soccer, as in life

Darren's soccer players make me happy. Some he has coached since they were 10 years old. They are men now approaching 18. I still chill "lucky jello" before each game. The majority of the team have family in Mexico. What a privilege to get to know their stories. Driving them to Salt Lake for a game a few weeks ago I asked them to tell me about the cities and towns they come from. What richness and excitement. Tales of the architecture and amazement that is Mexico City. An 18 meter raised highway and a giant flag were captured on their cell phones and shared with me. They include me. Have even offered that I could "tag along" to Mexico one day. One young man joined the army last week. A 3.7 grade point average, 5 AP classes passed, a full-time job. Another young man wants to be a pediatrician. Another is a completely different soul after being baptized into a Christian church. I was immersed in in his conversion story. Another lost his brother and sister and cousin in a car accident. He broke his back and cracked his skull, wide open. Do you not want to just go and hold his mother? They are all fairly sheltered, polite and upstanding. They bring their younger siblings to the games if they are babysitting. They ride their bikes. Staying at Darren's parents in SLC walking home from a Real Salt Lake game they were terrified of the neighborhood. I giggled. And so last night at a game I was so disappointed with some behavior. Parents from the opposing team taunted them from the sideline. "Whoa, we better call the cops, I bet they have switchblades." Are you kidding me? "At least we don't fall down like little Mexicans." The coach yelled out, "That's not racist it is just stating the obvious." Now, I can't pretend that I have never been racist. I grew up in Utah without much diversity. My mother grew up in a town that she said at the time had, "one Lutheran." I am awful at Aggie football games. I shouldn't be allowed to sit so close to the opposing team. I catch myself being rude in the "name of humor" more often than I should be.  I have learned over the years that it is usually ignorance and fear of difference. But, I have also learned that listening to the person's story is more powerful than a sledgehammer in breaking down barriers. I ran out to the refs after the game and stated, "You can't let intimidating words change the game like that. They are not simply "Mexicans" they are young men playing soccer." They tied the game. They handled themselves like men. They were joyous. Words are power - for good and for bad.

At the end of August Luma Mufleh, coach of the Fugees, spoke for convocation. I had read "Outcasts United" at the suggestion of a friend. The students gave her a standing ovation. I had chills. She spoke about feminism, racism, America, truly a land of opportunity. A Muslim woman finding a strong purpose, guiding and loving and coaching refugee children and families through this new life in America. She didn't sugarcoat or gloss over the struggles. I was inspired. I wish I put words into action more often in my life.

 the team playing Africa United, a refugee team from SLC

(they were not playing this team when the above described incident happened)

don't you wish you could run like that?

keeping an eye on the ball

 the look on all their faces is priceless.

COOL

Like I said, words are power... words into action... goooooaaaaaalllllllllllll.

sweet & tenacious

I do have to say that I am a bit bitter after finishing my degree. Some of you may be confused, as I walked through graduation last year, but I still had revisions on my paper. Due to the sudden and unexpected death of my mother I was unable to finish those revisions in time and took an exemption for late completion. Meanwhile, our department installed its third department head in four years. Upheaval is an understatement. I have taught and filled in when any professor left or didn't want to teach a class. I usually was given the classes that were taught after 3:00 as others wanted to get home to their families. I worked hard and I loved it... but this year has been different. I struggled with egos and hierarchy within the system and was told several times, just don't say anything. Well, me being me, I can't keep quiet and a few heated discussions ensued. I did finish my requirements for receiving my diploma, but at this point, the restrictions, revisions, name-calling and overall bad form have made me wonder if it was worth it. I can honestly say I do not deserve to be treated in this manner, really no one does. My world felt very small and confined until April 18th when I decided to venture to SLC and take a chance on hearing and seeing Wangari Maathai, the first black female Nobel Laureate. I was not disappointed. Terry Tempest Williams introduced her as fierce and compassionate. After hearing her speak, my descriptive words were sweet and tenacious. She possesses the most amazing smile, inner calmness and patience... but you can feel that she will not be silenced, that she will keep on expressing her voice until it is finally heard. She loves. As TTW said, she expresses hope in the power of a seed... she started the Greenbelt Movement in Kenya... planting trees one at a time to change the world. She spoke about environmental degradation and how this is what is affecting most women in poverty in the world -- no access to clean drinking water -- my heart flushes when I hear this -- it should be a fundamental right for all people. She spoke of those in power who get used to the perks and luxuries of such a position and how they become the most dangerous as they are the most vulnerable to corruption. She listed a few things that we in the US can insist on in our quest to not forget Africa. Be engaged, keep speaking out, insist on good business practices and of course human rights and "We must not abandon Africa to China." She told of how she learned the 3Rs in the US -- Reduce, Reuse, Recycle and how she has added her own -- RESPECT [do not waste; show gratitude]. She was wearing a lovely beaded hummingbird brooch given to her by TTW. She told a story about the hummingbird, how during a raging forest fire all the animals were rushing out of the woods, bewildered and scared, the hummingbird kept going to the river sipping drops of water, flying back to the inferno to let the tiny bead of liquid fall into the flames, all the while thinking that this drop might make the difference. When confronted and made fun of by the other creatures the hummingbird replied, "I'm doing the best I can." And that, among all the other wise and profound thoughts she expressed was what I held to most, I want to be caught doing the best I can.

Note: I was privileged to be introduced to TTW afterwards. I told her about my paper, Interior Ecology and she said it was a beautiful phrase. I explained further research I would like to do, inspired by her writing and she said to email her. She held her hand out to me and said it was an honor to meet me. So maybe the obstacles placed in my way have not been for naught afterall. My heart is full.

biodiversity

Since biodiversity of ecosystems is a prominent section in my paper and I, of late, have an extreme distrust of tractors and machinery, this ad by Olgilvy in Germany caught my eye. Deceptively innocent with its "Mike Mulliganesque" illustrations.

(image via here)