Blogs worth reading, my music tastes, and summer. And TEDxRedmond. And polysyndeton, apparently.

I'm not sure what it is with teenage girls in Washington State, but we have a thing for blog writing. So much so that I have three recommendations of thoughtful, lyrically-written, far-more-frequently-updated-than-mine blogs. By...you guessed it. Girls in Washington State.

Is it the water here?

Delitescency, by Niyathi
The first is a new find: "Delitescency," with the not unambitious tagline of "A teenager's view on human nature," is quietly beautiful; its sentiments, those both grave and whimsical, remind me of myself at odd moments. A quote: "This blog sets me free." Liberation is one of my favorite words, so this blog speaks to a kindred spirit. I highly recommend the post "Doll Dilemmas." Oh, that's one more thing: Niyathi and I both beheaded our Barbies. I promise, less disturbing than it sounds. Indeed, reading the blog gives one a sense of deepness and remove (in its consideration of issues of human nature, for instance) and immediate relatability, a rare gift. - http://delitescency.blogspot.com/

Merry Go Round, by Christina
I know Christina from our work together on the TEDxRedmond committee, but seeing the depth of her writing finesse provoked the same reaction from me as seeing a video of her singing: "What have you been hiding from us all this time?" :) The description--"a ride through the optimistic side of life and all its wonders" provides a clear introduction to the tone and mood of the site. From happy tidbits of all sorts--pictures, quotes, life updates--to moving poems (one of my favorites is "Noir," with lines like "Yesterday's tea was the color of deception" and "praying to the deep blues on the wallpaper to take us in"), Christina's blog is an enchanting merry-go-round indeed - http://christina-merry-go-round.blogspot.com/

Allegro, by Maya
Maya is a friend, TEDxRedmond colleague, and fellow poet of mine (I fondly recall our work together on the City of Redmond Centennial Poetry project). She truly brings the best of all her many strengths to her blog: clarity, dedication, and serious consideration of every issue. Though her non-fiction writing is indubitably excellent, her poetry is the most magnetic aspect of her blog; I consistently envy her ease in creating poems of ethereal, wistful images with clear precision. Maya has the skill of bringing an image close enough that you can grasp it--before it slips through your fingers like so many grains of precious sand. My favorite stanza, the last, of her poem "Fireflies":
"Laugh.
Open your hands
and watch dancing lights
fade into fluorescence."
Her blog is many dancing lights. - http://mayaganesan.blogspot.com/

Since I like polysyndeton I'm keeping the ridiculous title of this blog, but I'm actually going to write about all those things in my next post.

The Worth of Ideas

I once heard a quote along the lines of, "An idea--just an idea--is worthless if you don't do something with it, if it doesn't translate to action." A more famous variant comes from Thomas Edison's "The value of an idea lies in the using of it."

What do you think? Is the sheer idea, independent of direct action, worthless?

In the moment, the statement didn't bother me that much, but it did a great deal upon my future reflection. I'm reminded of Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick's famous "Just Words" speech during his gubernatorial campaign, in which he said in response to his opponent, "Her dismissive point, and I hear it a lot from her staff, is all I have to offer is words," he said. "Just words. 
We holds these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal’ — just words. Just words. We have nothing to fear but fear itself. Just words. ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.’ Just words. 'I have a dream’ — just words."


Deval Patrick's powerful response, garnering tremendous applause, highlighted the power of words; I think it's also time we highlight the power of ideas. Sure, there's a lot already being done; after all, TED.com is dedicated to "ideas worth spreading" and they are clearly widely respected, with ever increasing reach. 


Yet still, we oftentimes overlook the inherent value of ideas. Isn't everything we hold dear (or not) an idea, somehow? Isn't love an idea, if we isolate it from merely the biological feeling; isn't hate an idea, too? In some sense the bonds of family are ideas--the idea, the knowledge somehow that we love and are loved unconditionally is one of the most comforting things there is, yet do we necessarily always translate that into action? (Come on, you know you haven't called up your grandparents.) 


I may be biased because I'm a huge TED fan and organize a TEDx conference here in Redmond (dedicated to the "ideas worth spreading" of youth), but I think there's also further objective evidence to support the power of ideas. In our wars overseas in recent memory, we've focused (at least out loud) on "winning hearts and minds" as much as fists.


Overlooking the value of ideas in their organic sense discourages intellectualism, and moreover, the joy of simply thinking. My best conversations haven't actually been the ones about the urgent problems or solutions right in front of us (much as I love politics) or the actions to be crossed off of to-do lists. Rather, they've more often than not been about issues that transcend action (or at least, actions by me alone). War and peace and love and hate, good and evil and humanity and nature, even, sometimes, the universe--problems I can never solve, places I can never go, us crazy people whom I sometimes can't understand. 


We all have philosophers within. To dispute the value of ideas, or set up an inappropriate comparison of superiority/inferiority between action and ideas, is to be nearsighted. It denies the beauty of the world that's larger than us. I find it simultaneously strange and humbling to realize what thin threads we are on the tapestry of history, how shallow our footprints on the sands of time can be. I believe surely in leaving those footprints and in the value of action. I mean, one of my favorite quotes is Horace Mann's rousing "Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity." But I also believe keenly that ideas have value all by themselves; for where will we achieve those victories, if not first within our minds? 

the oppression of attention

Who doesn't love attention? We clamor for it as kids, throwing temper tantrums incessantly. We fight with our siblings. We conduct daring feats and do stupid things. Yet somewhere along the road this morphs into closing our doors, demanding our personal space, and yelling, "Just leave me alone!"

 I'll admit, I used to have little empathy for this mindset when I saw it evidenced by my older sister, Adrianna; to me, she was just distancing herself from the rest of the family for no reason. Now, however, I feel like I can relate a bit. These past couple of weeks have been highly unusual ones in my household. Adrianna's actually gone at music camp in Michigan, so I am for all intents and purposes an only child. You might think that I'd relish all the undivided attention from my parents now, but instead, I feel a certain oppression. This might sound ungrateful, so let me just say right now that I love my parents and value the time I spend with them. But I also feel that it may be a wider problem--one of desire for independence clashing with protectiveness and a misplaced definition of love as dependence--that causes and explains the "leave me alone" mindset many teens can relate to.

 At fourteen, I feel the pressures of impending adulthood and a sense of responsibility that I feel should be matched by my parents' trust; I'm growing older and I'll be off to college in two years, since I skipped grades. Yet at the same time, it's plausible to posit that my mom feels the time she has left with me ticking away and wants to capitalize on it. The sense of impending loss is undoubtedly ominous--to the both of us (I'll have to do my own laundry?! Just kidding). However, it's also undeniably a part of growing up. I need to be allowed to make my own decisions and mistakes, take leaps--and fall--without receiving too much help, because it's what I'll be doing for the rest of my life.

 In many ways this is what young people did for many years. You might have heard stories from your parents or grandparents about their thrilling adventures in their youth. When he was my age, my dad was taking trains around the East Coast or breaking his teeth on ill-advised bike rides. My mom was running away from home. In the olden days, fourteen-year-olds took on heavy responsibilities as well as risks (seriously, just read Little House on the Prairie). Yet in today's world, it's easy for parents to hover over the shoulder in more ways than one; nowadays, parents monitor children's activities on social media (like in the infamous example of Tommy Jordan, the father who shot his daughter's laptop after seeing her negative post on Facebook); stay in constant communication through Skype or texting; and even extend their influence beyond the ages children typically gain some modicum of independence. Professors in college tell anecdotes of parents calling them up to complain about a son or daughter's subpar grade. I feel that this infantilizes young adults, and that this seeming "protection" can only have negative ramifications later on. It reminds me of the ethos of the Lana Del Rey song "Without You," particularly one line: "I can be a china doll / If you want to see me fall." We may be coddled, dressed up, given every advantage--in short, prepped for perfection--but there are cracks in the porcelain. Will we break when we fall?

 (Of course, I want to add a quick disclaimer here that backing off from the parental hover doesn't mean being negligent. If teens are facing serious issues--i.e., around mental health or drug addictions--then they need attention, no matter how much they ask to be left alone.)

 Of course, my mom isn't a legitimate example of a helicopter parent. She's never shot a computer, incessantly chatted with me on Skype, or yelled at a teacher about a grade. Okay, like many parents, she can get borderline creepy when she has a camera (there was one stalker-ish photo through window blinds once)...but perhaps the most clear exemplification of my mom's feeling comes in the form of things she's said--often in a joking way, but probably with a kernel of truth--along the lines of, "I miss the old Adora" or "What happened to the little Adora?" Sure, I miss "the old Adora" sometimes too (who doesn't want to be able to innocently run around in the mud as much as they used to?) but I feel that these quotes belie a certain clinging to a persistent memory that no longer exists in reality. Imagine if I said things like, "I miss my old mother." I wonder how my mom would feel.

 So how do people grow up in ways that minimize conflicting feelings of independence desired versus dependence missed? Perhaps as the children start to fly from the quintessential "nest," parents can find some new "children" of sorts to lavish attention on. Excellent examples come from senior citizens who invest themselves heavily in volunteering and charitable causes. I think it's important to define the difference between attention and love, after all. As children, we have a tenuous idea of love; we often try to quantify it with how much we feel seen and heard. Now, I want the independence that comes with being sure of my parents' love, and not needing to feel them watch me. Besides, I know I'm not such a little kid anymore that I'm going to get jealous of whatever my parents start to pay attention to next...I mean, really, can you imagine fighting with a good cause the same way you used to fight with your siblings? So, Mom and Dad, don't take it the wrong way: leave me alone. Believe me: those are the new three little words parents everywhere should want to hear.

some updates

I spoke at the Mashable Connect Conference in Orlando, Florida, recently--you can check out my speech, and the accompanying article (which has already gotten hundreds of tweets, amazingly!) here: http://mashable.com/2012/05/10/millennials-social-media-adora-svitak/

Also while in Florida, I had the chance to meet Dave Finnigan, the legendary juggler (author of several books on the topic, and founder of a non-profit, "Juggling for Success," which teaches young people important life skills through juggling). He taught me how to juggle, a first for me, and we also discussed his new program, "Climate Change is Elementary"! It's an awesome non-profit which brings compelling, interactive education on the issue of climate change to elementary school students. One of my favorite things is that it really empowers students--to learn about something in an active way (the program doesn't use slides and a lecture, but rather interactive movement and modeling), and to become activists. I love this approach and encourage you all to check out the website: http://www.climatechangeiselementary.com/ and encourage your local schools to check it out! They're also hoping to partner soon with the Earth Island Institute, another great organization.

Furthermore, I finished my first AP tests this week--AP Art History (the hardest, and most epic one), AP English Literature and Composition (I thought it was going to be quite arduous when I started going through my massive stack of flashcards and saw words like "polysyndeton" and "epistrophe," but it was actually pretty manageable), and AP US History (my studying was a little last-minute, so I'm unsure, but I felt fairly good with most of the content). I feel like CollegeBoard makes way too much money off these exams--and is a little hyper active about test security--but I think it is cool that we high school students have an opportunity to get college credit, and do college-level work, in high school. Your thoughts on AP's and standardized testing?

Hope all you youth writers think of contributing to my writing blog, writewithadora.com, and the education reform discussion on The Student Union: facebook.com/groups/thestudentunion. See you all with some more posts in the summer! :) (or sooner)

on being overly apologetic

I never thought I had a problem with saying "Sorry" until I apologized to a chair.
"Sorry!" I gasped as I barreled past, almost knocking it to the floor. "I mean--nothing--chair--" and then I stopped talking, because I realized I looked like a big enough fool already.

But this issue of over-apologetic-ness has come to a point where even my biology teacher told me to "stop saying sorry!" Apparently, now that I'm aware of the word, I use it everywhere. I say, "Sorry" when I'm beginning to ask a question to a busy person, "Sorry" after a near-miss collision in the school hallway, "Sorry" to car drivers who patiently wait for me to run across the street (even though they probably can't hear me mumble)...all this despite the fact that, really, I've done nothing wrong.

With this unnecessary use of the word you might think that I'm an awesome apologizer (which, by the way, is not a word, though it totally should be). Not true. I can't remember the last time I apologized without the strange habit of crossing my fingers to invalidate it (blame it on a childhood filled with perceived injustices in sibling disputes, alright?)

So yeah, I really have a problem with the word "Sorry."

Sorry!

Education: not ready to listen?

"The customer knows best." It's an adage seemingly old as time (for us young'uns, anyway). While it's not always the case (as anyone who has worked an intense over-the-phone customer service job before may know), it's certainly always valuable for businesses to listen to what clients are saying--whether surveys, market research, or feedback cards, many businesses have some structure in place to listen to their customers. And public feedback can have an important impact--Bank of America cancelled its $5-a-month debit card fee before it even began due to customer backlash.

In almost every area of the private and public sectors (think of representatives meeting with constituents or city hall meetings), there are ways for "customers"--those receiving the services or being represented--to make their voices heard. So why should education be any different?

Education? you might think. Surely there are those school board meetings or PTAs? But a crucial voice is missing in education: that of the student's. How often do classroom teachers ask students to provide them with feedback on how their teaching could be improved so students learn better? When was the last time administrators sat down with students and gave them decision-making power or at least input--no, not just over the theme of the Homecoming Dance or how to decorate the school for the holidays, but important issues like curriculum, required courses, or assessment?

I'm asking these questions because of an email from a prestigious education membership organization that my mom recently received in response to talks about a potential book I was hoping to write (that would bring issues of student voice, reciprocal learning, and education technology to the forefront). It said that based on their research, the education community "is not yet ready to receive the message from a student."

If the education community is unable or unwilling to receive a message about education from a student, I think we have problems. We'd find it unacceptable if our representatives suddenly started refusing to meet with constituents or if companies like Bank of America kept on charging ridiculous fees despite public uproar. Yet we accept that education doesn't want to hear from students? We are the "customers" of our nation's schools. It's in our interest to learn in the best way we can--many of my fellow students have plenty of wise insights that I think could help change education for the better--but that simply won't happen if the adults in the room are covering their ears.

"One Expensive Chocolate Bar" - Story Written With Elementary School Students Over Video Conferencing

One Expensive Jumbo Chocolate Bar

     It was quite a festive scene at the McHugh house on January 17^th . There were bright red and gold streamers, colorful lights, and a very big chandelier.

     It was all to celebrate Bob McHugh’s birthday. He was the baby of the family—he was just turning seven years old (and very proud of it). All day in school, he had been reminding his classmates how old he was.

     “I’m turning seven!” he shouted in the middle of PE class.

     “That’s very nice. Now go do five more pushups,” said the PE teacher gruffly.

     Bob was super excited about the number of presents he received on his birthday from friends and family. Not only did he get a brand new toy train set and an iPod, Bob also received fifteen dollars in cash from his grandpa.

     “That’s more than last year,” commented his brother David as Bob counted his money. “Wait—watch out, Bob—you’re throwing money all over the place—” David gaped helplessly as his little brother tossed money in the air and cackled.

     “I’m rich! I’m rich!” Bob crowed gleefully.

     “Uhhh…not quite,” David said matter-of-factly. “Fifteen dollars is a lot of money, but it’ll go really fast unless you manage it carefully.”

     “You sound like a banker, David,” Bob said, sounding bored. “What do you think I can get with all this money? Do you think I could get that jumbo chocolate Hershey’s bar?”

     “Bob, would you really want to spend all your money on chocolate?” David asked, aghast.

     “Sure! Why not? It’s not like there’s anything better to spend it on,” Bob said obliviously.

     “I could think of a lot of things, but sure, it’s your money,” David said, and, shaking his head at Bob’s foolishness, left the room.

     The next day Bob ran down to the local chocolate store to buy his jumbo Hershey’s chocolate bar. He plunked down all fifteen dollars on the counter and smiled happily.

     Over the next few days, Bob’s attitude toward chocolate changed dramatically.

     On day five of eating chocolate non-stop, Bob looked with despair at his only quarter-finished jumbo chocolate bar.

     “I’m gonna die before I finish all this chocolate,” he moaned as David walked into the room. “There’s no way.”

     “I tried to warn you,” David said. He could have added another “I-told-you-so” but decided against it. “Next time you get a lot of money for your birthday, why don’t you save it?”

     “You’re sounding like a banker again,” Bob said unhappily, but he listened. “Alright, go on.”

     “You can save it and then when you have enough money, you can buy something big that you actually want,” David said, “or need. Instead of the jumbo chocolate bar, imagine if you had put that fifteen dollars in the bank and saved for that summer camp you really want to go to, or for college—”

     “Or for a flatscreen TV,” Bob said hopefully.

     David rolled his eyes. He wondered if Bob would ever learn…

     “But I think I’ll save it for college,” Bob added quickly with an angelic smile.

     “Okay,” David said, a little relieved. Maybe “sounding like a banker” wasn’t such an insult after all.

THE END.  

------

I wrote this with elementary school students via video conferencing as part of a program called "A Kid's Guide to Smart Money."

National Novel Writing Month and Homework

Hi guys,
I feel like I haven't posted anything in quite a while and wanted to quickly update on two things which I hope sort of explain my long silence:
1. I have slain the beast that is finishing NaNoWriMo! For those of you who aren't familiar with it, National Novel Writing Month is a challenge to write 50,000 words (in a novel) in the month of November. I started work on my novel, Truth and Beauty, five days into the challenge and managed to finish a couple days early (out of necessity, since I was leaving on a trip to Colorado and California for two speeches). Oh yes--the speeches should also help explain the silence on here :) I will post more about my travels once I have finished the second thing, which is
2. Catching up on homework. I have a feeling I will have stuff left over to do on Winter Break. Mostly AP Art History stuff...writing 12 art criticisms in one night is no mean feat (although definitely not specific just to me--pretty much everyone else does exactly the same thing)...plus a biology test tomorrow, AP US History, AP Lit. and Comp., Geometry, and French. Yeah, I will definitely be doing work over Winter Break too.
I'd love to hear your opinion on homework and testing. I had the thought as I started studying for my tests coming up that tests don't necessarily test authentic learning--more realistically, they test how much studying you did the night before. However, if we don't use bubble-ins, how do we get results for data and research purposes? Better assessment was quite a hot topic at both of the two education conferences where I was presenting this week.

Social Circles

If you're an adult, I want you to think for a moment about your childhood; if you're a kid or teen, I want you to think a moment about your experience growing up and in the present day.

Ask yourself: who were/are my friends? Where did/do they come from?

As in--did they all go to the same school as you? Perhaps take one or more of the same classes with you? Hang out with your friends?

I'm guessing that most of them were, in some way or another, in your "social circle." My sister, Adrianna, is in high school. A lot of her friends are "Questies" (a reference to the "Quest" program for gifted students back in junior high). Her social circle, if I'm not much mistaken, mainly includes friends she's made in orchestra, Japanese class, and through mutual friends. She has 745 friends on Facebook; most of them go to her high school.

I have slightly more friends on Facebook (789). But of those friends, the overwhelming majority aren't local. I have friends from England to China, the United Arab Emirates to Indonesia, Mexico, Canada, etc. Some I've met at various conferences, others through blogs or shared advocacy groups (for instance, a lot of my friends are involved in education reform efforts).

If you think about how people make conversation, it's often by finding commonalities--the same hometown, the same favorite sports team, the same class or teacher or language studied. But I wonder: if most of your friends live within a fifty-mile radius, what does that say about you and your ability to connect with people, no matter how different they may seem?

When I think about it, many of the most awesome people I know are far-flung across the nation or the world. TEDxRedmond's speakers live in all corners of the US. Recently I caught up with Brigitte Berman(who spoke at TEDxRedmond last year about bullying) when I was in Boston. When I head to California for another TEDx event I'll be seeing Alec Loorz (environmental advocacy) and Jason O'Neill (entrepreneurship).

And my friends Line and Boushra Dalile (two sisters who are champion golfers, TEDxAjman speakers, and excellent writers) are from the United Arab Emirates; I had the chance to meet them in person when I went to Dubai earlier this year.

I've only met Brigitte twice, and Alec and Jason, Line and Boushra once each. I don't see them in the hallways every day at school, I don't say hi to them at the local library, I can't call them up to hang out or party. :) But I can remember having amazing conversations with them all--whether what we had in common was a conference, a goal, or a love for writing. 

Being able to connect with people regardless of "social circle"--transcending the usual measures we use to evaluate if someone is "like us"--is an invaluable skill. Think of how diplomats and businesspeople and the chatty person next to you on the plane do it. I found my own skills tested when I went to Sri Lanka as part of a field visit with the World Food Programme--an amazing organization which I'm proud to work with (you can see my blog post I wrote about that trip here). Visiting their school, I was more than a little nervous. What could I say to these kids, whose experiences seemed literally a world away? Tarp-roofed shacks that could be swept away by floods in the next rainy season. Kitchens without electricity or even running water. School lunch being a lifeline, not an object of complaint.

But despite their environment, so removed from the affluence I see in my home of Redmond, and the necessary trickiness of interpretation, there were still things to talk about. I tried teaching a bit of English, and simultaneously tried my best to comprehend Tamil. (I definitely failed). When I visited a maternity center, a joint program of the WFP and the Sri Lankan Ministry of Health, I sampled homemade foods from the new mothers in attendance. Appropriately for a field visit with the World Food Programme, conversation usually began with food--how school lunches were helping kids, etc. You see, when you're seeking ways to connect with people, you realize that commonalities may be right in front of you. On this trip, it was something basic: food. We all eat (though, as I saw firsthand, some obviously more than others).

The skill of being able to move between one "circle" to the next, with grace and fluidity, is important--not letting ourselves be defined by one term or one group or one organization/school--"Redmond High School" "Harvard" "Microsoft" "Republican" "Democrat" "black" "white" "nerds" "jocks" "geeks" "hipsters" "Questies." Sure, you might say that you have friends within a fifty-mile radius because really, it's hard to make friends outside of school or church or neighborhood. But even within the organizations you belong to--are you sticking inside just one social circle? Don't let commonalities trap you in a fishbowl.

So--try introducing your school friends to your music friends to your lacrosse friends to your education-reform-on-Facebook friends. Let those circles overlap. :)

And perhaps, at some point, we can forget about having firmly set social circles altogether. Because all that a circle does is keep some people in and all the rest of us, out.

Productivity

I'm writing this at 11:52 PM mainly not because I have a particular burning desire to write a blog post or even that I have a strong passion on the topic of productivity, but more (fittingly) because I feel like I need to produce some sort of written work today. :)

Admittedly, I did spend a good portion of the morning emailing TEDxRedmond speakers (www.tedxredmond.com--the youth event I'm organizing), working on a document about TEDxRedmond for potential sponsors, communicating with organizing committee members, and taking a SAT Literature Practice Subject Test for fun during commercial breaks on the evening news broadcast (FYI, my scaled score was 760/800--hoping I can do better without the news as a distraction next time--and yes, to folks who disagree with testing, I was seriously doing it for fun), as well as taking a walk to the grocery store with my sister and mom. When I list what I've done today off like that it sounds slightly more "productive" but all the same I feel like I haven't done much, because not mentioned in that list are the minutes I spent skulking around after breakfast, how much time I spent just not really wanting to do much, etc.

My imaginary really productive day for me is one where I wake up early (well, my version of early is more like 9 AM), finish a speech, create a presentation, make a YouTube video, write a few short stories and poems, answer all the emails lingering in my inbox, do some math and science, write a blog post, and then sit back and relax and watch a movie or an episode of Arrested Development on Netflix instant play at night with my family, or read a new book. In short, cross everything off my to-do list and feel sufficiently accomplished to reward myself. :)

Of course, I've never had a day quite like that. I've certainly had days with elements of that, but most of the time I'll end up slacking off. I'll mark the email as important and then forget about it, or skip the math in favor of re-reading a Harry Potter book.

I joke to my mom that I envy kids who had to be coaxed into reading, whose parents give them treats for reading twenty minutes--my parents are the opposite. You see, I have to make deals sometimes (usually when I'm supposed to be preparing for a trip, going to sleep, or otherwise engaged) to read an extra chapter in a story.

It's been that way since I was little and my mom would try to coax me to go play outside instead of read yet another chapter book. When I was six my mom had to do the same in order to get me to stop typing up short stories on my laptop, and come eat dinner. A lot of my peers have parents shouting at them to do SAT practice when, yeah, I was doing the Literature practice test for fun (does that sound incredibly nerdy? I'm a big fan of literature and I'll tell you, the SAT practice subject test is better than mindlessly watching ads on TV during commercial breaks).

No, my personal definition of "productivity" is something closer to a ton of blog posts (I wish--I really need to update more), TEDxRedmond issues neatly squared away, maybe a masterpiece novel, and--this is really unlikely--me producing a properly shaded drawing (my tortillion-wielding skills need work). Other people's definition of productivity might mean de-bugging systems, making a certain amount of money, efficiently finishing homework, etc.

The really strange thing is that sometimes one person's leisure is another person's work (not quite a trash v. treasure thing, but I used the saying's structure). That is, my reading a couple novels--what I consider a break from, say, emailing people about TEDxRedmond or preparing a presentation (both perfectly enjoyable, just not things I want to do all the time) could be someone else's version of one-more-thing-on-the-to-do-list. It's an odd thought.

As I'm heading off to brush my teeth, now at 12:15 AM, somewhat satisfied with what I've done today, I have to wonder: should we be forcing ourselves to be productive in the first place? How far is too far? What's your personal definition of "productivity?"

---
PS, to everyone worried about my psychological health and about to comment that kids should totally have free rein over the summer, my version of free rein is pretty much exactly what I did today. :)
Yeah, I'm just really into organizing events.

Three favorite books about international characters

Dawn by Elie Wiesel
I read this a couple years ago and picked it up from the library to re-read recently, then had my mom read it as well. Thanks to the conciseness of its 80 pages, this novel is approachable to most readers. The plot is seemingly simple--the thoughts and reflections of a Jewish Israeli freedom fighter (or terrorist, depending on your viewpoint) on the night he is condemned to kill a British soldier in retaliation for the execution of a fellow Israeli fighter.

Though fictional, I think this story lends more insight to the Israeli vs. British fight for a Jewish homeland than the passing mentions the conflict is usually given in American history textbooks. As a book comprised of the main character's reflections, it is moving and raises important questions about the ambiguity of good and evil; Dawn is a book that explores the inner workings of the "gray area" of black and white.


The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (series) by Alexander McCall Smith
This heartwarming, cheery series about the proudly "traditionally built" Botswanan self-made detective Precious Ramotswe makes mystery both realistic and readable for easily scared folks like me. The series (thankfully) features no Agatha Christie-style nail-biters where people are getting murdered left and right; no, the problems Precious Ramotswe solves have more to do with people, feelings, and culture--whether stolen cattle or unethical witchdoctors, wayward apprentices or soon-to-be-married couples.

Nobody ends up getting killed and best of all, McCall Smith writes a perfect balance of interesting plot and beautifully lyrical details of the Botswanan landscape. The books give us a great gift of seeing Africa outside the lens of what we typically see in the news--famines in Somalia or protests in Egypt; shifting our focus away from the tragic or dramatic and painting a picture of the everyday and the beautiful. (Oh, and McCall Smith's other books are awesome too--I love the Sunday Philosophy Club, Irregular Portuguese Verbs, Corduroy Mansions, La's Orchestra Saves the World, and all the rest). :)

Aria by Nassim Assefi
While it's arguable that the main character in Aria, Dr. Jasmine Talahi, lives in Seattle and is thus not an "international character," the book--told as a series of letters and narratives--follows the Iranian-American woman around the world in her odyssey--both tangible and intangible--to find peace after the death of her five-year-old daughter. While the main character's Iranian heritage plays strongly into the novel, providing an un-sensationalized insight into Iran (much like Ladies' Detective Agency for Botswana and Africa), it is not the sole subject of the book.

The complexity of the protagonist's own struggle with the meaning of loss and mourning, an epistolary tug-of-war between supporting characters pleading with Jasmine to come back home, and the slow revelation of Jasmine's past over the course of the book, and you have a novel that is at once a mental reflection and a physical journey.

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There you have some of my favorite books with international characters! I've found that reading fiction is an excellent way to broaden one's horizons about the world from a more first-person perspective.