Albinism--The Documentary

It is quite rare that I watch television. I watch the morning news every day and find myself watching The Unit on Sundays. This weekend was an exception to the rule. Before heading to Zumba class on Saturday morning, I watched a documentary on Albinism.  The documentary highlighted the torment and bullying that happens to children who are Albino in the United States. One girl had done an extreme make-over to “fit in.” She had her hair, eyebrows, and eye lashes dyed. She at least had the resources to do that.

The most shocking thing that I learned from this documentary was that in Tanzania, there are groups of people who are “hunting” Albino people. Their limbs and hair are cut off to be used in a witch doctor’s potions. It is believed that the parts haves special healing and longevity powers. The woman featured in this part of the documentary had a child of her own. Her arms had been cut off at the elbows. Prosthetics had been given to her, but they hurt her too bad for her to wear them. She couldn’t clothe, bathe, or feed herself, let alone care for her child. She was brought to the United States to have prosthesis made especially for her. She learned how to put them on herself and how to use the two hooks that she would use as her hands.

There was a journalist who went in undercover and told the story about a woman who had four children. The woman was threatened by a group of hunters. They demanded the albino 7- month old. They told her if she screamed, they would kill her other three children too. Could you imagine being in this situation? Her baby was killed and her other three children survived.

There are schools and safe places for the albino children to stay. These places are in desperate need of resources of things that I take for granted like hats to protect them from the sun.

Aren’t we especially lucky?

Fund-Raising

Let me preface this post with the fact that every single person that I come in contact with becomes an opportunity to blog. Eventually the interactions sink in and I begin to process what was actually communicated. I was struck by a conversation that I had with someone recently. It was more of a short dialogue in passing. It has stuck with me longer than conversations of that nature typically do. The conversation began with the generic opening greetings. The other person in the conversation asked me if the company I work for would be taking residents to a specific performance. I let them know that, indeed, we would be taking residents to the program on the “Senior Day.” The other person replied, “its so interesting that the people who have money attend the program that is free.” I didn’t have a reply to that at that moment. My ‘keep the peace’ frame of mind was engaged. It later occurred to me that perhaps our residents could afford to give back in other ways because they took advantage of what they qualified for now, being “seniors” and all.

Later that same day another person spoke about one of our residents and how wonderful the resident is. I concurred that this resident had done a lot for the Spokane Community. I didn’t appreciate the way that this person came a crossed when discussing the resident with me. The value of the resident seemed to be only recognized by the amount of money that had been donated to various organizations throughout Spokane.

Are we all just a dollar sign? Does the person who volunteered for hours to provide companionship to the lonely have any less value than those who donate tons of fiscal resources to change the way visions evolve?

These conversations served as great reminders to value everyone, not only for their resources but for their being.  We all have something very special and significant to offer the world.

Nicknames & Help

I've had quite a few nicknames in my 34 years of life. I'm sure that I can't recall them all. It seems that friends/family who spend the most time with me or did at one point in my life have come up with quite a selection of endearing terms for me. See below for a less than extensive list:

Mon
Mo
Moniqua
Monny
Mo Mo
Mo-Nanna
Red arm
Bunny head
Malibu Barbie
Buttercup
Princess
Mon Mon the Bon Bon

One of the most challenging things for me to do is ask for help. I say this because it relates to the fact that readers of this blog have said to me that they've posted comments and I'm unable to see them. Does anyone else see comments? If so, don't tell me here. Tell me on Facebook. :) And if you have any problem-solving strategies for me to employ, by all means I welcome your assistance. Your feedback is extremely important to me.

Social Media Overload

I'm fascinated by the Social Media world.

I know that it is evolving and the speed in which it develops is beyond my comprehension. I've attended three social media workshops in the past four weeks.

One was presented by a couple of local businessmen who own their own companies and are paid to advise clients on how to use social media as a part of their online marketing strategy. It focused primarily on how to enhance Search Engine Optimization.

The second presentation that I heard was an overview of social media and how Volunteer Coordinators can use it to recruit, connect, retain, and recognize volunteers. I'll confess that I'm already using our company Facebook page to accomplish these objectives.

The most recent seminar that I attended was six hours of social media platforms, strategy, content, evaluations and controls. One of my co-workers said to me, "This could be a full-time job!" Indeed, it could. And now we have one more team member who has joined the social media parade.

It's time to develop policies and make a case for improved SEO. What I find particularly interesting is that some people aren't aware that I am an administrator on two different Facebook accounts. I'm also managing my own Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Blogger, and Google+ accounts. Is it time to stop the insanity yet? The challenge, should I choose to accept it, is in regards to content~Keep it fresh over a span of five social networks where friends, followers, connections, and circles collide.

Opportunity

A friend told me that I should appreciate the fact that my day-to-day work is generally not stressful. If and when I feel that there is unexpended energy, take the energy and direct it elsewhere.

An acquaintance of mine works full time and teaches Zumba 5-7 times a week. Now I'm wondering if that's where my extra energy should be directed. I'm going to my first Master's Class this weekend. I've been to a few fundraising events and have taken Zumba off and on since it was introduced in Spokane back in 2009. I've taken enough classes to know what characteristics I appreciate in an instructor. (ie Remind me to really "crunch" when I do chest pumps, remind me to stick my rear out when I do squats and to get low when I'm not AND keep it FUN!)

I'm anxious to be able to wear the Zumba wear. I want to be "hip" like to the cool kids. Zumba wear is finally available in XL and XXL, but I'm embarrassed to buy it knowing that I want to lose a good 50+ lbs so that I actually feel good wearing those clothes and wardrobe malfunctions become a distant memory. Besides, I couldn't possibly be an instructor at this size.

I've been a "dancer" for 25+ years...My dance experience ranges from Ballet, Tap, Jazz, Hip Hop, Funk, Clogging, Square Dancing, Foxtrot, Waltz, Jive, Salsa, Bolero, Cha-Cha, Rumba, West Coast Swing, and Tango. It's no wonder that Zumba hits a "cord" with me. :) I find myself in the car listening to music that I know Zumba routines to. And trust me, pumping your chest doesn't come easy in the car and at my size, pumping in the car leads to a whole lot of stares from surrounding drivers.

Plan:
1. Attend as many Zumba classes/functions that I can within the next three months to help me learn the routines and lose the weight.
2. Explore training classes and scholarship opportunities
3. Start a small group class of friends who enjoy Zumba as much as I do and who would support me in this new endeavor.

Tardiness

When I was in school I didn't have an option of being late. Well I did, but I also knew that negative consequences were attached to being late to class. I knew that at the very least everyone would be watching who was running through the door, I'd miss some super valuable piece of lecture or I'd have less time to complete a "pop" quiz.

It's funny that we get older and have more resources to get around faster and yet we still struggle to be on-time. In fact, for my generation, few arrive early to a function. It's almost the expectation. Formal affairs have adopted a cordial hour strategy to allow people to enter the event late without consequence.

Maybe if I had children I would be able to empathize a little bit more. Or I could use the excuse. I do understand some things are out of our control. And instead of planning better we accept the new practice as a standard operating procedure. Why do we do this? Why do we allow it of one another?

Running

If I had tennis shoes on right now I'd be running around Lincoln Heights Shopping Center.

I want to be heard. I want you to be as curious about me as I am about you. I want to tell you about my thoughts, fears, revelations, conversations, and more. I want to tell you that my body hurts from doing two hours of cardio (zumba) and I want you to say "great job!" l want you to tell me that I'm beautiful and that you wouldn't want me any other way.

I want to tell you that I spoke with Yong today. He advised me, much as family and friends do, on how I should increase my cash flow. Our conversation ended with an agreement that I wouldn't call him anymore because his girlfriend would arrive from China on February 21. I was hoping to visit with him on my trip to Seattle. Doesn't look like that is going to happen.

I want to be recognized for my hard work, talent, empathetic personality and passion to learn and grow. I want help from you to grow and be a better person and to be content.

I know. It's all my responsibility.