” Paranoia strikes deep Into your life it will creep It starts when you’re always afraid”
Song by Stephen Stills
Single released by Buffalo Springfield in 1966
This is the song on The Forrest Gump soundtrack that made me tear up.
“There’s battle lines being drawn Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong”
53 years later and turmoil continues. I’m more afraid because I have grandchild now. We still have divisions but they seem to becoming worse as time goes on. We have angry conflicts within groups and with other nations and increasing incidents of extreme weather events. Income inequality is growing and so is nastiness and name calling. Drug and alcohol use is skyrocketing and there is an uptick in suicides. Mass shootings in schools, places of worship, and in the workplace are are becoming more and more common.
“There’s something happening here What it is ain’t exactly clear”
We are evolving as a species in the realms of technology and innovation but there are deeply embedded quirks in our nature that haven’t advanced since our cave days. Does the “fight and flight” trigger continue to make us wary of those around us, especially those who are different? Is self preservation and self interest overriding empathy? Do we accumulate money not only to enjoy material things but to have power, dominance, and superiority over others?
I’m not absolved from this. I have done my share of bad things as a human being. But in this last chapter of my life, I’m searching to find the best in myself and in our species. I’m encouraged by those through history who believed “that injustice to one is injustice to all.” I pray that we can work together to guarantee that our common destiny is one filled with positive energy and purpose. This is my hope, especially for my grandkids.
“Stop, children, what’s that sound Everybody look what’s going down”
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Education is of very great importance to me, followed by the quality of stubbornness. Like many families, my relatives don’t like to talk much about feelings. Dark secrets are buried and many tales are hidden away. As Yuval Noah Harari, writes in his book, Sapien, all cultures are based on stories and those in power decide which stories will dominate. But I have another viewpoint, that eventually the truth comes out. It leaks through holes of forgotten revelations and suddenly remembered events. These conjure up “ah-ha” moments, bursts of clarity when the mind declares “so that’s why things are the way they are”. One brain scientist stated the mind “remembers patterns not rules”. Thank goodness or we would all be living in a state of bewilderment. If we really listen and observe , we can finally see the inconsistencies in fantasies accepted as true. And if we look deeper yet, we can see the lasting influence that our past and heritage have on our lives.
I remember my grandfather, sitting in the kitchen of his house on Welch Avenue in Niagara Falls, NY. I was about four but I can still see the brown radio on a little wooden shelf way above his head and mine. It was always on when he was present, squawking Polish, his native lauguage, or playing happy Polkas He was always reading a newspaper, coming from who know where, written in the language of the “old country”.
It was years later that my cousin told me the legend of my grandfather and my grandmother. A story that has impacted me and will influence future generations in my family forever.
Before coming to this country before World War I, my grandfather was part of a prosperous family of doctors who expected him to pursue a career in medicine. My grandfather had other ideas, he wanted to marry my grandmother and be a duck farmer. His family was livid and ridiculed his decision by making fun of my grandmother who was illiterate. But she was extremely stubborn and would not allow herself to be shamed. She secretly slipped two duck eggs into her apron, sold them at the market in town, bought chalk and a small slate, and taught herself to read and write.
This spirit of perseverance and the belief that education was the key to a better life and a sense of pride was passed down to my mother who was unfortunately a victim of history. She never went passed the eighth grade because she worked during The Great Depression cleaning houses for a dollar a day. She later worked as a cafeteria lady and a cook but she had learned how important education was. By working hard and saving , my mom put aside enough money so my two sisters and I were able to go to college. She stubbornly rejected the advise of some family members who said education wasn’t important for girls. I owe so much to the strength and persistence of my grandmother and mother. Education was my golden ticket to a professional career as a teacher and now has provided me with the resources to travel. My education has also made me a curious lifelong learner, something I enjoy everyday
Of course, when I visited India I was interested in their education system. School attendance is compulsory for children ages six to fourteen. But I learned there are glaring discrepancies. Private school have more resources.
What is even more disturbing is the fact that about 60% of the Indian population lives in rural areas and according to a study in 2008, the absentee rate for teachers in rural schools was on average 48% each day.
And to make matters worse, as of 2018, 28% of schools (19% public schools) have internet, 9% have computers (4 % for public schools) and only 68% of all school have usable toilets.
Those who have enough money for a good education, mainly those who go to private schools and /or have additional funds for the services of tutors are more likely to get into one of India’s 900 universities or 40,000 colleges. This privileged group does very well as professionals in the fields of technology, information, medicine, engineering, management, and economics. They have great social mobility and are sought by corporations and businesses in the US.
There is hope. Progressive companies in India like Tata Consulting Services (TCS) runs the largest private digital education school for potential employees. 400,000 employable students are coached in data analytics, cloud computing, and the “internet of things.” The company also rotates 200,000 employees at a time in a program to continuously update their techs in 600,000 competencies. “Based on market demand or project specifics, education for workers is always immediately relevant”.
Aravind Eye Care System also trains its workers and is able to provide eye care for poor Indian citizens. They have gone a step further and opened a plant that manufactures intraocular lenses that cost one fourth of those imported from the US.
It’s heartbreaking to see the woundedness of India. The country needs a better education system but also upgrades in security, protection of property rights, health services, and infrastructure. Change is slow because of governmental corruption. Bribery and patronage are very common and widespread.
India needs a strong dose of stubbornness. The people have power in their numbers. Those who are poor and rural must rise from the shame of their situation. The light of justice must be focused on corruption so the government is more effect in serving all Indians. Also, the leaders in employee training need to be encouraged and recognized so their reforms can spread across all of India.
I owe so much to my grandmother who would not allow herself to be shamed. She had the strenghth and ingenuity to do something to better herself and I’m very proud of her stubborn determination. As she lived her story, she planted the seeds of power into the heart of her daughter, my mother. Because of my mom, my sisters and I were able to go to college. Now the grandchildren, and great grandchildren in my family believe in the importance of education also and this light will go on and on. We will all be stubborn and resilient in our resolve. Thank you so much, Mom. Thank you so much, Babci (the Polish word for grandmother)!
I’m a stubborn optimist. But maybe I carry it too far. I wanted so badly to bring back home a lovely picture of India and dispel the dirty, dark shadows that label this country.
Three months later, a orange piece of twine remains on my wrist, tied there by a Hindu holy man as a reminder of his blessing. This simple gesture has allowed me to stay close to India. This winter on the other side of the earth, I am taking yoga, a mindfulness class, and breath and meditation classes in an effort to keep memories and feelings alive. India is here with me as I look through my pictures, write, and do research to understand more.
I have learned that behind the smiles I encountered on almost every feminine face I saw, there is a lot of pain. I have taken the time to read about the cultural injustice towards women in India and here, back at home, have found its extreme contrast with my life very disturbing.
India has gone from the fourth most dangerous country for women to number one with its high level of gender based violence and discrimination. Women fear gang rapes, sex trafficking, and forced servitude. They have been victims of acid attacks, female genital mutilation and stoning. Their devaluation has lead to the killing of girl babies, and feticide (the destruction of the female fetus in the womb), and grown women being murdured in a practice called “bride killing” in which victims are “accidently” burned to death.
Even a basic right is denied to females. One out of every three households have toilet facilities. It is the custom of men to relieve themselves on walls anywhere in cities and villages. I witnessed this many times during my tour. Women must sometimes walk long distances to find a secluded spot to maintain modesty while engaging in the simplest bodily functions. The Indian government is attempting to solve the problem by building more public bathrooms but progress is slow.
Women are over half the population but we still fall short in attaining equal rights and power in the world. The degree of injustice has a varied spectrum. Of course, some women, like those in India, are at the extreme end of discrimination. But the cultural story remains the same all over the world, that woman are just not quite on the level of men. I have experienced the subtle nuances; of not being listened to, being written off and not taken seriously. I have felt the pain of believing I was not good enough because of a perceived lack of intellect or because I have not been the perfect ideal of feminine physical beauty. And I have also experienced abuse.
But there is hope, women’s voices are being raised in India. We visited a family who had adopted four girls who had been abandoned by their families And I have since read about a protest on January 1st of 2019 in which thousands and thousands of India’s women stood shoulder to shoulder to form a human line 385 miles long. The government had lifted the ban that stated that women of menstruating age , 10 to 50, were not allowed in the Hindu Sabarimala Temple. Even though the law was passed in September 2018 it was not honored. This wonderful show of solitary named “The Women’s Wall” not only brought attention to this issue but also was a call for all women in the country to speak out about gender equality and social reform.
I believe in the power of positive acts, no matter how small. Each pinpoint of light dispels the darkness. I’m so thankful to the many, many women all through history all over the world who have, bit by bit, worked to raise the dignity of women. As they lifted their voices, they many times faced great danger and humiliation. But their examples as role models have strengthened all of us and we are graced today and will continue to be graced with their dedication. Our vast numbers, all of us, are a positive power in the world and we must continue to work to make sure all women and girls live lives that are never diminished.