ealitiesPremier Issue 2009 R A Cross-Cultural Publication from North Hennepin Community College

Realities, First Issue: Title 1 Table of Contents

Acknowledgements ...... ii Introduction ...... iii

Taking In the New and Unexpected Entering Japan Derek Jacobson ...... 2 Finland: The Unknown Land Megan McAdams ...... 4 Times We Endure Elizabeth Waldmyer ...... 5 Found Soul Mate on The Other Side of the World Ligaya Exala ...... 6 The Plunge Rashad Nash ...... 8 The Collected Self Bisho Kirti Maharjan ...... 12 New Perspective Michelle Hanson...... 13 Realities How to Accept Newness Liuba Kazaryan...... 14 A North Hennepin Community College Publication of Student Writing for sharing of cross-cultural experiences Settling In Filling the Heart Anew Patricia Weisman ...... 16 The Thing I Miss Most Kevin Tillman ...... 17 Premier Issue, Academic Year 2008–2009 Hope Springs Eternal If You Keep a Bounce in Your Step Patchia Carrie Yang ....18 The Language I Learned Abroad Anthony Kiekow...... 20 North Hennepin Community College 7411 Eighty-fifth Avenue North The Culture of Family Another Dinner at Mom’s House Erin Donovan ...... 22 Brooklyn Park, Minnesota 55445 Shadows of Abuse Sherri Morgan ...... 24 www.nhcc.edu The Meaning of Life Kelly Herbst...... 28

Mark L. Larson and Don Wendel The Culture of School Childhood Memories of Schools in The U.S. Jack Panton ...... 30 Founders and Editors The Time I Learned Something I’ll Never Forget Vanessa Morris ...... 32 The Bus Ride of a Lifetime Emily Haisley...... 34 www.nhcc.edu/realities My Life As a Reader Meda Rogich ...... 36 Out of The Ashes Carol Lafleur ...... 38 My Most Memorable Moment in Class Lassana Y. Bamba, Jr...... 40

Customs and Beliefs The Message of Islam Asma Khan ...... 42 Traditional Marriage in China Pianpian Huang ...... 43 Wedding Day Nadya Stroeva ...... 44

The Ravages of War The Incident That Made Me Angry Winifred Bradford...... 46 This issue of Realities is dedicated to all people who have had the courage to cross over their boundaries, thereby enriching their lives by seeing how other lives are lived. Memories of People, Places, and Times The Most Peaceful Place I Know Ifeyinwa Osakwe ...... 50 My Grandfather: A Progressive and Wise Patriotic Vietnamese Maria Tran...... 52 Note from the editors: A Little Girl Jessica Hanson...... 55 To preserve the authenticity and character of the writings, they have been minimally edited. The Old Country Jon Kautz...... 56

Appendix Realities Second Issue call for Submissions ...... Appendix 1 Submission Guidelines ...... Appendix 2 Cover art painted by Leny Emmerzael-Wendel, Cover design by Miki Martin, Publication design by Jennifer Caudill Acknowledgments Introduction

We thank the following people who have contributed Realities is a non-fiction student writing publication that brings to life true chronicles of students at our college to bringing this publication to fruition: who have had significant cross-cultural experiences. Its goal is to promote campus and community-wide education and understanding of the complexities of cultural experiences, which often go unnoticed in daily interactions. Steven Ahola Matthew Antonio Bosch As North Hennepin Community College is committed to educating a diverse community of learners to maximize Jennifer Caudill their intellectual, creative, and leadership potential, Realities, with its intensely written testimonies, serves as a tool Mary Diedrich to pursue this mission by highlighting cultural experiences, demystifying inaccurate assumptions, and creating an Leny Emmerzael-Wendel educated, empathic understanding. Shayne Ernzer Jean Fouilloux Renowned Japanese poet, Matsuo Basho (1644 –1694), known as the finest writer of Japanese haiku in the seventeenth Bernie Funk century, wrote: Michelle Goode Dianna Johnson chestnut by the eaves Karen Johnson blooms and is passed unnoticed Michele Johnson in this hurried world Scott Johnson Michael Larson North Hennepin Community College, the campus and the community, is enriched by student writings, and we do Yuko Larson not want the realities of our students, like the chestnut tree in this haiku, to go unnoticed by people in this world. Miki Martin For that very reason, this publication we commence. Jolene Mayo Pamela McBroom Sincerely, Jan Mcfall Mark L. Larson Susan Nyhus Don Wendel Lisha Poulakis Jane Reinke Suellen Rundquist Carmen Shoquist Michele Smaby Jane Wilson Patty Yechout Leanne Zainer

All the students who submitted writings All others who promoted the mission of this publication

Haiku translated by Yuko Larson

ii Realities, 2009: Acknowledgments Realities, 2009: Introduction iii am a twenty-five year old Japanese-American male who joined the Navy Iwhen I was nineteen years old. I should have been very excited when I found out that I was going to be stationed in Yokosuka, Japan on the USS Kitty-hawk (CV-63). I thought that I would be able to learn a lot about my Japanese culture and experience all that Japan has to offer; however, as it turned out, I was completely wrong. Entering into Japan was more fright- ening than watching a horror film by yourself on Halloween. I got very lost, I didn’t know how to eat in the Japanese restaurants, and I was shown extreme hatred by a local Japanese woman. This new adventure did not start out how I had expected.

When I arrived in Japan for the first time, my command advised me to walk around the town. They said that was the best way to get used to the new country. So upon their request, I left the Naval base and baby-stepped out into the huge city of towering buildings and crowded walkways filled with Japanese venders. The overwhelming scent radiating from the sushi vender, mixed with the choking exhaust from all of the traffic on the road, was enough to poison my nostrils for days. I wandered like a stray sheep through the many streets for hours until I realized that I didn’t know where I was. All of the streets and buildings looked exactly the same, and the road Entering Japan signs were written in Japanese. Worst of all, everyone that I stopped and by Derek Jacobson asked for directions from had no idea what I was saying. I was stuck like a mouse in a maze with no way out. Several hours later, feeling like a child who lost his mother in an amusement park, I noticed another sailor driving down the street and begged him to give me a ride back to base, which he thankfully agreed to do. As soon as I was back on base, I never wanted to

leave again. |a Entering into Japan was more frightening than Taking in the watching a horror film by yourself on Halloween.

As if getting lost in Japan wasn’t hard enough, trying to figure out how to New and Unexpected eat in Japan was even harder. All of the menus were written in Japanese. Feeling like a kid in second grade who doesn’t know how to read, I had to look at a picture menu and point at what I thought I might like. I thought that I was getting chicken, but it turned out that it was octopus. Then the waiter couldn’t understand what I was saying when I was trying to get a Coca-Cola, so he kept bringing me out green tea. Other things that I expe- rienced during this meal were that there wasn’t anything but chop sticks to use as silverware. No condiments such as ketchup or mayonnaise were available to add flavor to the meal that I was forced to swallow, and I had to eat on the floor with my shoes off because there weren’t any tables. I felt humiliated for not understanding how I was supposed to act. As the embarrassment began to burn red up the back of my neck and into my face, it made me so angry that I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue and

Realities, 2009: Entering Japan 2 struggled through it. The worst was when it came time to pay; I what she meant because she obviously had me mistaken with some- noticed that the entire bill was also written in this weird language, one else, but she said, “U.S. Navy man, you killed my husband in so I didn’t know how much I owed. After quite some time, I threw World War Two.” My heart broke. How could this woman blame Fi n l a n d : down what I thought might be enough for the meal, including a me for events that happened over sixty years ago? I immediately got generous tip, and left the restaurant. As I was walking away from off of the train, sat down on a bench, and tried to put the situation by Megan McAdams the restaurant, I noticed a man running after me like a flash of light- into perspective. I thought about how that woman must have felt ning. I noticed right away that it was the waiter. I stopped and he looking at me. She clearly blames the U.S. Navy for what had the UnknownLand handed me a bunch of money back. I tried to tell him that it was happened to her husband so many years ago. I’m sure that there his, but he said something in Japanese, bowed a few times towards will still be people who unfairly blame all those of Arab decent for me, and ran back into the restaurant. I was so confused because this September eleventh when I’m her age. It’s not right, but I could have wanted to go to Finland for about five years now. My The Finnish culture is a lot different from the American culture. I wouldn’t ever happen in America. I walked back to the base even understand how she might feel. I got off the bench and decided to I mother and father will not let me go until I am eighteen, so it have never been there, and I have no way of knowing what it will be more embarrassed. Did everyone understand this place, but me? I get back onto the train. Even though I wanted to continue sight will be another year before I can go. In the meantime, I have been like when I go there, but I feel as if I have gone there because I have thought it couldn’t get any worse. seeing, I didn’t want to run into the old woman again, so I returned learning as much as possible about the culture and teaching myself talked about it so many times. The Finnish people are very reserved to the base. the language. in their speech, and are pretty quiet in general. I have met a couple That was until I was going sight seeing a couple of days later. I was of really loud and outgoing Finns, and they are the ones I remember on a train heading for Tokyo when I couldn’t help but notice an My first experiences in Japan were extremely frightening. It took a I have slowly been learning Finnish by myself for about three years the most. elderly Japanese woman sitting on the train across from me. She lot of time to become accustomed to their way of life and to feel now. I use a couple of textbooks and one computer program. I have reminded me of pictures of my great grandmother. She was tall, accepted by them. Eventually, I didn’t feel as if I were being judged talked many times with my brother and a couple of my friends who There are many things that I know already about Finland before I with long black hair that shined just as the sun does when it reflects for being an American living on their soil. I learned the city and the know the language, asking questions that I have. I have also dis- can go there to experience it. Things like you have to push the eleva- off of Lake Superior, but she stared at me like a lonely wolf out in roads, I realized I actually like Japanese cuisine, and I met a lot of cussed with Finns about their language, and they have usually an- tor doors open (they are not automatic), you have to pay to use the the middle of the forest on a cold winter night. I couldn’t help but friends native to Japan. Learning these things the hard way when I swered my questions pretty well. bathroom in public, and the toilets flush by pulling a lever up on try to avoid the stare from this woman, but she got closer and closer first entered Japan made these experiences something that I will top. The food is also very bland and not near as sugary and sweet as until finally she looked me right in the eyes and stated in English, never forget. here in America. There is one thing I do know, however, and that is “You killed my husband.” I was shocked. I immediately asked her I cannot wait to go to Finland, but I will just keep the candy in Finland, especially the chocolate is the best one can learning the language and culture until I go. find around.

I cannot wait to go to Finland, but I will just keep learning the lan- ************** There are many Finnish people that come here that I meet. Some guage and culture until I go. I think I will get along very well with Derek Jacobson, 25, grew up in Minnesota. He is one-quarter Japanese from his mother’s side. He grew up knowing his great can speak English really well, and some can only speak a couple the people in Finland, and the language is so beautiful! I hope I will grandfather Shigeo Iseri, who was from Japan, and his son, his grandfather, Glenn Shigeo Iseri. Every New Year’s Eve, his family words. With the Finns that know only a little English, it has been not be disappointed when I finally do make it there because I have got together to have an authentic Japanese meal prepared by his great grandfather. hen Derek graduated from high school, he joined such a good time trying to communicate with them. We speak a lit- such high expectations. the U.S. Navy and was stationed on the USS Kitty-hawk (CV-63), an aircraft carrier stationed in Japan, and spent the next four tle of both languages, and it feels so good when we can get along, years between the ship and Japan. He was also the first one in his family to return to Japan after immigrating to the U.S. He has even if we don’t speak the same language. been out of the Navy for two years, and this is his first semester at North Hennepin Community College. He is pursuing a criminal justice degree.

************** Megan McAdams lives in St. Louis Park, Minnesota. Though her parents were born in Minnesota, she has ancestors on her mother’s side from Finland and on her dad’s side from every country in Europe. She knows a little bit of Spanish and Finnish. This is her sec- ond semester at North Hennepin Community College.

3 Realities, 2009: Entering Japan Realities, 2009: Finland: The Unknown Land 4 Found Soul Mate on the Times We Endure by Elizabeth Waldmyer Other™ Side of the World by Ligaya Exala emember when… R Years ago food was scarce Money was too tight to consider a family fight Remember when… o you ever believe in soul mates, specifically in diverse I am also lucky because this degree helps me to travel to different Relatives in the area stopped by for a meal or two Dcultures? How does one find a soul mate if one starts out a countries. I had been fortunate to experience meeting people from The food was wonderfully shared between the crew world apart. Here is the story of how fate unfolded my life to bring different cultures. It was amazing. Spirit of family gatherings is all I know me to him. Conversation and games were part of the evening show After living for three years in Dubai, I felt a great sensation drawing I would describe my personality as friendly, spontaneous, but a bit me to the United States. I know it was hard to come to the US Remember when… stubborn, and maybe a little pushy. When I was a teenager, I considering visas and such, especially if you are of Asian culture. We both sat talking on the porch thought I was a tomboy and thought I would stay that way forever, But something inside me was telling me I had to go. I couldn’t The sky had darkened, the wind blowing of sort but to my surprise I have become a hopeless romantic. ignore it any longer, leaving all my friends and family I decided I had asked you one simple question to start a conversation to go for it. Yet you sat still and said “That ’s out of the question” One day, back in the Philippines, I was talking to my mom and Remember when… sister about what we wanted when we grew up. I remembered my Being in America was like being in heaven. You might be wonder- It made me wonder if we stayed in our comfortable world sister said, “I want to be a nurse.” Then mom said, “You can do it ing why I say that. For me, it meant that I will have a better life. A world that our parents have embraced so long because you have the guts for it.” Having all these opportunities was astounding. I started working When questions were made and meeting so many diverse people that I thought my brain might Whether all this luxury would stay or be dismayed Then I started yelling, “When I grow up I want to get married and explode. have children with an American guy. I want to find an American I started hanging out with friends after work. Then some friends Remember when… with blond hair and the bluest eyes I have ever seen.” asked me if I wanted to go for a blind date; I decided why not. I did Asked how we would appear to someone looking back at us go for dates and I had a few boyfriends, although in the long run Years into the future to cast none felt compatible. Would they see a wise and hard working person who endured against all odds? I will not ever forget their facial expressions; Remember when… it was like watching a live comedy show and The website of ebscohost.com states, “expect the unexpected.” I was We tell our sisters and brothers no one wants to go back to the old way of life done dating, and I just wanted to focus on my career; that is when I Yet success is overcoming the challenges of seeds sown of our own doings almost peeing in your pants from laughter. found my soul mate. After living here for two years, I saw him one day. You could say it was love at first sight. On that day, I saw a guy Remember when… across the bar; I knew he was the one. Thinking so much of who we are today depends on where we came from yesterday I will not ever forget their facial expressions; it was like watching a We are the legacy that our parents left behind; it all comes together for sake of all mankind. live comedy show and almost peeing in your pants from laughter. This is the funny story, but I think most women do this thing. I was They were laughing so hard that everyone could hear us and wanted the first to make the move, and the rest is history. It turns out the to know what I said. Then, I yelled again and said to everyone that, day we met was his birthday. He was telling me that all he ever “I want to find a husband from a diverse culture, just watch me, it wished for on every birthday is happiness. Here’s the catch; in my ************** will happen. I can feel it.” language my name, Ligaya, means happy. He got his wish granted Elizabeth Waldmyer was born in San Jose, Norte Mallig, Isabela Philippines, the northern part of the Luzon island. She is number from the other side of the world that he in no way ever expected. nine in a family of eleven children. After going to college in Angeles Pampanga, she went to be a domestic helper under contract with a When I finished college in the Philippines with an Associate Degree family in Honk Kong for two years and then went to Canada to do the same thing there. Elizabeth came to the United States in 1988 in Hotel Restaurant Management, I started to look for a job that We never thought of what our families would think about us being and lived in New Mexico with her sister. While in New Mexico, she met her husband and lived in New Mexico till 2002, when she was related to my degree. I happened to be lucky because at the of different cultures. When I introduced him to my family, you can moved to Minnesota. She speaks English as well as the Ilocano dialect of the Philippines. While in New Mexico, she went to the local same time there were lot of hotels looking for people who have a guess what my sister said, “Oh my God! You were really serious college to get a degree in nursing, which she achieved in 1997. Currently, Elizabeth is a student at North Hennepin Community degree and experience. when you told us about finding your soul mate. He has blond hair College and started in 2006 to take her prerequisite subjects so that she could go into the RN nursing program. She got the idea of the and the bluest eyes I have ever seen.” That is when it hit me, “Oh journal when reminiscing with her sister about the days when they were growing up and how things have changed over the years.

5 Realities, 2009: Times We Endure Realities, 2009: Found Soul Mate on the Other Side of the World 6 my God” I never thought about that for so long. It had been a long Now, my fiancée is adapting very well in our culture. Take note, we y first solid exposure to a foreign culture occurred in the United time since my sister and I had talked about it that it never occurred did not put a gun to his head and threaten him to be who we are. MStates military and more specifically the shock of basic military to me. Even though our family still has traditional values, they gave He chose to learn our tradition. He is even trying hard to learn our training in comparison to my previous existence. Although my life prior to us their blessing to be happy. languages. For me, I am one of the people who is lucky to have joining the military was not horrible, it lacked a real future to look forward found my soul mate and also, unique because my soul mate hap- The to with anticipation. In addition, I was also very sheltered, naïve, and At the present, we have been living together for the past four pens to be from a different culture. childish as my eyes and mind saw only the small view of Minneapolis, years and have had a beautiful son. We had obstacles that we instead of the world. Therefore, one day I made a decision. A monumental encountered, but we did stick together for better or worse. Nowa- choice that initiated a chain reaction of events that has taken me around days, we are living “happily ever after.” P the globe and back again. I joined the United States Air Force. L After weeks of waiting and passing a multitude of tests, I finally signed my entry papers and received airplane tickets and official orders to report for ************** Basic at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. As I began my trip Ligaya Exala was born in the Philippines, where she learned to speak English in addition to many Philippines dialects. She moved to U to the airport, I thought of the week prior and the last twelve-hour shift I Manila to pursue a college education, then moved to Dubai, United Arab Emirates, to work at the Jumeirah Beach International would ever have to toil at the printing press in Golden Valley. The sweet, Hotel. In 2001, she moved to the United States of America on a student exchange visa and completed a management program at the N metallic smell of the ink followed by the dry, evaporating sting of the gaso- Doubletree Hotel in Bloomington, MN. As a management trainee, she worked in various departments, mainly in food and beverage. line soaked rinse cloths were still all too familiar on my hands. I knew very In 2005, she moved to Sarasota, Florida, to work at Marina Jacks II. She is now back in Minnesota, studying at North Hennepin well that my life was not a bad one. I had a pretty girlfriend who loved me Community College to earn a degree as a paralegal. One of her future goals is to work in the field of immigration as a paralegal. G dearly. I owned a semi-decent car that did not leave a trail of smoke in its wake. I had all the good friends one man could ever need. Yet, inside, I E knew that my life was not going to lead to a comfortable future that I knew I could achieve. My friends and loved ones told me that I was insane to join. They pleaded with me to reconsider and tried to scare me by telling by Rashad LaRue Nash me that the military was for petty criminals, not someone like me. I told them that I thought they were wrong and that I had to make a change as soon as possible to avoid working for small pay in dangerous jobs such as the one I held. I wanted to cut a clear path in life rather than stumbling

My entry into a new world began with a splash as I arrived at the airport and boarded a plane for the first time in my life.

through it with careless abandon. I saw the military as the sharp tool neces- sary to clear the way, to point my life in a direction filled with goals and less hardships. I was also thrilled at the thought of maybe even being able see a bit of the world in the process.

My entry into a new world began with a splash as I arrived at the airport and boarded a plane for the first time in my life. As I sat, my sweaty palms nervously gripping the armrests, I stared inquiringly out of the small, circu- lar double paned window. Although I had always had a slight fear of heights, the altitude at which we flew did not inspire fear. Instead, it made the world appear almost as if it were a scaled down replica world in some model train aficionado’s study. The marvels of the land seemed to slide lazily by as if in slow motion as we floated by overhead. Tiny handcrafted

7 Realities, 2009: Found Soul Mate on the Other Side of the World Realities, 2009: The Plunge 8 trees, miniature barns, farms, and houses with little twinkling lights reprimanded by the administration personnel and told to speak ure of me with fierce, soul-piercing eyes. His face changed a few that needed showers and only ten showerheads, time spent actually dotting the landscape here and there. I half wondered if I would see quickly and clearly. Immediately after roll call, we were loaded back hues and the bulge of his jaw muscle stretched the immaculately under the running water was extremely limited. The process was some giant child in scruffy, striped overalls and matching conduc- onto the bus and taken to a very large ruddy brick building with an clean-shaven skin on his face. not to clean, but instead, simply go through the motions of taking tor’s cap gleefully playing somewhere down below. As the Lionel immense steel overhang. The two military personnel then jostled us a shower. We snaked into the shower room, shuffling between train play set world skimmed by below me, I recounted the steps onto a blacktop underneath the overhang, hurriedly forming us into His reply was eerily quiet compared to the roaring shouts he spoke alternately frigidly cold and scalding hot showerheads while a TI that had placed me in that gravity-defying seat in the sky. rows a few feet apart, before finally making everyone stand at atten- with previously. “Son, are you ready to scrap with me right here and counted almost whimsically, “One, two, three switch!” Upon com- tion. Then, they boarded the bus and hastily departed as we all right now? You see, you are not officially in the Air Force yet so pletion of our group humiliation and jostle through the sprinklers, Upon landing and disembarking at the gate, I walked down the stood quietly. Once the bus was out of sight, the only sound whatever happens right now is simply between us.” I quickly con- we had roughly fifteen seconds to brush our teeth before ordered hall and found a sign that read, “Air Force recruits proceed this amongst us was the buzz of lights hanging overhead which bathed templated my odds, which I found to be right about on par with into bed for lights out. way.” The sign directed me to other signs, which eventually led us all in an eerie orange glow. winning the lottery, marrying the Playboy playmate of the year, and me to a small staging and waiting area where numerous other punching out God. I intelligently chose to stay silent and stared I say lights out because nobody really slept that first night. The recruits tensely sat awaiting the unknown. The uncertainty of After a few minutes passed when I began to see some of those straight ahead. In the background, I could hear similar threats made hard, starchy sheets and scratchy gray woolen blankets reminded our collective decision to join the military was evident on the around me beginning to whisper, growing impatient as we to the other poor souls around me. The maniac took my silence as a me a little bit of the lining in the trunk of my Chevy Camaro back worried faces of everyone present. At around 10:30 p.m, after waited. Some even dared to glance about nervously to see what no, (which it definitely was) then he coldly made me aware that if I home in Minneapolis. Thankfully, I was a little older than most of all fresh recruits arrived, two military personnel in camouflage was coming next. I stood rigid, stone-faced, yet worriedly staring ever decided to take him up on his “offer” that he would abruptly the other recruits so as bad as things seemed, I knew it was all just uniforms promptly formed us into single file lines, then escorted forward, waiting. Then suddenly and without warning two steel end me on the spot. Much to my relief he suddenly noticed a young a mind game to weed out the weak. Unfortunately, not everyone us outside to waiting busses. doors behind me swung open and smacked the wall with a mighty man of middle-eastern descent to my left, jumped into his face and realized that truth. Consequently, I heard quite a few sobs and snif- crack. All at once, an ocean of barking and shouting voices erupted proceeded to bellow the question as to whether or not the poor kid fles in the night as I laid there in the darkness completely numb. around me as five men and one woman impeccably dressed in was actually the enemy. Almost frantically, they ran from recruit to full camouflage fatigues and round brimmed black hats abruptly Morning arrived at just about the same time I had finally managed recruit stopping only just a short of an inch of descended upon the group, all of them bellowing and yelling as I stood facing forward, silently listening to the barking, and shout- to close my eyes. However, what woke me was not the type of awak- our terrified faces. if in unison. These were our TI’s (training instructors) and they ing all around me, wondering exactly what awaited me next. After enings to which I was accustomed. There was no intoxicating aroma swarmed into us similar to wolves cutting into a herd of frenzied about ten minutes, the shouting quieted and the instructors divided of freshly frying bacon. No shine of dawn slowly seeping in through caribou. Almost frantically, they ran from recruit to recruit us into two groups of males and females. Then two of the instruc- my bedroom curtains. There was definitely not the warm feel of my The drivers did not speak to any single person and said only that stopping only just short of an inch of our terrified faces, barking tors quickly marched away with nearly half of the recruits in tow. girlfriend’s bare breasts against my back as she whispered that she everyone was to keep quiet, take a seat, and not leave it. After every- and shouting all the while. My recruiter had warned me that the One of the TI’s keeping a marching tempo by belting out a guttural wanted to fool around before the alarm went off. Instead, I awoke one was in a seat, one of the camouflaged men boarded my bus and first night was called “hell night” and it was officially underway. cadence of, “Step…left, right, left…step.” The three remaining TI’s to the sound of reveille, the military signal of morning, played from with a coldly indifferent tone said sternly, “Everyone put your heads ordered us into a single file line and led us into the building in front a trumpet. The recording blasted through speakers embedded in the down and do not look out of the windows.” Then, my heart grew A stocky, thickset man abruptly jumped in front of me and force- of which we stood. They repeatedly shouted, “Move!”, as we jogged cold and sank slightly as he followed his orders with, “We don’t fully inquired as to why “in the hell” I was on his blacktop outside up two flights of stairs and past a heavy, steel door with a small want anyone escaping from Basic and finding their way back to the of his barracks. I replied as my recruiter had instructed me to and latched window. Our bay, separated into four main rooms, spanned What woke me was not the type of awakenings airport.” As I rode along in silence, I stared at the black grooves in said confidently, “Sir, Airman Nash reports as ordered.” the entire length of the building. The two largest rooms housed row to which I was accustomed. the middle aisle and envisioned my girlfriend. I saw her wearing her upon row of steel framed bunk beds and single beds while the favorite tight pink pajamas, standing in our kitchen, smiling as she To which he shouted, “Airman?” His eyes bulging from behind other two main rooms were the latrines and a study room. Our TI’s asked me if I wanted any more dessert. The longing to be with her, gold-rimmed glasses, voice rinsing to crescendo, as he then blurted, hurriedly assigned beds according to where we stood in line at that walls, then instantly all of the ceiling lights in the bays switched back in the safety of my known world, nearly overwhelmed me as “You have not yet earned the right to call yourself airman in my particular moment. I paused at my bed, placing my bag on the on. Straight away, our TI’s were standing at the end of the bays and we finally arrived at the base. military son!” The TI then proceeded to place the hard brim of his floor, slowly breathing in what felt like the first breath I had taken barking at us to, “Get up, get up, get up!” They hastily ordered us razor straight black hat squarely upon the bridge of my nose. My in the last hour. I glanced around, observing the worn, tired, and to wash up and dress for the last time in the clothes we brought Though almost entirely shrouded in darkness, the drab and colorless eyes crossed as I transfixed on the small, gold, double looped, tassel mostly terrified young faces that were to be my bunkmates, neigh- with us. look of the structures that made up the base was still blaringly off of rope adorning the front of his hat. The ends of the golden tassels bors, and hopefully my military family. putting. The bus rolled to a stop in front of a squat, tawny colored hypnotically swung forward and back, softly bumping the space The specifics of the first day are somewhat of a blur to me as every- brick building where we were immediately hustled off with our sin- between my eyes as I unflinchingly stared straight ahead. My break was short lived as the training instructors once again thing happened so quickly. I remember being hustled through a gle overnight bags (though this was no sleepover) in tow. Solemn began shouting orders. We were all to strip down naked at our line for breakfast and only given around thirty seconds to eat it. I faced and deathly quiet, the other recruits, and I shuffled through a I did my best to stay calm in the face of this obvious lunatic, giving bunks, apply soap and shampoo to our dry skin and hair, and pre- remember instruction on the proper folding of a military bed using series of nondescript rooms where very businesslike uniformed per- the only response I knew was appropriate. “Sir, Airman Nash pare for showers. Thirty seconds later we were all naked as the day “hospital corners” to fold the ends. I certainly recollect marching sonnel called our names for accountability. few of the more terri- reports as ordered.” I repeated once again. My T.I. seemed to grow we were born and lined up in single file as we slowly proceeded to and standing for what seemed like hours outside of various build- fied recruits were far too quiet with their responses and promptly in size as he slowly stepped back a half of a foot, taking in the meas- snake our way to the showers. Since there were roughly sixty men ings. One of the buildings housed all our equipment, uniforms,

9 Realities, 2009: The Plunge Realities, 2009: The Plunge 10 and physical conditioning gear. The military personnel inside The first was an extremely quiet and mousy girl who attempted to The quickly distributed a pile of gear to us in proper sizes and demon- take her own life late one night upstairs in the girls shower. She had strated how to fit it all inside of a long green sack which resembled sharpened the metal edge of a ruler and horrifically used it to slice Collected Self a burrito when full. We filled the sacks, strapped them to our backs, her own wrist while everyone was asleep. I do not think she sliced and wobbled back outside for more standing and marching. through any arteries but nonetheless, we never saw her again. Another recruit that did not make it was a young man who I The most vivid recollection I have of that first day was also probably actually considered a friend and believed was doing just fine. Then, the quickest event, my haircut. The males were bustled into a room one day, right in front of me he lost control of his emotions and remember when I left my country to go to Sri Lanka, I felt so sad by Bisho Kirti Maharjan with five barbers chairs and piles of hair on the floor. Five barbers decided he wanted to throw wall lockers and flip beds all about the Iabout leaving. I thought I was going to miss my family, friends, stood behind the chairs with clippers buzzing eagerly in their hands. bay. The most memorable of those that failed to make graduation and relatives. My mom was crying when I was leaving. I couldn’t One by one, the TI’s hastily ordered the recruits down into open was a young Chicano man by the name of Jesus, who slept in a forget that image of my mom until I landed in Sri Lanka. I felt so chairs, and then unceremoniously, and in borderline malicious bunk only three beds away from me. He seemed like a very nice and strange because while there was a heavy rain outside, I was sweating fashion the barbers stripped us of all the hair on the tops of our well-mannered young man, making quite a few friends in the first inside the car. Then, I realized that Sri Lanka is a very hot country. heads. I winced as my barber roughly pulled the clippers above my three weeks. Then, one day while we were signing paperwork in an I remember when I saw an ocean for the first in my entire life; I ears and cleanly across my scalp. He paused halfway across the top administration building the military police arrived, placed him in was so amazed that I was gazing at it for a long time. I remembered of my head to clean his shears, leaving me staring at myself in a mir- handcuffs, and drove him away. Apparently, he had thus far slipped the lesson that I learned in my childhood school that three out four ror across the room with a half shaved head. I knew the intention of through the system, when finally someone discovered Jesus was an parts of the earth were covered with water. I played in the water basic training was to strip a recruit of individualism, to rebuild him actively wanted man for double homicide in Mexico City. However, for some time with my friends. After a year or two later, I went to anew as a soldier. Yet I still felt a shudder run through my body as I for the most part the weeks were relatively uneventful. To me it swim in the ocean. I also learned one more thing: the ocean’s water realized I was losing nearly all control over my personal choices for seemed as if the days simply melded into one another and time is salty. at least the next four years. The barber finished cleaning his shears became as nothing. There was only the expectation of proper and speedily completed his part in the small decimation of my iden- conduct and military bearing at all times. I also remember when I entered to the monastic school where I tity with four rough pulls across my scalp. I half wondered if he was was going to study. It was a big monastery where many monks going to continue feeding his sheers and go for my eyebrows next. Then, as abruptly as the program had begun, six weeks passed and lived there and studied the teachings of the Buddha. It was a big Thankfully, he did not. my military basic training was complete. The graduation ceremony and beautiful place covered with many trees. On my first day, I took place outdoors on a sunlit parade field under a glaring blue sky. went to pay my respects to all teacher monks with some gifts. Monotonous routines filled the majority of the days as basic As I marched across the parade field with my fellow airmen, dressed I also remember that I couldn’t understand what they were talking training got underway. I had plenty of sleepless nights, followed in full Air Force dress blues, I felt more alive and in control of my about because I didn’t know their language. by demanding morning exercises, hours of training in marching, life than I had ever dreamed possible. I took a chance, immersing mindless waiting, endless stacks of paperwork to sign, and received myself into a culture and world entirely unfamiliar to me. The I remember when I received a second position in a hand-writing far more immunizations than I thought there were diseases. The events of Basic followed by my successive four-year enlistment contest, I was very happy, and so was my teacher. I was able to days gradually began to get easier, and I spent the majority of my opened an entirely new avenue in my life, an avenue not available communicate with other monks in Sinhalese in a few months. time in silence as I became more accustomed to the routines and without my accepting of a culture other than my own. I also did all my tests in that language. stayed off our TI’s radars. Sadly, I did see my share of recruits that could not conform to the training as easily as I did three of which I I think these events happened in my life to make me who I am believed were kicked out completely from the military. today. So, I am happy about those events.

************** Rashad LaRue Nash is a student at North Hennepin Community College working on completing a Bachelor’s degree in Business Management. Born in south Minneapolis, Minnesota, he is the youngest of three children and was raised by a single mother on ************** welfare. Rashad dropped out of high school the day he turned 16, then, over a year later he went back to school and completed his Bisho Kirti Maharjan is a Buddhist monk from Nepal. He studied Buddhism in Sri Lanka, lived there for five years, and speaks diploma from Washburn High School. At the age of 20, he joined the United States Air Force where he learned to be a calibration Nepali, Newari, Sinhalese, Pali, and some Hindi. He has been in America for four years and has completed two years at North metrologist. He served two years at Luke Air Force Base in Arizona. He then finished the remainder of his enlistment overseas at Hennepin Community College. Royal Air Force Base Lakenheath outside of Cambridge, England. Rashad was honorably discharged from the USAF and remained in England to travel in Europe for a total of seven years before returning to Minneapolis in 2007. He currently works for Minneapolis based Medtronic with hopes of someday becoming an executive manager within the company.

11 Realities, 2009: The Plunge Realities, 2009: The Collected Self 12 New Perspective Perspective New by Michelle Hanson How to Accept Newneby Liuba Kazaryan

ach and every one of us encounters a new experience daily. I also couldn’t believe how intelligent they were. It’s not that I think E Some are good, and some are bad. It’s how we learn and grow people from other countries cannot be smart, but I was just amazed emember when you came to the U.S. A. from them that help shape who we are today. I’ve been fortunate at how educated they were and how they take their education R How frightened and excited you had been. enough to have had a lot of experiences with different cultures that seriously, not for granted. I think I was also surprised to learn that have shown me how to look at life with a new perspective. One Turkey has a good school system, which definitely explained how How this big change was difficult to comprehend of the experiences that I remember the most has to do with my intelligent the girls were. Once I started talking more with the girls, And you were feeling lost, like you landed on the planet chaos. encounters with two Turkish girls from Turkey. Their names are I learned that they were going to college in Minnesota. I can’t even Rabiha and Halise. imagine going off to a brand new country and having to learn in a Remember when homesickness was your long path. different language than what you’re used to. I admired the girls’ You left your home, you left your friends, but it was not the end – I first met Rabiha and Halise at my neighbor’s cottage on Lake bravery and courage because I don’t think that I could go to a It was a new beginning for your American living. Michigan. My neighbors invited Rabiha, Halise, and myself to brand new country and go to school that has a language different Your destiny brought you here to find your own idea of your life’s purpose. stay with them at their cottage on Lake Michigan. My first from mine. impressions of the girls were that they seemed really nice. When Remember when a language barrier kept you apart from other people. Halise and Rabiha first greeted me, I was blown away with how Having more and more conversations with the girls helped me see It was like a heavy burden holding you back. good their English was. The girls spoke English as if it were their how their life is back in Turkey. The girls made some meals, which To succeed in your life you need more than good luck native language. were really good. I liked learning how in Turkey they start preparing You have to have courage and strive to get the best result. for supper in the morning and that they also don’t use measuring cups. They just put in the amount of the ingredient that they think Remember when you got to college I’ve been fortunate enough to have had a lot the meal needs. What’s so cool about that is that they just know Your journey has begun. of experiences with different cultures that how much of this or that to put into the meal, and how they take You opened a door for your achievements and planned happily have shown me how to look at life with a their time preparing dinner. Our vacation ended way too soon. I To get knowledge, skills, and wisdom; and be a student number one. wanted to talk more with the girls, but, even so, I was amazed by new perspective. how much I learned from them in a short time. Remember when you just came to the U.S.A….. How many days ago you were different, without a clue I will always be thankful for what Halise and Rabiha taught me; How many things you can do! Be proud of yourself and know that you are special! Once I started talking more to the girls, I couldn’t believe all of they probably didn’t even realize at the time that they were teaching And remember this last annotation. things that we had in common. We had all seen The Karate Kid, me. I’m so glad that all of the experiences that I experienced with enjoyed swimming in the water, laying on the beach, and reading. them will never be forgotten. They taught me about the culture in I know it sounds dumb, but I just assumed that because they were Turkey, but more importantly they taught me that there literally is from another country that they wouldn’t do a lot of the same things more than meets the eye. I can’t wait until the next time that I see that I did. It was a pleasant and unexpected surprise that we all had them because I have a lot to talk about with them. a lot of the same interests. ************** Liuba Kazaryan was born in Latvia and came to the United States in 2001. At that time she had never thought that she would ever find her home here. Currently, she is married and has a one-year old girl, whose name is Stephanie Angel. Liuba is a student at North Hennepin Community College and Bethel University, where she is pursuing a degree in Business Management. Her hobbies are photography, reading, and cooking. She loves to find beauty in everything. ************** Michelle Hanson is of Norwegian and Irish decent, but she was born in the United States of America and has lived in Minnesota her whole life. She was a PSEO student at North Hennepin Community College last year and is currently a freshman here, and she loves it. She speaks English and knows some Spanish.

13 Realities, 2009: New Perspective Realities, 2009: How to Accept Newness 14 Filling the Heart Anew by Patricia Weisman

used to spend every hot summer afternoon at the beach, the Before I left the beach, I searched for seashells. I collected them by Ibeach of my childhood. It was located in Lima, Peru. Its name sizes and colors. The pretty ones were to make necklaces and the big was “Agua Dulce,” which means sweet water, and it sweetens as my ones to take them home so that I could place them in my ear to memories still. listen to the sound of the sea breeze one more time. I also remember playing with my brothers digging a deep hole in the sand encourag- The images of those sweet moments project in my mind like a ing each other to find which one of us would be brave enough to movie. The images of those sunsets reveal in front of me “the waves lie down while the others would bury us with sand. The rule was bathing the horizon.” The same horizon was witness of my first always the same; head and toes facing outside. When the piece of art swimming lessons, sand castles contests, sunbathing, swimming was done, we would run to our mom to ask her to see it so we could races or sand-fighting with my brothers. impress her. When the sunset arrived and most of the people were gone, I would grab a stick and start writing my name in the sand. Always writing Patty with capital P, hoping the waves would not The images of those sweet moments erase it until the next day. Our visits to the beach were almost daily. project in my mind like a movie. It was a special and important part of our vacation.

One of the best memories of the beach was of me sitting on the The years haven’t erased from my memory the feeling of the sun sand to contemplate the sunset: the orange-yellow sun sinking in

shining on my face, its sunrays tanning my body, warming every the horizon saying to us good-night. Every time before we would

inch of me. But when I wanted to cool off, I entered the cool, leave, we walked to the port to buy fresh fish. The best complement a refreshing inviting ocean water. There I could dance with the water after a day at the beach was to finish eating fried fish for dinner. at the tunes of the waves feeling the sea breeze surrounding me, | listening to the laughter of the people playing Frisbee, being happy, The years have passed, and now my family and I frequently visit being on the beach. When I wanted to rest, I laid down on the sand Lake Calhoun, having always in mind to continue with the same Settling In carpet, ate ice cream, and waited for the sunset to arrive. tradition: have fun, swim, and enjoy the sunset.

************** Patricia Weisman migrated to the United States when she was 21 years old to live the American dream. Her parents are Peru, so her native language is Spanish. She lived in Chicago for over a decade and visited many countries in Europe. She graduated as a Licensed Practical Nurse. This is her second semester attending North Hennepin Community College, for she wants to fulfill her dream of becoming a Registered Nurse.

Realities, 2009: Filling the Heart Anew 16 The Thing IMiss the Most am not a U.S. citizenship or a permanent alien resident. I am only here by Kevin Tillman Ibecause my family and I are under a Work Authorization card from the U.S. Immigration Department of Homeland Security. My family and I hope have been living in Minnesota for the past 18 years and are still working through the immigration department to live in America. My parents have springs gone through all the necessary and appropriate procedures to apply for a innesota is a nice and somewhat quiet state for my taste. Like read, because once the L travels underground, one could not get permanent resident card and have still not been able to get one after a many states, it has a steady and growing population. I really radio reception. M decade of patiently waiting. We are a hard-working family that has done no do enjoy the summertime here when in the early months of May eternal crime or cheated the government the past long years and only want to call one can see the lilac bushes in full bloom, with their purple scented I arrived in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in 2003; I had a car and still the U.S. our home. We pay our taxes and give to our communities. How- flowers bursting everywhere; I really do enjoy when on a hot and have one. The Light Rail was still a work in progress, and like any if you ever, we are considered stateless in the eyes of the U.S. department and windy days one can catch the slight, but pleasant smell that is emit- big city dweller, I wanted to know where their L system was located. have nowhere to go. Long story short, we are desperately fighting to stay in ted from these flowers. The smell in a sense takes away, or at least Much to my surprise I found out that once the Light Rail was the U.S. and not be deported to a country I do not call home. lessens, the car exhaust fumes that I have come to associate with completed it would stretch from Bloomington, Minnesota, to keep Chicago or any big city for that matter. Living in a big city such as downtown Minneapolis, and that was it. I have taken the Light Rail As a child, we were always cautious of what we did. My father always Chicago, one seems to forget the beauty that nature has to offer. a few times, and I am very much impressed, but what I am not so a bounce warned us to be careful because everything we do can cost us chances of Beauty in a city such as Chicago is composed of massive skyscrapers impress by is the short amount of distance it covers. But with great living in the U.S.A. We always knew that he was right, so we were good such as the Sears Tower, which is set for a name change in a few excitement, I have found out that the Light Rail is adding a new kids, my five other siblings and me. Growing up, we didn’t do the normal months, or taking slight slices of nature such as Grant Park, located addition named the Northstar Rail in 2009, and it will go from Big in your things kids or teenagers did because we were afraid of our actions. We felt in downtown Chicago. However, I had lived in Chicago for nine- Lake to downtown Minneapolis. as if we were prisoners being guarded day and night. We couldn’t go to the teen years of my life, and considering that, there are just some store when we wanted to because if we were pulled over by the cops or things that a fellow Chicagoan will always miss. step Living in a big city such as Chicago, one seems there was an accident, that meant a possible ticket on my parents’ record and that would not look good before a judge. We never really complained The red line as I remember back then stretches from 95th and Dan to forget the beauty that nature has to offer. because we knew my parents only wanted the best for us. They worked Ryan expressway, located on Chicago south side to the suburb of hard and long minimum wage hours to support and save for all the immi- Evanston located on Chicago north side, and the blue line goes by Patchia Carrie Yang gration fees for a family of eight. from Forrest Park located on Chicago west side from the suburb of Minnesotans are hesitant about this because there will probably be Forrest Park to O’Hare airport, located on Northwest side of the an increase in taxes, but I have come to say that we need not be city. I can recall many cold and blistering days when I would travel concern so much about the tax increase that will result from this I tell all my friends to appreciate how essential from the L stop of Morse, located on the red line on the north side new endeavor, but rejoice in the fact of how this new addition will being a U.S. citizen is because it truly is a gift. where I lived at the time and switch off or at least travel under- increase in the commerce and conversation that will become of ground at the L stop located at Jackson and State and hop on the suburban dweller conversing with city dwellers on the Northstar, blue line which would drop me off at the L stop of Western, and and vice versa; they will each be able to explain the complexities of When we all reached high school, as seniors, we should have been ecstatic walk about a mile east to Crane Tech Prep Common High school, living in the city and suburbs, and how it is that they navigate about college searching, but we were not. We knew the obstacles that we which was the school I attended and from which I was graduated. around the city using this new edition. More importantly, their would face in finding scholarships that would not help non-citizens or I can also remember that on days when I was really tired and children will also be able to recall how the train system enriched non-permanent residents. It was tough to see us one by one endlessly hopped on the L how it served as a rocking cradle and cradled me to their lives as the L system in Chicago enriched mine. How it cradled searching for anything that we could possibly qualify for, but slowly only sleep many times, and I either missed my destination or woke up them to sleep on cold, blistery days in Minnesota, how the college to find another disappointment. I knew we had to find alternatives when right on time to get off at my destination. It was also on the L that I kids from St. Cloud took advantage of time to read and study for my guidance counselor and college advisor could not find anything that discovered how to make use of my time and would usually read a their exams, and how they watched the Minneapolis or St. Paul sky- could help. There were certain colleges that I had dreamed about attend- book or homework assignment on my way to school or from school. scrapers fade into the distance as they make their long trek home. ing, but I couldn’t go to them because we would have to pay out-of-state At the time, Oprah was beginning her book club, so if she had an tuition due to our legal status. How was I supposed to pay for the tuition interesting book selection that month, that is what I would usually when I did not even qualify for the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) or student loans? It was extremely tough to have worked so ************** hard to not have the choice of school I had wanted to go to. Although I Kevin Tillman is originally from Chicago and has lived in Minnesota for over six years. He has been at North Hennepin Community was disappointed, I had the motivation to continue doing my absolute best College for five of those years. in school for my parents and me. If my parents could work so hard all

17 Realities, 2009: The Thing I Miss the Most Realities, 2009: Hope Springs Eternal if you Keep a Bounce in Your Step 18 those struggling years, I at least could finish school doing my very best. I eventually graduated with top honors and ranked in the top 30’s of my class. I was always proud and determined to continue, e Language I Lea knowing I could make the best out of my situation. Although I The Language I Learned Abroad couldn’t take out student loans or qualify for assistance from the by Anthony Kiekow government, I told myself I would succeed.

Attending NHCC was a great opportunity that I have seized. I am currently paying tuition with my own money and excited to see where the road takes me. I tell all my friends to appreciate how ach student who is fortunate enough to study abroad is privy In response to this situation, I decided to embrace my uniqueness essential being a U.S. citizen is because it truly is a gift. I get Eto an eye-opening experience that can have a profound impact and put it on display for all to see rather than isolate myself for a extremely upset to hear those that are citizens not vote or take on one´s life. This was definitely the case for me this past fear of my differences not being accepted by the other students. In advantage of the many programs and opportunities that can assist summer, when I spent nine weeks studying language and culture doing so, I was able to flourish both academically and socially. them in their lives. Many people take it for granted, but I never in Cuernavaca, Mexico. would. I would give anything to finalize our current situation and begin a new start in our home country of the United States. As a black man attending a predominantly white university, I am a Each student who is fortunate enough to study minority, but because I am also a father, a 27-year-old undergradu- abroad is privy to an eye-opening experience that ate student, and a high school drop-out, I am also a minority within can have a profound impact on one´s life. the minority. In the past, these differences have had a negative im- pact on my social and academic interactions with other students. However, over time I learned how to deal with my differences and ************** function within the collegiate world by isolating myself. I learned that displaying one’s authentic self in any and all situations Patchia Carrie Yang has been a part time student at North Hennepin Community College for the past three years, pursuing an can be a fantastic learning experience for all involved. I also learned Associate degree. She hopes to finish in a year and transfer to Metropolitan State University. She is also a mother of a three-year old girl named Sophia and works as a senior teller at a local community bank. She is from the Hmong culture and was born in France But while studying abroad my ability to isolate myself was non-exis- how to view my uniqueness for what it truly is, an asset that I and moved to the U.S. when she was four years old. Originally from Thailand, her parents have successfully raised a family of eight. tent. When I arrived in Mexico I faced an all too familiar situation. should wear like a badge of honor. Her parents are in the process of buying their first home this spring and are ecstatic. In my class, not only was I the oldest student and an ethnic minor- ity, I was also the only student in the class who was a father and the At the onset of my summer studying abroad, I wanted to learn to high-school drop-out. a second language, Spanish. I accomplished that. But to my surprise and subsequent delight, I learned a third language as well, the In the past I sought out relationships with individuals who have had language of self acceptance. experiences similar to mine, but because of the language barrier and being thousands of miles away from home, I was forced to integrate with the other students in my class despite our many differences.

************** Anthony Keikow is a 28-year-old father of one. Though he did not graduate from high school, he eventually received a G.E.D. and now a B.A. in journalism. He has lived in Minnesota all his life, except for three months in Washington, DC and two in Mexico. He speaks Spanish and loves to write. He hopes to become a news reporter and an author and travel the world.

19 Realities, 2009: Hope Springs Eternal if you Keep a Bounce in Your Step Realities, 2009: The Language I Learned Abroad 20 Another Dinner at Mom’s House

by Erin Rae Donovan

ow listen, boy, people ain’t always gonna’ know you done hardened that every time I pass the stop at Highway 41 I actually “Nsomething if you done it right.” My mom's cigarette hear mom blurting, “That's where I flipped over the Caprice stained voice was bellowing at Evan this time. Mom sat in her easy Classic, right there, right over there, don't you remember that?” She chair, the cushion imprint forged by twenty years of cable T.V. The always points at that legendary corner with her whole arm swinging house furniture layout was an artifact that archaeologists could re- as our car turns the opposite way. This isn't just for guests, oh no. construct with only carpet depressions and wallpaper stains. I felt Mom repeats this every time we pass that corner and she won't stop Evan’s wide eyes on me, looking to me more than at me. until someone in the car agrees that he or she remembers. When Mom's the one driving, her swinging arm is downright terrifying. “Where’s my keys,” I ask out loud. Evan's telepathic eyeballs non- verbally seek me as an ally in his defense. He pleads for any cue that When you hear the term “historical home,” what picture pops into I’m a silent witness to the terrible abuses my mom inflicts upon your mind? I see an ornate country or Victorian style home with a him. Evan dislikes his new chores. freshly painted wraparound porch. In the window stands a pretty Mom in apron serving a steaming roast beef to her smiling family “I took out the trash and she didn’t even say thanks, then she while tall and handsome Dad sharpens his knives. My mom's house, expects me to shovel the sidewalk,” Evan says abruptly. in contrast, was built in 1897 out of two stacked steamboats that were ancient even at that time. On top of that, the home was origi- “Damn boy needs a medal of honor for every little....,” shrieks Mom nally built as merely a temporary shelter! Many of the homes in his-

from the living room. I interrupt both of them and bolt towards the torical downtown Carver are anomalies of the past and share similar

door, “Love you both, I’m off to class, and Evan, you’re a survivor”. stories. Most are in need of modern renovations so that people can a Late again, I sit down in the back row with the other parents. The “Now listen, boy, people ain’t always gonna’ instructor's still fumbling with the projector remote, narrating his know you done something if you done it right.” | key presses to the class. “The roads are bad, I don't think this town ever heard of a plow,” murmurs Beverly, a super-mom with five kids The Culture more than me. I slip my copy of our lab report onto her notebook, comfortably live in them today. When the external siding timbers tap her arm, and lean forward to point at some numbers. “I can't needed replacement, the historic registry people finally approved get the right thing here for the solubility stats.” My biology work- the use of stucco over the outside of the house only because it had of Family sheet was written by Dr. Seuss. Did the author just make up the become apparent that Mom was never going to afford hard wood. words? Unconscious that I had even asked a question, Beverly For ten years now Mom has been battling to gain approval for any points her freshly manicured finger, “There, the 2's supposed to be style car garage plan that would fit within the parameters of the an 8.” Memories from last week’s lab return rapidly, the same way I prestigious historical status. Last week the weight of snow on the left my mom's house. This semester my mind needs more time to carriage house finally caved in the roof. Like her home, my mom adjust from work to home and then school. The long drive time only changes when the pressures are too great. helps me to organize my thoughts. In front of mom's house I hear, “Captain Morgan, drink responsi- The roads from North Hennepin Community College back to bly,” booming from the T.V. The volume stretches all the way out mom's house in Carver, Minnesota, have pot holes, abandoned past the curb and into the street where it molests my ears. The summer road construction, and plenty of opportunities to drive off aroma of Mom's special roast chicken with sage stuffing also finds a cliff. I am serene. As treacherous as the roads are, a silence expands its way to me, but this sensation is welcome. I jingle my key in the and contracts my memory like a muscle. A particular memory is so lock, but it won't turn, and the heavy cranky door won't budge.

Realities, 2009: Another Dinner at Mom’s House 22 by Sherri Morgan

Did mom change the locks on me, again? She has several different those who do not know her. Evan is still getting to know her. deadbolts that she interchanges every few months, and she makes According to some nosy neighbors, “She's a horrible person and she Shadows of Abuse me give her the old key. She'll gladly give me the “new” key only never shuts up,” but I know mom just doesn't know any better. when I concede to how wrong I was in our last argument. Naturally, Shadows ofAbuse I have copies of all of the different keys safely stashed in the trunk of Mom's voice is loud and clear all the way upstairs from the kitchen, my car. The key I have is the right one and still the bolt won't turn. “Evan, come set the table and wash up for dinner!” Evan complains, he screams of my name woke me from my deep and Aunt and Uncles. I spent most of my time at my Grandparents’. “I can't get it open,” Evan's muffled voice sounds desperate, as if he “Oh man, I have to do everything,” while I gather the dirty laundry dreamless sleep… I loved to follow my Grandpa around all day. I guess not all day, he were the one locked in, instead of me being locked out. “Get Mom from his new room. I murmur to Evan, “She tells you to do chores T got up way earlier than I was willing to. I would just catch up with OK,” I instruct him in my most delicate tone as if he were still a that she knows you can complete on your own. She spent several It was late-summer and my parents let me and my best friend sleep him when I did get out of bed. I remember him telling me that I toddler. At 11 years old Evan's almost as tall as me but with larger hours making her special chicken recipe for us. We need to help out, in the tent trailer parked in the upper level of the backyard. It was was sleeping the day away when I would sleep until 9:00 a.m. puppy-like hands and feet. It deeply saddens me to think about a too.” Evan turns to me with his head down and quietly says, “But not only a rare privilege for me to be allowed to sleep in the tent daily life without him, and sometimes I wish he were Peter Pan. If it she's so mean to me, she hates me.” This was my cue that I had trailer, but this had the added benefit of a friend sleeping over. I was able to do things with him that I couldn’t do anywhere else. were up to my Mom Evan would have a job by now. been deferring a much needed conversation with my son. I put my My favorite memory with him was the year Dutch Elm disease arms around Evan and gently remind him, “Oh honey, Grandma I remember thinking this will probably be the last time though. claimed so many of the trees in their grove. My Grandpa would use “Grandma's in the bathroom,” Evan yells through the heavy door loves you, but she has a funny way of showing it. She doesn't think the chainsaw to cut part way through the tree, wrap a chain around as he continues to jingle the deadbolt. My mom never had a room before she speaks, like you do, Evan. Sometimes you have to admit It was a warm calm night, and it had been a hot, muggy day. My it and then give me the signal to drive the tractor that was attached of her own, so she would spend hours alone in the bathroom. that you push her buttons.” Softly, he replies, “I know I push it dad had set up the tent trailer to air it out and made sure we had all to the other end of the chain. I was only 9 years old. As children, we never knocked on Father's locked bedroom door, sometimes.” The scent of the sage and herbs from dinner makes me the supplies we would need for the camping trip our family was but we would pound our fists on the bathroom door. When mom even hungrier. taking the coming weekend. Well, I guess not the whole family. My When I was on the farms, I didn’t have the same worries I had back finally emerged, my brother and I would actually be happy to listen little brother was spending his summer on my Aunt and Uncle’s in the city. I was more relaxed and had more fun. I would go to the to her say, “I love you,” over and over and over again while she As Evan sets the table and sits down in his chair, mom leans over to farm. Their farm was in Darfur, miles from the “civilization” that small-town baseball games with Grandpa and eat hot dogs and any- drunkenly cried and said, “sorry.” Suddenly, the front door swings share her secret with him, “Don't tell your mom but I have a slice of we knew. thing else I wanted. It was rare for Grandpa to say no to things like open and there stands mom drying her wet hands while a cigarette chocolate cake saved for you, and I'll let you eat it and watch that that. He would let me do his hair anyway I wanted. Of course the hangs from her wrinkled lips. She looks soberly at me and states, Sponge Bill cartoon you like so much.” Evan swiftly corrects her, Alfalfa look was a favorite of mine. We spent so many hours in his “I missed my meeting tonight watching your son, and I can't miss “Sponge Bob, Grandma, Sponge Bob, God how many times do I I was awoken from my sound yet dreamless machine shed… I loved the scent of his machine shed, and I can my meetings.” Mom recently earned her one year key chain from have to tell you.” I interrupt Evan with a head nod that he so sleep by those piercing and terrifying shrieks. still smell it today. alcoholics anonymous. begged for earlier today. Mom blurts, “See, he doesn't respect any- thing anyone does for him,” as she reaches over me for the pepper We had three cousins there, one the same age as my younger brother. Grandpa had cancer though. He died when I was 11. Maybe that’s Moving back in to mom's home was not an easy decision, but shaker. Cheerfully, Evan's voice interrupts mom's, “I'm sorry, Those two were tight and, even at only 9 years old, worked hard on one of the reasons I quit going to the farm. I knew it wouldn’t be it's the best thing for all three of us to be able to take care of one Grandma, I love you.” Contemplatively, he places his dark sea blue the farm. They also raised a lot of hell out there, most of which was the same without my grandpa. another. Mom has never been the type of person to make excuses, eyes on my darker browns. I struggle to hold back the tears with a never found out about by anyone. However, it was kinda hard for and she doesn't accept them either. She never experienced the quiet very audible gulp of milk. I hadn't heard my mother say, “I love them to hide the “silo incident.” Those two little shits were taking * * * drive home from school or the inspiration that comes from learning. you, I’m sorry” since I was a little girl waiting for her to emerge loose blocks out of the bottom of the silo, no sooner had they The bottle was her escape as studying is mine. My mom is an inspi- from the bathroom, drunk. Today these words came sweetly and walked away, and the whole damn thing collapsed to the ground in Since the tent trailer was set up and all the gear had been accounted ration to me because she overcame her addiction for the benefit of soberly from mom's lips, “I'm sorry Evan, I love you, too.” a pile of rubble. “Lucky they weren’t killed,” my Uncle said. for, I thought no sense in wasting the set up. Maybe Mom and Dad our family. Evan is confused by my behavioral changes and my will let me and a friend sleep in here tonight. I was pretty sure I mom's changes because I used to tell him to ignore her when she Now that I was 14, my farming days were behind me, I wanted to knew what the answer would be what it usually was… no. I asked was drunk. Now I encourage him to respect her wishes. Mom is a spend my summers hanging out with my friends. my Dad, and he gave me his most famous response, “Ask your good natured woman, but her lack of manners can be offensive to Mother.” Even though I was sure how this would play out, I next Looking back, I think my Grandpa and Grandma’s farm, as well as asked my Mom, again a typical response, “Ask you father.” ************** my Aunt and Uncle’s, were a “safe haven” from the realities of life Erin Donovan is a part-time medical lab tech student at North Hennepin Community College and currently a full-time personal care back in Minneapolis. They were also two of the very few places that “But he said to ask you.” In a long sigh she said, “I guess.” assistant for a lovely elderly woman. When she was in high school, she found out that she was pregnant and decided to keep the baby, kept sanity in my life. Granted, we didn’t know that at the time, we thereby becoming a high school dropout. Though life has not been easy as a single mom, she has a new found hope now because she just knew it was “good to get away” for a while every summer. I added a quick, “OK” and ran off to ask my friend before either knows that she will have a great career in the medical testing field. Going back to school has immensely increased her confidence. No had a chance to change their mind. one in her family has attended college, and when she gets her Associate degree, she will be the first person in her family to graduate My Grandparents’ farm was in Comfrey, and only 5 miles from my My best friend lived on the same block as we did, so I ran to her from anywhere at all. Her plan is to complete a Bachelor’s degree in medical testing with a minor in biology. house and asked her if she could sleep over in the tent trailer. I

23 Realities, 2009: Another Dinner at Mom’s House Realities, 2009: Shadows of Abuse 24 already knew she would be able to. Her parents almost always My brother is one year older than I am and the only kid in the I have since wondered if I pissed him off bad enough that he now that their four kids, ages 8 to 15, were older now. They would agreed to any sleepovers. I told her to come over about 6:00 p.m. family my dad seemed to pick on. We never really knew why, but actually wanted to hurt me or if he admired my bravery. Up drink too much, argue too much and there would be physical because I knew my family would be done with dinner and chores my Dad was just meaner to him than he was to the rest of us. until that moment not one of his four kids would have dared altercations way too much. After seeing the way my Dad acted by then. to disobey him, let alone actually stand up to him, not even once I was in the room I realized if I was there the physical bullshit I came up beside my older brother and stopped next to him. I me. In all my years growing up, and in fact, until my parents wouldn’t happen. Around 6 o’clock she knocked on the door, and we sat out on the looked up at him as he was a couple of inches taller than me. I saw divorced when I was 14, there had been only three times where front steps to plan our little camp-out in the back yard. Since my he had a look of horror on his face and he was in tears. I knew for my Dad had been challenged by one of his kids. Each and every But that’s too much responsibility for a 13-year-old girl. Mom was against “feeding the neighborhood” we decided to walk sure my parents were in the living room just around the corner and time it was me doing the challenging. to the local Thom Thumb, and with our money made from babysit- down the hall from where I now stood. From the sounds I heard So I took it upon myself to make sure the beatings didn’t continue, ting buy snacks. Our snacks of choice were a bag of chips, a few coming toward me, I knew what the calls for help were all about. I walked down the short hallway and into the living room. My or at least as much as I could. When my parents went out I would candy bars, grape Bubble Yum, and Pepsi. When we got back to my It is right at that moment I heard my Dad say something I will mom had sat up by then and I went to sit beside her. She was crying sleep on the couch. Actually, I didn’t really sleep, I would lie on the house we took our pillows, blankets, and the games we wanted to never forget. He yelled in our direction, “Come out of that room and wiping her face with her hand, mascara running down her couch pretending to be asleep so my Dad wouldn’t hit my Mom. I play out to the tent trailer. and I’ll kill you.” cheeks. I knew that as long as I stayed by her the pounding would did this nearly every weekend, not because they would argue every not continue. weekend but because you never knew which night would have the I was so ready for a fun evening and sleep over, not to mention we I can still hear it, in his voice, in my head today. Strangely, I felt one-sided boxing matches. More than once I would lie there faking were going to have the sleep over in the tent trailer! This would strong, unafraid and determined. With a quick look toward my a deep sleep but actually lying quietly, intently listening to their mean we could stay up as late as we wanted without having to brother that said “I got this”, I stepped out into the hallway. I jumped up and flew out the door of the hushed argument taking place in the kitchen. I would listen to worry about being quiet or having my older brother or her two tent trailer... my best friend followed me make sure the words and the occasional breaking glass, didn’t turn brothers bothering us. But that’s way too much responsibility for a 12-year-old girl. out into the night. into a slap or a punch. It never did. I finally found a way to keep the beatings from happening. As the light dimmed outside, we fired up the kerosene lantern You see, I was always my dad’s favorite, and I knew he wouldn’t so our game of Spades wouldn’t be interrupted. Spades was our hurt “Daddy’s little girl”, and like I said, my older brother got But that’s too much responsibility for a 12-year-old girl. But that’s too much responsibility for a 13-year-old girl. favorite way to pass the time. Now don’t get me wrong, we also picked on by my Dad way too often. It would not have been a spent plenty of time eating the chips and candy, drinking Pepsi, and good thing for him to have stepped out. My Dad didn’t say a word to me but I could tell he was extremely The point of all of this is how I knew what the screams of “Sherrrri- obviously, talking. Talking about school, friends, and who was doing pissed off. He just kept pacing back and forth. I didn’t know what iii!… Sherrrriiii!… Sherrrriiii!” meant when I was awaken from my what with whom… and of course, the topic of boys came up. Now, don’t get me wrong, all four of us kids were afraid of my Dad. to expect next, but I knew something was going to happen. I had dreamless sleep in the tent trailer. I jumped up and flew out the The big threat in our house was always “wait til your Dad gets never seen my Dad this mad in my life. He went into the kitchen, door of the tent trailer. Unlike my sister a few years before, my best We were having a great time and were up until well after midnight. home.” Sometimes it would even bring tears and a pleading got himself a cup of coffee and came back into the living room and friend followed me out into the night. We turned off the lantern, and I was quickly deep asleep, until… “noooo.” When we did something wrong we knew we could always stood at the front door looking out into the yard. The front door expect blows with the belt. had been open this whole time. I am sure some, if not most, of our The voices were coming from the front yard. We ran across the The screams of my name, “Sherrrriiii!… Sherrrriiii!… Sherrrriiii!” neighbors had been awaken by the screams of “Sherrrriiii!… Sher- backyard, around the north side of the house and into the front I was awoken from my sound yet dreamless sleep by those piercing It even got to a point were the hits with the belt didn’t hurt rrriiii!… Sherrrriiii!” yard. When we got there I could see three people: my Mom, my and terrifying shrieks. It was my mom’s voice and it was clear that anymore, unless of course it was on the bare skin… damn, now Dad and the lady who lived across the street. she was in trouble. I was also pretty sure I knew what the trouble that hurts!!! Thankfully, a bare skin beating was a rare occasion. My Dad stood at the front door and I could tell he was absolutely would be as I had heard these screams just a few years before. fuming! I kept watching him waiting for what he was going to do I had done some babysitting for the lady across the street. It was In that self-defining moment, I stepped out into the “L” shaped next. Well, I didn’t have to wait long. He launched the steaming hot actually her parent’s house, but they had moved to Hawaii a couple When I heard those screams the first time, I jumped out of bed, hallway, took two more steps and turned the corner toward the coffee out of his cup onto my Mom’s back. She sat up straighter, years before, so she lived in their house with her two kids. She was a surprised my sister in the bed next to mine wasn’t doing the same. living room. That is when I saw a scene that is forever burned into arched her back and let out a short scream. She began to cry harder prostitute. Before moving here, she lived in an apartment further my memory. My Mom was lying on her back on the couch, my again and I rushed to get a towel to try to get the hot coffee off of away from my house. When I babysat for her there, she would have Our bedroom, which was the attic, had been made into a single Dad was over her. He had one leg kneeling on the couch and one her back. her pimp drive me home. He always drove real nice cars, and they large room running the length of the house. I darted across our with his foot on the floor. With one hand tightly grasping her neck, always reeked of marijuana, but he was never inappropriate with room and torpedoed down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs he was drawing the other back, in a tight fist, ready to punch her in The satisfaction of hurting her one more time must have been me. I also never told my parents that it was the pimp that drove me was the bedroom both of my two brothers shared. I had to cross the face. The sounds I had heard standing back in the doorway with enough to calm him down because right after that my Dad went to home for a number of reasons: first, because I needed the babysit- through their small room to get out into the hallway that leads to my brother had been the sounds of my Dad beating the shit out of bed. Mom told me I should get back to bed on her way to her bed. ting money, second, because I knew what my Dad would do to him the living room, which is where I anticipated my mom was going to my Mom. He must have seen me out of the corner of his eye be- The next morning we went on with life as normal (well normal for if he even looked funny at me, and, finally, because both of my par- be. When I got to my brothers’ room, I saw my older brother stand- cause he didn’t land that last punch, and he got up off her. us anyway) and until now, this incident has never been mentioned. ents would have put an end to my babysitting for her. ing in the doorway. My parents drank a lot. They would go out almost every weekend

25 Realities, 2009: Shadows of Abuse Realities, 2009: Shadows of Abuse 26 Sometimes, when the prostitute and the pimp would get home, I Something I have always wondered, as I look back over the years, is the meaning of could tell she had been hit in the face. She would be crying with why none of the neighbors called the police. I guess it wouldn’t mascara streaming down her bruised face. So she was no stranger have done much good since I don’t think my Mom would have ever to what my Mom was going through. So there they were, the three pressed charges and back then she would have had to for any of them, in my front yard. My Dad was standing at the bottom charges to be filed. of the front steps, the prostitute from across the street standing Life Herbst Kelly by behind him and my Mom at the top of the steps holding a huge I still don’t understand why abused women stay in those types of knife swinging it at my Dad. That knife must have had a 10-inch abusive relationships. I know some say they stay for love, others for blade on it! A proud day in our family history: my parents on the financial reasons, and others claim to be there “for the kids.” To me front steps, in the middle of the night, Mom swing a knife at Dad the math is fuckin’ simple: if your partner is abusing you, then they and yelling at each other at the top of their lungs for the whole don’t love you. After that, it is all just details and bullshit. How can neighborhood to hear. being broke be worse than being beat? There are many organizations y life was torn. I didn’t know who to turn to or talk to. The My mom often struggles to understand why I always want to come out in the community to help the parent move out and move on. Monly people that I completely trusted were going through the up to her camper up north in the summertime. “It’s got wheels The moment I turned the corner of the house and this scene came People who will help the abused get back on their feet so they can same thing that I was. The news came on a late January evening. under it,” she’ll say. She wonders why I wouldn’t rather be at my into my view, my heart sank. I did not fuckin’ want this! I had an be independent and their children can be safe. My parents were getting a divorce. I was mad and upset. How could dad’s large cabin on a lake with other expensive cabins. awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. The feeling you get when that many years and all those memories just be boxed up and you know something bad is about to happen, you don’t want it to If you are staying “for the kids” or if you have kids and are in an thrown away like they were disposable? I was young. I did not un- happen but you can’t do anything to stop it from happening. I was abusive relationship, then what message are you sending to your derstand marriage. I knew nothing of relationships and what it Life is not about what you have and what you want fuckin’ pissed off that I was being forced to deal with this bullshit… kids? Aren’t you actually doing more damage by staying than you meant to be in one. or need and how to get it all. It’s about being again! Added to these feelings was the embarrassment that it was would by leaving!? I should certainly know, I am one of those kids! happening out in front of our house, out in full view of the entire In fairness, growing up in this environment definitely made me a My brother is even younger than I and we were not friends like we happy and content with what you have today. neighborhood, a neighborhood that already looked down on us stronger person, but maybe too strong. I came out of it very inde- are today. The divorce didn’t seem to bother him like it did me. My because we couldn’t afford the “status” items most of them had. pendent, but maybe too independent. I would never let myself sister had been away at college for two years already. All three of us I wanted to go back to the tent trailer, go back to sleep and wake up depend on a man. I learn how to do just about everything myself, kids were affected by our parents’ divorce, but each in a different If I learned one thing from my parents and their divorce, it’s this: in the morning with this being all a really bad nightmare. But I so I will not need anyone else. It’s just safer that way. way because of our age and the stage we were at in our lives. We all I can sit all day and stare at all the nice things I may have - a shiny couldn’t and it wasn’t… this was my reality, this is my life. dealt with the change in our own separate ways. My sister was living new car with fancy wheels, or a large two-story cabin on an over- I was also very aggressive in my early relationships. I acted hard to on her own and had already established herself as independent. My sized lot, or even the most fashionable of all wardrobes. OR... I ran over and leaped up the steps to stand beside my Mom. I told let people know I would never put up with any kind of abusive rela- brother was just starting high school. And I was only a few months I can simply make it with what I have and disregard the desire for her to give me the knife. I told my Dad to “just go” and the prosti- tionship, yet I have been hit by a few of my more serious boyfriends. away from high school graduation and that much closer to moving more. I must be lucky for what I have today for it may not be here tute was telling them the same thing. My Mom was standing her Granted, I didn’t stay long after they hit me, but I chose those men out on my own. tomorrow. Life is not about what you have and what you want or ground as she was saying, “Sherri, he ain’t gonna hit me anymore… who were the type of man who did… even if only once. need and how to get it all. It’s about being happy and content with not anymore!” Life is still different than it was, when it comes to my parents. The what you have today. Right here, right now. I am still not exactly sure what the price I have paid for growing up difference between my parents today is as diverse as night and day, But that’s too much responsibility for a 14-year-old girl. this way is, but it is clear that the real victims in this type of abusive much more now than when they were still married. Lifestyles are so relationship are the children. Even more damaging than the wounds opposite, goals of the future, and priorities in life. Finally, my Mom did give me the knife and my Dad agreed to go. on the women being beaten, are the scars that don’t show. The scars The prostitute stayed in the house with us a little while longer to left for a lifetime on the kids who see it, listen to it, live through it, make sure we were going to be OK. Once more, what happened and in some cases, those who are forced to protect the parent. that night was never mentioned again. The parent whose job it should have been to protect them and ************** their childhood. Kelly Herbst, 29, is a part-time student at North Hennepin Community College. She has been taking a few classes for about five * * * years. She works full-time at North Memorial Medical Center.

************** Sherri Morgan and her father grew up in North Minneapolis, and her mother grew up in southern Minnesota. Her father’s father was a moonshine runner and worked for Jimmy Hoffa. Her father and his two older brothers had to quit school in the ninth grade to go to work. She has been attending North Hennepin Community College off and on since 2005. She received an Associate degree but is back to earn a Small Business Management degree.

27 Realities, 2009: Shadows of Abuse Realities, 2009: The Meaning of Life 28 rowing up, I was very worried about my future. Most of the people G in my family are educated, and I often felt afraid that I would not be able to meet such expectations. I sometimes sat and wondered about how I was going to accomplish the task of finishing school. The pressure became so unbearable for me at times that I stopped thinking about the future and simply focused on the present. The present, I had decided, was either going to make me or break me for the future. So the first step of my journey to the finish line was getting done with middle school and moving on to high school.

Childhood Middle school was a little bit of a challenge for me. One of my biggest struggles in middle school was behavior. I got in trouble a lot. Some weeks Memories I would have two behavior notices and another week sometimes three. The rule, however, was that if you were to have two behavior notices in of one week, you would have an in school suspension, which meant you were put in a class room for the whole day to work on homework; you wouldn’t Schools even be able to go eat until everyone else was done eating. After having this happen to me about six times, I began to realize that it in the U.S. was hurting my ability of becoming a great student, so what I did was I by Jack Panton tried to stop getting in trouble. I even got help from the school. They had me go see a lady that had an anger management program at school. I will say that it wasn’t so much the program that changed me; it was myself, because at that point I had realized that I was doing myself no good by getting in trouble and having to miss lessons in class. I believe that middle school taught me how to handle myself attitude wise. Even so, I knew that

the road ahead was only going to get harder from that point on. |a The present, I had decided, was either going to The Culture make me or break me for the future.

Entering high school is when I really began to realize that the road ahead of School was not going to be an easy journey. The transition from middle school into high school was hard. I went from having to attend four classes a day to about six a day. For me the first week of high school was the hardest it had ever been for me. Finding my classes was a struggle. The halls were so crowded with people that it literally scared me. So being that I didn’t know my classes yet, I had to leave every day five minutes early to find my destination because if I were to wait until the bell rang, I would be caught in a traffic jam and would be late for class. It was an even harder to get to my classes if they were held on the third floor because then I would have to make it through the crowded stairwells to get there.

Once high school got on the way, I began to notice that things were not going right for me. The first major assignment I had in my Social Studies

Realities, 2009: Childhood Memories of Schools in the U.S. 30 class, I did not score so well on. I continued to struggle in this class sented with these tests in my tenth grade year, I didn’t know what for about a third of the way through the semester. This worried me to expect. After taking them, I felt as if I did my best, but at the The Time I Learned Something I’ll Never Forget because Social Studies was a credited class and I had to pass it in same time I knew that the possibility of me passing them was slim. by Vanessa Morris order to move on to the next class. So what I did was I started stay- So when the report came a couple of months later, I hesitated to ing after school and getting help from the teacher and within a week open the envelope; once I did, however, I realized that I had passed of our next major assignment things were back to where I expected the reading but not the writing. I knew then that there was another t was my first year at Hennepin County Technical College, and There were quite a few, “yeah girl that’s right” or “that woman them to be. At that point, all I needed to do was score a B on my task ahead of me that I needed to accomplish before walking I’d decided to go back to school when my son turned the ripe old don’t know nothing,” and I felt a sense of triumph. With the back- assignment and I did. toward graduation. I age of two. Beginning school again at the age of 23 was a scary ing of my fellow classmates, I felt my peers understood the meaning unfamiliar feeling, but I was determined to make a better life for of my words, but this woman standing in front of us had no clue. The reason I believe I was able to pass my Social Studies class was So, when my eleventh grade year came, my only goal was to pass the my son and myself; this was the first step. Learning was at the fore- How could she even begin to understand what it was like living because I kept telling myself that I could do it instead of feeding writing test because I knew that the other classes were not much of a front of this new beginning. I approached this new path in life with underneath the poverty level? How could she understand others myself with negative energy. I had always dreamed of getting the problem for me. For this reason, I focused on writing alone that the enthusiasm and excitement of an eager student ready to absorb treating you as if you were stupid or you were beneath them because chance to walk with the rest of my classmates for graduation and year, and when the time came for us to take the test, I felt confident knowledge like a sponge. you were on welfare? How could she know the anger I felt when I that dream was not going to be stopped. that I was going to pass it, and I did. Even though I wasn’t surprised was the last person to be picked to play dodge-ball because I was the by that time that I passed the test, all of the tests that I had to pre- It was an afternoon during one of my public speaking classes the “fat” kid. But after overcoming the obstacles in passing Social Studies, there pare for and take kept me worried for much of my high school days. instructor made the comment, “No one can make you angry.” was an even bigger obstacle standing in the way of my chance of Still, when it was all said and done, I was proud and so was my family. The comment sparked the beginning of a heated discussion, which How could she know how angry I would become when white graduating with the rest of my class. This obstacle was passing the grabbed the attention of all the students including myself. How the parents wouldn’t let the little black kid come in their house, but Minnesota State Basic Skills Standardized Test. These tests consisted As you can see failure was out of the question for me. Even though I topic became a major part of the session I can’t for the life of me children of the lighter persuasion were welcomed? She wasn’t there of three subjects. These subjects included math, reading, and writing. knew that the road was hard, as were the obstacles that came my remember. I do recall thinking, “This instructor has lost her cotton- when I was 12 years old, and some teenage white boys thought it way, I was able to overcome them. Now that I am in college, I hope picking mind!” Back then I took pride in saying little while absorb- would be funny to use their vehicle to run down the little black I started trying to pass the math test in eighth grade, but didn’t pass to do the same thing. The definition for failure is the state or fact of ing much. Nonetheless, the statement “no one can make you angry” kids walking home from the store at night. No she had no clue of it until tenth grade. The reading and writing I was only allowed to failing, which is not for me. just wasn’t sitting right with me. I couldn’t understand or even the anger that resided in me on a daily basis. As far as I was con- take in the tenth grade through the twelfth grade. When I was pre- comprehend the notion that no one could make me angry. This cerned, her statement had no merit. woman didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. She didn’t live in the world I grew up in. She couldn’t understand the hard- ships, the struggles or the negative, small-minded people that This was a day I couldn’t hold my tongue. Before ************** crossed paths with me on any given day. No, I had to make her I could stop myself, I found the words spewing Jack Panton and his family are originally from Liberia. Jack has been in the United States since he was eight years old. understand how I could become angry from others actions towards from me like the hot molten lava flowing from Spring semester was his first semester at North Hennepin Community College. me. This was a day I couldn’t hold my tongue. Before I could stop myself, I found the words spewing from me like the hot molten lava the depths of Kilauea. flowing from the depths of Kilauea. Then as quickly as the discussion had become a torrent sea of Determined to prove her statement wrong, I spoke with the fury of grumbles and one-sided opinions, it opened up to the level of a mad woman on a mission; like Harriet Tubman leading the slaves listening, learning, and understanding. She now had the floor and to freedom via the Underground Railroad. My thoughts began to the attention of everyone in the class. Her words were soft but un- surface and spill from me with reckless abandonment. If someone apologetic. She went on to finish her initial statement. “No one can called me a bitch, a whore, a nigger; oh yes, I was going to become make you angry, but you have the choice to become angry.” Wow! angry. Another trigger requiring my anger is if someone were to dis- respect or harm my mother. God forbid if someone did something It hit me like an 18 wheeler going 80 mph down the highway com- unspeakable to my child, one of the sole reasons for my being at ing to a complete halt from the impact of a reinforced concrete wall. that school of higher education, that person best believe the anger She explained that we as humans have the ability to make choices. would ooze from the depths of my soul. If someone just up and We are in control of our actions, not someone else. How we react to slapped me like I stole something, yep, you got it, anger to the a certain situation is our choice and ours alone. We can choose to umpteenth degree. So don’t sit here and tell me that “no one can walk away, or react with anger. Anger is an emotion we choose to make me angry”! display. Again wow; I got it!

31 Realities, 2009: Childhood Memories of Schools in the U.S. Realities, 2009: The Time I Learned Something I’ll Never Forget 32 As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I guess I never gave it minent confrontation. The realization that there were so many other much thought because I would always suppress my anger until I was positive emotions I could choose to display instead of anger being given a clear reason to express anger. Those who knew me would my sole reaction when faced with adversity, fear, or prejudice. In by Emily Haisley characterize me as meek or passive, but as I grew older anger became a sense, a major part of who I was or who I would become was The Bus Ride of a Lifetime my shield. It kept me safe from the bullies that roamed the housing reflected in my ability to make choices. projects where I lived. It made people think twice about verbalizing any negative thoughts or prejudices against me because of the fear Today, I live by this lesson. It has become a part of who I am. I of making me angry. Her words made me think about how much know that I have choices and that knowledge goes beyond just my had never been so angry at my father. Just because I failed one you get so tired of being picked on in school that you have to main- control I had over this emotion we refer to as anger. At this precise emotions. I made the choice to go back to school again. I made the Ihomework assignment, he condemned me to the torture of tain control of the bus, do you?” I asked. “Poor Pitiful Peter just moment in my life I felt a sense of realization and understanding choice to leave a marriage that only drained the strong independent having to ride the bus to school. A girl of my social status in the can’t hack it in the hallways, so he has to push everyone else out of that’s still with me today. woman I worked so hard to create. I made the choice not to become tenth grade dreads the day she is caught dead in the filthy thing. the back of the bus just so that he doesn’t cry in his lunch box on angry and resentful when I was laid-off in 2008 after being with the I tried not to make eye contact with anyone so that they may not the way home,” I said in the most mocking voice I could muster. Ultimately I learned that we as humans have the ability to make company for more than eight years. I made the choice to be happy recognize me wiggling my way through the narrow isle of hell. The Peter turned to meet my words, but when he opened his mouth, choices. That day my began the journey that lead me to fully under- in spite of it all. Yes, this lesson has shaped me into the person I am only grace God had for me at all on that April morning was that nothing but “uh…uh…uh…” spit out of it. “Yep, that’s what I stand the notion that I am in control of how I react to circumstance today, a strong, proud, black woman overflowing with emotions yet there happened to be one seat left available for me near the back. thought. Not a thing to say when someone who actually knows beyond my control. It’s my choice to walk away and bypass an im- aware of the power I possess with the ability to make choices. As the ugly monster pulled its old self away from the curb, I sunk what a loser you truly are had to be cursed enough for one day to lower in my seat so that the all I could see was the matted, flaky hair be stuck riding with the likes of you on the way to school,” I said. of the freshman in front of me. This day would not get better until Again the chins of the demons went down into their shirts as they I was relieved of my pain the moment my heels touched the sweet snickered and sneered. We all rode in silence the rest of the way to ************** pavement of the high school parking lot. school, but I could not help but notice the backward glances from Vanessa Morris works full time at Weber Shandwick as an Assistant Office Manager while raising two children and one puppy – Julie, now in another spot up front. Rhys, 19 and Chleo, 10, and Milo (the puppy). She is a student at North Hennepin Community College and working to obtain a Unfortunately, my freedom was still one more stop away. Peter, an- degree in Business Management. Although she has worked in finance and administration for most of her career, she has always had a noying Peter from Acting 101, was the only one left to join all of passion for telling stories. She has learned how to be more expressive in the stories she writes, and she thinks the opportunity to share is the sad souls upon the yellow giant. Pompous as he was, he strutted On what I thought was going to be the worst a blessing. his way to the back of the bus. While in the halls of senior high, he morning of my life, I realized so much about is no more than another over-zealous theatre freak, but apparently myself in one simple ride to school. he was the king of the back of the bus. I guess that was sort of like being the king of ants, but clearly it was a well respected position on the yellow giant. “Julie?” he asked. “Just what do you think you are Sweet, sweet, freedom. At last I felt as if I had been ripped out of doing in my seat?” I could not help but look over my shoulder to the chains from hell as I went running into the school. I immedi- see who could possibly be less deserving than Peter to be in the ately found Brynna, my best friend at the time, in the hallway where back. “I’m sorry Peter, but I do believe I was here first,” said the all of the worthy ones were standing. “I just had the craziest ride to poor girl, whose lower half sadly took up the entire two person seat. school,” I said. Brynna asked, “Really? What happened?” As I opened my mouth to tell her, I heard a very quiet cough and felt a “Well, I expect you to move unless the weight shift in the bus as you soft tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find Julie, who had move to the front would be too great for the wheels to handle.” apparently also escaped with her life, standing next to me. “I can’t Even as these cruel words spewed from Pompous Peter, the other tell you how grateful I am for what you did this morning. No one demons on the hell bus were already pulling their chins into their has ever done something like that for me,” she said. “It was no shirts to stuff the evil grins and snickers. Poor big Julie stood up and problem at all, besides he deserved it,” I said. “You really shouldn’t began the walk of shame up the isle almost too narrow for a young let anyone talk to you like that.” “I know, but thanks again,” she girl like Julie. said, and she was gone.

My need to remain hidden from these creeps was almost too great I turned back to my friend to find that her entire face had gone to stand, but not greater than the need to remind Pitiful Peter of his completely red. She had a horrified look on her face. “Don’t you place in this world. Of course, I thought this task to be my personal ever do that to me again! Next time, warn me before you have duty to remind others which pile of garbage they belong to. “What, people like that who need to talk to you and I will remember to

33 Realities, 2009: The Time I Learned Something I’ll Never Forget Realities, 2009: The Bus Ride of a Lifetime 34 leave before I am spotted near them.” With the look of disgust stuck On what I thought was going to be the worst morning of my life, I am an adult learner. I left school when I was 17 to work and help to her narrow-minded face, she stormed off. I stood there alone, realized so much about myself in one simple ride to school. I had Iprovide for my younger siblings. I received my GED at age 44 and am wondering what had just happened. Was I just like Brynna? If it thought that by having the most people around you, that you had now happy (anxious) to be working toward a college degree. As I reviewed were not for wanting so desperately to ruin Peter, would I have an abundance of friends that added to your self worth. I realize now my experiences with reading, I realized that there has been a void in my stood up for poor Julie at all? I just did not know. What I did soon that it is better to have one or two true friends, people who are kind life. I had no role models to teach me the pleasures of reading. I read only find out; however, was that Julie turned out to be a very nice girl, and soft hearted, than having twenty cruel and narrow-minded when required or necessary. However, I have been able to improve my skills with whom I remained in contact for quite sometime. Brynna and I friends. I will never forget my morning in hell, for I believe that it through the demands of employment, training manuals, and company also talked, but I never looked at her the same again. I also looked at prevented me from living a lifetime of it. audits. Working through my courses in college will certainly improve my myself differently. Reader comprehension and writing skills so that I can feel capable and equipped for what is ahead. My parents had no money or the means to buy us books. As a result, I have always felt most of my life I was left behind and had to catch up. The impact of reading in our lives shapes us into who we are and how we get through it. Through my narrative, I hope you will be able to

as a see how important it is to read. ************** Emily Haisley, 22, lives in Rogers, Minnesota. She was born in North Dakota but grew up in Andover, Minnesota. After graduating I grew up in the hills of Missouri in the sixties and seventies. The commu- from Andover High School, she attended one year at Anoka Ramsey Community College, leaving to go to the Aveda Cosmetology nity was poor and families were struggling with every day life, food, cloths, School. After completing her cosmetology degree, she worked in a salon for two years but did not care for it and returned to go to school at North Hennepin Community College to pursue her dream of becoming a psychologist and/or writer. home, and so on. Times were tough, but my parents were busy providing for us.

I do not recall my parents ever reading to us. They maybe would tell us a story from time to time, but that's about all. Reading was absent from my every day life at home. I can only remember my grade school teachers having story times and that I enjoyed those times very much. I can not My Life remember what kind of reading material we used in grade school, but at home about the only material we had were a few dime store comic books that were given to us by a friend or class mate. My grandmother however by Meda Rogich would read me a children's version of the Bible, which I still have to this day, a memory I'll never forget. Our Sunday school teacher would read to us as well.

I was poor with a southern accent. I clearly did not fit in and quickly fell behind. I struggled with reading and writing assignments, grammar, pronunciation, and spelling.

When I turned 15, my family moved to Minnesota. This was big change in culture for me. Why? I was poor with a southern accent. I clearly did not fit in and quickly fell behind. I struggled with reading and writing assign- ments, grammar, pronunciation, and spelling. Soon after, my parents separated, leaving my mom and me to provide and care for my two younger sisters. This did not leave me with any time to worry about school or reading. I did enjoy reading Teen Beat magazines, and I would always spend my baby sitting money buying them.

35 Realities, 2009: The Bus Ride of a Lifetime Realities, 2009: My Life as a Reader 36 After I married and started my own family, I still did not read many I still have a lack of reading and do not have much time, so I hen I was in high school, I was obese and had extremely low books but did occasionally read articles in magazines about raising basically read only what I need to. It must be habit now. I am Wself-esteem. I was always picked on, bullied, and teased. I saw a children. But if you ask me to find and point out errors in a process more confident, but still wish I was better with grammar and group of kids who hung out together all the time, and they seemed to or instructions manual, I am pretty good at reading though that spelling. My employer for the last 18 years down-sized and moved have a lot of fun, and I saw that group as the popular group. They were type of material. After entering the work force, I had to quickly read out of the country, leaving me unemployed at age 45. I decided to the ones that I wanted to hang out with and be liked by, yet they were through work instructions, manuals, documentation, requirements, never let that happen to me again. I am currently enrolled for a the same group of peers who drank and did drugs. I just truly wanted to audit reports, and logs. Being responsible for many others and their two-year degree in business and I am sure with the education I am fit in. This group gave me that chance as they accepted me as who I was, work performance called upon me to step up in order to have bal- receiving it will lay out a better foundation for me to get through not who they wanted me to be. At least that is how it felt at first. ance at work and home. My limits to reading were primarily for what ever may come my way. work, I did not have much time for any other kind of reading mate- Out of I turned to alcohol. It began with drinking just one beer, which led to rial except for children’s books that I read to my three daughters. In closing, what turned me off about reading and why? High school drinking straight shots of vodka and carrying a bottle of liquor everywhere was really hard for me with a lack of skills and a different class of I went. Then I began smoking cigarettes and marijuana, and taking pills. My children have all grown and blessed us with a granddaughter. people. I have had many struggles though out my life as I’m sure we I felt better, and I felt as though I had some friends. In reality, however, I She is a pure delight and is so eager to learn about every thing. I all do from time to time. What turned me on about reading is my the was the one paying for the alcohol and drugs and putting gas in the car. made a promise that she would never go without help when it grandmother’s kind words and quality time! However, deep down I knew they were truly not real friends, and I wanted comes to her education. I will buy her what ever she needs to suc- to be accepted, not bullied and teased. By this time, though, it was too ceed in life. Some books that I have a preference for and collect for late to get out because I was already an alcoholic and a drug addict headed myself are old cook books, sewing books, cross stitch books, and Ashes for trouble. children's books for my granddaughter. With every visit with my granddaughter we read, tell stories together, and play games on the by Carol LaFleur One night I decided to go to a bar with a group of guys. I was the only girl, computer, kind of like my grandmother and I did so many years and I was underage. I had a few shots, and after that I did not remember ago. We have fun times spent reading with our granddaughter. anything. When I woke from a blackout three days later, I found myself at home. The insides of my thighs were black and blue, and the credit cards and money I had stashed in my boot were gone. I learned I had crashed my car and that I had been robbed and gang raped. I finally thought things had truly hit rock bottom. Yet, I was in for a surprise. All my so-called ************** friends went away and did not even call. Was it because they raped and Meda Rogich grew up very poor in the south with very little reading material in her life. When she stepped back in time to analyze robbed me, or was it because I did not have a car or the money to support her life as a reader, she realized that she had thought there were no adventures to explore through an author’s imagination and the their habits? power of their words. Now, at 48, she is graduating from college this spring with a two-year degree and with honors. She says, “This is a new chapter in my life, and I can honestly say it really is never too late!” …it was too late to get out because I was already an alcoholic and a drug addict headed for trouble.

Although I continued to drink, I still managed to graduate high school. I received a nursing scholarship, only to find out that I was pregnant. I felt I had no choice but to give up going to school. I did not even know who the father was. I did stop drinking and doing drugs due to the pregnancy, but I did not then realize it was already too late. Until my son was born, I did not know he would suffer from the choices I made about drug and alcohol consumption.

After the birth, the doctors informed me my son was born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. As my son grew older, he started having further medical issues and learning problems. Soon he was diagnosed with

37 Realities, 2009: My Life as a Reader Realities, 2009: Out of the Ashes 38 ADHD, Tourette’s Syndrome, obsessive compulsive disorder, and As for me, I am 46 years old, and I am back in school. I have been bipolar disorder. He had to attend special schools just to learn. in college for three years. I am making healthy choices for myself, and I am succeeding. I am a peer advisor for Student Support Today my son has to take medication everyday and has a personal Services and a member of Phi Theta Kappa, the two-year college care attendant to help him make it through each day. He does hold honor society. I also am involved in Student Volunteer Club, My Most Memorable a part-time job as a stock boy, yet he will never go to college. Now Student Senate, Students for Peace and Black Student Coalition by Lassana Y. Bamba, Jr. this is my question for myself: Were my son’s conditions caused by Against Racism. Although it is twice as hard for me to learn at this Moment in Class my choice to drink and do drugs? I will never know, and I cannot age than it would have been right out of high school, I truly love take back the choices I made. However, I know I can help young school and the fact that I have a second chance to get it right. people make better choices by relating my story and sharing the message for them to be content with who they are, and for them to be the best they can be. y most memorable moment in class brought memories school. She would warm the surplus of our evening meal the next Mof how education in different place can be interesting morning in order for me to be properly fed before going to class. at different time. This is because my country Liberia lacks the requisite materials in advancing quality education. Unlike in Having realized my most memorable moment in class, and the pain ************** America everything is in abundance. My most memorable and suffering my mom underwent in supporting my education, it Carol LaFleur is forty-six years old and a mother of seven children ranging in age from eight to thirty-four. She attends North moment in class brought feelings that I will never forget. is time to advance myself. I came up with an idea that will supple- Hennepin Community College, where she is working towards an Associate Degree. She writes to release the demons that have It motivated me to achieve the quality education that some ment my mom’s efforts and that I should not take it lightly. I must encompassed her life. She wants to teach others that they can also use writing as a way to be heard. Her goals include putting of my relatives and friends thought I would ever acquire. together her writing in a book, publishing it, and distributing it where people such as her can find it, read it, and realize that They never dreamt of me ever attending a vocational school they can make it, too. She also volunteers as a speaker on victim abuse. in Liberia, not to mention an American College. Their mixed My most memorable moment in class brought feelings aroused due to the level of poverty school going children feelings that I will never forget. faced at the time. Obtaining ten United States dollars as my yearly tuition was always an enormous challenge for my mom. not only reside in the US as a legal immigrant but rather make use of my stay by going to school. I must not be the one to always con- My most memorable time in class brought those memories of how gratulate friends for their achievements in school but give them the my beloved mother who did not acquire formal education struggled opportunity to congratulate me as well. Abraham Lincoln once said, to support me in school. In my mind’s picture, I could see my “I will study and wait and the opportunity will come.” This oppor- mother wash my dirty garments as early as 6:00 a.m. She did this in tunity is unlikely until I courageously achieve my most memorable order for me to wear them to school the same morning they were moment in class. This in itself will purify the tears and sorrows of washed. She would iron them dry in order for me to be on time in my mom.

************** Lassana Y. Bamba, Jr. is a student of journalism at North Hennepin Community College. He is a former Assistant Language Program Coordinator/ Radio Program Producer at the Liberia Broadcasting System as well as inventor of the program Indigenous Songs of Liberia. He is also a former producer of Focus on Development still heard on EL BC, Liberia.

39 Realities, 2009: Out of the Ashes Realities, 2009: My Most Memorable Moment in Class 40 The Message of Islam by Asma Khan

he prime message of Islam is the Unity of God, believed that This charity is paid after your expenses, family expenses and after Tthere is only one creator and Prophet Mohammed is His mes- your taxes. The contributor should not be known or it doesn’t senger. Islam literally means peace. A Muslim is a follower of Islam count, because it will purify the person from having pride in this and they have many beliefs like the Qur’an, angels, and prophets. act. Giving Zakat can be to the poor and needy to the Muslims in There are five main duties that each Muslim should perform to high debt. Giving Zakat is an obligatory act. demonstrate their faith which are known as the five pillars of Islam. They are the testimony of faith, prayer, almsgiving, fasting, and Every year in the month of Ramadan, all Muslims around the world pilgrimage. This is the framework of a Muslim’s life. fast from dawn to sundown. Fasting is restraining from all food, drink, and sexual relations. Children begin fasting when they hit The testimony of faith is also known as the shahadah. It is pro- puberty. The elderly aren’t obligated to fast if on medication. It is nounced in Arabic and translated to mean “There is no God but Allah and the Prophet is His messenger.” In other words, there is no worship of any other God but Allah. This is the first thing said to The prayer must start off by performing wudu, a newborn and the last thing whispered into the ears of the dead. which is a ritually cleansing of the person’s I was taught this testimony when I was very young; I believe it is body and mind. the confession of faith.

Prayer is very important in Islam. Muslims have to pray five times a said that in the holy month of Ramadan that the gates of heaven are day. It is said to be a direct link between you and God. Prayers are wide open. Therefore, your prayer will be answered eventually. said in Arabic and have verses from the Qur’an. Prayers are done at Fasting isn’t about starving oneself; it’s to show the person patience

dawn, afternoon, mid-afternoon, sunset, and nightfall. There are and discipline. I personally look forward to this month because I

some requirements that must be met in order for your prayer to be feel it bring me closer to God. a valid. The prayer must start off by performing wudu, which is a | ritually cleansing of the person’s body and mind. One’s clothing Hajj is the pilgrimage to Mecca. Every Muslim must once in their should be properly covered in the manner of their gender. The life make a pilgrimage to the Kaba. The Kaba is the house of God Customs prayer must be facing the Qibla, which is the Kaba. Finally, the on this earth. It is said that Prophet Abraham and his son Ishmael intention is made, merely saying that you are about to start prayer were the first pilgrims to the Kaba. About two million Muslims and to God. Prayer is very important to me. It was very hard for me to perform this act every year during the twelfth month according to meet all my prayers during my high school years because by the the Islamic calendar. The pilgrims are given special garments that time I would get home prayer time would be over for the afternoon take away distinction of class and culture. So everyone there can Beliefs prayers. I found it a lot easier and convenient in college; this is stand equal there. I have never been to Hajj, but I plan on going because my college had a special room just for prayer for Muslims. sometime in my life.

Giving is considered an act of worship. Zakat is known as almsgiv- ing in Arabic. It helps a person get away from selfishness and greed.

************** Asma Khan and his family are from Hyderabad, India. He has lived in Minnesota his entire life but travels a lot to India. He speaks Urdu as a second language. Spring 2009, was his first semester at North Hennepin Community College.

Realities, 2009: The Message of Islam 42 @ in Traditional MarriageChina by Pianpian Huang Weingby Nadya Stroeva Day

n the past sixty years in China, the parents chose the partners for ceremony in the room that would become her bedroom. The tea arriage is a big step in life. And with regard to marriage, he can see the bride. We name it “sell the bride.” After all sell-buy Itheir children. The parents contacted a matchmaker. Hence, the ceremony is the important part of the wedding. When the time had MUkrainian culture is similar to American culture. Our parents things, he finally receives his lovely bride. Then they go to the marriage was arranged by a matchmaker, too, for the matchmaker come, the bride came out from the room. She was still covered by do not choose a husband or a wife for us. We have the possibility to church. They put their signatures and go to make photos in the would provide the information of the child and the background of the red small blanket and nobody could see her face, not even the do it ourselves. However, when we have found a person with whom famous places in the city. his or her family to the other party. The parents could not see the groom. During the tea ceremony, first the groom and the bride we want to live, we have dinner with girl’s parents. During this din- partner for their child. Whatever the matchmaker said to them was kneel down and throw some tea on the floor. This is done to thank ner, the boy asks parents to give the blessings for their marriage. At the end of a day, they go to a restaurant where their parents meet all they could know. The only thing they could do was deal with the earth for growing the food to feed them. Second, they give some Usually parents agree with their daughter’s choice. After that, they them and congratulate them. Before the bride and fiancé sit at the the other side or not. tea to the groom’s parents. They believe after the parents drank the have a lot of work to prepare for the wedding. celebration table, their friends congratulate them and give their tea, a new family will grow. Third, the groom and the bride give tea presents. They start to celebrate. to each other, showing that they needed to love each other for their On the day of the wedding, the bride wears her wedding white I did not want to put my life in the hands of a entire lives. After the tea ceremony, the bride goes back to the room. dress. Her witness helps her to be ready to see her fiancé. The driver Close to midnight, the fiancé’s mother helps to take off the veil and man whom I did not know or understand For the groom, he is busy all day with the guests. He could not see brings the fiancé to his future wife’s house. The girl’s friends meet wears the white silk shawl. From that minute, every one names even if my parents had considerable details the bride until the guests left. That would be the first time he saw the fiancé. They prepare many tests for him. He cannot see the them husband and wife. the bride unveiled. bride before he pays and finishes his tests. The tests are always fun about him. and jokes. For example, some of them, every step that the fiancé will This ceremony is called blind-marriage. However, I did not want make, he should say how he loves his girl: she is a beautiful, perfect, to put my life in the hands of a man whom I did not know or modest, smart, I will care for her all my life, I will clean the dishes, The matchmaker’s information affected the decision of the parents. understand even if my parents had considerable details about him. and I will always help her. When he comes close to the door, the The groom and the bride could not see each other until the end of I oppose this kind of the traditional marriage. In China, the attitude girls prepare other tests. He must pay them to open the door that the wedding day. The group of groom’s friends went to get the bride of traditional marriage has been shifted. We choose our own partner from her house. The bride was covered by a red small blanket, so now. I feel I am so lucky to have this freedom. nobody could see her on that day. She went all the way to the groom’s house with a group of her friends. The bride dressed in ************** red. After she arrived at the groom’s house, she waited for the tea Nadya Stroeva is from Odessa, Ukraine, and her parents still live there. She claims she has not travelled a lot, but she has been to Prague, Poland, Egypt, Florida, California, and Tennessee. Her native language is Ukrainian, but she speaks Russian and English. She has lived in America for one year and this is her second semester at North Hennepin Community College.

************** Pianpian Huang came from a small village in China and has been at North Hennepin Community College for four months.

43 Realities, 2009: Traditional Marriage in China Realities, 2009: Wedding Day 44 ituations such as someone taking advantage of another person or Ssomeone yelling at me are incidences that will drive me to anger, but none of these surpass the anger that I felt when I found out my brother was murdered by rebels. His murder almost destroyed me and would have destroyed me forever if I had not left my country.

The war in Liberia, West Africa, began in 1989 and lasted for 15 years. It was a brutal silver war that took the lives of thousands of people including my brother. Before the war, my people only knew the joy of peace and prosperity. The war started because of tribal strife between the Krahn tribe (which was the tribe of the then current president) and rival tribes called Geo and Mano. It is said that these tribes had conflict dating many years back. The president and his tribal men attacked and killed many of the Mano and Geo people because of accusations that they were guilty of a coup attempt. It was a terrible time for us Liberians as we watched the Made Me Angry government army massacre hundreds of people, hunting them down like dogs. The government soldiers would come into neighborhoods at night and enter homes with force and kill everybody, including children. This

that caused anger and resentment among many, but most especially the sur- vivors of these massacres and their families. Many of them ran away to neighboring countries where they trained and came back as rebels.

Even though my mother had begged Freddie not to leave that morning because of fear that he

might be harmed, he left home anyway. a When these rebels returned to Liberia, they entered Liberia through bor- | The Incident dering countries. They did not go directly to the Executive Mansion to capture their enemy, the president, but rather dispersed themselves all The Ravages around the country. The rebels entered small towns and cities and killed by Winifred Bradford many innocent people. This is how my brother Freddie became a victim.

Even though my mother had begged Freddie not to leave that morning of War because of fear that he might be harmed, he left home anyway. He told us he was going to Konola, my mother’s town, and left with one of his friends. He was familiar with the area because he was a student at the boarding school. He did not realize his journey would cause him his life. In fact, none of us really knew how dangerous it was because we had not ventured away from our neighborhood.

Weeks later my family, some neighbors and friends (about 31 of us) took the risk and walked through the rebel territory for 17 days, to a neighbor- ing country, Sierra Leone. On our journey, we experienced the cruelty of the rebels. They raped a member of our group, stole our food, and beat us. At every checkpoint, they detained us and searched us by stripping us naked and sometime putting their hands in area best left unstated. They

Realities, 2009: The Incident that Made Me Angry 46 seemed so heartless and evil and out to kill anyone. They would fears went away, and all I felt was anger and the desire for revenge. accuse innocent people falsely and subsequently kill them. This All I wanted to do was kill the individuals that killed my brother. made traveling very dangerous. Many young boys were recruited Many times I thought, “If I could just get my hands on them….” while older men were tortured or killed by the rebels. The rebels This was not possible because I was thousands of miles away in an- would kill you if they believed you looked like someone they knew; other country. Worst of all, I was a refugee, had no money or means this was the accusation placed upon my brother. of going back home. I felt I would never forgive these people. Anger is a terrible thing to experience. It makes a person senseless. According to witnesses, Freddie was accused of being from the Mandingo tribe (one of the 16 tribal groups of Liberia) because of It has been sixteen years and the pain and anger that controlled his height and dark complexion. The rebels also accused him of me no longer does. Being in America, so far away from home has being a government solder because of marks from his boots around allowed me to learn, understand, and heal from this pain that fed his shins. My brother denied both of these accusations. He even my anger against the rebel. Somehow the longer I’ve stayed away took them to a cousin who lived nearby the highway as proof that from home, the more the anger and desire for revenge has dimin- he was not who they thought he was. But he was only saved for ished. Now, I feel more and more the desire to help my people and that day as they left him alone. Freddie and his friend decided to my country. I can truly say that I am ready to go to Liberia and continue their journey on the following day but came in contact make contribution to the rebuilding of my country. with the same boys who had confronted them earlier. This time he was not so lucky. They shot him, and as he struggled for life they I thank God for America and the distance between the two beheaded him. countries that prevented me from going back home to avenge my brother’s murder. I thank God for the opportunity to heal. I have never known such pain and hatred as I experienced with the My brother’s death still hurts, but I’m glad I am not driven by news of my brother’s murder. I was convinced, these people were anger, and I have no desires for revenge. barbaric murderers. I had spent some time among the rebels and had some fear of them because of how they tortured and murdered their victims, but when I heard about my brother’s murder all my

************** Winifred Bradford, formerly Winifred Cegbe, was born in Kakata, Liberia, West Africa, but grew up in Gardnersville, Liberia. She graduated from St. Michael Catholic Elementary, Junior, and Senior High School. Currently, she is a student at North Hennepin Community College and resides in Fridley, Minnesota, with her husband and two sons.

47 Realities, 2009: The Incident that Made Me Angry Realities, 2009 48 he most peaceful place I know is in the Anambra State of Nigeria. TThis place is called Isingwu. Everything about this place is trying to say something to me. The evil of civilization is yet to dwell in Isingwu.

The moment you step into this little village, the serenity of the atmosphere takes away every worry or stress in your life. Although the grasses along the roadside are a little dusty from the un-tarred road, you will notice the healthy green grass whose silkiness will take your breath away as you walk The Most Peaceful further into the village away from the highway. I always have to catch my Place I Know breath at the first site of these vast green grasses. The trees in the streets and around the houses seem to have a life of their own. As they bring in the cool breeze, their branches swing in unison to an unheard song. You could almost feel the trees are dancing. Walking by Ifeyinwa Osakwe close to a tree, you smell the most tantalizing scent you ever wish to perceive. The branches of the tree embrace you like a long lost child. In your heart you cannot help but say, “This is it; I never want to leave here.”

In the morning, before the dawn of day, the singing and chirping of the birds wakes you up. These welcoming and glorious creatures make pleasant music that sounds to the ears like “Kwukwu Kwi Kwukwu, Kwukwu Kwi Kwukwu.” You look out the window and see the most extraordinary beautiful sight of these birds hopping from one tree to the other, adorned in their colorful feathers, which I call their “attires.” One of these birds is called Obodokwonwu. It has beautiful blue and black attire. Another is called Otupkororo and is adorned in a light brown color. Some other rare

birds seen are gracefully attired in bright yellow and red colors with spots |a of snow white. Memories of You get the feeling you have drunk from the well of life, one that you never want to dry up.

{People, Places, and Times The freshness of the air as you step outside and take a breath “rips” years away from your age. You get the feeling you have drunk from the well of life, one that you never want to dry up.

Far away you hear the beautiful sound of the waterfall as it hits the rocks beneath it and splashes all around the surroundings. The sound is rhythmic and soothing to the soul. It clears your mind and a blanket of joy envelops you.

The sky is so crystal clear that when you look up, you can almost see through heaven. The clarity of the atmosphere makes it so easy for the people to tell what time it is without looking at a clock. They look at the shadows of buildings structures or tall trees to tell the time of the day.

Realities, 2009: The Most Peaceful Place I Know 50 The villagers go about their various businesses—like palm wine Everyone you pass on your way home, though shabbily dressed, has tapping, farming, fishing, bargaining at the local nkwor—so quietly a smile of contentment on his or her face and a warm greeting for My Grandfather: that one can almost feel the village is empty. The cool breeze of the you, Omo, greeting for a woman and Omu, greeting for a man. giant trees quenches the hotness of the day. The gentle and cool a Progressive and Wise Patriotic Vietnamese breeze carries the joyful laughter of children to your ears and their In the night, the sound of the crickets signals the ‘birth’ of nightfall. voices are like music to your ears. A different kind of birds like the owls cries out in the night to warn by Maria Tran about the dangers of the night. The gentle and quiet voice of the There is a stream at the end of the village surrounded by palm trees, elders filled with wisdom are heard telling folk tales with younger where one could go for a swim with just the sound of the birds the ones sitting quietly at their feet. The humming of a song signals the and occasional bleating of the native goats called ewu. The stream end of the stories, and the joy from these gatherings puts a smile on n my childhood’s memory, my grandfather was an incomparable before Vietnamese New Year to pray for our ancestors at the ceme- water is so cool and clear that you can see everything at the bottom. your lips as you lay down to sleep awaiting the musical tones of the Iperson. I extremely adored my grandfather and was proud of him tery and to visit our paternal relatives there. My grandfather’s poem One could see tiny fishes in yellowish gold and silver color, the early morning birds. Indeed this is the most serene and peaceful as he specially loved and was proud of me compared to the rest of made me proud to think that I belong to this homeland that is beautiful shells, and fine sand at the bottom. As you step into the place I have known. his grandchildren. Though he passed many years ago, his memory is famous among Vietnamese history. stream, the fine sand at the bottom of the stream romances your forever on my mind. feet, and before you know it you are swimming in the stream. Besides memorizing the voluminous amount of poems in Viet- My grandfather lived at the time there was a huge change to Viet- namese literature, my grandfather was a poet, too. He used to show namese culture. French colonists arrived at the 17th century and a poem that he had just made about events happened in his every- replaced Chinese feudal conquers in Vietnam. The Portugal Priest, day life. They were traditional Vietnamese poems that had six and Alexand De Rhode, made up Roman letters or alphabets for Viet- eight words, eleven and nine word formal and free style. One time ************** namese writing to serve French education in Vietnam. Like most my grandpa visited us and stayed for a few days. After his noon nap, Ifeyinwa Osakwe is a citizen of Nigeria and now a resident alien of Minnesota. She was married in November 2007 in the United Vietnamese who lived at this time, my grandfather did not only he brought a paper with his poem inside to show us. States after relocating from her home country. She is the third child and has five sisters and a brother. Prior to moving to United read and write Vietnamese in alphabet, he also could read and write States, Ifeyinwa worked with a Nigerian Bank for four years. She is a current student at North Hennepin Community College, Vietnamese in classical picture writing, which was very similar with “Hey, my grandchildren, I want you to hear the poem that I’ve just where she is taking some classes to fulfill a dream of earning a Masters in Nursing. Chinese and Japanese writing of today. Moreover, he was a scholar. made when laying down for nap,” he excitedly read: He memorized a huge number of famous poems in Vietnamese “You told me that you‘re candid and frank, folklore and literature and my brothers, sisters, and I very much But now your hiddenness was revealed, what do you say? enjoyed listening to him recite them. You’re unfaithful, a liar.”

One of his poems that we preferred was Sacrificed poem for sacrificed We enjoyed his poem very much that day, but we did not know it soldiers of Can Giuoc written by Nguyen Dinh Chieu. The poem was about his angriness to his girlfriend. She used to do business glorified the first rebellion of Vietnamese scholars and farmers with him, and they went to coffee shop to talk about poems because against French colonists in Can Giuoc. Can Giuoc is a province in they had same interest in literature. She promised that he was her South Vietnam, about an hour drive from Sai Gon city, and was only poetic partner, and then he caught her at the coffee shop with where my grandfather and my father lived. While Vietnamese royals another man. She wanted to talk to him; she went to our house to gave up aggressors discouragingly, Vietnamese scholars and farmers ask my Mom about him. My grandfather firmly answered my stood and fought for independence. They had insufficient of Mom, “Tell her that I have nothing to say to her. She should never weapons and strategy to fight with French colonists’ modern come to see me again. Everything is done.” weapons such as cannons, rifles, and dynamite. They only had falchions, swords, knives, spears, bamboo prickles, and whatever We totally admired his knowledge. He used to lecture us moral they could hold in their hands for weapons. However, they could lessons and proverbs from Vietnamese folklore, which was absorbed not win in this first fight, and many of them died, the Vietnamese from Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism. Still, my brother scholars and farmer patriots succeeded in warning French colonists reminds me one of his proverbs: I would rather honorably die than to about Vietnamese indomitability and the dark future of conquerors live shameful or Whoever is honest their whole life will get rewards who wanted to conquer Vietnam. Another aspect of this poem that from God. I never forgot was the tragic and emotional praying and wailing for the innumerable anonymous heroes who died for the country in this My grandpa was a tall, slender gentleman. He used to wear Chinese fight. My family and I used to get back to this province every year suit with a button line in the middle and big pockets like a farmer’s

51 Realities, 2009: The Most Peaceful Place I Know Realities, 2009: My Grandfather: A Progressive and Wise Patriotic Vietnamese 52 costume. However, instead of black like middle class, his was white cousins, aunts, and uncle said that he prayed for me doing well in ancestors. A daughters in Vietnamese culture will move to her 18th centuries when French colonists set up their education in Viet- for noble class. His pepper beard and hair was always long and tied abroad and called loudly my name in his last moment. husband’s house and is responsible to her in-laws, her husbands’ nam and changed the Vietnamese writing from Classical writing to in a knot atop his head like most respectable, traditional Vietnamese grandparents and parents, not to her own family one anymore. alphabet writing, a huge number Vietnamese scholars opposed it by people. His sage, warm eyes, his mild voice, and his wide knowledge Grandpa’s unforgettable gift to us was a particular treat that made She is also responsible to worship ancestors on her husband’s side, refusing to work with the French and went to the forest to foment in telling Vietnamese history and folklore made up credit for him to by roasted rice and caramel, a famous product of rice fields in the not her side. Therefore, if a family has only girl, no boy, they are revolution. Those who stayed and worked for French colonists were the listeners. He walked vigorously fast as a brave cheetah at his East coast of Vietnam. The crispiness and delicious smell of this big losers. condemned as betrayers. How was my grandpa who was a Viet- eighty seven year-old. I think he was healthy and long-lived because treat gave scent to my childhood memory. One funny memory with namese traditional scholar, to let my father go to French school for of the lotus and jasmine tea he drank every day. Every morning, my grandpa that we used to laugh was about his pockets. His pockets At that time in Vietnamese society, there were also conflicts between education, and adapt French religion? Then all of us, his grandchil- aunt, who is his youngest daughter, served him hot tea. His tea pot were like his bank accounts. They were usually full of money, bills, Vietnamese who were ancestor worshipers and the Vietnamese who dren were Christians and going to Catholic school. Was he a loser was kept warm inside a handmade coconut box in Vietnamese tradi- and coins. Grandpa used to open a pin on his pocket to take money adapted Catholic from French colonists. One was considered going or a traitor? One thing I can be sure of that we are always proud of tional style and was inherited from generations. He always drank out and count whenever he sat alone. He would ask us to help him backward for rejecting the newness from civilization, one was called him. He was a progressive and admired grandfather to his grand- hot tea, not ice tea like us. The refreshed smell of lotus and jasmine if he heard our footsteps nearby and gave us coins after that. traitor for worshipping an exotic God. It caused many tragedies to children. His spiritual height was immeasurable with humanism. flower in my grandpa’s tea fulfilled me whenever I was with him. I “Here are coins for you. Keep for buying things in school,” my the Vietnamese couples, who were not the same religion and loved There were plenty of heroes in history who were famous for victo- began to like jasmine and lotus tea when I was ten. They remind me grandpa whispered. each other. There was no temperature in this region. The diffusion ries in battles. My grandfather was none of them. He was just an to my grandpa deeply. “No, we are not allowed to have money, grandpa,” we refused. of newness and the withstanding to preserve the old tradition was a anonymous scholar, but his figure was extremely glorious because he “Oh, come on, you can have it, just this time,” he insisted. long, intensive war in Vietnamese history and society. Unlike other was a hero of humanism. He made the right choice for his offspring “No, grandpa, mom will be angry if we receive money from the Vietnamese, my grandpa stood out of this war by his humanism, to have education for their lives; and at the same time, he recom- Unlike my mom, my paternal grandpa, who was adults. Money spoils children,” we repeated what was our mom’s which is one of the quintessence of Vietnamese culture, a culture mended a new and advanced thought to one of the strategies for of the old Vietnamese traditional culture, was an moral. combined of Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism. My father Vietnamese patriots. Of course, French colonists were unacceptable, ancestor worshiper; nonetheless, his progress to “OK, I got it. You guys are very good children and grandchildren. loved my mother who was a Christian. My maternal grandma but their science and technology were, and these were not part of adapt new thinking from European culture to his I am proud of you,” said my grandpa as he took back his money required my father that if he wanted to marry her daughter, he had our struggling for independence and progress. Indeed, my grandfa- at last. to be a Christian. My father was the eldest son who was responsible ther was a model figure of Vietnamese progressive, a wise patriotic life really amazed me. to worship ancestors and take care of the parents. It was a tough man. Consequently, you won’t be surprised to discover that why However, there was always my younger brother who was a sweet barrier for him to overcome. Nevertheless, my grandfather unloaded Vietnamese culture is a combination of Eastern and Western in son, an exception because he used to take money from grandpa to the burden for my father by allowing him to be a Christian and literature, language, and life style. My grandfather’s eyesight was not very clear at his old age. Unlike play and keep in his pocket, then lose it later. My mom didn’t scold married my mom. My grandpa said: “There is no false religion, my grandmother, who just wanted to be at home, my grandpa went him when I reported it to her. He was her sweet son. He was just just false practice person. The only religion all humans need to Our earth would be more peaceful, happy and less violent, less out often with his walking stick. He went here and there to visit his like my father’s picture when he was a boy. My mom who finished know is humanism.” painful if humanism were promoted in every part of the world, grandchildren. I could say that he particularly loved me among his her high school in a Catholic school, who could speak French, was wouldn’t it? grandchildren. He asked my name first when he went to our house also an old Vietnamese traditional person. You could understand Several years later after my grandpa’s death, thinking of advances in and did not hear my voice greeting him together with my brothers the Vietnamese proverb which says: ten girls are equal one boy by his life, I thought about how he made choices and was seen very and sisters. He liked to talk to me about what I am doing in school observing her attitude to her sons. An eldest sister like me had to be close as a traitor. According to Vietnamese history in the 17th and and in my job later after I had done with high school. I got plenty a loser to her sons every time. of moral lessons from him for my life: to be patient with people around, to be patient with what I aimed for my life. The best thing Unlike my mom, my paternal grandpa, who was of the old Viet- which he taught me was before I left for Japan. He instructed me namese traditional culture, was an ancestor worshiper; nonetheless, ************** that I should learn more of Japanese culture in Japan and show how his progress to adapt new thinking from European culture to his life Maria Tran was born and raised in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. She speaks Vietnamese, Japanese, English, and some Spanish. good Vietnamese culture is to them. I think this advice was signifi- really amazed me. My grandpa loved and treated me equally with She has been enrolled at North Hennepin Community College since the fall of 2004 and graduated on May 16, 2009 with an cant to my success in Japan. All my friends and neighbors in Japan his grandsons. Furthermore, he was highly proud of me because Associate in Arts degree. She has an unlimited passion for human beings based on her life experiences. She wants to be a writer and who never seen or had chance to be with a Vietnamese before gave a what I achieved in school was much better than my brothers and have her stories raise consciousness of social injustice, such as victims of domestic abuse, sexism, and racism. high evaluation to Vietnamese people and culture through commu- sisters, and my respect and concern for my grandparents were quite nicating and associating with me. Even though my son and I left high. Like Chinese, a son is very important in Vietnamese culture. Japan six years ago, our friends and neighbors in Japan still keep in A son will keep family name exist with his wife who changes her touch with us until now. Someone plan to visit us in America and family name into his after marriage him, who will bear his children some are waiting for our visit in Japan. Is it the art of living or to multiply his family members. A son, his wife, and his children associating that my grandpa’s morals awarded me? My grandpa will have to live with his parents and grandparents to take care of passed six months after I went to Japan. My brothers, sisters, them until they die. Moreover, a son and his family will worship his

53 Realities, 2009: My Grandfather: A Progressive and Wise Patriotic Vietnamese Realities, 2009: My Grandfather: A Progressive and Wise Patriotic Vietnamese 54 # # # # # A Little Girl # # # # # # # # the old country by Jon Kautz by Jessica Hanson

s I stepped off the plane, I had butterflies in my stomach. I had Over the following days my friend had to go to school. Her little n the foothills of Southern Italy, in the town of Casacalenda, in life in the U.S. He hadn’t seen his family since he left, nor his A just arrived in Finland for my very first time. I had been email- sister and I became very good friends. She was only six and could Ithe Molise region, far from the hustle and noise of Rome, is a daughter Carmela, who was born after he left. As the Augustus ing a girl about my age for several years, and now I was finally going not speak a work of English but this did not stop her from making quiet village. A young girl, Yate (as she is called in her native di- pulled into New York harbor, Yates’s brown eyes grow wide when to her house for two weeks. As I walked towards the baggage claim, me feel at home. All day long she would show me around her yard alect) Continelli gathers water at the local town well to meet the she sees the Statue of Liberty from her ship. She has never seen I was drowned in thought, “Will she like me? Will we have anything and house, bringing me toys and little things from the outside daily needs of her family. The sun shines on the tarnished and anything so large before. Suddenly Yate realized that so many more to talk about? What if we don’t get along?” I tried to push these world. We would lie in the grass under sun and tell each other weathered copper pots she uses to collect the water. The pots clink new things waited for her to discover. thoughts away telling myself that everything would be fine. I got my things in our own language. And we would laugh. When we together as Yate waits for others to fill their pots with water, Yate, bag and walked towards the sliding exit doors. There she was with laughed I felt so warm inside. Like the sun was shining all of its age five, finally gets the chance to fill her pot and once it is full, she her dad. Although we had always chatted excitedly about the time warmth on just us. Life was so happy with this little girl. It seemed places the filled pot upon her head. It is a long walk uphill, back to Suddenly Yate realized that so many more new when we would meet each other, this moment was hardly what we like there was nothing that could be wrong in the world. All trou- the families’ one room home. things waited for her to discover. had expected. Both of us were extremely shy. “Oh no,” I moaned to bles faded. She had a happy little spirit inside of her that touched myself, “I should have known.” But on the way home we began to my heart. In the evenings when my friend returned home from When Yate returns home she finds her mother preparing the dough get more comfortable with each other, and she started to point school she would translate for us. This was nice in a way but it for the bread. “Ma, are you leaving soon to bake the bread?” but Over the years Yate longed for the day to return to her childhood things out and answer some of my questions. seemed like we understood each other without it. Marietta doesn’t answer. She just continues her kneading of the home. So some sixty-six years later, Yate, now a grandmother, finds dough. Marietta speaks to the dough in an attempt to get the dough herself on a bumpy bus ride back to her little village. Yate can This was a very big learning experience for me. I never knew that I just right for baking. She cares for the dough as if it were an injured hardly keep seated on the bus that she took from Rome to her old This was a very big learning experience for me. could become so close to someone who spoke a different language. animal. She mumbles under her breath something in Italian. Young childhood home, back to the old country, back to Casacalenda. I never knew that I could become so close to Yet here I was befriending a little girl who did not understand a Yate looks on as her mother tends to her dough. Yate pushes back As the bus slows to a stop, Yate is nearly straining her neck to see word I said. We did understand each other, though. I realized that her black hair which reveals her native olive skin. Once the dough is everything; she searches for any clues that would give her some someone who spoke a different language. we do not need words and language to understand. It doesn’t matter ready, Marietta leaves the home to bake the bread, since they do not recognition of faint memories from so long ago. Once the bus where we come from or what language we speak. Everyone is a have electricity or any modern conveniences. Marietta exits her stopped, Yates’s grip on the handrail loosens, and she prepares to human made by God and are meant to live together on earth. home and walks down the worn out cobble stone streets with the meet her childhood memories as an adult. As she steps off the bus It was late when we got back to her house and everyone was sleep- dough in tow. Marietta arrives at the communal oven where several and looks around, Yate takes a deep breath; her old village was dif- ing. As I lay in bed, I could not help but think about what the next The trip went by very fast. When it was time for me to return other women are there. The women are all wearing scarves, black ferent. She doesn’t have any memory of automobiles in her little two weeks might bring. I did not know then the relationship that I home, I had the hardest time saying goodbye to her. We both cried aprons and talking and making great gestures with their arms and town; she has memories of donkey carts. Still the town is familiar to would make with the most unexpected person. The next morning and said goodbye in our own languages. Although I have not seen hands as they speak. The oven is just a simple stone and brick oven. her; feelings are now more than memories were a part of her. A dis- was a Saturday. I woke up late. My friend greeted me cheerfully and her for years, her memory still lingers, the young girl who captured It is on a cobble stone road that is about ten feet wide. The narrow tant cousin, Josephine is waiting for her and she starts to speak to introduced me to the rest of her family, her mother, father, ten-year- my heart and made me understand. street is lined with stone residences that have stood for centuries. Yate in the old native dialect. Yates’s heart races: the old language old brother and six-year-old sister. My friend and both of her par- The smell of baking bread is everywhere. she thinks! I haven’t heard that tongue in a long time. And she ents speak exceptionally good English. We chatted while eating. amazes herself when she starts to speak in the dialect. She is a little In 1930, the Continelli family boarded the ship Augustus; its ten frightened, but she knows she is home again, Yate’s fears turn to joy, day journey would leave the old county and change their lives and as she walks back down those same old cobblestone streets, she forever. Young Yate and her family were bound for New York City. still smells the bread baking in the air. ************** Her father Giambattista had left the family in 1924 seeking a better Jessica Hanson, 18, has always lived in the USA but traveled in Finland for two weeks when she was 13. She does not speak any foreign languages fluently but has had two years of Spanish and has learned some of the Finnish language on her own. She would love ************** to study for one year in Finland some time in the future. This is her fourth semester at North Hennepin Community College, and she Jon Kautz has been a student at North Hennepin Community College for a long time; however, he graduated in spring 2009. is completing an Associate degree this year. This coming fall she will be getting a Bachelor’s in nursing at St. Cloud State University. When he went back to the “Old Country” with his family in 1996, he did not realize how timeless and precious memories can be. An assignment in his geography class renewed a desire to find out where some of his family’s roots are. He enjoyed researching information for this paper and interviewing family members. He has not traveled much in his life, but he plans to make travel a priority in his life, make his own memories, and have family stories of his own one day that his children can share.

55 Realities, 2009: A Little Girl Realities, 2009: The Old Country 56 Realities: Call for Submissions for Second Issue Realities: Guidelines for Submission of Manuscripts

To be published during the 2009-10 Academic Year Eligibility: Current students at North Hennepin Community College may submit their non-fiction writings (personal essays, memoirs, and Realities, a new publication of North Hennepin Community College, publishes non-fiction writings that are narratives of significant observations). Students must be enrolled in at least one of the two semesters for the academic year in which Realities is published. life-encounters crossing cultural boundaries. As such, the publication accepts for consideration accounts from NHCC students from: • International Cultures Manuscript Requirements: • United States Cultures Submit your manuscript with a cover page as an electronic file to [email protected]. Save the electronic file of your manuscript as a Word file (.doc or .docx). Or, if you are using a word processor other than Word, save your file as Rich Text Format (.rft). The nature of the writings may capture reflections, insights, or observations that in some way reveal experiences of cultural difference, The cover page should include: connection, celebration, or conflict. The writings may have themes of prosperity, poverty, war, peace, sadness, joy, sickness, recovery; • Your name (as you would like it to appear in the publication) they may be humorous or serious. What they should all have in common is that they: • Address • Be part of the record of the breadth and depth of human experience • Telephone number • Preserve and promote an elastic understanding that softens hard-casted definitions of what it means to be human • Email address The only caveat is that they should not promote, in whole or in part, a political or religious agenda. • A brief biographical statement (A few sentences that give some personal background such as where you and/or your parents are from, where you have lived/traveled, what languages you speak, how long you have been at NHCC, and any other information Realities is published once a year in the spring semester. However, it accepts writings from NHCC students any time during the you would like to include). Please write your biography in the third person. fall semester and up to the deadline in the spring semester. Writers of all levels are encouraged to participate. • Title of the manuscript Minor requirements include: • Manuscript format: All margins one-inch; font Times New Roman 12pt; line spacing single; paragraph indent one-half inch • A copy of your manuscript saved as an electronic file If you fail to follow these requirements, your work will not be accepted for review. Paper copies of your manuscript will not be • A brief biography, also saved as an electronic file accepted. The editors of Realities reserve the right to edit both the manuscript and biography for clarity. Help with Editing: Editors will be available to work with you on your writing prior to publication. Suggested Length: The suggested length is anywhere from a ½ page to 3 pages. Some longer pieces may be considered. Deadlines: Possible Subject Matter: The subject matter is very open. Some interesting topics may include: Please submit your manuscript by the last day of the fall semester and the first Monday after the spring break. Look for actual dates posted on Realities posters. • Descriptions of serving, working, or studying in a country outside the U.S. • Traditions, ceremonies, rites, celebrations, and rituals, including marriage, funerals, and special holidays Editing: • Feasts and foods If your manuscript is chosen for publication, a North Hennepin Community College faculty member may work with you to make • Insights into political situations and events editing changes or corrections needed to strengthen your writing. • Experiences of living in the U.S • Learning to speak another language or dialect • Issues related to growing up in more than one culture (bilingual families, for example) • Elders and younger generations • Religious and spiritual practices • Roles of men and women in different cultures • Childhood memories of your home country • Writing about art or artists from various cultural backgrounds (dance, music, literature, visual arts, or film) • Stories about how your family immigrated to the U.S. • Refugee stories • Stories told to you by your elders; interviews with elders • What it is like to be a U.S. citizen (of whatever background) living abroad for a period of time • Issues related to citizenship These are just a few ideas. We welcome a wide variety of topics!

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