Booming Boomer
I wonder why I can't be one of those booming boomers who is creating something and/or doing something new and exciting post age 50. From afar, if you didn't know me, it would seem as if I was fully engaged in a journey of reinvention and self-realization. After all, I am in graduate school to get my master's degree in communications -- which I expect to finish by no later than December of 2007. I am teaching at the University of North Florida -- various journalism classes.
I am in yoga classes. am an avid reader. To others appear to be a successful and loving mother of two teen-age boys, sometimes I agree, other times I think I just haven't lived up to my expectations as far as they are concerned. But the way I view myself is much differently. I am teaching and studying because I don't know what else to do. I have not been able to get a job since I was "restructured" out of my position at the University of Florida in July 2005. I feel fat, awkward and has been pointed out to me by "friends" -- have a very low sense of self-esteem. True perhaps, but I didn't need to hear it. What would I want to be doing -- when I see the books -- the boomer books -- as evidenced by USA Today's article today -- I want to be writing. People always tell me I write well -- I don't know if it's true -- but really and truly what I want to be when I grow up is a writer. Maybe blogging is the way to start.
I am babbling now because I don't expect anyone to read th is except myself. And I will be extremely humiliated and embarassed should anyone else dip into this. Maybe I will ch ange the name so it doesn't carry my name on it. After all, google can probably make its way into anything and who knows what key word I might have inadvertently slipped in here.
Off to yoga now, my friends. Later.
Retiring in America --
Once upon a time, I thought I would retire when I reached a certain age. Of course, when I thought that way, that certain age was way off in the distance, something too far from my reality of the time to even comprehend.
Now, like so many of us who are part of the baby boomer generation, I am approaching that certain age. And retirement, rather than a certainty, seems as unlikely to be part of my future as winning the lottery --
A few months ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a seminar on retirement issues for journalists sponsored by the National Press Foundation. No, the seminar was not about the issues confronting journalists who retire as I was frequently asked for those few of us who may be able or There was a time when I thought that when I grew up and entered the ranks of the "older Americans" I would get to retire. What did this mean? According to the online dictionary definition, retire is "to withdraw from office, business, or active life, usually because of age. Retirement as we used to think of it
Who is the Ugly American
Who is the Ugly American?
I had this discussion with my son. He had some interesting insights, from the perspective of a much younger person. He noted that when he went to Nicaragua a few years ago with his brother, he had a much better time of it than his younger brother did. (Tiffen is 18 now, but was 16 at the time. His brother, Michael, now 16, was 14.) Although both had traveled extensively as very young children when I lived abroad, this was the first international trip they had taken on their own, and since we moved (back) to the United States.
A couple of things he pointed out had to do with dress and with attitude. For example, he said Michael wore his hair much longer than most teenage males in Nicaragua. At the time, Michael was also very much into skate-boarding and had adopted that mode of dress – another look that kept him apart. He also said that although Michael was always polite, he never demonstrated any enthusiasm for any of the activities suggested by his family in Nicaragua.
In our conversation, he said that Michael just wanted to do things the way he did them back here in Gainesville and had a hard time dealing with the different ways things are done in Nicaragua. Although both my sons lived in Nicaragua when they were younger, Michael has become the consummate all-American boy and his interests are decidedly “gringo.” Tiffen, on the other hand, has a greater curiosity about the world at large and has worked to recapture his Spanish language skills.
Other thoughts have to do with some experiences of my own.
I recall something that jumped out at me when I visited Haiti many years ago. There were some black American tourists in the restaurant where I was eating and my companion – noticing how loud they were – had some disparaging comments about their behavior. The biggest insult, however, was when he called them “white blacks.” When I asked what he meant by that, he said they were acting just like Americans – or in the Haitian parlance, like whites – in other words the proverbial ugly American.
I don’t think most Americans necessarily go out of their way to be “the ugly American.” Quite simply, I believe there is just a lack of awareness about doing things some other way. Instead of adopting a philosophy of “when in Rome,” many Americans expect the Romans to do as they do. It can make for antiseptic and uninspiring travel – why stay at a Holiday Inn in Prague or go to a Starbucks in Beijing or a McDonald’s in Lima. If that’s all you are after, you might as well just stay at home.
Personally, I have never had any real ugly American experiences. I don’t stand out as an American per se – at least that’s what I’ve been told – and am often taken for someone from a Mediterranean country or when in Latin America as someone perhaps from Brazil.
I do speak Spanish and I used to have enough of an affinity for languages that I could pick up the basics of getting around wherever I was, so that I did not immediately come across as someone expecting everyone around me to speak my language – English. And I’ve never shied away from using public transportation which provides a whole other kind of perspect
I think other ways Americans traveling abroad for the first time can come across as “ugly” is by our consistent demand for speed and for doing things fast. I’ve seen Americans described as rude because they wanted to get down to business immediately upon sitting down for lunch instead of realizing that the lunch process was a process and that two or three hours could be spent over a meal before business might be conducted.
And of course, it is never smart to make comparisons with how things are done at home.
For better or worse, you are where you are. That’s one sure-fire way to be considered “ugly.”
My Racial Identify -- do I have one?
Racial Identity
Racial Identity I found this assignment very difficult to complete and carry out – but the best way I can approach it now is to look at it from the perspective of a classroom teacher dealing with teenagers from lower socio-economic backgrounds. I have been working as a substitute teacher in the Gainesville public school system for the past year and it has been an eye-opener to say the least. I can see the differences in behavior, dress and attitude (within the classroom) of those teens who are from (apparently) middle class homes and those who are not – between those who have some interest in a professional future and those who do not. The cultural group I am looking at is made up of teens that are considered potential high-school dropouts. They are assigned to classes like Advanced Reading and/or Advanced Math – which is code for saying these are the kids who can’t read, who can’t add and who don’t care. My stereotype for what I see in these teens cuts across racial or ethnic lines – it’s not a question of color or heritage, but rather of where they might fall on the socio-economic ladder. They shuffle into the classroom with shoes that are too big and too loose – quite often flip-flops, plastic swim or beach sandals or bedroom slippers. (I don’t know why or how bedroom slippers became a “look” but they have. The boys wear pants that are two or three sizes too big with the idea being that the waistline of your pants should fall just below your hips so that you are always having to pull your pants up and so that your underpants are exposed. The shirts are huge –also way too big, although now it seems that the trend is to wear a shirt that may be the right size over a shirt big enough for two people to fit into it. The girls go to the other extreme. There the idea is for the upper garment to be a few sizes too small, way too tight and draw attention to cleavage. Skirts or shorts that skim over the tops of the thighs are de-rigor. Dangling earrings finish off the outfits. Both boys and girls come equipped with I-pods, headphones, and plenty of Attitude – and I do mean Attitude. They show a decided lack of respect for anyone in authority – even the principal of the school. It “ain’t” ever their fault. They never did done it. And what you mean anyway by calling on me.? They don’t walk into the classroom … they shuffle or stroll or just kind of bebop in to the beat of the music on their headphones. When they decide to go along for a while and do some work, there is a flurry of pencil-sharpening, requests for paper and requests for help because they never, never understand what they are supposed to be doing. This is the stereotype that I see and it does impact my ability to communicate with teens who are members of that particular youth culture. I was exposed to this culture by my forays into the public school system. We don’t speak the same language; we don’t have the same perspectives so it is difficult to put our encounters into any type of meaningful context – for them as well as for myself. As to the second part of this exercise, my racial background is white or Caucasian; my ethnicity is Jewish. It is important to me to make that distinction and to identify myself as Jewish – not by religion so much as by my ethnic background. I grew up in Newark, New Jersey in a neighborhood that at the time was primarily Jewish or in the parlance of today, Jewish-American. It is the Newark that Phillip Roth writes about – in fact he is the most illustrious graduate of my high school, Weequahic High. (I am the second most illustrious graduate!). When I was a very young child, I didn’t think too much about my identity in any way because everyone else was just like me. There was an occasional Catholic in the neighborhood – we knew they were different because they went to parochial school and had to wear uniforms. Or there was the cute Italian kid on safety patrol who I had a crush on when I was in fifth grade and he was in sixth. But that was the extent of it. I became more aware of other racial identities during the early days of the Civil Rights movement. A few black families moved into our neighborhood. We did play together and I don’t think any of us kids thought much of it – though I suspect our parents did. And as I grew up, my predominately Jewish neighborhood, changed into one that was racially and ethnically mixed. I think everyone got along reasonably well until the Newark riots – then the lines were drawn and as best I can tell, they haven’t been undrawn to this day. Most of us of Jewish descent (speaking collectively) pride ourselves on being liberals and having a social conscious that sends us down a path “of doing good.” Education has always been something that is valued among Jews – some say it is a leftover from earlier times of pogroms against Jewish communities in Europe and elsewhere – the concept being that physical possessions can be lost or taken away from you, but that what you carry within you – in your heart and in your head – stays with you always. Thus the drive for education and knowledge. I do know within my own experience as a second generation Jewish-American, I can count on one hand the people I knew who did not go on to college. The pursuit of higher education was a given. In any case, I believe this sense of Jewish identity has influenced me in all that I do – and in my communications with other people. We or I do not want to be considered racist, prejudiced, right-wing, etc. so we/I will bend over backgrounds to be thought of as liberal, understanding, etc. I don’t know if it is a fault or a virtue, but it is with me to this day – even as a substitute teacher.
Intercultural Relationships
Intercultural Relationships
For most of my adult life, my intimate relationships have been intercultural – most specifically with men from Latin America. My former husband and the father of my children is Nicaraguan; I have also been involved in serious long-term relationships with a man from Chile and another from Puerto Rico. (There’s more – but I am NOT going to tell you everything here, let’s just say I am going to stay within the realm of that first circle of information exchange – perhaps a dip into the second, but no more! My intimate intercultural relationships were in part a result of proximity. I went to live and work in Puerto Rico in my 20’s, a decision that set me on path that took me to various locations in Latin America throughout my adult life. Because I was quite interested in “blending” into the cultural milieu in which I was living, I suspect that in terms of my intimate personal relationships, I was probably most engaged in relationships that were a mix of submission and consensus styles. However, even though I have been living in the United States again for more than ten years, it has been here that I have encountered more difficulties in terms of mastering intercultural relationships. Although this is the country in which I born and lived through my teen-age years, I never really experienced adulthood here until I returned from Latin America. It hasn’t been easy. In terms of personal relationships, it’s only been in the last few years that I have found myself engaged with men from my own cultural background – Jewish-Americans, which frankly has been mystifying and frustrating. Perhaps because I have lived so long and so intensely outside of the United States and outside of the Jewish culture (not religion, but culture and there is a distinction) – I have encountered many difficulties in getting along with men who share my cultural roots. I have not encountered these difficulties in regards to friendships with women – and have many cross-cultural and intercultural friendships with women as well as with women with whom I share my roots. Perhaps my best experience in intercultural, interethnic and even interracial living was during my years in Puerto Rico. In my experience, most of the people I developed friendships and other intimate relationships with were a little of this and a little of that – and their skin colors ran the gamut from the blackest of black to the whitest of white – and everything in between. My epiphany in Puerto Rico was at a party where many of us were engaged in an intense conversation about something – I can’t recall what, but given the passions of the moment, it was probably politics. Puerto Rico was my first stop after living in the United States and as I looked around the circle, I realized that I wasn’t thinking of Cari as White, or Ana as Black or Carlos with his café con leche skin tones. I was simply thinking of them as Cari or Ana or Carlos. Perhaps this may sound simplistic, but that sense of multi-hued friendships where not only was skin color not a consideration – but not even noticed was something quite special for me and something that I did not get to duplicate in other Latin American contexts – or for that matter here. In any case that is my “romance” with Puerto Rico and one of the reasons I still think of the island with such nostalgia. Here in the United States, I am still struggling to overcome the hurdles of “intercultural communication” even with “my own kind.” Confusing, isn’t it?
Intercultural Competence
Intercultural Competence
I was not able to partner with anyone on this so I did this exercise on my own. However, it has a certain relevance to real-life for me.
There are many things I would look for to judge intercultural competence in someone might hire. I do some consulting work with a public relations/marketing agency in Jacksonville. Since we are trying to expand our reach into the Hispanic market, there are intercultural issues that we would need to assess.
Some questions I would put to a job applicant to judge their intercultural competence would include:
• Whether they speak a second language (in other words do they linguistic knowledge)
• Whether they have traveled outside the United States and in what capacity? In other words did they live or study abroad or just pass through somewhere as a tourist. I would need to follow up with questions about what they found the most interesting and what they found the most difficult about working, living or traveling outside the United States. These answers would help me determine the candidate’s tolerance for ambiguity and their potential to empathetic or enter into modes or transpection or cross-cultural empathy.
• Regardless of whether the candidate was Hispanic, I would want to delve into their perceptions of Latin America and Hispanic or Latino culture. What I am looking for here is measures of conscious and unconscious competence and conscious or unconscious incompetence. In order words, I want to know if they consider all Hispanics one and the same or if they understand what makes a Puerto Rican distinct from say a Chilean, even though both share a common language and common heritage.
Most importantly, I seek an employee who is motivated to expand upon his or her own intercultural abilities. Martin & Nakayama are absolutely correct when they point out that motivation is key. They wrote that “if we aren’t motivated to communicate with others, it probably doesn’t matter what other skills we possess” I agree. I give an example from my own past to show what motivation can do.
When I was a young adult living in Puerto Rico, I went to work for the English-language newspaper there, The San Juan Star. Of course there were many U.S. Americans working there – some of whom had been living in Puerto Rico for more than 20 years. Very few of them spoke any Spanish and regardless of the relationship with the United States, Spanish is the lengua franca in Puerto Rico. They motivated me to NOT be like them, and I went out of my way to learn Spanish. That motivation then changed the course of my life and continues to have an impact today. So in coming back full circle to our assignment in terms of making a decision on a new hire, I would not bring anyone into our fold who did show the motivation to embrace new dimensions of intercultural communication.
Inisghts into Cultural Differences
I had my first insight into cultural differences and how they might be perceived when I brought home my Tupac Resurrection book. I asked my son to help me get my groceries out of the car and when he saw the Tupac book lying on the front seat, he asked me, with amazement in his voice..”What are you doing reading the Tupac book? Do you even know who he is? I told him I was reading it for a class assignment, which instantly had him draw the conclusion that my class was “awesome.” However, were it not for this assignment, I would NEVER have picked up this book – or looked at the video. Tupac’s type of music – or even what I thought he stood for is is not my thing.
However, what I did get from reading the book were some real insights into growing up poor and growing up black during Tupac’s time as a child. His take on poverty is right on the mark – and the respect and love he showed for his mother was also on target. He put into words what a lot of people may feel, but cannot express. I strongly disagree with what he had to say about not having a full-time father or a man in his life when he was growing up. “You need a man to teach you how to be a man.” Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Tupac gave us an idea of what it is like to live in the downward spiral of poverty – and how his strong mother could become a drug addict. There is a culture of poverty and a culture of drug use and abuse. He, too, got involved with drugs – but his creative talents gave him a way out and a way to tell about what he saw. “As an artist, as a rapper. I’m gonna show the most graphic details of what I see in my community and hopefully they’ll stop it quick.”
(I got the book based on the video (or was it vice versa) from the public library when I could not find the video quickly at my neighborhood Hollywood Video.) Perhaps that is one indication of differences in cultures. I am used to borrowing books and videos for “free” from the public and/or university library system – it is a (cultural?) habit that I developed as a child and it has stuck with me. For those of you who are younger, I will remind you that those were the days when video stores did not exist (nor did videos) and books were meant to be borrowed not bought. I still think of libraries as one of the last, great bargains available to us in the United States and I take advantage of it.
Over the past year, I have worked occasionally as a substitute teacher in the Alachua County school system. This has exposed me to the culture of pre-teens and teenagers within the public school system and to the cultural gaps that exist between me and the young people in the classroom. So what I see as “good” culture and what I see as the student culture are quite disparate.
In the context of these teenagers, culture is power. They speak a language (we) the adult elite don’t always understand. They adopt habits and dress styles that we don’t grasp either. It is a statement that keeps them (the youth) from feeling dominated by us (the adults or within the school system, the teachers and administrators
I do NOT like the dress style (pants that are falling down on the boys—skirts that aren’t there on the girls – piercings, tattooing, shaggy-looking hair (strange coming from a child of the 60s) or Mohawks. Am I becoming my parents – who might have had the same complaints about a teenage me?
I am also disturbed by the constant reliance on what I consider foul language. The language is not employed in conversations with adults (power relationships) but it is certainly bandied about as they talk with each other.
I am confronted with my limitations on accepting other cultural experiences almost every week when my younger son has band practice at our home – my son is the drummer – their music style (ska?) gives me a headache. But I am glad – as a parent – to have them in our home.
When it comes to interacting with people whose cultural background is different from my own, I am quite comfortable with Latinos – perhaps because I lived in Latin America myself for many years and feel a real affinity for the lifestyle, the broad culture and the focus, as our readings pointed out, on the present. I had more time for life and relationships there than I ever seem to have in this country. Would I return to living in another country if I could? In a heartbeat, and something I think about doing when my youngest son finishes high school two years from now
Critical Cultural Approach to Intrercultural Communication or the lack thereof
For me, the critical/cultural approach would almost always be more effective in studying intercultural interaction or conflict. I think it’s absolutely necessary to meld the different approaches as espoused by the critical/cultural perspective – and that is something the psychological approach does not do. I also believe the psychological approach has too much of a Western orientation – in that the values and concerns put forward through psychology come within the context of our norms and may not reflect worldviews of other cultures.
I lived in Puerto Rico during the 1970s at a time when there was a lot of fervor within Puerto Rican independence circles. This generated a lot of debate about a Puerto Rican “identity” and what needed to be done to keep Puerto Rican culture from being absorbed by the U.S. way of life. As a young woman – and young idealist – I was particularly sensitive to those concerns. I worked as a reporter for the English-language newspaper there, coincidentally the most liberal mainstream paper on the island at the time. Most of the Puerto Rican staffers – while quite fluent in English were staunch “independentistas.”
My way of being culturally sensitive was to go out of my way to learn Spanish. I was adamant that I was not going to be like some long-time “gringo” residents of the island who after 20 years in Puerto Rico could barely stammer out a sentence in Spanish. So I learned and absorbed and immersed myself in Puerto Rico and found out that not only was I learning a language but I was learning a culture, too.
I bring this up in the context of what kind of approach to take when studying an intercultural interaction or conflict. There was a lot of misunderstanding between Puerto Ricans and Americans in Puerto Rico at that time – just as there were misunderstandings because of intercultural differences between mainland Puerto Ricans and those on the island. There were different cultural values and different cultural experiences and a psychological approach toward examining these differences would not have sufficed. They needed – and still need – to be viewed within a total political, social and economic context. What led to the Puerto Rican diaspora? Why was (and perhaps still is) it so difficult for so many young Puerto Ricans who have been raised in the U.S. to adjust to life on the island. And what about the blending of languages that we know of today as “Spanglish?” What does this say about intercultural communications?
I also think it is worth considering the ramifications of an issue that has been in the news in the past few days as it pertains to our class and to our discussions of intercultural communications. A mayor of a small town in Texas has proposed a law that would make it a punishable offense to use the “N-word” when referring to people of African-American descent. The mayor of the town of Brazoria, Texas is white.
In an article that I viewed on ABC’s website, Mayor Ken Corley, said he was inspired by comments made by the Rev. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. Corley said he did not believe the use of the N-word was an issue in his town. “It is a national issue he said. “The word is used and abused…it would be great (for the town) to play a leadership role. That is a stand I have decided to take.”
Corley has asked City Council to approve an ordinance that would allow officials to fine offenders up to $500. The City Council has yet to act and of course the proposed law has already come under attack for possible infringements upon free speech. Other critics say you can’t fine people for being stupid, while others feel it may unfairly target whites and not take into account African-Americans who may use the “N-word” among themselves. I think there’s plenty of food for thought here within the realm of intercultural communications. I’m attaching the link to this article so that if you like, you can read it in full.
http://abcnews.go.com/US/print?id=2822656
How I Communicate
My communication and communication-learning style
Like my partner, Renee, I think I have a more direct communication style. My only disclaimer is that I see myself as a bit of a hybrid in the way I communicate. If I like you, if I feel update, if I am in a New York/New Jersey state of mind, I can and will be very direct and very forthright. I am verbal and that was the cultural milieu of my childhood. It was enhanced during the years I spent living in Puerto Rico, and then in Central America where for the most part people say what they think … and think what they say. I felt right at home there.
I also have very little patience with people who are easily offended because they misinterpret something that was said or was done, but don’t say anything about it. That silent style of communication just doesn’t work for me. I prefer to get it out in the open, deal with it and then move on.
Like Renee, I like to talk and use details in my explanation. Sometimes I berate myself for providing too much detail, but it’s who I am, so if you ask me a simple question you may get more of an answer than you expected. On the other hand, going back to my earlier statement about being a hybrid in how I communicate, if I feel sad, depressed or just not in a very good frame of mind, I tend to keep to myself and not say much. I don’t think that’s cultural – but it is a reflection of who I am.
As to learning style, my tendency toward open and direct communication dominates here as well. When I am in a class, I tend to participate in class discussion and say what’s on my mind. I enjoy those exchanges – expressing my views and hearing what others have to say. There is much to be gained. We don’t have that kind of direct exchange in this class with its online learning environment and I miss that.
Las Abuelas de la Plaza de Mayo
The question posed here made me think of the human rights movements in Latin America that took place when democratic governments came back to power replacing military dictatorships.
During the 1970s, repressive military governments ruled in many countries of Latin America. Particularly noted for their brutality were the regimes in Argentina and Chile where thousands of people were “disappeared.” The term “disappeared” come to describe those people who were arrested or detained by members of the military and never seen again. It even became a verb – “to be disappeared.” The disappeared, had of course been murdered but because no official explanation was offered as to what happened to them, they became collectively known as “los disaparecidos” or the disappeared.
By the 1990s, democratic governments had returned to power in both countries and movements were born to find out what happened to the disappeared. The families of those who had lost loved ones needed closure and resolution.
“The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo” or Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo in Argentina became the best-known of these organizations. They were the mothers of sons and daughters who had “been disappeared.” Every Thursday at noon they gathered for a half hour walk around the landmark plaza in the capital city of Buenos Aires to demand answers about the fate of their loved ones.
An off-shoot organization, The Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo Las Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo) worked to locate the children kidnapped along with their parents or born while their mothers were in captivity and return them to their biological families. They had some small successes in reuniting some children with their grandparents or other biological family members.
I covered both organizations and their protests while working as a journalist in Latin America ten years ago. The women involved were brave and heroic – it took a lot of courage to begin their movement at a time when no one wanted to speak out against past abuses. But they did so in a way that almost everyone could relate to – not as political activists (which of course, they were) but as mothers and grandmothers. And within the cultural context of Latin America, it would be difficult if not impossible for authorities to attack and arrest a group of middle-aged women whose placards simply demanded to know – “donde estan?” or where are they? After all, who cannot relate to a mother wanting to know the whereabouts of her child.
Like the civil rights movement of the U.S. in the 1960s, they also utilized the tactics of non-violent confrontation. As Martin and Nakayama wrote (p. 417) “this type of confrontation exposes the injustices of society and opens the way for social change.” Based on what we read, I would see their approach as one of viewing conflict as opportunity – in the sense they confronted the government and other political and economic leaders to demand social change and answers. They got both in a sense.
Their movement also promoted concepts of forgiveness – NOT forgetting. There is a difference. This is not the kind of forgiveness that one would give an errant child. The wrongs that were committed were much more grievance. What the mothers and grandmothers accmplished was not dissimilar to the achievements fo the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa that looked into the racial wrongs and the brutal acts committed that occurred during the apartheid era. In Chapter 12 Martin and Nakayama write about forgiveness “as an option to promoting intercultural understanding and reconciliation.”
The mothers and grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo did help make Argentina whole again.
Intercultural Communication
Intercultural Communication Essay
It’s obvious why this country needs to develop a greater ability to engage in intercultural communications. How else will we stop talking at each other and starting talking to each other.
I did not get to view the movie, Gung Ho, but for another look at intercultural communication based on a real story, I recommend the film, “Freedom Writers.” It is the true story of a young white woman who went to teach in an inner city, recently integrated school in Long Beach, CA. where most authorities had given up on their low achieving, gang-affiliated, and hate-filled inner city teen-agers. The kids were white, African-American, Asian-American, Hispanics – who fought each other at every turn. One Hispanic girl had been taught to stand by “her people” at all costs, even if it meant sending an innocent African American boy to jail for a murder committed by her Mexican-American friend. The movie shows how this teacher not only got her students interested in reading and learning, but taught them to respect each other for their differences and their similarities.
Their introduction to love and tolerance came after one student drew a picture of an African American classmate designed to humiliate him. She used this as a lesson to make them think about what that kind of ridicule can spur – telling them about the Jew-baiting and Jew-bashing that occurred in Nazi Germany, which eventually led to the Holocaust. The kids had never heard of the Holocaust and it made them think – and ended up serving as their first step toward intercultural understanding AND communication.
I used this movie as a point of departure because of what it says about all six imperatives for studying intercultural communications – technological, demographic, economic, peace, self-awareness and ethical. Technology allowed these inner city kids to learn about other people. They learned to respect and to appreciate their own diverse demographics – by tolerating others’ viewpoints and by employing the self-awareness imperative by becoming more attuned to their own backgrounds. The economic imperatives were touched upon when their teacher took on two part-time jobs to be able to buy books for her students and as the academic years progressed, these same students who used to engage in turf wars with each other began to live in peace. And the ethical imperative kicked in as soon as the students railed against the injustice of the Holocaust and could make the connection to their own lives.
We are no longer a melting pot – if ever we were – but a salad of different cultures, colors and ideas. We must learn how to blend the ingredients of this salad to come up with a good mix of people and ideas and not end up tossing it all away because we don’t like mushrooms (or African-Americans) or olives (or Jews). Just an example.
A key barrier to overcoming intercultural conflict is language. Even when we speak the same language, we don’t always express ourselves in the same way. Look at generational differences in speaking English for example – or different ways that Spanish speaking people will use the language to say the same thing in different words. Body language and physical space are other ways that cultural differences get in the way of understanding. For example in Asia, if one takes a business card and simply puts it in a pocket without looking at it, you have offended your counterpart. One must look at the card and examine it in a way we are not accustomed to doing in the United States to keep from (unknowingly) insulting your colleague.
As far as what is to be done by the individual to improve intercultural communications and tolerance for diversity – a first step is listening and then listening again. One could also resolve to do something different – attend an event or take part in an activity outside of one’s cultural circle on a regular basis. Take a language class. When you learn another language you also learn about that culture. Watch foreign language films – the same thing applies. The list is endless, but there’s no time to start like now. This is why I am off to see the movie, Babel, with a friend from Nicaragua, another from Trinidad, and another from right here in north-central Florida.
Identities
Identities
I could look at the question of ascribed and avowed identities as they pertain to me from several different angles, often depending on my own state of mind. When I am well-rested and external factors in my life are moving along in the way I desire, I will be perceived as extroverted, outgoing, communicative, self-confident, etc. in other words my avowed and ascribed identities will be in sync to paint a picture of a positive, dynamic me. Give me a day … or days when nothing seems to go right, when I haven’t gotten enough sleep, when I haven’t put on makeup, when I don’t like the clothes I am wearing, etc. I can come across as a totally different person. My avowed and ascribed persona is someone who is negative, nondescript and uncommunicative. I realize this may not be the point of this exercise but I think internal and external ups and downs influence our self-perceptions and those of others and in turn influence how we communicate and how others communicate with us.
Some of my larger difficulties in relating with others are not so much in terms of cross-cultural experiences as cross-generational experiences. For example, I have done some work as a substitute teacher in Gainesville high schools in the past year – and in the classroom am exposed to dress, language, communication styles, etc. that are anathema to me. If I see it in the movies, it’s OK. If I hear it in a song, it’s OK. If I read about it in a magazine, it’s OK. But up close and personal – I have a hard time dealing with very low-riding pants that look like they are going to fall off with the boxer shorts very exposed on a 16-year-old boy. I don’t understand the fashion sense that dictates a tight-fitting sweater, an extremely short skirt and bedroom slippers as the latest look. And I really don’t get the language where every other word seems to be a “f-this or a f-that”, whether something positive or negative is being expressed when the kids are talking with each other. Neither racial nor ethnic stereotypes come into play here since the kids I am talking about are all shapes, sizes and colors. Class stereotypes could be an influence in this, because the kids who are most engaged in the kind of behavior that I am talking about here are generally the ones who are in the drop-out prevention programs, which generally means they come from lower socio-economic backgrounds. (Or am I stereotyping here?) Still, I think it is the cross-generational barrier that predominates.
Alternate Views of History
Alternate Views of History
I viewed Fahrenheit 9/11 last year and it was a documentary that stayed with me. My own political views tilt toward the left – probably a reflection of some of my own involvement in the Vietnam War protests on college campuses in the 1960’s and 1970’s.
So my own views about our engagement in Iraq are colored by that experience, as well as my experiences viewing wars close-up while a correspondent for CNN in Latin America.
My conclusions – from own personal political and cultural history, are to find value in what Moore has to say. I might not go to the extent that he has, but I find many of his points valid. The problem might be, of course, that in many instances Moore is preaching to the choir – and because of the extremes he takes in making his case, many people are alienated by the film.
The U.S. is a fickle friend and that is one thing that Moore reminds us of in this movie when he recalls the support we as a nation gave to Saddam Hussein in the 1980s.
It is important to put things in perspective and to see the history of past relationships. As a nation, we tend to forget our past – as noted in our Chapter 4 readings. So by providing some historical context, Moore may be trying to bring his viewers to a greater degree of understanding.
But to stay on point – and stick to my own cultural and political values … I can’t help but compare our presence in Iraq to what we did in Nicaragua on a much smaller scale in the 1980s. At that time, Nicaragua was seen as the next threat to the United States by the Reagan administration. Hence, we had the Iran-contra scandal, stemming from the Reagan Administration’s determination to fund the armed, anti-Sandinista contra movement. Did anyone really think that the Sandinistas could do any harm to the United States? As someone who lived and worked in Nicaragua and experienced the gas rationing, the food shortages, the power blackouts that marked daily urban life – it was clear to me that the Washington view of Nicaragua was an exaggeration and far from the reality of what the Nicaraguan government at the time was – and what it sought to achieve. As a journalist, I saw delegation after delegation of U.S. congressional “factfinders” make a one or two-day visit to Nicaragua to investigate the “situation.
They would speak to the usual suspects – opposition clergy, opposition newspaper editors, opposition business leaders, etc. etc. and have one conversation with the English-speaking Foreign Minister. Then they would head to the airport and while still in Nicaragua hold a news conference calling for the overthrow of the Sandinista government. Talk about poor manners if nothing else. I like to compare that on a much smaller scale to accepting an invitation to your home and then before I leave, proceed to tell you everything that is wrong with the way you have decorated your home and chosen to live your life.
So, yes, what I experienced as a war correspondent and journalist in Nicaragua did build upon the political and cultural values that had already become part of my own psyche post the Vietnam War protests.
I was skeptical when it was clear that we were going to invade Iraq because of the lack of success in finding the non-existent weapons of mass destruction that were given as the rationale for the invasion. I remain skeptical about our continued presence there because I
am hard-pressed to find any success stories there – for the U.S. or for the Iraqis. We (as a nation) did not do our homework and did not understand Iraq under Saddam Hussein or before. We didn’t think and now we – and the Iraqis – are paying the price.
The Beginning of Our Story
This assignment was more than an exercise in finding out about my family name and names – it was a trip into the past – and a past of which much of the information as to who, what and where is still unknown. This exercise made me nostalgic and made me cry – in a good way, I suppose, because it brought to mind memories of my girlhood which are long buried. I am only a second generation American. My grandparents were born in Europe; my parents were born in the U.S. in Newark, N.J., as was I. My last name on my father’s side is Lovler. There are no surviving relatives who can tell me anything about the origin of the name – or even if it is an Anglicized version of a different name. None of my grandparents or parents is living. My father’s second wife, who was also his sister’s best friend, is herself, 88 years old. She only recalls that my grandfather came to the U.S. from “somewhere in Russia” and that your grandmother was from somewhere in Poland. Common family history has the name being one of a kind and original. Was it? Who knows? If we wanted to make an educated guess at the meaning of the name, you could tie it to “love” in some fashion, but that is simply an educated guess. Of course, carried forward in the American or U.S. tradition, is the mother’s surname. My mother’s last name was Topper and when I talked with my aunt Gloria, I had better luck. Her father – and my grandfather – was born in Warsaw, Poland. He died when I was four years old. Her mother – and my grandmother – came to the U.S. from Austria. She died in 1940, just before World War II. The name Topper means one who attached the wool to the distaff for spinning. We think he came to the U.S. around 1915, to escape being drafted into the Russian army. His future wife came over on a French boat called La Lorraine. An unknown to me Aunt Sarah, who was married to my grandfather’s cousin, introduced the two when they got to New Jersey. Soon after, they married. My ancestors came to the U.S. to escape the pogroms of Russia. But they did not share much about their past with their children – five daughters -- my mother and my aunts. I am named for my grandmother, Rose. My sister, Sheryl is named for my father’s mother, Sadie. In the Jewish tradition it is customary to name someone for a deceased relative by choosing a name that starts with the same letter. In the telephone conversation I had with my Aunt Gloria to do this assignment, she said she had just gone through this exercise with one of my cousins. And what she realized is how little we all know. “We never talked to parents about things like this and never volunteered the information. … We just didn’t stop to think and ask questions like that and they never volunteered the information because the life they had was a poor life in Europe.” What we could piece together was that my family, like so many other people who emigrated to the U.S. from eastern and southern Europe at the beginning of the 20th century were poor and were leaving behind hard lives in their homelands. “They had no food, no clothing, no homes, and when he Russian pogroms started, a lot of the Jews left Russia and came here,” my Aunt Gloria said. Most of the boats to the U.S. left from Hamburg, Germany, and many would-be emigrants had to literally walk across half of Europe to get to the boats. And that’s the beginning of my story. It continues now with my two sons, Tiffen and Michael. Their last name is Tapia, from their father, Mario Tapia, a Nicaraguan. Tapia, a Spanish surname means protective wall, like the kind kind built to protect castles in medieval times. On their father’s side, they can trace their roots to Spain – their great grandparents immigrated to Nicaragua at the end of the 19th century and settled in a town called Masatepe – where the family still lives. Tiffen was named for my mother, Toby. Michael was named for my father, Morton. And that’s the beginning of their story.
Who am I
Greetings to all. I'm excited about this class and working with all of you. My life is divided into segments right now -- as a professor, as a student, as a public relations consultant and a couple of other part-time activities that I won't bore you with right now. And last, but definitely not least, as the mother of two teenage sons -- one of whom will be going off to college in the fall. I am a former journalist -- used to work for CNN both in the Atlanta newsroom and as a correspondent in Latin America, based in Nicaragua, El Salvador and in Chile. I have traveled and worked in every country in Latin America, including Cuba. I also worked at The Weather Channel, the Associated Press and others. A favorite time was with my first journalism job with The San Juan Star in Puerto Rico. I've worked in public relations and marketing, at the University of Florida, at a Miami-based company working with the Hispanic market and now with an agency in Jacksonville, where I am coordinating Hispanic services. I teach journalism at the University of North Florida -- three classes in TV News Producing, Broadcast Writing, and a general intro to journalism class. That's with my professor hat on. My student hat comes on here for three classes, including this one. I am trying very hard to complete my master's degree by NO later than the end of this year and with luck and a prayer will finish my coursework with the three classes I am taking now. Then "just" a thesis to do. More about me I've lived, worked and traveled in Puerto Rico, Nicaragua, Argentina, Cuba and many other countries, and traveled with former President Jimmy Carter as a member of his delegation to observe elections in Central and South American nations. I spend much of my spare time (ha, as if I have any!) at track meets and rock music performances, enjoying the talents of my two sons. I also like to swim, walk (along the beach, especially), read, go to movies, eat out with friends -- and always enjoy a glass of wine and good conversation. I am also a coffee fanatic. Well, now you probably know more about me than you ever cared to know, so I will sign off for now. I am back now to add a few things I might have overlooked. I speak Spanish and was married to a Nicaraguan, which makes my two sons -- in their words, Jewish Nicaraguan-Americans. (I am of Jewish descent). I speak Spanish. My hidden accomplishment -- again according to my sons -- I make the best gallo pinto (Nicaraguan style rice and beans) outside of Nicaragua! (it's not really true, it's just an approximation, but as long as they're happy who's complaining. My goal for 2007 -- to take an international trip with my sons before my oldest heads off to college (NOT to Latin America, somewhere different). And my second goal in keeping with the first -- to win the lottery!
