Friday, July 26, 2019

Who Gave You Permission?

       In January, I went to Puerto Rico on my first ever solo trip. The main purpose of the trip was to go see the national treasure, Lin-Manuel Miranda, perform in Hamilton but I had planned for a whole week to explore Puerto Rico. I had rented a car for a few days, which when you're staying in a hostel automatically increases your popularity. The day before the older Bulgarian woman who I was sharing a room with asked if she could come along with me for the day. We'll call her Ana. I told her she could, but that I wanted to leave the next morning at 10. This seemed like a reasonable hour to compromise on, especially since I would be up way before then. At 9:30, she was up and I reminded her that I wanted to leave by 10. 

     "I'll try," she responded. 

     I wanted to quote Yoda back to her. Do or do not. There is no try.
     At this point, the Finnish woman, we'll call her Julia, who was also sharing a room with us asked if she could also come too. Why not? At the very least it might be nice to have someone help give directions. 

     At 10, I went into our room to ask Ana if she was ready to leave. She was not. She was putting on a nail treatment on her feet and said it would need time to dry. She said I could leave without her but I felt bad doing that since we were sharing a room. At 10:20, everyone was ready and we finally hit the road. I was a little irritated because I had been up since about 5:30. If I hadn't had to wait for her, I would have been on the road hours ago. 

     The first stop was a cave that I had picked out to go to. When we were buying tickets, Ana looked like she did not want to do this but she didn't say anything. My original plan for the day was to go to the cave, then to the nearby largest radio telescope. However, after the cave, it was almost lunchtime. I didn't bother asking if they wanted to go see the telescope, they were more interested in getting lunch and going to the beach. 
Cueva Ventana, or Windo Cave
         We got to the beach and found some street stands to get lunch. I translated the mostly-meat options to Julia. She gave me a strange look. 

        "Are you vegetarian?" I asked. 

       She nodded her head. We drove around to several different restaurants and looked at the menus. It took three tries to find one that she wanted to eat at. After we found something to eat, we ended our day with sunset on the beach. 
Just one of the many beautiful beaches in Puerto Rico
         At the end of the day, it wasn't a bad day. However, it occurred to me that I would have done things differently if it had just been me. I had come to Puerto Rico be by myself and with just a couple of days left on the trip, I hadn't spent much time solo. When I was first settling in, it was nice to have people in the hostel give suggestions and offer to go do things with me. It was also sometimes nice to have someone around to help with directions. Although Ana's directions of "drive towards the ocean" weren't overly helpful when you're on an island. As the week had gone on though, I found myself craving time by myself but felt guilty for declining social invitations. I had wanted to go on a solo trip so I could do what I wanted and I wouldn't have to accommodate other people. On my trip, I still found myself accommodating other people. The worst part of it was I wasn't working to accommodate friends or family members, these people were strangers I would never see again.  

       The next morning I was determined to get some solo time on my solo vacation and to not spend another day accommodating other people. I left as soon as I got up. I got in the car and just started driving. There was something that I noticed when I was by myself: I stopped asking for permission. I had a destination in mind but I made several side trips and stops along the way. The next day I also spent by myself. I  took my time exploring the forts of San Juan, stopping frequently to take pictures. If I saw a store I wanted to go in, I went in it. I didn't need to ask somebody if it was okay or let someone know. It was liberating. My last full day in Puerto Rico I went to see Hamilton by myself. The last three days of my vacation were my favorite because I could do exactly what I wanted to do because I didn't have to think of anyone besides myself. I gave myself permission to do what I wanted to do.


The view of Old San Juan from one of the forts. I stopped to take a lot of pictures when I was by myself. 
      Admittedly, I'm guilty of being overly-accommodating to other people. I'm also guilty of not giving myself permission to put my wants and needs first. I think this comes from a couple of different places. As a woman, it is engrained that we should do things to make others comfortable. This includes things from being a good hostess to moving off the sidewalk if someone is walking towards you. In the classroom, the needs of my students are frequently prioritized over my own. I've given up personal time hunting down lost lunchboxes, talking to a parent or colleague with concerns about a student, or setting up for science labs. As a friend, I have been the person that people come to talk to about their issues. I am grateful that people feel like they can come to talk to me, but it sometimes comes at the cost of frequently putting the needs of others before my own. Making people comfortable, being considerate of students, and listening to friends aren't bad actions. However, they can be harmful when they are constantly put in front of your own mental, emotional, or physical health. I have often felt emotionally exhausted and burnt out from taking care of others over myself. 

     I took this trip in January, a time for new beginnings. I'm not one for resolutions, but made the point that in the new year I could stand to be a little bit more selfish. I could give myself permission to do more to put myself first, from voicing and doing what I wanted to do to be okay with doing things by myself. I had a place I wanted to start too.


Jonathan van Ness serving up some realness on Queer Eye. 
    The summer before I left for El Salvador, I met with my friend Monica at a local bakery. We met there almost weekly to eat, talk about books and publishing, and write. It came up in the conversation about how our friend Jon was getting his MFA in writing for children and young adults. 

     "You should apply," Monica urged. 

     Our meal ended again with the action steps we were going to take.

     "So, you're going to apply for Hamline," Monica said again. (Writers are the most supportive group of people you will ever meet.) The seed was planted. 

     My initial reaction to her telling me to apply was I can't do that. In some ways, it seemed frivolous.  Many writers debate the usefulness of an MFA. You don't need an MFA to be a writer. Currently, I am debt-free and it would possibly mean going in debt to pursue the degree. But for me, the program was not only about improving my writing. It's about giving myself permission to put writing first. Writing is something that I have always wanted to do, so it was also giving me permission to put myself first. The program is a low-residency, which means the majority is done remotely. I go to campus for a week-long residency in July and January. While I wouldn't necessarily have needed to move back to the U.S., I felt it was necessary to put writing first. When I lived in Minneapolis previously, I found myself surrounded by such a strong writing community. 

     So I did it. I applied and got in and already finished my first residency. Who gave me permission to make writing a priority in my life? I guess I did. 

Monday, July 1, 2019

A Statistical Abstract of El Salvador

This is inspired and modeled after "Statistical Abstract for my Home of Spokane, Washington."  by Jess Walter. 

A Statistical Abstract of El Salvador


1. I moved back to Minneapolis in mid-June after living for two years in El Salvador. I called my grandma with my new U.S. phone. “I’m glad you’re back in the United States. It sounds like Central America is maybe not the best place to be right now. One hears things,” she said.

2. She’s not the only one who hears things. When I would go home for winter and summer break people were always curious. I saw on the news . . . Is it safe? Are the gangs really that bad?

3. One hears things from U.S. news.

4. In 2018, San Salvador was ranked the seventeenth most dangerous city in the world due to high homicide rates.

5. It’s in good company. St. Louis was ranked thirteenth. Baltimore was ranked twenty-first.

6. I moved to El Salvador in July of 2017. The school grounds are huge and are fenced in with vigilantes, or guards, at all of the entrances. I lived in the complejo, or compound, that housed all the international staff. There was a vigilante at the street entrance. The other entrance was inside the school and required a fingerprint to unlock the door.

8. During orientation, we asked about safety. We were told that the gangs probably wouldn't bother us. We were told that the worst that would happen to us was that we would get robbed. They don't really bother foreigners. 

9. They didn't say what's implied. (You're white.)

12. If I came into the complejo with a friend or an Uber, I needed to roll down the window and stick my head out so the vigilante saw me and let the car through the gate. The vigilantes rotated through all of the different entrances of the school every three months. Some might have known who I was but when I stuck my head out the window they could see that I was obviously a foreigner.

13. When friends came over, the vigilante checked and held onto their ID. We are not allowed to have local guests in the complejo between the hours of 12 AM to 5 AM for “safety reasons.”

10. I experienced a lot of white privilege in El Salvador.

11. (And everywhere.)

14. My second year in El Salvador a security person from the U.S. Embassy came to talk to us about living safely in El Salvador. He said that while homicides were down, disappearances were up. He told us about the “Color Code of Mental Awareness.” This mental process was developed by the U.S. military and is used by defense instructors to measure preparedness for action.

15. There are five conditions, which are represented by colors.  White means you are unaware of your surroundings and unprepared for potential threats. Yellow means you are relaxed, but alert. It goes all the way down to black, which is you are in a blind state of panic and are unable to react. He said you never want to be in a situation where you get to black and can't respond to a threat. 

16. He told us to think about the worst thing we could imagine happening to us and plan our reaction. It reminded me of an assignment I was assigned in high school English class. We were reading "Paradise Lost." We had to design our own paradise, then plan what our fall would be from our own paradise. I couldn’t imagine what the worst thing happening to me would be so I couldn’t plan a reaction to it.

17. My color was white in the complejo where I rarely wore shoes or locked our door. When someone messaged our complejo chat to see if someone could borrow X. The response was usually, “we do, you can walk in our house and get it.”

18. Leah and I were yellow when we walked for twenty minutes from our house to Mister Donut and Dollar City our first year. "You went where?" people asked us. "People get shot on that street all the time." We shrugged, it seemed okay when we went. We also went on a Sunday morning when most people were at church. 

20. I was yellow when we walked around parks and saw men with machetes.

21. I’m fairly certain that on any given day in El Salvador, there are more adult men per capita with machetes than in any other place in the world. While they can be used as a weapon or for protection, the gardeners at our school use them to weed whack or to carve the topiary with the school letters.

19. I was yellow when I walked weekly to the grocery store by myself. On my way to Super Selectos I passed several vigilantes standing outside of stores and restaurants with shotguns. They smiled and said “buenas días” to me as I passed.

21. A survey conducted in 2017 said that 42% of people in the United States live in a household with a gun. About 40,000 people died from gun-related in the U.S. in 2017.

23. At every elementary school I taught at in the U.S, we practiced several lock-down drills throughout the school year.

23. The school I taught at was a private school that served mostly very wealthy families of El Salvador. The students had nannies and drivers and tutors. They lived in gated colonias and had lake houses and beach houses.

24. This past year we had our first lockdown drill at the school. “We are practicing this in case there is someone in the school who wants to hurt people,” I told my students. They had a lot of questions. What if the robber comes in through the window? How do we know if the robber is gone? What happens if the robber takes all the stuff from school?

25. The security person from the embassy asked us to conjure the worst scenario in our heads. My students had to think of the worst villain in their heads. The worst person they could conjure was a robber.

22. There have been fourteen school shootings in the United States so far in 2019 with deaths or injuries.

26. There’s a lot of privilege that comes with being wealthy in El Salvador.

27. (and everywhere.)

28. There were maybe two times when I was orange. In that state, a potential threat is identified and you mentally prepare an action. I lived in whites and yellows and so did my students. Living with frequent safety threats was never my reality in El Salvador but it is for many.

29. I have local friends who have been robbed multiple times. My friend got robbed three times taking the bus. My friends always spoke about getting robbed with such nonchalance.

31. One of my friends helped me figure out how to get a VISA to go to Brazil. To get a VISA I needed to pay about $200, go to a bank and get a check, provide proof of employment including pay stubs, and set up an appointment with the Brazilian Embassy with all my documentation. “I don’t know if I want to do this,” I told my friend. “It seems like a lot of work.”

33. He responded by saying that’s what he has to do to go to most places, including Mexico.

33. To get a tourist VISA to visit the U.S, the first step is filling out an application. It costs $160. You need to get a check from the bank for this. You need to schedule an appointment with the U.S. Embassy for an interview. At the interview, you need to have current proof of income, tax payments, property or business ownership, or assets. You need a travel itinerary and/or other explanation about your planned trip with the assurance that you will not overstay your VISA. You also need a letter from your employer detailing your position, salary, how long you have been employed, any authorized vacation, and the business purpose, if any, of your U.S. trip and Criminal/court records pertaining to any arrest or conviction anywhere, even if you completed your sentence or were later pardoned. This process can take several months.

34. In 2015, 46% of people from El Salvador were denied a tourist VISA to the U.S.


32. Before I went they changed the policy, so U.S. citizens just needed to submit an application and $40.

33. There is a lot of privilege that comes with being a U.S. citizen in Central and South America.

34. (and everywhere).

35. I complained about work to the same friend who helped me with my VISA to Brazil. His response was, “but you can leave.”

36. A different friend was supposed to get his VISA in October of this past year. His girlfriend moved back to the United States because it seemed like it was a sure thing. October passed, and his lawyer continued to tell him that it would be longer. His family got a VISA and moved to the United States in February but he was processed separately because he was an adult. They said it could be years until he got his VISA.

37. He was going to school and had to stop school because he could not afford both tuition and a plane ticket if his VISA came in. He also needed to be ready to leave quickly after being granted his VISA.

38. While some people are able to wait to get a VISA to go to the United States, others can’t.

39. While my friend Kristen was visiting, we went to a more rural part of El Salvador. Our tour guide told us the story of two boys who were friends. One of the boys joined a gang. He asked his friend to join. His friend said no. The boy asked his friend to join again. His friend responded no. Our guide told us that the gang does not ask people to join four times. The third time a gang asks someone to join you join or you run away or you are killed.

40. Red means that you must assume you will need to take action to neutralize any and all threats. I couldn’t imagine the worst thing that could happen to me and what my response would be. Many people who live in reds in El Salvador and Central America can.

41. So when my grandma or someone asks if I felt safe living in El Salvador I tell them yes. But I am white and financially stable and a U.S. citizen and there is a lot of privilege that comes with those things in El Salvador.

42. (and everywhere.)

43. One hears things from U.S. news.

44. One day another teacher came up to Leah and me in the mailroom. “What’s going on in your country?” She asked us concerned. We didn't ask her to specify what it was. It could have been any number of things going on in our country. “I’m praying for your country,” she told us.

45. One hears things from El Salvador news too.