• A week when everyone looks like you

    La Semana 2010 Crystel 8 years old
    La Semana 2010 Crystel 8 years old

    I know even before I get to the high school for the fiesta that I am going to cry at some point during the evening. Antonio and Crystel have been attending La Semana Cultural Camp for a week every summer since they were in first grade. Now fifth graders, they are going to join 450 other children born in over 20 different countries and perform the Latin American dance that they had learned during the week. There would be 25 dances, put on by everyone from first graders to Ayudantes (adoptees who recently graduated high school).  Except when we travel in Guatemala, Latin American Cultural Camp is the only place that I could lose Antonio and Crystel in a crowd. . .  because here everyone looks like them.

    Antonio and amigo 2013
    Antonio and amigo 2013

    If this is my experience as an adult, imagine what it would be for a child to be surrounded by his or her own ethnic origin if only for one week a year. To top that off, all the children are adopted. For the first time, a child doesn’t have to explain him or herself to a new friend. There are no questions. Everyone is adopted.

    Families travel from 14 different states and Canada to attend La Semana. The adoptees learn Latin American crafts and dances, try Latin American foods, hear Latin American music, and are exposed to written and spoken Spanish. The children also take a class that focuses on age-appropriate topics related to adoption. Most importantly, they just get to be kids with other kids like them.

    Crystel and friends up to no good. 2013
    Crystel and friends up to no good. 2013

    Every year, La Semana, focuses on a country. This year it is Paraguay. Throughout the week, campers explore the culture of Paraguay. Through video and games they get an overview of Paraguay’s food, music, geography, sports teams and animals. At a Paraguayan market and fiesta, campers taste food and drink, create with beads and clay, and play traditional holiday games.

    Jody has been at La Semana all week volunteering her time in the craft department. La Semana is successful due to the volunteer efforts of the families of children attending camp. All camp programs are planned and executed by the families involved. There are fewer than seven paid teachers for more than 450 campers. To encourage participation, La Semana requires a parent of kindergarten through tenth grade campers to volunteer in some capacity.

    Chicas
    Chicas

    Jody is already inside Lakeville High School having saved our seat hours ago for the fiesta in the gymnasium. Tears start welling up in my eyes as I see parents streaming through the school entrance holding hands with their young children. The fiesta is a time for the campers to show off their ‘stuff.’ Inside the dressing room, they will be transformed as they put on traditional dress, and the girls adorn themselves with red lipstick, blue eye shadow, and blush.

    Crafts are the best!
    Crafts are the best!

    Jody texts to see if I want to sit and wait for the dances to start. But I don’t. I want to stay in the gathering area and watch everybody. This unnerves Antonio and Crystel to no end because I often do this no matter where we are. “Mom, quit staring,” they will say. Unfortunately, it will be their cross to bear.

    This afternoon, I have an opportunity to observe over a hundred Latin American teens and young adults. I witness what Antonio and Crystel will look like in a few years and start to cry. They’re beautiful.

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    One response to “A week when everyone looks like you”

    1. Rosemary Davis Avatar
      Rosemary Davis

      Love this!!!!! Where is the camp held?

  • Mammo Whammy

    I hate going to the Breast Center. I steel myself and try to be as matter-of-fact as if I’m getting my teeth cleaned or doing some other unpleasant medical chore.

    Everyone there is nice. The décor features soft colors and flowery prints hang on the wall. I’m shown to a dressing room and instructed to put on a gown with the opening in the front.

    But the presence of too many women, who are scared out of their wits, wondering what will become of themselves and their families, weighs on me.

    I change into the raspberry gown and stash my clothes in the locker.

    As I wait to be called, I wonder about the other women. Who will be lucky today? Who is waiting for a second mammogram because the radiologist found something suspicious? I avoid looking my companions in the eye. I have no wisdom and very little comfort to offer.

    Inside the mammo room, the technician is pleasant and professional. But the whole process—baring myself, pushing my breast on the metal and plastic plate, allowing her to pull and stretch it into place as if it isn’t one of the most intimate parts of me—is dehumanizing.

    I hold my breath, wait for the eye-watering mechanical squeeze. Then we repeat the process and I’m done. She says they’ll call if there’s a problem.

    I nod and smile and pretend that I’m OK. I try not to let my mind form the sentence, “What if my luck has run out? What if this time is IT?”

    The spirits of the women I’ve known with breast cancer travel with me as I get dressed, walk to the parking ramp and try hard not to think about the three biopsies I’ve already had.

    I teeter on the brink of fear, but push that feeling as far back in my mind as possible. I know from experience that worrying won’t help.

    I hate going to the Breast Center. But I think of Kim, Jane, Lisa and especially Kathy, and so I go. I’ve got a life to live and people to love. I can’t afford not to.

    7 responses to “Mammo Whammy”

    1. Theresa Eisele Avatar
      Theresa Eisele

      Ellen, your memory-invoking piece encompasses all the views and feelings I’ve experienced at the Breast Center in St. Paul. Interesting that a commenter mentioned her similar experience in Scottsdale. Do these places hire cookie-cutter workers and decorators? 🙂 My guess is that part of the uncomfortableness arises from waiting with strangers in the same predicament – dressed in a gown sans bra. For me, after a biopsy, days and nights increase in length waiting for a diagnosis. Some of us have been fortunate with the results; others have not.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thanks for commenting. I know it’s important to get a mammo–and I’m committed to doing it–but I wish health care providers knew what a rollercoaster it can be!

    2. Johanna Avatar
      Johanna

      Àn important reminder about a scary subject. Thank you for describing your experience so vividly.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thanks for reading and commenting!

    3. Cindy Maxa Avatar
      Cindy Maxa

      Wow, Ellen. First of all, great title. As I read your piece I was transported body, mind and spirit to the breast center in Scottsdale, seeing the faces of the other women from two months ago, feeling the cold of the machine, the squish, the accompanying pain and then the worry. Even though the women at the center are kind and helpful, I always feel an odd loneliness creep over me until I leave the building. And yes, there is a residue of that loneliness until the result arrives. Thank you Ellen.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thanks! I think you’re right about that “odd loneliness.”

    4. Luanne Avatar
      Luanne

      I understand exactly that feeling. Well done.

  • Slouching Toward Retirement

    I’m not ready to retire yet.  But if I squint I can see it from here. And I don’t like how it looks.

    womanondock Baby Boomer To Do List

    1. Figure out a retirement that I want to be a part of.

    2. Invent a new approach to assisted living/aging in place.

    3. Think up better ways to volunteer/give back.

    4. Consider my legacy—what it is and how I can help others understand and value it.

    5. Resist irrelevancy, crankiness, and being set in my ways.

    1. Figure out a retirement that I want to be a part of. 

    Trend specialists are always predicting that Baby Boomers will change the face of retirement, just as we have changed so many other institutions (the workplace, motherhood, marriage, etc.)  I sure hope so. Living in a retirement community where golf and bingo are the main attractions does not appeal to me.

    Boomers tend to think we’re pretty interesting, and we assume we’ll remain so in retirement. In fact, being cool is probably our birthright! Of course, we’ll invent a better version of retirement.

    But I wonder how excited we’ll be about riding our Harleys across the country, when our backs ache and our knees are going . . . . And that assumes we’ll even be retiring. Financial necessity will motivate a lot of Boomers to keep working past age 65. And who will be taking care of our elderly parents and the kids that might not be fully launched?

    OK, OK. That’s WAY too much reality. Retirement is years away. Let me get back to creatively daydreaming about how I want retirement to look.

    I want it to look like less work, more fun. I want a smaller place (less cleaning, less stuff), but I still want to have a postage stamp-sized yard so I can garden on a smaller scale. I hope to resume some hobbies I set aside for lack of time – pottery, for example. I’d like to learn how to do raku. Making stuff from paper—cards, collages and so forth. Jewelry and stained glass. Quilting and sewing. Maybe I’ll take up canning. Indulge my foodie self a bit more. Start a gourmet dinner group.

    Travel. Maybe I can learn enough Italian so I could teach English in Italy while my husband learns the secrets of Italian cooking. Or perhaps I can study abroad (can grown-ups do that, too?), Sounds expensive. Wait, wait. No reality.  I’m daydreaming here.

    Be more random and spontaneous. Take back roads and visit antique stores and cafes in little towns instead of always taking the interstate. Go to movies, concerts, plays, art galleries that I’ve never heard of. Decide on a Thursday to visit an airline fare sale city on Saturday—just to see what’s there.

    I’ll definitely keep on writing whether or not I get paid. I’ve got a lot more stories to tell and perspectives to share. Besides, I’m a writer to the bone—I can’t stop even if I want to.

    Keep thinking and learning. I’ve never understood how you retire your mind.  I’m way too curious and I love learning new things. I hope to audit college classes, take workshops, and read voraciously.

    I intend to continue volunteering, but perhaps in different ways (more to come about #3).

    I plan to keep active and healthy, but I don’t want to be obsessed with it. I’m unlikely to spend more than an hour per day on keeping fit.

    I want to help my kids fix up their homes when they buy them and play with their kids if they have some.

    Oh yeah, I’m still hoping to have some lasting impact on the world. I figure I’ve got at least 20 more good years. I ought to be able to change the world in that amount of time, right? I know, I know. Tick tock.

    Well, except for the last one, these are pretty modest retirement goals. Sounds like a life I could live.

    What do you hope to be doing?

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    3 responses to “Slouching Toward Retirement”

    1. Theresa Eisele Avatar
      Theresa Eisele

      What do I hope to be doing? There’s a chunk of land we bought seven years ago to build a new house. A dream that eventually changed directions. Now it’s referred to as an investment. Perhaps it’ll pay for our daughter’s post-high school education. Otherwise, I imagine using it to build a small retirement community for friends – old and young – to live, love, and laugh together until death do us part. It makes me smile to believe this dream could be a reality.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Retiring into a community if young and old — I like that !

    2. wendyaskinner Avatar

      Ellen you dreams for retirement sound like dreams for life–at any stage: Working is more like fun, taking classes, volunteering, helping our children and playing with younger children, immersing yourself in another culture, participating and enjoying the arts–changing the world! For me, this bucket list beats the others that include skydiving or climbing Mount Everest. This bucket list is about taking time and living a fulfilling life in relationship with others.


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