Where's the American dream in D.C.?

• Feast countdown = 22
• Craving = 25-cent buffalo wings from Georgetown's Rhino Bar
• Craving distraction = Thinking up everyone's Christmas gifts

In 2008, the Brookings Institution ran a report that found DC to be the largest "state" recipient of federal aid per capita.  In 2009, more than 1 in 5 people in the district relied on food stamps.  It makes sense, because DC is in the top 10 for cities with the highest rates of homelessness (National Alliance to End Homelessness).

This may be the biggest shock to my system after moving here.  I've seen urban poverty in Atlanta, not to mention my time spent in Mexico, but I didn't expect the capital of the world's most powerful country to showcase such a stark wealth gap.  The center of influence happens to be the picture of a broken system.

I saw a homeless man sleeping on one of the metro trains today.  He had sprawled out over two seats on the front row by the doors, making it impossible to miss him, and he snored slightly when the train rocked.  His things were stuffed into a couple of grocery bags at his feet.  What caught my attention more than his sad state, however, was everyone's reaction around me.  Maybe a slight glance when they entered the train, followed by sidestepping and complete removal from the situation.  I can't say that mine was much different from the start.

I say this not to point fingers or inspire everyone to start staring at the homeless; I merely draw attention to how casually we can deal with inequity.  It's jarring to see a man who has slept on the street wrapped in newspaper last night sitting a seat away from a teenage girl listening to her iPod inside her Coach purse.  Their day-to-day experiences are so different, and their paths in life likely lead to completely different ends, that their proximity makes me unsettled for some reason.  With these two classes rubbing shoulders every day, I can only imagine how painful a reminder it is to the have-nots that they can't have more.

If the goal is to give every person a fighting chance, we've got a lot of work to do in this city.  I want DC to set the standard of not only supporting people where they are, but also lifting them up to a better life.  That's the real challenge.  Kids need to see that the people in their community who do well are those who work hard and take education seriously.  We need more evidence of the American dream in the poorest neighborhoods. We can't afford to treat that casually.

Soap box over.  It's time I find a way to give back to my new home.  I'm open to any suggestions...

This one's for you, John

• Feast countdown = 28
• Cravings = Halloween candy
• Cravings distractions = Taking some "me" time

There's nothing quite like connecting with a stranger.  It energizes you.  It creates an almost euphoric state, where you feel a sudden bond with all those you don't know, and it propels you to reach out again.

While canvassing neighborhoods today to get out the vote for Tuesday, I came upon an elderly gentleman's home in Sikeston, Missouri.  Before knocking on his door, I glanced down at my clipboard to get some quick context -- name, gender, and age, 88 years old.  That'll do.  I then rapped on the door a couple of times with no response, left a door hanger on the front door, and walked down the driveway to visit the next house.  But a faint creak of the front door made me turn back around.

John Wilcox (not his real name) was standing in the doorway, peering out at me.  The next thing I knew, I was chatting with him in his den about the election and the importance of his vote.  If nothing else, the candidate's military background reached him on a personal level, and he jumped at the chance to share his stories with someone.  John had invited me inside to see his "medals from the war"... as he rummaged in the back room, I took a quick look around his modest den and caught glimpses of old family photos (many with a much younger version of John), a painting of his children, a WWII-era helmet and arm band, and military paraphernalia displayed among many dusty trinkets.  It was a tribute to a full, rich life.

John emerged from the back room, limping as he went, and holding a navy blazer studded with at least a dozen honorary medals.  A purple heart caught my eye.  I found myself surprised at the impressive display... I had little idea I was in the presence of a hero when I first looked upon this frail old man.

For an inscrutable amount of time, I listened intently to his snippets of stories as a first aid worker in WWII, hauling young wounded soldiers from the front lines, including the beaches of Normandy on D-Day; the memories that haunted him of having to leave men to die, or holding men while they died in his arms, never to see their mothers again; one of his dearest military buddies to this day who tried to teach him to box but called him "ol' mule legs" for his slow reflexes; and cherishing his friends in Luxembourg at the time who loaded him down with good coffee when he needed it.  The stories wound together in a blur as he wandered from memory to memory, and I couldn't get enough of it.

More than anything that struck me about John, though, was his visible need for company and a kind ear.  He lived alone now, after his wife passed away several years ago, and he mentioned the many friends he grew up with around here who now resided in the nearby cemetery.  One of his sons lived just down the street, so he was in much better care than most, but John still craved a friendly face and said so before I left.  "I wasn't going to vote before... but because you came here to personally talk to me, I'll be there on Tuesday."

Knowing I had many more doors to knock, I reluctantly stuck out my hand to say goodbye, and he asked for a hug.  I felt his tears on my cheek as I gave him a squeeze.  He needed to feel a live connection with someone -- "please keep me in your thoughts and prayers", he implored.  

I left the house in a daze, trying to sort out the encounter in my head and let its significance soak in at the same time.  It's in these fleeting moments that my heart swells for other people -- those I know and those I've never met -- who could use a helping hand.  I like to think that every person I interact with on this level, whether a stranger or a close friend, leaves a mark on me and changes me just a little.  I know John did.

Just like a blade of grass

• Feast countdown = 19
• Cravings = Pulled pork barbecue sandwich
• Cravings distraction = Writing

I find that the littlest things in nature can give me peace of mind.  Just the other day, I was walking along a familiar path in the local park just as the sun hovered eye-level on the horizon and lit up the tall grass around me.  I stood still and alone to take in the sight.  Each head of grass, waving independently but not distinctly in the wind, created a golden sea of swells and whispers.  It was a beautiful mass of movement.

As I stretched out my hand to touch the individual stalks of grass, though, I was overcome with how fragile and yielding they felt.  They're at the utter mercy of the world around them, their life cycle fleeting and indeterminate.  Yet they stand tall now.  I don't know why, but I looked over them and thought of all the people to walk this earth, past and present, and the snatches of time that they were each allotted here.  So many different life experiences -- the vastly varying levels of suffering and joy, for no apparent reason at all -- blended together into a raw, shared beauty.  

Life is brief, the passing of time and aging always difficult to handle, and we each want to mean something for the little time we have here.  Counter to my typical feelings of fear and helplessness when faced with these truths, the notion of a common human struggle surrounded me and filled me with gratitude and peace.  I have a precious gift, inherently more valuable because of its eventual end, and even more reassuring given that countless others before me have walked where I've walked and felt what I've felt.

Coming to grips with my fragile sliver of time here hasn't happened overnight.  It's a slow, difficult process.  And even though I can't even put it into words well enough here, I'm starting to make peace with it.  

"For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon the inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude; 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the daffodils."

William Wordsworth

Lessons from Sen. Jim DeMint

• Feast countdown = 20
• Cravings = Waffle House pecan waffles, slightly crunchy
• Craving distractions = Buckling down for the 2 final weeks of the campaign

I'm back, and I'm here to disrupt the temporary radio silence that occurs in most amateur blogs.  Who knew that campaigns didn't pause for breath on Sunday nights? :)  It's been a sprint since my last post in July, but rest assured that I still observed my fast every Sunday, even though I nearly caved to my roommate's mac & cheese dinners several times.

Now on to the subject at hand... I've been reading Jon Krakauer's Under the Banner of Heaven lately, and in a nutshell, it uses the story about a brutal murder committed by Morman fundamentalists to shed light on the Mormon faith/history and the inherent dangers of extremist religion (of any kind).  This latter part is what fascinates me most.  When people throughout history have placed religion above the law, or made them one in the same, the outcome was ultimately violence and persecution.

Think of the Salem Witchcraft Trials, the Spanish Inquisition, the Taliban and modern-day jihadists.  These kinds of theocracies place power in the hands of a few who interpret the faith for everyone else and paint a stark picture of "the enemy".

Even as a person who loves and respects the teachings of the Bible, I am relieved that our nation had enough sense along the way to separate religion from law, subjective from objective.  I realize, though, that this belief is seen as blasphemy among many conservative Christians today.  Enter Senator Jim DeMint of South Carolina.

I can't be sure of the audience, but I believe it was a CPAC (Conservative Political Action Committee) conference, where Senator DeMint lamented our country's current course.  I found this TV segment while flipping through the channels one night, and one particular part of his speech grabbed me.  In so many words, he said, "Wouldn't the world be so much better if we all held the same Judeo-Christian values?  Then, we wouldn't have hardly any need for government interference in our lives!"  Krakauer's warnings went off in my head.

I don't consider Senator DeMint to be an extremist, but I do believe that statements like these are inflammatory and narrow-minded.  Not only is it offensive to non-believers and people of other faiths, whose values are by default relegated beneath Judeo-Christian values, but it supposes that there is some kind of consensus among Christians and Jews on governance.  Quite the contrary.  Women's rights?  Homosexual rights?  Death penalty and criminal rehabilitation?  Provisions for the poor?  Substance use and entertainment?

So Senator DeMint implies that just one set of values would be adopted, likely of his own interpretation, and then the world would be off and running without a hitch, with government as a meek overseer.    

It's the same flawed reasoning that puts theocracies in power, and it's why our nation's early leaders decided that separating church and state was in our best long-term interest.  We don't all hold the same values, thanks to our freedoms in this country, and the government protects this by making the law impartial to religious argument.  It's what allows Senator DeMint to say what he wants at the pulpit.

Pausing at another milestone

• Feast countdown = 31
• Cravings = Whatever my roommates are cooking on Sunday
• Craving distractions = Cheesy bridal magazines (special thanks to Amira)

When people have to name the major decisions or defining moments in their lives, the big ones that typically surface are college, first job, marriage, kids, buying a house, etc.  I've made my way up to that third milestone, marriage, and the weight of this next decision has forced me to pause lately.  Not due to doubts, in all honesty, but from the realization that I've already laid out a large portion of my life's course, and I have to stop now to take it all in.

From that bird's eye view, the finiteness of my existence is often startling.  I suddenly want to accomplish more and experience more, but then it always begs the question, what's really worth accomplishing in the blink of an eye?  How do I allocate that limited time to the people in my life?  What do I want out of the time that I've been given?

It's not possible (or healthy) to dwell in this end-state mindset all the time, but once in a while, it's good.   I get rooted again in the simple things that matter:  like loving on my family and friends, showing random kindness to strangers, being a person that people respect, seeking out adventure whenever possible, regularly giving up material things to prove that they have no hold on me.  The day-to-day, specific goals serve an important purpose, but they don't mean much if they don't fit into the bigger narrative.

This is how I take comfort in a dizzying and cruel world, that snatches up our time without warning and forces us to ask why.  So, with little certainty of what's next, I can still lay out the things that are important to me and work to live up to that standard.  On a smaller scale, I hope my marriage is much the same way.

A tribute to a different kind of Father's Day

• Feast countdown = 36
• Current craving = Nothing.  I gave myself a stomach ache earlier with too much Lucky Charms.
• Current craving distraction = My stomach ache

My brain is mush tonight and my stomach is angry, so this post will be short and sweet.  My oldest sister Beth sent me to NPR's Speaking of Faith blog yesterday, where they wrote about Swedish parental leave for fathers.  Beth has two kids under the age of 3, so you can see why this would be pretty interesting for her.

It also piggybacks on a post I wrote a while ago on men breastfeeding.  Yes, the controversial one :)  Even if I don't agree with everything in Sweden's policy, I do love the idea of mothers and fathers deciding together on the amount of leave they will each take.  It empowers and encourages fathers so much more in the process.  See what you think...

http://blog.speakingoffaith.org/post/707695427/swedens-daddy-leave

Sweden’s “Daddy Leave”

Nancy Rosenbaum, associate producer

“Now men can have it all — a successful career and being a responsible daddy.” 
—Birgitta Ohlsson, Sweden’s Minister of EU-Affairs and a mother-to-be

In Sweden, state financial incentives are changing the face of modern fatherhood. According to the International Herald Tribune, Swedish families receive 13 months of government-subsidized parental leave. Dads get two months and so do moms. Parents can divide up the remainder however they choose. But here’s the kicker: if fathers don’t avail themselves of their “daddy leave,” then the family loses out on a month of paid subsidy.

Apparently in Sweden, daddy day care is the new normal. It’s an interesting example of social policy influencing human behavior and perceptions of masculinity. According to data from the Swedish Social Security office, Swedish fathers whose children were born in 2002 used an average of 84 days of paid paternity leave. That’s an increase from 57 days taken in 1999.

How does Sweden’s policies compare to other countries around the globe? For one perspective, check out these global parental leave maps created with Wikipedia data by an American dad/blogger living in Sweden (while on his daddy leave no less).

As I observe so many of my friends and colleagues grappling with work-life balance, it’s interesting to learn how other countries and cultures are approaching these parenting challenges, and how notions of what it means to be a man are shifting in the process. I’m also reminded of a story about what gets lost when fathers stay at the sidelines of child rearing from our show with Rabbi Sandy Sasso:

“I remember a father telling me that he doesn’t usually read to his children at night, that his wife did, the mother did. But one night, he read, and he decided to read this book. And he decided to leave out the questions, because he felt that would take too long and it would be too long a bedtime ritual…And the child stopped him in the middle and said, ‘No, Dad, ask the questions. Ask the questions. I want to talk.’ What she wanted to do is have a conversation in this quiet time when nothing else was intruding on their lives.”

In the image above, Swedish weightlifter Hoa-Hoa Dahlgren featured in a 1970s ad produced by Försäkringskassan — the Swedish Social Insurance Agency — to encourage fathers to participate in paid paternity leave. (photo: Reio Rüster)

Forever tied together

• Feast countdown = 37
• Sunday's cravings = Break-and-bake chocolate chip cookies
• Sunday's craving distractions = Fundraising

"...for that moment of hesitation I did not trust myself, and looked back upon the past as something precious about to be snatched away from us and was afraid of the future.  I had not understood then what I think I have now come to understand: that we can keep the past only by having the future, for they are forever tied together.  Therefore, I lacked some essential confidence in the world and in myself."

-Robert Penn Warren, All the King's Men


These words leapt off the page as I was reading last week, enough to make me pause and put the book down to make room for my thoughts.  It was one of those rare moments when the writer exposed me -- my idiosyncrasies and inner rumblings -- right there on the page, and he turned something that's seemingly obvious into a new mini revelation: Living fully and confidently in the present hinges on my ability to embrace, all at once, things past and yet to pass.

Unfortunately, I'm not great about embracing either, especially not at the same time.  I look back with regret on lost opportunities or friendships during school.  Or, I turn to worrying when confronted with big looming questions about my career or long-term goals.  Both cause me to question who I am at present.

I just love this line -- "we can keep the past only by having the future, for they are forever tied together".  It's a simple and dizzying concept all at once...  To go forward with confidence, living boldly, so that you have a chance at extending what you love about the past.  And for the regretful part in me, I would add that we can only "have the future" if we make peace with the past.

Ultimately, I picture myself in the middle of Past and Present Me, straining to hold the two entities together and working to balance their pull on either side.  I believe that my ability to live without fear, doubt, and insecurity largely depends on striking that balance.

The forgotten ones

• Feast countdown = 38
• Cravings for the past 3 Sundays = Blizzards at DQ
• Craving distractions = Work^3, along with good company

Poverty looks very different in rural Missouri than it does in metro Atlanta.  That probably sounds fairly obvious to anyone, but I still find myself surprised that some of the neediest people tend to fade into the background here.  In the cities, it is exactly the opposite – the concentration of people naturally brings about a visible and frequent contrast between the haves and have-nots, oftentimes in the most heavily trafficked areas.  Every time I ran in Piedmont Park, I expected to pass a series of homeless people curled up on park benches.  Or I expected to smell the stench of urine when I walked to work on the downtown streets.

Out here, it seems easier to hide and ignore.  Just the other day, I asked one of my teammates from this area about homelessness -- mostly because I hadn't seen it -- and he paused for a moment before answering that it isn’t the best metric for neediness here.  Some of the poorest people scrape by in an old car or abandoned trailer, because they are afforded the vast space and limited oversight to tuck themselves away in the hills.  They may have a home, but they are just as needy as the street corner dwellers.

The reason this strikes me is that I live in one of the poorest Congressional districts in the U.S. – 428 out of 435 for median income in 2008 – and yet I don’t bump into this harsh reality as frequently as I thought I would.  It’s much more subtle.  I’ve caught myself several times admiring a pristine stretch of pastures and pastoral landscape as I drive by, only glimpsing at the rusty trailer in its midst as an afterthought.  "Wait, somebody lives there...", I remind myself.  While no one is approaching my car for money or gazing at me from the curb as I walk, poverty still hides in the periphery and shrinks from the public eye.

I hate the thought of children growing up in an environment that feels forgotten.  As areas like these hemorrhage jobs and young talent, the next generation of rural America is left with little resources, or ambition, to turn things around.  These children place their future in failing school systems and dying factories, not to mention a way of life that isn’t sustainable in the long run.  Many of their parents’ careers are no longer there for the taking, or they are nothing like what they used to be. 

I have to remind myself of the "veil of ignorance" mindset: If raised in similar conditions myself, I don’t know if I would be a strong enough person to fight my way to a better life.  

Unfortunately, I don’t have any brilliant solutions to offer yet -- just my observations and musings for the time being.  The realist in me resigns to the fact that rural America will probably shrivel up for many years as we continue expanding into the global economy.  The idealist, however, looks to education and visionary public leadership as the vehicles for change.  I want to believe that people can innovate and adapt when pressed into it.  Time will tell, but I can only hope that I’m helping to bring about that tide of change for a slice of Missouri.

I HAVE A SISTER! And she lives across the world...

WfWI informed me this week that I have been matched with a woman in Afghanistan.  Here is the little bit that I know about her so far:

Her name is Mena.

She is between 29 and 30 years old.

She is married and without children.

She started her program in March 2010 and will graduate next February.

Sadly, I don't have a picture of her due to cultural reasons (pictures of women are off limits), but I plan to write her tonight and start filling you in on our conversations.  Fingers crossed that I hear back!

It's amazing, but just having a name makes this whole sacrifice 1000x more meaningful.  My weekly feast is officially dedicated to you, Mena.

The art of persuasion

• Feast countdown = 41 
• Blog posts skipped due to laziness = 2 (sorry)
• Cravings from the past 2 Sundays = Ice cream.  Always.
• Craving distractions = Campaign work.  Always.

What makes somebody change their mind?
What kind of electrical impulses have to trigger off in a person's brain for them to pause, mid-discussion, and say, "Oh, you may have a point there"?
Are there certain boxes that someone has to check off before they can acknowledge the merit of an opposing argument?

These are the questions that have recently dogged me on the campaign trail.

Given the raw nature of campaigning, where people tell you to your face exactly what they think of your arguments/ persuasive abilities, I find myself especially curious to understand the process of persuasion.  How do you convince someone to genuinely listen to you, let alone consider your viewpoint?  I want to get better at it, and I want to be more aware of my own tendencies toward stubbornness vs. openness.

This is much more than convincing someone to buy a Snickers over a Milky Way, though.  Forget decision-making brought on by marketing or people's natural reflexes, where they aren't deliberately choosing to do things a different way.  I'm talking about altering the way that someone looks at the world and their role in it, and the result is their mindful admission of a new perspective.

Full disclosure -- I don't claim to be any kind of expert on this subject, especially when it comes to points on psychology or biology, so all I really want to do is throw out some lessons on persuasion that have resonated with me recently.  These mostly stem from real encounters I've had with folks in Missouri, coupled with reflections on my own ideology shift during college.  Think of this as a late-night campfire discussion among friends, where the deep and puzzling thoughts seem to surface most, and everyone seeks to find answers based on their own experience.  So here goes:

1. Connect with the other person on an emotional level first, because it's one of the most powerful ways to influence.  We see this all the time in politics -- people vote largely based on the social issues that strike closest to home and their way of life, like gay marriage and gun rights.  If you can tie national-scale issues back to individual freedoms and things they hold dear, ears will perk up.
2. Point out inconsistencies.  Nobody likes to speak out of two sides of their mouth, and folks have a much harder time defending their position when they notice this of themselves.  They'll never admit it upfront, but it's something they're likely to mull over later.  
3. Use humor strategically.  Everyone likes to laugh; laughing disarms people, breaks down barriers of defensiveness, and it leaves them more willing to listen to you.  It also puts everyone on the same page -- you all agree that an evangelical anti-gay leader with a rent-a-boy is funny -- which opens the door for you to point out the ridiculousness and utter hypocrisy there.  (John Stewart = case in point)
4. Find common ground whenever possible.  Once you have a basis for agreement on something, such as a child's right to a good education, it's much easier to build up to the more controversial argument like redistribution of property taxes.  Generally, I find that people like to find agreement early anyway.
5. Be a history buff.  Since history often repeats itself, it's good to brush up on the last 50 years in the US and have apt comparisons handy for today's issues.  Then you'll know which policies succeeded or failed and which leaders were responsible.  For example, if you can point to a commonly revered leader in semi-recent history (take Reagan for Republicans) who disagreed with the decisions being made today, it makes people think twice.  What good Republican wants to disagree with Reagan?
6. Show that you care.  When people feel like you not only hear their problems but also act on them, they are much more willing to open up.  I saw this all the time on church trips to Mexico in high school, where we built houses in some of the most impoverished areas.  Less approachable individuals at the start would become so filled with gratitude that they eventually sought out time to talk with us.  Find someone's need or passion, go out of your way to express interest, and they will often want to hear what you have to say.

None of these ideas are revolutionary by themselves, but together, they really change the way I approach people and structure my thoughts.  It was even a hard question to answer about myself -- what makes me change my mind on an issue -- and when I think back on it, the people who put these lessons to use were the most effective in persuading me to their side.

I'm curious to hear your reactions or other lessons learned on the art of persuasion.  In the meantime, I'll continue testing these ideas with folks at the next town parade and local county fair...

Babies + Weddings + Facebook = My new happy place

• Feast countdown = 44
• Sunday's craving = Figo's Salmone con piselli
• Sunday's craving distraction = Elle Macpherson's 1990s workout video (no joke)

Given last week's post, I thought there couldn't be a more fitting opportunity to concede my latest hobby: browsing half-friends/half-strangers' wedding and baby albums on Facebook.  Welcome to my life of contradictions, or at least those involving gender stereotypes.

At a party several weeks back, I remember sitting around chatting with a group of friends, both guys and girls, and the topic of an old college administrator came up who had recently had a baby.  I'm thinking to myself, I probably know everything there is to know about this little kid even though I haven't met him, because I've opened nearly every newly-posted baby photo album on Facebook.  This is the creepy information that I plan keeping to myself... at least until a girl across from me blurts out, "I follow his baby blog religiously -- my favorite post is about his love of shoes!"

And just like that, the creepiness barrier vanished and I was free to admit my own habits: "I know!  I especially love his obsession with a tiny basketball that he sleeps with every night... and have you seen his latest tuxedo outfit?"

For all my time on Facebook, I'd guess that I spend at least 75% of it looking solely at updates about pregnancies, newborns, weddings, bachelorette parties, baby/wedding showers, honeymoons, a couple's first house, home decorating, and just about anything else remotely domestic.  It's especially worth noting that none of these things are prevalent in my life, yet I'm still strangely drawn to them, even if it means browsing through my old high school classmate's sister's wedding album (this is no exaggeration).

There's no big insight to draw from this, really -- just like anyone enjoys flipping through a good US Weekly once in a while, I kick back to the happy, fluffy stuff of other people's lives.  Specifically, I love watching from afar those people that I halfway know, because there's no personal drama to distract me, no pressure to get involved, and I get to be a truly passive observer.  Call it pure escapism from the everyday grind...

Did the bridesmaids look hotter than the bride?
How many times did Junior lose it during the Easter Egg hunt?
Where do they find the time to cook gourmet duck every night?
Why did he propose right in front of her whole family?

The juicier the details, the better.

So for all the proud moms, newlyweds, and cutesy couples out there in cyberspace, thank you for providing diversions during the afternoon workday slump.  Also, fair warning that I may copy your trendy style someday.

What if men had to breastfeed?

• Feast countdown = 45
• Sunday night's craving = Pretzels and M&Ms, the classic combo
• Sunday night's craving distraction = Researching campaign donors

If it's not already apparent by now, I'm fascinated by gender differences and their role in society.

Specifically, do men and women inherently, by nature, behave or think in different ways?  Or is it mostly chalked up to the way we're raised and the social norms of the time?  A classic example is men crying in public: hypothetically, they may be as apt to do this as women, but society has long taught them to suppress these feelings, so it's hard to know what would happen in a social vacuum.

I talked about this idea in depth with several guy friends one time.  Surprisingly, I was the one who defaulted to the argument that women are inherently more sensitive, nurturing, emotional, etc., but all I could really use to back it up was a woman's physical qualities.  My thinking was that women have babies, babies immediately rely on their mothers to survive, so women naturally take up the role of caretaker.  And then I threw in the whole bit about hormone levels.

Looking back, I find my position pretty flimsy.  I didn't even begin to account for the many women who choose not to have children, can't have children, or haven't yet had children -- does this mean that they are all inherently less sensitive and nurturing?  As for hormones, modern contraceptives have allowed us to control estrogen levels and its effects almost entirely, not to mention the fact that women who have had their ovaries removed do not report a sudden change in behavior.

No, I started to think more seriously about the notion that men and women may not be as inherently different as we assume -- except for that minor issue of physicality, which may be the sole reason that women have been subjugated under men throughout the majority of history.  The woman is weaker, bears the children, rears the children, so she stays in the hut.  But if there was a way to control for some of these physical differences, to split up the work of child-rearing, I was curious to think of how it would affect the world.

Then it hit me -- what if men had to breastfeed?

(Yes, this is Daniel Craig apparently wearing a bra)

Before you write this off as Shel Silverstein meets Three Men and a Baby, just follow me in this thought experiment for a moment.  Imagine a world with two main assumptions:

• Women and men share completely in the child-rearing process
• Neither sex is physically superior to the other

The exercise lends an interesting perspective on leveling the gender field, primarily by exposing our largest biases...

Let's start with the family.  A woman becomes pregnant, she carries the baby for nine months, and after delivery, she hands the baby over to Dad for the next year of feeding.  Suddenly, Mom is free of immediate responsibility and simply supports Dad as he keeps the little one alive.  Dad can't stray far from the house without a babysitter, and he grows intimately in-tune with the baby's every need.  In this new scenario, Mom and Dad are equally critical to the baby's survival and development.  On an even broader scale, bad fathers are less likely to bolt, knowing that their baby can't live without them; teen fathers now share the full burden with teen mothers; children grow up with a strong connection to both parents; and children see Mom and Dad as equals.  There's no predominantly male boss of the household.

Next, we look at the workplace.  Who's to say that Jane can't be CEO instead of John?  Both of them have to sacrifice long periods of time to have kids, so it's not a give-in that one gender will end up staying home more often.  Women study the same fields as men in school, set the same kinds of goals, and climb to success in the same way, because no one is encouraging either sex in particular to pick a "family-friendly" career path.  White collar executive suites are filled 50/50 with men and women, employees respond similarly to male or female bosses, and no company feels the need to create women's "empowerment groups".

Then comes modern society as a whole.  Women are just as likely to be breadwinners and major leaders.  There is no stigma associated with a strong, dominant female whose husband may stay at home with the kids -- in fact, there's no stigma for strong women at all.  For example, wealthy, successful females on Wall Street are targeted with the same eagerness as male bachelors.  A young girl beating a boy in the school math bowl or tennis match is seen as no big deal among peers.  Female U.S. Presidents are run of the mill.  Similarly, boys are raised no differently than girls (trucks and easy-bake ovens are interchangeable), men are comfortable showing affection and uncertainty out in the open, and they have no problem serving under a woman.  Parents don't shelter their daughters more than their sons.  On a darker note, women don't worry more about walking alone at night, and people fear female criminals just as much as males.  

Finally, we examine the ripples back through history.  Starting with the earliest civilizations, men and women have equal authority within the family and among peers.  Like people of varying races or ethnicities, they look different, but their abilities and behavior are indistinguishable.  Religions form around both male and female figureheads, marriage requires both parties to present dowries, kingdoms and property fall to the eldest child (regardless of gender), women fight alongside men in wars, and if gender discrimination exists at all, it subjugates men just as often as women.  A woman's contributions to society are no greater or no less than a man's.

Exercise over.

This is the closest I can get to picturing a gender-neutral world.  In my mind, this is what it would feel like to erase a troubled past and to treat the opposite sex exactly the same, despite any physical differences.  I readily admit that the assumptions are ludicrous, but the outcomes, in my mind, are not entirely so.

I don't want to get too philosophical or pedantic, but it's an interesting game to play.  At least it makes you wonder, are our differences just limited to body types?

The problem with social inertia

• Feast countdown = 46
• Current craving = Pretzel chips and hummus
• Current craving distraction = A trip to Wal-Mart (along with the rest of Rolla)

Today, Maureen Dowd zeroed in on an idea that I've been mulling over lately, that is, the overwhelming tendency for societies to overlook their own problems and affirm the status quo.  This mindset of "it's just the way things are" is incredibly powerful, as evidenced by the historically slow pace of social revolutions.  Each of us grows up learning a certain way that the world works, and unless something or someone drastically interrupts our way of thinking, we continue to reinforce our own narrow perspectives.

In Maureen's case, she points to her unquestioning acceptance of the Catholic Church's policies toward women.  While quizzing Muslim women who accept their subjugated status in certain societies, she suddenly wakes up to the reality that she is guilty of the same -- why had she not bucked against the Church's misogynist ways much earlier?  She laments, "I, too, remained part of an autocratic society that repressed women and ignored their progress in the secular world."

Ironically, we as Americans do this sort of thing all the time.  One commenter on the column exposed the phenomenon outright: 

"Americans fancy their own churches, corporate silos, and consumer niches as empowering zones -- but thanks to your column today, perhaps more will question how too many yet live in massive denial, massively abetting the powers that be."

I see it here in southeastern Missouri very clearly.  As one of the 10 poorest districts in the entire nation (and dead last, at one point, when considering women), MO-8 represents a region that seems resigned to the present state of affairs, unaware of the potential for real progress.  No one wants to admit that they're being had or that they're falling behind, so it's easier to just point to the rest of the world's problems and turn a blind eye to the growing crisis at home, as many of their politicians do.  I hope to help shift that mindset in the coming months.

As a final thought, I went on an amazing hike yesterday in the Mark Twain National Forest, about 2.5 hours southeast of Rolla by car.  It turned out that I enjoyed the drive almost as much as the hike, as I passed tiny towns of 1000+ people and rolling cow pastures (see pictures below).  This part of the country is truly captivating.  In the midst of it all, though, I forced myself to take note of the alarmingly low living conditions in these rural areas.  It was almost too easy to ignore the broken-down trailers scattered across the idyllic landscape, but once I noticed a few, I couldn't stop noticing.  

I know I've written about this before, but I like to play with the concept of breaking social inertia.  So few people in the world do anything about it -- the process of removing ourselves from our own societies for a moment, taking an unbiased view, and uncovering the disturbing conventions that we've come to accept.  As Maureen discovered, we're all guilty of it, but only a fraction of us realize it or even act on it.

Life's medicine: Giving others a leg up

• Feast countdown = 47
• Past Sunday's craving = Pint and Plate's buffalo chicken sandwich (the one my boyfriend was eating at the time)
• Past Sunday's craving distraction = Packing my life into a Honda Civic

Apologies for the late post, but I assure you that I still resisted eating dinner last Sunday.

These past few days have simply been a blur of activity and culture shock since my move out to Rolla, Missouri, including my drive of roughly 650 miles in 11 straight hours.  After rushing from one errand to the next, I'm finally taking advantage of this brief pause at the campaign headquarters to reflect on my new situation here.

One thing is certain -- whenever I take a risk, I inevitably have a big uh-oh moment afterward where I doubt everything about myself.  (Sadly enough, this can even happen after a big shopping splurge, aka serious buyer's remorse.)  I faced that same, familiar sinking feeling in my stomach today, after sitting around without much to do for these first couple days.  Questions circled: Can I even be helpful here?  Will I ever become an integral part of the team?  What does it take to do that?

Self-doubt and comparison are big battles for me, and I often give in to them too easily.  The only thing I find that loosens their grip on me, though, is remembering the simple goal for my life: serving other people in a meaningful, selfless way.  This idea forces me to take the focus off of myself and put it on others, and it roots me again in what's most valuable in life.  My constant reminder to put pride and recognition aside.

I think back to the strong women of My Sister's House in Atlanta, who took shelter in order to start over in life, and my memories with them re-emphasize the joy of humble service.  Spunky Edith will forever stick out in my mind -- a woman in her mid-fifties who came in off the street and struggled to learn, but broke into a huge smile whenever a lesson clicked.  There was also Teresa, the hungry reader who ate up stories about Rapunzel and Sojourner Truth, and whose eyes lit up when she saw you across the room.  Catherine was the jokester of the group -- also very clever -- and Vicki poured herself into her lessons with unrivaled dedication and intensity.

My ladies at AUM's GED class

No amount of prestige or public praise can fulfill me like those women did.  Now, I face a very different opportunity to serve people through the political process, some of the poorest in the nation, and I'm once again called to swallow my pride.  Whether printing labels, putting stamps on postcards, or feeding the campaign dog, I remind myself to do it with a full heart.

How to see the world like Jane Austen

• Feast countdown = 48
• Current craving = Chocolate gelato from Paulo's Gelato Italiano & Desserts
• Current craving distraction = Discussing politics with friends

A good friend recently bought me the DVD set of A&E's Pride and Prejudice mini series, including all 5 hours of witty, breathtaking repartee.  It's my favorite movie by a long stretch, given that I've watched it probably a dozen times, mostly during high school while sighing and rewinding certain scenes with Colin Firth alongside girl friends (see below).  Not to hype it up or anything, but it's worth all the hype.



The original story of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy always stirs up something new for me each time I read or watch it.  It's a timeless classic for a number of reasons -- the personification of pride and blind prejudice, the difficult process of breaking down first impressions and misconceptions, true love in the form of quiet sacrifice and persistence, contrasts of shallow and meaningful relationships...  On the other hand, I am also reminded that it is a distinct time piece hearkening back to a difficult era, particularly regarding women and men.  Without directly assaulting people's sensibilities or openly asserting her opinions, Jane Austen pushed carefully against social norms with the use of satire, irony, and sometimes wrenching examples of injustice.  Remember Charlotte Church, who married out of desperation for financial security?  Or the Bennets' unfortunate estate dealings, since they had no son to inherit the assets?  As difficult as it may be to believe now, her writing was progressive for its day.

Like many people, I look back at the mixture of historical injustices and revolutions that corrected for them, and I wonder about the issues today where most of us are blind.  Across the developed world, we have already started moving toward equal rights for homosexuals, and we continue to refine our treatment of women and minorities, but what areas are we missing altogether?  What injustice sits right under our noses but we ignore it, to the chagrin of future generations?

In the United States, I start thinking of areas where we are too comfortable or agnostic with our actions now -- such as criminal punishment and prison conditions, treatment of animals and meat preparation, handling of illegal immigrants at our borders, and care of the environment and our consumption levels.  Who is today's Jane Austen, gently pricking at our sense of rightness?

I said before that we are already acting on many salient issues "across the developed world", yet it is undeniable that so much of the world lags painfully behind on social justice.  Nicholas Kristof and his wife Sheryl WuDunn won't let us forget it in their new book, Half the Sky.  Their stories highlight women who are treated far worse today than in Jane Austen's 1800s England.  The reason I bring this up is not to detract from the next generation of issues, but rather to emphasize how important it is to act on them much sooner, because we see how big of a lag effect already exists.  Many developing nations are beginning to see the incredible waste of excluding women from the economy -- a realization that is pivotal for empowering women and extending them greater rights -- and they are just picking up a battle that has been waging for centuries.

I challenge myself to think 100 years in advance while observing the world in 2010, and to do my part to speed up the journey to broader social justice.

Resumes vs. Risk-taking

• Feast countdown = 49
• Current craving = Pumpkin bread that my roommate just baked
• Current craving distraction = Gum + the healthcare vote

It's a perfect stormy night backdrop for this post, as I listen to rain pounding and thunder shaking my little house in Midtown Atlanta, because I am about to reveal my latest life shift... (dramatic lightning strikes)... 

In two weeks, I'm picking up my life and moving to Rolla, Missouri to work on the Tommy Sowers congressional campaign.  The 8th district is about to become home.

Since graduating college two years ago, I've become increasingly hungry (bad word choice) for work where I can serve the public and see the results of my efforts.  I have to stop myself and ask, what are you working toward -- a pretty resume or a meaningful life?  What will you look back on as success?  What is worth the daily struggle?  Because otherwise, I am likely to fall into the easy pattern of living for comfort, for prestige and awards, and for nods of approval at family gatherings and dinner parties.  In the words of Abraham Lincoln, and recently quoted by President Obama:

"I'm not bound to succeed, but I'm bound to live up to what light I have."

While I don't equate my own small actions with these two great men, I still view this adventure as a course correction toward that same end.  I will embark on a seven-month journey to elect an incredible leader to office -- someone, I believe, who will take on the plights of one of the poorest areas in the U.S. and fight for their voice and well-being.  I relish the chance to talk with these local folks about their concerns and values.  I look forward to moments of discomfort when I meet people very different from myself and who view the world at another angle, because it will challenge me and expand my understanding of this country.  

This whole campaign will expand my understanding of the political process, where ideology meets polling games and sound bites.  The grittiness of it will surely become tiresome, but I treasure it all the same when I look around the world at countries like Somalia and Myanmar, where government elections are a ruse and leaders serve their own interests unabashedly.  Ours is a messy process, but it ultimately empowers people who seek out the truth.  I look forward to the day when the world's most forgotten and oppressed can make their leaders work for them.  (Women of the world, take heart.)

In similarly rambling fashion, I can't help but revert to cheesy symbolism at this last moment -- I just looked out my window to find the storm subside into a fully arched rainbow.  I don't know the last time when I saw a rainbow touch down on both sides like that.  It reminds me of promises, of hope, that good often emerges when we least expect it, and that the St. Louis Arch is calling my name :)  I am ready to take the risk for a more difficult and more fulfilling ride.

Ethiopia: Still so far to go

I came across this article by Johann Hari of The Independent today, and it literally forced me to squirm in my seat.

Nurame was in her bed when she was woken by an angry mêlée. In her family's hut there were grown men – an incredible number, 10 or more, all in their 30s, all standing over her father, shouting. They reached for her... She had heard whispers that, when a girl is considered ready for marriage, a man will seize her, and rape her, and then she must serve him for the rest of her life. "That was the culture," she says. But it wasn't her culture: like all the other little girls, she didn't want it. "I started screaming and tried to run out of the hut," she says... She was taken back to his home, held down in front of his family, raped, and taken to be married the next morning.

...In Ethiopia, Nurame's story happens every day.  In 2003 – the last year for which statistics are available – the National Committee on Traditional Practices of Ethiopia found that 69 per cent of marriages begin like this, with the triple-whammy of abduction, rape, and a forced signature.  


The article goes on to explain how one brave woman from Ethiopia, Boge Gebre, is working tirelessly to change mindsets, instill justice, and empower women.  Her organization is Kembatta Women Standing Together (KMG), and its efforts have "slashed the rate of bridal abductions by more than 90 percent" in the Kembatta area.  Just by holding forums where men and women sit together as equals and raise their concerns, the organization is radically altering the culture there.  It's truly an amazing story of accelerated change -- literally over the course of a generation in some areas -- but the road to widespread justice and equality is still a long and hard one.  Awareness is just the beginning.


Young girls in Hobich-Haka display bold placards at a KMG workshop declaring their refusal to be cut.


(If interested in supporting KMG, the UK's Sport Relief foundation is collecting donations, or you can contact KMG directly.)

The lioness mindset

• Feast countdown = 50
• Current craving = Cheese pizza, no frills
• Current craving distraction = Watching The Godfather (part II) with friends

I listened to a clip of NPR today about innovative women, and although the topic largely centered around environmental sustainability, I latched on to a different message -- that the feminine qualities in all of us have a unique strength and ability to improve society.  Annie Leonard briefly talked about her new role as a mother and how it revealed a power deep within that she never knew she had.  Much like a lioness and its cubs, she explained her new fiercely protective and dominant nature, ready to lash out at anything that threatened her young.  In an interesting twist, Leonard then challenged her audience to harness these feelings toward social leadership, by adopting a more communal mindset and driving progressive change.

As humans, why do we limit this maternal strength and sacrifice to our immediate loved ones?  What would it look like if we became "protective mothers" of the world's most helpless?

Throughout history, women have been pivotal in binding communities together and leading progressive movements to help the downtrodden (think women's movement against child labor in early 1900s).  This presents us with a powerful platform to encourage interdependence, empathy, and service.  While I may not agree with claims that women are inherently more nurturing or sensitive than men, I do believe that society has reinforced these gender roles, and in doing so, unknowingly developed a channel for women to lead with these strengths.


Aside from reinforcing women's confidence in themselves, I hope this message does much more in the way of inspiring compassionate, vehement, community-oriented leadership.  Every person neglected by family and government, who falls to the lowest rungs of society, must become our next big cause.  What greater joy than to empower, protect, and strengthen those unable to fend for themselves?

When in need of inspiration, click on the Discovery Channel sometime and watch the lioness in action.

The straw that broke the camel's complacency

• Feast countdown = 51
• Current craving = Greek Scramble at Thumbs Up Diner (a sinful blend of feta, spinach, and eggs)
• Current craving distraction = Fiddling with blog color schemes

The Goal: To sponsor an international sister in need by giving up dinner each Sunday for a year.

For the next 52 Sundays, I will skip dinner (nighttime snacking included) and direct the weekly savings of roughly $7 toward Women for Women International's sponsorship program.  The program will pair me with a woman afflicted by war, and through my donations and letters of support, the hope is that she can work toward a life of healing and sustainability.  Sunday supper has now been replaced with a feast of giving.

Before I go any further, please don't mistake me as a) another extremist dieter with hidden motives or b) one of those people who "just forgot to eat lunch again".  That couldn't be farther from the truth, as my well-stocked fridge and good friends at Chick-Fil-A will attest, and not to mention my talent for tracking waiters across the restaurant out of the corners of my eyes.  No, I love good food and have a reputation for all-day snacking, so this new challenge will take an extra kick of will power.

So why would a food-lover do this?  For three reasons: to make room in my budget for giving, to prove that anyone has capacity to give, and to put my drop in the bucket of good deeds that collectively can change the world.  I realized that, aside from rent, food costs continually take first place among my monthly expenses, and it wouldn't be hard to cut one meal while also cutting more coupons, all for the sake of supporting another.  This is not meant to be a platform for my own self-righteousness -- plenty of people make sacrifices much more monumental than mine.  Instead, I want this experience to help similar people see how simple and practical it is to give regularly and to offer someone a leg up in the world.  I want to help bridge the gap between caring and doing.

For me, I crossed that bridge after a long buildup period of reading and listening.  I read Greg Mortenson's latest book, Stones into Schools, about the most desolate communities in Central Asia that crave schools for their girls and women.  I watched Nicholas Kristof's Reporter documentary, set in the Democratic Republic of Congo, on finding individual women's stories that put a face on the larger problems and inspire readers to care.  I read articles from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation that emphasize women as a key component to breaking the cycle of poverty in developing countries.  Finally, I read and watched Lisa Shannon's story of running long distances in order to raise awareness and funding for the war-torn women of Congo.

The words and images followed me for weeks, weighing on my heart and leaving me restless to do something, until I ran into the literal one-for-one solution -- giving up my meal so that another woman can eat, be whole, and empower others.  Among all the causes to support today, Women for Women International is one that truly creates myriad ripples and touches whole communities.

I hope you will join me each Sunday night as I take time to reflect, distract myself from food, and hopefully share stories from my sponsored sister over time.  (I won't be paired for another 4-5 weeks, so look forward to the next several posts where I pine for Girl Scout cookies and Mellow Mushroom pizza.)  In all seriousness, I'll need your support in the coming weeks, and nothing would make me happier than knowing I have a team of folks going through the same challenge, or simply offering words of encouragement.  Come feast with me next Sunday night!

(If interested, read more about becoming a sponsor with Women for Women International)