by Heather Plett | Feb 5, 2007 | Uncategorized
At first, when Swampwitch announced the theme for this Fun Monday, I just couldn’t decide what to highlight as the most memorable posts I’d either read or written. So I took my time thinking about it and didn’t end up signing up. Today, I’m at home with a sick child, and after too many hours of being awake during the night, holding her hair away from her face while she vomitted into the toilet, I just can’t focus on all the things I SHOULD be doing. Instead of cleaning the house or doing laundry or writing those articles that I need to write for work, I spent a little time surfing and reliving blog memories. Now I’m ready to partake of all the fun.
There have been lots of memorable posts that have provided wonderful insight into the lives of my many new blog friends, but this time around, I decided to keep it in the family. Today’s theme – the beauty of being “Aunty”. The following posts are about some of the wonderful people who have entered my life as nieces and nephews, and the equally incredible people who are their Mommies.
My sister ccap has been blogging about as long as I have. At first, we didn’t tell each other we were doing it, but it didn’t take long for the secret to get out. Her memorable post is called “Grace” and it’s about the long journey from being “favoured Aunt” to “the one and only Mommy who soothes my tears and fears”. Ccap has been an incredible Aunty to my daughters, and in fact they often think of her as their “second mom”. But as every Mommy knows, the leap from Aunty to Mommy, especially if it is long in coming, is still a huge and significant one.
My sister-in-law, Accidental Poet, has also been blogging nearly as long as I have. One day she sent me an email that said “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.” And thus we stepped into each other’s blog worlds. Her memorable post is actually a series of posts that have the theme of “Seven Years Ago”. The seven years ago that she was referring to was the incredible event of adopting a very special little boy named B. The first of the series is here, and it’s actually about the death of her father which preceded the entry of B into their lives. Of the series, my personal favourite is the one in which I met little B – a very unexpected and delightful event that will forever rank among the favourite moments of my life.
The two little people at the centre of these posts are just two of the seven little people who call me Aunty. Each one of them is special and unique, and if any of the other parents blogged, I’d probably link to them too. There is something incredibly delightful about watching these little people come into the world and grow into the people they were meant to be.
by Heather Plett | Feb 5, 2007 | inspiring people, Leadership
“Women can’t think.” That’s what Elizabeth Milton was told the first time she visited the Afar Region. She’d been recently hired by Support for Sustainable Development, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the Afar people build more sustainable livelihoods in the drought-prone Afar region of Ethiopia by building water diversion projects to irrigate newly developed farmland. The Afar people are traditionally nomadic people who follow their livestock from one grazing area to the next. With drought occurring increasingly more frequently, however, and more and more people and livestock competing for the same forage space, their livelihoods are becoming less viable every year.
The men of the local village had gathered to meet with Elizabeth to discuss the development of canals and irrigation systems. She asked to hear from the women, but was told in no uncertain terms that here in the Afar, women could not be trusted to have opinions or thoughts on important issues such as water resources. They could be relied on to do much of the manual labour, like hauling water, building houses, herding livestock, and providing food for their families, but they could not think. Men did the thinking for them.
“That’s why I decided to stay,” Elizabeth told me when I asked her what had motivated her to spend the last three years in a remote camp, far from her family and friends, in harsh desert conditions. “I had to prove to them that women really can think.” There was a twinkle in her eye when she said it.
At the base camp in the Afar region, Elizabeth leads a staff that varies from 50 to 80 people, depending on the stage of the project they’re working on. In addition to the paid staff, who fill roles such as agronomists, engineers, and construction site supervisors, there are hundreds of local labourers who dig ditches and build dams in exchange for food to feed their families. The project is impressive in its scale and it’s difficult to imagine what it would take to lead such an operation.
Elizabeth is not what you’d expect when you think of a bold female leader out to change the world. She’s petite and shy, with an easy smile on her attractive face. When we visited her and her team, at first glance she could easily have been mistaken for one of the kitchen staff. Demanding no special attention or honour as “the boss”, she quietly went about ensuring that we had cold beverages to refresh us after our journey, and could later be found grinding coffee and washing our dishes.
She’s only twenty-four years old, but already she’s done more to change the world than many people do in a lifetime. “I love my country,” she told me, when I asked why she’d pursued a career in development. “I know we are capable of great things. But we must first ensure that our people have enough to eat. If Ethiopia has any hope for the future, it has to be in its own people.”
Though she’s clearly passionate about her work, Elizabeth’s three years in the Afar have been fraught with challenges. There were multiple counts against her, in those early days. Not only was she a woman, she was young and seemingly inexperienced. In addition, she’s a Christian in a predominately Muslim region. Building trust among the locals took a considerable amount of energy and commitment. “It was very hard at the beginning,” she said. “Nobody really believed I could do it. I often felt like I was in over my head, and I was lonely. And I didn’t always believe it would work.” Plus, coming from another region of Ethiopia, she didn’t know the local language. In order to work with the Afar people, she had to first learn their language.
Despite the challenges, the marks of success of Elizabeth’s three years of leadership are not hard to find. First of all, there are the obvious signs, like an impressive water diversion system which consists of a well engineered water weir that redirects the water from the river, as well as miles and miles of irrigation ditches. All of this has been dug by manual labour. Where the water has been diverted and the crops have been planted, there are lush gardens that would be the envy of any gardener. While we were there, they’d just harvested some of the biggest red onions I’ve ever seen. There were also juicy tomatoes, spicy red peppers, and acres and acres of maize and grain.
The real success, however, goes much deeper than the harvest from the fertile, freshly watered soil. While we toured the gardens, we were introduced to two women who are members of the local water-users committee, which is now one of the most important governing bodies in the region. To understand how remarkable it is to have women playing these roles, you have to realize that before Elizabeth’s arrival, no woman had ever served in a leadership role in this region before.
“I like to think I influenced the people here,” says Elizabeth, who’s almost too modest to admit she’s changing the world. “They now believe that women can think. Before I came, they didn’t trust their women. But now that they see their bountiful crops, and they realize that this is partly because a woman lead them in this endeavour, they have begun to trust their wives and sisters to serve in leadership roles.”
Another sign of succes is the new village that’s recently sprung up around the SSD base camp. It’s a sign of trust and acceptance that the Afar people choose to be near the staff who brought change to their region. Often wary of Christians, particularly those who come from other regions of the country, these people have made a leap of faith moving in next door. New business has already begun to emerge as well. In a tiny shop in front of a woman’s home, you can now by fabric, candles, and various other household items. Another important sign of positive change is the increased enrolment in school. When SSD first began working in the region, only one child attended the local school. Now there are nearly fifty.
In the evening, after we’d visited the canals and field that had all been developed under Elizabeth’s leadership, we were invited to the village school where a group of young women and men gathered to perform their local dance. While we watched, several young school children clustered around Elizabeth. Affectionately, she put her arms around one of the young girls. It was a simple gesture, but to me it was the picture of hope.
In many ways that they don’t understand yet, the future looks much brighter for these young girls than it did before Elizabeth Milton arrived in their village. Some day, Elizabeth will be only a distant memory, but when they have opportunities to take on more and more leadership roles, they will have her to thank.
by Heather Plett | Feb 3, 2007 | Uncategorized
Scattered thought #1 – Nikki has been begging us for a two-piece bathing suit. After a party (involving a hot-tub) with her girlfriends a few weeks ago, she has repeatedly told us that “EVERYONE has one” (which, translated could very well mean one or two of them do). She used to have one – a nice modest suit – before she lost half of it. Last weekend, we got the bi-annual garbag bags full of hand-me-down clothes from my generous friend Suzanne, and wouldn’t you know it – there’s a two-piece bathing suit in her size. EXCEPT – this wasn’t the nice modest suit she’d had in the past. The bottom was fine, but the top – well, can we say “string bikini”? When she walked out of the bedroom, her daddy took one look at her and his jaw dropped in horror. Though she’s only ten, she has already developed curves, and our sweet little girl looked dangerously “hot” in this little number. Of course, the first thing out of her daddy’s mouth was “you will NEVER wear that in public!” To which he was met with a barrage of retorts. “BUT – it’s JUST a bathing suit. What’s the big deal?”
Well, what IS the big deal? I’d really like to know, from those of you who have raised pre-teen and teen girls, what your reactions would be. I don’t want to be an uptight mom with a long list of “thou shalt nots”, but I also don’t want my ten-year-old daughter being gawked at by hormonal teenage boys or dirty old men with nasty thoughts on their minds. But – how do you explain this to her in a way that she’ll understand but not get totally freaked out and self-conscious about the way boys look at her?
Scattered thought #2 – Somewhat related to the above scattered thought, yesterday, while the girls and I were splashing around at the Pan Am Pool with some friends (Nikki was in her MODEST bathing suit), there were also a group of young teenagers playing a game with a beach ball. One of the girls jumped on one of the boys and held him down. He said “what are you doing?” Her response was “I’m raping you.” Huh?? When did RAPE become funny?
Scattered thought #3 – Just like they say at the Oscars – “It’s just an honour to be nominated.” Along with a number of my excellent blogging friends, I have been nominated for “best writing” over at the Share the Love Blog Awards. Gee thanks! I’m tickled! If you feel so inclined, you can vote for me here. And give a nod to some of our other friends while you’re there.
Scattered thought #4 – My lovely sister and her equally lovely husband are taking the girls for a sleepover tonight. Of course the girls are thrilled, but ya wanna know the best part? We get to have DATE NIGHT! Yay! A night alone with my beloved – you can’t go wrong with THAT!
Scattered thought #5 – Hmmmm… I wonder if Scattered thought #1 or 2 will bring some undesirable google searches my way? If you’ve come here by googling nasty words – GO AWAY! You’re not welcome here and you WON’T find any pictures of prepubescent girls in bathing suits.
Scattered thought #6 – The girls and I just went shopping for hockey sticks this afternoon. This winter, they’ve suddenly become quite passionate about skating and are all rather interested in playing some fun scrimmage games of hockey the next time we hit the ice. And after my night of hockey with the “W.I.L.D. Women”, I’m looking forward to the next time, now that I have my own stick!
Scattered thought #7 – The other day, out of the blue, Maddie said “Mom, life is like a bowl full of spaghetti.” She didn’t have an explanation, but it left me wondering what deep meaning might lurk behind her random thought. Perhaps we’re all just a bunch of noodles covered in sauce? Perhaps we’ve got nothing but squashed tomatoes to look forward to in our future? Perhaps we stick together and get all clumpy if overcooked? Hmmm…
by Heather Plett | Feb 1, 2007 | Uncategorized
In the paper this morning, there was an article about this book on the blogosphere. Apparently the author thinks that we (bloggers) are “isolated and lonely, living in a virtual reality instead of forming real relationships or helping to change the world.” It gets even better. Blogging is “melancholic and illusionary” and the community of support we find is “not real”.
Gee thanks, Mr. Keren, for so glibly dismissing our chosen form of expression and community building.
C’mon though – if this WERE my fantasy world, don’tcha think I could come up with something a little better than this? Not that there’s anything wrong with my life, but I’d at least have created a maid. Or even just a laundry slave. And maybe a lovely little cottage in the woods. And a writing career with a nice big fat contract that meant I never had to do a nine-to-fiver ever again.
And another thing – who says community can’t be real just because we never see each others’ faces? I suppose you think the support we offer each other is inauthentic and “illusionary”.
Oh and I just have to ask – what have YOU done to change the world lately? Please tell me so I can toss aside this senseless blogging and follow your lead. I may be wrong, but I don’t think writing a book about how pathetic other people are counts for “changing the world”.
Maybe you should try blogging for awhile and see if perhaps there is some merit in sharing your thoughts and feelings, getting to know people from other places and other cultures, getting advice on life’s dilemnas, getting inspired by how other people are changing their little corners of the world, and practising the art of expressing yourself through the written word.
But what do I know? I’m just a lonely and isolated blogger living in my melancholy virtual reality.
by Heather Plett | Jan 31, 2007 | Uncategorized
The next time I get one of those letters in the mail that says “thanks for your submission, but we can’t use it in our publication at this time”;
OR
the next time I tell myself there are so many better things I could do with my time than writing(like doing laundry, for example);
OR
the next time I assume every other writer is better than me and I’m simply wasting my time;
I will remember that Vicki said this of me:
“Her writing has this ability to cut to the core of my person. She can put into words things that only constrict me into a mental breakdown!”
or this:
“She can take the passing thoughts that flutter through our minds and put them down into words that make you say out-loud, ‘Yes, how did you know?'”
and I will smile.
Wow! I hardly feel worthy of such high praise, but I will accept it graciously and try to remember that any gifts I have been given are meant to be shared. You are more than welcome to partake – provided you share yours in return!
Thank you Vicki for lifting my spirits in such a beautiful, heartfelt way. Now the rest of you should run on over and visit Vicki, because she’s one of those people you will feel almost instantly could become your best friend. I think, if we spent an afternoon together, we’d barely stop laughing long enough to take a bite of that delicious apple cake she makes! (Which reminds me – I have some apples that need to be used soon… hmmm…)
