April 17, 2019 § Leave a comment
“Bauhaus Movement: Every Time You Sit Down, Thank the German Art School”
Every time you plop yourself down in a chair at work, rush to your favorite seat in class, or lounge at your desk at home, you can think the Bauhaus Movement. The Bauhaus was originally a German arts school started in 1919, whose teachings eventually developed into an art and thought movement that inspired a generation of artisans, architects, and designers around the world. [April 12] was the centennial celebration of Bauhaus, and Google marked the occasion with a front-page doodle.
Hungarian furniture designer Marcel Breuer was one of the first and youngest students at the Bauhaus. He was quickly recognized for his carpentry skills, and in short order became the head of the school’s carpentry shop. Eventually, Breuer designed two pieces of furniture that changed chair design forever: the Cesca Chair and the Wassily Chair.
The Cesca was the first chair made out of a combination of tubular steel and caned seating that was also mass-produced, and has since become a common chair in offices and homes. . . .
[The Cesca] eventually became the blueprint for countless chairs after it. Cara McCarty, the former associate curator at the department of architecture and design at the Museum of Modern Art considered it to be a pivotal invention in furniture design.
“It’s among the 10 most important chairs of the twentieth century,” she told The New York Times in 1991.
Danny Paez, Inverse, April 12, 2019
April 12, 2019 § Leave a comment
When we brought one of our sons back to the States to start college, we heard a presenter at the new-student orientation stressing how we should let go and give our children the space to develop independence. We needed to resist the urge to call the dean after the first failed test, to keep in touch but not hover and interfere—in other words, not to be Helicopter Parents. That wasn’t exactly what we wanted to hear. Since we’d be living on the other side of the globe, we were looking for ways to feel closer, not farther apart.
But we also understood that most other parents weren’t in our situation and that we’d have to figure out, largely on our own, how to be the best Passport Parents we could be.
OK, I made up that parenting style, but I’m not the only one to create a new name for ways to raise children. In fact, we in the US have developed something of a cottage industry for parenting-label creation. It’s gotten so that there are so many classifications that it’s hard to keep them all straight. So, as a public service, I’m going to run through the ones I’ve come across. Most of these are American-made, but I’ve thrown in some cross-cultural examples as well for good measure.
So we’ll start with variations on helicoptering. . . .
While helicopter parents hover and intrude, Attack-Helicopter Parents swoop in ready for a fight when their children are threatened. They’re also known as Blackhawk Parents, Jet Fighter Parents, Stealth Fighter Parents, Stealth Bomber Parents, and Drone Parents—though Drone Parents can also be those who use high-tech to track their children’s every move. Traffic Helicopter Parents keep their distance but give advice when needed, while Satellite Parents don’t hover at all but instead are simply disengaged and uninvolved.
Other countries have their own versions of helicopter styles. In Hong Kong and Japan, in-your-face overly aggressive moms and dads are known as Monster Parents. Mothers in Gangnam, a wealthy district of Seoul, Korea, who micromanage their children’s education have gifted the world with the term Gangnam Moms. Kyoiku Mamas (“Education Moms”) are Japanese mothers who are overly concerned with their children’s academic success, and Pig Moms are wealthy Korean mothers who coddle their children as if they were piglets.
Tiger Mothers certainly don’t coddle their tiger-cub children. Coined by Chinese-American Amy Chua in her 2011 book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, this parenting label refers to an Asian style of strict parenting aimed at producing successful children. Not to be outdone, around the same time, Chinese dad Xiao Bayou wrote a book titled Beat Them Into Peking University (the title was later changed to the less threatening So, Brothers and Sisters of Peking University). He and other self-proclaimed Wolf Dads tout an uber-tough brand of raising over achievers. Cat Dads, on the other hand, are Chinese fathers who use a more sensitive, less authoritarian approach to child rearing.
The Singaporean versions of Tiger Moms are are called Lion Mums, which led researchers at Singapore’s Institute of Policy Studies (as reported in The Straits Times) to come up with the term Loving Lion Parents, for those who take a somewhat softer approach, prodding their kids to earn good grades without sacrificing a happy environment.
Recent college-admission scandals in the US have brought attention to the kind of parents who are eager to remove all obstacles and challenges from their children’s paths. They’re called Lawnmower Parents, Bulldozer Parents, Snowplow Parents, or Curling Parents (you know, after the sport where someone sweeps the ice in front of a “stone” to help it reach the target).
Stage Moms push their children to be actors, while Soccer Moms, Hockey Moms, Dance Moms, Cheer Moms, Sports Dads, and Tennis Dads devote time and effort toward their kids’ success in their respective activities.
In the face of all this over parenting, some have chosen to be Free Range Parents, giving freedom to their children to promote independence. This is not to be confused with Jellyfish Parents, who are overly permissive, expecting little from their children. In 2014, Psychiatrist Shimi Kang, born to Indian-immigrant parents in Canada, wrote The Dolphin Way: A Parent’s Guide to Raising Healthy, Happy, and Motivated Kids without Turning into a Tiger. She rejects tiger parenting and jellyfish parenting (she created that term) and instead tells moms and dads how to be Dolphin Parents who, she says, are “firm but flexible.”
More animal-inspired parenting options include Hummingbird Parents, who hover farther away, giving freedom, but fly in to help when needed, and Elephant Parents, who nurture and protect, particularly when their children are young.
More examples in the category of over-parenting are Sherpa Parents and Concierge Parents. Sherpa Parents, like Himalayan guides, do the heavy lifting and carry their children’s loads as they scale the mountains of life. And Concierge Parents serve their kids as if they were guests in a hotel. These are the opposite of Couch Potato Parents, who simply yell commands at their youngsters with no involvement or follow-up.
And then there are Facebook Parents, who overshare about their kids online.
Lighthouse Parents (from pediatrician Kenneth Ginsburg, in Raising Kids to Thrive: Balancing Love with Expectations and Protection with Trust) allow their children to explore the seas of life while they stay on the shore, pointing out dangers. Similarly, Submarine Parents stay under the surface but rise up when their children need them. And Duct Tape Parents (from Vicki Hoefle in Duct Tape Parenting: A Less Is More Approach to Raising Respectful, Responsible, and Resilient Kids) step away and keep their mouths closed to teach their young ones how to navigate life on their own.
Finally, I’ll end with mothers and fathers who are Dragon Parents. My first thought was that these were Tiger Parents on steroids, but that’s not it at all. While many of the labels above are used to snarkily point out parental shortcomings, this one has a much more profound message behind it. The name was coined by author Emily Rapp in a 2011 New York Times essay titled “Notes from a Dragon Mom.” She writes about caring for her little boy, Ronan, who had Tay-Sachs, a terminal genetic disorder. She presents a sobering picture:
Ronan won’t prosper or succeed in the way we have come to understand this term in our culture; he will never walk or say “Mama,” and I will never be a tiger mom. The mothers and fathers of terminally ill children are something else entirely. Our goals are simple and terrible: to help our children live with minimal discomfort and maximum dignity. We will not launch our children into a bright and promising future, but see them into early graves. We will prepare to lose them and then, impossibly, to live on after that gutting loss. This requires a new ferocity, a new way of thinking, a new animal. We are dragon parents: fierce and loyal and loving as hell. Our experiences have taught us how to parent for the here and now, for the sake of parenting, for the humanity implicit in the act itself, though this runs counter to traditional wisdom and advice.
Most of us will never need to be Dragon Parents. Instead we’ll be free to choose another model for raising our children. But whatever the path we take, we’ll all do well to learn, along with them, from them, “how to parent for the here and now.”
[photo: “Mother elephant with twins in Amboseli National Park, Kenya, East Africa,” by Diana Robinson, used under a Creative Commons license]
March 30, 2019 § Leave a comment
The opinion is often expressed that the present-generation missionary does not view his work as a work for life. —William Lennox
Not every former missionary gets an obituary printed in The New York Times, but in 1960, William Gordon Lennox did. Born in Colorado Springs in 1884, Lennox attended Colorado College, but when he applied to the Boston University Divinity School, he was rejected because of his deficiencies in Latin and Greek. For his fall-back plan, he earned a medical degree from Harvard Medical School, followed by spending four years as a medical missionary in China. It was during his time there that he saw epilepsy firsthand, and upon his return to the States, he devoted himself to the study of the disease, as a teacher and researcher at Harvard. In time, he became known as the “father” of the modern epilepsy movement in the US.*
Also, along the way, he wrote The Health and Turnover of Missionaries, in 1933. I referred to this book in my post “What Is the Average Length of Service for Missionaries on the Field? The Long and the Short of It, ” and having found a copy since then, I’d like to share more from this extensive study.
Before diving into the more recent findings, Lennox begins by taking a broad look back at “the entire journeyings of the missionary host.”
- In the more than 100 years of Protestant missionary work preceding the book’s publication, approximately 75,000 missionaries had gone out, providing around 1 million years of service.
- Their efforts resulted in 110 national Christians per missionary, or 8.3 for each year of work.
- These missionaries served an average of 12.5 years, with those married averaging 13.7 years, and singles, 8.5 years.
- By 1923, there were over 29,000 missionaries—representing 826 societies and committees in Europe, the United States, and Canada—serving abroad.
Continue reading Part I at A Life Overseas. . . .
(William Gordon Lennox, The Health and Turnover of Missionaries, Methodist Book Concern, 1933; “William Lennox Obituary,” The New York Times, July 23, 1960 (at Lasker Foundation, retrieved from the Internet Archive Wayback Machine)
Photo by Made By Morro
March 13, 2019 § Leave a comment
Who said, “No matter where you are you will always be looking at the same moon as I am”?
Romance writer Nicholas Sparks in Dear John? Nope. Immigrant mouse Fievel Mousekewitz in An American Tale? Nope again, though I’ve seen both credited. “Anonymous” is the best source I’ve found (though I’m open to any well-documented suggestions).
My searching, though, did turn up an interesting passage from African-American abolitionist and women’s rights advocate Sojourner Truth, in her Narrative of Sojourner Truth, a Northern Slave. The words aren’t exactly the same, but the sentiment is there—regardless of how far apart people are, they can still feel connected when they share the sight of the moon overhead.
In her autobiography, dictated to Olive Gilbert, Truth (born Isabella Baumfree) tells about her mother’s lessons for her and her younger brother. Mau-mau, as her daughter called her, had “some ten or twelve children” in all, but the older ones had been sold and taken away from her. Though Mau-mau Bett, the daughter of slaves from Guinea, spoke Low Dutch, Truth presents her words translated into English:
‘My children, there is a God, who hears and sees you.’ ‘A God, mau-mau! Where does he live?’ asked the children. ‘He lives in the sky,’ she replied; ‘and when you are beaten, or cruelly treated, or fall into any trouble, you must ask help of him, and he will always hear and help you.’ She taught them to kneel and say the Lord’s prayer. She entreated them to refrain from lying and stealing, and to strive to obey their masters.
At times, a groan would escape her, and she would break out in the language of the Psalmist—‘Oh Lord, how long?’ ‘Oh Lord, how long?’ And in reply to Isabella’s question—‘What ails you, mau-mau?’ her only answer was, ‘Oh, a good deal ails me’—‘Enough ails me.’ Then again, she would point them to the stars, and say, in her peculiar language, ‘Those are the same stars, and that is the same moon, that look down upon your brothers and sisters, and which they see as they look up to them, though they are ever so far away from us, and each other.’
Thus, in her humble way, did she endeavor to show them their Heavenly Father, as the only being who could protect them in their serious condition; at the same time, she would strengthen and brighten the chain of family affection, which she trusted extended itself sufficiently to connect the widely scattered members of her precious flock.
It’s an idea that crosses continents, languages, and cultures. It’s lasted hundreds of years and very well should last forever. Many miles. One moon. What could possibly disrupt that mathematical simplicity?
Maybe some extra moons?
According to China Daily, scientists in China have plans to put an artificial moon in place above the city of Chengdu by the year 2020. Covered with a reflective coating, the satellite would be able to reflect sunlight onto the earth’s surface at night in the same way that the real moon does. But the made-in-China moon would be eight times brighter, says Wu Chunfeng, head of the Tian Fu New Area Science Society. Other improvements over the natural moon are that it’s location and brightness could be controlled and it could be turned off if needed.
If successful, the moon over Chengdu would provide lighting one-fifth as bright as regular streetlights, and could save $174 million per year in electricity costs. If the first, experimental, moon is successful, says Wu, the plan is to launch three more in 2022, with those three being “the real deal with great civic and commercial potential.”
If you think it sounds like a bad idea—or maybe too good to be true—you can join the skeptics in the following video:
But don’t count the Chinese out just yet. They already have some experience in creating less-than-celestial bodies. As reported by Bloomberg Businessweek, China has built two islands, one circular, like the sun, and the other in the shape of a crescent moon. Located in Sun Moon Bay in the waters off Hainan, the two pieces of land cover approximately one square kilometer (about a third of a mile). The moon island was begun by private developers in 2015 (go to the Bloomberg article for a photo), but China has since banned such commercial projects because of environmental damage.
China has more credentials on the sun-building front as well. In 2006 (back to China Daily again for details), scientists in China brought its “artificial sun,” the Experimental Advanced Superconducting Tokamak (EAST), online. EAST is a tokamak magnetic fusion reactor located in Heifei that last year reached a record 100 million degrees Celsius (over 180,000,000 degrees Fahrenheit). That’s over six times hotter than the sun up in the sky.
And finally, in January, China became the first country to land a spacecraft on the far side of the moon. BBC reports that one of the purposes of the Chang’e-4’s mission is to gain “insights into the internal structure and history of the Moon.” Sounds as if that knowledge could come in handy for building a new one.
But until China’s lunar creativity comes to fruition, Mau-mau Bett’s words will still hold true. And the belief they represent will continue to be the stuff of longings, of comfort, and of song:
(Sojourner Truth, Narrative of Sojourner Truth, a Northern Slave, Emancipated from Bodily Servitude by the State of New York, in 1828, with a Portrait, Olive Gilbert, ed., 1850; Zhang Zhihao, “Man-Made Moon to Shed Light on Chengdu in 2020,” China Daily, October 19, 2018; Sim Chi Yin, “Dubai Has Palm Islands, but China Has a Sun, Moon, and Flower,” Bloomberg Businessweek, March 4, 2019; Cao Zinan, “China’s ‘Artificial Sun’ Achieves Major Breakthrough,” China Daily, November 13, 2018; Paul Rincon, “What Does China Want to Do on the Moon’s Far Side?” BBC, January 4, 2019)
Their Abuse Happened over 25 Years Ago, So Why Were Those MKs Still Talking about It on the Today Show?
March 3, 2019 § 1 Comment
A group of five women, all daughters of missionaries, recently went on NBC’s Today to share their stories of sexual abuse in New Tribes Mission boarding schools. One dorm father, whom the women from Fanda Missionary School in Senegal name as their abuser, left the school in 1988. Another dorm father, named by the women from a school in Aritao, the Philippines, was removed from his position in 1993.
It’s been more than 25 years since the latest of their abuse took place, yet these women are still bringing it up. Why?
In their interview, Today‘s Kate Snow asks the five to pick a word to answer the question “What’s this about for you?”
“Truth,” they say. “Justice.”
When Snow commends them for their strength in speaking up, Kelly Emory, who is not only a victim but also a daughter of the accused abuser at her school, says,
I’m strong for the little girl that was never able to say anything, and I’m strong for her, and I’m a strong woman. And I’ll do my best to protect anybody who sees this and wants to speak out. You can come and talk to me. Come and talk to me. I will protect you.
Another of the group, Jaasiel Mashek, in an article at NBC News, says, “If we don’t speak up, it’s going to keep happening. And we’re going to pass on that mentality of covering it up to the next generation. It’s got to stop.”
That’s why they’re still talking. They don’t want it to happen again. They don’t want the rest of us to forget. They don’t want us to think that silence is a remedy.
After the interview aired, Larry M. Brown, CEO of Ethnos360 (formerly New Tribes Mission) responded with an apology and a thank you, writing,
We wish to express our deepest gratitude to these women who came forward and others who have raised awareness of abuse. It is because of their willingness to share their painful stories that . . . preventative measures have been put in place, and we want to publicly thank them.
I want to thank them, too. I know I still need to hear their voices. Their stories are not new to me, but I’d already swept them to the corners of my memory, stripped of faces and details, kept where I can know that they exist without having to acknowledge them often. But I need to remember, really remember, because otherwise it’s too easy for me to give in to my tendencies to ignore hard things, to avoid confrontation, to give the benefit of the doubt when faced with suspicious activities, to hope that things will take care of themselves, and to protect the mission. In this I’m not alone.
And sadly, children in New Tribes Mission haven’t been the only ones to suffer abuse—sexual, physical, emotional, verbal, or spiritual abuse—from missionaries. In 2008, the production company Good Hard Working People produced the film All God’s Children, focusing on accounts of abuse that took place from 1950-1970 at Mamou Alliance Academy, a Christian and Missionary Alliance (C&MA) boarding school in Guinea. The film is available online in 10 parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10.
In the following video from The Churches’ Child Protection Advisory Service (CCPAS—now thirtyone:eight), Wess Stafford, president emeritus of Compassion International, tells of his own experiences as a victim of abuse at Mamou:
Beverly Shellrude Thompson, one of several former Mamou students we hear from in All God’s Children, gives another reason for speaking out, saying that “truth-telling is an integral part of my healing, because as a child I didn’t have a voice.” In 1999, she helped launch MK Safety Net to provide a forum for MKs and TCKs to share their stories, to network, and to learn how to bring their concerns to church/mission leadership. Former Fanda students have contributed to a similar site titled Fanda Eagles.
As part of the process of addressing the problem, New Tribes Mission and C&MA have produced public reports detailing the abuse at Fanda and Mamou and examining how the organizations responded. The investigation of Fanda was conducted by GRACE (Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment):
Other groups, as well, have created their own reports on the abuse of children on the missions field. These include
In calling attention to this information, I want to make it clear that I am not on a vendetta against missionary boarding schools. I know many fine people who serve overseas in such places, selflessly and righteously watching over and educating the children in their care. But while writing this post gives me pause, I am convinced that these accounts still need to be heard.
I understand that not everyone agrees. “Some,” say the writers of the Presbyterian Church report, “strongly believe that the Church would be better served if those who believe they have been abused or are aware of past abuse would keep such information to themselves.”
They then go on to present and dispute three myths:
The current mission of the church will be hurt by revelations of past abuse on mission fields.
The reputations of former missionaries, current staff, or advocates will be damaged by the investigation of allegations against them.
What is in the past is best left alone.
That is why those five women aren’t staying quiet. It’s because the truth needs to be told, and because these myths aren’t true.
(Kate Snow, et. al., “Ungodly Abuse: The Lasting Torment of the New Tribes Missionary Kids,” NBC News, February 7, 2019; Larry M Brown, “NBC Story Follow-Up,” Ethnos360, November 15, 2019; James Evinger, et. al., Final Report of the Independent Abuse Review Panel Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), PCUSA, October 2010)
February 14, 2019 § Leave a comment
I’ll take inspiration where I find it, even if it’s from a book’s back cover . . . quoted at Amazon.com.
The book is Bo M. White’s A Time to Question Everything: Embracing Good News and Bad Days. White is the director of study abroad at Baylor University and has traveled to over 40 countries in his work with NGOs, international non-profits, and international education. The bio at his website says,
Married with two children, Bo has lived near Chicago, St. Louis, Phoenix, and Kansas City, but a little street in Central London remains a significant place because it’s where he explored the power of story with great intensity, studying at the University of London within walking distance of the former residences of Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf, and T. S. Eliot. It’s where he first explored in any serious way the idea of grace attending an RML group at St. Helen’s Church at Bishopsgate. And it’s where culture was explored through a law internship that took him inside London prisons, a University class that took him inside many of London’s incredible theatres, and a chance to see himself and his life outside America for the first time.
The book-cover blurb goes like this:
Bookstores and blogs display stories of people who go from bad days to good days, encouraging people to break out of their slump, pick themselves up, and make something awesome happen. Readers are supposed to get inspired and fix themselves. A Time to Question Everything, instead, offers space to bring personal demons, doubts, and disappointments to the table, daring people to believe that embracing the daily struggle of faith is indeed the good life. Unlike any other world religion, the Christian faith celebrates grace, not self-improvement. The heart of A Time to Question Everything is this sincere question: can grace hold the weight of this messy life?
The part here that struck me is that “embracing the daily struggle of faith is indeed the good life.” That’s the kind of thing I was trying to say nearly two years ago in my post “Surviving? Thriving? How about Striving?” at A Life Overseas. In it I express that when we’re in a situation where thriving seems out of reach, we shouldn’t give up but should see striving as a worthy alternative. Striving—or “struggling”—is a natural part, a positive part, of living, whether that’s at home or abroad.
In a comment following my post, Erika Loftis wrote,
I understand what you mean by striving. But striving also sounds like “trying” and it’s the trying that seems to be the weight dragging us all under water. Trying to keep our neighbors impressed with us, trying to learn language, trying to keep people from thinking we are too rich or too poor. Trying trying trying . . . I wonder if striving, in the holy sense, comes from some semblance of settled and embracing our life and surroundings. . . . If I’m honest, I had a strong reaction, a sense of hope seeping away, that I or anyone around me, has any chance off this well beaten path towards burn out (which is sort of the modern day martyr . . . except for anyone who knows the burnt out/burning out missionary). If striving is the best we will ever achieve, we will stay on this path of strive/trying and ultimately end up at the bottom of Burn Out Canyon. Strive/Trying to still be a Christian. Or not trying anymore. . . .
I certainly don’t mean to add to anyone’s burden by saying “strive more” or “try harder.” Instead, my hope is to say that striving is not less acceptable than thriving—it’s just where we often find ourselves.
“I wonder if striving, in the holy sense . . .” Yes, “holy” striving is what I want to practice, and I guess I’m still figuring out what that looks like. Jesus says his yoke is easy and his burden is light, but I’m not always able to take hold of that truth. The burdens we pick up can sure feel hard and heavy. I hope that we will all keep trying (and ultimately I’m talking about our walk with Christ, not about a particular ministry or situation), while trusting that God’s grace will meet us more than halfway.
I wish that at the time I’d been able to make my point more clearly by crafting a phrase as good as “embracing the daily struggle of faith is indeed the good life.” Embracing . . . that’s even better than simply accepting. Struggle of faith . . . that’s a good way to sum up striving. The good life . . . that’s what we all want, and we need to know that that good life is defined by grace, not by more and more effort.
I haven’t read A Time to Question Everything yet, but I’m not above judging a book by its back cover, so I’ve added it to my Amazon Wishlist—which really should be renamed my Amazon wish-everything-here-was-free-and-I-had-three-extra-hours-a-day-to-read-all-these-books list.
I actually don’t think I’ll ever get to all the titles in the depths of my collection, but I am making some progress. And at least for now, this one’s at the top.
(Bo M. White, “About Me,” Bo M. White; Bo M. White, A Time to Question Everything: Embracing Good News and Bad Days, Wipf and Stock, 2018)
February 2, 2019 § Leave a comment
Have you ever wanted to show, not just tell, people what culture stress is like? Have you ever wanted them to experience it a bit without them having to travel overseas?
Have you ever heard about Barnga?
Barnga is a simulation game created by Sivasailam “Thiagi” Thiagarajan in 1980, while working for USAID in Gbarnga, Liberia. . . .