Global Vantage Issue 11 - "Conflict"

GLOBAL VANTAGE

Global Journal Project A Shared Voice

Life and the Troubles 15 streets of Belfast On the Theme - Page 2

Hostage in Iran

Imprisoned by Khomeini On the Theme - Page 5

Riots in Ukraine

Photos from the frontlines On the Theme - Page 6

Moving an NFL Franchise

Overcoming sports conflict Experiences - Page 26

Conflict

ISSUE 11 || AUTUMN 2015

Editor’s Note BY CAITLIN BOWEN, PRS 2016, EXECUTIVE EDITOR

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n our basic, elementary learnings of creative writing, we are taught to present conflict in every scene. We are taught that conflict is action, and only with action can we interest our audiences. Beyond even this, we are taught that conflict must always be resolved. In growing up however, we learn that conflict is much more than that. Even with just 17 years behind me, I know this well. My recent experience of conflict lay in regard to my personal beliefs and my loyalty to family. My father was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps, and although I have grown up a politically attentive and outspoken liberal, it was not until this year that I consciously felt caught between my allegiances. This year, after an in-depth study of the 2003 conflict and Iraq War prior, I have decided to no longer decry the war. I refuse to dishonor what my father and others like him have done for this country. I believe that our perspective in hindsight is far different than it was on September 11, 2001 and that those who have switched their position on the war may have forgotten this. At this time, we can do little more than learn from it.

Conflict is a natural experience, and whether internal or external, it is something we will all endure. In choosing “Conflict” as the theme for Issue 11, we recognized the current situation of not only our world, but also ourselves. In doing so, we decided that conflict is not inherently bad—its goodness or badness depends on how it is handled. We explored different outlets from which our authors could share their relevant experiences, and in doing so worked to create one of our most diverse and interesting issues yet. In its conception, we recognized the strength in both words and in photography, specifically as a means of expression for thoughts and feelings often difficult to express. With photo stories from Ukraine, Vietnam, and Mali, we provide more personal perspectives to issues widely publicized but not known intimately. In an exclusive, anonymous interview with a woman born in Northern Ireland, we are able to explore the Troubles through the eyes of a child. By narrative and reflection, the interviewee considers not only the conflict itself, but also explores its influence on her life today.

Beyond our “On the Theme” section, more subtle, complex conflicts exist. Articles by Theodore and Evangelia Laliotis discuss growing up in Greece during the Italian and German occupation. Although they are about conflict in the most traditional sense of the word, the Laliotis’ stories are enhanced by personal narrative in which they analyze and discuss the divides that formed within their community and reflect on how they were shaped by these experiences. In a less traditional realm of conflict, Jim Bailey, former Executive Vice President of the Cleveland Browns and Baltimore Ravens, recounts overcoming conflict in the sports world. Bob Harris discusses overcoming unfamiliarity, which he sees as the modern-day traveler’s biggest challenge. And Geri Portnoy describes her passion for peace and the potential for using lessons from yoga to resolve conflict. It is with great pleasure that we present to you Issue 11 of Global Vantage.

Staff Editorial Staff: Business Staff: Editors-in-Chief: Brian Chekal, CCA 2015 Chief Executive Officers: Peter Lillian, CCA 2015 Nicholas Marr, PRS 2016 Anthony Oliverio, PRS 2016 Executive Editors: Caitlin Bowen, PRS 2016 Chief Financial Officers: Gabriel Piscitello, PRS 2016 Colin Loyd, CCA 2015 Jonathan Prvanov, PRS 2016 Layout Director: Mina Fardeen, PRS 2016 Chief Operating Officers: Sam Dutt, CCA 2015 Web Editors: Derek Albosta, PRS 2016 Vincent Wang, PRS 2016 Garrett Conway, PRS 2016 Marketing Director: Lauren Lipman, PRS 2016 Editors: Anurag Aiyer, PRS 2018 Staff: Adrian Agresti, PRS 2017 George Biddle, PRS 2018 Ziad Badr, PRS 2017 Patrick Bjornstad, PRS 2018 Adam Bell, PRS 2018 Gavin Conway, PRS 2018 Dana Carney, PRS 2017 Weston Corbeil, PRS 2018 Alex Gorman, PRS 2016 Mina Fardeen, PRS 2016 Keara Keitel, PRS 2018 Katy Laliotis, CCA 2017 Kyle Ramsay, PRS 2017 Noah Larky, CCA 2017 Jack Uchitel, PRS 2018 Liana Merk, CCA 2017 Zachary Weber, PRS 2016 Tanner Muirhead, PRS 2016 Connie Yu, PRS 2018 Beckett Quinney, CCA 2015 Nicholas Rosetta, PRS 2018 Rahul Saripalli, PRS 2016 Vincent Wang, PRS 2016 Faculty Points of Contact: KGSA Journalism Club Staff: CCA: Tanner Kortman Liaison: Asha Jaffar, KGSA (tanner.kortman@sduhsd.net) Production Advisor: Istabua Hamza, KGSA KGSA: Richard Teka Human Resources Advisor: Habiba Andeyi, KGSA (KGSA.teka@gmail.com) Marketing Advisor: Beaturice Awino, KGSA PRS: Christopher Burman (cburman@pacificridge.org)

Inside GLOBAL VANTAGE ON THE THEME

ISSUE 11 || AUTUMN 2015

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The World as 15 Streets: A Child’s Perspective of the Troubles, interview by Gabriel Piscitello A Girl in the Slums by Rachel Stacy A Hostage in My Own Country by Hossein Salimi Violent Clashes in Kiev by Jerome Sessini Conflict in Mali by Ferhat Bouda

EXPERIENCES

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Growing Up on the Island of Rhodes During World War II by Evangelia Laliotis Growing Up in a Greek Village During World War II by Ted Laliotis Keep the Dream Alive by Jim Bailey What We Take for Granted: Why I Spend New Year’s Eve Around the World by Thomas Dixon

ACROSS LONGITUDES

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The East Meets the West: An Interview with Sandeep Das by Vincent Wang Strength of a Woman by Cynthia Amondi The Girl by Gloria Mwaniga I Am Immaculate by Immaculate Wandera Kibera and Its Problems by Zubenda Bakari

COMMENTARY

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Changing the World Means Being Changed by Bob Harris Nature Deficit by Andrea Juskaitis Oriental Express by Paola Núñez Solorio The Yoga Formula for Dealing wtih Conflict by Geri Portnoy

POETRY

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Divided by Rachel Wells The Best Place to Be by Gladys Masista The Plant and the Women by Warda Yusuf

NEWS & UPDATES

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Social Action Project Update by Anthony Oliverio The Last Word by Liana Merk (On the cover) An Orthodox priest blesses protesters at a barricade. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos. Photo story on page 6.

On the Theme: Conflict PERSPECTIVE STRUGGLE PERSECUTION UPRISING COMPLEXITY

The interviewee discusses daily life and the separate cultures of the Troubles. Rachel Stacy considers problems in Kibera, Kenya and the importance of hope. Hossein Salimi recalls his imprisonment in Iran following Khomeini’s rise. Jerome Sessini’s photos capture the recent riots in Kiev, Ukraine. Ferhat Bouda shares his experience photographing life in Mali during the conflict.

The World as 15 Streets: A Child’s Perspective of the Troubles AN INTERVIEW BY GABRIEL PISCITELLO Editor’s Note: Due to the sensitive nature of the content of this interview, the interviewee has chosen to remain anonymous. The interviewee was born in 1963 England to an Irish Catholic father and an English Protestant mother. Her mother died of meningitis in 1964, leaving her father and grandparents to care for her.The interviewee’s family moved to Belfast, Northern Ireland in 1969, where she lived until 1974 when she joined her father in Birmingham, England (who had moved there a year earlier).While she lived in Belfast, the ethno-nationalist conflict known as “the Troubles” was at its height. Between 1968 and 1998, nationalist disputes between the unionist and republican populations of the territory resulted in violence and increased societal tension.While not inherently sectarian, the conflict elevated religious tension among Protestant unionists and Irish Catholic republicans across Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland, and the United Kingdom. The interviewee now lives in San Diego with her family. The following is an edited transcript of our conversation:

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an you describe the area that you lived in?

I lived in a central area of Belfast. The street that we lived on was called Hillman Street, and it was in between two primary, arterial roads. One was a Catholic main street and the other was a Protestant main street. The Catholic street was called New Lodge Road, which was a hub of activity for the Irish Republican Army. Opposite that was a Protestant main street called Duncairn Gardens. It was a highly populated, inner city area and a big activity point for the Troubles.

During the height of the conflict, what was daily life like for you and your family? At the time, I would not have said that I was there during the height of the conflict. I saw it through the eyes of a child as I started living there at six or seven and stayed there until I was 11. My perspective was very much based on 15 streets. That was my world. Although there was a lot of activity from the British military (British soldiers were present 24 hours a day––they were armed, wore bullet-

Children in Belfast during the 1970s. Photo courtesy of Jeffrey Blankfort.

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proof jackets and would travel down the streets that we lived in throughout the course of the day, going from doorway to doorway) the soldiers would sort of have a friendly relationship with the community that I lived in, but it was always a hostile relationship from our side. When a soldier would say to you, “Are you alright there?” or, “How’s your bike?” you were not supposed to speak to them or interact because of the community pressure. You were told as a child not talk to soldiers. Everyday life did not feel any different from living here [San Diego] because, in a way, you do not know what you do not know. I did have an experience that made me realize that life was different in Ireland than in England when we first arrived [in Belfast]. I traveled over with my father and my grandparents. The house that we were going to be renting was not ready, so we stayed with family that was just a couple of doors down from us. There were about ten family members there to welcome us. Partway through the gathering, as the grown-ups were having a drink and the kids were having lemonade, I heard this popping noise. All the doors were closed, one of the family members that was playing the piano stopped, all the lights were turned off, and everyone had to lie on the floor. I

Children in Belfast during the 1970s. Photos courtesy of Jeffrey Blankfort. remember laughing because I thought, “Why are we all lying on the floor?” It was just this bizarre situation, and I remember thinking, “It’s a game.” Then I suddenly realized that the window at the end of the room had a board in front of it. I asked my grandmother, “Why is the boarding up there?” She replied, “That’s so they don’t break the windows.” There was obviously some sort of firefight that went on outside, so we all had to keep our heads down. After that stopped about 40 minutes later, we all got up and started playing the piano, all the lights went back on, and it was as if nothing had happened. That was my first night there, and that was when I realized that things were different in that respect, but overall, it just felt very normal. I do not ever remember feeling afraid or intimidated in all the time that I was there. How did the conflict impact the way that you interacted with your community? Furthermore, did you have any relationships with Protestants, and if so, how were these affected by the turmoil? I had absolutely no contact with the Protestants. You could never have any

contact with the Protestants. I knew the word “Protestant,” but I had no idea what it meant. Likewise, I knew that “Catholic” was a religious term, but I did not understand the difference. All I knew was that there were very clear, segregated areas where we lived and where somebody else lived. You were never allowed to cross the line and go into a Protestant area. Many of the Catholic and Protestant areas of Belfast had lines of demarcation based on where the soldiers would put a checkpoint. For example, immediately across the street that I lived on was a Protestant area, Duncairn Gardens (the main arterial road that I spoke about earlier), and there was a checkpoint with a turnstile where the soldiers would check anybody going in or out of there. Now, it used to be that there was not very much activity because it was between a Protestant and a Catholic area, so it was more to manage the break between the two areas. In a lot of the other checkpoints, you would have a Catholic area where they would just do a stop-and-search. You would just be walking down the street and they would stop you, look in all your bags, search all your pockets, and you had to comply. I am sure that they probably had a similar sort

of thing in the Protestant areas, but I do not know for sure because I never actually went in a Protestant area. It was drummed into us that as Catholics, you did not cross that line; that is their area and this is ours. Well, you might be able to cross the line if there was not a checkpoint, but you would be taking your life into your hands if you did. Not to mention you probably would not come out the other side. You were saying that because you had an English accent, going to school was very difficult… It was difficult because the English were seen as the enemy if you were a Catholic. The Irish Republican Army (the IRA) wanted a free Ireland and wanted to be free of the monarchy in England. As a Catholic child being dropped into school, it was a really difficult situation for me because I was viewed as the enemy. It probably took about six months for me to drop my heavy English accent and be broad. It took about a year to be accepted in school. Students there ostracized me and were suspicious of me. I was bullied, but I learned to stand up for myself. I used to say, “I’m a Catholic like you are!”

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How old were you when you realized the magnitude of the conflict and its broad influence on world history? Probably about 25! When I see on television the terrible conflicts [going on in the world], at first I think, “Oh my God, those poor children!” But children are so resilient. I was about nine years of age when we would run five streets away from where I lived to an urban park. There was one particular instance when we were playing we heard gunfire about 10 streets away. Then you would hear the sound coming a little bit closer. When the shooting was, perhaps, on the next street over, we would say, “Okay, let’s go!” and run back home. I think those sorts of memories remind me [of the magnitude]. When I see the photographs now in the newsreel, I think, “Hold on a minute, I was in that park!” How did growing up in a war zone influence the decisions that you have made throughout your life? It helps put things in perspective. It is now that I am an adult and a parent that I understand [the magnitude of the conflict]. It has affected my life because I now have a greater understanding of how the human spirit, tenacity, and will to live can overcome a lot. We are very resilient, children in particular. Are there any specific anecdotes that highlight your experience with the conflict? There are two experiences that stand out. I was around nine years old and playing ball with a couple of other children in the street. We saw a line of people outside one of the houses. We were all just giggling and joined in the queue, waiting, not knowing what it was all about. We walked into a room where there was a box that everyone was standing very somberly. The box was an open coffin for a young man for whom they were having an open casket ceremony. I do not remember anything about him except that he had a suit on and his hands were clasped together and holding rosary beads as though in prayer. Also, I noticed that hands were slightly discolored. As I came up closer to him, I could see that it looked like there was a hole in his hand that had been filled, and he was almost painted. He was about 18 years old. This young man had been very heavily made-up, and he had bruises on his face and on his hands. I had never seen a dead body before. Afterwards, I remember speaking to my dad about it. I was quite a lot older then and he recanted the story to me

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Children in Belfast during the 1970s. Photos courtesy of Jeffrey Blankfort. of what happened. The man and his girlfriend were going to church and they were caught taking a shortcut that Sunday morning. They should not have been going down a Protestant area, and they were badly beaten. The young man was crucified while his girlfriend was murdered. A couple of months after this incident, we were playing and I remember looking at the Protestant side. I remember seeing a queue, just the same as the queue that I went into on the other side of the street, and I have no doubt that one of the paramilitary organizations had done the same to some of the ones over there. That family was victimized as much as the other side. I also remember one instance from when I was 10 years old. I was playing in the park I mentioned earlier with my friends and we heard gunfire. We started running from the street that went from New Lodge Road to Duncairn Gardens. I ended up running down a street on my own. There was a heavy amount

of gunfire and the soldiers were doing their patrol. As I was running as fast as I could along the street, there was soldier not too far in front of me. I remember glancing up and seeing this woman right on the other side of the street pull out a gun. The soldier that was in front of me came around, and she shot him in the head right in front of me. I was literally 10 feet behind him, and it lifted him up. As he landed on the ground in front of me, a woman in this grocery store grabbed me just threw herself on top of me. After the gunfire ceased, the woman had a white flannel with which she was just wiping my face as I was crying. Later, when I was home and sitting in the bath, the water in the bath just turned red. It was completely filled with blood and I realized that I was covered in this soldier’s blood. It was a surreal experience, and the next day I got up and went to school. Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

A Girl in the Slums BY RACHEL STACY

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iving life without hope is like living in a hole without anything that is of importance. Girls and boys in Kibera are living without hope in their lives. It is a routine because most have experienced problems––they are forced to get pregnant early and also they are expected to get married sometimes. I have a neighbor who got married when she was in fifth grade. It was because she was forced by her parents just because they had no place to take her. They were broke, had no money to pay for her school fees and other needs. As this moment she has three children. She works in a club as a waitress but I believe that she has the potential to be someone better in life. That is the life that girls go through if the people responsible take no helpful action. Written at Kibera Girls’ Soccer Academy

A Hostage in My Own Country

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BY HOSSEIN SALIMI

was born in the city of Arak, Iran in 1932. We were a middle class family of four brothers and one sister. I was the youngest of my siblings. When I was eight years old, World War II began. Unfortunately, Iran participated and was constantly occupied by U.S., Russian, and British forces. My own city, Arak, helped the forces fight against Germany at great cost. The city was filled with soldiers and the sky with airplanes. It was a scary time for everyone. The economy crashed and people were in a very bad situation.

It was surreal––a bad dream. After 15 days in captivity, the guards transferred us to a big prison by the name of Qasr. It was the biggest in Tehran. We had nothing. No radio, no TV. We did not know what was happening outside the prison walls. There were many of us there. Every night they would take a few of us for a 12-minute interrogation. Not many people returned. It is hard to believe how often someone died. There were no visits, either. Nobody had any way of contacting his or her family. For two weeks, my wife and children did not know if I was still breathing or not. Then they dragged me in for questioning. I was forced to keep my eyes shut. I was “unworthy” of seeing the person who interrogated me. They then told me that the next day was visit day. He said to me, “If your wife or relatives do come to see you, say goodbye to them. They will not see you again.”

I decided to put all of my focus into school. I tried to be the best of the class and ignore the chaos around me. By the time I graduated, I was number one in my class. They awarded me a medal and I then moved to Tehran and enrolled in the Police Academy. Putting my past behind me, I started working in the police force. After 20 years, I retired and started working in a taxi company. Two years later, I became the director of the company with 500 employees Believe me, that night, I nearly plucked out half of my eyebrows. It was the and 20,000 members. only thing that kept me sane. I had to tell myself that I had done nothing wrong. Why, why, why! After that night, I was in prison for one more In 1979, the demonstrations started. The Islamic movement filled year. They did not let me see my family. I just waited for somebody to call the streets of Tehran and other major Iranian cities. The rebels me to execute me. I was stuck in a cell with 24 people. It was a terrible rallied support against the King of Iran and praised their leader situation, and we had all lost hope. Whenever a guard came to the cell, I Khomeini as the true leader of their country. The situation went thought that I was next! But after my year was up, they told me I could from bad to worse. I could feel the tension build among my fellow leave. They expected me to stand up and walk out of the cell that tortured citizens, and we hated seeing our good leader be criticized for me for one year. things he did not do. A week later, after reuniting with my family, I got a letter that called me On February 12, 1979, the dissent boiled over. The King of Iran was to Islamic Court. They said that on February 21, 1979, I had caused rebel forced out of his frightened country and the new leader, Khomeini, activity with five of my friends. They were accusing me of something began to arrest people of high ranking. They did not want anyone impossible. When I went to court, the three clergymen stated that they of former power to threaten their new government. They were even had a picture of me on a roof shooting the resistance. They claimed ruthless and often put down people without a trial or judgment. that I was fighting for the King and rebelling against Khomeini when really On February 17, eight members of the Revolutionary Guard came I was in their jail. They refused to show me the picture. I told them that this to my home, blindfolded me, and took me to prison. They dragged was physically impossible––I could not have been in jail and on the roof at me to the Prison Yard and began to yell at me. Because of my the same time. After checking their records, they decided to let me go. I former status as colonel in the police force and my new director was finally free. position at a big company, I was deemed a threat to them. I was pushed against a wall and forced to say that what I had done in the My wife and I moved to America following the trail and reunited with past was wrong. The main guard said they would count to three our three children. We now live a happy life, but I will never forget my and then shoot me. One guard behind him then said they should experience. first ask their Imam (Khomeini) what to do. They already had four Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy other prisoners who could be useful later. So, they brought me to editors a prison cell with the other four prisoners. We shared our stories, but most of all our disbelief that this could all be happening to us.

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Violent Clashes in Kiev BY JEROME SESSINI

UKRAINE. Kiev. February 19, 2014.Anti-government protesters clash with police and hold barricades in Euromaidan Square. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos.

UKRAINE. Kiev. On February 20th, unidentified snipers open fired on unarmed protesters as they advacned on Instituska Street. According to an official source, 70 protesters were shot dead. Ukrainian riot police claimed that several policeman were wounded or shot dead by snipers as well. An unofficial source said that snipers opened fire on the police and protesters at the same time in order to provoke both camps. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos. 8 ON THE THEME

UKRAINE. Kiev. February 19, 2014. Anti-government protesters remain mobilized against riot police and hold barricades in Euromaidan Square. The day before, at least 18 people were killed, including seven policeman. Protesters launch molotov cocktails with a makeshift cannon. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos.

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UKRAINE. Kiev. On February 20th, unidentified snipers opened fire on unarmed protesters as they advanced on Instituska Street. According to an official source, 70 protesters were shot dead. Ukrainian riot police claied that several policeman were wounded or shot dead by snipers as well. An unofficial source said that snipers opened fire on the police and protesters at the same time in order to provoke both camps. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos. 10 ON THE THEME

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UKRAINE. Kiev. On February 20th, unidentified snipers opened fire on unarmed protesters as they advanced on Instituska Street. According to an official source, 70 protesters were shot dead. Ukrainian riot police claimed that several policeman were wounded or shot dead by snipers as well. An unofficial source said that snipers opened fire on the police and protesters at the same time in order to provoke both camps. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos.

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UKRAINE. Kiev. February 19, 2014. Anti-goverment protesters clash with police and hold barricades in Euromaidan Square. Photo courtesy of Jerome Sessini/Magnum Photos.

Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

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Conflict in Mali BY FERHAT BOUDA

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uring my previous travels to Northern Mali, I would first fly into a neighbouring country on the border and try to find passersby who could help me cross the border. Most of the time, these people were drug traffickers or were selling cigarettes, gas or weapons. They were Africans trying to get to Europe. So, I’d often leave by myself. I’ve never been hired by a magazine and I have had to pay for everything myself. But I didn’t have a choice because there was no other way to get into northern Mali and I had the obligation to show what was happening in the region! It’s often very risky to leave with these people––the biggest risks are the kidnappings that happen in the region! But to take the series of photos shown here, I left from Bamako. It’s the only trip I’ve made

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with a colleague, a fellow photographer. I went with another person to share the expenses. The trip by taxi, or “fixeur,” costs a lot of money in areas of conflict. We arrived in Bamako and it was the first time I was able to return to Kidal since the beginning of the conflict. I’m interested in this conflict because I had worked with the Berbers and the Touaregs, an ethnic branch of the Berbers. It was also my goal to work in the area. I wanted to continue working with the female Touareg fighters with whom I had started to work during my first trip. Why Kidal? After the French Army passed through at the beginning of 2013, the Islamists left northern Mali.Timbouktou and Gao were won back by the Malian army. Of course, the French Army and the MINUSMA (United Nations peacekeepers) were present at their side. But the Touareg rebels (The National Movement for the Liberation of the Azawad) share Kidal with the Malian army despite the fact

that they are enemies. The rebels are in a “restricted” zone, while the French Army and the MINUSMA maintain peace in the city between the two enemies and keep the Islamists away! I am interested in Kidal at this time because I want to see and document the lives of civilians in this conflict zone. Unfortunately, it’s hard to do this in a time of war! Most of the time we have to choose a side, either the rebels or the Malian army! It took us almost 10 days to reach Kidal, even though it’s a trip that normally takes three days. When we got to Gao, we had to stay there because the route was dangerous and our driver didn’t want to run the risk of traveling with just us. We tried to travel with the U.N. peacekeepers and the French Army, but unfortunately nobody wanted to take on the responsibility of travelling with us because on the road in Mali, anything can happen! The only option that was left for us was to wait for the Malian army con-

(Above) The entrance to Kidal is shown as we return to Bamako with the Malian Army. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda. voy to leave and accompany them. After waiting for a week in Gao, the convoy finally left. After two days on the road, we arrived in Kidal! 30 minutes after we arrived at the rebel Touaregs’ camp, they told us the bad news: two French journalists, Ghislaine Dupont and Claude Verlon from Radio France International had been abducted and killed. They knew the area and were specialists in the region. It is nearly impossible to work in Kidal and it’s even forbidden to go outside. Before the assassination of two colleagues, we had planned for the Touaregs to help us work in the city. They would accompany us and hide their weapons––they do not have the right to go outside with their weapons. But the situation was very complicated, thus they didn’t want to risk doing this with us in Kidal! We decided to go further north. Of course

the further north you go, the greater the risk! But we didn’t have a choice. We were there to work, so we were accompanied by the rebels up north to document their daily lives. We had hoped in the meantime that the situation in Kidal would change and allow us to work in the city! We had hoped that in the meantime, the situation in Kidal had changed. But when we returned to the city several days later, it had gotten even worse. There was no chance to get our work done and due to the state of emergency the city was in, nobody would take the risk to drive us out to Bamako. The only way out was by plane, either operated by the UNO or by the French Army. It required some intervention by our agency but finally they got us on a French Army plane back home. Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

Ferhat Bouda was born in Kabylie, Algeria and lives as a freelance photographer in Frankfurt, Germany. In 2000, he left his country in order to study film in France, “so that one day, his grandmother might be able to watch films in her own language.” In 2001 Ferhat, then living in Paris, found a camera by chance and started to develop his passion for photography. Since this time it has been his major focus to take pictures of socially marginal groups and minorities. He is attracted by his country of origin and by regions of other Berber or nomadic tribes such as the Touareg or the Mongols. He frequently returns there in order to help to draw the attention to the problems and the needs of the people in these parts of the world. To make his pictures accessible to a broader public, he has been working with the German Press Agency (dpa) since 2010.

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(Above) A picture of a road in Kidal. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda. (Below) MINUSMA military at the entrance to the city of Kidal. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda.

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The conflict has had profound consequences on the lives of children in Kidal. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda.

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Pictured here are the Touareg rebels’ barracks. They do not have the right to go out with arms. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda.

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(Above) After having heard a gunshot, a MNLA rebel prepares himself in case of an attack. Despite their confinement, the rebels are always in an alert state of mind. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda.

The French Army patrols the streets of Kidal. Photo courtesy of Ferhat Bouda.

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Experiences ADVERSITY RESOLVE ADVENTURE

Evangelia and Ted Laliotis discuss their childhoods on the Island of Rhodes during World War II. Jim Bailey recounts overcoming conflict in the sports world. Thomas Dixon explains his adventures on New Year’s Eve around the world.

Growing Up on the Island of Rhodes During World War II BY EVANGELIA LALIOTIS “History is philosophy teaching by example.” - Thucydides

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istory tells us that wars begin, mostly, for expansionism, and so did WWII. It resulted in the devastation of many countries, the loss of lives, and immeasurable human suffering. At its the end, there were no winners. I was born on the Island of Rhodes––it is part of a cluster of 12 islands, the Dodecanese Islands, located on the Eastern part of the Aegean Sea. The Islands were sold by the Byzantine State to the Knights of St. John in the year 1303. In 1522, the Ottoman Empire conquered Rhodes, and in 1912, following the Italian-Turkish war, the Dodecanese Islands were given to the Italians by the Turks as part of the war settlement. Thus, the Islands became an Italian territory. I feel rather special as my island remained Greek in its spirit, beliefs , language, religion, and customs after so many centuries of foreign occupation. It was a struggle for my ancestors to survive financially and to remain true to their Greek ethnicity. My parents learned how to cope with adversities from their parents and their parents from their own parents, and so on. In order to survive, they had to learn to keep a low profile, they had to be friendly and accommodating to the different occupiers, but at the same time, secretly they observed our Greek Orthodox religion and our culture. The Greek Orthodox Church played a major role in the successful preservation of our Greek-ness through so many generations. When WWII came to my island, we already knew how to live with very little and how to make additional adjustments. I remember how little I had as a tiny child. No toys, no dolls, no new clothes, not much to eat. But I also remember how loved and secure I felt in my home. My

This record player was the only source of entertainment in the Laliotis household in Epidaurus, Greece.

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numerous friends shared similar experiences to mine. Our older siblings read books to us and taught us how to play with seashells, round sea pebbles, how to explore the surrounding small hills and collect snails, oregano, wild fruit, and other fun things essential for our survival. When the bombings started, first by the English because we were under Italy, and then by the Germans as they wanted to occupy our land, it was a very scary time. It was equally scary when the German army occupied Rhodes. The Germans took all the food from the markets in order to feed their army. They imprisoned and killed many local people. For about three months, famine was widespread and people in the cities died due to lack of food. By then, we were living in our country home and my parents were selling all the jewelry and other precious possessions for a loaf of bread and a piece of meat so that us kids could survive. The Red Cross and UNRRA (United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration) came and brought various food essentials that averted total loss of life on the island. As we all know, one of Germany’s objectives was to eliminate Jews. Rhodes, being at the crossroads of trade and commerce between East and West, had a substantial Jewish community living there for many centuries. When the Germans came to Rhodes and started rounding up Jews to send them to concentration camps, my father, taking a great risk, and against my mother’s advice as she was concerned about her children’s lives, provided refuge to a Jewish family until they were able to obtain secret passage to Turkey via a fishing boat. If the Germans had found out what my father had done, our lives would have been in great jeopardy. At the end of WWII the Dodecanese Islands were finally united with Motherland Greece. The official ceremonies of the annexation took place in April of 1947. All the inhabitants of the island from the various villages came to the City of Rhodes where the Greek flag was raised while everyone sang the Greek National Anthem. We were all kneeling in the streets and crying. This was an overwhelming experience that still brings awe and tears to everyone who was lucky enough to have participated in this extraordinary event. Finally, the Islands became part of Greece and we became Greek nationals. What were the effects on the life of a little girl that lived and witnessed so many adversities? It is difficult to forget the sacrifices that

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(Above and below) The decaying roof tiles of the Laliotis house.

my parents made so that my older sister and I could feel secure, warm, and not hungry. It is wonderful to look back and remember the loving home that my parents made for us. They taught us a lot. But the most important lessons were to always be careful and to honor and preserve our religion and culture. The responsibility for the survival of our race fell on us. I believe that I became a flexible, resilient, and hopeful person. I can adjust well to changes and I believe that with hard work I can reach the goals I set for myself. I left Rhodes as a young woman and came to the United States to study and meet my uncles and aunts and my numerous cousins. I got a degree from UC Berkeley, and became a Social Worker in medical settings. I was a good Social Worker because I knew what it felt to be deprived, to be scared, to constantly having to make adjustments and surviving with only the bare essentials. I taught my patients and their families how to best deal

with their problems and how to best access their resources and strengths. It took a lot of hard work and commitment on my part to bring positive changes to their lives. I was blessed with the love and the values that my family instilled in me. In turn, it is with this that I made a good life for myself, and with my husband.We raised our children here in the United States and made a good loving home for them. Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy editors Evangelia Laliotis worked as a nurse at a hospital in Los Altos, CA for many years. She currently lives in Los Altos with her husband Theodore. The two of them continue to be very active members of the Greek church and the Greek community in their area.

Growing Up in a Greek Village During World War II

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BY TED LALIOTIS

was born in a rural farm and grazing area of Southern Greece, part of the Peloponnese region. It was just before Greece was attacked and finally succumbed to the fascist forces of World War II. At that time, Greece, a mountainous Mediterranean country, had a weak economy mostly consisting of land farming, livestock raising (sheep and goats), and fishing in the Mediterranean. Greece was drawn into World War II by being asked to surrender to the Italian fascist forces on October 28, 1940, after much of Europe had already been invaded and captured by the German and Italian forces. The German and Italian aggressors felt that Greece would easily surrender, but they forgot the resilience and historic heroism that Greeks had shown from ancient to medieval and modern times, resisting and fending off many aspiring conquerors. Thus, when the Italians asked Greece to surrender to their forces, Greece answered with a resounding “no.” When the Italians attempted to invade Greece, they were driven back by the heroic Greeks on the mountains of Western Greece; the Italian Army was almost thrown in the Adriatic Sea. This unexpected Greek Resistance caused a significant delay in the schedule of the fascist forces. They were required to pull back, regroup,

and try again with the German Army in the spring of 1941. This delay of plans proved to be significant in giving time to the Western Allies to organize and eventually beat the fascist forces and win World War II. The Laliotis family consisted of about ten related households with homes at the foot of a small mountain near a natural spring and a small church sanctuary to serve our religious needs. The mountain is where the flocks of sheep and goats grazed and they were herded by my uncles and older cousins. The majority of our olive trees populated the mild hillsides. The farmland in the small valley below the mountain was where we cultivated and grew wheat, corn, and vegetable gardens for feeding our families. We also maintained chicken coops for eggs and meat, as well as stables for our horses, mules, and donkeys (which were our work animals used in farming). Thus, we had our meat from our livestock and chickens, the olive oil from our trees, the bread from wheat and corn, and our vegetables from the gardens. We also hunted for wild game on the mountain. That is what we lived and grew up with. We basically produced everything we needed to live on. World War II was a major disruption to our quaint village life. As a young boy around 5 years old, I remember the German and Italian soldiers would raid our homes as they also needed food to live on. There were no grocery stores to buy

This wall inside the Laliotis house contains portraits of the entire family.

food from so they would loot our households for bread and olive oil; they would take our chickens and any other food items we were stocking for our needs. The war encouraged the emergence of traitors among our communities. The weaker people in our communities were tempted by the German and Italian soldiers to become “informers” in exchange for favors and preferred treatment. It was very disappointing and painful to see one of my uncles become such a traitor and provide information to the soldiers about assets of friends and relatives that they may have hidden in places away from their homes in order to protect them from the soldiers. The worst part was that his actions were not something he was doing inconspicuously but he was openly walking around with the soldiers and leading them to the various hideaways. He was enjoying the power and advantage he had over the community.When the war was over and the soldiers left, this uncle, who we had nicknamed “the traitor”, disappeared to another part of the country because he knew that he could not survive in the community. We knew where he was living, but none of the relatives wanted to go after him because they felt that “self exile” was enough punishment. Greeks are notorious fighters by their very own nature because of the many conquerors and predators who pursued Greece from the ancient times through medieval times and even recent history such as WWII. As a result, Greek Resistance fighters who did not accept the dominance of the soldiers, organized themselves and took to the mountains. While they lived in the mountains, they were able to obtain arms, and they conducted raids on the German and Italian soldiers in any way they could. Sometimes they would ambush soldier contingents and sometimes they would make nightly attacks on their compounds. The Germans, in particular, were very vengeful and would respond by committing heinous crimes against innocent local communities. Luckily, such reprisals did not take place in my village or the surrounding villages. One of the worst reprisals occurred in the city of Kalavryta, at the heart of Peloponnese, where the Germans gathered all males age 13 and older, about 500 of them, lead them to a remote location away from the town, and machine-gunned them. Only 13 of them survived.

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seek the necessary funding to provide his three sons with high school as well as college education at any cost. He even had to sell some of his farm land to provide funding for our education.

Grafiti on a wall in the city. The saddest thing was the occasional violence and physical harm to members of our families if they resisted the looting by the soldiers. For that reason, in order to protect us, our parents would frequently move the children to spend the night under tents in the valley, away from the homes, if there was evidence that the soldiers may be coming on a given evening. The occupation by the German and Italian armies lasted until about 1945 when the Western Allied forces, including the United States, were able to defeat the Fascist forces and free up all of Europe, including Greece. It was about that time (1945) that I started attending grammar school. The school was lo-

cated at the larger village that was located about two miles away from our homes. My cousins and I had to walk about one hour in the morning to get to school and about one hour in the afternoon to get back home. Most children from our village and surrounding area did not attend high school after grammar school as the nearest regional high school was about 30 miles away in the larger city. After grammar school, most children would stay and work in the farm along with the rest of the family. My father, rest his soul, who had also served in World War I (circa 1918-1922) was a visionary who had decided that he would work harder and

I was the youngest child in the family, but both my older brothers and I had to leave the house at the village at the age of 12 years old in order to go rent a room in the larger city 30 miles away. We went to high school there, and then after high school, moved to Athens, which was 100 miles away, for college. My two older brothers did exactly that. One became a school teacher and the other received a degree in mathematics to eventually became a meteorologist. I did not have to go to college in Athens. I was fortunate to be invited and financially sponsored by my father’s sister, who had immigrated to the USA at an early age and was living in San Francisco, to come and attend college in the USA. I graduated from UC Berkeley in 1964 with a degree in Electrical Engineering. I met my wife, also a foreign student from Greece while at college; we got married in 1966, and the rest is history.

Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy editors

Ted Laliotis is a technology executive and entrepreneur in Silicon Valley. He is currently the President of Laliotis & Associates, a sole proprietorship in the field of venture capital and entrepreneurship. He is an IEEE Fellow, and recipient of the Ellis Island Medal of Honor.

Keep the Dream Alive BY JIM BAILEY

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his article recounts my experiences with football, but it is not necessarily a football story. It is a story about the pursuit of dreams. It is about the passion to succeed and enduring the agonies of failure. My subject is football, but it could just as easily be music, art, science, literature, or anything else that can inspire the pursuit of dreams. As a youngster my life was consumed by sports. If I wasn’t playing sports, I was watching them––football, basketball, baseball, hockey. Anything that involved athletic ability and competition, I was involved. In high school it became apparent that my best sport was football, so that is what I concentrated on.

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I studied the game and worked very hard at improving. I played well enough that I earned a scholarship to play football at Florida State University.

Ohio and devoted my energy to the practice of law. Except for playing some basketball and softball in the evenings, my involvement in sports was limited to weekend viewing.

At Florida State, however, it became obvious I was not big enough, fast enough, or skilled enough to play at the college level. I had to face the fact my football career was over. I did not lose my love of the game but assumed I was consigned to being a spectator for the rest of my life.

Then one day, the senior partner at my law firm threw a small file on my desk and told me to handle the legal work involved. Inside that file was a brief Memorandum of Understanding signed by the mayor of Cleveland, the owner of the Cleveland Indians Major League Baseball team, and Art Modell, the owner of the Cleveland Browns National Football League team. My firm represented Mr. Modell, who had agreed to take over and renovate old Cleveland Stadium, which was

I graduated from Florida State and went to law school at the University of Michigan. After law school I joined a law firm in Cleveland,

the home of both teams. My job was to form a new company to lease the stadium from the city and, in turn, lease it to the Indians and the Browns. I was in heaven. I was back, importantly involved in sports. Not just any sport, but football! And not just football, but the Cleveland Browns! It was the first team I had ever seen play and the team for which I had always rooted. And, as a bonus, I got to work with a Major League Baseball team too. Then, reality set in. The business of sports is hard work. The people involved are, by nature, very competitive and very demanding. An agreement reached at 6:00 pm was expected to be documented and on a desk at 8:00 the next morning. The guy who had to create that document didn’t have much time to sleep, and I was that guy. But even so, I loved it. I loved the fast pace. I loved the challenge. And I loved working with the characters involved, especially my client, Mr. Modell. That transaction was completed in time for the Indians home opening game in 1974. I continued to represent Mr. Modell as he undertook massive renovations of the old stadium. As walls were broken open, the condition of the building was found to be much worse than imagined, requiring a significant amount of unanticipated structural repair. Regardless, Mr. Modell lived up to his renovation obligations and the stadium was gradually updated and upgraded to keep it in usable condition. As that work wound down, the need for my legal services grew less and less. As I began to devote more time to other clients, I assumed my heady turn through professional sports was drawing to a close. Then, out of the blue, Mr. Modell approached my senior partner and said he had decided to hire a full time lawyer for the football team and asked permission to offer the job to me. Permission was granted, and I readily accepted. So, I became vice president and general counsel of the Cleveland Browns. For my first few weeks on the job, I had almost nothing to do. My office was crammed into what had been supply storeroom. I began to think I had made a huge mistake. I couldn’t imagine that Mr. Modell would continue to pay me for the small amount of work I was producing. Then the dam broke. I don’t remember what triggered the change, but seemingly overnight I went from having nothing to do

to working 12 hours a day. As time went on, I was made the Executive Vice President of the Browns, responsible for all the business, financial and legal operations of the teams. In effect I became the number two person in the organization, second only to Mr. Modell. I directed a staff of more than 100, obtained and managed all financing for the team, and negotiated player contracts. I also was responsible for all the team’s stadium and facility contracts and arrangements. In the mid 1980s, we were able to assemble a group of players and coaches that carried us to the Conference Championship game (the final step for qualifying for the Super Bowl) three out of four years. Even though we didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, we were coming close and the future looked bright. During that time, we encountered several difficult business situations, but we were able to

resolve them and concentrate on building and maintaining our football team. As the 1980s turned to the 1990s, the tide began to turn. As our football team began to falter, our business operations also faced new challenges. Because the Cleveland Indians played 82 games a year in the stadium (compared to just ten games by the Browns), the Indians were our primary tenant. But, as other Major League baseball teams were able to secure glamorous new ballparks, the Indians became dissatisfied with the antiquated Cleveland Stadium. They mounted an effort to have a new ballpark built just for the baseball team. In reality, they needed a new ballpark to remain competitive with their opponents. But, they also represented a vital economic component of our stadium operations. Their departure would leave Mr. Modell with no financial means to recover the millions of dollars he had invested into

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rehabilitating Cleveland Stadium. The city of Cleveland and the business community recognized these factors. They concluded the Indians needed a new ballpark but recognized the economic damage Mr. Modell would suffer. They also recognized that Mr. Modell would be compelled to oppose a new Indians ballpark to protect his financial interests. In order to obtain Mr. Modell’s support for a new ballpark, the mayor, the city council president and various civic leaders committed to “take care” of the concerns of Mr. Modell and the Browns after the Indians’ needs were satisfied. Mr. Modell agreed. The Cleveland community proceeded to put together the financing for a new ballpark. Surprisingly, they also decided to build, and did build, a new arena for the Cleveland Cavaliers basketball team. Completing this spending frenzy, they also built the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and a science museum, the latter two in what had been the main parking lot for the Browns at Cleveland Stadium. While all this new construction was going on for others, Mr. Modell learned that the upper deck of Cleveland Stadium was undergoing an irreversible deterioration that would cause the stadium to become unsafe for occupancy within five to eight years. Because it takes three to four years to build a new stadium, the community’s commitment to “take care” of the Browns needs escalated from a mere financial adjustment to the necessity for a new or substantially rebuilt stadium for the Browns. Otherwise, the team would be left with no place to play within the next five years. We embarked on a protracted period of negotiation with the city of Cleveland. I met regularly with officials and pursued a course of resolving the situation for the Browns. We engaged architects, contractors and building experts to come up with a viable solution. A plan for the complete renovation of the stadium was developed, but the mayor had promised to spend money he did not have. City council expressed its opposition to the project. The county officials had no interest in participating, and had suffered their own financial reverses that would have precluded any contribution from them. The governor of Ohio deemed it a “local problem” that the state could not help solve. Faced with financial ruin and literally becom-

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ing homeless in our own city, we were forced to look elsewhere for a solution.We found that solution in Baltimore, Maryland. Baltimore had lost its NFL franchise 13 years earlier when they were unable to meet that team’s stadium needs. In the hope of luring a new NFL franchise to Baltimore, the Maryland Stadium Authority had conducted a lottery to fund a new stadium. The money was in the bank. After working with Cleveland for years and never receiving a proposal, it took only 40 days to negotiate and sign a deal to move the Browns to a new stadium in Baltimore. The move was completed and the Browns became the Baltimore Ravens. It fell primarily to me to conduct all these negotiations both in Cleveland and Baltimore. While it was exciting to be involved at such a high level, it was emotionally draining. The Cleveland Browns had been my team since childhood. Our family had lived in Cleveland for 25 years. Our children were raised there, all of our friends were there, and all of that was suddenly ripped away. We became pariahs in our hometown. The passionate fans of the team knew nothing of all the broken promises. They knew only that their team had forsaken them. My dream job had become a nightmare. But we had no time to lick our wounds. We had to establish our team in a new town. There were people to hire and to teach about our systems. There were new fans to cultivate. There were stadium designs to be completed and construction projects to be undertaken. Temporary stadium arrangements had to be made. Practice and office facilities had to be procured and readied in short order. And moving and housing had to be arranged for all our staff from Cleveland. It was hectic, but we pulled it off and began the 1996 football season in our new city.

tive, I swore not to do that myself. After the ordeals of the failed negotiations in Cleveland and the re-establishment of the franchise in Baltimore, after suffering the acrimony of former friends in Cleveland, and after acclimating the organization to its new city, I felt my time had come. Once again, just like at Florida State many years before, my football career was over. My football dream had finally ended. Or so I thought. After consulting on sportsrelated projects after leaving the Ravens, I was approached to become the president of a new organization known as the United States Football League (USFL). The opportunity to get back in the game one more time––to revive the dream––was too tempting. I accepted and have since been working to create a new professional football league. The USFL will not attempt to compete with the NFL in any way. Rather, our objective is to provide an opportunity for young football players to develop their skills and prepare them to advance to the senior league. We are guided by a board comprised of several former NFL executives with a passion for providing a second chance for players who sought to play in the NFL but fell short. We understand their dream and are motivated to help them pursue it. We have dreamt it ourselves. Maybe we still do. Our slogan is “Keep the dream alive.” Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

Subsequently, Cleveland was shocked into finding the means of constructing a new football stadium and was awarded a new team. We left the team name and colors behind and the new team is now known, once again, as the Cleveland Browns. The Ravens have adapted to their new city in Baltimore and have produced successful teams. Four years after the move to Baltimore, my time with the team came to an end. When one takes a job in professional sports, it is important to realize that such jobs often come to an end. It is an intense and hard-hitting business. Having seen co-workers try to hold onto their jobs after they became ineffec-

Jim Bailey, who played football at Florida State University and earned a law degree from the University of Michigan, was the Executive Vice President of the Baltimore Ravens and Cleveland Browns. He is currently involved with creating the United States Football League (USFL).

What We Take for Granted: Why I Spend New Year’s Eve Around the World BY THOMAS DIXON

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hat surprises us the most when we go somewhere we haven’t been before?

For me, it was a matter of what I had “taken for granted” before my first time out of the United States, only to discover that I had been mistaken during said trip. Ever since, my deeply passionate curiosity about “just what I happen to be wrong about,” has lead me to attempt to travel around the world such that I may spend my New Year’s Eves in a new country each year. Now, I had written previously about my New Year’s Eve trips for the American Humanist Association (AHA). The article I wrote for them, which came out in 2013, was titled “New City, New People: A Humanist’s Travels on New Year’s Eve” and may be seen at the following link: http://americanhumanist.org/HNN/ details/2013-12-new-city-new-people-a-humanists-travels-onnew-years. The purpose of this article is to expand on that AHA article by elaborating on what I have gained from these trips, what I have been surprised and/or comforted by, and what I hope will come to me from continuing to explore the world in this way. I do encourage readers to see that earlier article as in it, I describe my rationale and motivation for going on these trips. In brief, I will share here the rules I attempt to follow when on these trips, as I had shared them within that aforementioned article: 1) I am trying to challenge my notions, my preconceptions. 2) The trips should be for a new country, a place where I have never been before at all. 3) It does not matter if the people in the country tend to celebrate NYE (of December 31 to January 1) or not. 4) Pragmatically, it must be a spot which is considered “safe enough” for me to visit. 5) I try to bounce between parts of the world, year-by-year.

had joined in an archaeology camp in Belize, and when I had made it to Barcelona over one particular summer. I am fortunate to have been able to see the world, and continue to feel ever more fortunate given how I had almost died, possibly leaving much “unseen.” It is also my feeling of connection to others that has inspired me to have these tattoos, on my left and right arms, respectively, of the text “Let’s love each other” in both English and Korean (see above). And so, without further ado, just where have I been for NYE? Taiwan for NYE2005 (or, “the one which opened my eyes,” photo below.) As I noted in the AHA article, I had been so surprised by what had not happened. I had been (culturally) shocked to learn that NYE was not commonly celebrated by people there, meaning that there would be no celebrations, no fireworks, but rather my own mind had lit up upon learning that I could be so wrong about what “expected behavior” may be. I paused and wondered, “Just what else am I taking for granted?” I just had to take the “steps” to find out. “Nowhere” for NYE2006? (Actually, this one may have been in New York City) This may have been one of the years where a “student budget” would only allow so much, or perhaps my idea of spending NYE in a new country each year had not yet formed.

It’s these “rules” which have guided how I have traveled. Given that I had been in school throughout, I could not afford such a trip each year. Also, I had almost died in 2010 when I was hit by a car, which I have shared extensively about elsewhere. Rather than feeling forced to follow my goal of seeing the world, I will admit that “life happens,” and so adjust my expectations for travel with it. I do also attempt to carry such a sense with me on my non-NYE trips, such as when I had been a middle school teacher in South Korea, when I

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England for NYE2007 With a ticket to London, I was able to experience what had been the “best NYE of my life” for many years, capturing this following photo in the process:

Japan for NYE2008 (photos below) My time in Japan was spent across a number of cities: Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, & Nara. It was there that I could see “Kinkakuji” and sleep inside a “capsule hotel,” and have tasty tofu.

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Canada for NYE2009 - Toronto was there for me, in a sense that I was glad to be there for it. I felt comfortable there. I will admit that I had been surprised by what I spotted while riding the subway once. I also had spotted statues of women on crutches in an art show. (Photos below).

“Nowhere” for NYE2010? (It was in Washington DC, maybe?) At this time, I was a premedical student, and so this may have been one of the years where a “student budget” would only allow so much, and I had already been to NYC. NYE2011 & NYE2012 (The background photo shows me almost dying after being hit by a car) I missed two years of this type of travel, as I had almost died when a car hit me while I was on one of my runs on November 22, 2010. My recovery took a long time, and resuming these trips was an important benchmark in my recovery that led me to feel I had control of my life once again.

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Netherlands for NYE2013 (photos below) This trip may be “my favorite” thus far, perhaps unfairly so, as it was my first NYE trip post-accident, and so I felt that I could have this aspect of my life “back” again. I have actually been making the distinction, when people ask me “Which trip was the best?” of noting between “best NYE night” vs. “best trip overall”. For “night,” UAE has since set the current world record for fireworks, and so that “takes the cake.” For “best trip overall,” I’ll tell you “Amsterdam.” It may be that I had felt the most comfortable/relaxed/carefree there, I suppose.

United Arab Emirates for NYE2014 (photo below) I was fortunate enough to catch the “world record” for fireworks with this trip, and to have been inside of the current world’s tallest building, the “Burj Khalifa.”

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France for NYE2015 (photos left) My last trip, prior to this article, had me placed firmly in Paris, France. Paris “hit” me in more ways than one. I have a great story now about my hand getting smacked by a security guard at the Louvre. What happened? Well, I was standing with many others in front of the Mona Lisa, and while I appreciated seeing such an image, I was more fascinated that so many people were taking pictures of it. I mean, aren’t much better quality images of it available online? Also, won’t people believe you if you tell them you were there? If they don’t, will an image (which could have been taken by anybody) convince them? So, my “inner psychologist” turned “on,” and I thought that the people taking such images were more interesting to me than the Mona Lisa, and so I started to record video via my phone and slowly turn around such that I faced the crowd/mob. Once a guard noticed my recording others, he actually smacked the hand holding my phone, such that my video jostled at just that moment in the recording. Such is a story which almost by itself justified my taking this trip. Parisians did not smile much, and my Paris friends had indicated to me that such is their cultural norm not to, such that my picture with the guard is likely his biggest smile possible, and my fake screaming is with other tourists. I was beside myself after I had returned shortly before the Charlie Hebdo attacks, noticing that where I had stayed was walking distance from their offices. I reminded myself that such is a reason for me to continue these trips––when tragedy hits a specific area, it’s no longer “out there” to me, but rather it’s “familiar, ” and so I may feel a sense of connection that I continue to develop as I grow.

Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy editors Thomas Anthony Dixon Jr. earned his Masters of Education at Temple University in 2014. Since almost dying when hit by a car on 11/22/10, he has resumed his New Year’s Eve trips by being in Amsterdam for NYE 2013, the United Arab Emirates for NYE 2014, and Paris for NYE 2015. His digital memory app, ME.mory, is currently in beta-testing for iPhone and Android, with updates at http://me.mory. jumpbuttonstudio.com/. Thomas may be reached at https:// www.facebook.com/thomasanthonydixonjr.

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Across Longitudes INDIA KENYA KENYA KENYA KENYA

Sandeep Das offers insight into his life as a traveling musician and philanthropist. Cynthia Amondi writes about being taught and inspired by an extraordinary woman. Gloria Mwaniga urges action to confront the hardships faced by women in Kibera. Immaculate Wandera illustrates the importance of determination in her life. Zubenda Bakari analyzes the myriad issues in Kibera.

The East Meets the West: An Interview with Sandeep Das BY VINCENT WANG

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hat was the deciding factor that caused you to pursue music as a career? Why did you choose to pursue the tabla? The first reason is a funny one. I used to get into trouble at school as an eight-year-old by tapping on the desk or tapping my foot on the floor during class. One day, my teacher called my father and told him he needed to take me to a doctor because I was constantly disturbing the class. After considering this for a while, my father decided that it was my good sense of rhythm, as we listened to a lot of music at home and local concerts. Also, because my father was a government official,

many musicians would stay at our house. My father had seen that I could tap and keep rhythm pretty well. So thankfully, instead of taking me to a doctor, my father got me my first pair of tabla drums. It was my father’s premonition, or his vision, that there was nothing wrong with me and that all I needed to do was learn music. I still remember the smell of the first instrument I got and how I would wait for school to be over so I could go home and practice. I used to love playing soccer and flying kites. But ever since the tablas came, all I wanted to do was practice them. The decision to pursue music as a career came much later. My father took me to one of the

Sandeep performs at the Rhythm of Life Concert.

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biggest tabla maestros and by the time I was 15, I was playing with some of the most famous Indian musicians in the world. For example, my debut was with Ravi Shankar, which is almost unthinkable nowadays. I learned from one of the masters and continued my education––I went to high school and college and received my bachelor’s degree in Honors English literature. The moment of my decision came when I qualified for personal management. The deal was to pick up that selection and continue college for personal management, or to give it up then and there. I called my father and told him that I qualified for personal management, but did not know if I should pick that up or continue with music. He

Sandeep working with children as part of the Silk Road Outreach Program. said, “Now that I have guided you, my son, the time has come for you to make a decision about what you want to do.” This decision was very difficult, so I called him back again from a payphone in Bombay and told him to give me some tips––I was confused. After a long conversation, I decided that I would love playing music more than anything else. My father said to not worry, follow my heart, and do what I wanted to do in life. That is when I decided to give up my academics completely for a year and to try music only. So, the plan was to move to Delhi and try music full-time for a year; if it works out, great, and if it does not, then I would give music up completely and fall back on studies. That is how my journey started. Eventually one concert led to another, and before I knew what happened, I was a professional musician. What makes you so passionate about music? I am doing something that I enjoy. No one is forcing me to do it. I do not have goals set by someone else; no one is telling me, “You have to achieve this, do this, and complete this field.” I think the biggest point is that once I have the instrument out, nothing in the world can divide me from it. That is the biggest driving factor: what I do gives me happiness and gives others happiness. Once you start playing professionally, you play with different musicians in different places, and you learn so much. You meet people who teach you not only about music, but also give you new

perspectives of the world. For example, before I started playing in Azerbaijan, I thought it was just a small country in the world and I would not care much for it. But now, if there were to be an earthquake in Azerbaijan, I would care greatly because I have a friend there whom I met through music. Similarly, when there is a fire near San Diego, I care because I have a friend whose family is there for which I really care. Those are things that give me the inspiration to keep striving for success. Why did you move to the United States from India? Are there any impactful experiences you have had while transitioning between cultures and societies? There is more than one reason for my move to the United States. One was definitely music. I am primarily an Indian classical musician trained to play Indian classical music. Though my first tour to the United States was in 1990, I would play Indian classical concerts and go away so much that I would turn off Western classical radio stations and I had no idea who Yo-Yo Ma was, even though I had played with him numerous times. I only played Indian classical concerts because I came from a really different background; however, once I was exposed to a different form of music thanks to the Silk Road Project of Yo-Yo Ma, I was inspired to keep collaborating with different musicians such as Keyhan Kalor and Sujahba (an Indian sitar player). That is when I received my first Grammy nomination. Musically, I started learning and seeing things

in a completely different way. I saw that by living in India, it would be very difficult for me to pursue learning about different perspectives. I could live and die just being an Indian classical tabla player, or I could take it to the next level and play with different musicians from around the world. I had to think about making it to a place where collaboration with others was important and emphasized. I also started playing with large Western-style orchestras, ensembles, and other groups of non-Indian musical style. The travel situation was also getting more and more difficult whenever I needed to leave the country to perform with others. All these factors prompted me to think “If not now, when?” So, I decided to give it a shot and move to the United States. The second reason is that, having visited this country in 1990, I felt that this was a country in which I wanted my kids to grow up, a country where they could get a true worldly perspective. It would have been my fourth and final year performing with the ensemble as an Indian musician, so I felt that I would rather try moving to the United States. If living there did not work, then I could always move back. I did not want to die lamenting about what I could or should have done. I always try to live my life––like every freelance musician should––going by my gut feeling. I think it was a gut feeling that moving was something we should try, I shared the idea with my wife and children, and here I am.

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Sandeep in concert. As for impactful moments, I have been coming here since 1990, and I would actually say the biggest change was for my children and wife rather than for me. I think their experiences were more concerned with leaving India. But for me, it was easy moving to a new home because I already had friends around me from music. In regard to this issue’s theme, Conflict, were there any social conflicts that you had between Indian and American cultures since you moved here? I would say that the United States is an amazing society, but one of the funnier experiences I had about social conflicts was actually about getting health insurance and a cell phone when we first moved here. It was inexplicably difficult compared to what I had imagined because for everything I needed to get, I needed a Social Security number. However, the Social Security Department very clearly says not to even inquire about it, and that it will be effective once you have lived here for 12 days. The dilemma we faced was that I could not have my family and children here without health insurance. So there I was: wanting to move to this country but not ready to have my family enter without health insurance. That was a unique situation in which the right hand did not know what the left hand was doing. The other conflict I still remember was buying a cell phone. When I went to buy a cell phone for my wife and me, they asked for a $2,000 deposit because we did not have

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a credit history. I really had to fight that, and I said, “Your damn phones don’t cost $2,000 so it’s not worth it.” I remember these situations where I really had to fight to get health insurance and a cell phone for us, which were some of our most challenging experiences. Other than that, I think this country and society is very open compared to trying to do something similar in India. For one, the school system was completely different. When my kids went to school, they had never studied in the United States, so there was no concept of Advanced Placement or Honors classes at their schools in India. In India, the only choice was to do well and study all the same subjects at any given time. The way teachers in the United States responded to that and helped them understand the new system was unique, and we all appreciated that. My wife also had an especially unique moment. Living in India, she had never seen snow. She never thought that trees would shed all their leaves just before it started snowing. So, the first time I was driving her from the airport to home, she was very sad to see that the entire city did not have any trees with leaves. That really affected her and she only told that to me a year later. I felt sorry for what she must have gone through psychologically at that time. That just goes to show how different cultures and geography can really affect someone. Your organization, Harmony and Universality through Music (HUM), works to “promote global understand-

ing through musical performance and education:” Could you explain the work you do with HUM and what you intend to accomplish with it? For what purpose did you develop this organization? What stage is the program in now and how have people reacted to it? I primarily started HUM because, musically, I felt that it was limiting to be a traveling, professional musician but not be acquainted with knowledge and understanding of global music and global musicians. What was being promoted to India in the name of “world music” was not world music at all. It was supported by big companies, but was basically really bad music. I was with Yo-Yo in Chicago playing at the Millennium Park once, and I came to the realization that Yo-Yo had given us this beautiful experience of the Silk Road Ensemble that brings different cultures and peoples together through music. I asked myself, “What am I doing to bring this experience forward?” At the time, my answer to myself was dissatisfactory. I felt that I was not doing anything to bring this idea forward, and I was just trying to have great time and learn lots of new things but in the end, I was just going to go back to India and not do anything about it. So that was one thought, and coupled with what was going on according to me musically and especially with exposure to music from outside of India, I felt that I had a huge source of amazing musicians and friends that I should bring to India to give Indian people an idea

of what good world music is. In the process, I could also expose the younger musicians to this experience––when I was 15, 16, and 20, I never had the opportunity to even hear musicians of this caliber. I asked myself how it would feel if I were able to do something that would allow youth to hear and work with these fabulous musicians and learn from them. If I were do something like this in India and if other musicians could do this in China or Iran, maybe 10 or 15 years from now millions of people can get together and do something to carry forward the amazing idea that Yo-Yo gave us. So these ideas coupled together were some of the biggest driving forces.

In respect to what the New York Times may write about me or what people may say about me, I think that every human knows right away whether the work they have done was great, good, or average on any given day. I think a measure of success is what you feel inside you, which is very important. And, groups of supportive people can help–– as long as Indian classical musicians and music lovers feel that I am a decent tabla player, I am pretty happy. As long as I feel that I am trying to give the best to my children, and that they are happy, I am successful. The same goes for my wife and friends––if a majority of my friends think that I am a decent guy, I will be happy.

Then, I suddenly felt that just playing music and bringing in musicians was not good enough. So, I started to look for underprivileged but musically talented children, and I found three visually impaired children who were super talented. I brought them in and they performed with us in the first concert. I promised myself and the crowd that this event would not be a one-time affair, that I would make sure to help the kids continue playing music. I am very proud to say that last year, we partnered with a German firm that is helping us to run the first Indian national scholarship for specially disabled children to help them learn Indian classical music. The three visually impaired children are learning Indian classical music, two girls are currently learning folk music, and one boy is learning the tabla. I recently was able to introduce them at a Delhi concert, which was a very successful performance.

In the end, something like HUM or what Yo-Yo is doing with Silk Road becomes top priority as we grow old. It is not just about playing concerts or making money, it has to be about something more than one person. I think that I am fulfilling that part of my life with HUM. If I am able to change the life of even one child for the better, like a student with Parkinson’s that plays the tabla, I would call that a success. I am not worried whether my neighbor knows me or not, or how famous I am. I will be the happiest man on the planet if I am able to positively change the lives of others and to bring happiness to myself and others around me.

Based on your experiences as a musician, what do you believe the meaning of success is in life and society?

A Grammy-nominated Indian tabla player, Sandeep Das has composed and played for Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road Ensemble. Inspired by the Silk Road, Sandeep founded an organization, Harmony and Universality through Music, in 2009, which is comprised of world-class artists whose goal is to promote global understanding through musical performance and education.

Definitions of success are personal matters for everyone. I see artists who, according to the world, are very successful. Yet, I have known them personally and some are unhappy and insecure. They are not content with what they have, and they are always worried about what somebody else has. I think I have been very fortunate from day one in that I have been successful in many ways. I always feel that if I am satisfied with myself after a concert, I am successful and happy.

Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

ACROSS LONGITUDES 37

Strength of a Woman

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BY CYNTHIA AMONDI

n the great walls of Nairobi is a city called Kibera where women live––strong women who go through a lot of hardship but still stand up to fight. They are women who strive to exist even though the world pushed them around. We have extraordinary women in Kibera but one woman stood out for me: Sarah. Sarah is a great example of the women fighting hard to make Kibera and the people living there happy. Sarah has faced a lot of disheartening problems in her life. She was married and blessed with three children, and all of them go to school. She is a single mum to say the least; even though she lives with a husband, she is the bread-winner of the family. She wakes up every day to look for work and hustle––that has been her life. She is my neighbor and she has inspired me to keep working hard in school because she wishes she had been in a school and become educated. She dreams the same for her children and is hoping to one day be able to send her kinds to university. She does not depend on her husband to provide for her. She would rather sit in the sun and work than subject her kids to torture. She has taught me to not let the world define you. She may not be rich, educated or very influential but her life is what inspires me. She is a fighter and a brave person who the world brought to teach me. Women learn from each other but I am learning from the best. The strength of Sarah has saved me and I will become an exceptionally strong woman if I work hard and try not to repeat the mistakes that Sarah made when she was young.

The Girl BY GLORIA MWANIGA

S

ome of the communities in Kenya discriminate against kids. Girls have been denied the right to an education. In many societies girls are forced to get married because very few see the need to educate a girl.

The society engages girls in some illegal activities which are very hurtful, making some of them lament that they think that the world has left them alone. They ask, “Why have we been left alone?” Girls are mostly known to face many more challenges compared to boys. During their menstrual cycle they lack sanitary towels to use. Some communities send girls away during their menstrual cycles and come back after they finish the cycle. Some societies also force girls to stop school once they hit their adolescent stage because they feel you are already a woman and should get married. We need to protect and help those young girls because women are powerful and they can bring more to the society and help people. We women are made in such a way that we see the world differently. There is a lot we can do and there is a lot we can offer. Women are the mirrors of their communities and they can offer help to the people. I am grateful for institutions like KGSA that help girls in areas where women are less appreciated. There are several organizations that help girls and help them see their worth. We hope one day that societies will appreciate girls. Women have and will have the potential to change communities. We have the power and the strength to bring change and it will only come if we are given the opportunity to be educated. Kibera Girls’ Soccer is an example of the things that make me see women will one day see their worth. Women will one day all be educated and become leaders. We believe anything is possible. Let us stand for women and girls. KSGA students and graduates at KGSA’s ninth anniversary event.

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I Am Immaculate BY IMMACULATE WANDERA

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ust as one of the heroes I feel more than happy to call myself one of them. I will call myself an iron. An iron because I have accomplished one of the many things I never dream I would achieve. My name is Immaculate and this is my story. After completing my primary education my parents did not have money to send me to high school so I remained home while the rest of the team that I completed primary school with went on with their education. We had a neighbor who to take girls to Nairobi for work––it was mainly house work, and I would got to Nairobi to be a house help. I had to choose between going to Nairobi and keeping the hope––the hope of one day being in school––alive. I traveled to Nairobi, to a place that I later knew as Kibera, one of the biggest slums in the world. The family that I was acquainted with was a happy and a very loving and caring family––they gave me hope and strength. Unfortunately they had expected to meet a mature girl, someone who was not as little as I was at that time. I worked for the whole year as their house help and I saved some money while working, knowing that it would be my school fees. I never knew a school called Kibera Girls Soccer Academy that helped girls who could not afford to pay school fees.

Pictured above are KGSA students Sophira, Warda, and Tima.

Fortunately, one day, the man that I was working for as a house help saw the potential in me and went ahead to ask the head of Kibera Girls Soccer for a permission to take me in as a student. I got in. That was the best day of my life. I could not believe it. I used my savings to pay my registration fees and small things to use in school like books and pencils. Since then I work as I go to school and, I give thanks to Kibera Girls soccer Academy for everything. My dream of being in a school was made true. I am now about to complete my high school education and I am very hopeful I will get great grades and get admitted to go to college.

Kibera and Its Problems BY ZUBENDA BAKARI

K

ibera is the second largest slum in the whole world. Being the second largest slum in the whole world does not mean that there are no problems affecting us. There is a myriad of problems that affect us as the people living here. These problems range from poor housing to security. Many people living in Kibera have unpleasant houses by which you can find two or three people living in a 3’ by 6’ house. It is very shameful that children are using the same room as their parents. The other problem is the increase in crime rates. Due to lack of money children are not continuing with their education because of a lack of resources. The people living in Kibera also encounter a lack of water.

minds of the people and make them see that education can help us analyze things differently and maybe we can bring apply those ideas to changing in the world. Written at Kibera Girls’ Soccer Academy Mwanaidi Ismael films a Member of Parliament’s speech during the festival.

People are affected so much by what is going on and we hope that with enough pressure, the government will come back to Kibera and help the people living there because it is their responsibility. As a resident, I am doing my part of working hard to better my community and make the lives of the people living there better. My major concern are schools and education for the youth because the youth need it to change society––that is what can change the

ACROSS LONGITUDES 39

Commentary TRAVEL RELATIONSHIP HEALING ROUTINE

Bob Harris discusses embracing other people, places, and cultures. Andrea Juskaitis urges a stronger connection to nature in today’s technological world. Geri Portnoy considers yoga’s connection to conflict resolution. Paola Núñez Solorio’s photos show daily life along Vietnam’s Oriental Express.

Changing the World Means Being Changed

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BY BOB HARRIS

t should be obvious that if you aren’t meeting local people as you travel, you’re not truly visiting another country. What is a country, if not the lives of the people who live there? But ironically, while the Internet makes travel historically easy, the Instagram era may also make it more self-focused than ever. I think that’s a shame. The innocent hey-I’m-in-Paris! joy of seeing yourself paired with the Eiffel Tower is terrific fun to share, but repeated to excess, it also risks reducing humankind’s greatest endeavors into rotating backdrops for round-the-world-withduckface. A quick glance at Facebook shows that many travelers take hundreds of selfies for every one caring portrait of a local person they meet. It’s a tremendous waste of opportunity. That’s not travel. It’s narcissism with a passport. If we need to look that much at ourselves, we can just stay in the bathroom. But it’s also understandable, because it’s easier than real travel. Looking people in the eye, spending time with them, meeting them on their own terms, listening to their stories, and fully embracing them as equals is hard, especially at first. This isn’t because any of those skills are particularly difficult. We’re social animals. Conversation and connection are basic human instincts. It’s hard because other people have different lives and ways of seeing the world, and if you open your heart when you encounter them, you’re going to feel stuff. And you don’t know what.You don’t know if it will be good or bad. You don’t know how long you’ll keep feeling it afterward. But you do sense that you will be changed by the encounter, and in ways that you can neither predict nor control. Embracing this process is the difference between a tourist and a traveler. As a tourist, you see things and move on. As a traveller, you see people, and part of you never leaves.

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I didn’t learn this easily. I grew up in an Ohio town that the 2000 U.S. census listed as 97.3% European-American—the single whitest city with a population above 50,000 in the entire United States. I never heard a word of a language other than English until I was in high school. Travel seemed like asking for confusion, loneliness, and danger. I had to teach myself to stop, to take time, to be interested—and to risk being changed. But after visiting nearly 80 countries, it’s the single most valuable thing I can share. To give you the flavor, here are a few people I’ve encountered along the way, and what the encounters have offered so far:

Alexandria, Egypt (shown above), during the U.S. invasion of Iraq, when Americans were frequently cautioned against travel to the entire Mideast. I’d exited the wrong train station and was thoroughly lost when I was approached by seven young men who asked where I was from. I said I was American, expressed regret for the devastation happening not tat far away, and told them I was glad to still be able to visit their country. They basically gang-befriended me, and we spent a chunk of the day asking questions about each other’s countries. At a time when American media was flush with anti-Arab stereotypes that have yet to

relent, it defied every prejudice I could have embraced. Bali, Indonesia (shown above left), 2004, right after the terrorist bombings in Kuta. Again, I found myself in a place that Americans were being strongly advised not to visit. And as you can see, I was in terrible danger: these women, carrying offerings to their gods, might have welcomed me into submission. Kuta is one beach in one town on an entire island, itself only one of thousands of islands in the country. I was reminded of local news everywhere, which is always about fires and crimes and things going boom. If you didn’t know any better, you could see your own hometown as terrifying. It started to dawn on me that maybe the whole world is a little like that—that there are certainly neighborhoods you want to avoid (Iraq, Afghanistan, western Sudan, etc.), but most of it might be a lot kinder and friendlier than it would ever pay the news to report.

Dubai, United Arab Emirates (shown bottom right), 2008. By now I’d become a professional travel writer, working for Forbes Traveler and getting a free ride in many of the world’s fanciest hotels. This was fun for a while. But in Dubai, billion-dollar palaces are built by immigrant laborers from some of the world’s poorest regions, men paid as little as six dollars a day yet worked to near-death in the blazing heat, and willing to endure so they could send a few bucks home to help feed their kids. This wasn’t completely different from the way my own dad worked himself silly just trying to put food on the table. Meanwhile I was getting paid to stay in the air-conditioned palaces they’d built, less due to any virtue on my part than my good fortune in the birth lottery. Had I merely been born in many parts of South Asia, I might well have been one of these men. I wanted to help, but it seemed impossible. What can a dude from Ohio do about any of this? It became very hard to reconcile this in my conscience. Thing is, the guys in Dubai had signed up

for that hell because, believe it or not, it was potentially a better option than anything back home. So if I wanted to help people like them, maybe part of the answer would be helping to build small businesses and grow the economies where they came from. Eventually I found a charity called Kiva.org that allowed me to put the money I’d made as a travel writer to work for others, by investing in microloans to help grow small businesses all over the world. So that’s what I did. Pretty soon, I wanted to get in the field and see if it did any good. Cusco, Peru (shown top right), my first stop as I began visiting microfinance institutions and clients I’d invested in. Asociación Arariwa is a Peruvian organization that not only funds thousands of small businesses, but also provides education and other logistical support to their clients. The woman I’m standing with, Clotilda, had already worked for more than a decade to help mom-andpop businesses get on their feet. (By the way, I didn’t tell clients that I’d helped support their loan. For one, I didn’t deserve any real

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Western media portrayal of poverty, doesn’t it? Cute African kid, check. Barefoot adult, check. Bare wooden shack, check. If you squint, you might even see Sally Struthers choking back tears in the background. credit—if I hadn’t, another Kiva lender surely would have. Also, the sense of indebtedness would have been total ick. So I just showed up as an American writer who was curious about their lives, which was true, validating, and way more important anyway.) When I first walked into Cloty’s office, hoping eventually to meet some local clients I’d lent to online, I was secretly nervous—I didn’t know the local culture, I was a beginner in the field, and I was afraid I’d be an imposition. But Cloty welcomed me like an old friend, which made a huge difference. If she hadn’t, I don’t know if I’d had the courage to continue the project. She taught me a lot in a very short time, just by example. Her whole job is dealing with nervous people trying to do something they’ve never tried before. It only occurred to me later that this something we all do a lot more often than we realize. Defaulting to friendship and encouragement at the right moment can change a life. Near Murang’a, Kenya (shown above). This is the family of a client named Symon, who had borrowed money to buy a cow. This looks a heck of a lot like the standard

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Except that’s not what’s happening here. Not remotely. In dairy country in Kenya, highly productive hybrid cows are income-generating capital equipment, purchased, paid off, and employed somewhat like a taxi in New York City. The new cow’s increased milk pays off the loan in the first year, after which the cow becomes a steady source of cash flow. This family wasn’t interested in a handout; they were being supported by a new, growing, independent enterprise with an established business model. Meeting these folks wasn’t like Bono playing white savior while striding through a refugee camp. This was simply saying hello to smart, friendly neighbors who were building a good business to support a beautiful kid, nothing more. If I’d been locked up in not seeing these folks as equals, it might have been harder to see that. Our most charitable intentions may still be laced with hidden prejudices. Pulling those apart and disposing of them is a vital step in being able to listen and help where we can. Near Siem Reap, Cambodia (shown above). Look at this woman’s smile for a minute, will you? Take it in. Imagine what she’d be link to hang out with. Read her face as you would if she got into an elevator with you, and let yourself form a quick impression. I bet you can already see that she’s someone you’d like. When I met them, Nary and her husband were both working two jobs, often 12-hour days each, trying to save enough money to start a family. The corrugated tin behind her is their house. It’s a much harder life than I’ve ever had, and I grew up working class by Western standards. They didn’t exactly win the birth lottery the way most people reading this did. But look again at that face. A life at the $3 or $6 or $10-per-day level is often imagined by Westerners as a sort of waking doom. This can be reinforced by a lot of the portrayals of poverty that are used in the fundraising materials of various charities, playing on guilt and similar emotions. And it works.

Fundraising appeals that feature darker skin and sadder faces tend to raise more money. But this isn’t necessarily reflective of what you always find in the field. Nearly every family I’ve met at the bottom of the wealth pyramid loves their kids, enjoy a good laugh, and like to make new friends exactly like you do. Make no mistake — it’s a vastly harder life, often in so many ways that it takes lengthy study just to chronicle them fairly. You do find sadness, fear, stress, and tragically shortened lives. But there is also joy, faith, and hope. I think if we can see that, too, it makes it easier to engage. Litein, Kenya (shown above), near Lake Victoria, shortly after 90 minutes with a group of deaf-mute farmers hoping to save communally to buy its first cow. I thought that this visit might present unusual communication challenges, since I seemed to have no direct way to communicate with the clients. So the plan was a bucket brigade: the two men wearing white shirts here are loan officers who speak English and Swahili (among other languages). The secretary of the group in a pink suit speaks Swahili and sign language for the deaf. The rest of the folks here all speak primarily in sign language (although the lovely little girl in the yellow dress also has the ability to shriek in mortal terror at the sight of a dude who doesn’t look the way people are supposed to in her experience; notice that 90 minutes after my arrival, she’s still giving me the stink-eye, and I’ve chosen to give her as much space as possible). So the clients would speak in sign language, which would become Swahili, which would become English, and vice versa. I wondered if it would work at all.

This plan lasted about two minutes before we were all just using our hands. “Are you Christian?” just takes crossed index fingers and raised eyebrows. “Are you Muslim?” needs only a crescent-shaped hand. (“Skeptical agnostic who tries to see with his heart” was a little harder, admittedly, but you can imagine it, I bet.) Jobs, family size, hopes, even jokes — all of it, we did in near-silence, smiling and laughing. It was one of the most unexpectedly beautiful days of my life. If you worry about language barriers, let that go right now. About 90 percent of all communication is non-verbal—we communicate with our eyes, our hands, our body language, and so much more, literally every waking moment. Be yourself, and people can usually see you just fine. Outside Beirut, Lebanon (shown top of following page), yet another gang-befriending. When I was these students’ age, Lebanon was a country where Americans were in headlines for being kidnapped and worse. It’s still a country under intense sectarian stress. But at a popular spot for local tourists, this group of young people already had experience separating the Americans they directly communicated with from the policies of our government. So for me, they had nothing but friendship and questions. Save cosmetic differences, it felt little different from meeting curious high school kids back home in Ohio. I was truly shocked by how much I enjoyed Lebanon. The local Kiva partner, Al Majmoua, considers non-sectarianism their core value, and their work strives to create a society where rival communities trade and see each other as partners. My respect for the people I met at Al Majmoua is boundless.

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Unfortunately, shortly after I left, the Syrian civil war began and refugees began streaming across the border. Everyone’s life has become harder of late. And when I think of these kids, or my friends at Al Majmoua, Lebanon will never again be a place merely in the news. It is a place where there are people I care about very much. This is one way that real travel changes you. Parts of your heart stay everywhere you go. See a pattern here? Not hard to make friends. This is the island of Mactan in the Philippines (shown above, bottom right), and the gang works for the local Kiva partner, bringing finance, training, and other support to clients all over the island. We ordered pizza and sat up talking late into the night. Two major typhoons have rolled though the area since then. I watch the news, email, tweet, ask how I can help, send funds, send notes, and feel relieved (so far) to find out everybody I’ve stayed in touch with is okay.

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Parts of your heart stay everywhere you go. More joy, more sadness. Both. I wouldn’t trade. Chennai, India (shown above, bottom left). Here’s Ram and Smita, founders of Rangde.org, India’s largest microlending platform, when we went out to dinner in Chennai. Ram and Smita live in a country that has more people in poverty than do the poorest twenty-six African countries combined. (This is staggering to grasp, yet true. India has a lot of poverty.) Most people would shrink from facing a task like that. Not Ram and Smita. Inspired by Kiva’s example, they built an online platform so that Indians could focus on lending to other Indians. Then Ram and Smita began criss-crossing India for years, finding local partners. Ram and Smita’s work has so far helped more than 30,000 Indian families. These are some seriously cool people.

Those families are still just a tiny fraction of the hundreds of millions of Indians who lost the birth lottery. It would be so easy to become discouraged, to give up, to feel yourself spitting in the proverbial ocean. But Ram and Smita stay focused on what they can do, and so they accomplish amazing things. Every time I think the world is too big and overwhelm looms, I think of Ram and Smita. And I wonder what the world would be like if more of us made our lives about solving problems and helping people, rather than ignoring them. Finally, here’s the kicker: this isn’t just about being overseas. Of course not. New York City (shown right), just a few months ago. It can be difficult to spend time with strangers of different economic and social backgrounds anywhere. Speak to the homeless woman, spend time with the immigrants doing construction work next door, walk with the person of a different ethnicity and really listen with an open heart, and feel your heart struggling. It takes courage to see the world around you in full. Even here, outside the Plaza Hotel, on some of the priciest real estate in America, there is want. A shocking number of America’s homeless are actually veterans who are suffering from PTSD, alcoholism, or other adjustment issues. The next person you pass on the street may, in fact, have risked his or her life to protect yours. Let that sink in. And here we have a choice. Pass by in safety, or stop, listen, and try (and very possibly fail) to help. You will be changed, in ways you cannot predict or control. Knowing that, and stopping anyway, may be what it means to become more fully human. It’s hard. You risk being changed. I don’t do it all the time, and I don’t pretend to. No one can. But we can try.

Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

Bob Harris is an author and TV writer. In 2008, he became a luxury travel writer for Forbes, the profits from which he soon invested in thousands of microloans to small businesses via Kiva.org. His later travels to personally meet many of the clients are chronicled in The International Bank of Bob (Bloomsbury, 2013). For more, visit bobharris.com.

COMMENTARY 45

Nature Deficit BY ANDREA JUSKAITIS There is new life in the soil for every man. There is healing in the trees for tired minds and for our overburdened spirits, there is strength in the hills, if only we will lift up our eyes. Remember that nature is your great restorer.” - Calvin Coolidge, 1924 speech1

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umans have always had an intimate relationship with the earth. Over two thousand years ago, Chinese Taoists created gardens and greenhouses to improve human health, and, until the last fifty years or so, our ancestors hunted, gathered, farmed and fished; their entire existence was outdoors. Nature was revered as the source of all life and human civilization understood that we are intricately bonded to the earth. A century ago, eco-pioneer John Muir observed that: “Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, overcivilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.”2 However, Richard Louv, in his book The Last Child in the Woods, writes, “Our children are the first generation to be raised without meaningful connection to the natural world,” coining this divide between children and the outdoors as “nature-deficit.”3 He says, “This collective disorder threatens our health, our spirit, our economy, and our future stewardship of the environment,” and he argues that the natural world is a powerful restorative power, where “a reconnection to it is funda-

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mental to human health, well-being, spirit, and survival.”4 What are the implications of this radical shift from coexisting with the natural world to being so disengaged from it? As human civilization becomes increasingly more disconnected from Mother Earth and more connected to technology, we are, essentially, disconnecting from our true nature. Essentially, “a denatured life is a dehumanized life.”5 Research indicates that anxiety and depression rates globally are staggering, perhaps most alarmingly in children. Despite the explosion in popularity of technological devices and social media sites, a pervasive loneliness infiltrates our society. Chronic stress has reached epidemic levels, so entrenched in people’s lives it becomes the ‘new normal’ and they can no longer remember what it’s like to feel truly relaxed. “Our society,” Louv states, “has developed such an over-sized faith in technology that we have yet to fully realize or even adequately study how human capacities are enhanced through the power of nature. Tapping into the restorative powers of the natural world can boost mental acuity and creativity; promote health and wellness; build smarter and more sustainable communities, and economies; and ultimately strengthen human bonds.” As he says in his

book, The Nature Principle, it is “about the power of living in nature—not with it, but in it.”6 When I was around 10 years old, I went backpacking with my family in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the Tahoe National Forest. I felt so independent carrying my Kelty external frame backpack-I had everything I needed right on my back! It was a steady, but strenuous upward climb to Loch Leven Lake. We passed through patches of pine forest, negotiating large erratic boulders and scrambling across exposed granite. I learned to differentiate the various evergreen trees and riparian plants, and from that experience, I grew an affinity for the Ponderosa Pine with its tall, straight, thick trunk, clad in scaled, Calvin Coolidge Quotes, brainyquote.com, accessed 2015. 2 Stephen R. Fox, John Muir and His Legacy (Boston: Little, Brown, 1981), 116. 3 Richard Louv, Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder (New York: Algonquin Books, 2005), 3. 4 Richard Louv, The Nature Principle: Human Restoration and the End of Nature Deficit Disorder (New York: Algonquin Books, 2011), 3. 5 Ibid., 23. 6 Louv, The Nature Principle, 9. 1

rusty-orange bark. How I love the smell of the butterscotch-vanilla scent coming from the peeled off bark! I remember my brother would stop often to pull up a rock and look for creatures like salamanders, newts, or horned toads. Once he found an olive green-colored rubber boa-a rarity- and he begged my parents if he could take it home with him. Along the way, we saw deer, marmots, hawks, and golden eagles soaring majestically above looking for their next meal. As we continued our fourmile ascent, we would drop our canteens into the frigid waters of the nearby stream- runoff from the snow-packed mountains. That first night, we celebrated our day by sitting around the camp fire eating freshly caught brownspotted trout, cooked over an open flame with a touch of lemon and butter. It was this memory that thrust me into the world of backpacking and hiking-that propelled me to make choices in my life that would constantly lead me to nature. By the time I was in 11th grade, my family had gone on dozens of backpacking trips and nature became more of a centerpiece in my life. Moreover, this feeling of kinship with nature only increased by my having read Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. The themes of the importance of nature, of calmly reflecting and thinking for oneself, resonated with me

for years afterwards. In retrospect, this was the pivotal transformation of my life. I gravitated towards Thoreau, because, like myself, he liked to get his feet muddy; all nature was a “tonic” for him. Nearly everyday, year round, he was out walking-exploring and studying every nook and cranny in Walden Woods. On warm Sunday mornings, he waded up to his shoulders in the Concord River while his neighbors sat high and dry in their church pews. While they tilled their fields, he climbed the tallest white pine trees he could find in a search for bird nests, pinecones, or a fine view. As his understanding and intimacy with the world of nature developed, Thoreau became one of its earliest champions. Watching Concord stripped of its forests for farming and fuel-wood, Thoreau looked to the future and raised new possibilities. “Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, of 500 or a thousand acres, where a stick should never be cut for fuel, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation,” he wrote.7 Thoreau looked at things and thought about them, and tried his best to place them within the context of his broad experience. He moved slowly, and he paid attention. I spend much of my summer on a small island in

Maine, and when I am there, my senses are peeked: I notice the tadpoles evolving into little frogs as I walk by the pond near the old farmhouse. As I approach the shore, I hear the lobsterman shouting through the early morning mist, making sure their traps are all emptied before plunging them back into the freezing waters of the Sheepscott River. During low tide, I step onto the beach and pick up green and blue sea glass, noticing the way the delicate shells and rocks are intermingled, and watch how the tide laps upon the sand taking seaweed along with it. I hear the squirrels yammering to the birds to leave their acorns alone, while the bell buoy gongs in the background. And, like Thoreau, I talk to anyone along the way,” greeting them with a smile and a warm “hello.” There is no doubt that people are drawn to the outdoors for refreshment and ideas. American painter Richard C. Harrington, like many creative artists writes, “For me to be removed from the environment, not to be outside on a regular basis, leaves me stressed, depressed and generally unhappy.”8 Simply put, being outdoors, amidst the trees, feeling the air on my face, dealing with the Paul Moliken, Transcendentalism: Essential Essays of Emerson and Thoreau (Delaware: Prestwick House, 2008), 81. 8 Louv, The Nature Principle, 24. 7

(Left) In the high Uintahs Wilderness, Utah. Backpacking at 11,300 feet near the Rocky Sea Pass. (Below) Me backpacking in the Tushar Mountains.

COMMENTARY 47

(Clockwise from left) Hiking through the Narrows in Zion National Park. Entering the impressive “Wall Street” section. The Virgin River meandering its way through the Narrows in Zion, Utah. Backpacking with Pacific Ridge School students. Taking a rest in the Narrows. elements, makes me happy. You aren’t ruled by the lust to have more, know more, be more-you live thoughtlessly, which means you live in the moment. Nature reminds me how simple and achievable life really is. When I begin to stress, or sweat the small stuff, I get back outdoors and remind myself what really matters. Louv writes, “The future will belong to the nature-smart-those individuals, families, businesses, and political leaders who develop a deeper understanding of the transformative power of the natural world and who balance the virtual with the real. The more high-tech we become, the more nature we need”.9 So, how do we develop meaningful connections with others, and ourselves clear our minds, calm our fears, open our imaginations, and restore our souls? We have unlimited choices: Go for a hike on a local trail, take a trip to the beach, soak up the sun, and listen to the

48 COMMENTARY

sound of the waves rolling onto the shore. Just go outside and take a walk around your neighborhood. Integrating nature into our lives is easy and doesn’t cost a thing. In the words of naturalist John Muir, “Everybody needs beauty…places to play and places to pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul alike.” In the natural world, there is no room for judgment or comparison. No pressure or competition. We can be our natural selves; remove the masks, let down our guard, and be playful. So go. Go outside and be free. 9

Louv, The Nature Principle, 43.

Andrea Juskaitis is currently an English teacher at Pacific Ridge School in Carlsbad, California. She enjoys spending time outdoors with her husband, two daughters, and her dog.

Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

The Yoga Formula for Dealing with Conflict BY GERI PORTNOY

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hen I was younger, I was passionate about peace. I had a peace t-shirt business, I taught kids about peace and the environment, and I ultimately decided to go to graduate school to study and learn about peace and conflict resolution. I attended the University of Notre Dame’s graduate studies program with students from around the world: Vietnam, Uganda, Palestine, Israel, Chile, and dozens of other countries. Each person in that program had a passion, a burning desire, to play a significant role in creating a more peaceful world. Looking back, I can see that much of my love for peace arose from my fear and hatred of conflict. Conflict was so uncomfortable, and I wanted to find a way to get out of it. Sometimes I would avoid it and run away. Sometimes I would overpower the other person and “win” the conflict, sometimes I would give in to what the other person wanted and “lose” the conflict, and sometimes I would simply ignore the conflict and pretend it did not exist. None of those options were completely satisfying. Through my work in the International Peace Studies program at the University of Notre Dame, I was introduced to mediation––a process of conflict resolution through which each side is able to express their needs, wants, and desires. The other side listens and reflects back on what was heard. Ultimately some type of “win-win” agreement is reached that serves both parties. This process worked well in the mock mediations we set up, but in real life, human relationships––even in the peace studies––are often very messy. How do you know when a conflict is worthy of investing your time and energy in to work it through, and when it is better to just let it go? There are times when “working things out” with another person is not worth your time or energy, because maintaining a relationship with that person is not important to you. Perhaps you have outgrown the friendship, perhaps they are not trustworthy, perhaps they are mean, disrespectful, or violent, and the most mature and healthy thing you can do is consciously separate from that person, get them out of your life, and let the conflict go. On the other hand, in life there are many relationships with people that you really care about––people and relationships that really

matter to you––ones that feed your soul and challenge you to the core, ones that nourish your heart and break it wide open. For these situations in which you are in a healthy relationship with someone else who is mature and available enough to work things out with you, there is a new type of conflict resolution emerging in the world. It is based on the ancient model of yoga. In a yoga practice, you step onto your mat and do various yoga postures to stretch yourself. It is a practice designed to evolve and grow you, and help you find peace at the very core of your being. How does that happen? You learn to stay present while you are being stretched or pulled in two opposite directions. This is what conflict is: a situation where there are two opposite sides pulling against each other and creating a type of tension. Sometimes we have internal conflicts, where two sides of ourselves are in opposition, such as wanting to take an art class but needing to take a math class to fulfill the requirements for college. Sometimes we have external conflicts, such as being in an argument with your parents about how late to stay out on a Saturday night. Either way, the yoga formula for dealing with conflict is to “hold the stretch.” To turn inside and notice the tension you feel in your body when you are in a conflict. Again, if the conflict is with someone you do not really care about, you might just walk away and not include him or her in your life. But if the conflict is with someone you value, you can learn to hold the tension inside you and let it help you grow. You can take five minutes to share your truth with the other person, and give the other person five minutes to share his or her truth with you. There should be no interruptions while each person is sharing a perspective. In order to “stretch,” the yoga formula invites you to stand in the other person’s shoes, to really experience their reality, and it invites the other person to do the same. This is how you stretch and grow. If the other person is not capable of understanding your view, you might try more traditional conflict resolution techniques like mediation. The “Yoga Formula for Conflict Resolution” is that you can learn to hold someone else’s view and your own view and honor the validity of both. Here’s an example from my own life. I recently met my biological mother

for the first time. She had given birth to me when she was 16 years old, and gave me up to a wonderful family for adoption. We had not seen each other in over 50 years. When I met her, she did not want to stay in communication with me because it was difficult for her; it brought up old unresolved feelings from her past. I, on the other hand, really wanted a relationship with her. I wanted to get to know her and learn more about my biological family roots and in doing so, learn more about myself. We had opposite viewpoints. I had to learn to hold the tension of this unresolvable conflict. I listened to her view, she listened to my view, and we both just sat in the tension and let it “stretch” us. I did not need to make her change her mind. We just let each other be who they were and have the view they had. Over time, she changed her mind. Not because I made her, or talked her out of her truth, but paradoxically, because I could just “hold space” and let her have her viewpoint, her own set of feelings. We both grew and evolved just by holding the un-resolvability of the situation and letting it “stretch” us. Albert Einstein once said, “No problem can be solved by the same level of consciousness that created it.” This is the larger invitation for all of us on planet Earth today. Our problems no longer can be solved by just one person, or solved by the same level of thinking we have used up to this point. We are now being called to “stretch” and grow in our capacity to hold conflict––to be able to see all sides of a conflict and to hold the tension that creates. To breathe and feel the intense stretch of it all––allow our problems, personal and global, to grow us–– to break our hearts open to the next level of our capacity to love. For it is in this great and brave endeavor that we can reestablish hope for our future. It is only by evolving and growing ourselves through each conflict we encounter in life that we can move beyond the old paradigms and start to open up into a higher and broader level of consciousness, one that recognizes the fundamental oneness and interconnectivity of everyone and everything. That is the very essence of the practice of yoga.

Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy editors Geri Portnoy is a certified yoga teacher. She holds a master’s degree in International Peace Studies from the University of Notre Dame and has implemented the peer mediation programs in public schools throughout Southern California. She is a writer, poet, spiritual teacher and the founder of Yoga of Awakening, an integrated system for modern day spiritual awakening.

COMMENTARY 49

Oriental Express BY PAOLA NÚÑEZ SOLORIO

The morning train passing by as people get ready for their day. This street is part of the principal route of 1726 Km single track North-South Railway line, running between Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City.

(Above) Women in a local salon. (Below) The Oriental Express passing through. Vietnam Railways (Đường sắt Việt Nam) is the state-owned operator of the railway system in Vietnam.

52 COMMENTARY

There is a strong sense of community as space is practically shared and a whole part of their lives happens outside their homes.

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A young man relaxing outdoors, sitting on the train tracks.

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Paola Núñez Solorio is a Mexican photographer, and currently works and lives in both Mexico and New York. She graduated in 2010 from The International Center of Photography. Since 2005 she has been participating in various groups’ exhibitions in Mexico and New York. She had a Solo Show in 2009, in Mexico. She is also finalist and winner of several international photography competitions and awards, among which are: 2nd Prize of The Julia Margaret Cameron Award in the “Landscapes and Cityscapes” category, a 2011 Silver Medal of the Prix de la Photographie Paris, Exposure finalist, Havana Times finalist and the National GeographicPDN World in Focus Contest finalist. In 2013 she had her first solo show in New York of her project “Serenade for New York.” Publications which include her work are The New York Times, EL PAIS, BBC, BBC World, RTVE, American Photo, Cuartoscuro, PDN, NBC, COSMO, Popular Mechanics, Havana Times and One Life Photobook among others, as well as web portals worldwide. Solicited by Pacific Ridge School editors

COMMENTARY 55

Poetry COMPLEXITY GRATITUDE GROWTH

Divided by Rachel Wells The Best Place to Be by Gladys Masista The Plant and the Women by Warda Yusuf

Divided BY RACHEL WELLS

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e live in a world dominated by differences

In countries divided by oceans, rivers, documents, and hinderances by rugged terrains and flat grass land prairies by the histories of our names and the actions of our ancestries

such a paradox all worn out and bent all it takes is a change of definition

We live in a world of resent for the writers of our history books followed by tears of relent for the followers of many a livelihood, religion, and ideal took

just because we are all different doesn’t mean we can’t make it the integrating factor that makes us all the same

Our hours are dominated by our futures and our moments squandered by our pasts

complexly because we all have some thinking-meat in our craniums we have a love-blood pumping apparatus in our chest we have soft pink, green, mocha, brown, black, white, purple, mahogany hides that get all tingly when someone special is near our sides we all have a food grinding balloon in our bellies that get all fluttery when we are nervous we all have a way of expressing our lovely emotional ways in our own personal services

We’ve built a world defined by how very different we all are with a desire to so very much be the same

we all have the capacity to identify together

with these strange things called smiles and frowns So although we are oh so different complex and intricate and so prone to blame we really are all the same Solicited by Canyon Crest Academy editors

56 POETRY

The Best Place To Be BY GLADYS MASISTA

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ou were there when we needed you You gave us shelter You housed over a million families Motivation came from you Your environment and your people Kibera is the best place because we are able to house all Since 1963 independence came knocking Your existence began People were too congested You were able to house all of us Kibera is the best place to be Schools, hospitals, centers, houses You have good leaders Journalists, politicians and rappers Kibera the is best place to be

The Plant and The Woman BY WARDA YUSUF

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ater is the center of growth A human being is like a flower Shades, a glass that cracks and breaks A woman is like a colorful flower That is grown in human rich soil A farmer who loves the plant Benefits of the plant plays vital games Serving and breathing The plant in the core The farmer The plant of the future The plant that stands firm Burying grace which is the mother The woman

Pictured from the left are Beverly (Grade 10), Wandera (Grade 12), and Seru (Grade 12). They are performing a poem.

Written at Kibera Girls’ Soccer Academy

POETRY 57

News and Updates SOCIAL ACTION THE LAST WORD

A look inside GlobalVantage’s latest social action project. Liana Merk reflects on the significance of “Conflict” as a theme for Issue 11.

About Our Social Action Projects At Global Vantage, our mission is not only to share stories, but also to strengthen our local and global community through our Social Action Projects. As we collect stories, we develop relationships, shed light on issues, and often discover specific projects we can undertake to help to reduce or resolve these issues. This is where the concept of Social Action Projects was born. Global Vantage works independently to plan, coordinate, and manage our projects. As you read about our completed and current Social Action Projects, please consider the contribution you can make to ensure that we will continue to make a difference in our community.

Helping Babies Breathe Project - $1,200 By Anthony Oliverio Traditionally, Global Vantage embarks upon social action projects in response to particularly inspiring articles published in the magazine. This year, we deviated from that protocol when we were approached with the opportunity to save lives by partnering with the Helping Babies Breathe Project in its effort to send neonatal resuscitation kits abroad. Our project contributed five NeoNatalie newborn resuscitation simulators, complete with copious educational materials, to the Navy’s Project Handclasp. As part of Project Handclasp, the kits that we provided traveled with Navy personnel to Papua New Guinea and are being used to teach native Papuans how to save the lives of their newborns. This type of education is crucial, given that Papua New Guinea has one of the largest infant mortality rates in the world, largely due to the lack of widespread knowledge of newborn resuscitation techniques. Fortunately, we are already beginning to receive updates from instructors using our kits, and they continue to reaffirm the positive impacts our NeoNatalie devices have on the Papuans. The photographs below illustrate the engagement between Navy personnel and their eager “students” as potentially lifesaving information is conveyed. To learn more about the benefits of our project and gain a deeper understanding of the experiences of members of the Navy’s Project Handclasp, please look for a project follow-up article in Issue 12 of Global Vantage.

58 NEWS AND UPDATES

The Notre Dame Cathedral. Photo from Thomas Dixon’s trip to France.

Find GlobalVantage Online! We are expanding our online presence through our website (Vantage.theGJP.org) and social networking platforms like Facebook and Twitter. Find us online by searching for “Global Vantage,” or simply use the QR codes to the right to go directly to our Facebook and Twitter pages. Subscribers will receive updates on articles and Chapter news. Have a question or a comment? You can register on our website to post comments on specific articles. If you wish to communicate with the staff, feel free to message us on either Facebook or Twitter or email vantage@thegjp.org. NEWS AND UPDATES 59

The Last Word BY LIANA MERK, CCA 2017, EDITOR

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onflict, the theme of Issue 11, may be a loaded topic to discuss, but it is undoubtedly one of the most important. After all, society is defined by the continuous change and development it engenders. Conflict is all around us. It is a constant presence in society, and its veins run deep. The consideration of the conflicts around us carves the path for an improved society as a whole. We evolve by learning from others and grow by taking in stories of love and loss from one another. By sharing our emotions through writing, it’s possible to connect and shape the lives of so many. Conflict, and the valuable judgements that accompany it, often requires us to reflect on who we truly are, and its ubiquity allows us to sympathize with and grow closer to those that share in this shared human experience. The ongoing conflict of our world is arguably one of the best opportunities to learn about one another. The questions of how conflict arises, how it is managed, and how it is resolved can ultimately lead to a better world. Perhaps we can begin to understand those around us and, piece by piece, shape the future of our society. I hope the articles within this issue of Global Vantage have opened your eyes to the experiences of others and inspired you to share your own stories within your community.

A poster from the celebration of KGSA’s ninth anniversary.

60 NEWS AND UPDATES

A picture of Kibera Girls’ Soccer Academy.

Support GLOBAL VANTAGE Global Vantage would like to thank all of its donors who made this issue possible. To offset the printing costs, we rely on readers like you to support our efforts. With your help, we are able to bring you stories from various generations, perspectives, and parts of the world. As you enjoy the stories on the preceding pages, please consider donating in one of the following ways: Subscriptions: An annual subscription costs $50 and gives you three issues of the magazine along with a Global Vantage T-shirt. To subscribe, please visit vantage. thegjp.org/subscribe where you will be guided through the process. Donations: To donate, visit secure.thegjp.org and designate “Global Vantage” in the provided space. You will have the option to specify the amount. Advertisements and Corporate Sponsorships: If your company is interested in sponsoring an issue of Global Vantage or placing an advertisement, please contact us at vantage@thegjp.org.

Colophon Issue 11 of Global Vantage was created using Adobe InDesign CC on Apple Macbook Pro computers. The section headers in this issue were set in Century Gothic Bold (46 pt.), the article titles were set in Century Gothic (26 pt.), the article body text was set in Perpetua (10 pt.), the author’s names were set in Optima (12 pt.), the biographies and captions were set in Minion Pro Bold Italic (9.5 pt.), the footnotes were set in Perpetua (7 pt.), and the Staff List and Colophon were set in Century Gothic (8 pt.). The magazine’s 64 pages are printed on 80# paper, gloss finish, saddle stitch, full color. 1,000 copies have been produced at the cost of $5,000 dollars. The magazine template was designed by Alexandra Cortes, Gabrielle Clarke, Rachel Perelman, Delaney Miller, and Mina Fardeen. For all other design and layout credits, please reference the Staff List on the inside front cover. If you would like more information or wish to reproduce any articles featured in this magazine, please contact the editing staff at: nmarr@pacificridge.org.

NEWS AND UPDATES 63

Canyon Crest Academy