tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44464825248751992072024-03-04T23:31:37.714-08:00Mine. Yours. Theirs....OURS!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-8301436958176750982014-09-01T12:14:00.003-07:002014-09-01T12:14:23.941-07:00Essential Question<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
How
do stories reflect and shape culture?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anthropologist
Mabel Cook Cole begins her anthology of Philippine Folk Tales describing a
singsong tone in the still of the night where “a single voice…could be heard
reciting tales of heroes who knew the magic of the betel-nut, or with stories
of spirits and their power over the lives of men.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read her collection of stories and walked
the streets of Manila and Bacolod City listening for that storyteller’s voice,
but I never heard a single voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
heard a symphony.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Philippines is
a nation of over 7,000 islands and between 120 and 175 different languages
depending on how they are classified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Colonized by the Spanish in the 16<sup>th</sup> century who handed their
rule over to the Americans in the late 1800’s, it is a land of many stories and
voices. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered about the multitudes
of languages and culture as I walked the streets of Manila encountering those I
could only identify as Filipino.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered
what bond held this nation of diversity together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could so many voices make up the story of
this one nation?<o:p></o:p></div>
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My story gathering
began with the Philippine national hero, Jose Rizal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A storyteller himself, Rizal led a reform
movement advocating for freedom and individual rights through his novels and
poems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although not an advocate of
violence, his execution launched a bloody revolution against Spain that ended
when the United States took over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
highlights the importance of literacy to freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Spanish would not allow the Filipinos to
learn the Spanish language or be educated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is how they maintained control over the land and kept the people
subservient to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was through
reading, writing, and spreading the ideas of freedom through literature that
the people became free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rizal was of an
elite class and never advocated for the Filipino to be educated in Spanish but
rather to learn to read and write in their native tongues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wrote, “While a people preserves its
language; it preserves the marks of liberty.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>More than one hundred years later, after a century of compulsory
education in English, his nation would finally respond to his directive and
begin to educate its children in native dialects and the Filipino national
language of Tagalog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How does this story
reflect and shape culture?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rizal
reflects the Filipino indirect, nonviolent culture with his indirect literary
approach to revolution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His remembrance
also shapes culture as many sources attribute his national hero status to the
Americans who would have benefited from lifting a non-violent writer
sympathetic to their value system up for the masses to follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
story from Bacolod that drew my attention was of the Masskara Festival held the
third week of October each year. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
assumed the festival was similar to other masked festivals celebrated in
Catholic nations like Carnival or Mardi Gras or even the Day of the Dead, but I
was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This festival of brilliant
masks, street dancing, parades and pageantry was introduced to lift the
islander’s spirits after a particularly trying year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Negros Occidental is one of the few islands
in the Philippines whose main export is sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When the sugar prices plummeted in the 1970’s the island suffered a
significant financial crisis and people’s lives became harsh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then tragedy struck as a ferry collided with
a tanker killing hundreds of residents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The festival was incorporated to encourage citizens to put on a good
face and steadfastly carry on through difficult times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a beautiful reflection of the steadfast,
enduring people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Small in stature but
tall in spirit, these people fought the Japanese in World War II three times
longer than the Japanese expected, protecting both Australia and Hawaii from
invasion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">My journey through the mountains
and the beaches and the city streets of the Philippines did not bring me to the
voice of a single storyteller like Mabel Cook encountered.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">I encountered literally hundreds of stories
in my three weeks in the Philippines, individual stories and national stories
that endeared me to these beautiful people.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;">
</span><span style="line-height: 200%;">I saw hints of both the reflection and shaping of culture in the stories
they tell and remember.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Colonizers
introduced stories to subdue the people.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;">
</span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Teachers shared stories like Beowulf while challenging students to avoid
corrupt leadership.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Artists depicted
stories from native tribes struggling to survive.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">In my final walk through Manila, I still saw
Filipinos but also noticed hints of Iloccano and Visayan and Tagalog.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Unique foods, dress, rituals, language and
stories come from all of the ethnic groups that we call Filipino.</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Their stories (just like our stories) are invaluable to the global
story we are composing today.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-74796355373982439992014-07-22T14:50:00.003-07:002017-01-10T11:48:35.499-08:00Lessons from OZ - 9/11, Corregidor, Bataan, the Spanish American War<h4 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Perspectives of Oz</h4>
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A masterful twist in storytelling the musical <i>Wicked</i> demonstrates the power of perspective as they tell the story of Dorothy's journey to Oz from the perspective of Glenda the Good Witch who revealed the goodness of the Wicked Witch of the West. The twist sent me reeling through historic images representing multiple stories told, lectured, memorized, assessed - from the perspective I was taught which was the perspective in the textbook or at least the perspectives I can find on the Internet. <br />
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Corregidor</h4>
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I knew MacArthur and his famous promise to return, but I didn't get the battle. I didn't get the pounding it out in muggy heat on a small island infested with enemies. I didn't get the danger of manning ginormous outdated guns designed for warships and the bravery of privates, sergeants, corporals and colonels who died beneath those guns fighting, protecting each other until their very last breath. I didn't get the ominous fear of looking at Bataan every single day where 78,000 comrades were captured and marching to their death. I didn't get the heroic in being overtaken by tortuous cruel enemies in 157 days instead of in the 50 days the enemy had planned. I didn't get the pride in surrendering to hell ships knowing that the 157 day fight on your little island kept Australia and Hawaii from invasion, and knowing your upcoming boat ride would lead to starvation, disease, and most likely death. I didn't get it until I read the plaques honoring heroes of every rank as if they were of equal rank and stood beneath batteries named after the simple and elite heroes who last fired them. I didn't get it until I walked through the monuments representing the dog tags that littered the island when the Japanese were finally defeated. I didn't understand the Pacific side of this war.</div>
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The Twist</h4>
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So what's the lesson from Oz from Corregidor? There's the Western Hemisphere twist where I learned about Hitler and the Holocaust (which are very valuable) in school. I am not certain if the Pacific stories weren't covered or I just wasn't interested. Whichever it was, I had a sense of shame reading of American heroes who were known and honored by foreigners but not by me. My grandfather had fought in the Pacific. He wouldn't speak of it. Others tell me that their grandfathers wouldn't speak of it either. Did their inability to speak of those atrocities keep them from my history class? The loudest story gets remembered.</div>
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Then of course, there is the Japanese twist. The "Wicked Witch of the East" in our war story. They don't see themselves as wicked. Just like Alexander the Great saw himself as the great liberator setting nation after nation free from the control of the Persians, General Tojo saw Japan as a freeing force liberating the Asian world from Western Imperialism. His little island lacked resources to survive in the 20th century market place. By conquering Allied colonies in Asia while those Western powers were busy with Hitler, he would save Asian from the West and obtain valuable resources for his fledgling nation. They weren't destroyers. They were saviors. Conquering Western colonies in Asia would also protect the world from the rising Chinese.</div>
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The Japanese visit Corregidor. Interestingly they take a different bus tour than Filipinos and Americans. It is presented in Japanese by Japanese tour guides. The Filipino tour guide, once asked a Japanese tourist what they spoke about on their tour. The tourist replied, "Hiroshima and Nagasaki." The colonizing Americans are the evil force in the Japanese version of the story. Perspective. We will have come a long way when both tours contain both stories.</div>
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Evil Colonizers</h4>
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"The Spanish gave us religion and the Americans gave us education." Filipinos are the most flexible thinking people I have every met. Their positive outlook and ability to see stories from multiple perspectives is a testament to their respect for the diversity that defines the Philippines. They appear to be very grateful for their past, even the "evil colonizers." That is one aspect of the Corregidor story that the Japanese got wrong. The Filipinos were quite happy to fight alongside the Americans who were defending Filipino and American independence. They appreciated the American presence. </div>
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When the Spanish came to the Philippines, it was not a nation. It contained multitudes of islands and disconnected tribes. The Spanish developed plantations that Filipinos worked. They brought priests who united Filipinos under one religion, but the Filipinos were not allowed to learn Spanish. They were somewhat enslaved by the Spanish who ruled them through Mexico for three centuries. The island of Bacolod stands as a testament to that colonization with remnants of grand mansion homes smattered about the island and remnants of plantations owned by wealthy landlords with poor tenant farmers scraping out a living from the soil. The Spanish burned the mansions to keep them from the encroaching Japanese, so only shells remain.</div>
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So the twist in the imperialism story is in the GI Joe. That's what Filipinos call white people, those they believe to be American. In 1987 I didn't investigate the nickname much. I just hung my head each time in the shame of knowing that we had occupied and controlled another nation that we had bought from a powerful abusive empire. This time I asked. Turns out it is a term of endearment. It's not a slam. There are those among the Filipino who are anti-western in the fact that they want their people to shake the colonized part of their culture. They want Filipinos to be strong and independent. They protest US military activity in their area and want the Filipino military to stand on its own, but they don't hate Americans or call us derogatory names. "Joe" is a kind-hearted knick name for a gentle overseer that Filipinos fought and died with for the sake of obtaining freedom.</div>
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Marcos</h4>
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In 1987 I heard about a rebellion that ousted a miserable dictator. I heard about a first lady with multitudes of shoes and a mansion overlooking horrific Philippine slums. I "knew" that Filipinos hated these leaders and celebrated the new era of freedom, but I was wrong. One of our host teacher spoke lovingly of Imelda Marcos who came from his island. He told me everything that Marcos had done to push the Philippines forward economically. I held my opinions to myself and listened to Filipinos speak of Marcos. Most did not seem to hate him as we did. Corruption is integral to Filipino culture, Maybe from having to bribe occupiers and live as colonists for so long. He was not the Wicked Witch of East to all Filipinos.</div>
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So the <i>Wizard of Oz</i> told from the <i>Wicked </i>perspective highlights the twists in story lines throughout history as the history is seen from a variety of perspectives. A unifying theme in each story though is the call for freedom from every direction. We can even hear echos of cries to be themselves, to be free, to be human, to control their own resources, to be respected in their differences, to be able to pursue a higher quality of life from the hijackers of 9/11 who left such civilian destruction in their wake. We all want to be free and fight the oppression we perceive even as those who fight us perceive us to be oppressive. The rallying call of so many stories throughout history is freedom. Maybe we will find it if we refrain from labeling those who oppose us as witches and begin to care for their freedom as well as our own.</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-91685825410755291822014-07-18T08:18:00.001-07:002014-07-18T08:25:16.308-07:00Lessons from a Drag Queen...<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span></span>
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOFHOD-TBgA2TEiyWe7AganjqfbfLObEVNGT3XVrlblwzeBrJJNJeIYy-bJ3ty8oPZ5AJJeAOxupHG3FxUK7TRiiSsmLRTBMGFfxx8xz9zmO0wDbAUEzhh9dtaTzY2TecbghSY239VgaI/s1600/kinky-boots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOFHOD-TBgA2TEiyWe7AganjqfbfLObEVNGT3XVrlblwzeBrJJNJeIYy-bJ3ty8oPZ5AJJeAOxupHG3FxUK7TRiiSsmLRTBMGFfxx8xz9zmO0wDbAUEzhh9dtaTzY2TecbghSY239VgaI/s1600/kinky-boots.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; line-height: 16px;">A prodigal son saves his family's conservative shoe business by manufacturing bright, heeled boots for transvestites. Yep, that's the storyline of the most inspiring Broadway musical I have seen so far in New York. It brought me to tears and left me contemplating my search to understand the significance of individual stories in the global scheme of things as we all get mushed together in this "global village" and as we are pushed to adopt common values. </span></span><br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHRSTQtawFdtoaQjdDxJl_pX77HJJOH6j2INNOVzMt1oLSQbLzCbU9wCDPkOblRYnp57FTdIuDGXwnPzwu4xRX6qZ51Vag1yX3conjU26DRCskp9ngCeaZQh9j9-78A6_yC8_oQr2kUs6/s1600/Cities.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHRSTQtawFdtoaQjdDxJl_pX77HJJOH6j2INNOVzMt1oLSQbLzCbU9wCDPkOblRYnp57FTdIuDGXwnPzwu4xRX6qZ51Vag1yX3conjU26DRCskp9ngCeaZQh9j9-78A6_yC8_oQr2kUs6/s1600/Cities.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; line-height: 16px;">Manila, New York, cities everywhere are hodgepodges of culture. Consider the basic impact of cultural diffusion and it is clear that the people flocking the city streets are an assimilation of so many different stories and cultures. Do they create new culture or are they still essentially of the same place where they grew up? The farther you drive from Manila, the more distinct culture is found. Foods, dress, dances, rituals and such change and reflect the culture of specific regions. After experiencing that culture, it is evident in Manila, but before knowing it, all citizens of Manila looked, well, city-like and basically the same. I didn't hear the dialects and see the uniquely cultured people in Manila. It's easier to find in New York where neighborhoods are defined as "Little Italy" and "China Town" but it seems that the cultures melt together. However, after visiting the provinces in the Philippines, I could find them in Manila. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">I believe that the individual stories and value systems represented in groups and individuals across the world are significant to the survival of all of us. I worry when the values clashes threaten to eliminate one system or put one system above another. Call it yin and yang or whatever you would like, but I think we do need balance. When our ancestors came from Europe and replaced the native concept of land with the European concept of land we began a desecration of resources that we may not recover from. The same clash of the concept of land ownership turned the Philippine shared tribal land into plantations. There is value in the ownership, conservation, and communal concept of land. I believe a world with only one system of land management would fail. My home culture is threatened by global cultural messages. As the dominant voices in world culture speak against land use and diesel trucks and guns, "scientists," "environmentalists," and "humanitarians" threaten a subculture that I think matters. I'm not for pollution and land waste and randomly shooting people on the streets; neither are the Western people I represent. As I move through the crowded streets of Manila or New York, I want my left wing counterparts to know that I value your stories. I value your perspectives. They are essential to a peaceful, beautiful, fully operational world. Can you value mine? Can you consider what the world would lose if my people gave up their guns, diesels and access to public land? We are a small population, with our own way of life, but just like snuffing out a tiny species from the ecosystem throws the system off, snuffing out our little stories will throw off the world cultural system. Our story matters too and is worth protecting. We are a people, a subgroup, a significant part of the world cultural economy. </span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhbivhtAskMKI6_9bMqyQPPsArx2hdft_Tj3z2xcepYiUsItJL4xZE67XG54HxN0o_DcON0Tn4GAv7BwpWRKrMKI_6CaisUiVz6lbH6wM1N58q5r0_8GGasG14wgZ91kzK1PjqhLGNTVP/s1600/Cowboy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhbivhtAskMKI6_9bMqyQPPsArx2hdft_Tj3z2xcepYiUsItJL4xZE67XG54HxN0o_DcON0Tn4GAv7BwpWRKrMKI_6CaisUiVz6lbH6wM1N58q5r0_8GGasG14wgZ91kzK1PjqhLGNTVP/s1600/Cowboy.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDnPeJYgTnj7L_pOltrkJLURvWFtm_EHVHVFcfnBdbYaTml_Q8qDexvFXlH1Zl5pi7eMNLRGZfkf3ulVoVcdJ-kSm802w_Fofu_ZosVLKFa3WE9dsEMft4t1UoKgvs_NdwC6UihHV3Gpc/s1600/Kinky+Queen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDnPeJYgTnj7L_pOltrkJLURvWFtm_EHVHVFcfnBdbYaTml_Q8qDexvFXlH1Zl5pi7eMNLRGZfkf3ulVoVcdJ-kSm802w_Fofu_ZosVLKFa3WE9dsEMft4t1UoKgvs_NdwC6UihHV3Gpc/s1600/Kinky+Queen.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a><span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">So my new drag queen friend, Lola, from the musical <i>Kinky Boots </i>challenged a manly man to display his manliness by accepting someone for who they are. My mountain men cowboys have a heck of a time being accepted by those whose rallying cry is tolerance. It seems they have no tolerance for stories like ours. Lola accepted the manly man, and I believe would accept my cowboy clan. The literary world can be idealistic and Lola surely was that! The Philippines appears pretty idealistic as well as they engage in preserving cultures and stories of what might be the most diverse nation on earth. Can we learn from Lola and Filipinos to truly value our diversity as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">I will end with the <i>Kinky Boots </i>Six Step Program for living:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">One: Pursue the truth</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Two: Learn something new</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Three: Accept yourself and you'll accept others too!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Four: Let love shine</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Five: Let pride be your guide</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Six: Change the world when you change your mind!</span><br />
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Thanks to the man in the sexy, high heeled red boots for a lesson worth living!</span></span><br />
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-21687811252315369672014-07-12T14:51:00.001-07:002014-07-12T14:51:33.341-07:00Learner-Centered, Individualized Education?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAsBT3let42yqNU9ACfikgPiYkGNOXQw4ebww61SpiXZtc7QiEmcA0fTfhwwabj9DohSik-mPcK6DUoKDlKrqs_E9zNARx63XRyqCaxVOjHwqKyLLb5DQKPWL1fL0QYJ1a9uERwrQndaJ/s1600/SAM_0322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAsBT3let42yqNU9ACfikgPiYkGNOXQw4ebww61SpiXZtc7QiEmcA0fTfhwwabj9DohSik-mPcK6DUoKDlKrqs_E9zNARx63XRyqCaxVOjHwqKyLLb5DQKPWL1fL0QYJ1a9uERwrQndaJ/s1600/SAM_0322.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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What does learner-centered look like in a land of
conformity? There’s the benefit of
the school uniforms worn by public and private school students. Conformity and diversity are masked
beneath this similarity. One
glance in a school reveals uniformity.
The rich and poor, achieving and struggling don’t stand out by outer
adornment. Curriculum is
prescribed by national government in incremental modules doled out with
outlines and activities. Every
teacher in every district is paid the same according to a national pay scale
and promotion code. Teachers, like
teachers everywhere, stand at the front of the room, and pass out knowledge to
the hungry learners shifting in wooden desks as dragon’s breath wind cuts
through the open slated windows to move the humid air. And children learn…uniformly? But how is this sea of up to 60
students per classroom covering the days’ prescribed curriculum learner centered
as the nation’s department of ed envisions?</div>
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The hero of individualization in the Philippine private and
public school system doesn’t rely on uniforms or the department of ed to dole
out individualized instruction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The hero of individualized instruction is the same in the Philippines as
in every other land. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That hero is
the teacher and saw many champions of individualized instruction here.</div>
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First, there were the enthusiastic nuns and teachers of St.
Paul College in Manila.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
the wind beneath their students who were soaring confidently – building their
own extra-curricular activities, mapping out their own educational journey by
experimenting with electives and discovering a curricular track that led
towards the goals they set for their own lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their choices include art, music, performance, cooking,
science, math, language… so many choices, but more than that the joy in the
eyes of the teachers as they sat back and let the students fly demonstrates
their student centered nature.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioL4fKPHA1QxPv_U-r1F8Le8Qv9NJymrpXIBczxow7IkrxRH-dLo6wAPwHu0QoOUwLHr8I6h-K5QCaR59nSgOcj7rT3uQIfbiZhLgr3tp3ZJZW_MeK8vt77u73A9feVoimv2wMBtb9ryD2/s1600/Supreme.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioL4fKPHA1QxPv_U-r1F8Le8Qv9NJymrpXIBczxow7IkrxRH-dLo6wAPwHu0QoOUwLHr8I6h-K5QCaR59nSgOcj7rT3uQIfbiZhLgr3tp3ZJZW_MeK8vt77u73A9feVoimv2wMBtb9ryD2/s1600/Supreme.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Individualized heroes walked with tired eyes through public
vocational schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spoke up
for children as state regulations change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They worked to make the additional two years of high school meaningful
for all students – not just for those going on to college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They create evening programs and open
programs that allow students to provide for their families while continuing
their education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They gazed from
classrooms of 50+ students divided into interest and age tracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like us in the US they don’t have the
tools to individualize like they would like, but they have a vision. Interestingly they claim to have received that vision from us. Being colonized by Spain gave them religion and the US gave them education. We continue to partner with each other in building solid, meaningful, individualized learning opportunities!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2Rx3x1UZQoXP8pzTEaps7E9bLXDUPWM9DwujDM2Y4D4Zk1FZMHVyDv9DRyXa6K4iGk14JHoX5s7ZJxAu8PJUnNSTQceWkYFruYhkvdGbmOr6Q4fMnkvcPkN5RARaQIYmfNT0n6nCRwMg/s1600/Partnering.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2Rx3x1UZQoXP8pzTEaps7E9bLXDUPWM9DwujDM2Y4D4Zk1FZMHVyDv9DRyXa6K4iGk14JHoX5s7ZJxAu8PJUnNSTQceWkYFruYhkvdGbmOr6Q4fMnkvcPkN5RARaQIYmfNT0n6nCRwMg/s1600/Partnering.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-9864758891147135542014-07-07T07:02:00.001-07:002014-07-07T07:02:28.889-07:00Engagement – Authentic Learning – Ah the Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdwg4wDJ_48bjuRr5w_-_O2ylzevk6KZ0ZxTHZKxphaHOWo6qnOHbOj9znQz5pppGtFYEbyBbdFwvB-QzvRfNGpSA8a7g25-E-jt_TRCocgufGVHwWMb1AF3bopJg-iF0WAdJzYKejPuK/s1600/Through+Window.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdwg4wDJ_48bjuRr5w_-_O2ylzevk6KZ0ZxTHZKxphaHOWo6qnOHbOj9znQz5pppGtFYEbyBbdFwvB-QzvRfNGpSA8a7g25-E-jt_TRCocgufGVHwWMb1AF3bopJg-iF0WAdJzYKejPuK/s1600/Through+Window.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I learned the most about engaging students and gauging my
effectiveness as a teacher by evaluating what my students were doing from a
charismatic Korean administrator who oversaw video classes with native
teachers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was one of those
native teachers attempting to engage students as a talking head projected on a
screen in the front of a classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I couldn’t walk around the room or tap a child on the shoulder to get
his or her attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to
direct them from afar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dear
administrator would look over my lesson plans and sigh, “I see that you change
what you are doing every 15 minutes or so, but the students are always doing
the same thing.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
students were doing the same thing even though I was mixing up the lesson and
shifting from activity to activity?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How could that be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I
looked at the lesson from the child’s perspective and found that the
administrator was right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
successfully engage students from a screen in the front of the room, I needed
to make sure they changed what they were doing throughout the class.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6h9Ix8XnjLnYDgynDT2fJI_kaPSgzNaiQaXd7p7uriZWIyOHsk5hjPGCfBnWApv7_akQPDARI_Fv5ixG_NekRWrSUfB9SjWu7d4XyFR1mkmSqbsw74GIesrsQqhaXIYmbVGTyvfDIRBrS/s1600/Engaging+Students+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6h9Ix8XnjLnYDgynDT2fJI_kaPSgzNaiQaXd7p7uriZWIyOHsk5hjPGCfBnWApv7_akQPDARI_Fv5ixG_NekRWrSUfB9SjWu7d4XyFR1mkmSqbsw74GIesrsQqhaXIYmbVGTyvfDIRBrS/s1600/Engaging+Students+Collage.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Schools here in Bacolod and Manila struggle with the same
issues I struggle with in class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are all pressed by content demands to deliver information to students
and weighted with the responsibility of ensuring that they can regurgitate that
information on tests and refer back to it in next year’s courses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some Filipino classes are massive – up
to 60 students - but most that I have observed are manageable – around 30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teachers here incorporate the same
methods we attempt at home:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>group
work, callbacks, pair shares, projects, experiments, videos, and Power Points.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like my classes, at times the teacher
is the center – talking – pulling answers out of a few exemplar students while
hastily moving forward subconsciously aware that many in the room were not
following along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only a few
students analyze the carefully prepared handouts while the rest file them in
their folders and rely on what was discussed in class to pull them through the
test.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2WbcEIBm-uoYIR-GqhoaWUFuvzjv4_J3VaKvl5J3wqODY0l67OzjZzna0J4QI08I2O_7ib4QX7I_8wRoFq6fMauwiDI8w1meXsLSRSO0WC1aowI6vr038bg55ZFErX1Ytcfq0ey0Uyw9t/s1600/Delivering+Info+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2WbcEIBm-uoYIR-GqhoaWUFuvzjv4_J3VaKvl5J3wqODY0l67OzjZzna0J4QI08I2O_7ib4QX7I_8wRoFq6fMauwiDI8w1meXsLSRSO0WC1aowI6vr038bg55ZFErX1Ytcfq0ey0Uyw9t/s1600/Delivering+Info+collage.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I wonder as I glance over rows of students who have better
auditory skills than mine but seem to lack an ability to glean information from
written texts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if they
question the authenticity of their education the way my students question
theirs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our host shares stories of
nursing students graduating at the top of their class but finding higher paying
jobs in call centers than in medical centers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They dust off their English and answer questions about
American credit cards instead of caring for patients.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We impose this rigid academic curriculum on our students and
then share that academia with the world with the hope that somehow the world
will become a better place because of the content and quality of life will
improve and jobs will open up before well-prepared workers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, I find the American education
system to be lacking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
businesses train their own employees and graduates leave college and go back
home to live with their parents because of student loan debt and a glut in the
job market. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-ON39I1x0PlOMpcFzmqoKaVu2ogKkdPDKFseEr3QD5tomRmE9gF5O4qxeCTvYnQMuZjfIkq8IYNsjwL5f-ykXl0JzGSunVvJF1skpCGU0o00QmAkmGjyHwNsgsyiz6rJ_MKNL4A9XK4e/s1600/careers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-ON39I1x0PlOMpcFzmqoKaVu2ogKkdPDKFseEr3QD5tomRmE9gF5O4qxeCTvYnQMuZjfIkq8IYNsjwL5f-ykXl0JzGSunVvJF1skpCGU0o00QmAkmGjyHwNsgsyiz6rJ_MKNL4A9XK4e/s1600/careers.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I visited with a
communications instructor at a local university in Bacolod. She trains her students for the call
center – teaching interviewing and phone answering skills. She worked in a call center until she
had children and couldn’t manage the hours. She saved money while working there and then pursued her
profession, teaching, when she could afford the lower salary. Education brings prestige; they are
“diploma conscience” as they say, but it does not always bring a higher quality
life. I find myself questioning
the purpose of education. It is an
expensive way to build character if the degrees don’t pay off in employable
skills. Both of our systems seem
to </span><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">wrestle with these issues. Both wrestle to care for the children and the community with a sincere hope for a better future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8t71UtnLq_tpsrscQEwDGvmoRsvCMiq0M7cFUW7WcXAMgmE-0nXlEHlLqgKfFDgnZnsybHUKJq0XrSm8qVvffGGQwIQcgl0CU0vB3snL79VApqL87CjAJ76zLYcpJDlrTLvZgJk9w6VG/s1600/SAM_1003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8t71UtnLq_tpsrscQEwDGvmoRsvCMiq0M7cFUW7WcXAMgmE-0nXlEHlLqgKfFDgnZnsybHUKJq0XrSm8qVvffGGQwIQcgl0CU0vB3snL79VApqL87CjAJ76zLYcpJDlrTLvZgJk9w6VG/s1600/SAM_1003.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-58699785352123918102014-07-06T15:47:00.000-07:002014-07-06T15:47:28.799-07:00Rural Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcyg_fWkgCaCvywu8YtCvPw7G0QrDz9UcS3Np-b2IHnfXgaUWo4nOQ6A35sRpVbjtN8S-gLXLcaS-bB4ktEK2nCUfEU_joSjdxk8xSBUG1wo-Ofh_8oqpcU4Fo4udI2xQWvMVSFWQJpSG2/s1600/pool+beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcyg_fWkgCaCvywu8YtCvPw7G0QrDz9UcS3Np-b2IHnfXgaUWo4nOQ6A35sRpVbjtN8S-gLXLcaS-bB4ktEK2nCUfEU_joSjdxk8xSBUG1wo-Ofh_8oqpcU4Fo4udI2xQWvMVSFWQJpSG2/s1600/pool+beach.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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It’s Sunday in Sipalay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ocean teases us with calm waves while the clouded sky
heavy with rain taunt from above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The day’s boating will again be canceled – no viewing of the ocean
through a glass bottom boat, no jumping into the sea to snorkel and find exotic
fish, no island hopping today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Today it is going to rain and by rain I mean pour buckets of drenching
water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even after the rain, the
air remains heavy with moisture and the saturated soil gives up puddle after
puddle of gooey mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the rain
lessens, people emerge draped in plastic, under colorful umbrellas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Workers emerge in the rice field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children dribble balls and chase each
other across the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cows
lazily lift their chained heads on the side of the road slowly munching away at
the layers of grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimP4hj3Z6IvS1crQk8W8ZAjzulf-LkdnATfF4EOYcGTykDd7dOjcO29ucJJgStCvax5Iy_LXS5_PkA_KpCiNtwMigTR93raMdOLl-P43Xk7E-ObeOlbNE-BhbckzbAXAdmKMI3p2JPkb5C/s1600/Town+by+Resort+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimP4hj3Z6IvS1crQk8W8ZAjzulf-LkdnATfF4EOYcGTykDd7dOjcO29ucJJgStCvax5Iy_LXS5_PkA_KpCiNtwMigTR93raMdOLl-P43Xk7E-ObeOlbNE-BhbckzbAXAdmKMI3p2JPkb5C/s1600/Town+by+Resort+collage.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rural landscapes invited a slowing down in every
culture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The same is true
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sheltered in the only
locally owned resort in the little beach town, we are surrounded by bamboo huts
and small concrete houses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fishermen
wait at their boats for the rain to relent and give up the sea so they can make
their meager living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Barefoot
children skirt the resort, riding bikes, doing flips, playing on boogie boards
and searching the beach for treasures.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-KoQXRKfkBnrHPGp-z0_kB-wOhFZXUgRsQ7iPcFw5G-eUyQIwzZ6qv8D73ukvOroyglqP8dyp5jD_YPJZDtW7c3AHlzUuEisMKzjv8LZ4Pde_8nMojAQJL_9VAQFAaFzuIdq_w1egv66/s1600/pie+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-KoQXRKfkBnrHPGp-z0_kB-wOhFZXUgRsQ7iPcFw5G-eUyQIwzZ6qv8D73ukvOroyglqP8dyp5jD_YPJZDtW7c3AHlzUuEisMKzjv8LZ4Pde_8nMojAQJL_9VAQFAaFzuIdq_w1egv66/s1600/pie+collage.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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It’s a four-hour drive through small villages, rice fields, and orchards of coconut trees from Bacolod City to Sipalay. Although we have seen Europeans and Americans in Bacolod, we don’t see other Caucasians on this leg of our journey and significantly draw attention to ourselves when we stop at the small Jollibees (their version of MacDonalds) to snack on a mango peach pie and pineapple juice. I can’t resist the child selling round, flat candies covered in peanuts outside the door. I use both hands to break a piece of the 4inch circle of sugar and smile at the familiar taste of peanut brittle. The island is the sugar island of the Philippines where row after row of sugar cane wave at the tropical sky and the people here demonstrate well that they know exactly what to do with sugar! Amazing pastry and cake shops line the cities and my waistline. A little farther down the road, we stop for a coconut cake that we cut into hot and watch the gooey cream seep from its pastry confinement. Somehow we find a way to eat this with only one fork, a spoon and box lid between us. I chase the sweet gooey pie with a half cup of strong black coffee and relax back into my Sunday afternoon drive.</div>
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The drive soothes me like a nursery rhyme as we speed past
slightly terraced rice fields guarded by bamboo huts built on gentle hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The winding road crests at times
revealing an unexpected view of the beach on the left and rounded mountains
draped with heavy clouds to the right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then we dip onto a straightaway and a small community emerges, lining
the street with small storefront Sari-Sari stores and a caravan of tricycles
pedaling relentlessly through the rain down narrow roads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teens dribble basketballs and make jump
shots as we weave in and out of small tribes of people, tricycles, and stray
dogs.</div>
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As quickly as it arose, the small town disappears into the
foliage and drops of rain continue to pound the already soaked land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Short strips of construction interrupt our fearless pace through the countryside. Our host remarks, "It is an election year. The politicians are widening the roads."</span></div>
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Farmers emerge knee deep in rice fields,
draped in plastic armor against the dampening rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A thin man in long shorts and a red t-shirt lifts feet heavy
with mud as he sloshes across a muddy rice field carrying obviously heavy pails
in each hand.</div>
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It’s Sunday and this was my Sunday drive.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-53741474244821998912014-07-06T06:07:00.000-07:002014-07-06T06:17:24.283-07:00Prescribed – Integrated – Creative<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #101010; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 40px;"> "Beauty emerges from selection, affinities, integration, love."</span></div>
<div class="bq_fq_a" style="color: #101010; font-family: Arial; line-height: 40px; margin-bottom: 5px;">
Louis Kahn</div>
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Americans are champions of local control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Filipinos are champions of practicing
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have mourned with fellow
teachers from Korea and China over the burden of their national curriculum,
over their inability to sway from the textbook or step off pace from the
directives of their national office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Philippines also have a national curriculum, but like their sense of
privacy allows them to flow in and out of touch with each other without
sacrificing a deeply integrated relationship, their state directive allows them
to ebb and flow in and out of sync with the document as they operate
independently yet stay in sync with each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The curriculum is loose and built of modules as opposed to
chapters from a text.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is also
affectionate, loving, coming from national leaders who care deeply for the
future of their children who also understand the incredible diversity
represented in these islands and the needs of the communities that they
serve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The modules for each grade
level come with prescribed content and teaching activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But every class is not the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teachers adapt the modules integrating
values education and critical thinking opportunities to create a meaningful
local experience of the nationalized curriculum.</div>
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Crowded schools dictate that students stay in one class and
teachers move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teachers work from
departmental faculty rooms where desks line the walls and middle of the
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each room has a small eating
area where teachers share lunch and interact daily – lunch duties being left to
the janitors and security personnel– so teachers can refresh and interact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a teacher is absent, their classes
are left teacherless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Students sit
quietly at their desk completing homework assignments or visiting quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time in classes is divided throughout
the week, so they don’t necessarily meet for an hour every day, but rather
English is 200 minutes a week and divided throughout the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Electives meet less than core
courses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teachers have two prep
periods a day and are paid according to their teaching loads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The standard load is 24 units a week
which is about 24 hours of classroom time a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you teach more than 24 units, you are compensated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe it is standard everywhere
that teachers work beyond their contract hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our host is the Vice Principal of her school and she often
stays at school until 6 or even 8 in the evening even though the kids generally
go home by 4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaMl1wDXCAof2rRQKv7ls8ERw6JF_oWhHy-uNXJTgTllNE2EUS8z8ewsig8R9W2SXfz1uFzUSXAKvd_M5eo3xGam_huo8Kleqecir1lcHYPumxIwuP3Apb_bjRM1IAq94b385o5oWRwV3/s1600/elementary.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaMl1wDXCAof2rRQKv7ls8ERw6JF_oWhHy-uNXJTgTllNE2EUS8z8ewsig8R9W2SXfz1uFzUSXAKvd_M5eo3xGam_huo8Kleqecir1lcHYPumxIwuP3Apb_bjRM1IAq94b385o5oWRwV3/s1600/elementary.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Private schools are integrated, meaning that they have
preschool, kindergarten, elementary, jr high school and sr high school and
college in one school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
especially valuable for vertical alignment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Students that begin school in the same private school,
maintain good grades and are able to afford the private school throughout are
blessed with a very cohesive education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Teachers address the new school year with confidence that their students
have common educational experiences from the year before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interactions between the different
grade levels are positive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
college is slightly gated off from the elementary & secondary school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has its own cantina and library and wifi
access.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The elementary and secondary
classes are held on separate floors with the youngest being near the bottom and
the oldest on the top floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
share a library, viewing room, computer lab, cantina and the like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All levels take turns playing sports in
the center of the complex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their
gym and theater were destroyed in a fire last year, so all activities take
place outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The older and
younger students do not seem to interact either negatively or positively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They pass each other comfortably and go
about their business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During
the assembly older students move towards the elementary classrooms to help the
younger students with songs.</div>
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Another aspect of the integration is the entwining of rich
and poor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uniforms effectively
mask social classes for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
cannot tell if a student is rich or poor except a few wealthy students wearing
name brand sweatshirts and the like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For the most part they look equally intelligent and blessed in their
plaid skirts, pressed slacks and white dress shirts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I learn that the “working students” (TAs) work in
exchange for the cost of their tuition and that high performing students
receive full scholarships as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>San Agustin is especially generous with scholarships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our host often commented, “She is poor
but very smart so we work it out so she can come here.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems that if you are very smart and
know how to work the private school system, you can obtain a quality private
education.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGjD5kEWc80FkoGmQTFbGqP9Bn3QLMXEU2N6D1ljtuHGm-da2jTBzSKGcCn7WqILnf0GAwt90ixxHnlzNEZ9JV0YvP3sBVKyqxK6Ud0zh0lsnjetg53HxtKHeuTN9Mzi8OYKpiXh1ECj9/s1600/SAM_0996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGjD5kEWc80FkoGmQTFbGqP9Bn3QLMXEU2N6D1ljtuHGm-da2jTBzSKGcCn7WqILnf0GAwt90ixxHnlzNEZ9JV0YvP3sBVKyqxK6Ud0zh0lsnjetg53HxtKHeuTN9Mzi8OYKpiXh1ECj9/s1600/SAM_0996.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Public schools are not integrated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have separate elementary and high schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the whole nation is moving to a k-12
system at this time, they will create jr. and sr. high schools soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Public schools benefit from all schools
following the national curriculum but excessively large classes (up to 60 on
this island!) and limited resources also limit the teachers’ opportunities to
teach creatively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Public schools
generally cover basic, core content subjects. One large public school in
Bacolod offers technology electives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most schools do offer special science classes for “A” students to fuel
the nation’s desire to be competitive internationally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have a special science high school
like the Makati Science School that we visited in Manila. The island does not
taut specialized vocational schools like we saw in Manila.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the push for high school diplomas
and completing university courses, the area experiences a similar situation as
we experience in the states.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
example, they graduate many nurses, but nurses are not paid well and there
aren’t as many jobs available as they have graduates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So nursing graduates are able to make a better living
working in call centers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Interestingly, there are no programs at the high school or university
level to train workers for the call center even though it is one of the primary
employers for the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is believed
that the k-12 system will better facilitate vocational training and integrate
both academics and vocational training within the schools so as to provide much
needed skilled labor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>San Agustin
will offer courses to prepare students to pass the national skills assessments,
so they can leave high school with a certificate to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not surprising that since we gave
our educational system to the Filipinos that they struggle with similar issues
as us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The push for academic
oriented careers has saturated their system almost as surely as it has
saturated ours and left a deficit of technical workers so the demand for skilled
labor is high here just like it is high in the US. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuA8w5MaHkjBrilQq6wWbpvPkwZhtqrvoZs8ePlq57k_EBjtRS9U_fPWe1jMaqwkNN439aSn3I8MNjKKG5b-1jMakbC8aL83tBjtf6_SU_YkWFrGo7JG7icAoi8yZ7UzHkMvcZuCdvv1K/s1600/Big+Kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuA8w5MaHkjBrilQq6wWbpvPkwZhtqrvoZs8ePlq57k_EBjtRS9U_fPWe1jMaqwkNN439aSn3I8MNjKKG5b-1jMakbC8aL83tBjtf6_SU_YkWFrGo7JG7icAoi8yZ7UzHkMvcZuCdvv1K/s1600/Big+Kids.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So all of us in the field of education move forward addressing similar problems. Integrating students, curriculum, methodology and even teachers can help all of us solve the issues that plague education today in every nation.<span style="color: #eeeeee;"> As LBJ once said, "<span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 40px;">There are no problems we cannot solve together, and very few that we can solve by ourselves." Together is a concept we can learn from the Filipino.</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-84762227833948748032014-07-01T06:52:00.001-07:002014-07-01T07:06:16.393-07:00Reading Yourself...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sunday June 29</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEXpkfOiRE2hag2C8PQIZ7jW5Ku6sNMRtRCEYEMh6yeJ_1-mB8PITj55OsFsiL-nBVK_Ks2wnvh9msagssxq2BgDMksdAxuo-LqLNWjYB_O-5PDI_SnM_3swmq2OD0vsdeRDOzcrFq_6Y/s1600/hot-spring-dipping-pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEXpkfOiRE2hag2C8PQIZ7jW5Ku6sNMRtRCEYEMh6yeJ_1-mB8PITj55OsFsiL-nBVK_Ks2wnvh9msagssxq2BgDMksdAxuo-LqLNWjYB_O-5PDI_SnM_3swmq2OD0vsdeRDOzcrFq_6Y/s1600/hot-spring-dipping-pool.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
They call it the dipping pool. After a $9.00 sixty-minute Japanese foot massage (that included my legs, arms, and head?), I found myself nearly alone in this pool. Breathing the familiar sulfur of home. Feeling the healing caress of warm mineral water. Melting into the pool. Laying my head back and feeling giant droplets of warm rain on my face. Mountain rain in Bacolod is different than mountain rain at home. It is warm and inviting and drenching. Interestingly this exotic resort is not overflowing with the rich. Ordinary folks are there. Massage is affordable for most. Our host tells me that most Filipinos indulge in regular manicures and pedicures.<br />
<br />
Filipinos are happy, hospitable, caring people. They seem mentally well. A sign at a museum explained how their concept of privacy was expressed in architecture with sliding doors on both ends of rooms allowing for a division of space but an openness that allowed the flow of air, sound, and people. They are a part of each other and yet decidedly themselves. You are never really alone here. You also have to search to find a clock. They are not driven by time but flow event to event looking at each other, greeting each other, touching each other, eating (yes - constantly offering hospitality). <br />
<br />
The American in me grows edgy feeling shackled to partners and hosts and schedules. My co-fellows and I gasp for independent breath at times, but not this weekend. This weekend we indulged in a much needed rested and enjoyed the Filipino self-care system. The pace offered peace and space for reflection more on me than on my journey. I have been folded in upon myself these past 8 months. I began to unfold the day I got out of the truck and began walking with the dogs instead of watching them walk and this weekend beneath the hands of a sweet young lady masseuse named Johnnie. My body actually aches with the unfolding - especially my feet, so my resignation at the waterfall was disappointing but honest, so I retreated to the spa to watch my colleagues climb and Johnnie rubbed my feet. Then I worked my way to the lovely dipping pool that was abandoned and empty in the rain. I melted and unfolded feeling both at home and so far away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTmjDtNT8ye_s7fPl4xksOT9JLYXOwHwP-33Jo7YVrPCHV2F58wk0XwH-FFNnsepM8mVx2hm_nVNtIKePmgiln6CJDz433tsJOH1mCzZjbWKl18xNiLgi9YfPcG5lahN8OFRtgnYa4Lwp/s1600/Mambucal+Resort.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTmjDtNT8ye_s7fPl4xksOT9JLYXOwHwP-33Jo7YVrPCHV2F58wk0XwH-FFNnsepM8mVx2hm_nVNtIKePmgiln6CJDz433tsJOH1mCzZjbWKl18xNiLgi9YfPcG5lahN8OFRtgnYa4Lwp/s1600/Mambucal+Resort.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am reminded that we are people first and then teachers. Teaching is hard work! If we fold into ourselves under the stress, we lose effectiveness. Self-care matters. I sense a universal melting as I rest in the hot springs - melting of inequalities and hopelessness. And after the melting, all that is left is our mutual dreams. Grieving and hoping are universal.</div>
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And we also went to what I call "Disneyland" - zip lines, climbable statues of super heros, stars, and animated characters. A kid for that day!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaAwXsX87TV2-GZwQqn8FK5RSwPGxRr1kmjyXLsgytmY4DizsRSG58FYpeBDLPSOlXa1wF9UqXkwQddI0N_2LToFeW7FVa8lBh4ySYWJFJivIntNfBZAdL0G8wlRLxK-4mQODxYfSorvJ/s1600/Campuesthan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaAwXsX87TV2-GZwQqn8FK5RSwPGxRr1kmjyXLsgytmY4DizsRSG58FYpeBDLPSOlXa1wF9UqXkwQddI0N_2LToFeW7FVa8lBh4ySYWJFJivIntNfBZAdL0G8wlRLxK-4mQODxYfSorvJ/s1600/Campuesthan.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-26178071094842451672014-06-28T14:32:00.001-07:002014-06-28T14:49:20.924-07:00The Literacy of Listening in Manila<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">An Ear Towards Students<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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A national curriculum with national teaching modules for
every unit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The same pay scale for
every teacher for every school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
sounds so restrictive so canned so unresponsive, and yet, schools in Manila
were anything but unresponsive to their communities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The private school was outside of most state mandates, so it
was not surprising to find a creative system there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was surprising was the power of the student in the
private Catholic school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
imagined the priests, administrators, nuns and teachers as having the power in
a religious school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagined
strict discipline and frowns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
imagined wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>St. Paul College
was anything but restrictive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
plaque on the back of every seat in the auditorium read: </div>
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Student leaders were in charge of work like taking
attendance, setting up tutoring for students, planning field trips, and gathering
make-up work in each class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The student
leaders were elected in each classroom and worked with the teacher to manage
the class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The student council was
called the “Supreme Student Government” and they had real power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Students and administrators worked
together to create a gifts program built off student interests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They higher community specialists to
head up the gifts programs:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>artists, engineers, Olympic level coaches,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Students shared their program with student leaders in other schools and
helped them create similar programs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The students felt and acted quite empowered at this beautiful
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We visited regular
classrooms and lab classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
visited classes where the teacher was absent but the students sat at their
desks and completed seat-work without prompting!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This school maximized resources and had the only semi modern computer lab of the three - with a Mac Lab for design and music composition. </span>Listening to students was an art at this heartwarming
school and students responded with passionate engagement and respect.</div>
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<b>Turning Towards the Community </b>(My Favorite School Visit so Far)</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.359999656677246px;"><br /></span></span>We visited a poor and rich public school in Manila yesterday. What beautiful children and hopeful teachers! The poor school has a 99% proficiency on national tests. I"m going to say that again - 99% proficiency AND a 1% dropout rate. Yep, I typed that right - 1%. More than amazing, they are inspiring. There is no other way to say it than to say that the teachers are TIRED! but doing so much with so little. Such creative hands-on lessons with so few resources. I watched students deeply engaged in a physics lab using only tiny mirrors and copy paper protractors (not even on card stock!) and students engrossed in literature lessons reading the novels chapter by chapter from HAND WRITTEN chapters on poster sized paper taped to the walls. See my Facebook page to hear this beautiful children sing! </div>
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I was most impressed with their response to the community. The Philippines are in the midst of adding two years of high school to their entire system across the board. I can't imagine telling my at-risk students that we have changed the school system and they will not graduate this year but have two more years to attend! I can only imagine the desperation and defeat in their eyes if I gave them that news. This school petitioned the government and is able to give their students real vocational certifications after grade 10 so they can leave the school and get a job. Then they added an open high school program where students can attend classes at various times of the day/night while working to move towards their actual degree, but they do not have to. The other way they respond to the community is by the actual electives that they offer. The skills prepare students to enhance local industry immediately. The businesses don't have to train students for their jobs. The students are prepared to work in actual industries that exist. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqUAVnRVHUEWU_6ez5-nRCQ5M1NaBoHkQXkbVMTsQhu60YbDv7FbC596SNSAtVVSbZb19Dnmsj78y3IwmhJtU6FpyGkCsalWThtNzlihI858SNeS27I8cov0lyOxKerBX6_zOKx7Jfn53/s1600/vocational+electives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqUAVnRVHUEWU_6ez5-nRCQ5M1NaBoHkQXkbVMTsQhu60YbDv7FbC596SNSAtVVSbZb19Dnmsj78y3IwmhJtU6FpyGkCsalWThtNzlihI858SNeS27I8cov0lyOxKerBX6_zOKx7Jfn53/s1600/vocational+electives.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.359999656677246px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">They offered garment making and housekeeping, appliance repair and cooking for resorts along with a dozen other practical work based programs. These students took some rigorous core classes two or three times a week but studied their vocation every day! By the end of the 10th grade year they could take a national skills assessment in their direct field and be certified to work a "real" job. The electives were so central to the community needs around them. I think of all the entry level jobs in the industries around my high school and see several opportunities to train students past that entry level position, so they could leave high school with skills that our local businesses actually need. It would save the industry money as well as be beneficial to students to work this direction.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.359999656677246px;"><b>Hearing the Future</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo4Mvf96n6umwZ2W87FejHGHcpWEsQvEtnaYISF1s4c1l8IqPh0ub2XBAI_KVWPowjSZYlY_0YWx7IYCPbZY9DAm9285sqSPTyiKbAswRYfD7MCUz5R9KFg_kgk93yHqP_P1oQiVay6_fz/s1600/SAM+Super.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo4Mvf96n6umwZ2W87FejHGHcpWEsQvEtnaYISF1s4c1l8IqPh0ub2XBAI_KVWPowjSZYlY_0YWx7IYCPbZY9DAm9285sqSPTyiKbAswRYfD7MCUz5R9KFg_kgk93yHqP_P1oQiVay6_fz/s1600/SAM+Super.JPG" height="320" width="289" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTG65EtzwhQ9XfbDr3y2fPeglvHEGiEqUKZanJHHGr9RGgkVyJcJ2YdI63eFPCbU-Cg7e3NvvsusNAe9wZzlNIQZqYP9Axp83OjkQDRVEbIKepZzku7atPHYmUNA-e14wR0r6-x5IzVKmv/s1600/SAM+Hope.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTG65EtzwhQ9XfbDr3y2fPeglvHEGiEqUKZanJHHGr9RGgkVyJcJ2YdI63eFPCbU-Cg7e3NvvsusNAe9wZzlNIQZqYP9Axp83OjkQDRVEbIKepZzku7atPHYmUNA-e14wR0r6-x5IzVKmv/s1600/SAM+Hope.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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"We can find good teachers. Dear students, be our scientists and engineers. The nation needs you to be scientists," urged the beautiful young superintendent when one of my US colleagues asked the students at this public science high school why none of them wanted to be teachers. When you saunter through a state of the art brand new high rise high school with 8 or more floors and hallways that resemble huge balconies guided by articulate adult-like teenagers, it's hard to believe that you are in a developing nation. Looking out the windows instead of off the balconies, you remember that you are. </div>
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In the midst of this kind hearted, rigorously alive and loving community is the acute awareness that most of these people live every day with scarcity - food scarcity, health scarcity, safety scarcity, water scarcity. Yet the nation is not imprisoned by poverty but rather emerging from it like a caterpillar resting in a cocoon eminently aware of it's changes - the beautiful wings and velvety body that had replaced the slick skin yet not quite breaking free of the humble wrappings that ensnare it. A colleague and I addressed a room full of 8th grade students. Their teacher was still in the lounge. They were waiting for class to begin. I introduced myself enthusiastically as a history teacher. They audibly groaned. David introduced himself as a math teacher and they literally pumped their arms enthusiastically and couldn't control their "Yes!" We were taking aback. David turned on his video. "If you don't mind, could you please do that again? I 'm going to introduce myself and you respond the same you just responded?" and they did.</div>
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This school has remarkably more resources than it's counterpart vocational school. The building, a stipend for students who attend, smaller class sizes, but, as our host Alex stated over and over, our greatest resource is our students. They have the luxury of having students apply and being able to send students away who do not perform at the 85% level. (He noted this was good for the students as well because if they leave the school and go to another, they will be the valedictorian there. Yet, it still does not have the resources of our poorest school. The drafting class does not have drafting tables to think CAD programs. Emasculate just constructed book shelves wait in a tiny library to be filled - just like this nation waits for her children to accomplish both her and their dreams. Put your ear to the ground, you will hear them coming. Observe the cocoon; it is moving; a wing is breaking free. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-24918420785411204652014-06-25T09:01:00.001-07:002014-06-25T09:11:15.459-07:00Imperialism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7MWs-alIy5ZWDS0QoYq4SzM-bxxqXB6kW8oXepI4-6oymR_16c6shMNuRSxbWMZfd9PNxTEV-MseRjW5UfHG0imP0_FEAh1mz9xnhhbfLohpAi0h-mes6AgUJRaOPUxU4zdXN2kCNLt2/s1600/Manila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7MWs-alIy5ZWDS0QoYq4SzM-bxxqXB6kW8oXepI4-6oymR_16c6shMNuRSxbWMZfd9PNxTEV-MseRjW5UfHG0imP0_FEAh1mz9xnhhbfLohpAi0h-mes6AgUJRaOPUxU4zdXN2kCNLt2/s1600/Manila.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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"The Spanish gift to us is religion, and the American gift is education," explained our guide and teacher today as we sat in the luxurious conference room sampling sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves and dragon fruit. Not all colonizing is equal. The Spanish colonized the Philippines to benefit the Spanish yet, according to our Filipino instructors, the Americans colonized to benefit the Filipinos. The Spanish did not educate the Filipinos. They didn't organize the nation. They didn't teach the Filipino Spanish or offer any benefits to help the Filipino climb the economic ladder. They feared that education would strengthen the Filipinos causing them to unify and eventually rise up to defeat the colonizers. It proved to be true. When the Americans won the Philippines in the Spanish American War, they sent in teachers (called Thomasites after the ship they arrived on). An educated Philippines has risen up to demand freedom and democracy.</div>
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Our first day in the Philippines felt like two or even three. Of course their is the jet lag parasite draining energy from our beings, yet we stuck it out and completed a full day. I was greeted by not quite forgotten tastes and scents - savoring my favorite Filipino food (Pancit Canton), sticky rice, fresh mangos and pineapple. In the morning to ILEP alums taught us Filipino history. The diversity struck me even deeper as I looked the political history of this nation. I was so impressed by their trek towards democracy - rising to a freedom level of 3 (1 is best and 7 worst - http://www.freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world/2013/philippines#.U6r0c41dXew) and fighting corruption (what they call plunder) in their legislature and other government offices. The battle for the South and negotiations with Islamist insurgents reminded me that again this area that is threatened by Al Qaeda influence does not want Sharia Law or any of the Al Qaeda goals. They wanted to be treated fairly and to have access to the education and healthcare that the majority enjoy. They are exhausted from oppression and prejudice. When an earthquake shook the ancient building where we ate dinner and watched a cultural show, I became acutely aware of the fact that these stone megaliths had withstood more than 4 centuries of earthquakes, typhoons, and hurricanes. The Spanish and Mexican imprint on the evening was greater than the buildings though; they echoes in the music, dance and food - again I had the best flan ever from a Filipino kitchen. </div>
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So many stories. So many imprints. So much immigration. I am anxious to increase my knowledge of these stories so I can piece together a more complete picture of this diverse people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7FiYsXr_RtXXwJXDfCGlB_d5GDR0jFsedXOyAIm7m2ytR9oQ2-E-3Dqp3A-mfYB2Dmvm9MJQEQK4zuza7d8xIYLZIVIsgWZN4xyJ9TYsAu27lfqljAgzYrnJXtLz4GKqbtCIwfr6SqTV/s1600/Dance+Show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7FiYsXr_RtXXwJXDfCGlB_d5GDR0jFsedXOyAIm7m2ytR9oQ2-E-3Dqp3A-mfYB2Dmvm9MJQEQK4zuza7d8xIYLZIVIsgWZN4xyJ9TYsAu27lfqljAgzYrnJXtLz4GKqbtCIwfr6SqTV/s1600/Dance+Show.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-20215632175175501062014-06-21T09:44:00.001-07:002014-06-21T09:49:42.395-07:00Quest for a Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiPbQDWaWku09AoSYdzCAziAd3FdD1Uo49lah2K2jpOP50xJM3Szv97Pu5cCQf9mEyWoDx6kDSv0xPdHZHSP79KeBnDuGMDOyLK-5-UEdUVTLvqyvFs5Oa8WOyfoI2jvM6TYyBIpzFgbn/s1600/Philippine_Tourist_Spots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiPbQDWaWku09AoSYdzCAziAd3FdD1Uo49lah2K2jpOP50xJM3Szv97Pu5cCQf9mEyWoDx6kDSv0xPdHZHSP79KeBnDuGMDOyLK-5-UEdUVTLvqyvFs5Oa8WOyfoI2jvM6TYyBIpzFgbn/s1600/Philippine_Tourist_Spots.jpg" height="313" width="320" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a
change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam
Beard. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the
mind.” – Seneca.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">“One’s destination is never a
place, but a new way of seeing things.”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"> - Henry Miller</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">These quotes tossed me into the mix of educators seeking an opportunity to travel with Teachers for Global Classrooms to other nations, other schools, other cultures to become better equipped to prepare their students to join the journey towards global competence. I embark tomorrow. So much has occurred between the day that I used those quotes to explain my desire to go on this journey. I actually could never have imagined the year's experiences that would flood my life with change: real, deep, permanent, nothing-will-ever -be-the-same change. Yet, here I am. Soft, moldable, in transit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Yes - I am in transit to the Philippines - to sunshine, rainforests, beaches, the city of smiles. Look at this beautiful 5 star hotel that will welcome us to Manilla where we will meet with embassy officials, Philippine education officials, and teachers who have begun the journey to global competence through their own teacher exchange in the US:</span></div>
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Then I will travel to the "City of Smiles" - Bacolod City - for almost two weeks of immersion in their school system and cultural experiences.</div>
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I will work with a very friendly and hard working teacher named Donah at the Colegio San Agustin</div>
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http://www.csab.edu.ph/beta/</div>
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We will travel to the interior a bit to experience a hot springs and mountain resort one weekend and enjoy a beautiful white beach the next weekend: </div>
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http://mambukal.negros-occ.gov.ph/</div>
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http://www.sipalay.com/</div>
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The Philippines is a perfect place to investigate my essential question for this trip: How do our unique stories reflect and shape culture? I am especially interested in stories that appear to have been lost or are threatened to extinction by the encroachment of the modern world or the popular world or the politically correct world. Whose stories are vital to the depth of the world culture? Whose unique voice must be preserved or reawakened for the depth of humanity to be represented in the global culture that is gradually engulfing every nook and cranny, crowded city, and isolated thorofare? How can we preserve stories and not let the powerful overtake the weak? How can we preserve diversity?</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px;">Dag Hammarskjold, the second Secretary General of the UN once said, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px;">"The longest journey is the journey inwards." Of all the quotes that led me into this journey, this is the one that urges me through it. I have a story. It is as diverse as the family that nurtured me, places I've traveled, friends I cherish, choices I've survived, and treasures I have both found and lost. My journey across the ocean will drive me closer to myself in that all important journey inward....</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-18705499682427025322014-05-25T05:46:00.003-07:002014-05-25T05:46:43.934-07:00Reading My Spaces<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Is literacy just about reading and writing - pen and ink - words and, well, words? What does it mean to be literate? I stepped in the daunting doctoral direction this week. My first stop is a discipline based literacy course that began with an analysis of the texts that we manage in different spaces. Looking at my life from that perspective, my concept of literacy has grown. Is a text only written? Can it be a picture? an expression? a backroad? an antelope? a sigh? What does it mean to be literate? The simple definition of literacy is the ability to read and write, yet somehow that definition crosses into another definiton that somehow encompasses and fully expresses the first definition: competence or knowledge in a specific area. We must be fully literate in the spaces we occupy to be successful. The world is a space we occupy, a space where we compose texts and read or ignore texts. I did discover I ignore the texts of broken faucets and toilet seats in the space I occupy most. Others respond efficiently to those texts. I step over them, adjust them so I can use the sink and toilet awkwardly but get the job done. What texts do we ignore, can we ignore and still be successful and literate in the spaces we inhabit? Am I willing to confront the fact that I do not just inhabit my hometown but inhabit the world? Am I willing to conquer global literacy or will I adjust the seat or put a cup under the leaking faucet to manage the global texts I face each day?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-2034640292666094292014-03-18T20:45:00.001-07:002014-03-19T18:56:20.269-07:00The Essential Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKpDIhhJc84WY1k9-5aZQkjIH9kWaty4-_P11YUFMvnhyCyUcxde6kM9MUaT5XnyngqUReVkNbOWS5CPzFUY2UNo2aYM8yTShg0R8264Fb0l7QGiHkfyvd-pcmBNoC8qHlRDloygLa_ll/s1600/Story+Telling.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKpDIhhJc84WY1k9-5aZQkjIH9kWaty4-_P11YUFMvnhyCyUcxde6kM9MUaT5XnyngqUReVkNbOWS5CPzFUY2UNo2aYM8yTShg0R8264Fb0l7QGiHkfyvd-pcmBNoC8qHlRDloygLa_ll/s1600/Story+Telling.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #837253; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The call for students to develop Global Competency frightens some and inspires others. Some rush to its promise of increased quality of life, freedom to create, adding to a world narrative. Others cower in fear of their identity and values being swallowed by a wave of diffusion that waters down all uniqueness to some standardized global culture. It seems the world is inching ever closer and that precious Western, outdoorsman culture is threatened to extinction by outside influence that doesn't understand what they are pushing us to give up. How do we preserve our unique heritage in a sea of voices when it seems our voice gets smaller every day and other voices appear amplified. Do we build a wall of protection or shout our story louder? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #837253; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Stories have always been preserved by being shared. The world narrative is diminished each time a story is extinguished never to be heard again. Our stories are invaluable as tools that reflect and mold both us and our societies. When I visited the Philippines in 1987, I visited an island nation that conquered diversity with conformity. Over 400 years of imperialism had left them with a common language that was not their own...English. In an attempt to join the modern education movement, they adopted that language as the language of learning so all children learned all subjects in every classroom across the islands in a foreign language. Their ability to speak their native dialects diminished and their stories dulled to a whisper until someone noticed the loss of their essential story and schools are now different. Early education in the Philippines is now presented in native tongues. </span><span style="color: #837253; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Stories are being shouted instead of whispered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #837253; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">I've been inspired by the reestablishment of the Crow voice locally. Our little town has been sheltered by Heart Mountain since it's inception. I've heard the story of homesteaders, farmers, ranchers, and even of the misplaced Japanese Americans who were placed in a relocation camp there during World War II. I've studied the Plains Indians and heard Lakota stories from nearby hot springs, but was completely unaware of the Crow heritage in our midst. A nature conservatory has preserved the natural ecology of the mountain and has invited the Crow to restore their spiritual heritage. Their stories have now become intwined in mine.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #837253; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">We all have a story and our story will only be preserved if it is shared, so I am embarking on a journey to the Philippines. I will be an ambassador, a story teller, preserving our values by sharing them, enhancing our values by learning about the values of someone else. Developing Global Competency involves learning how to preserve our story and make sure our values aren't reduced to a whisper in the world narrative.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-86454840240709106522014-03-01T18:35:00.003-08:002014-06-21T08:33:10.732-07:00Healing Rose<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Healing Rose</h2>
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My most vibrant memory from my trip to the Philippines in 1987 was 24 hours of feverish hallucinations and trembling chills under a thin banana cloth blanket in a sparse, stone hostel room outside Carmel on the island of Bohol. My team partnered with three college interns, two male and a female. I woke momentarily to the concerned gaze of my Filipino friends. They shared a legend, a story about a girl who was ill but was saved when her lover hiked to top of a precarious mountain to pick a magical rose that healed her. A few hours later one of the workers stood beside me with sweat matted hair and a wild pink rose that he had plucked from the top of one of the Chocolate Hills. My fever had broken and pink roses became my favorite. They speak to me of healing and friendship and faith and the stories that cross cultural boundaries. Stories of hope and love and miracles rise from the roots of every culture and from the souls of broken people everywhere. </div>
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I shared that story with my son who held it in his heart and cherished giving me pink roses not just for my birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas or other special occasions, but on tough days when I was grouchy, frustrated, and tired. He would change the aura of the entire house by showing up with pink roses. The healing touched him, my daughters, my students, everyone I was in contact with on those difficult days. Today my heart aches for my beautiful son. I buy myself roses and wait for their healing touch and look out to the places in the world that hurt like I do...places like Carmel that was rocked by an earthquake not so long ago and Syria that is overcome with the horrors of civil war and I offer them a rose and a story.</div>
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How about you? Where would you lay a rose today? At the feet of a child weeping for his parents after a typhoon destroyed his home? or in the hands of one of the lost children of Ukraine or at the door of the Brazilian woman whose home was demolished to make room to transport the world to the upcoming World Cup? or at a child's grave or before the child's mother who longs desperately for her son? The magic in the rose is not in the rose itself, but in the love and in the stories and compassion flowing from them interlocking hurting people with each other, so we can find the strength to keep loving and hoping and offering healing to everything that is ill in our worlds. The question is if we are willing to walk precarious mountain paths to pick the healing roses for our world?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13007458153332376186noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4446482524875199207.post-34554001606442570532014-02-27T20:17:00.001-08:002014-06-21T21:47:23.262-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Room in the Truck</h2>
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There are so many ways to travel...horseback, plane, bicycle, train, subway, taxi, car and then the favorite for rural Wyoming folks ... the truck. Of course we fight over the comparable value of Chevys and Fords, but given the choice we'd climb in any old pick-up for an important journey before settling into just about any other mode of transportation. A truck will get you there.</div>
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And so begins my journey, a journey back to a place that awakened my love of adventure and appreciation for people...all sorts of people. It's a perplexing journey to the Philippines, a land I visited in 1987 when I was young and thought I had some amazing, American truth to share with the world but discovered the world had some amazing truths to share with me and that I needed the world more than maybe the world needed me. So my Teachers for Global Classrooms appointment to the Philippines took me by surprise. Back to the Philippines? hmmmm? huh? sigh. </div>
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Yes. Back to the Philippines but first my inaugural journey to our nation's capitol. Shyly I boarded a plane feeling very alone leaving my comfy country home for a bustling metropolitan conference filled with strangers who I was certain were more professional, more experienced, and higher caliber than me. I was not so certain I would fit in the blend of educators waiting at the end of the runway and a shuttle drive, but I did. Beautiful, caring professionals met me at the Fairmont and welcomed not just me but my ideas and my people into their conversation. They made room for me and I began what turned out to be a very long journey home.</div>
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After an uneventful flight to Denver, I was greeted by a plane full of unhappy passengers who discovered along with me that our flight home was canceled. I weighed my options and headed to wait on the standby list for a flight to the nearest airport to my home. That wait left me flightless and motelless, so I bedded down in a quiet spot at the airport and woke to standby some more. Finally, I was on a plane to a destination two hours from my home with several others who would be two hours from their destination. It was storming back home and the roads were precarious at best. </div>
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As I deboarded the plane and walked down the stairs to the baggage area, I was greeted by a young marine with a camo cap and cowboy boots. The generous hearted 24 year old had driven on ice to come get me and was already tossing bags and extra passengers into his truck for the 2 hour journey back. This dear lady who I had just met stood near me in shock as the rental car company told her that it would cost $400 to rent a vehicle to drive to my home town. The Ford already had four adults and a teenage girl packed in it, but the young man approached the lady with a grin. "It doesn't make sense for you pay $400 when we are going to the same place and have all this room," he said pointing to the 8 inches of seat still vacant in his truck if we slid together. She handed him her suitcase. He tossed it in the back and she slid in beside me. Knees scrunched almost to our chins we settled in for a bumpy ride filled with stories and the generosity of strangers.</div>
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And I thought about my upcoming journey. Yes, there is room in the truck for strangers and time in the journey for stories, lots of stories. Even in the homogenous, rural area where I live there is room in the truck for perspectives that are not our own and for a world of people with valuable stories, identities, and contributions. There is room in the truck as we embark.</div>
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