Throughout all of my job experience I have been taught to invest in individuals. Whether I am teaching or nannying, tutoring or coaching, my job is to be dedicated to a single child's success.
I was blessed to work with some amazing families over the years, families with unlimited resources and proactive, protective parents. They teach their children to follow their dreams, tell them they are special, give them everything they need to be successful and far, far more. Watching these children blossom has been a joy.
As a teacher, I am invested in the thirty individuals of my classroom. I watch our schools spend thousands and thousands of dollars on one student's developmental delay. Spending hours and hours and hours on one student's speech impediment. Everyone is dedicated to helping a child grow and progress to their fullest potential. In our country, every single child has the right to a free and public education. Our children actually have rights, our schools must accommodate them. I got to spend time with some special faces at New Times School. I spent days singing and calling and drawings their names. And they are individuals. Peter and Jethro and Annah and Blessing and Monica and Benja and Isaiah and Benson and Judith and Betsey. They were smart. They were polite. They were hard-working. They were ambitious. They were eager to learn. They were thankful. They are as valuable as your own children. And just as smart with just as much potential. They have the same tiny toes, the same sticky hands, the same big brown eyes, the same vulnerable little hearts craving a trusted adult's attention.
Some people look at the orphan crisis like a text book or an excel spreadsheet or a heated debate. They see the large numbers and the roadblocks and they think this problem is too big to solve. And they forget that marginalized groups of people consist of individuals. Faces. Names. Favorite colors.
They are not statistics. This child is not from another
world. Poverty is not acceptable for this child. She is not just one of 137
million. She is not nameless. She is Ruth.
We are fellow human beings, living on this one planet we own together. All of our lives are equally as valuable and equally as delicate. We feel this when a natural disaster attacks across borders. We feel this when a health epidemic sweeps across nations. We feel this when we study the moon and the stars. We feel this when we celebrate holidays or attend mass on Sundays. Not one of us is more important than the other.
So what length are we willing to go in order to save the lives of individual children?
Malala Yousafzai. Hellen Keller. Anne Frank. Ruby Bridges. Mattie Stepanek.
The strangest things happened to me when I met a Ugandan woman for the first time. I blushed and I fumbled my words and spilled my tea and did not know how to sit correctly or control my stares out of respect because I was SO in awe of their beauty. They rendered me speechless and I had butterflies. Often I sat with them in silence, feeling an entire conversation occurring between us by their presence alone. They were wrapped in bright fabrics and had the most depth I've ever witness in a pair of eyes. They were captivating and I yearned to discover what was hiding behind them. I felt like a young child, not like a woman. I knew I had so, so much to learn from them.
In Uganda, mothers are angels. There is simply not another word for it. They are true angels. They raise babies, who were once promised so much by their fathers, alone. They care for their nieces and nephews when family members pass away. They take in neighbors' children. They welcome orphans. They skip meals so the children can eat. They work in the fields all day while breastfeeding simultaneously. They sew wallets and weave baskets trying to raise money for one of their children to go to school. They give and give and give and love all day long and sleep at night exhausted, curled up on one mattress with all of their tiny bodies. What mother doesn't do the same thing at night? Lying their heads down at night in Austin or Paris or Shanghai or Boise or Kiev? All of us wishing on our children's futures.
These women dance. They laugh. They sing and gossip and holler and tell stories and hug one another and tickle children and wipe the noses of little ones and scream when they see a spider. They dine with friends and host visitors in their homes and confide in best friends and peel potatoes. They wear beautiful colors, they tell jokes, they dream about the future, and reminisce on old memories. They have a fiery and jovial spirit that was created to rejoice even in the hardest of seasons.
They are who I aspire to be. They are my role models. My celebrities. The highest of the high in my eyes. I wish to have just a piece of their wisdom. To see and understand the world through their eyes and their hearts for just a moment. Women who grabbed my hands to hold them before they knew my name. Women who ran their fingers through my hair and sang songs to me and giggled at the goofy way I did things. The kindest, the most gentle women with the softest touch who have an inside which roars louder than a lion.
When I was 10 years old my family got the surprise of a lifetime. We were having a baby.
From the moment Taylor was born I dragged her everywhere I went. She was my baby. I named her after all (the Hanson boy) and she was my best doll. I taught her how to crawl by dropping lines of Goldfish along hotel carpet (gross). I finally potty-trained her by rewarding her with Hersey kisses and Sweet Tarts and Popsicles (you can still convince her to do a lot of things for food). I rocked her to sleep and smelled the top of her head and danced to Wiggles songs like an idiot and protected her Pink Baby. I loved her so much. I scooped her poop out of the bath tub.
As she got older I found out having a little sister was awesome (and annoying). Because she thought every little thing her older sister did was the coolest thing in the whole world. She watched my every move and followed me everywhere. She howled outside my locked bedroom door. She stole my Bath & Body Works fizzes and my Mary-Kate & Ahsley VHS tapes and my butterfly clips and my Jelly Roll pens and my friends. She held her fork with a fist and crossed her legs and talked back with attitude, like I did. I had a mini-me. I didn't realize how special and influential that relationship was until I was older.
Taylor started high school this year and a LOT of things have become really exciting for a big sister. She's going to my high school. She'll join the same clubs and attend the same retreats and learn the same values her sister did. She'll have teachers that remember me. She'll write papers that I wrote. I get to watch her buy homecoming dresses and eat Bosco sticks and get JUG for not wearing socks and trip on her way up the down staircase. She'll oogle over boys at football games and gossip about her first crush and have her first kiss in the stairway up to the 4th floor gym. AH! She's all grown up. And she is a world-class lady.
A stolen skirt from MY closet.
In two years Taylor is going to do something with me that will change her entire life. She's going to get on that plane. Am I ready for her to do this? Do I want to change her world? Is she old enough?
YES.
I can pinpoint the exact moment in my life when I became "grown." When I became an adult. When the weight of the world was placed on my shoulders. I was 17 years old and I was driving in the back seat of a van around the curvy hillside of Kishanje. I was wearing an Ignatius sweatshirt and listening to a 1st generation iPod.
This is the exact moment that everything I ever knew--about the world and what's important in life and what my responsibilities as a human being are-- changed. This boy ran alongside our van for almost an hour in the hope that our van would stop. He locked eyes with me the entire time. And then he couldn't run any longer. He turned around defeated and started the journey back home.
Soon a moment like this will happen for Taylor. I will be there with her but the journey that happens in her heart will be her own.
You can study other countries. You can talk about issues in the world. You can stare at photographs and watch documentaries. You can raise money and sponsor a child abroad. You can develop opinions on politics and religion and foreign aid. You can (and should) let your voice be heard.
But. You will never understand, never feel that weight--that weight that will flip your entire world upside down--until you go there and you see it. and you live it. and you love it. and you wrap your arms around it.
I know that my sister is going to embrace Uganda. Her arms might even spread wider than my own.
50 would be female 50 would be male 20 would be children 80 would be adults 14 of whom would be 65 and older There would be: 61 Asians 12 Europeans 13 Africans 14 people from the Western Hemisphere There would be: 31 Christians 21 Muslims 14 Hindus 6 Buddhists 12 people who practice other religions 16 people who would not be aligned with a religion 17 would speak a Chinese dialect 8 would speak Hindustani 8 would speak English 7 would speak Spanish 4 would speak Arabic 4 would speak Russian 52 would speak other languages 1 would die of starvation 17 would be undernourished 15 would be overweight 83 would have access to safe drinking water 17 would not 82 would be able to read and write 18 would not 1 would have a college education 1 would own a computer News Flash Americans... we aren't the majority of the world. Those of us with a college education and a computer....only 2 get to make it on the boat. The reality is that 82 people would be literate and only 1 would be chosen to pursue quality education. I found these numbers on a StumbleUpon search while riding the train to work today. This isn't necessarily a reliable data spread and I wouldn't bet money on these numbers. BUT entertain the idea. Only 14% of the world's population is from the Western Hemisphere and I bet more than half of those people live in South America. The way America does things is not how the rest of the world does them. I just realized how very, very small we are. And for those of you who went to college...how very, very lucky.
I was sick this weekend. So disgustingly sick. I blame chicken. Those filthy dirty birds with skinny scaly feet. Ya, I said it. I hate chicken.
I spent two nights on the bathroom floor hugging the porcelain throne. My wonderful Mother dropped everything she was doing and raced to Target to buy all of their anti-neausea medications. Upon dropping them at my back door she wisely declared, "It smells in here. I am leaving."
So it was bad. After being confined to my closet-sized bathroom for the weekend, I took an adventure to my sofa with a bucket and watched 4 consecutive seasons of SVU followed by 3 of Glee which was followed by all of Orange is the New Black and then ended with Grease, Hairspray, The Sandlot and finally Pocahontas. It was a colorful weekend. And I am proud to say I am back in the office this morning laughing like a mad woman because I feel so healthy.
At one point, around 5 a.m. Friday morning, I stood up and looked in the mirror. Half of my face was checkered by the grooves of my bathroom floor tile. I looked in the mirror and I thought, how do people do this in Uganda? I was surrounded by modern plumbing, air-conditioning, down comforters, a pharmacy of drugs, Gatorade, Jello & Netflix. And still I was miserable. How do they do it? Returning to my tiled floor I imagined it was the red dirt of a Ugandan hut. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. All of the sudden I imagined what it really felt like to be so terribly ill and not have access to anything that could take the pain away. I started crying which led to convulsing which led to heaving which led to more crying and then convulsing and then you get the idea.
I've written before about how extremely grateful Americans should be for their access to healthcare. This experience really shocked the core of me (and not in the obvious way my core was shocked this weekend). What if I lived somewhere else in the world.What if. What if. What if. I feel healthy today but I do not feel better.
And I am slapping myself for not going to medical school.
These are basically the two funniest women alive. I've never not laughed at them. Laughed at their jokes I mean. SNL wouldn't be the same without this duo. If you haven't watched Baby Mama yet, do so tonight. It lives in my DVD player on a permanent basis. They are not only exceptionally wacky and beautiful, they are also mothers. And they spend their fame in the right places. I am not one to float around in the world of celebrity
fandom, but they have currency in this world. And for a women who makes her living being exceptionally inappropriate,
vulgar and absurd....she sure has people listening closely when she gets
serious for a minute.
Here's Amy Poehler's speech at the Worldwide Orphan conference (go ahead and start at 3:00)
"Close your eyes and think about your children..." she says. "Now open them. There are children in the world tonight who have nothing... no one who's face lights up when they walk into a room." "So who are we to be in this room and living this life without helping them? That's it, that's the simple truth." "Every child should believe they are the center of the universe. If your child believes that right now, you are doing a good job. We should teach children all over the world that they're beautiful and loved and deserve the simple basic things in life."
Here's another video from WWO:
"I continue to be optimistic and hopeful. Because you can do nothing except be positive when it comes to children." "It's about making them believe that they are unique. That they each have the ability to do great things in the world." Having celebrities give orphans a loud voice, a roaring voice, has me feeling bright this morning. Hopefully, we can see as good of a return on sales as AriZone Iced Tea recently has. Miley Cyrus' pose with their 99 cent can was an advertising gift from the gods. I hear they can't mix that tea fast enough. Be an advertisement for what you care about.
"If you take one thing away from this event, please remember: giving to charity is good for your skin and it makes your ass smaller."
Today is Uganda's birthday. And it deserves a party. To honor the country I love, today we will bleed Ugandan pride. We can do this by learning more about the country while it blows out its 51 candles. Mom, you're older than a country. She's gonna kill me. For those of you who need to buy a map, Uganda is located here in the world.
So let's get started.
The flag was born when the country was, on October 9th, 1962. When it finally shed its ties from the UK. Black for the people. Yellow for the sun. Red stands for brotherhood. The bird you mistook for the roadrunner is actually the National symbol, a crested crane. Which is also the name of the Women's National Football Team whom we met last year in Rubanda.
Uganda is overflowing with natural resources and valuable exports. Coffee, tea and fish make up $674.9 million of their annual exports alone.The tea is outstanding. I miss waking up to a cup of steaming African tea with goat milk. HEY. I saw you furrow your brow when I said goat milk. Yeah, you. Don't knock it 'til you try it.
Uganda is blessed with fertile soils, regular rainfall, and sizable mineral deposits of copper and cobalt. They also have largely untapped reserves of both crude oil and natural gas. Oil was found in the Lake Albert area totaling an estimated 95,000,000 m3 barrels of crude. Talk about potential.
Each patch is someone else's garden. Man-made streams run through as watering systems. If you think farming is tough work, try doing it on a steep mountain side. Or being the guy who owns the farm all the way at the bottom.
Uganda's economy has continued to grow rapidly since the decade of wars have ceased. Investment in infrastructure, production, exports, reduced inflation, and improved domestic security has helped Uganda grow. In 2006 Uganda paid back in full their debt relief initiatives worth $146.3 billion.
Uganda Telecom is the nation's technology and communication network that serves 10 million subscribers. That's right. Texting and Facebook and Twitter and Wikipedia.
Buying a phone card (taken from Google search)
Uganda has four large railway lines, a comprehensive city bus service, taxi services, and four airports. The largest Airport is in Entebbe (en-teb-bay) where I land.
Entebbe Airport (Google image search)
The literacy rate in Uganda stands at 74.6%. With 37.7% of the population living on less than $1.25 a day, this is amazing! Children here read good. (If you didn't catch that, your bad).
Uganda is among the rarest HIV success stories! Read that again! Uganda is among the rarest HIV success stories! In the 1980s more than 30% had HIV, this fell to 6.4% by 2008. Uganda had the most effective national response to AIDS of any African country.
Uganda has a population of 35 million. 49% of the population is under 14 years old and only 4.4% is over 54 years old. The Bakiga (ba-chee-ga) people, my friends in Kishanje, make up 6.9% of the population.
The national language is English, making it easy for me to travel there :) The most widely spoken local language is Luganda. Multiple other languages can be spoken throughout including Swahili, even Indian and Arab languages. In Kishanje, the people I visit speak Rukiga (Ru-chee-ga). Try some of these tongue twisters.
Agandi Hello, how are you.
Nigye (nee-jay) I am fine.
Nebanyeta Tiffanie I am called Tiffanie.
Ninduga America I am from America.
Nibakwetoha? What is your name?
Webare Thank you
Shaka Shaka Smile!
Kare kare Bye bye
Oreiregye Good morning
Osibiregye Good afternoon
84% of the population are Christians. The most common churches are Catholic and Anglican, with a growing rise in Evangelical, Pentecostal and Presbyterian Churches.
JAM's church in Kishanje
Kampala, the capital and largest city, has a population of 1,659,600. It is home to Uganda's largest university, Makerere (the R's here pronounced lazily almost like L's) University. There are many upscale hotels throughout the city as well as hospitals, malls, and restaurants. Traffic in the city is outrageous. Worse than driving LA's seven lane expressway at 5:00pm on the Friday Labor Day weekend begins. Ugandans can fit 20 to a car, a car that never slows down for pedestrians. Cows in the road with vehicles is normal. No speed limits? Normal too.
Downtown Kampala (Google image search)
Tourist attractions are plenty. The largest national park in Uganda is Murchison Falls National Park. Here the Nile Rive plunges over a 40 meter drop. That's gotta be one of the most exciting white-water rafting opportunities in the world.
Nile River at Murchison Falls (Google image search)
Queen Elizabeth National Park is where I did my two safaris and is one of the most well-known parks.
Bwindi Impenetrable Forest is a sanctuary for the world famous mountain gorillas. Walk amongst them in their natural habitat. Stare in awe at their opposable thumbs.
Taken from Park's website
Football (our soccer) is the national sport. But Ugandans are also skilled nationally in cricket, rally racing, hockey, and baseball.
National Cricket Team (Google image search)
Food. Mmmmmm. There are many meals served throughout the city and in upper-class restaurants. They have English, Arab, Asian and especially Indian influences. The most common meal throughout the country is the main dish of Matoke (Ma-toe-kay) with stew, beans, rice and goat. Matoke is a green banana that is boiled and mashed. Irish potatoes especially, and yams and cassava are also common. Chapati (cha-pa-tee) is my favorite. It is an Asian flatbread commonly eaten with beef, strew and rice.
Matoke cooked with yam and potato (Google)
Matoke banana uncooked (taken from Google image search)
Chapati mmmmmmmm (Google image search)
Music in Uganda is very diverse as well. Musical influences pour in from all over the world. Michael Jackson is alive in Uganda. So is Tupac. There are other global pop artists singing from radios in the city. Like Britney Spears. "Heeeeet meee babayyyy one more tiiiimmme." It's great.
There is also traditional song and dance. Which is so much more awesome. Learning Rukiga dance was the greatest workout of my life.
Okay. Wow, that was a lot of information. I hope your brains are exploding because that would be a good thing. For however absurdly large our access to information is, Americans are completely ignorant to a lot of global cultures. Uganda's is spectacular. If you are enticed, I'd love for you to get on that plane with me! We can bungy jump over the Nile. And dance with lots and lots and lots of children.
Think about it before you book that spring break in Cancun. You know what I mean... that trip you've already done ten times that always leads to bad decisions? Let me plan your next vacation.
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