Mac&Cheese and Clydesdale Horses

I almost cried at Superbowl 2011 because I was far from home and unable to indulge in American foods and lazing on sofas and watching a big screen.

I almost cried at Superbowl 2012 when I discovered two things: Kraft mac&cheese was not in my belly and I hadn't seen a Budweiser clydesdale commercial.

That's because, for better or for worse, these two things are full of memories. When we were kids and got together with old family friends to watch the Superbowl, regardless of what the adults ate for dinner, mom would whip up a mega bowl of Kraft mac&cheese. I never saw a bowl that big the other 364 days of the year. But at the Superbowl party, I could eat as much as I want. And eat I did.

She also loved those annual clydesdale commercials. When I finally searched the internet this morning for a replay, I was disappointed. I had, in fact, seen this commercial last night, but had no idea it was THE Clydesdale commercial. That's because those precious horses and their faithful dalmatian companion were hardly even featured.

Boo to clydesdales of 2012, but enjoy this Sue McGee favorite from 2008:

The Element of Surprise

When I was in high school, I made a pact with my newfound best friend that we would both throw each other a surprise birthday party sometime in our lives. The idea of a surprise party made me giddy! The air of anticipation, the coming together of people who love you, the truth that friends care enough about you to think of the sneakiest and best way to surprise you...and then are good enough friends to keep the secret.

Let's face it: you have to be known real well for someone to pull off a surprise for you. They not only have to know what will surprise you, but they have to know what will delight you and how to craft the surprise just so.

Over the span of pre- and post- Advent season, two of my favorite bloggers, Russ Ramsey at the Rabbit Room and Ryan Brazile in Madagascar wrote on the very topic of surprise...and more importantly, of surprise as a unique Kingdom experience. You could continue reading this post, or just as easily read those two men's accounts and get the same effect.

Russ writes of the time he had the privilege of witnessing a surprise birthday celebration for a friend that was organized by this friend's wife. He goes on to talk about the story of the angels visiting the shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem - where one angel delivers the message, followed by a multitude singing "Glory to God in the highest!":

"It was as if one angel had been chosen to bring the news of Jesus' coming to the shepherds, so the others said, 'Alright, but as soon as you spit it out, we're bursting in - because this is the greatest news ever!' It was as though they were waiting behind the celestial corner of heaven's door, and as soon as they were able they rushed in to celebrate what God was doing."

He goes on to say:

"One thing [the surprise party] awakened in me...is that in this life I am being led by the hand of God through the concert hall that is this world, and one day he will lead me to the stairs, and together we will ascend. God only knows what I will find there, but I'm certain my reaction will be something like, 'You got me. Wow. Look at all these faces of the people I love. Wow!"

Our God is a God who delights in surprises.

Ryan writes about why we love surprises so much. As he said,

"Perhaps it is the joy of thinking, 'You are about to be far happier than you realize."...'I was thinking about you and planning this party/gift/surprise when you weren't even aware. You were being loved behind the scenes the whole time, even when you thought everyone had forgotten your birthday/anniversary/you in general.'...Sometimes we surprise people people to give them something they would be too shy or timid to ask for because they never thought we would actually give it."

How true, right? But as I said, our God is a God who delights in surprises. For as Ryan points out,

Perhaps it is His joy in thinking, 'You are about to be far happier than you realize."...'I was thinking about you and planning this joy/grace/act of love when you weren't even aware. You were being loved behind the scenes all along, even when you doubted and thought I had forgotten your need/prayer/you in general.'...Sometimes He surprises us in order to give us something we would be too shy or timid or shortsighted to ask for because we never thought He would actually give it or even be able to give it."

I've been through seasons of surprise in my life - over friends, jobs, provisions, plans - and often shame myself for being surprised. Shouldn't I expect God to do great things? Why do I continue to be at such a loss for words?

It's because my God is a God of surprises. He knows me more deeply than anyone on earth and knows how to delight me.

That's why the Lord carefully plans my life, allowing me to only see small glimpses of His grace and glory as it unfolds. That is why He teaches me expectant patience in the waiting. He delights in my unexpected joy.

Here's to more and more days of surprises and glimpses of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth.

Why I'm Wearing White

"A religious body's right to self-governance must include the ability to select, and to be selective about, those who will serve as the very 'embodiment of its message.'" - Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito (9-0 opinion, Hosanna-Tabor v. EEOC)

Have you read this article yet?

Vanderbilt University has recently altered their non-discrimination policy in a way that disables the ability of student groups to choose their leaders based on principles of faith. While the University loves to boast in its diversity and lack of discrimination, in truth they are asking the entire body to conform to a homogenous set of values and rules that simply don't make sense across all student groups.

My own college experience and formative young adult years, and those of my dear friends, were deeply shaped by religious organizations at Vanderbilt: Reformed University Fellowship, CRU, the Baptist Collegiate Ministry, Beta Upsilon Chi, Vandy Catholic, InterVarsity, Navigators, and more. The beauty of these organizations' roles on campus is now in a perilous place.

I am proud to be a Commodore...most days. Today is not one of those days.

Please join me and many others across the nation in praying for our University's administration, leaders, staff, and students as they meet at an unprecedented Town Hall meeting tonight about the implementation of the new policies. Pray that the Lord may be glorified through the words and actions of the Body of Christ at Vanderbilt.

Today, I am wearing white to support my comrades at Vanderbilt. I am wearing white to display my convictions that religious organizations should be able to make decisions based on their religious beliefs. I am wearing white as a Commodore, as a Christian, and as a human. Join me.

Fly Away Home

The other night, thanks to cable TV, I rewatched the classic and underrated film "Fly Away Home." In case you forgot, this movie tells the true story of a girl who taught a motherless flock of geese how to fly south for the winter by leading them in a homemade airplane.

But that's not where the story begins.

Underscored by Mary Chapin Carpenter's impeccable "10,000 Miles," the story wordlessly begins with little Amy and her mother driving around New Zealand. They're exchanging laughs, watching the nightscapes pass by, and clearly enjoying a normal drive in the car together. And then the semi truck swerves, throwing their car off the road. The mother dies. Amy survives and goes to live with her estranged father in Canada, where she'll eventually become the surrogate mother of the flock of goslings.

Time after time, Amy and her father strive to come up with ways to teach the geese to fly south. Even if you haven't seen the movie before, you know they'll make it. Like most movies we love, this is a story of redemption. What strings us breathlessly along is not knowing if or when they'll hit trouble along the way.

We worry about Amy when the practice plane crashes with her in it in the field. We gasp when Igor the goose gets hit out of the sky. We fear that the law will catch up with them and the geese's wings will get clipped in the night. Our hearts race when the American military almost shoots Amy and the geese out of the sky. But we know they're going to make it. We know they're going to be okay in the end.

Isn't that our story, too? The Bible - the world's Great Story of redemption - has a "happy ending." The happiest, in fact. Yet throughout the Bible and our own lives, we continue to worry when the next ball will drop. Even though we know the ending.

I often catch myself full of fear or anxiety or breathless anticipation as life sits on the cusp of diverging down one road or the other. But like the movie, even though I don't know if Igor will die or if the plane will have enough fuel to get to the next stop, I know they're going to make it south and be more than alright.

I know the ending. Why do I continue to fear the middle so much?

Volunteer Teachers in Namibia

Apologies up front for this being a lengthier-than-normal post. Bear with me.

I want to share with you a little insight into one of the many reasons I left Namibia, which was that my service was, in fact, hurting my community more than helping it. I'd like to give you a little context from my own experience, the writings of another volunteer teacher, and a favorite book of mine.

When I left my teaching site, another WorldTeach volunteer took my place for the remainder of the last two terms of school. It was a relief to know that my classes would not go untaught, but still left me feeling conflicted knowing that the school was no longer benefitting from volunteer teachers.

I have no doubt that the first few volunteers at my school (which we'll abbreviate PSSS for anonymity and brevity) were beneficial. It is, after all, a rural school with more learners than any given teacher should have to oversee in one class. And I'm sure that at some point it did not have many resources.

But today, after eons of a white ruling principal and over five years of white volunteer teachers since, PSSS is a school at which many Namibian teachers are eager to teach, despite it being "in the bush." It is one of the more reputable schools in the country. And it is very well resourced compared to most schools in the region, with internet (even wi-fi as of late), a full and well-organized library, many computers, what appears to be an unlimited supply of paper, two copy machines, some air conditioning, and some of the highest paid teachers in the region.

Needless to say, PSSS does not need volunteer teachers.

Read what the volunteer after me wrote about in her blog when she left the school at the end of last year (reprinted with permission):

I was summoned back to school for a department meeting where we discussed who would take over which classes in the 2012 school year. One teacher got a new job in Katima, so we were short one teacher, and then there was the issue of the volunteer. The Head of Department, who is very dedicated and an awesome guy, turned to me and indicated that I should just ‘pretend’ like I was the volunteer and to take whatever classes I thought they would want. I responded with an inquiry, “What volunteer?”

I told WorldTeach long ago, as did the volunteer before me and the one before her, that [PSSS] does not benefit from having a volunteer after five years of non-sustainable assistance by untrained teachers. They looked at me quizzically, “The one that will come when you go.” I replied, stone-faced, “WorldTeach is not sending another volunteer to [PSSS].” It is not sustainable to have a volunteer year-in and year-out, and they have had Peace Corps volunteers, JICA (Japanese Peace Corps, basically), and WorldTeach, back-to-back, for more than 5 years. [PSSS] is apathetic to volunteers’ needs and wants and therefore, despite the convenient location of Ohangwena, should not be given preference when it comes to new arrivals in my opinion. Like I said, the previous two volunteers said the same. Their response shocked me:
“Why not?”
“Well, you didn’t request one, and all of the placements have been made, and there isn’t one assigned to [PSSS]; I checked weeks ago.”
“Of course we would have requested one; that doesn’t make any sense, we request one every year.”
“Well, no one did this year, and now it’s too late.”
“We will call Monday and request.”
“Well, alright, but it’s too late, really, they already did the assignments for next year and they have been placed at other schools. There aren’t any more.”
“We will just order more.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are always people wanting to volunteer; we will just order another one.”

To think that they honestly believe that they can simply “order more” volunteers – not unlike a textbook – without even having to request them on time makes me nauseous. I have told them numerous times that we pay for the experience, that we want to teach and to come to Namibia and to learn about a new culture and to be challenged. For some reason they still think that we simply have nothing else to do. They feel entitled to a volunteer and do not realize what we sacrifice to be a part of their community. Not that we are martyrs – I don’t mean that at all, since we do want to do it and have a desire to change ourselves and our communities through our work – but we do re-wire our brains for the duration of our stay here that we are here to help others and ultimately do what we are told. We often work harder than our colleagues with no thanks. Simply put, Namibian teachers do not understand the ‘volunteer spirit’ or why we come here, because they would never have the opportunity to do such a thing and likely even if they did, they wouldn’t, because they typically don’t travel and don’t see the value in it.

I wish I could say I was shocked when I read her post. But frankly, it didn't surprise me. I sighed and moved on.

The issue with development work is that we all should be striving to work ourselves out of our jobs. After all, "the entire goal of development work is for the local people to take charge of their individual lives and community" (p112)

It appears that PSSS is suffering immensely from years and years of unintentional paternalism. Intentional or unintentional, it's destructive. And it's time for them to get on their own feet and take charge of their lives, their systems, and their community.

Avoid paternalism. Do not do things for people that they can do for themselves. (p116)

There are two kinds of paternalism that affect PSSS: labor paternalism and managerial paternalism. The former is present when we do work for people who can do that work themselves. As I said before, I played a key role in labor paternalism at my school. I hate that.

Managerial paternalism occurs when we plan, manage, and direct things when locals could be doing that themselves. When Helping Hurts laid out several reasons why locals allow managerial paternalism; they fit my experience in Namibia so well that I unintentionally wrote "NAM" next to every single one.

- They [locals] do not need to take charge because they know that we [outsiders] will take charge if they wait long enough.
- They lack the confidence to take charge, particularly when the 'superior,' middle-to-upper-class North Americans are involved.
- They, like we, have internalized the messages of centuries of colonialism, slavery, and racism: Caucasians run things and everyone else follows [an exceptionally tender issue since apartheid was only just abolished 22 years ago]
- They know that by letting us run the show it is more likely that we will birng in money and other material resources to give to them. (p119)

Woof. Makes you want to vomit, right? There are so many ways that we can cause harm.

Needless to say, I'm grateful that PSSS finally has the opportunity to step out on its own. I'm excited for them to have an all-local Language Department. I'm glad that they're finally responding to the Ministry's kick in the pants to hire a local. I'm eager for them to learn that they can not only exist, but succeed without a white teacher at their school. They fear that the only possible outcome in this "sink or swim" situation is sinking, but I know they'll do the latter.

My, how much we all have left to learn.

The Fantastic Flying Books of Morris Lessmore

The complete version of Moonbot Studios' The Fantastic Flying Books of Morris Lessmore is up on Vimeo these days. This piece has been nominated for best animated short film in the 2012 Oscars. It's an endearing, speechless anecdote about the magic, mystery, and tenderness of our beloved books...and reminds me of the sweet eight wordless minutes in "Up" when the story of Carl & Ellie's life together unfolds.

Besides, who doesn't want to be oh so in-the-know as you're watching the Oscars and be able to say you've actually seen one of the nominated short films?

A Little More on Education in Namibia

Hope you're not tired of reading tidbits about Namibia. Despite my personal struggles there, my heart is still very much connected to the country and I feel the full gamut of emotions when it comes to discussions of education policy in Namibia.

Check out these two articles: University of Namibia rejects thousands of applicants (from the local national newspaper, The Namibian) and Namibia's language policy is "poisoning" children (from The Guardian).

What a pivotal time this is for the Ministry of Education as they strive to hone and perfect their policies for the betterment of the entire country. Join me in prayer for the leaders and teachers...and especially the young minds whose lives are so affected by these decisions.