T.G.I.F.: Maurice Lim Miller & Family Independence Initiative

This morning I read an article in the New York Times about a unique program, the Family Independence Initiative, which is, in their own words:

"a national center for anti-poverty innovation that over this last decade has demonstrated that investing in people’s strengths and initiative delivers stronger, more sustainable and cost effective outcomes for working poor families."

As I read the article, a name recurred throughout--Maurice Lim Miller, the person credited for creating Family Independence Initiative, which began as a research project (inspired by then Oakland mayor, Jerry Brown) to make families be the drivers and leaders of figuring out the resources that they needed to get themselves out of poverty. The NY Times article and the website for FII describes their goals and process in detail -- but it was this description of Lim Miller that left me intrigued:

"Lim Miller, whose mother was an immigrant from Mexico who worked multiple jobs to support her children, had previously spent 22 years building Asian Neighborhood Design, a youth development and job training program, for which he was honored by President Clinton during the 1999 State of the Union address."

Intrigued by someone with a Mexican immigrant mother, the surname "Lim" embedded in his name, as well as his work with Asian Neighborhood Design, I decided to google Maurice Lim Miller, and this is what I found.



Maurice Lim Miller's parents (father, Chinese, mother, Mexican) crossed the Mexican border in the mid-1950s so that Miller could be born a U.S. citizen, and then they crossed back into Mexico. But at the age of 2, Lim Miller's parents had split, and his mother moved him and his older half-sister to Northern California. Insisting that Lim Miller got to college to get their family out of poverty, he received an Engineering degree from U.C. Berkeley, worked at Union Carbide, and then was drafted and was shipped off to Viet Nam. It was there that Lim Miller (who identified strongly as Mexican but who, because of his Asian features, was never fully accepted by the Chicano community) began to understand what it meant to be an Asian American:

“Being in Vietnam politicized me about being Asian,” he said.“I was pissed off all the time having to defend myself as an Asian.”

When he returned from Viet Nam he began working in political activist organizations in Chinatown and then got involved with Asian Neighborhood Design and eventually helped to develop Family Independence Initiative.

[If you want to read a full description of Lim Miller's life, google his name and find the pdf file for Asian Neighborhood Design's report]

For more on Lim Miller and FII, click on this link to hear an interview with Crosscurrents on KALW News and click here for the transcript of the interview with Holly Kernan.



Maurice Lim Miller literally personifies what it means to be a Mixed Race American. And Family Independence Initiative empowers families and individuals to make the best decisions for themselves--to be the drivers and leaders of their own success. And for that both are deserving of the T.G.I.F. award--because it is a truly Great and Impossible Feat to empower people to solve their own problems and to recognize that people who are living in impoverished circumstances aren't perennially marked by their poverty but, instead, can help one another find ways to strengthen themselves and each other.

T.G.I.F. -- a Mixed Race America

By now we have all heard about what unfolded in Tucson, AZ--the horror of the mass shooting, the grief and mourning, private and public. And we've also heard a lot of finger pointing--charges of amped up rhetoric, and irony of ironies, people who use amped up rhetoric as a defensive maneuver to say that they aren't using amped up rhetoric (we all know I'm talking about Sarah Palin here, right?).

I've thought a lot about what I wanted to write, with respect to the shootings in Tucson, the rhetoric that has emerged, the politics that are being played out. And then I watched the memorial service this past Wednesday, and I was really struck by the words of Daniel Hernandez, the 20-year old intern who is credited with helping to save Rep. Gabrielle Gifford's life. In his remarks at the memorial, which were amazingly poised and articulate given his relative youth, the size/scope of the venue, and the emotion of the service.

[I mean, can you imagine yourself at twenty standing in front of a podium facing 14,000 people, countless cameras, and with the President of the United States sitting front and center?]

Hernandez rejected, humbly and respectfully, the title of hero, instead calling the public/civil servants and first responders and medical staff of the hospital the real heroes in this event.

And what I was struck by, as they panned the crowd to show Rep. Gifford's surgeon, Dr. Peter Rhee, was how important a mixed-race America is to the cit of Tucson. Gifford's is Jewish. Hernandez is Latino. Rhee is Asian American. The six victims who died were Caucasian.

[Note: I'm assuming this based on their photos, but truthfully I don't know how any of them identified or whether some of them may have been Jewish or mixed race in ways that aren't apparent using only ocular evidence]

Arizona, as Sheriff Clarence Dupnik noted, has been a flashpoint for debates about immigration and ethnic studies--a state in which bigotry and prejudice have become so clearly institutionalized through anti-immigration measures (and rhetoric) and anti-Ethnic Studies measures. The not only tacit but clear white supremacist values that these measures promote make Arizona seem like it's this bastion of intolerance.

But then you have Daniel Hernandez. And you have Gabrielle Giffords. And the members of her synagogue. And you have Peter Rhee. All visions of a mixed race Arizona. A mixed race America. And thank goodness that we do.

I was going to give Daniel Hernandez the T.G.I.F. (The Great Impossible Feat Award) solo--because he certainly deserves it, despite what he says about not being a hero.

[Aside: He was one of the first responders on the scene--he was THE first responder, in fact, and while it's impossible to say for certain, I believe that had he not rushed to her aid immediately and had the presence of mind (and the skills of his nursing assistance class) to staunch her wound and keep her calm, then I don't think she'd be making the progress that she is currently making. He really is a remarkable young man--Time magazine did a piece on him (click here) and among the other things about Daniel that have not been reported on since it's not the most important things to note about him in light of his actions of the past week, is that he is a politically active, gay, Latino man. Yet these markers of identity--being politically active (he volunteered on the Clinton 2008 campaign and then for Gifford's re-election campaign after Clinton dropped out), being gay and being Latino are important for the world to recognize not only because it's part of who he is, but it's a reminder, in the midst of all the polemical debates about gay marriage, about queer rights, about Ethnic Studies and the importance of Chicano/Latino history in Arizona, that Daniel Hernandez's very existence is a refutation to the arguments of sealing borders and teaching white-washed and sanitized versions of history and not recognizing the rights of queer people everywhere.]

But I think since Daniel doesn't want to be singled out as a hero, that what we should be grateful for, what shouldn't seem impossible but sometimes is, is the fact that we live in a mixed race America.



Thank goodness we live in a mixed race America. Thank goodness for people like Daniel Hernandez. And thank goodness for organizations like Ben's Bells--a non-profit in Tucson whose message and purpose is to spread kindness to strangers. Click here on the link to find out more about what they do and watch this piece from the New York Times:

T.G.I.F. Joel Burns and the "It Gets Better" project

Well the midterm elections are over, and I suppose I could write about that--but I think I'd rather focus on the positives (or at least not get into a rambling post about the state of politics in this nation and what it may or may not reflect about the state of race/racism in this nation) and so let me turn to a different topic. Because it's Friday, and this blog is overdue for another

T.G.I.F.: The Great Impossible Feat award

So let me introduce you to Joel Burns. Many of you probably know about Mr. Burns and the video that went viral on YouTube of his thirteen minute address to the Ft. Worth City Council (where he serves as a member). Burns had been haunted by the rash of suicides by adolescents and young adults that were the result of bullying and/or a lack of support because of their sexual orientation (or in one case, perceived sexual orientation). Inspired by the "It Gets Better Project"--an on-line movement of celebrities and everyday people speaking directly into the camera and telling young people, specifically young queer teens, that life will get better--that suicide is not the answer to their current pain, Joel Burns used his time at the city council meeting to address the rash of suicides and share his own story about bullying and suicide with the people of Ft. Worth and as it turned out, the world:


[Joel Burns speaking to the Ft. Worth City Council]

The aftermath of Burns' speech is told by Burns to different news programs and talk shows, like CNN and The Ellen DeGeneres show:


[Joel Burns being interviewed on CNN]



[Joel Burns on The Ellen DeGeneres Show]

One of the things I was particularly struck by is the anecdote that Burns shared about one of the most poignant and remarkable stories that emerged after his video went viral. And that is the correspondence he has had with a friend of a gay Australian teen who had been contemplating suicide that very week--and after being shown Burns's video by his friend, he realized that there was hope and he didn't go through with his plan.

One person really can make a difference. And for that, Joel Burns, the "It Gets Better Project" and the many queer adolescents and teens who struggle with finding a place for themselves--who daily endure with taunts and threats--they all deserve a T.G.I.F. award.



Because sometimes just surviving is an incredible feat in itself.

[UPDATE: 12:21pm: I just saw this very moving 2-minute spot by Tim Gunn (of Project Runway Fame) where he shares his own story of failed suicide and gives a plug for The Trevor Project--which is this AMAZING website/resource/suicide hotline for GLBTQ people, especially for youth. So here's Tim Gunn's "It Gets Better" video below:]

T.G.I.F.: Jeremy Lin, potential future NBA draft pick

This really should NOT be a T.G.I.F. (The Great Impossible Feat). An Asian American playing Division I basketball. And yet, the number of Asian American sports figures who don't lace up skates is pretty small. [Aside: bonus points if you can actually name an Asian American skater aside from Michelle Kwan or Kristi Yamaguchi] Miniscule, in fact. And I do mean Asian AMERICAN--so you don't get to count Yao Ming or Hideo Nomo.

So let me introduce you to Jeremy Lin.



He is a senior Economics major at Harvard University, who grew up in Palo Alto, CA, the son of two Taiwanese immigrants who studied computer engineering (dad, Gie-Ming) and computer science (mom, Shirley) and is the co-leader of a campus bible study group. He also happens to be a point guard for the Crimson and is their best chance at a berth in the Big Dance (the NCAA Basketball championship), which the Harvard Crimson have not attended in 64 years. Most remarkably, according to Sports Illustrated, last season "Lin was the only player in the nation last season ranked in the top 10 of every major statistical category in his conference."

Why haven't we heard of this stellar athlete? I'd blame it on a combination of his league (the Ivy League is not known for producing teams that play in the Sweet Sixteen, let alone the Final Four) and, most significantly, his race.

What I also find remarkable about Lin's story is that two major magazines, Sports Illustrated and Time have described the rampant racism that Lin faces each time he plays. As this SI article reports, Lin

"encounters racism at virtually every game on the road, whether it's fans yelling "Chinese" gibberish (Lin is not fluent in Mandarin, for the record) or opponents using the most vile epithets that can be directed at Asians."

And this Time piece reports that

"[e]verywhere he plays, Lin is the target of cruel taunts. "It's everything you can imagine," he says. "Racial slurs, racial jokes, all having to do with being Asian." Even at the Ivy League gyms? "I've heard it at most of the Ivies if not all of them," he says. Lin is reluctant to mention the specific nature of such insults, but according to Harvard teammate Oliver McNally, another Ivy League player called him a C word that rhymes with ink during a game last season."


Let me be clear. I don't find the racism that Lin encounters remarkable. Sadly, it doesn't surprise me. What I find remarkable is that both mainstream magazines actually invoke the big "R"-- racism. OK, Time doesn't say racism but they do describe Lin as being the target of racial profiling and racial harassment, still a remarkable accounting since we KNOW mainstream magazines don't like to talk about racial discrimination--and it's even more shocking that they are discussing it within the context of Asian Americans, because we KNOW that racism against Asian Americans doesn't get a lot of press nationally.

For more on Lin, see this article in Hyphen magazine and this essay by ESPN.

But to get back to Lin and his accomplishment, the fact that he is a strong student AND a strong athlete, and poised to be the first Asian American to be a draft pick in the NBA is certainly worthy of a T.G.I.F. award. Good luck Jeremy Lin! I hope to be seeing the Crimson participate in March Madness this year.

T.G.I.F.: Soon-to-be Supreme Court Justice, Judge Sonia Sotomayor

In the 21st century it should not be such a great or impossible feat to have the highest judicial court in the land reflect the body of its citizens. Yet at this present moment, the U.S. Supreme Court has only a single female justice and a single non-white justice (hold the comments about Clarence Thomas's conservative politics and Uncle Tom slurs--he identifies as a black man and is a black man).

All of that is going to change shortly. Because yesterday Judge Sonia Sotomayor was confirmed 63-31 by the senate, and on Saturday she will be sworn in by Chief Justice Roberts as the nation's first Latina female judge.



Judge Sotomayor's credentials are impeccable. A graduate of Princeton (BA) and Yale (JD) universities, she has served the law for three decades. And, of course, by now everyone also knows her story--that she rose from a working class background out of the Bronx projects to the pinnacle of the legal profession.



It is, of course, not surprising that Obama's first chance at nominating someone to the Supreme Court would try to rectify the vision of America that is based in reality and not in a conservative, backwards view of the way "things were" or the way "things should be"--that with Sotomayor's confirmation, we inch one step closer to a vision of Mixed Race America that the Supreme Court should reflect and represent.



And surprisingly, one area we see this is within Sotomayor's family, particularly her two twin nephews, Conner and Cory (pictured above with Sotomayor at a baseball game). They were adopted from Korea to Sotomayor's brother, Juan and sister-in law, Tracey, and they have an older sister, Kiley. They have been introduced at various points in Sotomayor's march towards the Supreme Court, most notably during the start of her confirmation hearings.


[I can't blame them for falling asleep--the hearing really did drag on forever!]

One of the things I find interesting about Sotomayor's confirmation hearing is that there doesn't seem to be much made of her newphew's ethnicity or the fact that Juan Sotomayor and his wife adopted transracially as well as transnationally (at least not much made in the mainstream media). I wonder if this means that we are growing more accepting of families with adopted children and/or families whose racial and ethnic compositions are more visibly mixed.


[Judge Sotomayor speaking at the White House right after her nomination by President Obama]

At any rate, all of this seems like it deserves a T.G.I.F. award. Because while it seems so simple on the one hand, it has taken us, as a nation, so long to get here (and really, as far as gender is concerned, we are back to 1990s when Clinton appointed Ruth Bader Ginsburg to be the second female justice--the only thing we've really broken is a color barrier by having two non-white justices, and one a woman to boot), on the other hand, we, and especially Judge Sonia Sotomayor, certainly worked long and hard to get to this place.

T.G.I.F.: Helen Zia

I should begin this post by disclosing that I know the subject of today's T.G.I.F. (The Great Impossible Feat). But this is not why I've chosen to talk about Helen Zia today. Helen Zia is an Asian American activist par excellence. She most famously is tied to Vincent Chin--fighting for justice on his behalf. She was featured prominently in Christine Choy and Renee Tajima's excellent documentary Who Killed Vincent Chin? (by the way, if you haven't seen this documentary, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT, although truth be told, it will be hard to find outside of indie video rental shops or college/university libraries).



The first time I met her was when she came up to me after I delivered a conference paper on R. Kelly and The Matrix called "From R. Kelly to Keanu Reeves: Asian influences in American Pop Culture" (to be honest, I'm not sure if this is the exact title, but I know that the title had both R. Kelly and Keanu Reeves in the title, which made people scratch their heads since this was an academic conference). I saw her walk into the room and was pleased that she stayed for our panel and then shocked when she came up to me afterwards and asked for my card because she liked my paper! You have to understand: I am a total academic geek. So Helen Zia coming up to me at the end of a conference panel and telling me she wanted my card would be the equivalent of having George Clooney or Helen Mirren coming up to you and asking you for your autograph--you'd be speechless (and I nearly was).



So why was I so thrilled? Because I want to be Helen Zia when I grow up. Seriously. This woman was a community organizer in Detroit back in the day when we had no idea what a community organizer was. She was on the front lines of fighting for social justice in the Vincent Chin case, but has also continued to fight for social justice for many causes, like women's rights (she was an executive editor at Ms. Magazine), queer rights, Asian Americans falsely accused of espionage, like scientist Wen Ho Lee (she helped co-author Lee's My Country Versus Me), civil rights (she has testified to Congress about racial impacts in news media) and the connection between race and gender (which came about from her research on women who join neo-Nazi organizations). She is also clearly in support of gay marriages since she was featured on the cover of the New York Times as one of the first couples to be married to her long-time partner Lia Shigemura in 2008 when California, for a brief and shining moment, allowed gay marriage in the state (she and Lia also married in 2004 when Mayor Gavin Newsom allowed marriages to occur in SF City Hall).


[Helen and Lia at their 2008 wedding at SF City Hall]

Plus, she is the author of an incredible book: Asian American Dreams: The Emergence of an American People. I had the privilege of introducing Helen at a book reading at the latest American Literature Association conference.



When Helen talked about writing this book and finding a publisher for the book, she talked candidly about wanting to tell a story, private yet public, personal yet global, about Asian American experiences that reflected the reality of Asian American life, which means talking about queer Asian Americans and her own experiences as a lesbian and coming-out. And her book talks about gender, class, racism, and a host of other topics in an organic and empowering way.

Helen Zia continues to be a scholar and activist and journalist and a woman who wants others to be involved--like most recently with this video she did on behalf of AAPI Momentum encouraging APA people to get involved and volunteer the week of May 24-31 as part of AAPI Week of Service:


[Tip of the hat to Angry Asian Man]

Helen Zia inspires me to want to work on behalf of social justice issues; her dedication and devotion to multiple causes is admirable. Like I said, I want to be Helen Zia when I grow up. Which is why she gets the T.G.I.F. award for not just talking the talk but walking the walk of social justice as a life-long activist.




[REMEMBER: If you post a comment during the month of May (which is APA heritage month) you will be automatically entered to win one of five books donated by Hachette Book Group. Read the May 14 post (scroll to the bottom) to see the details of the books and how to win]

T.G.I.F.: Jimmy Carter

This is my 401st post, and given the recent Judeo-Christian holiday season we are in, I thought it might not be a bad time to re-introduce an MRA series: T.G.I.F.: The Great Incredible Feat (click here for the inaugural post). And the subject of today's T.G.I.F. is President Jimmy Carter (click here for a biography of the 39th president of the U.S.).


[This was a recent photo of President Carter, I believe taken earlier this year]

I have long been a fan of President Carter. Although I was in elementary school during his presidency and didn't really understand the nuances of the various troubles that plagued his administration or why the Camp David Accords with Menachem Begin and Anwar Sadat were so significant, Carter struck me as a man who stood by his convictions, no matter what the political fall-out.


[Jimmy Carter, Roslynn Carter, and their daughter Amy]

My impression of President Carter as an ethical and dare I say moral man was heightened in college when I took an intro to Poli Sci class and wrote my research paper on Jimmy Carter, a figure that both my TA and I agreed had been maligned by history and would, hopefully, one day be vindicated in the progressive measures his administration undertook--like creating a national energy plan that focuses on conservation and renewable, non-polluting energy sources and signing the clean air act (all things that now, in 2009, we take as a given). Almost everyone agrees that President Carter's work after his presidency has been exemplary and more impressive than the work done during his administration (although I think that people sell Carter short--especially in terms of his work in energy and foreign relations). Both Jimmy and Roslynn Carter's support and actual labor for Habitat for Humanity shows that this couple doesn't just do lip service: they actually sweat and work alongside people for causes they believe in. Which is also the message of the Carter Center, the president's institute for working on the world's problems of inequity, poverty, disease, and war, and, of course, his good works have been acknowledged with one of the world's most prestigious awards: the Nobel Prize for Peace (click here for Carter's eloquent acceptance speech).


[Jimmy and Rosslynn working on a habitat house]

And after watching Jonathan Demme's documentary Man from Plains, I was so moved by the humanitarian portrait of Jimmy Carter that I wrote him a letter this past September--here is an excerpt:

"I know you must get hundreds if not thousands of letters each year, and I realize that this letter may never actually reach your eyes (but I hope it does—whoever is reading this, it would be a great honor if President Carter could be handed this letter). Ever since I read your Nobel Prize acceptance speech to my class at Mount Holyoke College (I taught there as a visiting Assistant Professor before joining Southern University) I felt compelled to write to you to say that I have appreciated all the good works that you and your wife Rosalynn have done during your career in public service, and particularly after your term in the White House. Your life is an example of what we can achieve if we only recognize that we should try to live each day with compassion for others. I confess that I get mired in the minutiae of my daily life—I do not do enough to make the world a better place. But each time I encounter a reminder of your own works in this world, I am spurred to once again try harder—to live my life with compassion and care for others—to try to alleviate suffering in the world. I hope that the world, in whatever small way, will be better because I have lived in it. I know that this world is a much better place because of your dedication, hard work, strength of conviction, and kindness. Thank you for your work in human rights President Carter; thank you for being such a good person."

[This is President Carter in Nigeria, on a trip to promote ending guinea worm by promoting clean water practices as well as treatment]

A month later, to my utter amazement, I received back a photocopy of my letter with a message by President Carter written in the upper right-hand corner:

"To Jennifer: Thanks for your beautiful letter & your high ideals. Best Wishes, Jimmy C."

[I am 99% positive this is actually President Carter's handwriting--I held it up to the light and looked at the Carter Center website and it's definitely his signature so I think President Carter actually wrote to me!]


I have framed this letter and it has a prominent place in my office. I know people may disagree with my assessment of his administration, but I think everyone acknowledges that President Carter's humanitarian efforts post-presidency has been nothing short of incredible. And for that, President Jimmy Carter--and Rosslynn Carter, who is a true partner in every sense of the word--deserves a T.G.I.F.

T.G.I.F.: Fred Korematsu

In two days it will be December 7--the day that FDR said would always live in infamy after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. And I thought it would be a good opportunity to remind us all that while Pearl Harbor and the entry of the U.S. into WWII was a historic moment and a time when many Americans came together in national unity, it was also a time of racial hysteria that led to the unconstitutional incarceration of an entire race of people based on an irrational and unfounded fear that their enemy-alien race would lead to treason and disloyalty.

I am, of course, referring to the Japanese American Internment, a topic that I've blogged about in the past here and here.

The Japanese American internment was and is a matter of national shame. However, the redress and reparations movement that emerged in the decades that followed is a lesson in the greatness of America. One man crucial to that movement was Fred Korematsu.


[This is Fred back in the early '40s]

Fred Korematsu was one of four U.S. citizens who fought the U.S. government and had his case argued in front of the Supreme Court. He is one of three men whose cases were denied and thus he, along with Min Yasui and Gordon Hirabayashi, were approached, decades later, to have their cases taken up again--to try to correct the wrong that had been done when their cases were first argued in front of the Supreme Court.

A fantastic documentary, Of Civil Wrongs and Rights: The Fred Korematsu Story, documents Fred Korematsu's story. Here's an excerpt from the film's website:

Born in Oakland, California in 1919, Fred Korematsu is the son of Japanese immigrants. Until December 7, 1941, Korematsu had been living the life of a typical American man: he worked as welder in the San Francisco shipyards, owned a convertible and was very much in love with his girlfriend. However, as he was enjoying a picnic with his girlfriend on the eve of December 7, news of the Pearl Harbor attack started pouring out of his radio. Although he didn't know it at the time, Korematsu's life would never be the same again.

On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, which ordered the internment of all Japanese Americans. The Korematsu family was taken to Tanforan, a former racetrack south of San Francisco for processing. Korematsu decided to stay behind because he did not want to be separated from his Italian-American girlfriend.

Korematsu refused to relinquish his freedom and tried to remain unnoticed, to no avail. On May 30,1942, Korematsu was arrested and sent to join Tanforan. Later, all the detainees were transferred to the Topaz internment camp in Utah.

Persuaded by Ernest Besig, then Executive Director of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) of Northern California, Korematsu filed a case on June 12, 1942. The premise of the lawsuit was that Korematsu's constitutional rights had been violated and he had suffered racial discrimination. However, the court ruled against Korematsu and he was sentenced to 5 years probation. Determined to pursue his cause, Korematsu filed an appeal with Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals and, later, to the U.S. Supreme Court. However, in December 1944, the Supreme Court ruled against him, stating that Korematsu "was not excluded from the military area because of hostility to him or his race."

Years later, a legal team headed by Peter Irons and staffed by largely young and idealistic Asian American attorneys, uncovered evidence that

"clearly showed the government concealed evidence in the 1944 case that racism — not military necessity — motivated the internment order. More than 39 years after the fact, a federal judge reversed Fred Korematsu's conviction, acknowledging the "great wrong" done to him."

A quote from Fred Korematsu sums up a simple but powerful sentiment that we would all be wise to heed:

"If you have the feeling that something is wrong, don't be afraid to speak up." - Fred Korematsu


Fred passed away on March 31, 2005 at the age of 86. He will always be remembered for his courage to speak truth to power during a time of enormous social and global pressure to stay silent and not to question authority. His life truly is a lesson in the Great Impossible Feat.

T.G.I.F.: One Laptop Per Child

About a year ago I wrote a post called "Making a Difference--Part II" in which I talked about the XO laptop or as the program is called "One Laptop Per Child" or OLPC for short.

And I got a message from OLPC asking me to share this video by a girl in South Africa, Zimi:

One Laptop per Child : Zimi's Story FULL
Uploaded by olpcfoundation

I have to confess that I haven't played around with my xo laptop lately, although when I first got it, I would take it to cafes in my hometown and I got a lot of people asking about the laptop and it gave me a chance to talk about the OLPC program and to direct people to the website (click here).

And really, when you think about this concept--that this organization is making laptops for children--making them affordable and kid user-friendly and more importantly, making them in a way that people living in developing countries can actually use the laptop--providing solar power, hand cranks, and community support--all to allow kids to learn, to educate themselves, to have access to global technology, that is an astounding feat.

Which is why I believe the OLPC gets a T.G.I.F. award--because it is a great and impossible feat to have the imagination to give kids laptop computers in rural areas in developing countries.


Please consider going to Amazon.com and making a contribution. I know times are tight, but if you decide not to eat out once a month or you give up your starbucks coffee once a week, you can afford to change someone's life. And how often can you make that claim?

T.G.I.F.: Democracy in action

A few months back I started a sporadic Friday series called T.G.I.F.: The Great Impossible Feat award.

And it strikes me that this Friday of all Fridays deserves a T.G.I.F. But it's not for Barack Obama and his campaign, although his election this past Tuesday to become our 44th President of the United States on January 20, 2009 is, indeed, great and impossible. And I still feel choked up when I imagine this picture below as our First Family:


But the really Great and Impossible Feat is actually something we take for granted. That every four years, U.S. citizens who qualify to vote (age, felony record, mental competency, etc are potential barriers) are able to cast a ballot for the person they want to be their next President.


And during this election, people turned out in record numbers to vote. For the first time in a long time, people worked hard on behalf of the candidate of their choice--they CARED about WHO was elected. And even for those who didn't donate money or knock on doors or called people, they still did something that is really special: they voted.


[Look at these lines! When was the last time people lined up to vote like this? Or when was the last time record number of people showed up to vote early?]

People voted. And yes, the majority of American citizens voted for the candidate that I supported. And that makes me happy. But the thing is, this was a vote that was historic not just because it resulted in the election of our first visibly non-white, mixed-race, African American President--this was an election that also signaled that people COULD make a difference, that grassroots organizing DOES work, and that every vote COUNTS.


November 4, 2008 was democracy in action. It was historic. It was awe inspiring. And it was simple. People showed up to vote.


And THAT is the Great, Impossible Feat.

Re: T.G.I.F.: Barack Obama & Politics

I've been glued to C-SPAN and the commentaries on CNN and MSNBC all week. I've been blogging all week about the Democratic National Convention in Denver. I've been anxious about the speeches and how things would unfold with Hillary Clinton and her supporters, Bill Clinton's remarks, the roll call, Joe Biden's speech, and then finally the culmination of Barack Obama's acceptance speech at Invesco field.

And last night Obama gave a speech that was a rhetorical tour-de-force.


He spoke to over 75,000 people in the stadium and millions upon millions around not only the U.S. but around the world. And what dawned on me as I once again had tears in my eyes, was how incredible it was for Obama, his family, his supporters, the Democratic party, and OUR NATION to get to this point.

THIS is The Great Impossible Feat. What is "THIS"? There's so many things in "THIS":

*Obama's rise from delivering a rousing and inspiring speech at the 2004 DNC where he hadn't yet even been elected to the U.S. senate to four years later accepting the nomination for president in 2008.

*Obama's background: his mixed-race background, his working-class background, his childhood in Hawaii and Indonesia, his extended family in the U.S. and in Kenya (and around the globe), and the choices he has made in his professional and personal life.

*Obama as our first non-white, first African American candidate for a major party. Again, in terms of "history," 45 years ago people marched on Washington to shed light on the need for Civil Rights. Segregation and institutional racism was rampant. The idea that we would have an African American president was something found in Science Fiction and not The New York Times. The idea that the image below would and in fact *COULD* be our first family was unfathomable. And yet...45 years later, here they are:


*Finally, what "THIS" is, is a sea change. It's large numbers of people, mass numbers of people, getting involved in politics FOR THE FIRST TIME. On a personal note, for the first time I got involved in a presidential race in my own very small, very minor way, by knocking on doors and registering people to vote. Others have been much more active and vocal than I have, but what we all share is a desire to get involved in the political process because we are inspired to do so. Whether that inspiration comes out of fear and anxiety that we do NOT want more Republican mis-leadership or whether it's from the inspiration of Barack Obama and his platform, the simple truth is that people are TRYING to make a DIFFERENCE this election. People are getting involved and showing up and doing something as basic as registering people to vote and talking candidly and with conviction about why they are supporting Obama and why we want to take the country in a direction that is positive and progressive.


And THIS is T.G.I.F.: The Great Impossible Feat. That people are trying to make a difference, are taking seriously the rhetoric that what is supposed to make our country "great," that distinguishes our government as a "democracy" from other forms of government, is that people, average citizens, can take part in the election process. Even if it is as simple as casting a ballot. But sometimes it's the simplest acts that are also the greatest ones.

T.G.I.F.: Living a good life--lessons of Randy Pausch

When I started this series, I thought it might be a sporadic event--occasional Fridays I'd try to acknowledge an organization or individual who was doing something remarkable--hence T.G.I.F.: The Great Impossible Feat.

Of course for the last four Fridays I seem to have found something to write about that I thought was a T.G.I.F. And last week Friday, when I was writing about Berea college, I probably should have acknowledged the passing of Randy Pausch, a professor of computer science at Carnegie Mellon university.


The facts of Randy Pausch's life aren't really that remarkable or exceptional. He was born into a working-class, middle-class family, he earned degrees from Brown University and Carnegie Mellon and was mentored by extraordinary people who took time to encourage and help him. He got a job at University of Virginia and then was hired by his alma mater, where he discovered he had pancreatic cancer (one of the worst forms of cancer you can get). He spent the remaining time he had with his family and died at the age of 47 leaving behind a wife and three young children.

I'm sure many of us know of someone whose profile closely fits that of Randy Pausch. But what is remarkable about Pausch is that he's a teacher--a really good one with a lot of natural talent and charisma, and he gained national attention when The Wall Street Journal reporter Jeffrey Zaslow wrote about a lecture that Pausch gave to a standing-room-only audience at Carnegie Mellon titled "Journeys" but that had previously been named "Last Lecture"--the premise being that professors would impart words of wisdom as if this was their very last lecture on earth--as if they knew they were going to die.

In Pausch's case, it was true. In September 2007 when he gave the lecture, his doctors gave him 3-4 months to live (he defied their odds by about 6 months). He was literally dying, and he gave a lecture that was, in my opinion, truly remarkable.

Because he focused on the lessons he had learned in life--thanking the many people in his life who helped him to achieve his goals and dreams--and dealing with the many obstacles he faced with humor and as teaching tools rather than moments of failure or defeat.

I read about Pausch's death in The New York Times last week and then I clicked on the video link and spent an hour being amazed by his rhetorical skills, his charisma, his natural teaching ability. But most of all, amazed that he had accomplished something so simple that it really is a Great Impossible Feat: he lived a good life and appreciated that fact.


Of course, maybe what got to me about Randy Pausch was that he was a teacher (and as a fellow teacher I'm always over-identified with others in this profession) and that he left this last lecture for his kids--and the audience and rest of the world who watched the video were an afterthought. Still, it made me think, profoundly, about how I want to approach my own last days, whenever they come. I hope I am able to do it with as much grace and humor and humility and appreciation as Randy Pausch. And for that, I think Professor Pausch has achieved a Great Impossible Feat.

[To read Jeffrey Zaslow's remembrances of Pausch and to see a video by The Wall Street Journal remembering Pausch, click here]

T.G.I.F.: The Great, Impossible Feat award

It's Friday--the end of a work week, the beginning of the week's end. And I thought I'd start yet another sporadic on-going series: T.G.I.F.: The Great, Impossible Feat award.


[T.G.I.F.--look how happy I am--this is, of course, not what I *really* look like, although aside from the fact that this figure has no nose, it's not a bad cartoon replica of what I might have looked like as a kid. By the way, I have to thank my British cousin "J" for sending an email message with this image]

The first recipient of Mixed Race America's T.G.I.F. award is the Church of the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York City.


I first learned about the Church of the Holy Apostles while reading Ian Frazier's New Yorker article, "Hungry Minds: Tales from a Chelsea Soup Kitchen." I was immediately drawn in to the world of HASK (Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen), the guests who find their way to the daily weekday lunch that the volunteers of HASK serve, and the history of the Holy Apostles Church.

Here is a description I found by the NYC chapter of AGO (American Guild of Organists) of the church:

The prominent octagonal spire of the Church of the Holy Apostles is a welcoming landmark among the industrial buildings and red brick towers in the far western blocks of Chelsea. Reputedly a stop on the Underground Railroad, the church has continued its embrace of the unwelcome by starting a soup kitchen in 1982, now the largest in New York City, which serves up to 1000 meals each weekday to the homeless and downtrodden. In 1973, the socially-active and diverse congregation helped establish Congregation Beth Simchat Torah, a gay and lesbian synagogue which still uses Holy Apostles for its Friday evening service. In 1977, the first woman priest in the New York diocese was ordained at Holy Apostles. The Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, the first openly gay priest to be consecrated as a bishop of the Episcopal Church, celebrated and preached on Gay Pride Sunday 2005.

The Holy Apostles Church is a space that is truly diverse and literally practices what it preaches (and perhaps, in its case, preaches what it practices). So my hat is off to HASK and the Church of the Holy Apostles. And for anyone who wants to really do good work with that incentive check that the government just gave out, you may want to consider going to the HASK website and giving a little bit to an organization that gives so much to so many people. Or just take a moment and look in your kitchen and see if you have something to drop off to your local food pantry.

It is truly a Great, Impossible Feat to provide 1,000 people a midday meal five days of the week and to have done so for over two decades and to have done so with nothing more than the good works and iron will of dedicated volunteers and church leaders.