There's No Fire Here

Religion is one of those hot button issues that can really get people worked up. Because of this, and because we are what I consider to be a non-religious household, I tend to avoid discussing religion with others. For the most part this approached has worked well for me since I simply don't bring the subject up. But as my Facebook pages attests to, my friends cover a broad spectrum of religious beliefs--from the non-believing to the evangelical preachers and everywhere in between. Many times I don't agree with what I see but I simply choose to ignore it since it is highly unlikely that anything I could say would persuade anyone to change their minds. And besides, who am I to try to change anyone's mind? Perhaps it is my generally lack of faith that allows me to take such a cavalier attitude towards religion. I won't proselytize to you about my beliefs and expect you extend the same courtesy to me. (Ironically I was a religion minor in college but I approached the subject as a purely academic exercise where I would question everything with a critical, uninvested interest). And even as a family, when we've had religious beliefs we don't agree with pushed into our faces---we once had American dinner guests who insisted we all join them in a prayer before we began eating--- it has been relatively easy to look the other way. Until now.

Last week Sidney informed me that if you prayed hard enough dead soldiers would no longer be dead. His comment caught me by surprise since we were in the car and I was more focused on the traffic than what he was saying. I asked him to repeat what he said then questioned where he had heard this. He informed me that a boy a camp had told him that this was true and he wanted to pray to bring all of the soldiers back from the dead. Then later in the week on the drive home he began whimpering and told me that he was afraid he was going to burn to death. When I asked him why he thought this, he said (another) child at the playground had told him that he would burn in hell because he didn't go to church. Like it or not, my approach to looking the other way when it comes to religion and religious education was now smacking me in the face.

But I really shouldn't be surprised by this turn of events. After all, the United States is a country that was founded on religious freedom. Or Christian freedom as one elected official recently said on national television. Although I beg to differ on the nuances of this take of the country's founding, it would be hard to argue that we aren't a country where religion is important to many people. Churches are the cornerstones of many communities and our country's youth regularly go abroad as missionaries hoping to spread the word of their faith to people around the globe. Religious organizations work both domestically and internationally to provide needed services and support to those who lack the basics that many of us take for granted. I've sat through community meetings and forums that have been started with Christian prayers and I've worked in government offices where bibles and crosses are accepted, if not encouraged, office decor. And we currently have over an egg carton full of presidential candidates who are trying to out Christian one another in their quest for the Oval Office. As a military family we often feel like the odd family out because we don't wear our (Christian) religious beliefs on our sleeves for the whole world to see. Most recently our base orientation program included information on the Christian religious offerings on base with nary a reference to anything else. All of this in the land that professes to a clear separation of church and state. But we are used to this and will quietly mull over what is said, and what isn't said, between ourselves and leave it at that.

So what did I say to, in my opinion, Sidney's misguided statements? I quickly assured him that that no amount of praying would ever bring any soldier back from the dead and that no, he was not going to burn in hell. Even though I was seething at the thought that someone told my son that he was going to burn to death, I reminded myself that this was another child who said these scathing words to him and it is likely that he was only repeating words that he himself had heard from an adult. I went on to tell him that different people believe different things so the only thing he had to worry about was what he believed and what we believed as a family. We would respect the opinions of other people and if he ever had any questions, he should let us know. Both times he nodded and let it go but I know I've only bought myself a brief reprieve. He will be back with more questions, both his own and those that have been raised by the comments of others and I need to be ready. I'm not sure what he will ask or how I will answer but all of this has me thinking about the different types of religious and moral education and how best to relay our beliefs to Sidney without scaring him or discounting what others believe. Because respecting others is one of our family's firmly held beliefs.

What will I say? I have no idea. But I do know there won't be any threats of flames and the rising of the dead in any of my explanations.

Dare To Dissent

All it takes is one person casting their vote in the opposite direction to upset the apple cart. That is what happens when someone dares to take a stand against the group think mentality that seems to encompass community after community. Is it culture that creates group think or is it simply what happens when large numbers of supposedly like minded people come together? But what happens when someone disagrees with everyone else? All too often it seems as though they become outcasts simply for daring to voice their opinion; the same option that others have done but with a different voice. And why is this so wrong?

Group think is a strange phenomenon but I've seen it happen again and again regardless of what community I find myself in. Whether it be an opinion on the local schools, hospitals or the best place to buy vegetables, if anyone dares to express an opinion that goes against the status quo a backlash ensues. This happens quite frequently on social media. First someone (innocently) poses a question. Responses are quick to flow in with one person after another singing the accolades or decrying the quality of the place or item in question. And interestingly enough the replies tend to follow a similar flow...until they don't. Someone expresses an opinion that is counter to those of everyone else. Perhaps they had a negative experience or simply didn't like something but why should their opinion be any less valued than everyone else's? It shouldn't be yet it seems to be. Conversation treads can suddenly take a turn away from the original question at hand and focus on the person who rocked the boat.

Sometimes I feel like I could be the person to rock that boat here. The doctor that everyone gushes about being the best and having a great bedside manner? Well, I was less than impressed. The same goes for the "helpful" customer service that people receive at the grocery store. While not bad per se, I think the people working there are simply doing their job rather than going above and beyond. The best communities and neighborhoods to live in? Well the one that everyone says is horrible and has the most crime is the one I live in and we both love it and feel completely safe. The right option when it comes to schools? Many would disagree, but I'm completely satisfied with the choice we made. After all, each and every one of these opinions are personal and should be respected. None are right and none are wrong; they simply are individual opinions which should remain just that. Yet group think always manages to creep into the mix. Why is that?

In Search Of Community

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. You think you know what you want or what to expect but rarely do things turn out the way you imagined that they would. Sometimes they are better, other times worse, but more often than not they just turn out to be different. Not good or bad, just different.   But for us, with each new twist and turn in the road of life comes deeper insight into what we really want in life. What we thought was an ideal turns out to be less so while what we thought we didn't want we really ended up enjoying. All of these experiences build upon one another and help shape our future. But just when we think the future should be getting clearer it actually becomes more fuzzy. For all of the reasons I listed above.

As of late Glenn and I have been talking a lot about our future. First we were talking about our summer travel plans and our intent to spend a few days back in our old stomping grounds of southern Virginia. This inevitably raised the question of whether or not we would drive by our old house and neighborhood and how we would feel about what we saw. This segued into our talking about what we really liked and now miss about the Norfolk neighborhood. But the root of the conversations largely stem from the elephant in the room of where do we go next--as in after Belgium. We left Norfolk and headed to Albania via a short stint in Washington D.C. thinking Glenn would most likely retire out of that position. Instead we found ourselves (in a very good way) in Belgium for the next three years. But after that? Is the world our oyster? And if it is, what do we want and where do we want to go?

Some details are pretty clear. Although w don't know where it will be physically located, we think we've mentally designed our dream house. Over the past few years we've lived in houses that have been good, bad, and somewhere in between. We've figured out what is important to us in terms of space and design and where we would be willing to compromise. Some features that we had thought were really important we have since learned are no longer on the top of our must have list. A large kitchen is nice but layout is much more important. Green space is a must but too much of it simply results in a lot of yard work and we aren't gardening people. But what is really important is location and a sense of community. Ironically we had that when we lived in Norfolk yet at the time I didn't realize quite how special it really was. Our neighborhood had a true sense of community that we have been longing for ever since we left to go out and experience the world. In our old neighborhood we were surrounded by friends and neighbors; it was a place where we supported each other during difficult times and celebrated during the happy days. I always knew that if we ever needed something, anything, our neighbors would be there to help us out in a heartbeat. It was truly a special place yet we left, hoping to see and experience the larger world. Since then we've experienced communities where we heard but never saw our neighbors, where kids played amongst the speeding cars in the street yet everyone else stayed behind their tall walls, and now a cute neighborhood where we neither see nor hear any of our neighbors. These are all communities yet for us they lack that sense of community we are missing and longing for. I'm feeling as though the question of urban, suburban or rural isn't what is most relevant. What is important is the physical sense of community of the neighborhood.

Then there is the physical location- as in state and or country- of where we will land next and perhaps even settle for good. We are all over the map on this one. Playing the choose your own adventure game we concoct every scenario imaginable. No place is really entirely off of the table although so places are more desirable than others. But what we really want is that sense of community. Without being immersed in it, how do you know if a real sense of community exists? You can change a house (we've done that), but if the ideal house isn't in a great community is the house really that great? I'd argue no. So what do we want? Ironically, so much of what we think we now want we actually had back in Norfolk. We don't necessarily want this southern city per se but rather we want what it represented. Was our Belvedere neighborhood where it was at? Can you go back? Does life come full circle? Only time will tell........

Putting The "T" Back In Team

Team:  A group of people who compete in a sport, game, etc. against another group; a group of people who work together.

 

Team work:  Work done by several associates with each doing a part but all subordinating personal prominence to the efficiency of the whole.

 

Whether it is in a professional or personal setting being and working as a part of a team makes everything function that much smoother.  But somehow, it often feels like everyone is on a different page, not coordinating their efforts and generally going it alone.  It doesn't matter whether you work for the most bureaucratic organization (say a government entity....) or the most free spirited not-for-profit, unless you are a one (wo)man operation, you are a part of a team.  Even then, no one is an island.  And as such, we should all be working towards a common goal and recognize a success as one belonging to the team and a failure as being the group's as well.  Hanging individuals out to dry or claiming ownership of a project that was really a collaborative effort is not what being a part of a team is all about.  Does a football player win a game all by himself or does he rely on the other ten players on the field with him to bring the team to victory?  All too often I hear people use I statements to describe their work.  Politicians are famous for this yet how many people stop to question how a senator or representative single handedly passed a law, wrote a budget, or generally made the world a better place.  Really people?  You did this all by yourself?  Maybe I am missing something but the last time I checked the House of Representatives was comprised of more than one person with a majority of votes being required to pass anything.  How about becoming a team player and using we statements instead?  Its called collaboration or playing nice in the sandbox, skills we were all supposed to learn back in elementary school.

And being a team player is important on the home front as well.  This is especially important when it comes to parenting.  From the earliest age children learn the divide and conquer method of trying to persuade their parents to allow them to do something they probably shouldn't.  Whether it be dessert without finishing dinner, staying up later than his appointed bedtime, or getting a privilege that is normally off limits, our son is a master of going back and forth between the two of us trying to get one of us to agree with him.  Through trial and error and a fair amount of tears we've learned that only through being a united team will we prevail.  

And it really isn't that hard. All it takes is a shared goal, a cohesive plan of action, and an understanding that we are all in it together (whatever that together may be) and we can all be a part of a winning team.  So let's hear it for team work. WE can do it!

 

It Takes A Village

It was an African proverb before Hillary Clinton popularized the phrase with her 1996 best seller of the same name.  The premise is simple; while parents play a vital role in raising their children, so does their entire community.  From siblings and grandparents to friends and neighbors everyone within a community must share in the responsibility of raising the next generation.  Take a historical look at cultures around the globe and you will see that this is true and has been for some time.  In earlier days clans and extended families stuck together if for no other reason that sheer survival in both the social and physical senses.  Sometimes this might mean multiple generations living in the same town, on the same street or in the same neighborhood, or even sharing a house.  Other times it may refer to an entire neighborhood looking out for one another, adults volunteering to coach sports teams and taking part in the car pool, or simply taking the lead in supervising kids playing in the neighborhood. Or more likely, it is a combination of all of these and much much more.  During long ship deployments fellow Navy families united to become one big family to offer support to one another during times of need.  While our blood families may not be close enough to provide assistance, a member of the Navy families was always steps away ready to jump in when called upon.  This is not just a relic of the past nor is it country specific; today I look around my own street here in Tirana and see multiple generations sharing houses and contributing to the raising of the next generation.  Regardless of whom the parent is, all of the adults on the street share in the responsibility of supervising and if need be, reprimanding the children.  Older children look out for the younger ones and younger ones in turn look out for the even smaller ones.  And this is not unique to our neighborhood.  Many of our Albanian friends and co-workers either live with their in-laws in the same house or at a minimum in the same apartment building.  Sure this arrangement provides for built in babysitting but it offers so much more.  From family history, cultural traditions, and the wisdom that only comes with age and experience, a village raising a child is more powerful and beneficial (and easier) that going it alone.

As nuclear families have become more geographically diverse, non-traditional "villages" have become even more important.  As Sidney gets older and we find ourselves living thousands of miles away from our own families and close friends, I am becoming increasingly aware of this.  Sure we can Skype on a regular basis with our families back in the United States and while that is an important part of the support system that is our village, we have had to forge an adopted one for ourselves here in Albania.  Just as we did in Washington D.C. and in Virginia before that, our neighbors and co-workers here have become our friends and these friends have become like family to us.  They are the ones we turn to when we need support and in turn we offer the same.  It is becoming increasingly apparent that in this day and age we just can't go it alone.  While Glenn and I play a key (and the lead) role in Sidney's development, it is our entire adopted village that is helping to raise and shape him into the boy he is.  From our dear nanny and her own grandchildren who play with Sidney to the neighborhood children who taught Sidney to play football (European style that is) and cheer him on as he learns to peddle his bicycle they are all a part of our adopted village.  Our co-workers who provide us with the day-to-day support we need and our friends who serve as our power of attorney should anything go wrong are all a part of our village.  More than ever it truly does take a village to raise a child and we are very grateful for the one we have here.

(Re)Defining Community

What is a community?  Is it defined by geography, demography, or socio-economics?  Does a community have defined boundaries or is it more organic?  Are there subsets of a community within a larger community?  Can an individual be a part of several communities simultaneously and can these boundaries merge?  Are communities just a figment of our imaginations that are cobbled together for the sake of convenience?

Professionally, and as of late personally, these are questions I ask myself.  My background is in urban planning, community development, and social work.  Through these experiences I've seen a lot.  I've spent close to twenty years working in what I think of as various geographically defined communities- poverty stricken inner city, even poorer rural, and middle class suburbs.  They have typically been defined by governmental entities- city, country, state, and  the U.S. Postal Service. Some of these places are designated "planned" communities while others have expanded or contracted more organically. Sometimes they were ethnically homogeneous and more often than not they been socio-economically they same.  For whatever reason, whether it be circumstance, choice, or a lack there of, these groups of people have come together to form a community.

In Tirana the U.S. Embassy is its own form of a community -- or as I like to say, we are a fishbowl inside of a fishbowl.  We are all here by chance, luck of the draw, or perhaps by choice.  We are temporary residents in a country that is foreign to us.  We are visitors but not permanent residents. Logic might dictate that because of this, we would naturally form our own cohesive community.  I'm not sure this is the case.  Socio-economically we are all essentially the same.  When we work at the Embassy we are all on Uncle Sam's payroll so none of us are going to become rich toiling away in the trenches of Albania.   

But this is where our similarities end. Age-wise we are a more diverse group; some of us may have entered the workforce while our coworkers were still in diapers.  There are Marines here who are young enough to be my children and recently there was another employee who could be my grandfather.  Only half of us are actual government employees, a handful of us are spouses who have managed to secure some form of employment inside the Embassy walls (I count myself as a part of this category), and the rest of us are along for the ride.  We are married, divorced, and single.  Our spouses may be American by birth or foreign born.  We may be childless by choice or not; we may have a single child or a houseful of children.  Our children may be two legged, four legged, or perhaps have no legs at all.  Our religious and political views are probably as varied as the states we call home.  We have varied interests, hobbies, and experiences.  When you look below the surface and beyond the diplomatic plates that grace our cars, we are truly a diverse group.

Because of this, I'm not sure that it makes sense, or is even possible, to assume that we will all merge into a single cohesive community.  Is this good or bad?  I don't know.  But then again, how do you define a community?