The Quail, Eagle, and Hummingbird

Most of my best thinking happens hiking the trail as I pound out miles under my boots. I'm hoping this is true of the past few days as well but, as usual with new thoughts, I will have to wait to see what happens. My husband and I have been searching for a solution regarding a current challenge: we move on Friday but don't exactly know where to move to. Sometimes I can become anxious when I find myself in these scenarios because I like to plan a few weeks out (and perhaps live a few weeks out, too, but I'd rather not talk about that). Increased effort to solve a worry-soaked problem usually happens when I've let myself slide outside the sweet spot of trust in the Good Someone who promises to take care of me. A really experienced and wise man once said that we should look at the birds of the air and see how God takes care of them and that this should inspire us not to worry about tomorrow. 

This past weekend I had the joy of watching three quite unique birds of the air: the California Quail, the Bald Eagle, and the Black-chinned Hummingbird.

The California Quail

Running across the grass, a small pair of California Quail took flight in front of me from short, stubby legs. They were on a mission! My first thought was "adorable".

In doing a bit of research on this bird, I found out that the California Quail is highly social and often get together in groups called "coveys" of 10-200 birds. Males mate with only one female and both parents care for their babies. They like to take dust baths, forage for seed and grass on the ground, and "flush" into flight with a short burst of energy when startled. 


The Bald Eagle

Hovering in flight over the lake, I also got to watch a Bald Eagle go fishing. My first thought was "powerful".

Bald Eagles are carnivores and eat just about anything, but have a special hankering for fish. They can fly at speeds up to 43 miles per hour (70 km per hour) and don't normally like humans, preferring to stay above it all with just one other eagle mate for life. They can migrate, but tend to stick close to home, especially if they've found a great lake and winds to soar on. 


The Black-chinned Hummingbird

Hovering right next to my face, a hummingbird seemed to meet my eye before darting off into the forest. My first thought was "amazing".

Hummingbirds feed on nectar, are migratory, and can go into a hibernation state where they only use 1/15 of their normal energy. While in flight, their heart rate can reach 1,260 beats per minute. They can fly forward at speeds over 34 mph (54 km per hour) and are the only bird that can fly backwards. Their brains are larger in comparison to their body size than any other bird and they like to be alone.

Sometimes people act as if their own life stories and experiences should be indicative of yours. Honestly, I find this to be extremely irksome. I think it's important to share and celebrate each other's stories, but not to assume that all life narratives should or will look the same. As we look at the birds of the air and learn from how God provides for them, I am reminded that we can't expect the way that God provides for one to be the same provision for another. After all, we all have different flight patterns, lifestyles, and daily needs. One of us may feed on seeds, another on fish, and another on nectar. One of us may need lots of people around, another a single life companion, and still another to go it alone. Some like to migrate, constantly on the move, and others to stay in one place, rooted to what they know and love. Diversity found in the birds of the air astounds me; God's diverse ways of providing for humans is no less astounding.

What will be God's way of providing for me this Friday? Who can tell.
But will God do it? Just look at the birds of the air.

Cookie Monster in the Principal's Office

The last two days marked a momentous occasion in my high school experience stash: entrance into a principal's office. And not just one, but two principals' offices!

I was one of "those" kids in high school. The ones that never really got into serious trouble - enough to be sent to the principal's office, anyway. I don't think this was solely driven by good, or even healthy, motives. Actually, I think a lot of it was driven by overwhelming shyness and the fear of having to engage with adults in what to me seemed a severely stressful environment. I vaguely remember goofing off a few times with some smack-down by teachers and thinking: "Please, oh please, don't send me to the Principal's office!" As a result of all this, I was never privy to the inside of a principal's office - just their mini-blinds. Until yesterday. And today.

My F-bomb dropping student has let the proverbial s*** hit the fan in several classes. In fact, I have sworn more in the past 2 weeks, voicing this student's signing, than I have in the last 30 years combined. Thank you Student X, for this unique life experience. But I digress.

Yesterday, I found myself in an interpreter's nightmare: a meeting that involved me as an interpreter and then spontaneously being asked, as an adult staff member, questions during the conversation. PLEASE - if you ever use a sign language interpreter - do NOT talk to them or ask them questions during the communication event. It's just messy. Our brains are not in "engage in the conversation" mode; they're in "switch grammar and vocabulary between the two languages to make each person's message be as accurate and natural as possible" mode. A lot of interpreters don't really remember exactly what was said during the communication event that they are interpreting - all their attention is caught up in the interpreting process. I happen to be one of those kind of interpreters. Perhaps I'm a bit like Cookie Monster:

1. Message comes in and is chewed
2. Message comes out in another form, generally more messy than it went in but hopefully retaining its primary ingredients
3. A few crumbs of the conversation are left stuck in mouth and on chin and arms

Anyway, back to the principals' offices. They are NOTHING like I expected. No harsh words. No stern lecturing. Instead, body posturing and vocal intonation is welcoming and builds camaraderie. A listening ear and understanding, regardless of the accusations being made by the student in the face of what the teacher has said, is offered and encouraged. Unless something is stated against what is in the student policy manual, students are not to be interrupted or contradicted. It was mind-boggling. Those two meetings were without a doubt the most peaceful interpreting experiences I've had with this student since arriving. And it makes me want to beg all the teachers: Please, oh please, send me to the principal's office tomorrow too! The principals' cookies are the best!

Ten Influential Books

On a 3.5 hour drive through sage filled landscape, my husband and I whiled away a few hours by deciding the top 10 books either most influential or most representative of our lives. Here are the 10 that I came up with, in no particular order.

1. The Last Battle - C.S. Lewis
Like the Narnia book where Aslan tells Lucy that He hasn't gotten bigger, she has gotten older, "The Last Battle" has grown increasingly meaningful for me with age. One of the things I love most about this book is how Emeth, who did not know Aslan, is allowed into Aslan's Country where he grows to know him. As Aslan said to Emeth: "Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek..." I love this.

2. James - James
As a follower of Jesus, the Bible is my Sacred Text and there are many of its books that have been very influential at various times of life. James, however, has always captured my heart as being the book that encourages me that faith is more than just believing and should always have feet.

3. Why Not Women: A Biblical Study of Women in Missions, Ministry, and Leadership - Loren Cunningham,  D.J. Hamilton, and J. Rogers
After wrestling through how my faith and sex intersects, this book is the book I wish I would have written, most loved reading on the subject, and wish every Christian would read.

4. Borderlands: The New Mestiza = La Frontera - Gloria Anzaldua
Having grown up in the borderlands myself and having chosen work and life that continues to occupy borderland spaces (although of a different kind than what she describes for herself), this book gave me words and led to greater understanding of how these experiences helped shape my identity.

5. A Generous Orthodoxy - Brian McLaren
After often feeling alone in my theological musings, this book finally offered another person's written words to my own heart's whisperings. It also sent me down a new road of reading and theological pondering within the emergent conversation that is helping define my current Christian understanding.

6. Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation - Parker Palmer
After first reading this book in university, I was inspired to make sure I read it again every few years. It offers just the reminder that I need every time I find myself at one of life's many crossroads.

7. God at War - Gregory Boyd
Greg opened a whole new way of seeing an all-powerful God who is fighting to make this world the place of beauty that it's intended to be, and calls us to value the sacredness of life at all times. He introduced me to a new perspective of what it could mean for God to lovingly allow created beings to have individual choice and be so powerful that He can respond to those choices and work it for good. That perspective brought a new level of freedom to my faith journey.

8. The Walking Drum - Louis L'Amour
I loved this book as a kid (and still do as an adult). The adventure of Mathurin's world travel and quest combined with the importance of intellectual and cultural smarts for survival - awesome!

9. Trauma Stewardship: An Everday Guide to Caring for Self While Caring for Others - Laura van Dernoot Lipsky
While overwhelmed by broad societal needs and my own limitations in meeting the specific examples of these needs inundating me daily, I experienced well-meaning people I shared with trying to "fix" me by  suggesting additional things for me to do and be. Instead of feeling supported, they simply furthered feelings of isolation and loss. This book arrived just in time. With humor and practicality, it normalized my experiences in the wider context of service-oriented vocations and helped me understand the reality and impact of vicarious trauma.

10. The Encyclopedia of the Dog
I have spent more time over the last three decades researching dog breeds and all their traits than most could imagine! I still have an unnatural obsession with dog adoption websites and wishing I could adopt and foster more dogs than I should. Viva Canines!

How about you?
Any favorite, influential, and/or representative books that you recommend?

Bus on Babs

When the clocks reads 6:41 in the kitchen and 6:44 in the bedroom, I know it's time to bust out the back door and walk the 2 blocks to the bus stop on Babs Avenue. On the way, I get to experience a cornucopia of animals - a veritable zoo! As I walk down the back path, there's a dozen chickens, a couple goats, and one very large turkey on the other side of the wire fence. Across the street there are 3 albino rabbits that are often hopping around the yard. A peacock often cries "Help! Help!" (as only a peacock can), but I'm not sure where it lives. Perhaps that's why it's crying, too. Around the corner to the left, three horses are lying down or staring me down. On the right, a few cattle graze while a Great Pyrenees family plays all around them. The size isn't what differentiates the two - it's the color and the energy! The Pyrenees used to have some adorable puppies...but they disappeared this week and must have found new homes. The four older Pyrenees looked a little sad today and I wanted to give them pats on the head, but instead obeyed the posted sign: "Do not pet the dogs".

My husband and our dog sometimes walk and wait with me to get on the 170. While I'm driving away, I get to watch their backs as they mosey toward the house. I love it when my husband walks me to the bus on Babs. If you get the chance to walk someone you love to the bus station, I recommend you do it even if you don't have to. You may not see and hear a zoo, but I bet there are other little things to appreciate together. And some little things feel much bigger than you'd ever think they would, especially when shared.

Interpreting the F-bomb

For the second time in my 10+ years of interpreting, I was honor bound to voice the F-bomb from ASL into English during a class today. Because of the particular sign the student chose, there was no way of "softening" it; and because the student was so incredibly deliberate, no way around voicing it. I really don't swear that often, so to me this is an event of note.

I have long gotten over any moral quandary that I am responsible for the words coming out of my mouth when interpreting the ideas of my clients, including the young ones. It's not my identity, it's someone else's being communicated through me. I think the words we use are given meaning by the intent of the speaker, the intent of the listener(s), and the context in which it is being communicated. As an interpreter, I'm a part of the context, but not one of the main players. Still, when working with someone that is consistently pushing boundaries and being rude to teachers, staff, and myself, it just leaves me with this rather horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and ache at the base of my cranium. I'm just not wired to be rude and move on without thinking about the consequences. And, when taking on the vocal affect and verbal expressions of rudeness for hours each day, I'm exhausted. In actuality, this is a situation when free-lancing where I would simply put their name on the black-list...the list of people with whom I would refuse interpreting gigs. But this situation is different.

I know that this student has a hard life, although I don't know just how hard. And that this student has had a hard year, although not sure how hard. They need to be loved because of their insurpassable worth. So I pray that when my amount of love runs out for this particular student (usually about half-way through 3rd period), God's will just flow through me like a rushing river and leave a little extra refreshment on the way through.

What I hate most about the interpreting role is feeling powerless to do much of anything since I'm just the communication messenger. I love to advocate, to teach, to be part of effecting change. During the interpreting process, those roles feel practically non-existent. I don't deny the importance of the interpreter role; I'm just being reminded that this particular work is not what makes my heart sing.

Room 3 Guy

We're living in a temporary rental place right now with 2 other renters and our dog. The quietest being in the house is the dog. Quiet, if you don't count scratching, excessive killing of his squeaky toy, and deep sighs of content and discontent, depending on whether supper, walks, and head massages have recently occurred. The loudest is the guy who stays in room 3.

Room 3 Guy likes to take over the shared living space as soon as he comes home. And I do mean take over. If someone is talking, don't you worry...he can whistle his way right into the living room, conversation, and any topic going. Room 3 Guy is on the larger size so if he walks through some of the smaller spaces, you'll need to move so he can fit. Room 3 Guy puts his laptop on the kitchen table, turns the TV on to his preferred channel, and starts a blackjack game on the house computer in the living room. This leaves 3 rooms left in the house unoccupied: Rooms 1 and 2, and the bathroom. But sometimes Room 3 Guy has to go to the bathroom...at that point, only 2 rooms: our room and Room 2 Guy's.

Most importantly, though, when discussing shared space: Room 3 Guy is a talker. My husband says I have "one of those faces" that people spill their guts to...but the point is, I don't think people who have the illness which I refer to as verbal diarrhea realize that constant talking is like smoking. The only people who actually enjoy the sound of it are other people who share the habit. The others, if they are anything like me (which is undoubtedly arrogant to think), are quickly looking for a breath of fresh air.

Room 3 Guy has a laugh like Santa Clause. Except, instead of "ho ho ho" it's "heh heh heh". On our walk last night to the park with the quiet being in the house, my husband and I talked about this laugh. Why and when did he use it - should it be taken as actual mirth or some other signal? It appears that this laugh occurs most frequently when he is talking about something uncomfortable, entering a room without knowing who'll be there, doing something he doesn't enjoy, or wanting to soften something he says...sort of like adding "Bless their heart" to the end of a sentence. I know I have at least a couple different laughs myself, and those who know me well just roll their eyes at the fake one but accept it as the gift of appreciation that I'm intending! I think if Room 3 Guy would really laugh, it would have no word endings. In fact I know it; I heard him laughing while sitting at the shared computer, at a joke on the TV, while I was eating in Room 1, because his laptop was on the kitchen table.

But I don't actually mind.
I adore Room 1...heh heh heh.
And I really do love hearing people laugh!

30 minutes on a track

During the past 2 weeks, I've been reintroduced to the world of secondary schools by working as a sign language interpreter and assistant (each role at various points in the day). During the course of 7 hours each day, I have the opportunity to watch teachers, students, interpreters, security personnel, office managers, school psychologists, counselors, and principals. It's not intentional, really, but I can't help but observe the various persona that people want to project in various contexts, to various people.You want to see identity negotiation in constant flux? Just step into a high school.

Today I spent about 30 minutes on an artificial turf watching high schoolers run and walk around an asphalt track in P.E. class. Students were supposed to do laps, alternating between walking the curves and running the straight-aways. A few things I noticed:

• If groups of students clump together, they'll be going slower than they could otherwise be going. Apparently underachieving is a well-developed high school value.
• Students who run alone often enter the class and the locker room alone. There's either a price to pay on the popularity chart for achieving (let alone overachieving) or those who are alone tend to achieve.
• Boys stare at girls' butts when running. Girls stare at boys' butts when running. Let's not pretend a single gender holds a trump card on raging high school hormones.
• Most P.E. talk seems to revolve around 3 topics: 

1. How much they hate P.E. 
2. When class will be over.
3. Members of the opposite sex.

• Students who run well past the line in front of the teacher usually glance over and grin, expecting some sort of congratulations. Never mind the fact that the teacher saw them slack on the other side. Most people think more about what they want people to see them do than what others actually see them do.
• If teachers make the effort to speak to students who consistently walk or run by with their head down, they should listen closely. A quietly murmured thank you, hidden smile, or small pause of recognition in their step is almost always the reward.