by Heather Plett | Dec 15, 2008 | Uncategorized
Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.
It seemed an impossibly archaic legalistic rule
Back on the farm when Mom and Dad napped on Sunday afternoons
Even on bright sunny days late in the harvest season
When crops needed to come off the fields.
Nobody worked on Sunday. Period.
The only work you were allowed was the feeding of people and animals.
Instead, you visited, shared food, and napped.
Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy
I sit impatiently in church, thinking of all the tasks I need to do today.
At home, I start sorting laundry before digging through the cupboards
To find something to feed the children.
Then I settle in to wash yesterday’s dishes.
Before I’ve even had a chance to eat something
I rush out the door to drive the first 2 family members to where they need to be
On the way home, I stop at the store for a few household items
Then rush home to pick up the next 2 family members.
I drive them to the mall where they’re meeting friends.
The first 2 family members are ready to be picked up
So I drive them home and return to the mall.
Their shopping done, I drive the friends to their respective homes
And then return home to sort more laundry.
A quick supper, eaten mostly between vacuum strokes and laundry loads,
I rush out the door for an evening meeting
Where we plan a long list of activities for visiting exchange students.
Meeting done, I’m back home, folding laundry. Sorting. Piling.
Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy
At ten thirty at night, I toss the last load in the dryer
Crawl into bed. Spent.
Exhausted. I need to sleep
Because tomorrow I go back to “work.”
I wish I could figure out how to reclaim the Sabbath
Because I think God is smarter than I am.
by Heather Plett | Dec 12, 2008 | Uncategorized
The political challenges we face in Canada (and even in the U.S.) pale in comparison to what they’re living with every day in Zimbabwe. I just wrote a
press release about a seven million dollar shipment of food we’re delivering there. Unfortunately, it’s a drop in the bucket because the UN predicts that 5.1 million people, nearly half the population of Zimbabwe, will require emergency food aid in the first quarter of 2009. On top of that, they’re saying that they expect about 60,000 people to contract cholera before the outbreak is stopped. And meanwhile,
Mugabe claims the outbreak is over. Can you really trust a man who’s hacked off peoples’ hands for voting against him?
This is the first time I can remember seeing the word quintillion used. Not even the U.S. bailout package uses numbers that big. My friend Pugeni once told me that when you go to the grocery store to pick up a jug of milk, the price has inflated before you can make it to the till.
Last night, I was watching the video clip (linked above) where Mugabe is talking and Maddie wanted to know who he was. She could hear the sadness in my voice when I started talking about the country he leads and the horrible things he’s done to people. When I told her that he’s the leader of the country where our friend Pugeni lives, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s okay,” I said, “I’m pretty sure Pugeni is alright. So far.” I can’t promise her the moon, after all.
From across the room, Nikki shouted, “Why doesn’t somebody just shoot him?” And I said, “well, my dear, I’m surprised nobody has yet. But it wouldn’t be the solution we’d want to see. Because we believe in peace.”
We believe in peace. I have to repeat that like a mantra when my anger rails at a situation so beyond my control but so close to my heart because I grew so fond of our special friend in the short time he was here.
by Heather Plett | Dec 9, 2008 | Uncategorized
Just when the U.S. seems to be getting their act together, our government is falling apart at the seams. It seems to me we expect better behaviour from our kindergarten kids than we do from our government representatives. And with that thought, for the benefit of those of you from other countries who are even more confused than we are, I give you the kindergarten version of what’s happening in the leadership of our fine country…
There’s a guy named Stevie who’s been trying to take control of the sandbox for a few years now, but every time there’s a vote, the kindergarten kids only give him less than half of the sand (called a minority) and tell him “you can run the sandbox, but you have to play nice with the other leaders so that you’ll get enough support for the things you want to change.” Well, Stevie doesn’t like this very much, because he really wanted the WHOLE sandbox, so he starts playing the bully by taking the sandtoys away from the other boys and telling them they have to listen to HIS rules because he controls the most sand. Needless to say, the other boys in the other, smaller parts of the sandbox, Stephie (not to be confused with Stevie), Jack, and Gilly aren’t too fond of the way that Stevie is pushing them around. Even though they’re usually too busy fighting with each other to notice, this time they all stop what they’re doing, get together for a little chat with some of the older boys from Grade 5 who used to play in the sandbox, and they decide “hey – if we put our sandbox pieces together, it adds up to a bigger piece than Stevie’s got and then WE could take control.”
Meanwhile, back in Stevie’s corner, he’s getting pretty ticked off at the other boys for not playing the way he wants them to play. First he says “okay then – I’ll give you a FEW toys back if you’ll still let me lead.” Well, that’s not enough to keep them happy – they want ALL of their toys back. And they want him to come up with a plan for getting more sand in the sandbox and not letting any of it leak out around the edges. Stevie gets even more mad, so he tells everybody that the Stephie and Jack are stupid because they’ve made friends with Gilly who’s really just disguising himself as their friend when what he REALLY wants is to take his portion of the sand and build a whole new sandbox somewhere else. But nobody listens to Stevie’s whining, because a few years ago, Stevie did the very same thing – made friends with Gilly to try to take control.
Stevie starts getting really nervous that he’ll lose control of the sandbox, so he runs to the Kindergarten teacher, Ms. J., and says “the other boys – they’re not playing fair! I’M the one who’s supposed to be running this sandbox and they’re trying to take over!” And then, because he knows that Ms. J. will be impressed with big words, he asks her to “prorogue” the sandbox – which in kindergarten-speak just means shut it down for a few weeks until he can figure out how to take charge again.
Ms. J. doesn’t feel like she has much choice (she hasn’t been given a lot of power in the playground), so she agrees and Stevie gets his way. The sandbox is closed and all the boys have to find something else to do for six weeks. Stevie thinks this will be just enough time for the other three boys to remember that they really don’t like each other and don’t want to work together to overthrow him.
The problem is, though, that over in the other side of the sandbox they’re not sure who should take leadership of their new partnership (otherwise known as a coalition), because Stephie owns the bigger piece, but none of the people he shares it with think he’s doing a good enough job of leading it. So Mikey and Bobby start fighting with Stephie because they think they should have dibs on that corner of the sandbox and they start working out a plan to push Stephie out so that eventually they can push Stevie out. It looks like Mikey’s winning, but Bobby gets mad and says “but Mikey didn’t let everybody else vote!”
And meanwhile, all of the other kids in the playground are saying “Hey – what about all of our sand that nobody’s looking after while you guys are fighting? It’s leaking out that big hole in the side of the sandbox (called a “recession”) and nobody seems to be paying attention!”
Stay tuned for the next edition of Kindergarten Wars, Parliament Style.
by Heather Plett | Dec 4, 2008 | Uncategorized
Here’s the scenario: you’re having lunch with 5 people. Two of them are members of the board of directors for the organization you work for. One of them is your boss. The other two are consultants that you have hired who’ve come to the board meeting to make a presentation on your behalf. You are the only woman at the table. One of the board members makes two statements: one of them essentially dismisses all of the work that you (and your team) do as inconsequential, and the other one dismisses all women (and especially younger women, and even more specifically younger women with degrees in literature – which you happen to have) as inconsequential. All of the other men at the table chuckle uncomfortably and most of them cast sideways glances at you.
What do you do?
a.) Sit demurely and let him heap on the insults?
b.) Blast him with both barrels and call him out for being an ignorant, narrow-minded, sexist old fart?
c.) Wait for one of the other less-bigoted men at the table to come to your rescue?
d.) Calmly and respectfully put him in his place and point out the error in his statements?
e.) Take the passive-aggressive approach and find underhanded insults to throw at him?
I’ll come back later to tell you what I did.
by Heather Plett | Nov 28, 2008 | Uncategorized
Three years ago, her report card said “Nicole is reluctant to speak up in class”. She was tentative, never raising her hand, never sure enough that she knew the answer.
Today, at parent teacher conference, we heard words like “confident, leader, self-assured, contributes willingly to class discussion, mature beyond her years, raises her hand for almost every question, and consistently does exceptional work.” The word “reluctant” never came up.
And I got a little choked up.
by Heather Plett | Nov 27, 2008 | Uncategorized
We are settled into our new offices, and it’s lovely, but I’m having to get used to the noise of the mall on the other side of my wall of windows. It’s hard to resist the urge to people-watch when I should be working (or even blogging about people-watching when I should be working :-). Right now there’s a crowd of school kids leaving the theatre that’s just across the atrium from my office. They just passed the makeout bench (a place that’s normally fairly secluded when there’s nothing going on at the theatre so people seem to think it’s an ideal place for making out – not realizing the people in the offices can watch them).
Christmas is in full swing in the mall, and so it’s a little noisy. To help me shut it out, I’m listening to Ani DiFranco. These words just caused me pause. I suspect some of those people wandering beneath me in the mall could relate to these lyrics.
what kind of paradise am i looking for?
i’ve got everything i want and still i want more
maybe some tiny shiny key
will wash up on the shore
