Pongal, another chance for renewal

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, January 15, 2009

This New Year is already beginning to feel a little old, as the days go by very quickly. Our family was lucky to have another opportunity for renewal yesterday, another chance to start afresh, as we celebrated the festival of Pongal, or Makara Sankranthi, which falls every year on January 14th.

This day marks the Sun’s transition from one sign in the zodiac (Sagittarius) to another (Capricorn), and is celebrated widely, all over India. It is also referred to as Uttarayana, or the northern movement of the Sun, and is a joyous occasion, reflecting the gradual movement in the northern hemisphere towards longer days, and eventually summer.

Houses are cleaned, the old is discarded, and schools are closed in preparation for and celebration of the festival. The central role of the sun in all our lives is celebrated, as also the role of animals and birds, and nature. And people consider this a good day to start new ventures in their personal and professional lives.
All of these celebrations are of course accompanied by a whole lot of delicious and special food.

At our home in State College, we celebrated Pongal without the holiday that accompanies the festival in India, and tried to pull it off on a weekday, as best as we could. My husband and I shared stories of our childhood experiences with our daughter, managing to transfer a little bit of family traditions, some history, some memories, and some experiences to look forward to again next year, in the context of our life here.

After all, isn’t that what life is all about? The creation of some special memories, which we hope to recreate year after year – of using the day to get in touch with family, to make a special meal, to offer prayers, to capture the sense of continuity and renewal, all in one single day.

Now, if we could only manage to keep all the wonderful energy of today intact, and find the sense of renewal and continuity, day after day.

Listening - the StoryCorps Gift Idea

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog,
Centre Daily Times, November 18, 2008

I was intrigued when I heard the concept of the National Day of Listening, on NPR.

Thanks to Google, I soon found out about StoryCorps, a nonprofit organization, that has declared November 28, 2008 the first annual National Day of Listening.

StoryCorps was founded to help Americans record their stories, thereby preserving Ourstories - not just the histories of our leaders, but the history of common people. StoryCorps booths have been set up in different geographical locations.

They are also being used to capture the specific history of groups dispersed across the country – some examples of these are of people affected by 9/11, African Americans and even those who are losing their memory to diseases like Alzheimer’s.

As I read about StoryCorps, I thought of their slogan of “Listening is the greatest gift.” Of course, each of us has a story. And that story can be discovered only when someone else takes the time to both ask questions and to listen.

To the grandparent that lived through a recession, or a war, and the one that did not do either. To the parent that had a fairy tale childhood and the one that did not. To the aunt that broke barriers and the one that did not. To the uncle that was scarred by the death of a sibling, and the one that did not live up to his potential.

Each one of us has a story, a story of being defined by the details of the particular cards that are dealt to us. And our lives are but a collection of the memories that make up our story, as we respond to these specific cards.

Our memories can also create and affect the history of the others that wander into our lives, and into whose lives we wander. They can empower them or affect them negatively – but they certainly can teach them about the lessons of possibilities, about forks in the road, about choices made, and journeys undertaken.

More importantly, though, listening to each other’s stories creates bonds, and we are no longer strangers. Both participants gain value to their lives by the act of speaking and listening with empathy. And bit by bit, like “The Little Prince,” we may begin to care, and may even understand - both the meaning of their lives and that of ours.

This National Day of Listening is a good thing. I do not plan to rent the StoryCorps kit, but I certainly like the idea of practicing more listening in my life. More active listening to my daughter and the rest of my family, my friends and my acquaintances – that would be the first step. We all seem to run around in our own little worlds, and I know that even if I have the inclination, making the time for it would be a very hard challenge.

But I plan to try, and once I do more of this, perhaps actively “listening” to strangers would also come more naturally to me – and the precarious world we live in today could certainly use more of the empathy that would come with such interactions.

Summer Connections

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, Sept 4, 2008

I have been away from State College for a little more than five weeks now.

My family and I travelled long distances physically and emotionally as we made our way to India, where we spent a few weeks. My husband and I met family, and also got some work done – our ten year old daughter however, was determined to exclusively make it a family oriented vacation.

She played with first and second cousins, and any other children she befriended in India. And I watched fascinated, as the kids made their connections with each other.

My daughter spoke Malayalam or English, and sometimes a little Tamil, with most of the children she met – they could be seen running around, reading, working on art projects, watching movies, playing computer games or engaged in pretend play.

And even when she met children with whom she did not share a common language, they resorted to universal games like catch or hide and seek, and had a delightful time.

Often, I heard them trading stories about their school experiences. They exchanged email addresses to keep in touch, and I am soon expecting emails to be flying across the oceans.

Then came our stay in the United Kingdom. At the international conference my husband was attending, attendees came from forty different countries, and my daughter met a few children of other attendees. Some spoke no English, or were shy to use it. And yet, during our days at the conference, the kids found ways to interact with each other.

My daughter made friends with a 12 year old from Korea, who initiated contact by asking for my daughter’s signature in an autograph book she was creating.

My daughter learnt how to ask her yes/no questions, and forged a working relationship with her. Then there was the 8 year old from Portugal, who used his camera to capture everything around him, and who promised to keep in touch by email.

And a ten year old from Japan who made origami creations for my daughter, who reciprocated by drawing pictures for her.

All these children were able to overcome linguistic and cultural barriers to find a way to connect. They used the common language of childhood, sometimes playing, building, and even simply smiling – managing to form bonds, in spite of being raised on different continents.

I wonder how their relationships will evolve, and whether they will manage to stay in touch.

All of us adults, who got to watch these children connect, shared a common language too - as we watched the children indulgently, and laughed at how easily they got along, and how similar they were in what they wanted to do with their time together. Children will be children, our laughter and smiles seemed to indicate… they are the same everywhere.

I wonder if the adults grasped how similar we were to each other, and how we too could easily find myriad ways to connect. As long as we are willing to acknowledge and understand the language of our common humanity.

A wonderful movie for all ages

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, July 7, 2008

I took my daughter and her friend to see the new movie, "Kit Kittredge: an American Girl," on opening day – which was Wednesday of last week.

As I was entering the theatre, two adults and a child exited from the previous show, and the woman took the time to whisper to me that it was a FABULOUS movie.

The three of us settled down in the theatre for the movie, the sole audience for that showing.

And loved every minute of it.

All of us were familiar with the “Kit books,” and the story of Kit Kittredge, a spunky girl who wants to be a reporter, and whose family’s life unravels during the hardships of the depression. The Kittredges find the inner strength to creatively meet their challenges through ingenuity, sacrifice, hard work and love.

Kit’s life changes, as her father moves in search of work, and as she is forced to devote most of her spare time to chores and helping out her family to survive from day to day. The movie also explores class bias – the negative attitudes against hobos and against kids at school, who are going through hard times are particularly revealing.

This well made movie (Rated G) by Canadian director Patricia Rozema is a gentle sensory experience of what was, several years ago.

And a reminder of the timeless values of honor, hard work, compassion, familial and community love. It showcases the dignity of living within one’s means, and of fulfilling our responsibilities, and of not giving up on our dreams.

As I left the theatre, my only wish was for more people - boys, girls and adults - to see this movie, which is so relevant in today’s world - as we read about and experience rising prices, an uncertain economic future, foreclosures and layoffs.

So if you are looking for a movie to watch, with or without your kids, in the next couple of weeks - Kit Kittredge, portrayed by the talented Abigail Breslin, may be a worthwhile choice – you may find it a couple of hours well spent.

Enjoying the Summer Break from School?

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, July 7, 2008

It has been more than two weeks since local schools were let off for summer vacations.

The joy evident on most faces, as the kids rushed out on their last day, at my daughter’s elementary school, had a primal quality to it. A joy of rushing into a world of imagined possibilities, a world without the predictable rhythm of school.

I did see a few tears, and also heard a fifth grader tell another that vacations were nothing to cheer about, because there were still seven more years of this thing to go through!

But mostly I saw a unifying atmosphere of happiness, of being let out into something more wonderful than what they were going through.

Fast forward to more than two weeks later, and the pictures vary from family to family.

Some kids are in structured programs, others are not. Some are looking for things to do, while others occupy themselves in different ways. Some are out of town, and others have family and friends visiting.

Some are already bored with their summer break, and others want it to stretch forever…

At my home, the highlights of my ten year old daughter’s summer break so far have been a two day camp she went to, summer band and orchestra, and the house guests we have had – friends and family who have come to stay in the last several days.

She is also looking forward to some future trips, play dates, going to the pool and so on.

She is still cherishing every day of summer break, but I know that there will be the inevitable occasional letdowns of boredom, and the disappointments when real life does not match up with the expectations that summer vacations held when school let out.

Perhaps that is a hidden value of summer vacations – they teach and remind both kids and parents that even much anticipated change is not all good or bad. That everything, even something as “wonderful” as a break from school has its pluses and minuses. And that very often, the changes we seek could end up bringing us a mixed bag of results.

And it is possible that by September, we may get to hear a primal cheer, though perhaps slightly muted, for another new beginning – of all the imagined possibilities of a new school year.

A Perfect Mother's Day Gift?

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, May 9, 2008

President Woodrow Wilson officially designated the second Sunday in May as a national observance of Mother's Day, in 1914.

And since then, we have found myriad ways to commemorate it - with flowers, gifts, calls, visits, cards, and special gestures, including taking Mom out to dinner. The National Restaurant Association says that Mother’s Day is the second most popular day to dine out, with about 38% of adults heading to a restaurant (the most popular reason is for a birthday celebration)

My daughter looks forward to eating out when we travel, or when we are busy, or when we go out for some other reason. Unlike me, she would probably like to go out for dinner on Mother’s Day.

But I grew up in India, where my family typically did not eat out, unless they had to. And as an adult, I find that I enjoy eating out sometimes, but usually prefer home cooked meals.

For me, there is something special about food cooked by those who know you, made specifically with you in mind. As when made by people (parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, friends) who know your individual tastes and preferences. As a friend of mine said, “It is made with love for you, and that is hard to find elsewhere.”

Perhaps that is why, when I go back to India to visit my parents and other family, I find myself wanting to only eat at home. I enjoy our family time together, both while creating, and partaking of the food.

Taking my mother out to dinner for any celebration would not work, because she considers food prepared at home supreme to all others.

When I call her to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day, she thanks me graciously, but I know that she believes that a mother is to be valued every single day – that every day should be Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day and Grandparents’ Day and Children’s Day and so on).

And she does not care much for things, so gifts of things are ruled out.
What she does care for are relationships, embodied in connections and time spent together.

So a phone call would be a good gift. And perhaps there can be a gift in the content of the conversation.

Perhaps I could share with her that I do finally “get” some of what she said and did when I was growing up.

I can tell her that I am grateful for her persistence at the daily routines of mothering, for always showing up and being there for me.

That I now realize the extent of the hard work she put into sustaining the daily rhythms of our lives.

That I value the nuggets of wisdom she imparted daily, in the midst of ordinary routines, wisdom gleaned from scriptures, stories, common sense and her own experiences.

I can tell her that these nuggets are the founding steps of my evolving philosophy of life.

I can also tell her that she was right, when she told me that I would eventually understand her words and actions, when I have a child of my own. Because I have begun to understand.

As I think of the possible content of my phone call on Mother's Day, I remember the words of a friend’s adult daughter.

She shared with me that she truly valued her parents now. “But don’t tell them, yet,” she whispered with a mischievous smile.

I hope, though, that she has already told them, on some very special day, or better yet, on an ordinary one.

I know her parents would cherish this knowledge of their value to her.

The knowledge that the phase of “rolling her eyes” has changed into an appreciation of them, and of all the rhythms they created, day in and day out, as they wove the matrix of her life and her memories.

Now that I am a mother, I know that if this was the conversation at any mother’s day dinner, it would certainly constitute the perfect gift.

So, How's School Going?

Originally Posted in the Common Threads Blog,
Centre Daily Times, Sept 11, 2007

Another school year has begun –with new challenges and opportunities for a lot of learning, excitement and fun. At least that’s what I am hoping for.

Often, adults ask my daughter how her new school year is going, and I too ask this question of other kids.

And get a one word response.

“Good.”

How is your teacher?

“Fine.”

What did you do in school today?

“Nothing much.”

This uniform answer of “good school days, with fine teachers, and doing nothing much,” puzzles me.

But I have decided that we cannot blame kids for coming up with these standardized responses - when we parents do it so often ourselves.

A casual “So how’s the school year going?” to another adult almost always comes up with a response of “Good,” or “Fine.”

And most of us end the conversation there, not having the time or the interest for the details.

But continue the conversation, and we may find out that all is not “good.”

Someone dislikes a teacher, another has issues with the curriculum, a third with bullying….

And just one parent opening up, and straying beyond the cursory “good,” brings forth new stories from the others.

But sharing these experiences requires the investment of time.

I recall exchanging stories about school, as a child, with family and friends - comparing notes about teachers, and laughing till the tears ran down my cheeks, at a cousin’s or friend’s narration or enacting of a funny incident.

We were able to do this because we visited often with other kids and adults – listening over tea, or board games on a lazy afternoon.

And that kind of time, is in short supply today, as we run from one task or activity to another.

At our house, we try to catch up on each other’s day over dinner. As my husband and I share the highlights of our day, our daughter competes with us to tell us about the “good,” “the bad,” “the ugly,” “the terrible,” and everything in between, and a clearer picture of all our lives emerges.

And I am hopeful that other kids who I know, will describe their school day to me too, in more than one sentence, if I only stayed and listened.

As long as I am willing to spare all that extra time…