Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Art:Life

Media_httpfarm5static_afybc

My friend, Diana Quintero, created this poster from a photo of a NY art gallery and a photo of my family -- when I was about 5. I love the mixing of the mediums -- and more importantly, her story of why she choose this photo of mine. When asked to create a mixed medium, Diana immediately thought of my family. This photo of us is actually years before we evolved to become truly a multi-racial, multi-ethic family.

Missing Manual: Securing Unlimited Data Plan for Your BackOrdered iPad

Screen_shot_2010-06-21_at_2
About 9am this morning, Fedex rang my doorbell, delivering my backordered 3G iPad which I ordered online June 5th.  Because I had ordered the iPad before June 7, 2010, I was entitled to purchase an unlimited data plan which AT&T has since eliminated.  

Unfortunately, trying to get AT&T to honor this commitment was difficult and time consuming.  I even got a condensing lecture from the Apple Store Manager at Short Hills Mall (Ron) and accused of lying by Ray, the Short Hills AT&T Wireless Store Manager, who denied AT&T ever made such a promise, despite the NY Times story.  

Finally, though, I was able to get someone at AT&T technical service who found the answer.  And, now, dear reader, I'm giving it to you.

1.  Set up and activate your iPad.  

2.  Sign up for the $25/month option.  When activation is complete, it will provide you with a mobile number.  Write down that number.

3.  Call AT&T iPad activation at 866-640-5125.  NOTE:  Please be patient.  They are very backed up.  I had to listen to musiak for 35 minutes.

4.  When you get an agent, provide them your cellular data number.  They will need to manually change your data plan.

One final note of warning -- in case the agent fails to disclose:  if at any time you disconnect, cancel or are terminate your unlimited data plan, you cannot get it back.  You can become disconnected or terminated if you change your credit card or if your expiration date on credit card expires and fail to notify AT&T before your bill is due.

If No One Ever Marries Me

Today, I attended my first TEDxNYC talk. (TED, for those who don't know, is a private, non-profit foundation that is best known for it's conferences devoted to what it calls "ideas worth spreading."  TED  is short for Technology, Entertainment, Design.)

At this week's meetup, we watched Natalie Merchant's TED talk -- well, really a performance of her latest record -- Leave Your Sleep.  I didn't include her TED talk here but you can watch it at this link because the performance is long and contains other songs.  

Instead I wanted to focus on this song -- If No One Ever Marries Me -- which was taken from a poem written by Laurence Alma-Tadema, the daughter of artist Laurence Alma-Tadema (yes, they had the same name) when she was 18 years old in 1880 or so.  

I am struck by her opening lines and her acknowledgement that marriage isn't in the cards for her.  She is not unhappy with her fate and she has a game plan that leaves her quite content, at a ripe old age of 28, with a cottage near the wood, a pony and a lame and a daughter all her own.  And, I wonder, to what extent the women's movement -- which worldwide had some notable successes and visibility -- influenced her independence.  Or, was she supernaturally mature?

Here are the words to the poem, if you can't make out all of Natalie's lyrics.

 

“If no one ever marries me”

BY LAURENCE ALMA-TADEMA

If no one ever marries me,—
And I don't see why they should,
For nurse says I'm not pretty,
And I'm seldom very good—

If no one ever marries me
I shan't mind very much;
I shall buy a squirrel in a cage,
And a little rabbit-hutch:

I shall have a cottage near a wood,
And a pony all my own,
And a little lamb quite clean and tame,
That I can take to town:

And when I'm getting really old,—
At twenty-eight or nine—
I shall buy a little orphan-girl

And bring her up as mine. 

Is bonding preventing us from joining the 'boys club'?

Media_httpimageshuffi_yghhb

Today's Huffington Post is carrying a story about Obama's efforts to fight the 'boys club' image of his administration.  For context, Obama, an avid sports fan, routinely plays basketball and golf with his male staffers.  The women staffers have not been included in the games -- nor do they want to be.  And, it's not just the games, Obama's visual staffers -- with the exception of Valerie Jarrett -- are all male.  So, concerned about the charges, Obama held a women's only dinner -- way back in November of 2009 -- to discuss these charges with the women.  

No one is truly disclosing -- nor should they -- what was discussed at that dinner but the upshot is there has not been another dinner for women staffers with Obama present; only Ms. Jarrett has presided.  I am sure that this networking for the women is terrific; I enjoy my own women's only professional networks.  But, it is my co-ed networks that have helped me land jobs, speaking and writing opportunities, and consulting assignments.  Even beyond those networks, it is the non-professional bonding that has been the greatest asset -- and something that professional women are often denied access to.  And the excuse often given for denying or withholding access to these professional opportunities is that women are not interested or that "the boys just want to hang out."  But, to me, these excuses sound like the same excuses that were given for excluding black men from white men's gatherings at private whites only clubs.

And, for a President who promised change, it is a huge disappointment. Surely, he can do better.

James Cameron Should Start A National Conversation on Disabilities

Media_httpwwwfilmofil_nfjee

Tonight, when Avatar creator and director James Cameron takes the stage to accept an Oscar -- as I am certain he will at least once -- he has the opportunity to start a much needed public conversation on disabilities. This conversation has the ability to both educate and spur inclusion and innovation. For those who don't know, Avatar is the story of a paraplegic marine (played by Sam Worthington) who is sent on a mission to a Pandora, a lush sci-fi Eden. In an interview with Fresh Air's Terry Gross, Cameron noted, "there has been almost zero" chatter about "the fact you have ... a major action movie where the main character is disabled."

Of course, Cameron is right. There has been very little chatter - beyond the blogs targeting the disabled population. As a society, we have a de facto "don't ask, don't tell" disability policy. As children we are taught that it is impolite to look at, ask questions or acknowledge a person's disability for fear we will hurt their feelings or make them feel uncomfortable. So, we don't talk or look - at all. That silence and avoidance is worse than any hurt feelings or discomfort; it sidelines people with disabilities from social, economic and artistic opportunities.

Admittedly, I have taken advantage of this de facto "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Stricken with childhood polio, I developed strategies to minimize movements, to focus attention on what I had to say and away from my disability. It usually takes people more than one meeting to realize that I have a limp; that stairs are my nemesis; that if you walk too closely on my right side, my leg might hit you as its swings out, compensating for damaged muscles that cannot raise, bend or flex my knee in a straight line.

But, this silence has hindered myself and society from educating a broader audience on the challenges of being disabled. It has hindered us from inclusion. It has hindered us from investing in innovative solutions. And, it has relegated many of us to a different class: willing but unable to find meaningful work, socially overlooked, or physically barred from activities or places. It is why the disabled have lower rates of participation in the workforce, higher levels of unemployment, poverty and depression.

Which brings me back to James Cameron and Avatar. Cameron first had the idea for Avatar almost a decade ago but the technology wasn't available to make the film as he envisioned. He could have shelved the project permanently but he didn't. Instead, he talked about it, he asked questions and he sought answers. And, he invested in the innovations that enabled his film to come to life.

Now imagine if we did that for people with disabilities. If we started the conversation. If we identified the challenges and issues. If we invested in innovative solutions. What could we accomplish? Years ago, Aimee Mullins, a paralympic athlete, model and actress, challenged the design world to marry science and art to create beautiful, functional prosthetic legs. And, they responded. She now has 12 sets of legs. Stunning, functional legs. Legs that may never have been developed if people didn't ask and Aimee didn't talk about her disability or her needs. So, Mr. Cameron, do something about the lack of chatter. Start it. You have the stage. Break our own version of "don't ask, don't tell." Share your story of creating a solution. Encourage the audience and your Hollywood counterparts to be part of the conversation. Talk to us. Look at us. Ask questions. And, then, let's innovate, invest and include.

Mostly

i am enjoying the peace and serenity of

eating the same meal 

drinking white wine

conversations at dinner

laughter in the house

room for all my clothes 

guilt free shopping

a restful room, clutter banished

provocative plays, beautiful ballet

mostly

 

 

Work+Family:Economic Productivity, Not Balance

Juggler

Last Thursday, I had the privilege of chatting online with a dozen plus women (and one working dad) about the challenges of balancing work and family.  The conversation, moderated by Joanne Bamberger aka PunditMom and organized by Fem2pt0, is part of a larger initiative by Fem2pt0 to move the public policy dial by re-framing this important issue. 

It was a great chat -- you can read the archived chat here -- but when it was over, I felt unfulfilled.  Not because of what anyone said -- in fact, there were many great comments and observations raised -- but rather for what was not said, including by me.  So much of the conversation focused on balancing the competing demands of work and family; a conversation that has dogged my 19 years of motherhood.  But, perhaps what working families need is not balance but rather unfettered ability to be productive.  

Let me explain:  balance suggests a state of equilibrium, of two equal parts. But, when we use the word "balance" -- as in work+family balance, it sends shivers down many legislators and corporate executives.  It suggests to them "hand outs" -- in the form of liberal paid time off, job protection during prolonged absences, etc. -- that all serve (in their minds) to reduce productivity and increase costs.  It becomes such a lightening rod, not because the legislators or corporate executives are penny pinching heartless slave drivers (although I'm sure there are some) but rather because productivity is a distinctly American trait: it is hard wired in our DNA (remember the Puritan Work Ethic?). Policies that detract from productivity are anti-American and -- forgive the pun -- counter-productive. 

Yet, removing the barriers that prevent us from being productive is good for business and benefits not only the employer but our government as well.  In fact, evidence suggests that family-friendly policies are anything but unproductive.  

States with family-friendly policies have documented financial benefits to employers such as:

  • A detailed analysis in Massachusetts of the costs of paid sick leave vs reduced employee turnover found a net savings to employers of $.89 per employee 
  • Several California studies found significant employer savings through paid family and sick leave programs
Furthermore, an exhaustive cross-country examination found increased economic competitiveness and lower unemployment in the 14 countries with progressive family-friendly policies.  Sadly, the U.S. was not one of them. 

All of this suggests that family-friendly policies enhance productivity and are good for the bottom line -- for both companies and our country's economic well being.  Perhaps its time we adopt the language of economics and talk about productivity and GDP contributions vs. balance and equity.

 

 

Rejection, Acceptance, Re-invention - By Way Of Adoption

I originally wrote this piece in February, 2009, in response to a New York Times article but I couldn't bring myself to hit the "publish" button.  A new study is being released today looking at the long term effects of transracial adoption prompted me to hit the "publish" button.  

 

Orphans

Photo: Prospective children for adoption sent to potential adoptive parents. I'm on the right. Seoul, Korea.

I'm adopted.  It's something I got used to stating with no real emotion; a fact I would rattle off like "I'm Korean.  I'm one of seven kids."  But, this sunday, reading "Saying Yes to Ryan" in the New York Times Magazine, I was suddenly caught by a flood of memories: of the orphanage, of the chaotic tumble of handicapped children clawing to the dining hall, of my utter confusion in the early days and the fervent desire to return to that orphanage.

While the author mused on the discovery that she and her husband were able to "say yes" to Ryan only because another family  passed him over, adopted children are never given that luxury.  We have the mirror experience.  We don't choose; we are chosen or passed over.  That lack of control over our destiny permeates our psyche -- or at least, it did mine.   I understood, from the moment of my placement, that my "new" family could send me back to Korea;  I could not reject them and return.

But, crying to return to Korea was what I did for the first year of life here in America.  At six, fluent only in Korean, I was incapable of articulating my feelings of despair and disappointment.

As an adolescent grappling with my identity, the well intended euphemisms of altruism (on my biological parents' side) and choice (on my adoptive parents' side) did nothing to lessen the loss I still felt.  The facts were clear:  somewhere before I turned two, someone decided -- maybe with the best intentions -- that they didn't want me anymore; that I was too much to deal with.  They gave me up or they gave up on me.   It didn't matter which; the effect was the same:  I was abandoned.

Like the stages of grief outlined by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, I went through my own stages of anger, denial and ultimately, acceptance.

Although it took maturity -- and motherhood -- for me to reach acceptance.  And, I learned something along the way.  Euphemisms don't help an adoptive child overcome that initial, latent sense of rejection.  All of us  encounter rejection routinely in our lives:  the party we weren't invited to, the friendship that wasn't return, the job that wasn't offered.  Aiding an adopted child to accept that initial rejection can help us move past it.  I'm not saying that adoptive parents should blurt out "someone didn't want you."  But, if your child asks, answer them honestly.  It's what I try to do for my own children -- even to questions that make me squirm.

When I finally accepted the fact that someone gave me up,  I felt liberated.  I realized my life essentially got a re-boot.  And, that re-boot allowed me to re-invent myself combining what was hard-wired in my DNA and acquired through my adoptive family.