Entries from the Encyclopedia of Me by Andrea

Andrea

My middle name.  

If you look it up in a book of baby names, you’ll find it means “womanly”.  That’s because in the early years of women’s liberation, the common meaning “a man’s woman” was rejected in favor of the more powerful and independent description. Okay, then. I am woman. Hear me roar!

I am from South Carolina where my name, at least the pronunciation, is not very common.  There, I always have to pronounce it.  Always have to spell it.  

Scene:  Local Starbucks or sandwich shop in the great Palmetto State

Me (smiling sweetly):  It’s Andrea.

Them (pausing):  Um, can you say that again?

Me (happy to help): “Andrea”... like /Andre/ with an /Uh/, spelled like Andrea /Ann-dree-uh/.

Them (with a quizzical look):  Can you spell that?  

When I place an order in a coffee shop or restaurant here in Texas, I feel like Norm from the old television show Cheers. Everybody knows my name! In fact, the server taking my order probably has my name.  It seems I meet an Andrea every week. I even know a man with the name.  He and his son both. He is not even Italian. From uncommon to a dime a dozen. Pick what you choose, Punchinella.

Books…

• I will read again and again: Watership Down, Little Women, A Voice in the Wind, The Language of Flowers, Tuesdays with Morrie, The Color Purple

• I will never read: The Help, Gone with the Wind, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy,  Twilight,  Fifty Shades of Grey (These are not my cup of coffee... I’m not judging you!)

• no one will ever believe I read because I cannot believe it: How to Read a Book (original publication from 1940), Pilgrim’s Progress (in modern English), a book entitled Stretching (obviously, to learn how to stretch)
  
  
  

**A few little secrets about my reading life: I read anywhere from 3-5 books in the same time period. I have been known to sort of, maybe read while I drive (as I am slowly pulling up to approach the stoplight or am sitting at the light, not while I actively drive). I have no fewer than 20 books right now waiting to be read. And I honestly think I'm going to get them all read, like, soon. We all have problems. Crazy reading habits are one of my 99.

Coffee

People use the word love quite flippantly.  I will not be so trite. My feelings for coffee are real.  I delight in it.  I cherish it.  I am devoted to it.  And get this, it’s not about the caffeine.  I drink decaf. (Yes, I know there is still some caffeine in decaf.  It’s a nominal amount. Dr. Google will confirm my facts if you still doubt.) I cannot imagine my life without it.  I tried once in the last 15 years to quit coffee.  I cannot even remember why.  I was a young, foolish girl.  I quickly got over that terrible lapse in judgment.  The best cup (by cup, I mean a lot of cups) of coffee I have ever had in my life happened just a couple of months ago in New Orleans.  The Big Easy is serious about its coffee.  On almost every corner sits a coffee shop.  One can even get a good-from-the-first-sip cup at a corner store or gas station.  I inhaled my first coffee & chicory cafe au lait at the aptly named Cafe Avenue on St. Charles Avenue. A truly divine concoction such as the likes I shall never taste until I return. I tried to make it at home. It works for now. Over four days, I made my way around The Coffee Crescent City - from Cafe Beignet, to Morning Call ending at the world famous Cafe du Monde.  Cafe au lait and beignets. Glory to glory!  I thought I had died and gone to coffee heaven.  

Wait, will there be coffee in heaven?  I can.not.even. imagine heaven’s coffee. Ooooh-la-la!  Surely, there is coffee in heaven.  The Bible says He brews many, many times.  (Hehe. Get it?)

Damien

I birthed the first of my tribe at 16 years old. (Yes, it was scandalous. And we all lived to tell about.)  He came one week late.  Labor was 29 hours- start to finish.  Did I mention I was 16? That’s too long for a seasoned mother. Born with a little trouble breathing and totally yellow, from head to toe, with severe jaundice, he was whisked away from me and spent his first eight days of life under lights with tiny, newborn sunglasses velcroed to the side of his head. (Yes, the dents on his temples eventually went away. Now that I think about it, those dents might explain a lot about his teen years.)

At almost 21 inches and 8 lbs 1 oz, he was the Hulk of the NICU.  Unfortunately, the tables turned, and he is the shortest of his siblings (and his wife). He always comments that he is the cute one whenever someone points out this fact. Good thing he didn't develop a Napoleon complex. No, he's not that short.  He says cuteness is his claim to fame.  He and his wife will give us our first grandchild this fall.  A little boy. I pray everyday the little guy is as exceptional as his daddy- that he will be their true claim to fame.   #myfavoriteson

They're pretty cute, right?

Ernie

My first name.  

I think my mother and godmother thought it would be “unique”, “cute” and “fun”. Just like the person I’d grow up to be...badumbum. My godmother’s name is Ernestine nicknamed Ernie.  Sesame Street had made its debut three years earlier.  You see where I’m going with this?  Naming a little girl Ernie in 1972 made perfect sense, right?  It would be trendy.  The start of girls with old men boy names.  Except... for the first 18 years of my life, new people and familiar people peppered greetings with such teasing as “Hey, Ernie!  Where’s Bert?” or “Did your parents want a boy?” or “Were you named after your father?”  

Most of the time these questions came from adults.  They should know better.  Childhood can be tough enough.  As I simultaneously tried to find and recreate myself senior year of high school, I dropped Ernie and introduced myself as Andrea.  The name change didn't really work for the old people who'd known me... from birth.  To this day, as soon as I cross the South Carolina border, I am Ernie--- said as slow and drawn out as pouring molasses. “Eeeearn-knee”

Pluckers with our favorite server! Teriyaki wings and fries.  Every. time.

Food

I am not a big eater, but I love to cook.  Let me rephrase that.  I used to love to cook. I used to make fabulous, sit-down, themed dinners.  Now, I’m tired, and my kids are almost adults and hardly ever at home. My husband is quite gracious.  He acts like Costco chicken, canned beans and microwaved white rice make a gourmet meal.  Sometimes, he eats cereal.  Just a few short years ago, I would not have dreamed of letting my man eat cereal for dinner! (Before you wag your finger, ladies, he cooks, too. We are an equal opportunity household.)  A cool part of having almost grown children, who can feed themselves using their own money, is my hubby and I can now afford to go to my favorite restaurant almost every Friday to eat my favorite food on the planet- chicken wings.  And because I’m a teacher, we get a free appetizer, too!  #perks

Greene Girls

Emary (18), Abrea (20), Alisa (17)

Three daughters.  Abrea, Emary and Alisa.  Different as earth, wind and fire, but they have been a package deal since 1997 when the trio was complete.  Friends and family used to apologize (sort of) for not knowing who was whom. Once, I overheard a philosophical young boy of about 5 years old say to his mother as we walked by, “Those girls look like time.”  Curious, I stopped as I heard his mom inquire as to what he meant.  He replied, “They look like the same person at different times (meaning ages).”  

They are stairsteps. Thirty-three months from first to third. When they were younger, if seated, most people thought they were triplets.  In fact, Emary and Alisa are the same age for 6 days each year. Don’t judge us. 

Many years ago, the 4 year-old daughter of friends lamented as her parents admonished her to call the girls each by name, “But they all look the same.  I am not sure which is which.”  To solve her dilemma, she dubbed them collectively “The Greene Girls”.  No matter which she wanted to address, she’d say “Greene Girl”. The name stuck.  Just about everyone uses it still in much the same way.  The girls are seen as a unit.  Though as different as night and day and twilight,  they really are three Greene peas in a pod.  Exactly the kind of love connection among my girls for which I prayed.

Husband and I

He (a poem)

He and I

He makes a superb pot of coffee

And fixes my cup exactly the way I like.  

He takes care of me 

And everybody.  

He holds my hand.  

And opens my door.

He is my best friend, my treasure from heaven.

And after him, God broke the mold  

He is one of a kind 

And perfectly mine.

Top Ten Books I Read While Recovering

I have been a book lover all my life but it is the first time in 52 years that I have broken a bone.  I fell, twisted my ankle and broke the third metatarsal bone in my left foot and was told that I could not put any weight on it for six weeks.  So for the first time in my adult life I was given permission to not do anything but sit on a coach and read.  And I happily did for the first two weeks of my recovery.  I read quite a few books but here is my top ten list:

1.  Reading in the Wild by Donalyn Miller:  I love this book not because I am a teacher and I work with other teachers of reading, but because it was about me!

A wild reader since the age of four.  I read anywhere and everywhere, in the car, in the bathroom, while eating breakfast by myself, on my phone at night if I don't want to get up and turn on the light (which has been the case often during my convalescence), while breastfeeding (not recently, of course!), or waiting in line at an amusement park.  For years I collected books that I was going to read when I stayed home with my babies.  I didn't know I would have the kind of babies that never slept or sat down.  Instead I read books to them and with them.  Ten years ago I became a teacher and somehow I developed this anxiety that there will never be enough time to read all the books that I want and need to read.  So I started reading multiple books at a time.

This is taking reading multiple books a time to a whole new level!

Donalyn Miller made me feel part of a community of people that share these crazy habits and gave me the language to share my passion with others.

2.  Grave Mercy by Robin Lafevers:  Again I must thank Donalyn for turning me on to this book. She mentions it in the chapter on reading preferences, as one of her preferences.  When my daughter and my friend Andrea saw the book in my to-read pile, both had the same expression on their faces and the same question:"You are going to read a book about assassin nuns who are really the daughters of Death and go around killing traitors to the Duchess of Brittany in 1489?" I said: Yes, I am branching out.  If I ask teachers and kids to have a varied reading diet, it is only fair that I try it myself.  I finished the 549 pages in a couple of days and went on to read the next two books in the series.  It goes to show that good writing is good writing.

3.  American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang:  I know better than to snub graphic novels.  I think they can be highly sophisticated and it takes a special kind of writer to know what words to put on paper and what to leave for the reader to figure out on his own.  But I know that I have not read widely in this genre so this was another new territory to explore while I had the time.  I read several graphic novels during this period but this one in particular resonated with me because it was about living on the edge of two cultures and trying to find a true identity that is not strictly one or the other.

4.  Echo by Pam Muñoz Ryan:  My students remember me as "that teacher who read us Esperanza Rising".  The year I had a student teacher in my room, I told him right off the bat that he could take over teaching everything but I would be the one reading Esperanza to my class.  I have read everything Pam Muñoz Ryan has written and was so excited to have bought her newest book Echo, right before my accident.  It is magic inside a historical fiction, inside a fairy tale.  Brilliant!

5.  Aurora County All-Stars by Deborah Wiles:  It is not often that you are reading a children's novel about kids wanting to play a baseball game in some small town in Mississippi and you burst out crying because you find out who is the surprise pinch hitter.  It is not often that I read books about baseball or any sport for that matter. But good writing is good writing.   I loved this book so much I wrote a review of it and tweeted it. Shortly after that, I heard from the author.  I felt like I had reached out and touched a star!

6.  Turtle in Paradise by Jennifer L. Holm:  I read this in one afternoon.  It is a fairly short children's novel.  When I put it down, I realized I had been totally transported to Key West, Florida in 1935, lived through a hurricane, learned some local lingo and met Ernest Hemingway.  I have been doing this kind of time/space travel since I was very little. I highly recommend it!

7.  Getting to Got It:  Helping Struggling Students Learn How to Learn by Betty K. Garner: Teaching should not be like shooting in the dark.  The brain is a powerful and mysterious organ but thanks to science and technology we have learned a lot about how it works.  Teachers should be equipped with more diagnostic tools to be able to help students learn and more importantly learn how to learn. This book should be required reading in teacher prep programs.

8.  Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal:  Amy starts with A and writes about her name and continues down the alphabet recording random thoughts and memories.  I bet we all could do that.  For those who keep a diary or a writing journal, just give a title to each entry and then alphabetize them.  We all deserve to write the encyclopedia of our own life.

9. Crossover by Kwame Alexander:  There have been several novels in verse lately, especially for children.  This one is particularly good.  The format lends itself well to a story about basketball and the back and forth banter between rival twins and their father.  Once again I found myself reading a book about sports but as I have been saying . . .

10.  My prayer book:  When I was very young I learned this verse by heart: "The healer of all thine ills is remembrance of Me, forget it not." And I have never forgotten.  These past eight weeks I have prayed that my foot heals quickly so I don't have to be a burden to those around me.  But more often I have prayed out of gratitude, that my injury did not require surgery, that my mother spent almost two weeks taking care of me, that my family has been holding down the ship while I do the bare minimum of household chores, that an angel lend me a scooter that made the envy of every kindergartner (and some adults) at my school.  I have also prayed for the healing of others, who are in more pain than me, who are more uncertain of their recovery and who have loved ones that worry about them.

It's all good.

Embracing the "Weird"

It was the end of a busy day, at the end of a long week, and I was looking forward to relaxing completely with my little family!  We filed into our favorite row at the movie theater, and got situated passing out cups of popcorn.  Once everyone had what they needed, I headed to the bathroom, with my daughter in tow, to change out of my heels and into something more comfortable. 

As I am finishing up, I let out sigh of relief but stop mid breath.

“Sophia, do you think people will think I am weird because I walked in wearing a dress, and now I am wearing shorts and a tee shirt?”

Using her vast experience, and 8 years of wisdom she comments, “Maybe mommy, but who cares?  Everyone is a little weird in their own way.”

I feel a little silly after her comment.  I am the mother.  It is my job to teach and model to my daughter the truly important things in life.  Being kind.  Respecting other people.  Keeping your word.  Showing integrity.  I want her to be a strong, loving woman who is sure about herself and her worth.  I want her to feel confident in whom she is as a person.  Not because of what she wears on the outside or what others think of her. 

I remember being that sure of myself once.  I wasn’t worried about how I was perceived by others because it never crossed my mind that someone might think something negative about me.  It just wasn’t on the radar.  I wondered to myself how I got this way. How I allowed the opinions of others to make me question myself.  People will always have an opinion about what I do or how I do it, whether positive or negative, its still there.  Looming over like a gray cloud.  The trick is to know you.  To pull out the umbrella of truth, and let the comments or messages not soak you and leave you cold.   Instead, play in the puddles of criticism, and show others how fun it can be.

In the little bathroom stall, as I am placing my clothes back into my pink and black bag, I am proud of my little wise young lady.  I know society, and outside influences will already be speaking messages of inadequacy, as my girl gets older.  I want to model a different message.  I want to show her that it is ok to be who you are, because everyone is unique and special, and as she so eloquently put it, a little weird in his or her own way. 

           

I walk out and I embrace my little bundle of uniqueness.  I look up to her, while I look down at her smile.  And we walk out, hand in hand, confident and secure. 

~Esmer

A Listicle of Listicles by Carolyn

My writing sisters and I have each committed to write a listicle for this round of blog posts. As you might suspect, a listicle is an article in the form of a list. I encounter listicles most often in magazines ("The Top Ten Things to Do When You Visit Cape Cod"), but they certainly live elsewhere, made famous (at least to me) on late-night television talk/variety shows ("The Top Ten Reasons We Love/Hate So-and-So").

Last weekend I discussed this writing assignment with my younger son. He is an excellent collaborator when I need to generate ideas, so I seized the opportunity to talk through this with him while I had him captive on a road trip.  Between the starting point and the ending point of our journey, we brainstormed quite a hefty list of possible listicles! Now the problem becomes not, "What can I possibly write about?", but "How do I choose what to write about?"

So, taking the coward's way out, I present my listicle of possible listicles (in no particular order except that this is how they fell out of my head onto the paper):

The top ten . . . 

• things I've learned since turning 50
• things I've learned as the parent of grown children
• things I wish I had done
• things I wish I could still do
• reasons I miss my mother
• reasons I miss my grandmother
• careers I might have enjoyed
• jobs that should exist but don't
• jobs of the future
• things I would spend money on if I had any
• moments that make my heart beat faster (in a good way)
• types of women I would like to be but am not
• reasons I should have been a cowgirl
• reasons I love my job
• parenting mistakes I made
• qualities I am looking for in a soulmate
• reasons I'm glad I live in Texas
• reasons I love Ireland
• holidays that should exist but don't
• things I used to do but am too cautious to do now
• best bumper stickers I've ever seen
• physical traits I wish I had
• physical traits I am very glad I don't have
• most significant moments of my life
• best ranch names
• talents I wish I had
• streets I don't want to live on because they have stupid names
• dissertations I could write based on life experiences
• words that should be in the dictionary but aren't
• most beautiful words in the English language
• stores that should exist
• restaurants that should exist
• theme parks that should exist
• childhood pastimes that have pretty much disappeared
• championships that should exist
• names I'm glad my parents didn't choose for me
• life lessons I have learned from obsessively reading/watching/listening to Pride and Prejudice

If you have read this far, you probably have the potential to create a list of possible listicles for yourself! In fact, I challenge you to do just that. You may find it strangely addictive. Post your ideas in a comment here on our blog. Or, if you don't particularly relish the idea of writing a listicle, but you have a deep desire for me to actually write a real listicle about one of the topics above, please feel free to indicate that as well.

Now, my writing sisters might feel that this is not a "real" piece of writing, but I beg their indulgence just this one time - I cannot pick just one!  :)


Thanks, Kyle, for being my sounding board.

A Listicle: Quotes and Reflections on Friends by Andrea

The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it.

Hubert H. Humphrey

This list is dedicated to all my friends.  I love you and need you more than words could ever express. If you are reading this and you consider me a friend, know these words are for you.  Thank you for your patient love, generous encouragement and boundless support.  You make me better, and I more than love you.

1. A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future and accepts you just the way you are.  -Unknown

I have a friend (or two or 12) who knows pretty much all there is to know about me.  When both pleasant and unpleasant memories surface, and I make some connection to who I am or what I do today, I typically share these with my friend, Not So Easily Shocked.  With this friend, I can process my past, present and possibilities.  They say ‘Confession is good for the soul’- by baring my deepest secrets and fears I am freed from the shallow graves of shame and guilt.  

2. There are some people in life that make you laugh a little louder, smile a little bigger and live just a little bit better. -Unknown

The very first time I spent any significant time with Laughs As Easily as Breathing, we talked into the wee hours of the morning and by talked I mean laughed.  We sat in my car for almost six hours, and each segment of conversation was flavored with hearty, uproarious laughter.  Passersby surely thought we were naughty teens making out in my minivan, the way the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged from our raucous laughter. No matter how serious the topics we must discuss, the tragedies of our lives to share, comedy will reign in the end.  One quality I appreciate most in all of my friends is their willingness to let their hair down and laugh!

3. Hard times will always reveal true friends. -Not Known

Through each decade of my life, I have had to endure challenging circumstances that could have taken me out of life!  For instance, when I found myself pregnant, afraid and ashamed at 16 years old, He and She Who Understands, stood by me without judgment or surprise.  If either thought any less of me, I never knew nor felt it.  Life throws lots of lemons my way, my truest friends join me on the porch for a tall, homemade glass of lemonade.

4. As we grow up, we realize it is less important to have lots of friends, and more important to have real ones. -Ziad K. Abdelnour

As a true extrovert, I have always had lots and lots of friends. I have counted it a blessing to be able to move from group to group in personal, academic and professional settings and feel included.  Though I view this as a strength and blessing, as I have grown up, I find myself desiring to spend my free time mostly with a few people I know well and who know me- friends I thoroughly enjoy such as She Who Makes Me Think,  She Who Makes Me Laugh, She Who Loves to Talk, She Who Loves to Listen, She Who Is Positive, She Who is Wise, She Who Lets Me Be.

5. True friends are the ones who have nice things to say about you behind your back.  -Unknown

It is so encouraging to meet someone for the first time through a mutual friend or colleague and that person say “I am so glad to meet you! I’ve heard nothing but good things about you from So and So!”  One of my nearest and dearest friends was introduced to me by another friend who thought we would make a good “friend connection.”  Following the initial awkward meet-your-new-best-friend introduction and wonderings about ‘how will we break it to her if we don’t hit it off’, it was plain to see that She Who Knew Us Well had orchestrated a connection. I’m happy to proclaim decades later, I love her as much as I did after our first blind friend date!    

6. Friends are the family we choose for ourselves. -Author Unknown

My brothers and sister have no children.  I have nieces and nephews by marriage,

and as grateful as I am for them, distance and time have kept us away from them for most of their growing years.  This makes my bonus niece and nephews that much more precious to me. I delight in their visits, hugs, notes and stories as much as I did with my own children. We earned the names Auntie and Uncle within two weeks of meeting, an easy transition because their mom became my sister just as quickly.  Sometimes, it boggles my mind how close we’ve all become within a short period of time. Surely, we were just separated at birth.  We are definitely brothers from another mother and sisters from another mister.  And this relationship we have with so many of our friends!

7. Best friends make the good times better and the hard times easier.

I went through a bit of a rough patch, once.  I was feeling very challenged by circumstances of life that were completely out of my control.  I sank into depression, having a hard time just doing routine, everyday things.  My friends rallied around me in ways I’ll never be able to repay.  My sister-friends, Truthteller, The Encourager and Faithfulness held my head, heart and hands with the gentleness and love of a mother.  To paraphrase words credited to Albert Einstein ‘my friends showed me everyday they know the song in my heart and were able to sing it back to me when I had forgotten the words.’  

8. Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.  Anais Nin

She Who Makes Me Think has opened up worlds of art, literature, writing, faith and service, hobbies and more which has, in turn, helped me to find more of myself.  And the blessing of it all is that I have multiple of these friends!  I love intellectual and spiritual pursuits so to be surrounded by women more intelligent, wise and lived than I could ever be, pushes me more toward excellence daily.  I write. I teach. I speak. I dream. I try. I serve. I love. I am MORE because of them.

9. Our time together is just never quite enough. -Owl City

As young girls, well into our teens, one of my first cousins and I would play and hang out together ALL DAY long.  Then we’d ask our mothers if we could spend the night with each other.  They couldn’t believe after so much time together we’d want more..  Now as an adult, I have friends that I could and have spent hours upon hours of my day(s) with and ‘t were it not for husbands, children and other grown-up responsibilities would have sat even longer over cups of coffee, plates of hors d'oeuvres or perusing shops, museums and the like.

10. Sometimes talking to your best friend is all the therapy you need.  -Unknown

We talk on most Tuesdays.  Standing appointment around 4:30 pm CST.  Sometimes, I get to be the therapist.  Sometimes She counsels me.  We are both lightened and enlightened by each conversation.  The only cost is an open-mind, undivided attention and a clear cellular connection!  Getting advice, talking through wonderings, hopes and concerns with my confidantes and counseling friends has saved me thousands of dollars through the years. I'm crazy and my best friends know and love this about me. They keep me steady and focused on the right thing. Mostly just by listening well.

11. If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus 1 day so I never have to live without you. -Winnie the Pooh

I am one of the blessed few people on Earth who has been fortunate enough to have as one of my best friends the matriarch of a tribe of over 100 people.  As a small child, I prayed Pooh’s words in my own way.  I couldn’t and still cannot imagine a day without She Who Gives Life. Blessed I am to have innumerable women in my life that I cannot bear the thought of living without.

12. You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.  -Jim Rohn

Anything worthwhile in me, I owe in large part to my friends.  If there are things in me that I need to change, well, I owe in large part to my friends.  All the things I love about myself, I see in my friends.  All the things I want to overcome in myself, it’s because I see what I can be in the examples of my friends.  My family is included here because they truly have been my first friends- my mommy, grandparents and siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins, my husband and children.  If I average out to be half of who they are, then I’ll be better than I could ever have been without them.

Who Am I? Part 2

By:  Susan

 The dreaded questions.  First night of class, first day on the job, conversation at a dinner party.  A natural, normal question:  Where are you from?  But the answer for me is complicated.  Do you want to know where I was born?  Or do you want to know where I come from intellectually, where did I get my education and where my ideas were born?  Or do you want to know where I have left my heart, where my children were born and where I found my sisters?  Because the answers are three different places on three different continents.  To be factual, I have to answer the first one.  I was born in Iran.  No, not Iraq, I say quickly, as if one is better than the other and the list of preconceived notions any more positive.  But I quickly point out that I have been living in the United States since I was fifteen years old.  Except for about twelve years when I lived in Venezuela.  To be truthful, I have to say that I am from all or none of those places; I am “ethnically ambiguous”.  

I am an Iranian who holds on to the values of deep respect for my parents, high regards for excellence in education and hospitality.  I am an American who cherishes individual thoughts and creativity and questions everything.  I am an honorary Latina because it is the culture where I raised my children and invented a whole new family with strangers who have remained close to me despite distance and time.  It is also the culture that for me is a nice blend of my Eastern and Western influences.

What defines me is not my race, culture or ethnicity.  It is not what I do or where I was born.  It is not what I have or what I want to have.  It is the core of my character.  Truthfulness, kindness, justice and compassion are not determined by the accidents of our birth or the choices we made about jobs and careers but by conscious decisions we make every day to live better, a little bit at a time.

My children sometimes wonder who they are.  Are we American, Persian or Latinos, they ask.  I tell them they are children of the Kingdom; they are the product of the East meeting the West and creating a new race of men.  Hopefully they have inherited all the gifts and positive qualities these cultures have to offer but are not tainted by the prejudices and small mindedness of their ancestors on either side.