If a room is full of service people who are they serving?

It's a classic dilemma when you get a bunch of service minded individuals together, which I noticed again on a Wed night. After an hr of meditation and an hr of discussion we eat dinner. Immediately when the dinner transition occurs there is a rush to the kitchen to help, a rush to set up the dining area, and then after dinner there is a rush to do the dishes. There is some fun and playfulness in the jostling back and forth for the opportunity to do the dishes, but this time as I watched the scene play out it made me think about this dilemma. When everyone wants to help/serve then who is there left to serve? In the office when there is a cake and they start passing around the slices on plates inevitably the plates make a full circle. In the cake scenario no one wants to be the one to "stop" the flow. Don't get me wrong I think service and selflessness is important, but it is just as important to be the recipient of the acts. With Karma Kitchen one of the things that is stressed in the very beginning is that before serving all volunteers should be guests to experience the true essence of the restaurant. I also think that the real meaning and intent of some of these acts gets lost in the jockeying for a role. It also makes me wonder about the person who isn't forward and aggressive about helping. Should they be denied an opportunity to serve if they aren't able to hold their own against someone like myself?

The de-Evolution of Video

On the plane returning from my recent vacation I saw a documentary on The Beatles.  The documentary while lacking the music of The Beatles (likely due to the high cost of acquiring the rights to Beatles songs) had plenty of video footage showing The Beatles many live performances on television.  Last night I was watching some episodes of VH1 Storytellers, which had live performances by Kanye, Jay-Z, and Mary J Blige.  The de-evolution of the live music performance on video was very apparent to me as I contrasted these performances.  The Beatles performances were often one (at the most two) camera angles and there was minimal editing as the camera looked directly at the band.  The band likely was told they can't move around much, because they had to stay in the frame.  Contrast that with modern performances where the artist paces, jumps, skips, and dances all around the stage enjoying the freedom of a completely wireless system.  That isn't the distracting part though, because I think even with an artist moving around like a grasshopper two cameras would still manage fine (one from far and zoomed in).  Unfortunately that was not how these performances were filmed.  They had no fewer than three cameras each panning and zooming as often as the artist moved.  Even worse was the quick edits.  I would guess that no more than 30 seconds elapsed before a cut to a different angle.  This frentic pacing made it difficult to really watch the artist and enjoy what is most interesting about live performances on video.  I think this argument has been made before, but I'll make it again and blame this de-evolution on MTV.  I think MTV pioneered this kind of rapid cut editing, which as I recall when it first came out gave the performance a more edgy feel.  Now it just seems dated and trying too hard. 

Lessons from the Point #4

After taking the summer off from tutoring, because there was no one to tutor I was back for my first day earlier this week.  I was excited to be back and the kids remembered me, asked where I was all summer, and asked what I was up to.  During my 'vacation' I forgot what it was like to see/hear what these kids go through, experience, and live.  That all came back to me real fast on my second day back.

I was helping a third grader with his homework, teaching him what multiplication is (that's a story in itself), when a lady walked in.  She seemed somewhat loopy, but I thought nothing of it since I didn't know her (and in California I have met plenty of loopy people).  She kept telling lady who runs the Homework Room that she just needed her to look after her kids a little bit.  She brought in 3-4 kids none older than third grade.  After she left the HW room organizer approached me and told me how upset it made her when people do that.  "Do what?" I asked.  Her response in complete bewilderment told me all I needed to know.  "You didn't realize?  She was high out of her mind."  I should clarify that when I say high I'm not referring to marijuana, but hard drugs.  The parents and addicts that come through the Point are addicts and recovering addicts of heroin or crack most of the time.  It didn't even occur to me that she was high, because as I said I had never met her before so as far as I could tell that was how she was normally. 

That evening after all the kids had left the organizer asked me what I thought of teaching "addicted kids" (kids who were born addicted to hard drugs b/c of their mother's addictions).  I told her I didn't know, because I wasn't aware I had any experience with it.  It seems that all of the kids I worked with that day were children of addicts and were born addicted to drugs.  The most telling sign was that I would go over something repeatedly, but it didn't seem to stick.  I'm not talking about complicated concepts, but simple multiplication using physical representation. 

Knowing three couples who are all expecting it is very difficult to be at the Point and see the other extreme of parenting.  The three couples that we know are all wonderful people and will make amazing parents.  It makes me sad to see the innocent victims of such careless and wanton disregard for life.  No one can stop someone if they don't want to take care of themselves, but why drag someone so innocent and helpless down at the same time?

The unspoken language

A few months ago I opened the building door (that was slightly ajar) and let it slam shut behind me as I went out to run an errand.  When I returned I noticed an older grandfather that lives on our floor with his wife, son, and daughter in law milling about outside our building.  This grandfather seems to be of Arabic descent based on his clothes and appearance, but does not speak English.  Through a series of gestures I realized that the building door was left ajar by Gramps so he could let himself back in and I had left him stuck outside.  He didn't seem the least bit concerned and after I let him in he graciously patted me on the back, thanking me. 

After that incident I occasionally would pass Gramps in the hall and he would smile and nod his head ever so slightly.  The other night the HyWy and I were coming in the building and he was right behind us.  As the three of us entered the elevator we all exchanged smiles and this being the HyWy's first interaction she didn't really know about the language barrier so she instinctively asked how he was doing.  As a sidenote it is worth mentioning that the HyWy loves grandparents especially ones that remind her of her own grandparents (ie foreign, not necessarily fluent in English, etc.).  Back in the elevator Gramps looked at both of us and smiled.  He pointed at me then at the HyWy as if asking whether we were married.  We both nodded our heads in confirmation.  Then he looked at the HyWy, gave a subtle smile, one thumb up, and looked at me obviously telling me what a wonderful wife I have found:).  Then out of nowhere he reached out and gave me a hug.  I was completely surprised beaming with an ear to ear smile. 

Through both interactions the thing that stands out in my mind is while Gramps' smile was subtle his eyes spoke volumes.  He also speaks through gestures, back pats, and other non verbal means.  All this was summed up eloquently and simply by the HyWy's statement when we entered the apartment, which also led to the post's title...the unspoken language is so beautiful and powerful. 

Security vs. Personal Dignity

In the past people have asked my thoughts on racial profiling particularly at airports in the wake of 9/11. I'm pretty sure I have been profiled on several occasions and it never really bothered me. My view was always to the effect of: if profiling helps prevent even one terrorist act then I'm willing to be subjected to it (after all what difference does it make if I have nothing to hide...besides a little inconvenience).

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Friday on my return from vacation during a layover in Toronto I seriously reconsidered my above position and statement. After going through a relatively smooth arrival in Toronto, baggage claim, customs, immigration, and baggage recheck I was to go back through security prior to my next flight. While my stuff was waiting on the conveyor to go through the scanner a young security guy (younger than me for sure) informed me I was "randomly" selected for further screening and made a note of it on some tracking sheet (presumably there is a quota on the number of "randoms" required per hour/day). I understand that I was wearing baggy jeans and sporting a pretty overgrown beard (my razor went home with the HyWy on a different flight...doh!), but interestingly there was a gentleman in front of me receiving the "special" treatment who was a clean cut business type. The similarity between both of us was that he was of a beige skin tone and I would classify myself as brown (or caramel:). Anyways once through the metal detector with my boarding pass securely in the security personnel's possession I was asked to step to one side where I was wanded. After the wanding I was frisked completely two times and so thorougly that in my mind I was only one step away from a strip search. During the frisking the inside of my pants waistband was checked and my wallet/passport rummaged through. Once this was complete my entire backpack was searched. All books were flipped through, the HyWy's spices were given a cursory look, and all the little pockets of my backpack emptied. Naturally the security guy was reasonably polite and attempted to repack everything. However, I couldn't help but feel humiliated through this. I wasn't humiliated because other people around me could see what I was going through, but rather because it occurred to me that the security personnel had total power in this situation. I knew that I could not express any frustration, anger, or negative emotion as they had me by the boarding pass. Finally the process ended and I was sent on my way.

The first thing I thought about as I walked off, fuming, was is there a better way to find the "bad" guys? Do other non brown/beige/caramel individuals experience things like this? Would I feel different if I found out that the profiling in my situation led to someone else on my flight being profiled and found with contraband and thus an incident was averted? My hesitation in answering the last question, to myself, tells me a lot.