The Meaning of Safety in Common Spaces

I work at a university as a teacher of intercultural learning and development. That means I work with students to learn about their own cultures so that they are better prepared to understand other cultures. You see, we want to graduate students who are globally marketable and are able to think past their own identities.

I have developed many workshops over the years to address such learning outcomes. One of the developmental workshops/classes is called Safe Zone. It was developed by Anthropologist, Dr. Susan Allen, among others, originally to address sexual minorities, and then began to include intersectional identities deemed, “Not in the mainstream.” That was back in the 1970s, and we continue this important work of building allies today.

With the recent focus on inequities across all social constructs, there remains a focus to help institutions build community, foster a sense of belonging for all, and address emotional well-being. As I continue to say, it’s a life-long journey. When one asks me, “How long with this take?” My favorite answer is, “A life time.”

I have a class called, History of Exclusion, Implicit Bias, Aggression, and Language. I present this here as a way for us to think about the environments that we build in order to exclude, which is the opposite of building community. Here is a quick primer:

Justification:

As with any intercultural learning processes, all students , no matter who you are, must understand and internalize the benefits of being globally aware, confident and competent. This learning is not a “check box,” nor is it a “once and done” process.

The goal is for a us to move toward “allyship,” with historically excluded groups with “Authentic Allyship.” For example:

“Performance Allyship,” i.e. extrinsically motivated and tends not to be sustainable. Rather is tends to be “a means to an end.”
“Authentic Allyship,” intrinsically motivated and tends to promote positive and sustainable change in systemic exclusion.

If we are asking ourselves and teaching our children to function in a global society, we must model that same “self and other” awareness. Here’s a way to begin:

Learn about your own identity and the characteristics that make up your culture.
Learn about the identities of others and what about those identities that make up their cultures.
Internalize how this understanding contributes to cohesion and the equitable representation of multiple identities in the class (room), in community, and in societal settings.

Intended Outcomes: Participants in this practice internalize their personal journey in Authentic Allyship with persons who identify with populations not part of a dominant. Practitioners of allyship understand how their own stories influence how they view the “other.” Practitioners of allyship find common ground to learn the stories of “others” and build relationships. Ultimately, practitioners of allyship advance the concepts of “Community, Belonging, and Emotional Well-being” for all.

As you look for readings, look for key words in the following topics.

Topics Covered:

History of the exclusionary acts that contribute to racism and other “-ism” constructs
Understanding Implicit biases and its effects in building relationships
Understanding different types of aggressions: how do they affect the relationship between the aggressor and their “targets,” including:
- Micro-invalidations
- Micro-insults
- Micro-assaults
Understanding the language that further “minoritizes” and separates one group from another.

Again, we promote: “Community, Belonging, and Emotional Well-being”

This is what I want for us:

Thank you for reading.

Food in Social and Intercultural Interactions!

In the past three months, I’ve attended a Diwali (The Hindi celebration of Light in the Darkness) in my rural Kansas town, thanks for my friends and colleagues from India. Two days later, I had a wonderful Filipino meal, which included Pancit, stews, and bread. There I watched as my friends, Karen and Jonathan, parents witnessed their first snowfall, back in November. All this while, I had the honor of interacting with a wide range of folks. I learned a little more about them by sharing in their cultural celebrations and the foods of their regions and countries. It’s my favorite thing to do! I walk away, a little fuller in my stomach, heart, and mind. I will chronicle some of the events, here. The food from the Diwali included curry spices, chick peas, basmati rice, potatoes, chicken, and, in the white bowl, Gulab Jamun, these wonderful little pastry-like rounds soaked in syrup. This food fed my soul!

Eating with my friends, who hail from the Philippines, we were treated to pancit, a clear noodle and vegetables dish with lovely flavors of garlic and savory flavors of pork (the preference of our host). We were also treated to a stew with beef and Lumpia, a spring roll of vegetables and meat. Yes! Also the first snow for Karen’s parents!

Well, it’s been a few weeks since this pleasant evening out on the porch, but I’ve wanted to tell you about it for a while. We call it, “Happy Hour”. We each bring food and drink to share. In addition to the homemade pizzas, cheese, and dessert that I offered, my friends brought cooked carrots, the best Leche de flan from my friend, Karen, who apparently learned to bake this velvety, smooth custard in her home country of the Philippines. She’s pictured above with her parents’ first snow fall while on a visit to the U.S. Another friend offered her sweet carrots, and another brought apple cobbler, and we had chicken pot pie. In such “happy hours”, I’d say the conversation stands as the most important aspect with food bringing up a close second. I found it interesting that, on this particular occasion, the men sat outside, and the women sat inside. Hmmmm….I wonder why this happened.

For an appetizer, I made my own type of Bourisin cheese by draining whole-milk, Greek style yogurt in a hanging cheese cloth. I added my own blend of dehydrated vegetables for a tangy cheese spread. One of my favorite things to do is make pizza dough and have all the trimmings of vegetables, meats, cheeses, sauces (marinara and pesto are my favorite sauces to have available), and attendees make their own pizzas. We have a great time. Here are some of the offerings for this lovely October evening: 1) My “Boursin” cheese nestled in a clay pot, 2) Baked pizza with pesto, and 3) Leche de Flan

Regional Foods of Patabamba – Peru

A few years ago, I went on a study trip to Peru. I wrote about it previously. Of course, I’m always up for a new adventure in eating, though I love interacting with people with different backgrounds from my own. (Which is every day, really! I don’t have to go to another country to do that!). My study group and I took many trips in-country, so I will talk about those from time to time. This story begins in Cuzco, and it includes food, too!

The Cuzco church bells pealed at 4:00 a.m. We ate a lovely breakfast of ham, cheese, eggs, fruit, granola made with puffed millet in place of our traditional oatmeal, liquid yogurt, and hot espresso. Espresso is the only type of coffee served in Cuzco! Having only been a consumer of coffee for a few years, this was strong for me, but it proved to be beneficial in the high altitude. Cuzco is considered the Peruvian Andes and is 11,152’ altitude. Coming from a mountainous region in Colorado, I adjusted quite well. As for the espresso and any coffee in Peru, I must say that there was no such thing as a bad cup of coffee in Peru. After a lovely breakfast, we chewed on some coca leaves for good breathing, and then, we boarded the bus to Patabamba.

Patabamba, in Quechua, means “upper flat. Originally, it was Patapompa, but the Spanish colonizers changed it to Patabamba. From what I could gather regarding Quechua, it is a complex language, which was largely replaced with Spanish after Spain’s invasion in the 15^th Century. Many of the remote villages around Cuzco are functionally monolingual speakers of Quechua. It is a beautiful language with only three vowels (i, a, u), and in some words the vowels are completely devoiced (silence, a stop, or a sort of throaty sound). I was able to observe the language in action when village members relayed instructions to one another as they prepared our most sumptuous and interesting meal of the whole trip. At first, I did not understand that the, aforementioned, stops, hisses, and throaty sounds were part of the language. Then after, I learned to listen for the “devoiced” part of the language that is Quechua (Ketch-wah).

Our menu of lamb, chicken, llama, potatoes, sweet potatoes, lima beans (cooked in their pods), plantain, and blocks of farmer cheese were baked in a rock “oven” especially built for the occasion. We watched as the hole was dug, and then lined with the rocks. The most impressive was the dome built by the large stones leaning against each other. The crowing touch came when the “keystone” was placed in the ground oven.

The domed rock oven was filled with wood fuel and burned until the rocks were hot. When the rocks reached the target temperature, the dome was deconstructed by first removing the cap stone which held all the stones in place. The rocks that made the dome were removed, and the raw foods were placed on the hot stones. The cheese was wrapped in brown paper before being place on the other ingredients. When all the food was in place, green branches with yellow flowers still in place, were spread on top of all the foods. Then large sheets of heavy plastic were laid out on the green branches. Then the moisture-rich soil dug to make the cooking pit was spread out on the plastic until nothing, but soil was visible. The food stayed in the “oven’ for 35 minutes, and voilà! We ate the most agreeable meal with cups of coca tea to wash it all down. The meats, plantain, and vegetables cooked to perfection. We ate with our hands. I ate my potatoes with the peelings still intact, and I noticed that the villagers peeled their potatoes. It was my favorite meal of the trip.

While the meal was cooking, my fellow travelers and I met the elders of the village. The elders, male and female, invited us to try on their beautifully dyed and woven dresses, ponchos, capes, and hats for photo opportunities. One of the featured photos in a past blog was me and one of the elders.

After interacting with the village elders, we went for a walk to gather plants and flowers. That was followed by a lesson on the plants used for dying wools for weaving. The flowers gathered that day became the dyes of brilliant reds, yellows, and blues from which all other colors were made. After spending a fine luncheon with the villagers, they set up a store for us to purchase handmade clothing, wraps, and hats.

What struck me most was the happiness of the people. They seemed to be quite contented. As they told us about their plans for promoting the village for tourism, which includes home-stays, I wondered if the influences that would inevitably follow would interfere with the peace they appeared to possess. I wonder how they are faring these few years later.

Thank you for reading.

Another Exciting Day in Peru

Yesterday, I introduced the topic a trip I took to Peru as part of a leadership program focused on agriculture and rural life. Our first stop was Lima, which was the central travel point to each part of our journeys across the country. So, from Lima, we departed to Chincha by bus, to Tarapoto (the jungle region), by airplane, to Cusco (the high Andean region) by plane, and back home, by plane. Those trips will be outlined in due time.

As previously mentioned, our first day included a U.S.D.A. country briefing at the U.S. Embassy with Ambassador Rose M. Likins and her staff. After the briefing and tour of the U.S. Embassy – Peru, we departed for lunch at the Casa Andina. We were fed one of Peru’s favorite dishes, chicken. We ate chicken in many dishes. This was a delicious baked chicken place atop a sautéed vegetable medley of onion, eggplant, zucchini, and sweet red pepper all lightly touched with a savory butter sauce. A baked and quartered potato accented the dish, which we washed down with Inka-Kola, a cotton-candy-flavored cola (caffeine) drink. This dish is my featured photo today.

We departed for the Corgono S. A. flour mill in Callao. It was a fascinating tour. It made me think of the sugar factory at Ayala, in the state of Morellos, in Mexico where very old equipment was handled with the most care and “babied” to get the most out of it. Similar to that sugar factory, the flour mill in Callao ran three shifts per day, and one shift was set for maintenance of the milling machinery and equipment. Otherwise, the grain went through all of the steps that one might imagine in any flour mill. Before the tour, we were asked to wear long pants, no open-toed shoes, and to bring no cameras. Apparently, I didn’t take copious notes as I look back to my journal. I do remember great pride that each person had in his work at the mill. It was very loud, and there were no women employed on that day. One wondered if that was the rule for this mill. I neglected to ask.

After the flour mill tour, we boarded two buses to Chincha Province. Our bus journey was along the coast line running south from Lima. Interestingly, the coast line was dotted with what looked like chicken houses. Remember, Peru eats a lot of chicken. Also memorable was lots of eating establishments named for their proprietors: Restaurant Betty, Restaurant Oscar, Restaurant Wilbur, etc. I delighted in the entrepreneurial spirit of the Peruano (How they refer to themselves. We had been saying, “Peruvians’). We stopped for snacks at a gas station along the way. One could buy a bag of puffed corn, sweet potato chips, or lima bean “nuts” (similar to Corn Nuts) with a bottle of beer. That was interesting, so most everyone availed themselves of the opportunity. Our scheduled two-hour bus ride took a bit longer as one our buses had a flat tire. I didn’t mind. It gave us time to get out for a look about. We watched automobiles and “Moto-Taxis” whiz by. The salt-filled air was comfortable, and many aromas arose in the evening air.

We made it to our hotel in Chincha that evening. We cleaned up and stayed in for dinner at the hotel. We ate lovely chicken or beef dishes and drank Pisco Sours. We were first introduced to the Pisco Sour when we had visited the Embassy of Peru in Washington, D.C. the previous year.

I hope you found this story interesting. Thank you for reading my blog.

A day in the lives of refugee and other immigrant families settling into new cultures

In this text, I have borrowed from myself. I was attempting to write a white paper to help educators better understand the students in their classrooms. I think it’s always best to back up and start at the beginning to understand a journey.

Why do people emigrate? That is, what makes a family leave its own country and venture into an unknown land, in many cases, across oceans? In most cases, this movement is considered a “Forced Migration”, which is displacement because of persecution, armed conflict, generalized violence, human rights violations, natural or environmental disaster, famine, ineffectual government, or lack of financial opportunities (Baker, 2014; Goetz, & Rupasingha, 2007). Often times, the process of migrating is dangerous and may take up to 10 years with many stops along the way (Salgado de Snyder, 2007). Humans have always migrated, and it, likely, never will stop because of constant changes in governments and other political policies, food supplies, societal mainstream notions, and religious views.

For the past 25 years, immigrants of all statuses, have been part of my daily life living in Southwest, Kansas, both professionally and personally. I’ve worked with Southeast Asian and African refugees. I’ve worked with immigrants from all of the Americas (Meso, Central, South and North (I call them economic refugees), and with immigrants who come with professional careers from India, Mexico, Peru, Philippines, China, Africa, Brazil, the Caribbean, Canada, and different parts of Europe. It is an enriching experience to learn from those who come from other backgrounds.

All the immigrants who have come to Kansas in the past 30 years have one thing in common. They’ve come to the United States to seek better ways of lives. Lives without conflict and strife. Lives filled with hopes for their futures. While their stories of how they arrived on the shores or across the borders into the U.S. vary, there are common denominators in the challenges of which they face. The greatest challenge, possibly, is that of acculturation. That is, fitting into a new land, learning the folkways and mores of the people, and understanding how their own cultures either blend or clash with the “mainstream”. They do all this while trying to learn a livelihood for their families’ survival and hoping to move to a place of thriving in their lives. There are many struggles and challenges of acculturating to new lives in new cultures. Granted, the Canadians with whom I’ve worked don’t have as many challenges because of a common language and European ancestry as the U.S. mainstream. However, the most obviously “different” immigrants do have challenges. For example, these are some of the question and comments that I hear along the way:

How and where do our children go to school?
Is there a place for me to learn English?
Where do we get an identification and address immigration status?
What are rules for driving a car?
Where do we get the foods of our traditions?
What are the rules for schools regarding age of entry, immunizations, school readiness?
Where do we find child care provider for our children?
Where do we find a doctor?
Is there public transportation?
Are we safe to walk to where we need to go?
“We are starting all over, and I need to purchase items for my home, again, and I don’t know anybody, so I have to make new friends, too.”

The United States is heading toward a demographic where there will be no one majority of population by the year 2040 (World Bank). My observation is that this notion strikes fear in people.

After nearly 30 years of living, working, and playing alongside the immigrants who have come these past three decades, my observation is that they have not come to colonize these lands and the mainstream. They (immigrants) have come for better lives for their children. Historically, most are the victims of colonization on their lands of origins. If you get the opportunity, hear their stories, share their foods, understand their laughter, and most importantly, empathize with the fears that pushed them out of their home soils.

Thank you for reading.

Human Ecology and Geography

I work on a campus that has a College of Human Ecology and a department of geography in the College of Arts and Sciences. I often wonder if the two have ever noticed that their work is quite similar, especially when one looks at their descriptions of studying people interacting with their environments? Well, I love the disciplines of human ecology and geography!

People fascinate me, and, given their environments, they act and re-act differently. I like to study such things. I posted this picture of me visiting our Nation’s Capital (standing here in front of the Capitol!). Next time you’re in Washington DC, go to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian. It’s one of my favorite places on earth. When you enter the museum, there is an amphitheater on your left, and a grill/cafe on the right. In the seating area for the cafe, there are marvelous photographs of varying groups including Alaskan Natives. My favorite picture is of three Alaskan Native boys, about eight years of age, gathered around a white granite ware, sort of, tub from which they are happily eating. They are shoe-less and have the happiest grins on their faces. I took a photograph of that photograph, and I use it in my power point slides when I’m teaching about intercultural relationship building. I did not show it here, because there could be some copyright restrictions. When I ask workshop attendees to look at the photo then give me their impressions, I’ve noticed that middle class people will give me descriptions of “dirty”, “poor”, and “unkempt”. Out of 23 times of presenting this workshop, perhaps, three people have noticed the absolutely delightful expressions on the boys’ faces. I know that the Alaskan Native population does not have a word for “stress”. When you study “simple” versus “complex” societies (the U.S. is a complex society, and many populations (Native to their lands) are often called “simple” societies). Simple societies are less likely to live stressful lives, because they work to support a collective and are not caught up in acquiring things (read Jared Diamond’s, Guns, Germs, and Steel).

From a human ecology point of view, our environments determine how we live, how we meet our daily living needs, and those things influence how we develop as humans. From the time we are born, our environments (family, church, schools, politics) influence our development of our preferences, our knowledge, our traditions, our points-of-view, and our paths in life (Bronfenbrenner). Our geography has that influence, too. I grew up in Colorado, in the mountains. Being in the outdoors and living in high altitude determined how we dressed and in what sorts of activities we engaged. If one lives in a hunter-gatherer society, then one works in a subsistence culture, which tend to be collective communities (where everyone works for the common good). If one lives in a capitalistic society, it tends to be more individualistic. The gaps in wealth tend to be wider in a complex society than a simple society. In terms of simple and complex societies, one is not better than the other. They are different. If simple societies were left alone (not colonized), they functioned quite well on their own. It does terrible things to the psyche when people in a simple society are told they are wrong (“uncivilized, savage, heathens, etc.), and that “wrongness” carries through to the subsequent generations. From my point of view, the effects of colonization has not been good for simple societies. It’s caused many disparities among the colonized people, and it’s developed environments of inequalities.

I think I will come back to this, because I have not developed my thoughts completely. Besides, my granddaughter wants a bedtime story! Thank you for reading.

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