Perfectionism and Success: Is it an Illusion?

Consider then, how all the peoples of the world are bowing the knee to a fancy of their own contriving, how they have created a creator within their own minds, and they call it the Fashioner of all that is—whereas in truth it is but an illusion. Thus are the people worshipping only an error of perception. - 'Abdu'l-Bahá

Recently I have been reflecting on what is success, what is good, what is getting it right and what does it mean to be doing well. We have all asked and been asked, How are you doing? and we respond, I'm good. I'm doing well. But what does that mean really? Does that mean all things are in order and everyone is marching ahead? Does that mean we are all getting straight As in life and everything we do? We have set up a system of good and bad, of right and wrong, and some of us make it and others fall short. But who set up this standard? How do we know if this standard is valid and what makes it a standard? There are two sources I go to when trying to decide whether something has merit or not: Divine Teachings and Stories.

Divine Teachings

What are divine teachings? They are also known as Holy books or Holy words and they come from the Prophets, messengers sent to guide humanity with a spiritual blueprint through this maze of life. One of the continuous strands of these great Teachers and their Texts is they all mirror each other. None of these Prophets deviates from the other in their spiritual concepts. They guide humanity forward with the same stream of guidance for the spirit:

• Be humble

• Embrace tests and difficulties

• Live a life of prayer and supplication

So then why do we think when life is hard or when we're facing mass difficulties that it is a sign that we failed? Why do we cringe back in shame when we don't "get life right"? Why do we think prayer and supplication are for nuns and monks cloistered on a mountain top? 

I think we have strayed so far from our spiritual blueprint that we have created our own measurements and they are based on the world's standards. We believe that there is such a thing as a gifted student that implies others are not. We believe that getting straight As means we have succeeded and when we prepare hard for something and don't get it, we have failed. We have forgotten we are spirit beings first with full access to all the powers of the spirit realm:

• Intuition

• Presence

• Love - Love - Love

These are powerful tools that can help us breakaway from this world of illusions where we measure our spirits to material standards. How far does your spirit stretch? Far beyond the canyons of the mountains, but how would you know this if every time you face a test and difficulty you cringe back in shame? If every time your kid does not make the honor roll, does not make the dean's list you hold back and wonder what you did wrong? It is not to say that those who do are getting it wrong either. It is to say that we should not measure ourselves against the false standards of man. Instead, we should look deep within and ask: 

• What am I learning about patience? about love? about being present?

• What am I learning about how to love deeply despite my loved one's shortcomings?

• What am I learning about staying in the conversation when things are not going well?

• What am I learning about what to do with deep pain and sorrow when I feel I can't seem to get things right? 

And what about stories?

Stories

I think beyond being a storyteller, I am also drawn to stories because a good story tells us of a life well-lived. They tell us of how life can try and shape and mold a person, but when led by Spirit, the protagonist in the story instead releases all control and is guided by a much deeper inner knowing, a calling, a truth that will not release them and while on the inside it is pure light and love, on the outside it can look like a mess and a half. 

What are examples of this kind of life? There are many and again, I often turn to those early believers of the great Prophets to see what they did when trying to live a life based on the spiritual blueprint they were given and not this external reality they live in. 

Paul comes to mind. I have not studied the Bible as many of my dear friends have, but when I am faced with great tests and difficulties - and I have been completely flattened out by tests numerous times - many of my dearest friends will ask me to look to the life of Paul. Paul, an early Christian teacher, spent the majority of his life in prison. He often referenced a deep and difficult pain that assailed him continuously and yet he learned to glory in this weakness because the message he got was, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness." And yet, all of us try and get away from weakness. Still, the great teachers of these stories show us that in weakness they are strong, in humility they are powerful. 

Another example for me of this understanding is someone more recent to our lives, South African Freedom Fighter Nelson Mandela. What a fiery power he was his whole life and yet how different this fire showed up at different times of his life! Initially as he worked tirelessly to break Apartheid he used this fire to place a constant strain on this unjust system. After he was imprisoned, he continued to fight and over time this fire bowed to humility and his gentle presence became a testament of faith in the nobility of the soul of all humans, even those who aspired to oppress him. 

• Humility 

• True joy in the face of extreme pain

• A life not of material successes

These are concepts we are not very comfortable with, instead we want demonstrations of material wealth, some outward manifestation of success that the world would applaud - surely this does not include: imprisonment, a C or D student, unemployment, underemployment. And of course, one does not desire these things, nor should one strive towards them. But if they happen to you, wouldn't the real measurement come with how did you walk these tests? Wouldn't the real question be, what can we all learn with you as you learn to walk these difficulties with spirit feet? Because if you are willing to expand, if you are willing to help us all break away from this illusion, you would invite us on this journey of life you are living and you would teach us about what you are learning:

• How does a soul expand beyond its current limitations?

• How does pain become a tool for healing and greater joy?

• How do we walk away from shame and embrace humility and truth-seeking?

I am learning these things and I invite you to walk with me and I will share all I learn. I hope you will do the same. 

And Who Are Your Elders?...Why Stories Matter.

 Somehow the third course carried into the late hours and the cousins table slowly dispersed into the living room and into bed. I would lay next to my sister and listen to the cups slide into each other and my tias interrupt each other and my father say – otro mas, para que se vayan a dormir – and everyone would laugh and refill cups and Spanish would mix with Quechua creating the background to my dreams. - Excerpt from the upcoming An Amancaya Life

I grew up in a family of storytellers. Both sides of my family told stories, though in very different ways. My mother would keep us enthralled in car rides or while tucking us in bed with stories of her dog Scoutie and the many adventures of her and her brothers with their father in New England. My mother's sister would show me letters from our early ancestors and of the difficulties they faced as the first European pilgrims in North America. My father's stories were always told over food and with his sisters and brother all around the table talking over each other adding details to their stories and making them larger than life. They would tell of the mischief they made in their home back in Bolivia where my grandmother had lots of land. They would tell of the many baskets of fruit and vegetables they harvested, so much so that they often took big baskets to the church, to widows and elders who might be in need. These stories became the backdrop of my life. These stories held the dreams of my elders, their wishes and desires and most importantly, their failures and triumphs, which spoke of the nature of life - filled with injustices and unexpected rewards.

These are the stories of our elders, those who made strides and great efforts before us. Telling our stories keeps us connected to each other and also reminds us of sacrifices made for us by those we didn't even know and oftentimes weren't related to.

The narrative of working hard and getting ahead in life is a powerful one and if we believe that this is all we have to do, then we look around us and make a lot of judgements about those who are not "getting ahead" in life. Thankfully, once again, stories save us from ourselves and these false narratives we tell ourselves and society. Stories tell a fuller truth and our lives become the complex reality of good vs evil all wrapped in one.

And so, it was with great intrigue that I came across some of these stories in this new part of California that I have the blessing to make my home (Resource of African-Americans in Santa Cruz). As my daughter and I and a good friend explored the Museum of Art and History in Santa Cruz, lovingly referred to as the MAH, we came across some unexpected stories that once again reshaped our thinking around this myth of

meritocracy. We learned about Dave Boffman who was an enslaved man in Kentucky and who traveled to California with the slaveowner of the plantation he lived on. Boffman was able to earn enough money to buy his freedom, he bought a house, leased a saw mill and began working to mill timber. He even purchased a small ranch in Rodeo Gulch, becoming one of the first African-American land owners in Santa Cruz. The sheriff at the time accused him of stealing a horse. As Blacks were not allowed to testify in court during the 1800s, he lost everything and spent the rest of his life in a shack. Boffman's story contradicts the myth of African-American's not working hard enough and instead demonstrates how systematic racism created conditions of oppression and loss of wealth.

Another elder we learned about was Louden Nelson, also enslaved from North Carolina who came to

California with the slaveowner. He also was able to buy his freedom and worked in odd jobs while growing fruits and vegetables on his farm. He was also able to buy land by the San Lorenzo River. Nelson noticed how children in Santa Cruz could only go to school when their parents could pay and of course, school was restricted only for white children. Having never been allowed to go to school to receive formal education and being stripped of his ancestral knowledge, Nelson recognized the value of education. Finally, the all white school board shut down public schools unwilling to fund them any longer. Upon his death, Nelson bequeathed his entire estate to the school children of Santa Cruz, therefore allowing public schools to open once again. Another example that demonstrates how the spirit of a people cannot be destroyed, and despite the conditions of oppression that stripped him of the right to an education, Nelson chose a nobler path of serving all students in public education with his endowment.

And finally, we were able to recently connect with some of the elders of the Amah Mutsun Tribe, whose land Santa Cruz was built on.

When I met Catherine, I told her my name.
Ymasumac?, she said.
Yes, I answered.
Like from Pachamama and Mama Occlo.

I had never known anyone to know the names of my ancestors guides, much less upon first meeting

Author with Catherine and her family

each other. We immediately hugged in sisterhood and spent over an hour connecting over dreams, tears, and stories. We knew our stories were long ago connected through shared ancestry of struggle, resilience and hope and this created an immediate bond. We knew we had long ago met and we were meant to teach each other again of all that was lost. I also knew it is with gentle feet that I need to walk these Santa Cruz mountains because all of it was lost to the Amah Mutsun and that needs to be honored. How do we right these wrongs? Building relationships and friendships is the beginning...and you let love lead.

You see, these stories keep us and our walk sacred. These stories of our elders reminds us of the truth of injustice, of struggle, of loss, of triumph and of victories to come. They keep us humble and keep us moving forward. When we have nothing else, we have stories and they connect us to our elders and to each other.

Perception Drives Beliefs which Alter Reality

I was preparing a for a class recently at the university where I teach a course on adolescence and we were going to talk about the school system. Having been raised in two very distinct cultures: Indigenous-Latino with Quechua roots and European American who's ancestors came two years after the first pilgrims came to North America, I am highly conscious of the filters with which we view the world and how they are shaped by our perceptions, which in turn are deeply impacted by our belief systems and highly impacted by our cultural references that impact norms and standards. So, when I think of reality, I am always looking for multiple realities knowing that it highly depends on the doorway of your perception.

When we talk about the U.S. system of education, we cannot divorce this from these multiple realities. We cannot speak about a system of education as if it holds only one window in which we all look through. Our experiences in any system of education will depend highly on the door in which we walk in.  As I researched for my class, I came across a letter from the interactions between the early European pilgrims and the Indigenous people of the Eastern states of North America. It was a response from one of the tribal elders to the colonists. In this letter the elder mentions an invitation made by the colonists for the tribe to send their brightest men to attend the college of the colonists. The tribe responded and a few of their men were sent. Upon returning to the tribe, these young men found their new found skills to be of no use and felt useless in face of the needs of the tribe. The elder mentions this in the letter and in turn invites the colonists to send them their brightest and best young men to be educated by the tribe. The colonists never respond to this invitation.

The interactions of this letter made me think how we define success and value according to our perceptions of reality and belief systems. If we value individualism, competition, and assertiveness than we may very well find success in our educational system as this is the doorway in which it was set up with a set of Western values and norms. But, as the letter suggests, if you enter through a different doorway, as did the elder's young men, then these offer very little value to the survival of your family and more importantly, tribe. If the colonists entered through the doorway of the tribal people on whose land they were building a nation, they might have found that instead of individualism, competition and assertiveness, they would find success through developing a collectivist approach to their tasks in which collectivism, collaboration and group consensus would take precedence. 

So, this is interesting historically, but what are the implications for today? 

Our schools are set up with a learning culture that ultimately, at its core, believes in individualism, competing and striving to be at the top and asserting yourself over others. If you walk in through this doorway and you hold these beliefs to be true, then you could do well. But if you are like me, and either you walk in two worlds in which one is collectivistic and one is individualistic, it is much harder to choose which doorway to walk through. One doorway sacrifices the other. 

So what to do?

When I think of this seemingly conundrum, there are two shifts that I think need to be a part of the change we all seek in the educational system and even in our home learning cultures. 

Multiple Doorways

It is important to recognize that many of us are walking through different doorways into a learning space. I don't mean different doorways in the sense that we are all individuals and with different strengths and weaknesses. I mean collectively, groups have different realities according to their cultural groups and the norms and beliefs of those groups that shape their world view and value system as in the example shared in the letter. 

Many students walk in through different doorways according to their culture and those things valued by each may differ than the school's dominant culture. This may seem small at first, but placing a student in between two cultures can create a clash, which without guidance, can cause an inner conflict. They might be left feeling that they have to choose one doorway to enter into the educational realm successfully, which can by its very nature ask them to sacrifice the other. 

Couple this conflict with the history of oppression humanity has experienced in various ways, in particular through its experiences of colonialism, and you have another layer of right and wrong. The right doorway to enter is through the dominant culture where you develop a strong sense of self and let that self-drive push you through to the top: the top of your class, your team, your group, your class, your art, your sport, your field, etc, etc, etc. This doorway will lead to success as defined by Western standards. 

We can help students with this conflict in two ways: 

One is to understand that these multiple doorways exist. This alone helps students realize that this conflict is not about them being inherently flawed for not finding the right way to succeed. Instead they can begin to work through the gifts and challenges of each doorway and help schools stretch into larger versions of excellence and success. Challenge the system to be more and ultimately, begin questioning itself.

Two, explore the history of oppression and its impact on all people. It did not only impact people of color negatively, those of European descent lost their humanity in order to ride the wave of success of colonialism. Explore with students how this oppression was systemized and shows up today in our school system, our neighborhoods, housing, etc. An excellent article on the Myth of Meritocracy cites a research study in which middle schoolers who came from historically oppressed communities did well academically until they reached the 7th grade. In 7th grade, right at the time when they begin to form a sense of cultural identity, they see the conditions of their home community group and because meritocracy is so strong in the dominant culture of the United States, they falsely believe the conditions of their people are because of an inherent flaw within them. Self-identifying with the negative stereotypes told about their cultural group, they fall into behaviors that ultimately harm them. The research study found that by empowering students with the truth of systematic oppression, students begin to realize it is a systemic condition and can be changed. Students begin to see themselves as protagonists of change, able to shift the reality of the conditions in which they live. 

Seeking Truth Through Consultation

Another important shift is moving away from dichotomous thinking. We currently live in a society

that is strongly polarized by right and wrong, yes and no, and when we think in these terms no one wins. Like a child moving through adolescence, we can try and hold onto these false dichotomies of right and wrong in an effort to find calm and balance in a world that increasingly feels unbalanced. As humanity collectively moves through the stage of adolescence, we will increasingly find ourselves needing to move away from simple answers of yes and no, to searching through the complexity of human experiences for the truth. This search for truth will require a new tool that can elevate our conversations from finger-pointing that runs on fear and pain, to a recognition of the oneness of humanity and the inherent value that each human soul has something of deep value to contribute. 

I have found the tool of consultation to be of great value for me and my family as we try and sift through the diverse cultures and belief systems that run through our family to the truth. Along with many other families, the hard realities of the society we live in have impacted us deeply and we at times also feel lost and confused. And, like other families, with historical oppression running deep in our blood, one can feel overwhelmed by the pain and anger that can well up at the callous effects this oppression can have on family relations and with larger society. The effects of oppression can show up in mental illness, in a false sense of isolation and division among loved ones, self-identifying with stereotypes and often feeling not good enough. These have all shown up at my doorstep either through familial experiences or with the many noble souls I get to engage with in healing work who try to shift through the mire of pain, fear and anger that wells up inside of them. 

I use consultation in the tradition of the Baha'i Faith, which asks the participants to detach from hoped for outcomes and instead to enter the consultation with a pure heart in search of truth. 

The first condition is absolute love and harmony - 'Abdu'l-Bahá 

As humanity moves through the mire of difficulties that lies before it, we can no longer hope to strong arm each other in believing that there is only one of us who is right. We must begin the path of maturity in which we recognize that humans are complex beings with many paths and doorways traveling through and around them. That answers lie in learning from each other and with each other. That truth will only come when we stop holding onto our version of reality as the only version. When we begin to recognize, that maybe there are multiple ways to view and experience the world, and to learn from each other about these multiple ways might mean suspending the truth as we know it with an open heart for a new truth to show up. 

Finding Purpose in a World that Demands Perfection

I have been deeply engaged in between worlds lately and though this is not unusual for me as I've straddled two cultures my entire life being bi-racial, in this case the world I've been engaged with is the spirit world. This may seem like an odd statement, but with the passing of my mother-in-law I have been reflecting a lot on how the spirit shows up in this world.

My mother-in-law was from a people with a profound history of struggle, spiritual triumph and

Grandma Davis standing behind her mother

steadfastness. She was from the African-American people of Louisiana, the Cherokee and also European-American. When you come from a people that have undergone such strong oppression and have demonstrated such clear resistance through their acts of courage and faith, you cannot help but express this courage and faith through a heart that is strong with an almost boundless kindness that gives constantly. This was my experience of her from the moment I met her, she had boundless energy and was in constant motion, usually helping and serving others. And her strength was a characteristic I will never forget, she carried it with her in every word and every stance she took in the world. So as she began her transition to the spirit world I began to see less movement, a stillness took over and a quietness unlike her nature.
The day we went to the hospital and her transition had taken place I saw what an elder from the Mohican Nation meant by our body being an earthsuit. Our earthsuit, it is the body we were given upon our soul's entrance into this world. Our earthsuit, it is the way our soul travels this world and is animated by our soul's expression. The many different shapes, colors, sizes and atrributes of earthsuits is a reflection of the Creator's love for and desire to see diversity in all things. So on this day, I saw my mother-in-law's earthsuit clearly absent of it's animating force...the strength, the steadfastness of faith and the constant motion of the heart to lean towards kindness...all these attributes of the spirit were no longer present and what was left behind was the beautiful earthsuit who had with constant devotion carried her soul through this world.

What then is our purpose in this life if that which is the essence of who we are is invisible and leaves upon our earthly life's completion of it's mission?

I also think of the role suffering and sacrifice carry in developing this purpose. After all, so many of us experience both suffering and sacrifice during this lifetime and some groups experience this more than others. In thinking of these elements of life and how they showed up in my mother-in-law's life, I am deeply moved by the service that followed her transition. The focus of the preacher and all of those who spoke, was not of the mountains of physical wealth she may or may not have accumulated, but what she did to serve others, to uplift those in need, to keep her children and grand-children close to Spirit and even the joy she took in getting lost!

This journey of a life made me think of the following quote...

"...place a certain gratitude and respect in the hearts of children for those who have given them life and sent their souls out on the eternal journey towards their Creator." - Shoghi Effendi

This made me reflect on the role parents have to play and that after the age of maturity the role changes to guide, not direct mentor. So then my task as the daughter, is one of gratitude for what my parents were able to do and then to carry forward in developing the capacities of my spirit. This movement to gratitude is exactly that, a movement. We so often want to jump right to gratitude and ignore the pain, anger and sometimes even trauma that might reside in our earthsuit from poor choices made by the adults in our lives as children. As someone who understands the walk of healing and the work, time and attention it demands, I completely believe this is a process and not an end result. This does not mean you do not arrive a new sense of self, free of burdening thoughts and beliefs...it just means new areas demanding growth is uncovered demanding even greater focus and attention. Growth is a way of walking, very different than the insistence of perfection.

This brought my thoughts to another reflection: how does our purpose develop?

In a material world we strive for perfection, it is almost demanded of us as we build our buildings and ensure they are to code for failure of this could prove disastrous or surgical procedures demand exactness for the failure to a precise surgical procedure could reek havoc on the body. When we try to apply this same demand on the world of spirit it becomes much more difficult, almost impossible. The spirit world is a world of growth, not immediate perfection...we strive for perfection, but we cannot demand perfection as an immediate response, we must create conditions that allow us to move closer to perfection. For example, we cannot take a seed and demand it be a plant, we must create the conditions and nurture this plant to fulfill it's greatest potential and expression of perfection - which for each plant is unique - even among the same species. Forcing perfection of a seed will only lead to its destruction and forever crippling it reaching its true potential.

How then do we demand perfection of spirit beings?

I know this may sound like "new age" talk to call us spirit beings, but watch anyone transition out of this life and you know the animating force of our earthsuit comes from some invisible power we carry. How then can we demand of this force immediate perfection in its expression? Just like the seed that holds its inherent power and capacity within, the expression of this power and capacity comes with time and nurturing.

We must then instead focus our time and energy on nurturing within us and others the potential of their true nature, which lies deep within their soul and even they themselves may not be aware of its true capacity. How to do this then? I follow the cues of those who have suffered greatly and have risen with boundless joy. I also follow the cues of the world of nature as an example of growth and development.

How does suffering and sacrifice create conditions for growth? In the world of nature these are the necessary conditions for any growth to take place: A plant sacrifices the seed for the shoot to break out and begin to grow, muscles rip and stretch with every workout to sacrifice its current state in search of a stronger and more powerful state. We see this same expression of growth in those who have suffered greatly: In the Americas indigenous people have been recipients of grave injustices, displacement from their traditional lands, disruption in their ceremonial practices that understood the delicate balance between the spirit and the material world and all but complete obliteration of their scientific discoveries. How do they respond? Resistance shows up in their ceremonies continuing underground which develops a deep faith in these practices of their ancestors. Resistance shows up in the way in which they continue to teach their children to maintain their noble practices of communal and collaborative living, the sharing of their resources and knowledge freely because wisdom is not a commodity that should be bought or sold, and an understanding of the power of storytelling encased

in humility and joy to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization. Organizing using 21st Century

Non-Profit organization offering healing

tools, like White Bison, to share the knowledge and wisdom for healing. These, just some of the ways a people have resisted total annihilation through colonization and its attempted destruction of their cultures and assimilation. These practices require a deep faith in the potential of their people and a sacrifice of how things were to the creation of something new with the qualities and attributes of their former civilizations blending and shaping a new world. Like the seed always carried inherent within itself the qualities of its true potential, what was sacrificed was the shell of the seed, not the qualities and potential. This is the gift of those who have suffered and sacrificed: they sacrifice the former state of expression, without sacrificing the noble qualities that were held inherently within them as a people.

This new expression of the inherent nobility of indigenous people does not come immediately, it comes with nurturing and the creation of conditions that allow their inherent qualities of a people to arise to the forefront. One of the dominant qualities I think of that is often held within indigenous cultures, mine included, is that of humility. We take joy in the accomplishments of the group and not that of the individual. There is recognition in the web of interdependence among all living beings and this interdependence is to be celebrated knowing we play a role within this web. There is a time where an individual member might shine, always this is with an acknowledgment of the group that holds them up. How this beautiful quality within this noble people will show up in the 21st century we are yet to see fully expressed, but when it does it will play a dynamic role in the reshaping of society to reflect its more honorable qualities.

What then is my purpose?

To play my part in developing and cultivating these noble qualities within me and allow them to show up through my chosen craft, my highest desire, what I am curious about, what calls to me that allows the expression of these distinguished qualities I carry within. And this, this is not something that happens immediately nor with perfection...it is something that happens overtime with focused attention and my creating conditions to support their development. Anytime I demand perfection of myself or others, I am in danger of disrupting this tender process of growth by damaging the conditions of growth with my impatience that is often triggered by fear leaving a lasting impact on the expression of my gifts.

When I transition from this earthly life, I too will carry with me all the beauty and grace I chose to cultivate and develop...I hope to not leave behind a legacy of perfection, but that of a constant and humble effort.

People become expendable in a consumer driven society

"Children are the most precious treasure a community can possess, for in them are the promise and guarantee of the future. They bear the seeds of the character of future society which is largely shaped by what the adults constituting the community do or fail to do with respect to children. They are a trust no community can neglect with impunity. An all-embracing love of children, the manner of treating them, the quality of the attention shown them, the spirit of adult behavior toward them—these are all among the vital aspects of the requisite attitude." - Baha'i

Like so many of us, I too have been reflecting on separation of families at the United States border as families seek asylum and wondering, how do I respond? What is my role? How can I be of most service? And as information passes over my phone I am deeply troubled by the narrative that is shaping this conversation...

The conditions of the detention centers are good        They have clean beds, go to classes, play games                    They are held in cages        Children are in good spirits         They have foils for blankets

It seems that what is driving the narrative is volatile and emotionally driven language, the importance of the physical conditions in which the children are placed and when attention is given to any reference to the children's emotional well-being it is in the most glib of phrases. And what is most missing, is the voice of immigrants from people of non-Western descent. This is of vast concern and yet, should not surprise us. Our personal lives often reflect our outer reality. In a world in which value is measured by material means and wealth, our barometer becomes limited to the physical realm: Do we have potable water and food? Do we have a bed (of Western standards) and do the conditions of my space mirror the standard imposed by the West? Well-being becomes measured against a Western standard of health: Physical conditions, check. Neutral emotional conditions, check. 

In the dialogue I have engaged in over immigration, especially childhood separation from parents, the physical conditions are never central to the experience and the emotions are far from neutral. 

In the vast healing work I have engaged in over the past twenty-five years, both my own and that of others, here is what I have learned about childhood separation: 

The body holds the memory 

Our bodies are our greatest gifts in this material realm and their sole responsibility is to allow our spirit to walk this world. In this walk we will encounter so many challenges and difficulties, deep trials and tribulations, and our body will record them all. 

Your story is not lost. It is yours to recover and tell.

My sister & I were young children when we fled our country due to religious persecution. My father along with many other Baha’is was imprisoned, tortured & eventually killed for being a Baha’i, and I was expelled from elementary school for the same reason. As Baha’is we weren’t allowed to get a passport to leave our country, so we fled with a tiny backpack with a group of other Baha’is in the dead of night. We traveled on camelback and on foot with very little food for an entire week with the constant fear of being caught & sent back to Iran. Once we arrived at the border in Pakistan, fully exhausted & completely malnourished, we were arrested and put in prison for being illegal immigrants. I can NOT imagine being separated from my mother in that fearful moment after everything we had been through. Eventually, through the efforts of the UN, we were released, given refugee status, and after three years they found a host country that was willing to take us in.

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I came to this country at the age of 8 without my parents. A loving aunt brought my sister and me. She and her family created a welcoming environment in those few months until my parents joined us. I remember ice cream sandwiches, tuna fish, Big Macs, all the foods I had never eaten before. We dressed up for Halloween and did other American stuff.

Even with all the loving efforts, I still often woke up in the middle of the night during those months feeling worried and wanting my mother. I was introduced to the Snoopy movie during that time, and what I remember most is the theme of being lost and the lyrics, "Snoopy, Snoopy come home." That feeling of displacement in a new country where I didn't speak the language and didn't know what was going on half the time haunted me for years, and I still flash back on it at times.

Today I heard a journalist describe how wonderful the Walmart he visited was for the separated children, the basketball courts, the cafeteria...and all I could think was..he hasn't a clue.

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When I was three my mother needed me to go from our home state to the state my father lived in and without familial support, utterly exhausted from her separation of a crippling marriage, she could not see other means of sending me than by hiring a stranger. I remember being told what a bubbly, sweet and precocious child I was and how excited I was to board a plane. I told the security guard at the gate I was on my way to "Kleenex" not knowing how to say Phoenix. 

As I was handed over to a complete stranger and we walked away from my mother I remember melting inside, my body stiffened with fear and all I wanted to do was scream and run back to her. I didn't understand why I was being given away.  

I began to collapse and nobody could see it. 

We boarded the plane and I was screaming, pulling at every and anything to get out...and no one could hear me. When the cabin door closed, I cried, my throat ached from the shrieks of loss and confusion...all happening internally. And then, it all went dark, I collapsed inside and was lost forever. 

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We were five and three and my mother had tried to get us across the border before with her, but we were caught and returned. This time, she decided to send us ahead with a lady and a man. She would come later. My sister and I sat crying in the back seat all the way to the border. Close to the border, the lady turned around and sharply yelled, "Callense". I saw my sister's tears evaporate, her face turned to stone and she disappeared. This part of who she is would not come back again until she was attending college at UCLA. I don't know where she went. I don't know where I went either. 

Emotional connection matters

The approach to emotion from a Western perspective has been to contain emotion by nullifying its existence. We see this in the stories we are told today about the treatment of the children separated from their families: No physical contact allowed, not among them or anyone else. No comforting of any kind. 

This is not a new imposition from the West. The stories of horror told about the boarding schools young indigenous children of North America were forced to endure as they too were stripped from their families. There was no tolerance of and no support of any emotions. 

In our own present day schools, teachers are told not to hug, not to touch students. In a society that insists on the physical realm being the most important, it has highly sexualized all physical interactions. Allowing for extremes of behavior and belief creates the conditions for perversions to surface. If we are to learn how to interact with each other outside of highly sexualized norms, we must be willing to move away from extremes of behaviors and open up the discourse of learning outside of one purview, in this case Western. 

I remember when I was living and working among the indigenous people from the U'wa tribe of the Andes mountains in Colombia I had a powerful lesson on honoring emotions. As we moved from the fast-paced city of Bogota, to the towns and villages of the Foothills of the mountains to deep within the rainforest and the villages of the rainforest; I was struck by the change in sharp energy and most importantly, the lack of children crying. There were children to be sure, but the cries of pain, neglect and loss, seemed minimal, if not absent. 

There was one evening we were invited to participate in the copara ceremony, the placing of the copara hat, a symbol to the community that a young lady had begun menstruating and would be of age to marry in a few years time. It was a ceremony that was to last all night, beginning at sunset and ending at sunrise. We gathered in one hut and as we did the villagers began to chant with the young girl in the center of the circle. The hut was packed with people swaying and chanting. There was a ceremonial drink passed around and smudging with herbs on a fire. The chanting told the story of their people, where they had come from, what they had endured and how they endured: the gifts of the environment, the reliance on a divine source that sustained them, the values they held of gratitude for each other, their food, their shelter. It was a story of resistance and a witnessing of triumph. As the hours passed the chanting and swaying only increased. The devotion of the singers was palpable. There were also no sharp edges. Some people left the hut to sit in the night air and when they were ready, they came back in the hut to join in. There was a rhythm they understood and everyone respected. At some point during the late hours of the night I saw one of the smaller children sitting near her mom, who was a singer, begin to cry. Her mother gently pulled her close to her chest as she continued singing and soothed her. The young girl continued to cry, and after a few minutes, it subsided and passed and she rest quietly on her mother's chest. I was humbled to have witnessed such a beautiful honoring of emotions. Without any judgement of the space or the time in which the young child began to cry, the mother honored the emotions, while continuing to honor the space. 

Moving away from false dichotomies

We often feel as if we need to choose: What is the right way? Do I do this or that? As if human beings and our emotions and the systems we live in are not more complex. This does not on the other end mean Anything goes!

These are the false dichotomies we create and our society thrives on telling us, it must be this or that. So long as the narrative stays in what appears to be opposing sides, it keeps the truth at bay and creates divisions, rather than a unified reality. 

What moved me about the experience I had during the ceremony with the U'wa people, was the ability of the mother to honor her daughter's needs, while also honoring the needs of the space. She moved as part of a seamless whole. 

All of us matters, that includes our external and internal realities. How can we learn to not ignore the external conditions, while at the same time honor the internal reality and recognize them as part of a cohesive whole. 

This is one minor part of the discussion of the separation of immigrant families. The larger part of this discourse cannot be lost on us: How is this horrific experience of immigrants symptomatic of the lack of recognition of the oneness of humanity?

  

John Muir: How A Single Story Can Diminish All Other Stories

I recently had an opportunity to read student essays that were being judged for a county competition. I came across an essay about the story of John Muir, renowned as an adventurer, environmentalist and botanist. As I read his story, I learned that he was an immigrant from Scotland in 1849 and after working on a farm, studying at the University about botany, he began working at a warehouse. After a year he decided he was done and he was going to respond to his true calling of being an explorer and the study of botany.

John Muir often called his explorations wanderings and it was at this point that I got irritated.

As I reflected on John Muir and the option he had to wander after feeling that he wanted to follow his truth, I thought of all my indigenous ancestors who did not have that option in 1849. In fact, it was the opposite. See their truth had been to follow the traditional way of their ancestors and to wander in rhythm with nature and move according to her seasons. Western anthropologists call this a nomadic lifestyle. I call it, being in tune with nature and following her rhythm to provide for their families and community. No matter what we call it, as reported in 1850 by the Daily Alta California, "Whites are becoming impressed with the belief that it will be absolutely necessary to exterminate the savages before they can labor much longer in the mines with security." And with that, state sanctioned killings of entire villages took place. The Pomo tribe experienced 800 of its members killed in what became known as Bloody Island. 

In Yosemite, one of the most prized areas often associated with John Muir in 1850 was beginning the Mariposa War where the Ahwahneechees and Chowchillas traditionally lived and were being systematically removed so that miners could mine for gold "safely". They were not allowed to continue their traditional way of living, if they chose to wander they could be killed. Nevermind the wealth of information they carried of the land and all of the gifts the natural plant life had to offer. 

Mass burial at Wounded Knee

And what of the plains tribes? In 1849 Crazy Horse from the Oglala Lakota was a child being raised in the traditional ways of his people. That would soon change as land across the plains was being divided and divvied up among the white settlers, displacing entire tribes from their ancestral land with force, indescribable violence and mass killings. For those, like Crazy Horse who would grow up to hold onto the traditional way of his people and as chief of his band live according to the seasons of the plains, their fate was very different than that of the Scottish immigrant. Unlike John Muir, they were not called wanderers, nor were his people being hailed as environmentalists who understood botany on a very intimate level, they were called Wild Indians and if they did not acquiesce to confinement on reservations where their travel and movement was limited to the confines of the reservation, they would be massacred. 

And what of the Black community? In 1849 maybe one of them thought they too were tired of working in the fields and wanted to follow their truth and wander across these lands to explore and discover. And yet had they done this, they would be a fugitive, killed or if they didn't work, called lazy and ignorant. 

And these quick reflections of mine does not begin to touch on the struggles of Mexicans who were caught between governments fighting for land, with pillaging and raping of their towns and villages. And the all too common stigma of lazy Mexican is one to reflect on in light of a European immigrant who wandered these United States, often not working and just taking in the solace that nature provides. 

So why be concerned? 

Because the only story told in our classrooms is that of John Muir and how his wanderings led him to "discover" the beauty of our land and the riches she has to offer. How his wanderings allowed for him to advocate for national land and protection of our natural heritage. That is all wonderful. 

But it negates that people of color have been doing this long before John Muir and were systematically massacred and silenced. 

Three Lakota boys

Those that survived were again cut from any of their ancestral heritage and wisdom by forcibly being placed in boarding schools that have been revealed to have been wrought with dehumanizing conditions and constant abuse. Tsianina Lomawaima, head of the American Indian Studies program at the University of Arizona, says from the start, the government's objective was to "erase and replace" Indian culture, part of a larger strategy to conquer Indians.

By being shut out from this narrative, people of color once again look as if they have not really accomplished anything. In this narrative of John Muir's that we tell in our classrooms it is only John Muir who is celebrated for following his truth and "saving" our environmental heritage. 

As a student of color you don't see yourself in this narrative, as a matter of fact, the only time you see yourself is as the defeated tribes who lived in the wild or enslaved people born of nowhere, working on plantations, or a strange people who came across the water only to work on railroads and mines with no families allowed, or a people who are strangers in their own land known to be lazy and violent. You see no other storyline in our schools and for all students this creates a false perception of divisiveness and notions of superiority and inferiority.

I am not talking about the need for a special class on ethnic heritage or a special series of books about certain chiefs or leaders of color for children to read about. Although these are noble attempts, they do not legitimize the voices of the people of color who have equal weight in knowledge and understanding - if not more - than the white person that has been chosen in their stead. In this case, an immigrant from Scotland. Would not Chief Joseph or any medicine man or woman from his tribe known more than an immigrant from Scotland and have been able to contribute meaningfully to the learning and discourse John Muir was having about the flora, fauna and geology of this beautiful country? 

The dominant discourse in this country on icons like John Muir is able to ignore the rampant injustices that were happening to the people from the same land John Muir was hailing, because the people being displaced from these soon to be National Parks were not seen with the same value as white Europeans. Had the 800 Pomo Indians massacred on Trinity Lake, a lake later hailed in John Muir's journals for its beauty, been Scottish, John Muir would not be talking about the lake!

The sting in all of this, is after systematically trying to dehumanize and destroy people of color and their contributions to the story of humanity, we today quote many of those chiefs and leaders we were so willing to destroy. 

It is not enough to say, "that is the past" or "I didn't do that" when we continue to perpetuate only one story of our shared history. This is not about making any one group a villain. It is about telling the whole story and when we do, sometimes the truth can be ugly. But if we are willing to walk through the pain together, hear how today the choices of our white ancestors gave an unfair advantage to people like John Muir and their descendants, who today may have a long standing history of education and financial gain and security because of the choices afforded their ancestors. And when you understand the entire picture and you realize that while many people of color may have wanted to pursue an education, start a business or wander these United States, they were unable to because they were facing massive persecution, incarceration, and systematic destruction of their people, then maybe we can ask ourselves - how do we heal and support one another to reach our true capacity as one people? 

If we are to truly embrace one another in brotherhood as one human family, we have to be willing to tell all stories. To not only hear other narratives, but to open up the discourse to other experiences and truths. 

In the end, I am grateful to John Muir, and like all of us this call to truth is important and can be hard to follow. But I have to say, it is not to him I look to for hope or strength or vision or even truth. I look to my ancestors who struggled to keep the truth of their vision alive, no matter the sacrifices, especially when powerful forces waged against them. To Wascar from the Quechua people, to Crazy Horse of the Oglala Lakota, to Nelson Mandela of the Thembu tribe to Malcolm X to my Nana Mitchell and Mama Cruzesa. These leaders are part of my narrative for they continued to dig in deep to find their connection to a greater source of power and with that understanding of themselves as noble beings, they pushed back against an oppressive and destructive system that would have them believe otherwise. 

This sustains me today and it is what I hope to share with students and teachers across the globe, that they may find many powerful stories in their heritage that sustain them in the face of oppression or even in just feeling forgotten. 

I see you. You are not forgotten.

Cuba: De aqui, para alla...a week's journey with my teenage son

To educate is to give man the keys to the world, which are independence and love, and to give him strength to journey on his own, light of step, a spontaneous and free being

- Jose Marti

Hijita, when you arrive do not compare, just look and see what the revolution has brought. Experience the people, enjoy and accept them.

As we prepared for Cuba, these words from my father was the best advice we received. Never before had a trip stirred such controversy, as did our trip to Cuba. Albeit, it was under pretty fascinating circumstances:

• The U.S. just elected a new president after a pretty contentious campaign season
• We were leaving on inauguration day 
• My 17-year-old son and I co-wrote an academic paper and were presenting at an international conference
• Restrictions to Cuba had just been relaxed in over 60 years with the U.S.
• And it's Cuba...a socialist country able to sustain itself despite inciting ire in it's powerful neighbor 

The only billboards we saw in Cuba

What is it that brings on this ire? It is a question that many have tried to answer and understand in the larger discourse of politics and power, especially between Cuba and the United States. I was more interested in the discourse of the people we met, in the rhythm of the country and in their ability as a country to maintain such a strong sense of unity as a people, despite their long history of colonization by diverse Western powers.

Many people have asked about our impressions of Cuba since we have returned...there are many to be sure, but one feeling stands out above all else: Peace.

I read the world through the emotional window that opens in the center of my being, right above my belly button. I have always experienced the world as a deeply sentient being, connected to all things of the earth and very aware of my connection...I had a father who constantly reminded me of this tradition Tus antepasados viven en ti y estan conectados por Pachamama. So when asked about Cuba, how did I experience Cuba? Through this mystical portal that absorbs all energy in front of me; that's how!

My son and I on Trinidad's beach in Cuba

Our journey started in June when I asked my son to co-write an academic paper for this linguistic conference. He was surprised, but being a risk-taker and trusting in experiences that often unfold in front of him he accepted. He was in Mexico at that time spending a month with his grandfather and cousins. Amidst traveling through villages and towns in Mexico with limited wi-fi he co-wrote the paper with me on a shared google doc on his phone, while I was on the other end in the United States. We also used WhatsApp to share ideas and resources through recorded messages, articles we researched and notes we took. It was fabulous and we laughed often at the intensity of crossing ideas through time and space, hoping to meet our deadline with a finely tuned paper! We did, submitted it just before the midnight deadline and high-fived across international borders! 

Life continued at its rapid pace and between conference presentations, swift-blowing life experiences that often brought us to our knees and regular days of quiet hum, we heard a response two months later. Our paper was accepted and we were being invited to present in Cuba!! I love this story because it blows away all false dichotomies and belief systems that we must reach certain accomplishments before participating in the global discourse: Have a PhD, Be a published author, Have an expertise sanctioned by Western standards, even have a high school diploma. I'm a big believer in youth and the importance of hearing their voices now impact and participate in the global discourse - they have much to say and to offer new ideas untethered to political ideologies and allegiances. 

Horse drawn buggy and old cars on Cuban highway

When we finally landed in Cuba our first impressions...it doesn't differ much from other Latin American countries we have lived in and traveled through extensively. Many people expressed concern when we left that the poverty would impact us or shock us. Both my son and I felt it was similar to our travels through Mexico, Bolivia, Peru, Colombia, etc. none of which we feel are in dire circumstances. Our emotions ran strong in two directions: Transportation and People.

The transportation was the largest obstacle to hurdle, which brought the most adventure and submission of faith. When we landed in Habana we had to get across the island, a 16 hour travel by car - planes and buses all sold out. It was a true adventure as we bartered our way across the island from one taxi driver to another to finally a bus that could take us the rest of the way! 

70 cuc para los dos de Habana a Trinidad

140 cuc de Trinidad a Camaguey - es mucho - nadie va para Santiago de Cuba - pero no lo puede bajar - es que nadie va para ese lado, yo la llevo a medio camino

35 cuc en viazul de Camaguey para Santiago a las 4pm - yes!

The people...always the gift of any pueblo.

Stopping for gas!

First taxi driver - not a big Fidel fan. Che - nosotros lo Cubanos pensamos que es un adventurero...ni es Cubano! Si Cuba nunca nego a los Estado Unidos, ellos nos negaron. Pero eso si, hay que ver de todo lo bueno y lo malo en las cosas - Socialismo nos trajo excelente educacion y aseguranza medica...gratis, todo gratis! Y Trump...eso se va poner fuerte ahorita en Norte America. Nos queria Obama. Ahora, vamos a ver. 

Second taxi driver - A government run taxi, no position politically...just focused on principle - Es que mira, si yo soy tu vecino a mi que me importa lo que esta pasando adentro de tu casa. Tengo que ser decente contigo y tu conmigo y ya. Si al final, todos somos una sola gente...porque tenemos que pelear porque no te gusta como manejo mi casa? Debemos ayudarnos y cuando hay un desacuerdo, tratar de entendernos. Digan lo que digan de Cuba...nosotros si tenemos excelente educacion y cubierto medico!

Everyone seemed to agree - if nothing else, the revolution brought an excellent educational system that is tuition free, including the university and free, universal healthcare that is considered among the best in the world!

Fruit stand on side of highway

On the third day of our journey I noticed something...I felt a deep peace surrounding me, a calm. It was then I noticed I had not seen a single billboard announcing a new product I needed to buy, the latest car on the market, the biggest homes I can buy, the newest shoes I need, the body size I should have...there was not this blaring consumerism  we are bombarded with in the U. S. There were political slogans, even those were few and their messages general in nature of standing together as a people. This calm, was a welcomed surprise for me. 

Conference committee

Arriving in Santiago de Cuba, our home for the week at an Airbnb we secured from the United States we settled into a rhythm with the conference schedule and our own interests. After many communications through email we finally connected with our conference organizer - Leonel - he must be the epitome of the Cuban experience of people...he immediately reached out in a huge hug to both of us and said, Ymasumac y David, por fin, que alegria ya llegaron! Bienvenidos, que bueno ya estan aqui!  

Leonel introduced us to a wonderful doctor from Guantanamo who shared with us her work: a pioneer in understanding and treating alcoholism and addiction she has spoken internationally, including in the United States.

Dra. from Guantanamo

She said, yes, este es un pueblo where the child of a campesino can become a doctor for free, but there is still struggle. And with that she shared with us her struggles as a young Black Cuban pushing through stigmas and barriers coming from one of the poorest communities in Cuba to become a doctor. Life is about struggles and hard-won rewards, but all of them guided by an invisible hand of God - never despair! She then turned to Misak David and asked him to come back when he was in college and to learn with her over summer or winter break. 

We had a few days until we presented so we moved from one experience to another: workshops from this global learning community focusing on language and culture, nightly dancing with our conference fellows, Cuban poet Jose Marti and Fidel's gravesite, swimming in the warm Cuban ocean, food in homes where their backyards were converted into restaurants, old cars breaking down requiring a good ole' push by many willing bodies that were around - aqui todos somos Cubanos y todos nos ayudamos.

My son and I preparing to present our paper

The day of our presentation arrived, we were ready! We presented in Spanish and English on the courageous voices that are stressing the dominant culture in the United States using technology as a platform to amplify other ideas, creating impact and changing policy! Misak David spoke about Chance the Rapper and his use of technology and social media to push out his work as an artist. Eventually, through his constant stressing of the dominant culture of the Grammy's Chance the Rapper was able to push through their archaic policy that didn't allow for independent artists streaming on multiple free platforms to be eligible for a Grammy nomination. 

Misak David in discourse on Chance the Rapper

This domination of one voice and one view from the Western perspective is one that prevails...including in our preparations to Cuba. With a perception of poverty and oppression, many cautioned us to not be shocked by the conditions of Cuba. Our experience did not support this belief system at all - Cuba was a society that was thriving, changing dynamically, reflecting deeply on world issues as we all are and ever focused on developing an educated and healthy populace!

Our return was on a 16-hour ride back on a bus from hard-won tickets that took 3 hours of waiting in line and a bit of haggling to keep our position in line. More great conversation with Cubans who loved their way of life...nosotros pasamos el tiempo bien aqui, vamos a casa de un amigo y hacemos una parrillada y esa misma noche bailamos y gozamos...la vida es buena aqui y la educacion y el sistema medico gratis...no es asi en Norte America?

Art work by a local Cuban artist

Our final taxi driver to the airport was a true historical bible of the revolution whose grandparents fought in the revolution. He shared stories his grandparents told him: struggle is good for a people it keeps them strong and united, we may not have all the materialism that you have in the U.S. but we have espiritu y eso, eso es algo que les falta a los Estados Unidos...aqui todos somos Cubanos y todos, no importa el color, sabemos que el avanze depende de cada uno de nosotros ayudando el uno al otro...Norte America, todavia no sabe eso y eso es su debilidad.

Oye, y eso de Trump...'sta loco! Eso se va poner candela, eh. Se va poner caliente alli!

Cuban sunset

So what did I take away from my trip to Cuba...understanding the oneness of humanity it appears will not come without deep struggle for our people as a global nation...and for those of us in the United States, so long as we continue to measure everything to economic value and success, we will fall short of finding a lasting peace, because material goods and values are not permanent...it is like building a house on sand. 

You cannot legislate this kind of morality, we have to be willing to find it together. For a people, like the Cubans who have experienced such profound struggles to still have peace and joy...is a true measure of success...I for one, am willing to learn from them.