Too Damn Nosy....

"Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people." 

Eleanor Roosevelt

One of my favorite pastimes since moving to this country is to read the crime section in the Arabian Times or the Kuwait Times (two English language papers in the area). The blotter is written like an American celebrity magazine with the strangely weird, the minor celebrity plug, or the disturbing images of crime that happens to maids and hired help. When I run across an interesting story that catches my eye, I have to find someone to tell. I don't know why! Maybe it is human nature.

The same can be said about interesting news that happens to ex-pats in this area. The circle of teachers and contractors is tiny. Spend an evening at a major event and you will probably run into some teacher who hooked up with some contractor, who may be dating that person's ex who works at another school. And you can try to be above it all and ignore the information, but you can't help but listen. Being honest, I do take a moment and think, "who can I tell about this?" Most times I ignore it, but honestly, the longer I stay here, the more nosy I have become.

I used to not be this way.

My co-workers in the past would mostly say that I tried my best to not be in the mix of information. It didn't win me a lot of friends, but it shored up a reputation that I could be trusted, and that I wasn't a gossip. It made for many lonely lunches at times, but I was simply happy to not be in the middle of all the drama. My focus was always on my clients, my students, my family. If I told anything it was to my best friends who live in Central Indiana and Texas. Sometimes it was a great relief to spill stuff about the crazy adults I worked with, knowing that those two trusted people did not know who I was talking about. I talked to my mom a lot, because she always managed to bring insight and honesty when I just needed to talk. Although they are only a phone call away, its not the same. You have to factor in work schedules and time differences, life differences.

Its different here because the people you work with, you also live with, ride with, and hangout with on the weekends. Its not the same because at times you just want to talk to somebody about the crazy of the day who knows exactly what you are going through. You develop quick bonds because you may have been on the same plane together, you work on the same floor, or you are neighbors. The lines get blurry almost too quickly. Conversations begin to merge dangerously between the facts and the opinions.  It's a scary place to be; especially when you used to be a person who could physically separate out work relationships with personal relationships.

Today was my day that I fully became a gossip.

It happened innocently enough. We were talking about some directive that came in the wake of a little scandal. I mentioned that it had been a crazy week, and because I assumed that every knew because I was normally late to the gossip dance, I spilled the beans on someone else's issue. Then I allowed speculation to happen to go along with it. When I got off the bus, and reached my apartment, I realized that in less than 2 minutes I became a 14 year old teenager again.

That scared the crap out of me. It really did.....

Because at the end of the day, you don't want to be known as a person who is a gossip. The ex-pat world is too small to be seen as that kind of person.  The struggle, however, is how to separate yourself from it when its hard to keep personal away from professional. No amount of training can prepare you for that. I constantly have to tell myself something that my mother has always told me: "Remember who you are and whose you are."

I can't reverse my mistake. Some may even say that its not that big of a deal. But whenever I start to feel pieces of my spirit and character begin to be chipped away, it is a big freakin' deal. I want to be known as a great mind, a great person, and a woman of good character. I know now that this will be a big issue for me to overcome. But all I can do is accept my faults, move forward, and keep my damn mouth shut.

Thanksgiving Blues.... and Happiness

"If a fellow isn't thankful for what he's got, he isn't likely to be thankful for 

what he's going to get." 

Frank A. Clark

I admit that this week I have not been in the best of moods. I was also full of gas, so I do wonder if the two go hand in hand. I thought it was PMS, but that wasn't true. I thought that it was all the rain we had this week, which might have been a partial reason, but not the full reason. Then I realized....it's the holiday season. 

For me, good, bad, or indifferent, holiday's equal family. I was talking with a friend of mine today, and realized that in my 34 years, I have always managed to spend Thanksgiving with family. That is a long track record, even for adults. There are traditions tied to this day for me; there are smells, sounds, and sweaters that made me happy. Even when I'm ready to choke my parents for running late, or sitting in traffic on the way to Wisconsin laughing with my brother,Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. 

My Thanksgiving last year, I knew that I was going to go overseas. A couple of months prior, I went to see The Help with my mom, and at the end of the movie, watching Viola Davis walk away from her career and begin to live her life fully, I felt what her character was feeling: a sense of uncertainty about a new path, but understanding that it was her time to move on. Despite all the drama and the stress of my last job, I loved it. I also knew that I could have stayed there forever. But I did feel that it was just my time to go. And when you love what you do to let it go for an unknown future, all you can say to God is please help me understand and trust.

That year I went to Wisconsin with my mom and dad. My dad was a classic backseat driver, my mom was nervous about traffic, and I wanted to scream because we were leaving an hour later than what I wanted to. When we finally did get on the road, everyone relaxed a little bit, I put on music that managed to make my parent's happy, and we made it to dinner about 2 hours late. However, the ride back was my best memory. My dad sat up front with me, and we ended up taking Highway 41 back to Indiana due to a traffic accident coming back into the Chicago area. Figuring out where to go without the aid of a GPS or Onstar, we were in our element. Although it was a drive about an hour longer than what it needed to be, the time spent laughing and talking with my dad and my mom dozing in the back, made me happy. Being able to drive my parent's around was refreshing.

For me that is what holidays are all about. I could dwell in the things that frustrate me so about going to relative houses, or the traffic, or any number of things that manage to piss me off a little bit about the holiday season. But the memories I cherish our those simple moments that just bring a smile to my face. I am thankful for that, because it is those memories that sustain me during times when I'm feeling a little blue and homesick. Those are also the times that help me appreciate even more the opportunities that have come into my life in this present, and what is going to happen in my future. 

As I am writing this, my mom is probably baking zucchini bread or some dessert. The turkey my dad always slow roasts on the grill has been on there since they went to church this morning. My brother DJ and his family are probably going to Lena's parent's first and then manage to do a lot of drive-by's. Tanisha and the kids are getting ready to go spend this holiday with my maternal side of the family. I'm missing out on family friendly jokes, video games, and food, food, food. But I am thankful for those memories. I am thankful for their prayers and encouragement.  But I am also so thankful for where my life is, where it is going, and the adventure and blessings that await. Being thankful for everything is what this life is all about. I am truly grateful and thankful. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.   

The Skin I'm In

"What spirit is so empty and blind, that it cannot recognize the fact that the foot is more noble than the shoe, and skin more beautiful than the garment with which it is clothed?"

Michelangelo

So I must admit that I enjoy my job. I get to meet interesting students, network with colleges, work with a staff that can go from Arabic to English in a millisecond.... For a girl who has loved being in diverse places all of her life, this job is a little bit of living out a dream.

On the other hand, the reality that plaques even the most privileged and comes up so often is the issue of race and shade. I was talking with a student today who comes from privilege but feels that she isn't pretty because of she does not look like her family. If they were in the US, her parents would probably be mistaken as Hispanic or mixed heritage, while she appears white. On the ever important college applications, students are confused about what to mark as their race. Are they white? Are they Asian? Are they more than just an Other? What to mark?

I was very naive to think and believe that in a country where all different shades exist, that the hangups of race  would not be an issue. It's not really race as much as it's shade of skin.

I think back into the history of countries like the USA, like South Africa, that the shade of skin determined your place in life. The lighter the skin, the better off you would be to society; but among your race, depending on the time in history, the lighter the skin the less black you were. Heaven forbid if you used complete sentences or did not dress a certain way. I know that a significant part of my life among classmates, and even among some family, white girl was the moniker given to me. But it took my parents, and my faith to help me become comfortable with who I was. Although my life and views are ever evolving, I have learned to embrace my skin tone, my shade.

I don't know what to say to students when this issue comes up. I am normally at a loss of words because I know how they feel about shade of skin. And the goal in conversations with students is to not sound like a greeting card or a commercial. I do ask them how does that make them feel, or how do they overcome. But I also share a piece of wisdom that I feel that has been shared with me. That is simply that yes people see the outside and make assumptions, positive and negative. But it takes a strength, patience, wisdom, and a little bit of time for people to see and understand the kind of person you are. That is the lasting impression that matters. Not exactly the skin that you are in.