Author: susan.lebold

I am leaving Tanzania this afternoon. On Saturday I depart from Kilimanjaro Airport on Qatar Airlines and fly first to Doha, Qatar, then to London, then to Shannon, Ireland, where I will meet up with family and begin my “real” vacation. After a few days in Ireland, we will fly to Romania for a week, staying with the relatives of my sister-in-law, who grew up there. I plan to continue experiencing my travels through the lens of the Kindness Continuum, and will periodically update my posts based on what we are doing and how I am perceiving the world at that moment in time.

But for now, as I prepare to leave, I want to acknowledge publicly in this blog the innumerable kindnesses shown to me by the people I have met here. I very much hope this will not be the last time I see them and I am already concocting schemes that will provide opportunities to return and perhaps bring some of my social work students with me. Please allow me to introduce some of my new friends to you:

Michael – one of the project coordinators and the first person I met after my arrival here. Michael picked me up at the airport and walked me through my first 36 hours in Tanzania. He was there to answer any question I had at any time throughout my stay, and even negotiated with the internet provider on a weekend when I was running out of gigs on my phone and desperately needed to replenish so that I could stay connected to the web. He makes sure that the volunteers never get lost or stranded, and never complains about the numerous demands on his time. I have learned the importance of patience from him, and how that can make such a difference for the people you are charged with helping.

Irene – the director of the Human Rights Project that I was part of for three weeks. Irene runs a very tight ship and expects a lot from the volunteers. We were busy all the time, and sometimes had to finish our work from home in the evenings. Irene has been doing this work for a number of years, and believes passionately in the importance of supporting the women and juveniles and educating them on their rights. Her passion is infectious, and when we volunteers became frustrated at the flaws and corruption in the systems that are supposed to be helping the people we are working with, she did us the kindness of giving us perspective. She carefully and passionately explained how we do make a difference for these children and women. She was able to provide important context that surrounds the small slice of life we see during our short volunteer visits. Her big picture perspective paints a more positive view of the systemic changes that are slowly taking place, and I appreciate Irene’s willingness to take the time to educate us. Another reminder that we need to be careful in the conclusions we draw from extremely limited information and experience.

Judith – Judith is a Tanzanian lawyer and was hired by Projects Abroad during the week I arrived. She has a human rights background and is helping the volunteers by providing translations during our presentations and interviews. She is a young mother with an adorable 9 month old son, and she and I worked very well together and became fast friends. She is a lot of fun, and is always willing to answer my questions about cultural practices or customs. I will miss her but we plan to stay in touch.

Elizabeth – Elizabeth was hired at the same time as Judith and is also a human rights lawyer. She is trying to start a nonprofit organization here in Tanzania that will provide support and assistance to the large population of refugees at the Nyalugusu refugee camp in the Kigoma region of the country. These refugee families, many of them women and children, are suffering and languishing while the politicians in the various countries involved try to decide what to do with them. It is not a good situation and Elizabeth is hoping that her NGO will be able to work with and support the refugees so that when they leave the camps they will have the skills, finances and ability to support themselves economically and emotionally. I’m hoping to find a way to help her achieve her dream, so I’m sure we will continue to stay in touch. Elizabeth kindly taught me the importance of remembering those who are forgotten by others, and not to abandon them. Elizabeth also served as host and tour guide on my last day here, taking me and 2 other volunteers all around the Arusha area to sights we had not seen yet. The day was topped off by a visit to her home, where she served us Konyagi and a wonderful meal, gave me some parting gifts, and introduced us to her parents. I will treasure the generous and welcoming nature of Elizabeth and her family.

Rachel – Rachel is one of the Projects Abroad staff who can do most anything people need her to do. For the human rights project she helped the volunteers with translations and other types of support. She is capable, ambitious, and enthusiastic, a good combination of attributes that will take her far in life. She is friendly to everyone she meets, and very willing to help anyone who needs anything. Every week she had a new hairstyle which was great fun. I have learned from Rachel how important enthusiasm and a good attitude can be, even when life gets complicated and stressful.

Liz – Liz is the director of the microfinance project, which makes micro loans to the women entrepreneurs. Since the human rights work overlaps with the microfinance work, our two projects work closely together when we go out to the neighborhoods and speak to the women. Liz tells me that they have been making loans for quite a few years now, and that every single woman who has had a loan has paid it back in full. She is very proud of that fact, and clearly cares a lot about each individual woman who is trying to improve the lives of herself and her family. She loves talking to the volunteers about these women and their businesses, and the work of the microfinance project. She taught me the importance of having faith in others, and that a little bit of support can go a very long way to helping someone reach their potential and beyond.

Christopher – Christopher is a fellow volunteer in the human rights project. He is from Melbourne, Austrailia and has the most wonderful Austrailian accent. He is studying law and human rights and social justice issues in different places around the world before he settles back in Melbourne. He is hoping to spend a year in the U.S. interning or working for a social justice type organization. He was thinking Chicago, but I’m trying to point him to Detroit as a great incubator for all the issues that plague vulnerable populations. He is a thoughtful, well read young man, idealistic but also very practical and down to earth. We have had many stimulating conversations about our impressions of Tanzania and world affairs. He has done me the kindness of reminding me that young people are indeed our future, and I know he will be successful in anything he decides to pursue.

Chihiro – From Japan, Chihiro was my housemate for most of my stay here and also was a fellow human rights project volunteer. She is a bright young student who grew up in several countries, including the United States. She majored in Farsi in college, and is studying political science from an international perspective, and will be attending graduate school in London in the fall. After leaving her experience in Tanzania, she is going to the opposite end of the economic spectrum and will be spending the next several weeks in Singapore at a financial institution. She is intensely curious about everything, loves people, and is mature beyond her young years. Her sense of humor and ability to laugh at herself made her a joy to be around. She took on the burden/responsibility of making sure that I never got lost when taking the dala dala, and several times gave up an evening out with the younger volunteers to make sure I got home ok. She taught me the importance of looking out for others and having their back.

The amazing women of Arusha – These women were an inspiration to know. They embrace all the volunteers who come their way, and never complain that the faces change every few weeks with new people always coming and going. They willingly and freely share their lives with us, opening their doors and welcoming us in. They speak out and are assertive and sometimes challenging with their questions and ideas. We had some very interesting conversations about parenting practices, corporal punishment, and the complexities of family life in this country. Their kindness in opening their minds and hearts to new ideas was a reminder that learning is always a two way street. They taught me the importance of keeping an open mind and listening closely even when discussing difficult topics.

Anna – whose name I learned only recently is actually Fey (short for Faith). Anna was the first person to welcome me at the house where I stayed, and she will be the last person I see before I leave this fascinating country. Anna is the housekeeper and cook for Mama Ngowi (who spent a big chunk of my visit away on business so I didn’t really have a chance to get to know her), but she has much bigger ambitions for herself. She is very bright, curious and thoughtful, and I have no doubt she will persevere in achieving her goal to go back to school and become a secretary or office assistant. Her English is actually much better than Mama’s, and she is interested in many things outside the gates of the compound where she must spend pretty much all her time. She works tirelessly, and never turns down a request for help. She always has a ready smile, and has a great sense of humor. She is grace personified, and I feel lucky to have shared many meals and conversations with her. She taught me the importance of patience and planning and keeping your dreams alive.

Thank you for indulging my observations and reflections throughout my time in Tanzania. Ireland and Romania, here I come!!

 

As I travel around Arusha, the city where I am based, and the surrounding region, I am bombarded by sounds and images. I am writing this blog in the Projects Abroad office on a Wednesday afternoon; the windows are open and outside I can hear children playing, roosters crowing, vehicles and motorcycles going down the road, horns honking, several radios blasting a combination of talk and music, and adults having conversations on the street below.

Inside the office building I can hear various conversations going on around me, mostly in Swahili with a little English thrown in from time to time. Sounds and people swirl around me constantly, part of the landscape everywhere I go, pretty much all day and all night. The night sounds are different, but just as constant. They include vehicles passing on the street nearby, dogs barking in the distance, roosters crowing, goats bleating, radios, and people talking. Sometimes machinery, depending on the time of day or night. The sounds come from near and far away, blending together in a cacophony of rhythms that is somehow soothing as I drift off to sleep, windows open so I don’t miss anything.

My observations of this fascinating country, which I am trying to soak up as best I can during my short visit, lead to many thoughts and questions. But I have to be very careful not to impose my first world Western values onto the environment I see and hear as I think about my experience. I was invited here to share my skill, interest, curiosity and expertise to assist my Tanzanian friends in the important work they are doing to improve the lives of their most vulnerable citizens. I am not here to impose judgment.

The problems facing Tanzania are complex and long standing, partially the result of exploitation by outsiders, partially the result of the developed world turning a blind eye to the needs of the people, and partially the result of internal corruption and despotic leadership that has prevented some of the advances and benefits that other countries enjoy. It is easy to get frustrated by the overwhelming deprivation and need I see all around me, but I don’t have the full historical context in which to interpret my experience. My new friends assure me that positive changes are indeed happening, such as in the juvenile court practices that I have found so infuriating for the boys we are trying to help. I’m just not here long enough to appreciate and witness the progress first hand.

But it is hard to understand how a country this beautiful, with such rich cultural traditions, and people who have the same lofty ambitions for themselves and their children as anyone anywhere else, can be left to suffer the hardships suffered by so many in third world countries.

It is an odd juxtaposition of circumstances, and it makes me sad to see evidence of the rampant corruption, or the absence of effective infrastructure for even basic services – reliable roads, clean streets, safe drinking water, electricity that doesn’t go on and off at odd hours for no apparent reason.  Repairs don’t happen, buildings get started but not finished, streetlights don’t work, and there doesn’t seem to be any accountability on the part of the those who should be providing these things.

I am spending my last week here giving presentations to the various women’s groups that Projects Abroad has been working with for a number of years now.  All of the groups are made up of women business owners who have accepted a microloan from Projects Abroad to get them started. The volunteers on the finance side work with them on managing and marketing their businesses, while the volunteers on the human rights side (that’s me) work to educate them on their legal rights.

The hope is that by educating and empowering these small groups of women, they will share their  knowledge with others in their community, thereby interrupting and changing some of the long standing and oppressive practices that women and children have had to live with for many, many years. Some of these practices are based in historical and cultural norms, others in religion, but the Constitution and laws of this country in recent years have made it clear that women and children have important legal rights that should no longer be ignored. And while the legal mechanisms exist to help women exercise and protect those rights, it is still all too common for families to follow the more traditional practices. In fact, many women are not well educated and still do not fully understand that they have power and that their rights are equal to a man’s when it comes to property, inheritance, custody, divorce, etc.

Given Tanzania’s long history of treating their women as second class citizens, or worse, the Projects Abroad volunteers work hard to help the women see themselves and other women as having rights worth standing up and fighting for. But the individual stories we hear as the women ask questions during our presentations make it clear that there is still a long way to go in many families.

This week the topic of the day I have prepared to present for each group is parental responsibility. Corporal punishment and worse are alive and well in this country. Tanzania has a population of almost 60 million, with over 30% of the people living in urban areas. Whereas the population density of the United States is 93 people per square mile, the population density of Tanzania is 173 per square mile, almost twice the density of the US.

The ramifications of high population density coupled with low per capita income are not hard to imagine. I see it everywhere I look as I go from place to place. Wealth is a relative term depending on where we come from, and it can be shocking to Westerners to see the level of poverty some people are living with. Yet the women I meet see themselves (and rightly so) as successful entrepreneurs who own their own property, can afford to buy the essentials for their families, and pay for their children’s schooling. These are not small things, but an outsider looking in might only see the shabbiness of the one or two room living quarters (that may or may not have windows), the broken down furniture, the dirty walls, and threadbare clothing. What I am learning to see and appreciate when I am invited into their homes is the pride with which they share their stories of struggle and success, their community spirit as they support each other, and their care and concern for their neighbors, friends and relatives. They take the information we provide and share it with other women in their communities who don’t have the same understanding about their legal rights, responsibilities and options.

My presentations this week about parent responsibilities has been somewhat revealing regarding historically accepted discipline practices and how they are changing (or not). This is an important topic because child rearing practices in this country have been known to be quite brutal at times. Corporal punishment is alive and well (and legal – in fact, judges can order flogging of a juvenile as a punishment for a crime), but many parents go way beyond that when disciplining their children. When talking about the difference between appropriate discipline and abuse, I asked the women for examples of abusive, harmful types of discipline and they came up with the following vivid examples: cutting the child with a razor blade, holding a child upside down over a pile of burning paper, tying the child’s hands together wrapped in paper, pouring kerosene on the paper and lighting it, tying them to a tree or other object, or depriving them of food and water. The different women’s groups are scattered across the Arusha region, and it was very telling that each group came up with very similar examples of these (dare I say barbaric?) practices.

While getting an education is considered a right of the child, there is no such thing as mandatory education. This means that if a child doesn’t want to go to school, there is no law that says they must. While legally the parent is responsible for the child until age 18, many parents believe that it is ok to kick the child out of the house by age 14. One woman asked me whether it was ok for a 4 year old to be left alone to watch a 1 year old, which opened a lively discussion about parental neglect and child development, and the moral responsibility to step in when a child of a friend or neighbor is being harmed.

Over the course of this week I have had some very interesting discussions with these women about what is acceptable discipline and what is not. Understanding that there are alternative ways to teach a child responsibility and what is right and wrong without always resorting to a beating doesn’t necessarily come easily to many of these women. The ideals of the law sometimes clash with the reality of culture and long-standing family practices. Yet the women have been attentive and very willing to share their experiences and ask questions. We have had many good discussions and I have a better appreciation for how complex their family lives are.

One thing I have been struck by is the silence of the children I see all around me, not only in the women’s groups but also out in public, on the dala dala, and everywhere. Babies rarely cry and toddlers rarely fuss. Small children sit with their mothers for long periods of time while we give our presentations, others get squashed into laps on the dala dala so that they can hardly move and they never make a peep. I don’t understand it, and can’t account for why these children behave so differently from the children I am used to seeing in other places, particularly the United States. Does the density and living in close quarters have anything to do with it? What about the discipline practices? Or is it simply a culturally different way of raising children that I know nothing about? Just one more thing to be curious about as I wind down my visit and prepare to depart in a couple of days.

 

This past weekend, I decompressed after a very full week by going shopping on Saturday and on Sunday hiking to a beautiful waterfall, followed by an educational tour of a coffee farm (for you coffee experts, I discovered the world’s best coffee, right here in Tanzania!). The week was very full of driving from place to place, meeting with women’s groups, talking to the business women, and interviewing the boys who are in detention. Through it all I was taking in all the sights and sounds and smells and colors and textures that make up our existence in this fascinating country. The environment here is such that I am always on sensory overload. Here are some random things I have observed or experienced in the past week:

• The scared face of Simon, the newest boy to be detained this week. He thinks he is 17 because that’s what his father told him, but no one is really sure and he has no idea when his birthday was. He looks to be about 14 or 15. He is from a Maasai village and has never attended school. In his community wealth is measure by how many cows and goats you own, and Simon told me he owns 6 goats. He got into trouble when he and two other boys were tending the herd of a farmer and the 2 friends got the idea to kill one of the goats. They did so, and roasted it, then all three got caught with the meat. Because Simon was caught carrying the skin of the goat he was deemed the primary thief even though he is adamant that he had no part in actually killing the goat. The other two boys were able to remedy their situation by paying the neighbor one goat each, but 2 goats were demanded of Simon because he was deemed more culpable. Simon refused to pay the neighbor. At that point the father turned him into the police, where he spent a week at the police jail before being sent to detention. This is a classic clash of cultures, communities and systems as Simon, who has spent his entire life in the bush tending cattle and goats, must now figure out how to navigate an environment totally alien to him. He says his father (who has 2 wives and 8 children) doesn’t know where he is. He said to me, as I was wrapping up the interview that he just wants to “go home and be forgiven.” All I can do for him is listen, care, and try to explain that he is going to have to be patient while the wheels of the court system grind ever so slowly.
• The dala dalas that I have talked about are everywhere all the time. Each one is uniquely decorated and painted in wild colors and symbols and messages and pictures. One might be covered in Christian imagery and messages while another is covered with Muslim or Jewish imagery. Others seem to have more random and totally secular images, such as advertisements or pictures of famous figures (sports or otherwise). There is often a mix of both English and Swahili on the signage, but the English is frequently a little “off” – my favorite so far is the dala dala that had “Holly Bibble” painted boldly in large bright letters across the side of the bus (sadly, I was not able to get a picture of it).
• The roads are something else, and everyday I feel like we are traversing in, around and over craters on the Mars rover as we drive around town and through the neighborhoods. The streets all look exactly the same to my unpracticed eye, and no streets have any names, nor are there any working street lights anywhere in the city. There is no mail delivery to anywhere except a post office because there aren’t really any clear addresses. The biggest roads are paved, but the side streets and driveways are all dirt. To understand what I’m talking about, try to imagine the worst possible pothole you have ever encountered, then turn that pothole into a rut that runs the length of the street and twists and turns like the rivulet it once was during the rainy season just past. Add similar ruts alongside the first one and then add some incline and decline in front and behind you as well as on either side of the road and you’ll begin to get an idea of what it is like to drive in and around Arusha. The streets are often very narrow, and lined by individual businesses and shops, bordered by deep drainage ditches for the rainy season. Yet the taxis we take to get to the neighborhoods where we do our work make their way slowly up and down these streets, kicking up big clouds of dust wherever they go, as do the private cars, big trucks, and motorbikes. I really have no idea how anyone can tell where they are if they are calling a taxi, or tell the taxi driver where they want to go. But we always seem to get to our destinations. Apparently not all taxi drivers are trustworthy, so Projects Abroad has an understanding with 3 very nice men who speak pretty good English and make themselves available to us whenever needed. This adds some security to the lives of the volunteers, who always have a safe way to get home after being out and about after dark.
• Corruption is rampant, and although the current President was elected on a platform based on stamping out the corruption, he has also been seen giving a public speech telling the police they aren’t charging enough for their traffic stops. We have seen these stops in action numerous times on the main roads. The police stand in the road and wave someone over. They then carefully inspect the vehicle and the occupants looking for minor violations, like not wearing a seatbelt or an expired insurance sticker, or something else. To avoid a formal ticket, which would be much more expensive, the driver must pay the police a bribe in order to continue on his way. Today we were stopped and as he slowed down Walter, our driver, quietly said to us “Put on your seatbelts!” and we all quickly buckled up. The police officer was determined to find something wrong, and finally settled on telling Walter that he had not come to a complete stop when he drove over the crosswalk. He got out, went behind the car with the officer for a few moments, then got back in and we drove on.
• There are many large, partially constructed buildings all over Arusha and the surrounding area. It’s as if the initial investors put in the money for a big hotel or office building or something, and then backed out of the deal halfway through the project. In many cases Tanzanians are working toward the day when they can own their own property and homes. They don’t wait until they can afford the finished product, however, but instead simply build as they can afford it. So in addition to the empty shells of big buildings, there are many many smaller ones dotting the countryside.
• I visited some homes that were built by the women business owners that we see each week. They are so proud of what they have accomplished – owning a business that is successful enough to allow them to buy land and build a home. A number of them have been able to expand and diversify their businesses so that when one season’s customers ebb and flow (people don’t buy as much water in the winter) they have another business to take its place (selling charcoal instead of water). Most of you reading this blog could never imagine yourselves living in such conditions as these women do, but who are we to judge them or their circumstances?

  

  I continue to be honored by these women who are so willing to invite us into their homes and share their achievements that they have worked incredibly hard for. We volunteers show up every week to review their legal rights with them on various topics so that they can stand up for themselves when they run into legal entanglements, which can happen around divorce, custody, inheritance, property rights, etc. Here is an example of a question that was asked during one of our presentations about divorce and custody rights: “How does the marital property get divided when the husband has multiple wives but is divorcing only one of them?” (it seems that polygamy is tolerated as a religious practice while not quite being acceptable under the regular government law.).

I am happy to be here with an organization like Projects Abroad, which is clearly trying to support and improve the lives of the women and boys we work with. But at the same time I and my fellow volunteers are intensely frustrated by the apparent lack of accountability of the systems that should be protecting the rights of the people, but are instead used for more nefarious purposes and the convenience and gain of the bureaucrats. The laws are there in black and white, but there is no ability to enforce them if magistrates or other “gatekeepers” choose to ignore them or worse, demand bribes for doing what they are supposed to be doing in the first place. As a result, children remain in detention, women don’t get to see their children, or she must pay big bucks to get a magistrate to grant her divorce. It is not at all unusual for volunteers to step in and help out financially on a case by case basis, to pay a child’s school fee, or pay for a witness to travel from out of town to court in Arusha to testify for one of our women, or to pay a court fee that someone can’t afford. But the reality is that these are all very small drops in a very big bucket, and it is rather overwhelming when we stop to think about how many other organizations besides Projects Abroad are also working in this country (and many others in Africa) trying to accomplish many of the same goals.

As I begin my final week here, my mind is spinning with thoughts and questions about how to help a country like Tanzania meet the basic infrastructure needs of its citizens and also provide the appropriate social safety nets for the poor and vulnerable. At the same time, how do we avoid imposing our Western, first world standards on a culture and people that deserve our unconditional respect and the preservation of their personal dignity? I am all too aware that I have no real knowledge or appreciation for the intense complexities that plague a country like this, but my short visit is filling me with intense curiosity and drive to learn more. My nagging impression is that the people I am meeting in the neighborhoods who are barely surviving don’t need to be suffering to the extent that they are.

After a whirlwind first week and orientation, I have begun to settle into a routine of sorts as it relates to the work I am doing here. As with my last post, I will report my experience of the last few days through the lens of the Kindness Continuum. Here are some notable kindnesses I have been the beneficiary of:

1. The other volunteers who have been here longer than I are very careful to make sure that I am included in activities and that I know how to get around. My housemate, Chihiro from Japan, has been particularly attentive. I had to laugh when she told me that prior to my arrival she was told by the host “Mama” that a “grandma” was coming. She then commented to me, “You don’t seem very grandma-like to me!” (I wasn’t quite sure what the appropriate  response should be…, so I just said “Good! Because I’m not a grandma!”) She knows I am nervous about riding the Dala Dala alone, not because I am afraid of the crowds or the people, but because I can’t see out the windows and never know where we are or when to get off. I’m getting better at it, but it’s nice that she’s willing to adjust her coming and going to meet my need rather than hers. She was also willing to walk with me at 5:45 am on last Saturday morning to make sure I got to the meeting spot where the safari driver was going to pick us up. I didn’t need her to do that, but she got up anyway to make sure I got out of the gate with no trouble and then called me to make sure I made the connection. So sweet! She is a mature young woman who is studying political science from a global perspective and so we have had some very interesting conversations about our Tanzanian experience and the world at large.
2. Last Friday we had a “Community Day” where all the volunteers from all the different projects came together and worked at the Massai school that Projects Abroad is building. It is a preschool and kindergarten seemingly out in the middle of nowhere that volunteers have been building from the ground up. And while I am quite aware of the cliché image of white people having their pictures taken with adorable African children, I can only say in my defense that these particular children were intensely curious, friendly, and yes, absolutely adorable (as any preschooler anywhere in the world is). Our job that day was to build the roadway and walking path that leads up to the school. I was told that many of the children who come to this school walk over two hours to get there and two hours to get home in the afternoon. It was clear that many volunteers have been to this school, as the children, who were shy at first, warmed up fairly quickly. By the time we left a few hours later, they were all over us, talking, demanding pictures and games, climbing into laps, etc. The kindness that these children showed to us was pretty neat.
3. The 2 day weekend safari I went on to Ngorongoro Crater and Lake Manyara National Park was unbelievably great. One of the reasons it was so great was that our driver was very careful to give all of us passengers plenty of time whenever we spotted some animals or a particularly beautiful vista. We would drive around, then all of a sudden he would stop because he or someone else saw something interesting. Then he would wait for as long as it took for all of us to be finished enjoying the view and taking pictures. He was very patient with us and that patience paid off big-time when we were treated to a pride of about 15 lions sunning themselves by the side of the road and wandering around between all the jeeps that had gathered to take a look. While we were enjoying the lions up close, they spotted a lone water buffalo who had wandered into their line of sight. While we watched, each of the 15 lions went on high alert, and one by one they trotted off to go after the water buffalo. When they got close they gave chase. Suddenly the entire herd of water buffalo came to the aid of the first one, and confronted the lions. At that point it was a face off, with the lions going after the only baby in the herd and the herd doing everything they could to protect the baby. It was quite exciting to watch, and happily for us, we got all the benefit of watching the hunt without the bloody result, as the baby did survive in the end and the lions came back to their napping spot. Even our driver enjoyed the spectacle, and told us that seeing the lions in action like that was quite rare.  The entire safari was wonderful, and it was pretty awesome to think that I was in the same vicinity as some of the great researchers of the 20th century – Jane Goodall, Richard and Louis Leakey, and others.
4. All the people on the safari became very friendly over the two days we spent together. Interesting conversation, interesting perspectives, and interesting stories about why each was in Tanzania – three of us were from Projects Abroad (Norway, Japan, USA), two from Holland working for another volunteer organization, and two others travelling on their own for vacation (Ireland and Georgia – the country, not the state).
5. Monday it was back to work. I spent the morning interviewing three of the teenagers we are responsible for monitoring while they wait for their cases to go to court. It seems that they have been thrown away and no one cares that they are simply languishing while the slow bureaucracy churns along. The Projects Abroad volunteers provide kindness and caring support to the boys, most of whom don’t get it from anywhere else. Conditions at the detention center are extremely harsh. Here is a brief synopsis of each of the three cases I interviewed:
   1. Sammi, 14, is charged with possession of marijuana. An older man from his neighborhood asked Sammi to escort him to somewhere and Sammi agreed. When the man was stopped the police found the drugs in the man’s bag. Sammi had no idea the man was carrying drugs but they both got charged. That was over 8 months ago and he’s still waiting for his first hearing.
   2. Ibrahim, 17, has been in detention for almost 2 years waiting for his case to be heard. He is charged with murder along with 7 other adults he doesn’t even know. He has no idea why he is being charged or even what the prosecutors are saying happened. When he was at the police station he was beaten so badly that 2 years later he still suffers severe pain in his upper back. He has received no medical treatment. We suspect that the prosecutor is waiting for him to turn 18 so that they can then charge him as an adult. It sounds like the police simply swept up some random people hoping to get a hit. Regardless, there is very little anyone can do to speed his case along, and in the meantime he has no advocate or anyone besides us to help him understand what is going on (or not). Murder carries a sentence of death if he is convicted.
   3. Awadhi, 16, is being held on armed robbery. This started out as a simple theft that Awadhi and his two friends committed against a drunk man. The boys then had a change of heart, gave back the stolen items, and turned themselves in to the police to make amends. The police asked for a bribe to dismiss the charges, and when the boys couldn’t pay he raised the charge from theft to robbery, a much more serious offense, and put them all into detention. Awadhi dropped out of school after 3rd grade and so couldn’t read any of the documents he had to sign. He has been in detention for almost a year with virtually no progress on his case.
6.  The Dala Dala experience continues to be a fascinating one. We volunteers stand out like sore thumbs whenever we get on or off. The Tanzanians are always accommodating our inability to communicate effectively, and tolerating our social awkwardness as we climb in and out of the bus and over and around the other riders. Every now and then someone will strike up a conversation, practicing their English, which is fun. Inevitably when that happens they ask where we are from and as soon as I say “the United States” the next question is always “What do you think about Trump?” and they stop being interested in the nationalities of the other volunteers who got on with me. I usually ask “what do you think about him?” before I try to answer in some noncommittal way, but I am who I am and make no excuses for his actions, letting them know I’m not happy with most of his decisions. Then we laugh and that’s usually the end of that conversation.
7. Today I was in charge of interviewing two women business owners and checking in with them to see how they are doing in their business, some details about their home and family life, and whether they have any problems or challenges that Projects Abroad might be able to help with. This turned out to be a real treat, as these women who have virtually nothing by most Western standards, opened their homes to me and invited me to meet and take pictures of their beautiful family. They were incredibly gracious to the volunteers and translators who visited them today, and are justifiably proud of all they have accomplished since starting their business with the seed money loan provided by Projects Abroad.
8. We also visited a Mandazi bakery that has grown quite large (relatively speaking) in 3 short years, again with seed money originally from Projects Abroad. It turned out that Helena, the business owner, had just lost her husband in January. When I expressed my condolence and shared that I too had lost a husband recently, she led me to the back of her house when he is buried to show me his grave. She has 8 children and 26 grandchildren. I was overwhelmed by her kind and generous spirit. She is part of a women’s group of entrepreneurs who have all sorts of small businesses. I hope to support them in a more tangible way by buying some of their wares before I leave here (jewelry, fabric, for example).

I think that’s enough for now. I have been missing Jay quite often, but am busy and stimulated enough by my surroundings and activities that my grieving doesn’t pull me down for long periods. The other day when I was discussing someone’s recent illness (an all-too-common topic of conversation given the dicey and unpredictable food we eat here) I was wishing that Jay was around so that I could ask him about the virus or bacteria that was plaguing this particular person. But alas, those days are gone and my always on-call microbiologist who could answer any question about any virus or bacteria can no longer be my primary go-to guy. Made me rather sad for a few moments…

Even though I’m here for such a short time, a blink of an eye, really, I’m forming lots of impressions about Tanzania, and as I meet the women and boys we are here to work with, as well as the Projects Abroad staff who run the projects, my head is swimming with questions that may or may not have answers. I am trying hard to remain a neutral observer, but of course I see everything through my first world, white privileged, Western lens. I will share some of these observations and questions another time.

For now, I am soaking up what I can, and appreciating the way the people I have met embrace us (sometimes literally) and open their homes and their hearts to the outsiders who come to their door and ask to be let in. I am humbled by their grace. We can learn much from their authenticity and lack of pretension.

I guess I’ve always taken a “sink or swim” approach to new adventures. I firmly believe that one of the best ways to experience a new, unfamiliar country and culture is to simply dive headfirst into it (proper preparation and support, along with a willingness to adapt when the unexpected happens definitely helps). I have been in Tanzania only two full days and already I am on sensory overload, as Tanzania is brimming everywhere with a myriad of sights, sounds, colors, and hustle and bustle.

First Impressions

I have been so busy I hardly know where to start. Since this is the Kindness Continuum blog, I will describe my initial impressions through the lens of noteworthy kindnesses shown to me since my arrival, then add a few miscellaneous items about what I’m actually doing here at the end.

1. When my volunteer coordinator, Michael, met me at the airport, we were on the road not 5 minutes before he asked me if I had been in touch with my family to let them know I made it and then insisted that I link with his portable internet hotspot so that I could make contact right away.

   

   I must say it was great fun chatting with family members and sending a couple snapshots from the car window as I was witnessing the wonders of this country for the first time. At one point Michael told me to look out the taxi window and there was Mt. Kilamanjaro in all its glory right in front of me, larger than life, its snowy peak rising up out of the fog as if it were floating on the clouds (we were going too fast for me to get a good picture, but I’m hoping to have another opportunity).

2. My first full day here was spent again with Michael 1) learning how to navigate the public transportation system (definitely not for the faint of heart – more about the dala dalas later), 2) getting set up with a wifi hotspot so I could always be connected to the internet (an important requirement for my volunteer work), 3) mapping out the city and learning where the markets, banks, and major shopping districts are located, 4) changing some dollars to the local currency, and 5) meeting the other people I will be working with while here. I can’t even imagine how many times Michael goes through this same process with hundreds of volunteers, yet he patiently explained everything to me and answered all my questions as if he had all the time in the world. I can’t say I felt very confident or competent to get around all by myself after the orientation, but I did know that there will be plenty of people (just as I had predicted!) that are here to help me. No one will leave me stranded anywhere in the city and help is always a phone call away. The Projects Abroad team makes sure all the volunteers have all the resources they need to get help quickly if needed.

   

3. I met my host family only to discover that none of the children described in the material sent to me are actually living at home (what to do with all those gifts??). The mother of the house has been gone all week, but her housekeeper Anna, made sure that I felt welcome, and my volunteer housemate, Chihiro, promised that she would let me shadow her comings and goings until I felt confident that I knew what I was doing. Both women are interesting young ladies and we have had good conversations as we get to know each other.
4. The other volunteers are an unbelievable bunch, from what I can tell so far. There are about 15 of us currently working out of the Projects Abroad office in Arusha. Three of us are on the human rights project, and the others are working on various projects – microfinance, public health, education, journalism and broadcasting, for example. Unsurprisingly, I’m the oldest one of the group, as they are pretty much all college students, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, with lofty aspirations for their lives and careers, and the tenacity they will need to achieve them. Despite their youth, they have embraced me with open arms as if I were any other volunteer, and they are easy to be with, and eager to help each other out and do things together.
5. The Projects Abroad staff are equally amazing. I think it must be really hard to have so many different volunteers coming in and out of that small office almost on a daily basis, yet they never miss a beat. They are very good at their jobs, are determined to make sure that no volunteer falls through the cracks, and give us (who have no idea what we’re doing) the confidence to take on project responsibilities that pick up where previous volunteers leave off. Many countries are represented – Japan, Austrailia, Netherlands, Norway, Denmark, among others. I don’t know how they do it, but the staff keep us all straight and know when everyone is arriving, when we are leaving, and even remembers our names (a skill I don’t have but greatly admire).

What Will I Be Doing?

Now that I’m here, I am learning what my actual responsibilities will be. They fall into two categories – working with women and working with juvenile offenders.

The Women

In Tanzania, the Constitution clearly states that the genders are equal, but hundreds of years of gender inequality is difficult to change, and so women by and large continue to live life as second class citizens. They don’t always know their legal rights or status, and they don’t understand that they can stand up for their rights. Domestic violence, divorce, custody, and land rights are all circumstances where women’s rights are frequently ignored or denied.

The Projects Abroad volunteers provide community education to these women so that they know what their legal rights are. With this knowledge they can make better decisions about their economic and family situation and be empowered to exercise and defend those rights in court. Where the cases require legal intervention, volunteers refer the women to the Tanzanian Women Lawyer’s Association, which provides free legal representation through the use of pro bono (volunteer) attorneys. There are six different women’s groups that the volunteers visit once or twice a week. We pick a topic, prepare a presentation, and then present it to the women with the help of a translator. Each week is a different topic. So that will be something I will be doing while here.

The Juveniles

The other category of work the human rights volunteers do is to help juvenile offenders who are in detention know what their legal rights are. The Constitution and juvenile laws are very clear about what the police and prosecutors are supposed to be doing with the cases that come before the court, but it is not at all unusual for the police to beat the kids to get a confession, or have them sign a document without reading it, or not to tell them what they’ve been charged with, or to continually postpone the case way past the allowable time periods. The children are routinely left to languish in detention for long periods of time, sometimes over a year. These detentions often occur for extremely minor offenses, and there doesn’t seem to be any effective mechanism for getting the children out while they await trial. They are not entitled to legal representation, and rarely understand what is happening or why they are being held for so long.

The volunteer role with the juveniles is twofold: we interview each one to learn about the circumstances of their case and try to figure out whether any laws were broken. When the case involves police or prosecutors running roughshod over the child’s legal rights, we draft a petition on their behalf that asks the court to consider dismissing the case, or make recommendation for lesser punishment. The volunteers cannot appear in court on their behalf, of course, but these petitions are filed by the social welfare representative appearing with them and are hopefully considered by the magistrate. Apparently the success rate for securing the release of these boys (eventually) is pretty good.

The Projects Abroad team is working with 15 juveniles and the volunteers try to track the progress of their cases as best they can. With new volunteers coming in and out every few weeks, you can imagine how frustrating it is for the boys to always be meeting new people and answering the same questions over and over. Nevertheless, it’s the most that can be done for them, and the Human Rights project director, who knows all the boys and their cases, does provide some continuity. The real problem is the system, and systemic change, while it is happening (we are told), is very slow.

The second way the volunteers help these boys is by providing general education workshops about their legal rights. This is to help them stand up for themselves when they do go to court, and also to help them understand what is happening to them. Sadly, these case drag on for months and months without resolution. Many of the boys dropped out of school very early and are mostly illiterate. It is not unusual for the parent to kick them out or abandon them when they get into trouble, and many of the kids are homeless prior to committing their offense.  The cards are stacked high against them and while the Projects Abroad volunteers can do very little for them during the short time we are here, we are able to show them that someone cares about them and is trying to help them. Sadly, that has to be enough most of the time.

The Incredible Dala Dala

I can’t end without talking just a little bit about the public transportation system here. If you don’t have a car, there are basically three modes of motorized transportation available to you: taxi, motorbike, and Dala Dala. The taxi can be expensive, and the motorbike can be dangerous (lots of horror stories of accidents on motorbikes where helmets are rarely worn and passengers are getting on with unlicensed, young, inexperienced showoff drivers), so most people opt for the Dala Dala.

The Dala Dala is the most reliable, safe and available means of public transportation. Extremely cheap, these large minivans are equipped with perhaps 13 actual seats, yet it is common for them to be stuffed with 15-20 adults or more (not to mention the occasional live chickens, goat, big parcels from the market, or babies and small children). Today when three of us were looking for a ride, the DalaDala that opened its door for us was very clearly crammed to the gills. We were going to pass and wait for the next one, but the steward beckoned us forward and all three of us stuffed ourselves inside (with our big backpacks), standing on the floorboards and squashed between the people seated and anyone who could be squashed in behind us. It is pretty incredible. New York subways have got nothing on the DalaDala – just sayin…

Tanzania is a third world country, and it shows. One is struck by the population density, the extreme poverty apparent everywhere you look, the heavily rutted dirt roads, the inefficient and poorly provided infrastructure, lack of work opportunities, reported corruption, and poor education. That said, at first glance this is an endlessly fascinating and beautiful country and culture, with a lot of resilience, curiosity and adaptability on the part of its population. I look forward to learning more as I traverse the streets of Arusha, and talk to the women and children over the next two weeks.

A few short days from now I will be on another continent, in a physical environment and climate very different from my own, immersed in a culture I know very little about, surrounded by a language I don’t know.  Racially, ethnically, I will be in the extreme minority. Some people have expressed envy and excitement at my upcoming adventure. Others have looked at me with wonder in their eyes and praise me for my courage, telling me I am “brave” or “bold” to be embarking on such a journey. “Are you travelling alone?” they ask. “Yes,” I answer, and they just shake their heads in disbelief.

I am headed to Tanzania, in East Africa, for three weeks. Once there, I will be volunteering on a law and human rights project in the city of Arusha, arranged for me through the organization Projects Abroad.  I chose Tanzania and this project because I have a particular interest in women’s and children’s rights and the short description of the project I would be joining sounded made to order for someone like me.  That’s about all I can say at this point because the description of what I will be doing, while fascinating, was pretty vague on the details. I confess that the vagueness is part of the excitement – I have no preconceived notions about what I will be doing so I’m open to anything!

Preparing for the Unknown

Because I don’t want to be perceived as an “Ugly American” I have been trying to learn what I can about the country before I go.  Learning any meaningful amount of Swahili before the trip has proved a challenge (a sign of my aging brain…?), but I hope to make up for it by taking Swahili lessons during my stay. Given the controversial President we currently have, I don’t know how I will be perceived by most Tanzanians, and confess to being a little apprehensive. Should I proudly wear my kinda cute USA cap that I got free from Old Navy last week? Will that help me or hurt me as I make my way around Arusha? If I give it away, will it be accepted as something to be treasured or something to be trashed? I just don’t know. But I’m bringing it along in the hopes the answer will present itself while there.

I’ll be living with a family during my three weeks, which will give me a much richer experience in the country than if I were staying only in hotels.  At least one person in the household will speak English (so they tell me), but I hope to practice my Swahili as much as possible, especially with the six year old boy who lives there (I’m thinking he might be more my speed as a teacher than any of the adults). I’ve never been very good with names, so I’m hoping that I can commit their names to memory before meeting them. Sadly for me, it is a well known phenomenon that when someone is grieving the loss of a person close to them, short term memory can be negatively affected.  After losing my husband to brain cancer just a few short months ago, I am definitely not feeling mentally on top of things the way I used to be. Learning Swahili and names of the people I will be staying and working with could prove more difficult than would normally be the case.

So there are definitely things I am mildly concerned or anxious about, but overall I’m just excited and glad to be going away, far away from my home base, family, friends, job, responsibilities, everything! I’m in pretty good health, have rarely shied away from the “unknown” and tend to assume the best in people when it comes to asking for help and making new friends. Since I will be traveling under the auspices of Projects Abroad, I will be well supported should anything unexpectedly negative happen (like getting sick, for example – perish the thought!!).

Giving Life A Booster Shot

After my husband’s death, I realized right away that I was going to need some significant space to myself before I could return and be fully present to my former “routine” (nothing really feels routine to me anymore, but maybe someday…). I am extremely fortunate that I could afford both the time and cost of creating that space, and I’m very aware that not many people have the same opportunity to abandon their everyday life for a few weeks. I certainly do not want to squander what I consider to be a privilege and honor.

This African adventure is my much-needed opportunity for renewal. By adding a volunteer component to this period of personal reflection, I hope to enhance the purpose and meaning of the experience. I’m not sure exactly why, but this was an important goal when I was considering where to go and what to do. For some reason, I needed to get myself far away from everything for a period of time, but I also had something pulling me to do so in a way that would provide a focus outside of myself during the same period that I would be focusing on my inner self.

My journey and experience could be interpreted as an extension and outward expression of my mourning, a way of “living my grief” as someone else recently put it. By taking this time out, I am able to live my core values through the volunteer project, while at the same time figure out who I am as a person now that I no longer have my partner of 37 years.

In August I resume my life as a faculty member and social worker (after a one year leave of absence during Jay’s illness), and my plan is to dive back in with enthusiasm and gusto. Not sure I’ll actually be able to pull off the enthusiasm and gusto part yet, but I am hoping to feel renewed and refreshed enough to take on my responsibilities with care and confidence. I hope to incorporate new inspiration and purpose into my daily life when I get home, but in any case, after “getting away from it all” for a time, I think I will be ready to move forward in a healthy way when I get back. At least that’s the plan…

Kindness as an Expectation

It occurs to me that in order to achieve all these lofty goals for myself and for my portion of the volunteer project, I will be relying heavily on the kindnesses of many people whom I have not yet met or may never meet.  It is a little mind boggling to think of how the world is going to have to open itself to my needs as I figure out how to navigate myself through strange airports, strange countries, strange languages, strange foods, strange customs, strange money and strange everything else.

Yet of all the concerns about this trip that may be rolling around in my head, I have the least concern about the people I will be meeting, or the strangers with whom I will be crossing paths in so many large and small ways. I will in no way be taking this trip alone; there will be many people (seen and unseen) by my side, watching my back, the entire time.  Of course, as a foreign guest in an unfamiliar country, I will certainly be mindful of the cautions and advice communicated by those more in the know than I (travel advisories, medical advisories, etc), but overall I have every expectation that I will be embraced with kindness by the people I meet.

Why so confident? Naiveté, perhaps, or outright denial of the risks inherent in taking such a trip (“it could never happen to me!”), utter faith in the core goodness of the vast majority of people in the world, or maybe just a simple analysis that any risk is outweighed by the benefit I will receive. Regardless of the reason, I recognize emphatically that there are many, many people who will be helping me have a successful experience. As I get ready to launch on this adventure, I stop for a moment every now and then to contemplate the enormity of the task that others are undertaking to ensure that my trip is meaningful, productive, and enjoyable.

The kindnesses actually begin before I even leave for the trip. The friends and relatives who will be watching the house, feeding the cat, taking in the mail, for example. Or the kennel owner who bumped the dog to the top of the waiting list when both plan A and plan B fell through. Or the vet who squeezed the dog into their busy day to make sure she got the shots she needed to go to the kennel.  I admit I was a walking basket case during the few days when I didn’t have a plan for how sweet Sophie would be cared for in my absence. But all my fears resolved themselves as one by one, different people stepped forward to let me know they were there for me in the pinch.

Kindness is a two way street, of course, and I will need to be open to everyone I encounter, embracing every opportunity to learn and grow from those I meet and observe along the way. Of course, I am there not only for my exclusive personal benefit, but also to contribute something of value to the project and those who have allowed me to join them in their important work. I need to be able to offer my expertise and assistance without any presumption that I know more than my hosts about what they need or want from me. (As a person who has an opinion on most everything, I’m hoping I’m up to this particular challenge…)

This blog will serve as a journal of sorts during my trip, but I hope to not only relate my personal experiences and the various innumerable kindnesses, but also to connect those experiences to the broader relevance of our everyday lives as well as the larger expanse of the human condition.

Please join me as I navigate these unfamiliar waters – let’s meet my hosts together, and open ourselves to learning what we can from those in the world who live their lives and manage joys and hardships both similar and different from our own. As people from the US, we tend to think that the United States is the end all and be all to our existence on this planet. For example, we often use the term “American” to describe ourselves (i.e. U.S. citizens), which is really the height of hubris and rather insulting to the other Americans on the two continents named for Amerigo Vespucci. We need other frames of reference if we truly want to be citizens of the world.

You can help by participating with me as I go through the next several weeks.  Feel free to subscribe to and share this blog so that we can spread our learning far and wide! And please comment along the way. Actual conversations – in writing or otherwise – are often the best way to explore new ideas and ways of thinking.

 

We like to think the best of people, and when someone is kind and friendly to us, we may assume they are kind and friendly to everyone. But this is not always so, and every now and then we are reminded that some of us enjoy certain kindnesses that others do not. It is easy for many of us to go through life not noticing how some people are treated more unkindly than others, and it’s also easy to ignore it when it happens right in front of us and pretend that it isn’t there.

Case in point:

A young woman recently walked into a senior independent living facility on a beautiful Saturday morning. She was there to visit her boyfriend’s grandmother, and had been there many times before.  The building is a high rise apartment building.  Several hundred people live there, so it is not unusual for unknown people to be coming in and out. There is a front desk in the large lobby area and a registration book for visitors. The receptionist greets people coming in and might ask them to sign the guest book, although this is not consistent and many people simply walk right in. 

On this particular morning, the young woman was stopped as she was entering, and the receptionist said rather curtly, “Can I help you?” The woman replied that she was there to visit someone, and the receptionist asked, without either smile or greeting, “Who are you here to see?” My friend told her the name of the person and the receptionist said in a firm voice, still not smiling, “Do they know you? I haven’t seen you here before.” My friend answered, “I haven’t seen you here before either,” and proceeded to tell the receptionist all about the family, proving beyond doubt that she indeed did know the person she was there to visit. At that point, the receptionist softened and they actually exchanged some pleasantries as she was finally allowed to pass.

Kindness and Chance Encounters

At no time during the initial exchange did the receptionist point the young woman to the registration book, welcome her to the building, wish her a pleasant morning or otherwise make her feel welcome. Instead, the woman left the lobby area feeling that she had been challenged as someone who didn’t belong there and had to prove her right to be in the building. I believe it is significant that the visitor is black, and the receptionist is white. The family she was coming to see is white. It should perhaps also be pointed out that this residential facility has very few black residents, and many of the black women who come into the building are nurse’s aides. They always wear an identification badge as they come and go, which of course the young woman in question wasn’t wearing.

I know both of the women involved in this story. The young black woman is an energetic, friendly (one might say exuberant), ambitious young lady who will no doubt go far in whatever she decides to pursue in life. She is a joy to be around, yet is very aware that her black skin causes people to react to her in certain ways that she can’t always control. In this instance she stood up for her right to be treated with respect, asserting her right to be where she was and not apologizing for someone else’s discomfort with her presence. The respectful and assertive, yet non-combative, way this mature young lady dealt with such a personal indignity is noteworthy. As she stood her ground, she exhibited kindness toward the receptionist, who was not being at all kind. They parted on pleasant terms because of her willingness to be kind in that unkind circumstance.

My own personal experience and observation (up to this point) of the receptionist has been that she is openly friendly and welcoming to all who pass by her desk. She engages in conversation easily, always has a treat ready for dogs coming through the area, and often remembers the names of the various visitors who come in and out. While she has every right to make inquiries of anyone coming into the building and ask them to sign the guest registry, I have never seen her challenge anyone the way she challenged this young woman. Upon hearing about the encounter, I was left feeling deeply disappointed in her. I could only conclude that racial bias was at play. And given what I know about unconscious racial bias, I’m willing to bet that she probably wasn’t even aware that she was treating the young woman differently than she treats most everyone else who comes into the building.

Something got triggered when she saw this casually dressed young black woman coming through the door, and her immediate reaction was that she didn’t belong there and needed to be confronted in a certain forceful kind of way. She probably didn’t realize that when other (white) strangers come in and out they never get the same set of questions delivered with the same level of confrontation. It is these kinds of chance encounters that leave a bad taste in one’s mouth, perpetuate bias, and set the stage for future misunderstandings based on incorrect assumptions and misinformation.

Implicit Bias and the Kindness Continuum

Make no mistake, implicit or unconscious bias is a thing. It is backed up by extensive research and has a significant impact on our behaviors as we go about our day. While race is at the root of much of the unconscious bias in our lives, it is by no means the only personal characteristic we can be biased about – think age, gender, professions, etc. and the ways we are fed a constant barrage of judgmental information about various categories of people. We tend to listen to such information with an ear that confirms the hidden biases underneath.

If you aren’t familiar with the concept of implicit bias, here is a great explanation of the phenomenon, with some ideas on how to address it for ourselves and the world at large:

We are all works in progress. Because the nature of unconscious bias is that we are unaware of it, then we must be ever vigilant to hold ourselves to account when we see ourselves succumbing to its influence. Do we notice ourselves being kinder to some groups or individuals than others? Is this the result of a pattern of triggers that we have been living with all our lives?

There are many reasons for the existence of unconscious bias, and the media certainly plays a large part. How people are portrayed on TV, in movies, in advertising, etc. influences how we unconsciously perceive those people, and in turn how we interact with them. If we grew up with unflattering stories or images of certain groups of people, then we unconsciously tend to believe and react to those influences, even if we don’t think we do. The Kindness Continuum becomes rather fluid, depending on how much we are swayed day to day by these implicit, under the surface thoughts and feelings and impulses.

How we understand, perceive and then address our own unconscious biases can greatly impact how we understand, perceive and interact with the people around us. In the case described above, upon hearing the young black woman’s story of her encounter with the receptionist, the grandmother made a point to go downstairs with her when she was ready to leave. At the door (and in full view of the receptionist as well as anyone else who might have been in the lobby area), the grandmother gave the young woman a big hug, a kiss, and wished her well as she left the building. She modeled kindness without directly confronting the receptionist on her earlier behavior. Will the receptionist learn from that? Not clear, and perhaps it will require a more direct intervention to bring the receptionist’s bias into her own consciousness.

What other options existed in those moments that would foster and build upon a learning opportunity while also avoiding the blame/shame game that would serve little purpose? Thoughts? Comments?

Sunday, 10:30 am

It’s a beautiful sunny morning but I can’t seem to make myself get out of bed. Propped up by my pillows, I can gaze into my backyard and see the bright blue sky.  I watch the birds flying between the feeders and the chipmunks and squirrels scurrying around gobbling up the fallen seeds strewn over the ground. I see them and I appreciate all the activity as I observe the buds finally showing themselves on the trees. Springtime is finally arriving and soon everything will be lush and colorful and vibrant. But at this particular moment I’m not feeling a part of any of it.

Why am I so lethargic and unmotivated? My belly signals that I need to eat something but the mere thought of getting up and doing anything at all just makes me more tired. Where is my energy? I have been lying here all morning, alternately dozing and trying to read, looking out the window, checking the news, anything to avoid getting up.

For the last several weeks I have been totally immersed in preparing for my husband’s Appreciation Event that will be held in a week. It’s one of those tasks that no one can really help me with. Besides planning for how the afternoon will unfold, ordering food, gearing up for the arrival of family, I have also been gathering and organizing all the pictures, documents, and artifacts that I want to have available for people to enjoy.  Jay has been with me constantly throughout this reviewing and organizing. He looks at me from the photographs. He speaks to me from the letters he wrote to me years ago. I hear his voice as I read his unfinished novel. I feel him laughing with me as I remember our adventures represented in the photos, letters and video clips. And I relive those precious moments caught on tape when he rocked and sang to our newborn son as only a doting father can.

The event is going to be beautiful (at least, that’s the plan!). I’m looking forward to sharing the parts of Jay I loved the most with the friends and relatives who will be there. And I’m looking forward to those who knew him differently than I did sharing the Jay they knew with me. I’ve been working really hard to make sure that it is an event that will be special, and honor his memory and life in a way that highlights what we appreciated the most while he was here and will miss the most now that he’s gone.

But all this time spent poring over everything and burying myself in my memories day after day has come at a cost. It has caused me to grieve more intensely and frequently than I might have otherwise over the same period of time. Overall, I believe that letting my emotions surface, and even encouraging myself to express them openly, is a healthy way to mourn my loss. While my pain is deeply felt, and lurks just beneath the surface of my days, this process called mourning is teaching me how to acknowledge and honor the grief when it hits me, and at the same time continue to function and move forward in life.

Today, though, my feelings are open and raw, and I am emotionally tired. Tired of having to settle for only memories. Tired of only holding his clothes close to me instead of holding him close. Tired of sleeping without him next to me. Tired of not having him to talk to at the beginning or end of my day. Tired of making decisions without talking things over with him first. Tired of not having his humor nearby to brighten my spirit. And on and on and on… just tired of my status quo.

So I didn’t get out of bed all morning despite the beautiful spring day.

Sunday, same day, 11:00 a.m.

A person very important in my life called me. She didn’t know what kind of morning I had been having. In fact, she called because she assumed I was having the exact opposite kind of morning. My son is home for the weekend and she thought we would be going out for breakfast or a walk in the park, or something else fun. Didn’t matter what because she knew that my son and I were together and she just wanted to join our party from afar.

What she didn’t know was that Conrad had spent the night elsewhere, visiting a friend, and wasn’t back yet. So there I was, mopey and sad, a counterweight to her infectious cheerfulness.

I had to get out of bed to answer the phone, and when I saw who it was I immediately began to brighten up. She had no idea when she called how much I needed to hear her voice, but she realized right away the funk I was in and kicked into high gear as only the best people in the world can do.

She listened as I told her how my morning had been going. She waited when my voice broke and I had to stop talking, and gently pointed out that what I was feeling was totally normal in light of my grief and the upcoming event. We cried, then laughed, together as we moved beyond my troubles and talked about recent family adventures and other topics.

She gave me not only validation but also perspective, and by the end of the call I was finally able to move my day out of the bed and into the land of the still living. I am definitely feeling the pressure of the upcoming event and all my emotions that will be bubbling up between now and then (and beyond), but after talking to her I felt better equipped to face everything.

Simple Kindnesses Sometimes Mean the Most

When we are facing hardships I believe it is healthy to take an emotional and physical break from the world from time to time. I think that’s what happened to me.  While there are many different ways to take a break from your life, lying around moping in bed was apparently my way on that particular day.  But sometimes all it takes is a simple kindness from a special someone to lift us up and help us bounce back.

I’m not trying to say that a phone call to someone who might be suffering is always the right thing to do, or that it will always work. What I am trying to say is that there are simple ways to reach out to those you care about and who may be having a hard day to let them know you are there for them. How you do that and the best communication method will depend on your particular relationship, and your own approach to reaching out.

And don’t take it personally if your effort to check in isn’t received in the way you expected or wanted. Remember, the act of reaching out is not about you, but rather the person you care about. Sometimes timing is everything, and just knowing that you made the effort to be in touch is often enough to have the desired effect, whether you are there to witness that effect or not.

 

I spent a recent weekend in New York City, one of the most interesting, unique and complex places on earth (yes, I know, there are many interesting, unique and complex places in the world, but this is definitely one of them!). I was visiting my 22 year old son, who moved here two months ago and is at the beginning stages of launching his career as a computer scientist. He seems to be adjusting quite well for someone who has spent the last 10 years anchored in the Midwest. We traversed the subway system, he striding through the underground network of trains, paving his way through the massive crowds with confidence and fortitude, while I hurried behind in his wake. We explored together as he searched for his first apartment, we ate meals with friends (a surprise bonus – you never know who you’re going to run into in this city!), and generally enjoyed each other’s company after many weeks apart.

Now that I have started this blog (which allows me to write at length about whatever moves me) I find that I am always on the lookout for material that will give me what I hope will be an interesting perspective on kindness to write about. This means that I tend to look at the world a bit differently than I did before, and I’m observing phenomena that I may not have otherwise noticed. That’s what happened over my NY weekend. I made some observations that were unexpected and surprised me a little.

New York Gets a Bad Rap

I have been to New York many times, but as a non-New Yorker I have to admit that I have subscribed to the vision of coldness of the city in general, and I’m not talking about the weather. New Yorkers, we are told, are rude, pushy, unfriendly and totally status conscious. They are always in a hurry, have no consideration for others, and arrogant. It’s pretty easy to find confirmations of those assumptions if that’s all you are looking for.

When you think about it, any densely populated area (and you can’t get much more densely populated than Manhattan), shoves people together in very close quarters, 24/7. It becomes very difficult to claim and maintain any sense of private space when you are out on the public streets, and living quarters for most people are notoriously cramped. When my son finds the housing he is looking for, he will be paying top dollar for a small room barely big enough for a bed, and sharing the tiny kitchen and living area and bath with two or three strangers. Wherever you go there are hoards of other people going the same way you are, and hoards of other people going the opposite direction, and hoards of people going in every other possible direction, all at the same time. On a day with nice weather, those hoards increase exponentially.

To the casual observer, people are rushing around, not talking to each other or even making eye contact, stopping for no apparent reason right in front of you (causing you to occasionally crash right into them), and generally making it difficult to get anywhere easily. 

The Kindness Continuum Dance

These stereotypes probably sound familiar and accurate, even to those of you who live in the city, but there is much more going on than meets the eye (or the assumptions, as it were).  If you look a little deeper, all of these mass movements consist of a delicate and complex dance among strangers and crowds. Most people are pretty good at the dance, and figure it out quickly.  I find this intensely interesting, especially when you consider that the thousands of people traversing the streets in New York are incredibly diverse. Every color of skin is represented, every nationality, every age, every sexual identity and orientation, every personality type you can imagine. Multiple languages are spoken all around you all the time. Native New Yorkers mix and blend with first time visitors constantly. It’s what makes the city at once so vibrant but also potentially extremely stressful.

Our usual little petty annoyances simply have no place in this environment. When we are riding a packed subway, it makes no sense to get upset when someone shoves against you as the train lurches forward. And when someone in the back of the train is trying to get to the door, people must graciously part the way to let them through, even if that means we squeeze more tightly together and step on each others’ toes to make that happen. People don’t roll their eyes when a family with a stroller gets on the train that is already packed to the gills. They just make the space and say “no problem” when the parent apologizes for rolling the stroller over someone’s foot.

This dance is really quite astounding when you think about it. All it would take is one person to disrupt the peace and all hell would break loose. And that of course does happen, but thankfully it is relatively rare when you consider the millions of people who make their ways here and there throughout the city every day. And even if you avoid the train and take a cab it isn’t necessarily any less stressful. Consider the constant sirens, the gridlock traffic, horns honking at pedestrians (who have the right of way) to get out of the intersection, horns honking at other cars or trucks as if they had the power to will the crowd to disperse and let them through. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy. And don’t even get me started about the bicycles weaving in and out of traffic and crowds everywhere.

Somehow we are able to rise to the occasion and keep our unkind impulses in check in such situations. Why is that? And why don’t we keep them in check in less fraught situations?

Compatibility Among Strangers

Another observation took place outside the crowded subway in Central Park. It was a beautiful spring day and the park was very crowded. One well known stereotype is that New Yorkers will never greet you on the street, and I have found this to be true not only in New York but in most cities of any size. But while I was observing that particular city habit, I also noticed something else going on. As you might expect, people were in discrete groups in the park: families, couples, friends, individuals, people with dogs. The groups of people enjoying Central Park were in very close proximity to each other and not interacting, and yet there was a synergy and compatibility among the groups and people that was unmistakable.

Often times we recoil when someone invades our space, but that wasn’t happening the day I was there. The people I saw were very respectful of the insular activities of the different people and groups in the park. Some were having a picnic. Some were taking photographs. Some were playing games and running around. Some were walking their dogs. People shared crowded park benches. Some were stopped on the sidewalk to listen to an impromptu jazz combo that had set up in the park. Many like me were intentionally spending the time alone, enjoying the serene beauty of the spring day and the New York skyline. People were constantly crossing paths and moving in and out of each others’ spaces. When they communicated with each  it was pleasant and with respect. No one got overly upset when someone walked in front of their camera just as they were about to take a picture. I mean really, how can you avoid it with that many people walking around?

I decided that as long as I was in this environment I would initiate an extremely limited (and unscientific) social experiment. I noticed that when I initiated brief conversation with others while standing in a line or walking along a crowded street, people were openly friendly with their response. I’m not talking about anything overly in depth. Just a brief comment about the line, the traffic, the weather, maybe a self deprecating or humorous remark or observation. Nothing that required much thought or investment of emotion or time, and nothing that inquired about personal information from the other person.

I had a fair number of very brief encounters with people in this way. They took place at the deli while waiting for my bagel (in case you don’t know this, New York bagels are worth the whole trip…just sayin), while trying to find my way around the Museum of Modern Art, at the airport, in the Park, on the train, while waiting to cross the street, virtually everywhere. While most people didn’t initiate conversations with strangers, I found that when I did so these brief encounters were not rebuffed but rather embraced. When I paid attention and looked around, I witnessed them occurring all around me.

What Does it All Mean?

What is the significance of all this fascinating behavior as it relates to the Kindness Continuum? I think that while being in constant close proximity to others, such as exists in densely populated areas like New York and other large cities, we find ways to be together without really being together. The human connectedness that we all need is there but we also need our private space and that is there as well, even among the throngs of people. We tune others out so that we can be alone with our thoughts.

The stress of constant interaction is tempered by our ability to find solace and isolation in the midst of raging chaos, and we recognize the necessity of finding the inner strength not to let the stress overtake us. At the same time, we grant others grace when they “invade” our space, and we expect that grace when we “invade” theirs. In this way, by constantly accommodating ourselves and others, we reduce our overall stress levels and are able to function in a calmer, more efficient manner. Yes, it is a culture shock to travel to a city like New York when your own daily environment is so different from the constant hustle and bustle, but we humans are adaptable creatures, and adapt we must in order to survive.

Of course I’m speaking in generalities about collective behavior and interactions. There are numerous examples of how such a stressful, crowded environment can wreak havoc with our lives over time, and we read everyday about situations where people simply “snap” from all the pressure.  But I am convinced that people who live their whole lives in such environments, along with the casual visitors like me, find ways to make it work so that the vast majority of the time, our encounters with each other are benign and even friendly at those times when we do reach out to each other. We don’t fly off the handle at the least little thing because we couldn’t survive very long in that kind of a social climate.

Thoughts? Your own experience and observations?

 

When you are grieving, the “experts” (i.e. the books and authors I turn to for comfort) tell us that if you loved passionately and deeply, then you need to grieve passionately and deeply. You can’t really have one without the other. In order to survive the loss we must embrace and express all of the emotions we feel as we mourn. Not only that, but we need to have available to us people who listen and allow us to mourn openly and in their presence. Grieving in isolation only adds to the loneliness we already feel.

Those same experts will tell you that everybody’s grief journey is different from everyone else’s. It’s impossible to compare your process of mourning with anyone else because the relationship you are grieving is unique, even if you and someone else are grieving the loss of the same person. We all experience it differently, so those around us who are supporting us in our grief are going to see my grief expressed differently from anyone else they may have supported.

So grieving is not a solo ride. In order to get to the place where I can move forward and live my life fully again but without Jay by my side, I have to be willing to reach out to others and expose the underbelly of my emotions. I have to trust that those with whom I share my raw emotions will be there to listen and care for me. It is not an easy task to expose your vulnerability in all its glory with someone else, no matter how good a friend they are or how close of a family member.  Yet I believe the experts when they tell me that this is a necessary part of the process. We are social beings and need the presence and comfort of others.

Our society for the most part doesn’t value this open expression of emotion. Men and boys especially are often vilified for it. Crying in public is characterized disparagingly as a female emotion. How many times are boys told, “Stop crying like a little girl!” Or, “Don’t be a sissy!” Of course, girls hear the boys being told that and immediately understand it for the insult to girls that it is, and they, along with the boys, begin pushing those emotions under the carpet, rarely to be seen in the open. No one wants to be perceived as weak, especially in the competitive environment that is the United States.

My husband Jay was at times a victim of this societal pressure to fit the American male stereotype. He was 64 when he died, and although he was quite progressive in many ways (he pretty much had to be in order to live 37 years with me…), he could be rather archaic in the way he thought about what it meant to be a man. While he was actually quite tender and soft, he could often be “over the top” in the way he talked about or took on the role of what he thought a “manly man” should be. It was often done tongue in cheek for the benefit of his audience and could also be quite humorous, as my nephews will tell you. (but also annoying for this die-hard feminist)

The Kindness Theory of World Peace

But I digress. What does all this have to do with the Kindness Continuum? Well, I believe that the reluctance we have in showing our emotions to others in general but especially when we are grieving is similar to the reluctance we have sometimes in exhibiting overt kindness toward others, especially those with whom we may have a “problem.”

Recently I have been exploring other kindness related web resources out there in cyberspace and beyond. I am struck by the number of articles, books and websites devoted to kindness that encourage us all to join the “kindness revolution” or become part of a “movement” to increase kindness around the world. Many are devoted to extolling the virtues of random acts of kindness, in the belief that one single act of kindness toward someone else will start a chain reaction of kindness that expands exponentially into the future, as more and more people incorporate more and more acts of kindness into their everyday lives.

As I understand it, the theory appears to be that spreading and expanding kindness in this way will lead to world peace. I think it may be a bit more complicated than that.

I get it that world peace has to start somewhere, but if this theory is true then why is there still so much hate in the world? Why are we still so polarized in our political beliefs and values that our government is barely able to function? Why is it so difficult for us to respect the views and values of someone else and behave accordingly? Why do we lash out and avoid rather than reach out and embrace? What is getting in the way of all that kindness and why don’t we seem to be progressing forward in this important endeavor?  When I look around I’m just not seeing much evidence of a kindness revolution taking over our country, and don’t even get me started on what’s going on around the world!

The Kindness Theory vs. The Kindness Continuum

It’s a nice theory, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. We all fall into the trap of being kind to some people and not so kind to others who we don’t like so much, or who we don’t even know. We are quick to judge others based on little or no information. We preach kindness and the golden rule to our children, yet demonstrate to them (often right in front of them) the exact opposite of that in the way we talk to and about others.  Why is it so easy for us to talk the talk, but not be able to walk the walk? Our attitudes and behavior constantly are moving up and down the Continuum as a matter of convenience for ourselves, and this can have immense repercussions on a large scale, especially when it comes to making policy.

These questions intrigue me and make me want to understand the motivations behind our inconsistent behaviors. There is plenty of research out there that tells us one of the secrets to happiness and life satisfaction is human connection. When we feel connected to others and have positive social interactions we tend to be healthier and thrive and live longer. This is well documented. When we are separated and live more isolated lives, we are less happy, less healthy, and live shorter lives. So why do many of us often choose separation rather than connection?

Them vs. Us

When I talk about isolation and separation, I’m not talking  about living a life as a hermit, with no one around. It is possible to be very isolated even while surrounded by others. We erect emotional barriers that push people away and keep them away. We all know people who are not pleasant to be around, and we avoid interacting with them because it saps so much emotional energy. Certain people “push our buttons” and we recoil as soon as they start talking or walk into a room. There are some people with whom every interaction becomes one characterized by conflict, confrontation and frustration. We start getting angry just by thinking about that person. Sound at all familiar?

So is the problem that person or is it us? Are we doing the pushing away or is the other person? Are they pushing our buttons or are we pushing theirs? And how do we react when our buttons get pushed? Do we respond in a kind and respectful manner or in an angry, confrontational manner? Do we think before we respond? Or do we just seethe in private and avoid any conversation at all?

The Kindness Continuum allows for the possibility that there are degrees of kindness in every interaction. Communication, both verbal and nonverbal, is a two way street. How someone responds to us often depends on how we say what we say. When communications and attitudes toward others are based on assumptions that are faulty, with little or no evidence to support them, then bad things can begin to happen.  Wide ranging repercussions can go way beyond an original interaction and end up impacting policy decisions.

For example, there is a fair amount of evidence to suggest that we can reduce the number of people returning to prison after serving their time by offering them resources and support, and treating them with kindness and respect even while they are being punished. Yet as a society we think nothing of basically throwing someone’s life away and making it virtually impossible for them to rehabilitate and be productive after serving their time. All because we refuse to see them as people with potential and only see them as “bad” people who will never again be worthy of kindness or respect or personal dignity. Our individual willingness to throw people away gets translated to policies that have resulted in the United States having the highest rate of incarceration in the world.  When it happens to young boys and girls, those negative repercussions last a lifetime.

Emotional Vulnerability and Kindness

So back to my question for us as individuals: why hasn’t the “kindness revolution” taken hold if we believe in the power of kind acts? I believe it has something to do with our emotional vulnerability. Looking at it very simplistically, pushing people away and walling ourselves off from others prevents us from opening ourselves up to disappointment, rejection, or someone else’s wrath.

Being kind takes work, emotional energy and requires a certain level of trust. We have to be willing to expend the energy to “put ourselves out there” and risk that the other person may not respond the way we want or expect. Avoiding connection with others insulates us and can be so much easier, but we pay a steep price for it in the long run. As for those of us who are grieving a significant loss, it is healthier for us as human beings to reach out and extend kindness to others even when it may not be reciprocated, rather than keep everything inside and avoid “risky” interactions.

Incorporating Small Kindnesses into Our Lives

One way to nurture kindness into our daily routine is to simply avoid making value judgments about others and avoid using “loaded” language when speaking to others. This technique requires intention, but doesn’t have to take a lot of extra effort.

As a trained mediator, I was taught how to communicate and express ideas in a neutral, non-judgmental way. While I’m definitely not perfect at it, this skill is extremely important when sitting between two combatants who are hurling insults and blame at each other for whatever is causing the conflict between them. The words coming out of their mouths directed at the other person can be cruel, demeaning, insulting and ugly. It becomes my job to help neutralize the ugliness so that they can actually talk to each other, hear the other’s point of view, and (hopefully) reach an amicable solution that satisfies both sides. As I try to gently move them up the Kindness Continuum, some people are able to open themselves to listening and respecting the other person’s point of view fairly easily. Solutions may be difficult, but in an atmosphere of respect and trust (and kindness), not unattainable. Others never get there and end up leaving the room still seething, without a shred of understanding or compassion for the other side.

The mediation example above illustrates the importance of embracing others and their perspectives, even when wildly different from our own. Doing so can deescalate a tense, volatile situation. But this requires a willingness to risk disappointment and rejection if that openness is not reciprocated. When kindness is reciprocated we are elated and feel great; when it is rejected we are crushed, and may blame ourselves. Often, there is no middle ground for our fragile emotions. Not wanting to risk the unpleasant emotional turmoil we feel when our overtures are rejected, we take the easy route and simply avoid situations where that could happen.

I challenge all of us to think about our daily human interactions, and how we contribute to the various separations and connections in our lives. Are we satisfied with what we find? Can we aspire to do better? I know I can do better, how about you?