School Days, Status Report

Just finished my eighth seminary class - out of 20 - for an M.A. in Intercultural Studies. Looks like I still have that 4.0, too. Putting in too much time on these classes? They have been rather easy, I admit. But it's still a time commitment. The school recommends planning to put in 10 hours a week per class, and that's about what it takes.

With two more classes this year, I'm on track to reach the half-way point in December. After working on it for three years. At this rate, the degree will take a total of six years. The prospect of not finishing until December 2016 is a bit discouraging, I admit. I did my Bachelor's in four, didn't I? On the other hand, it's clear to me I'm getting more out of these classes than someone would if they stayed on campus and did the whole Master's in two years. It's also less strain on me, my family, and our bank accounts for me to do this program one class at a time. Of the four of us, I'm the one whose degree is the least "necessary." Each term I scrutinize the situation to see if it seems wise to continue, and am grateful that so far the answer is yes.

If all four of us graduate in a few years, there's going to be a lot to celebrate!

Hubs: M.Div (chaplaincy)
Expected graduation date: May 2015

#1 Son: High school diploma
Expected graduation date: June 2015

#1 Daughter: Bachelor's degree (psychology?)
Expected graduation date: May 2016

Marti: M.A. (intercultural studies)
Expected graduation date: December 2016

What shocks us in culture shock? The situations we encounter, or our own reactions to them?

"Westerners in developing countries learn many things about themselves they might never have discovered had they remained at home. The smoothly functioning wheels of Western civilization protect us from many of the grating encounters that are so common abroad and that so acutely test our character and spiritual resources.

"…So much has been written about “culture shock” and the need to adapt to foreign customs, food, concepts of hygiene, and viewpoints generally that few missionaries get to the field without a thorough indoctrination to the culture of the country to which they are going.

"They have learned, in theory at least, that the key to a successful ministry will lie in their ability to assimilate that culture and to free themselves from the attitudes and prejudices of their own. They have been warned about the inevitable feelings of superiority, paternalism, disdain, impatience, and frustration that they are sure to experience and to which they may have previously considered themselves immune. Finally, they have been told that the course of their entire missionary career will ultimately depend on one thing: their day-by-day, step-by-step walk with God.

"Such preparation is necessary and helpful. In spite of it, I suspect that most missionaries during their first few years feel as we did – that they have really botched things up. Intensifying this feeling are friends back home who insist on setting them on a pedestal and making long excuses for their mistakes.

"…It’s not the situations we encounter in this place that are so unexpected, it’s our reaction to them."

Thomas Hale, in Don't Let The Goats Eat the Loquat Trees

See also a 2009 post: Culture Shock? We Don't Have It!
 

Adjusting to a New Normal - Family Life

Mother's Day approacheth. The first one I've encountered since taking on a maternal role, even a hyphenated one. As a new step-mother to teens, I'm a backup assistant parent at best. But I work at home and my husband has a busy and unpredictable schedule, one that seldom allows him to keep any consistent family commitments. So I'm also a default housewife. That's added plenty of chauffeuring and planning and shopping and cooking and cleaning to my life, especially during the weeks D. is with us. Yes, I know, I have it much easier than most "real" moms. And I'm still able to get my work done and keep up with my grad school classes.

This combination, though, leaves little or no margin for any interests of my own. I've virtually stopped reading and writing for pleasure (both lifelong habits), and I seem to have given up maintaining my friendships or developing new ones as well, a significant loss. My husband is just as surprised as I am to see those things go, and worried. He didn't want to see our marriage cost me like this, and he wonders how much my wounds are self-inflicted. I'm not sure, myself. It's good to stop and remember that even though the wife, stepmother, and housekeeper roles are the newest ones I've taken on, I made the decision myself not to quit my job or drop out of school (and not to sacrifice family life to make ongoing social or spiritual commitments at this time). If my plate is too full, I can take responsibility for that and not treat it as something that was done =to= me.

It's also been a relief just to let go of what expectations I can and accept the new normal. While it lasts. There will be another new normal after D. leaves for college, after C. finishes seminary, and we'll probably be moving away in a few years. While this is a challenging season, it's also a gift. We haven't lost any parents yet. We still have the kids around. In years to come that is going to change.

The depth of my cross-cultural know-how and experience has been very helpful. I know what it is to lay down my identity, to become, at best 75% of who I thought I was, and maybe much less to start with. But to discover, with surprise, ways to become a new person who may even fit into the new culture at nearly that 75% level - in time, a 150%, bi-cultural person. Joining a family seems much like moving to a new country.

There is something to be said for starting marriage before tackling parenting. I can see the wisdom in waiting a while. Yet marrying into motherhood, and with kids not yet full-grown, also has its benefits. For example it's much easier for me to enjoy and relate to D. as a real person than as an extension of myself, as so many parents do. Things are simpler, cleaner, than if he were my biological child. I can be a friend in a way that his parents cannot, not yet... though the complex, intimate connection he has with them is not something I can experience.

A sincere affection for D. has grown up within me. I desire to do anything I can for him, to enjoy and protect and provide for him, to cheer him on. I don't feel anxious or need to pressure him to turn into a certain kind of person. I want him to be who he is, to become who he needs to become. I actually find it easier to give him my loyalty and expect the best from him than I do with his father, my husband -- whom I can't seem to avoid treating as "an extension of myself," a man whose values, preferences, and choices feel like a threat when they clash with my own.

So how are we celebrating mother's day weekend? By sending D. back to his mom for the next couple weeks. It's appropriate that he be there for mother's day, and it will be nice to have a breather, after. This two-week period included the adjustment to D's recent decision to stop eating meat. It's been hard enough budgeting, shopping, and cooking for our conflicting needs and preferences without this additional restriction, and I did not take the change very well. I think I'm OK with it now. When D. returns, we'll have a few weeks of getting up at 5am to get him to water polo practice (after which, thankfully, he'll be on summer schedule, which runs a bit later. Practice will be on the other side of town then, but he plans to bike it when he can).

It's a relief to be traveling on my birthday (coming up on four years in a row). In the same way, it's a relief not to have the kids around on mother's day. Dispels ambiguity. I don't need to think about the day being about me in any way. I can look forward to a good chat with my mom, probably touch base with my stepmom as well - I have a new appreciation! - and enjoy a day with my mother-in-law.

Gender-neutral language

Maybe you heard about the legislation signed by the governor of Washington State requiring the revision of all existing laws to use gender-neutral language. Apparently the process has been going on for some time, and 3000 laws have been revised... going back to 1854. Florida and Minnesota have already completely revised their laws in this way. About half of all US states have made some move of this type.

Among the terms previously revised were fireman, policeman, clergyman, and ombudsman. The banned words catching the headlines now include fisherman, freshman, journeyman, signalman, and penmanship. A dispensation was granted for a few rank-and-role-related terms the military uses, and the term "manhole" is also permitted because no reasonable replacement could be found.

Some of the suggested terms are graceful, others, less so: fisherman becomes fisher, freshmen are first-year students (or first-year legislators?), journeymen are journey-level workers, signalmen are signal operators, and penmanship becomes handwriting (for those rare occasions one writes by hand, I guess). Just as chairmen are now chairs, ombudsman are now ombuds (moves that still sound odd to my ear).

I'm not opposed to language evolution, including an intentional move to use more inclusive terms. As a writer, editor, and student, I'm accustomed to looking for wording that is more accurate or respectful, even if it takes more space or takes some extra effort to avoid clunkiness. (It can be done!) I wonder what the price tag will be, though. Do we care enough about the benefits of these changes to make them, er, mandates? Today it's rewriting laws, reportedly a six-year task for Washington's 40-person code commission. Is that as far as it goes, or will we accept legislation that requires such changes be made across the board?  

Perhaps changes will be allowed to unfold more naturally and voluntarily (if indeed they do catch on) in other public contexts -- lest our public schools, say, divert too much scarce money and manpower (oops!) to retraining staff, rewriting software, and revising and reprinting any documents that refer to their high school or college freshmen. And what about the business sector? Will Fisherman's Friend and Fisherman's Wharf be working on name changes? Maybe they already are.

Recent news reports -- the conservative ones with some snarkiness -- note one industry that has recognized what some consider a potentially offensive term, and they areworking to replace it:

The residential real estate industry is even jumping on the PC bandwagon: the term “master bedroom” is being phased out, according to the Baltimore Business Journal. In its place, builders are beginning to use the term “owner’s suite” or “owner’s bedroom” to describe the largest bedroom in a home. A survey found that six out of 10 major Washington, D.C.-area home builders are making the change on their floor plans. The reason? “Master” is seen by some as offensive on two fronts: gender, where it apparently sounds masculine, and, race, where it supposedly conjures images of a slave-master. Not to be picky, but I’d think that those who find “master” to be racist would find “owner” offensive as well.

What do you think? How do you look at this issue, or this legislation?

Surrender in three simple steps

In Alcoholics Anonymous, they describe surrender in three steps, writes my friend Deb K. in her blogpost, Raise the White Flag!

1. I can't do it.
2. God can.
3. I will let Him.

"I've walked this road before with my husband, Randy, as he struggled to find freedom from his addiction to alcohol. And as I struggled to let go, to finally admit there wasn't anything I could do to fix or change him," she says. 

"It's funny how we think we have the power to help someone else choose life over an addiction or other destructive behaviors. Fear got in the way of my ability to surrender my husband. I believed I had the power to decide for him. I thought if I let go of Randy, he would die. That's a scary place to put ourselves in - and rather presumptuous. Do I really think I have that kind of power?"

Readers, have you ever come face to face with the power of surrender? Have you seen it set you free?

See also my posts on "The gospel of not good enough."

The prequel: Asking for Direction(s)
Part 1: Waving the White Flag of Surrender
Part 2: Best Week of Your Life
Part 3: Pretty, Popular, Good

Perspectives on my Perspectives semester

I started teaching Perspectives classes in the mid or late 1990s, and have been an instructor at 6-12 classes a year ever since. Once I got my groove on (teaching the history of Christian missions) I only had to make relatively minor adjustments from one class to another. Usually if I changed something up it was more because I was getting bored with the old stuff and discovered something new that I liked better, than that what I'd been teaching wasn't working.

Most years, teaching opportunities came in twos and threes. I'd teach in one church on a Sunday afternoon, another that Monday night, and maybe a third on Tuesday. With many classes within a couple hours' drive of my house, I could pull off all my responsibilities for a semester - preparation, travel, and teaching - with an investment of maybe 50-60 hours per six classes.

When I moved to Oregon, though, I told my previous contacts that I didn't want to teach outside the West. I hoped I'd still be invited to Colorado (and get a free trip to visit friends there out of it!) But they have an abundance of qualified teachers in that area, so nobody has contacted me about coming back. Opportunities in the Northwest have been fewer. I've been traveling long distances for each of the six classes. I've been invited to teach different topics each time, so I've had to prepare a new material. I put in 150-200 hours of my work time instead of 50. That's meant I've worked very long hours these last six weeks. I've had less time to put into other projects, including some I'm pretty sure would mean more to my supervisor.

A couple of people have asked me, lately, why did I make trying to get into these classes such a priority? What makes it worth it to me to do this kind of thing? I wasn't sure how to answer.

I have to acknowledge there's some performance motive. I've got a lot of stuff in my head I want to share with other people. It was great to be able to pass along some ideas and questions that have piqued my interest in the last year, and that helped me grow and refine my thinking. And now I have half a dozen interesting and effective lesson plans that are up-to-date and ready to use for the future. Normal life provides few opportunities to take on concrete challenges, perform in some way, and get meaningful constructive feedback. So maybe teaching classes is like my mom making something to show at the county fair, my sister entering an adjudicated art show, or my stepson signing up for an optional swim meet. I don't need the blue ribbon, but just being accepted and making a good show helps me improve my own "performance."

There are some other things I get out of this, for myself. I made about $1500 in honorarium payments and book sales. Not much if you're thinking of the hourly rate, but this goes toward my salary and helps bolster the ol' ministry account. I signed up a bunch of new people for our online magazine. The all-expenses paid trips to Alaska and Michigan were certainly a treat, and so was the opportunity to make some meaningful connections with mission leaders and other like-minded people across the state of Oregon. I certainly made some new friends for myself and possibly for Pioneers, an organization many of them had never heard about before.

Other motives are more external... I like to do my part in keeping the fine institution of Perspectives rolling along. I believe in what they're trying to do. The coordinators of the six classes were helped in accomplishing the goals of their programs, and they were glad to have my help. A number of the participants told me how much they felt encouraged or informed by something from my teaching or example. Somehow just having a woman show up and talk about missions makes a huge difference to people. Most of the instructors are still old white guys. Many of them do a fabulous job, but sometimes people need to see someone different in that position, someone who doesn't fit the profile, in order to say, hey, maybe what they are talking about is for me, too.

It's good to get enough feedback to know that my contribution is making a difference. But I have to resist any tendency to try to be a superstar in this rather small mission-speaker world. The temptation is there. When I asked questions about the speakers before me, I felt a stab of jealousy at hearing students and leaders praise the men who impressed them with a flashy performance. It's probably a good thing that I don't do this kind of thing full-time. By this time of year my job there is done. I organized and packed everything away and will likely not need it again until 2014.

It's better for my soul to put in more hours behind the scenes than on the stage. It's also more consistent with what I'm trying to teach and model - being a servant and willing to be forgotten, not an impressive hero about whom others say, "I could never do that."

The last class I taught was the one on incarnational ministry ("building bridges of love"). I tried to emphasize approaches that major on listening to learning from people in your host community and affirming and empowering them. I shared this story and asked them to wrestle with it. I closed with this quote and the story of this man.

I think it all worked pretty well this year. To God be the glory. Here's some of the student feedback.

"I really enjoyed your lecture. I thought your personal experience in the field was very on point for this lesson. I enjoyed the open discussion in class. I thought it was great that you allowed us to process through some of the material as a group." 

"I really appreciated the way Marti's presentation facilitated open conversation and dialogue among us students. This class was by far the most open and comfortable session we have had so far as a group, and it felt REALLY good. Thank you Marti for being so personable, approachable and letting the Spirit lead."

"She was one of the best teachers yet! She knew how to engage and make us think."

Feng Shui and Instructional Design

"The way the room is set up effects how people learn," says Beth Kanter, who makes much of her living doing training for nonprofits. "I strongly believe that a workshop, panel, master class, or even a keynote that is interactive is more engaging, people pay attention, they make connections to what they already know and are far more likely to apply it. Certain room set ups encourage interaction between the participants and the workshop leader, others do not."

When I teach, I usually don't have much say in how my room is set up, and sometimes don't know until I arrive. If it's a workshop conference, it's usually theater style or sometimes classroom. When it's a Perspectives class, they nearly always go with "banquet."

If asked what I prefer, my request usually depends on the size of the group. Theater-style doesn't lend itself to interaction, and I don't like banquet-style for a small group - it pushes people away from me and each other, and they end up by sitting in twos and threes at tables too large for them. When we fewer than 20 people I ask for something more like "boardroom" or "U-shape."

A bad experience in January reminded me how difficult it can be to provide anything like instruction when you're giving a presentation or teaching a workshop - one a bazillion - at a large conference. And part of that has to do with these issues of room setup and group size. What will the room be like? How many people will come, and who? You don't know until it's too late; you have to think on your feet and adjust.

Beth doesn't mention group size, just describes her ideal room set up for effective instruction as "round tables in a room with space to move around, projection, the ability to move the group outside for some of the sessions, and wall space to showcase the products of learning." And if she doesn't get it, she "hacks" the space to accomplish what she intends.

This year I made strides in moving away from the lecture format (often expected in environments where I teach) and toward greater participant engagement. I think I still have a way to go. I still do more of the talking than anyone else.

And the wall space requirement? Haven't even begun to go that direction. In reading Beth's post, I realized I'm still balking at including exercises that require learners to write things out in magic marker and put them up on the wall. It's partly due to fears of letting go of control and running out of time. But it's also because those giant sticky note pads that you can just tear off and stick on the wall seem too expensive, and I don't have a good way to carry them in my luggage.

Well, looks like Amazon will sell you a two-pack for US$40. That isn't so bad. Or how about this simple solution:

1. Ordinary butcher paper or easel pad paper (which I can just ask my hosts to provide, or pack in a cardboard tube), and
2. Masking tape. Or duct tape to be a little more playful.

Maybe next time!