• The Gift of Randomness

    Monster Dolls
    Monster Dolls

    I used to tease Crystel that I was going to give her seven American Girl dolls to the nursing  home. But, it really wasn’t teasing. “Why do you need so many dolls?” I’d ask.

    One of my first jobs was as a nurse’s aide in a nursing home. I recall women lovingly stroking a doll’s hair, cradling the doll, and putting the doll to sleep. The doll was like her baby. I thought, what better home for these 18 inch life-sized dolls of Crystel’s?

    When the children were young, their giving amounted to them filling up a paper bag with toys to give away before they could get a new toy. “We have to make room,” I’d tell them. From there we moved on to going through their closets and dressers to give away clothes they had outgrown.

    Antonio and Crystel are 13 now.

    Recently, Crystel joined me at the police station. She was assisting me with maintenance on police cars. This amounts to going through a check sheet to make sure all the bells, whistles and lights work on the cars and that there is a teddy bear in the trunk. Teddy bears help police officers relate to youngsters after car accidents, domestic violence, and abuse. I had explained this to Crystel. She decided that she’d add one of her Monster Dolls to each teddy bear. It intrigued her that some random person would get her doll.

    F3646_styling_chair_1[1]A couple of weeks after that Crystel decided that we could give away a doll crib and American Girl doll hair salon chair. I walked the items over to our neighbor. She had a visitor. The visitor’s eyes lit up when she saw them. “I might have an American Girl doll to go with these,” I told her. “I’ll have to check with Crystel.”

    Crystel brought out Molly. She sat on the floor and carefully changed Molly’s clothes. She wanted her to be dressed in the same clothes that she had come to her in from the American Girl doll store. I couldn’t help but think how similar this looked to Jody and I bringing Crystel home from Guatemala. Crystel and I talked about that as she was straightening out the pleats of Molly’s dress and picking out an extra outfit for her.

    After brushing Molly’s bangs, she straightened out the red ribbons that held her braids tight.

    “Ready?” I asked.

    We walked across the street and knocked on the door.

    Molly
    Molly

    Crystel handed her doll to the lady that neither of us knew. The woman wiped away tears. She said that she hadn’t worked for a few months because she had been caring for her sick mother. In doing so, she didn’t get paid and was worried about what she was going to give her granddaughter for her 5th birthday and for Christmas. That was until Crystel gifted her.

    The following week Crystel went to the Mall Of America with Jody. I was shocked when she came home with new outfits from the American Girl doll store bought with her own money. I thought we were giving away American Girl dolls and their clothes, not buying more. Then Crystel explained, “I’m going to take a doll to Guatemala on our next trip to give to some random person,” she said. “I want the doll to look nice.”

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    One response to “The Gift of Randomness”

    1. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Impressive kid you’re raising there. Kudos! 🙂

  • Happy Thanksgiving from the WordSisters

    IMG_1733We hope on Thanksgiving Day, you will be sharing good food with people you love. We are grateful for you, our readers. You inspire us. Thank you for reading!

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    One response to “Happy Thanksgiving from the WordSisters”

    1. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Hope your holiday is a special one filled with many blessings!

  • Thanksgiving Almost Gets Lost in Translation

    Tutoring adult immigrants in English invariably leads to explaining American culture. Since it’s November, we have been discussing Thanksgiving. We talk about the pilgrims being hungry because there was a bad harvest. Our textbook includes illustrations of Native Americans introducing the pilgrims to local foods. I describe a traditional Thanksgiving meal. When I ask if they and their families will celebrate Thanksgiving, most of them shrug. They find it hard to relate to pilgrims or our Thanksgiving rituals.

    It isn’t because the immigrants aren’t grateful. They are. Grateful to be in the U.S. Grateful for opportunities and the ability to live in relative peace.

    Traditional Thanksgiving foods don’t make sense to my students.

    It’s hard for my students to understand why roast turkey is the centerpiece of a celebratory meal. They are familiar with chicken seasoned with cinnamon, coriander, and tumeric in a tagine. Or chicken and vegetables made with garam masala. Chicken spiced with hot chilies and added to posole soup. Chicken stir-fried with ginger, pea pods, and bok choi. But slabs of dry, tasteless turkey?

    Many native-born Americans aren’t excited about turkey either, as evidenced by endless recipes centered on making it palatable. A whole industry (how-to articles, turkey hotlines, menu planning and recipe articles) has sprung up to help cooks successfully prepare this old-fashioned meal.

    It’s hard to connect with a tradition that began almost 400 years ago.

    Our lives are very different from those of the pilgrims. For native-born Americans and immigrants alike, the first Thanksgiving in 1621 is just a picture in a book. The pilgrims’ reality that a poor harvest could lead to starvation is only theoretical to most Americans. We associate hunger with running out of money before month-end.

    Except for farmers and ranchers, most of us don’t harvest anything. We don’t kill the animals or fish we eat unless we’ve chosen to hunt and fish for sport. Those of us who grow vegetables do so because we enjoy the work. When we do raise the food we eat, it’s a choice, not a necessity.

    Going into a bog to gather sour red berries for a side dish is also hard to imagine. The pilgrims must have been pretty hungry to go to the trouble, especially since cranberries require a lot of sugar to be edible, and oranges weren’t readily available.

    Squash may be the only part of the meal that my students can relate to. Africans, Indians, Pakistanis and some Central Americans eat squash. They don’t usually cook it until it’s mushy, flavor it with sugar, nutmeg, and cloves and bake it into a pie, though. Aside from foodies, most native-born Americans wouldn’t bother harvesting and processing pumpkin for pie either. Pumpkin is something that comes in a can and costs less than $2.00. Why work that hard?

    Although the connection to pilgrims and the foods they ate is tenuous, native-born Americans are willing to eat roast turkey, cranberries and pumpkin pie, because we grew up with them and they’re traditional. However, that menu is unfamiliar and unappealing to my students.

    I reduce Thanksgiving to the basics to help my students identify with it.

    I tell them that the pilgrims were immigrants, too. Life in America was harder than they expected. They were hungry. The people who lived here—Native Americans—helped the pilgrims. The pilgrims learned to eat odd foods so they wouldn’t starve. It’s good to gather with family and friends, eat good food (whatever that may be), and give thanks for what you have.

    We all agree that we have many things in our lives to be grateful for.

    The WordSisters are grateful for you.

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    3 responses to “Thanksgiving Almost Gets Lost in Translation”

    1. Bev Bachel Avatar

      And I am grateful for you and all the ways you Word Sisters give me reason to pause and ponder, and more importantly, appreciate my life.

    2. Johanna Avatar
      Johanna

      I have always found it fascinating that one day a year all Americans (or most Americans) eat the same ceremonial meal, even if individual families put their own spin on it. We need traditions like this to bind us together as a culture. Have a happy Thanksgiving and enjoy that slab of turkey (which tastes better with homemade grave) and pumpkin pie. And of course, a football game should be playing somewhere in the house!

    3. Eliza Waters Avatar

      It would be hard to imagine bucking tradition and serving roast lamb or beef or some vegetarian entree. I suppose the same strangeness applies to new immigrants. Like many holidays, we put our own spin on it, but most are anchored in tradition. I tried to instill the ‘gratitude’ aspect in my kids when they were growing up, but perhaps because they are young men, they seem indifferent to the holiday. Still, they seemed to have picked up the daily gratitude habit, which I think is more important! Have a great holiday, Ellen!


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