A Master Communicator

My first BA is in Public Speaking and Communication.  Obviously, I took many, many public speaking classes.  My teachers taught public speaking and communication.  I never envisioned them as a public speaker or communicator.  Until, I had Dr. Loganbill as my professor.  Dr. Loganbill was a speaker and a communicator in addition to being an exceptional professor.  I learned so much from observing him.
Dr. Loganbill started every class with a story.  But, it was more than a story.  It was a powerful story that set the tone for our class.  Sometimes, the story lasted 5 minutes, and other times, it might only be a sentence… on rare special occasions, it was one powerful word.  His mannerisms and first sentence grabbed our attention.   There were never any side conversations.  No one came to class late.  Everyone was absorbed in his introduction.  Sometimes he spoke very softly; if you were paying attention, you might have lost the first few words.  Other times, he spoke in accents or with various characterizations. 
Dr. Loganbill never sat at his desk during class (unless he was listening to us present).  He walked amongst us.  He looked at us in the eye; his look never threatened us, but instead, when he looked at me, I felt that he really wanted me to learn.  Much of the time, he used gestures during his stories and his lectures.  He was totally involved and never seemed bored.  He was more than a professor, and yet, he wasn’t an actor.  He was, indeed, a communicator.  When Dr. Loganbill communicated with us, he listened.  In addition to listening, he heard every word we said, and he responded. 
Without a doubt, I would model my own communication behaviors after Dr. Loganbill.  In many ways, I hope that I do.  About three years ago, I presented my first early childhood workshop through my own company.  Following the workshop, I sent Dr. Loganbill a note explaining what I was doing with my life and the impact that his teachings had on my presentation.  It was about 20 years since I was in Dr. Loganbill’s class.  I received a lovely letter thanking me for sharing this instance with him.  He was still teaching at the college.  He mentioned a specific speech that I presented based on a Tennessee Williams’ story.  I could not believe that he remembered; I cried.
In four more years, he would celebrate his 40^th year teaching public speaking.  Dr. Loganbill passed away from cancer three years later.  I was so happy that I took the time to thank him.  Every time I begin a workshop with a “special” opening, I know that I have Dr. Loganbill to thank.  His enthusiasm in the classroom as a presenter, communicator, and educator will remain with me often.  I believe he understood his tremendous impact on his students.  I certainly hope so.  He was a master communicator!

Professional Hopes and Goals

 

“If I only knew then what I know now!”  Although I do know who initially put together those words, I will borrow them, because they express many of my feelings.  Without a doubt, as a result of my new-found knowledge on diversity and equity, I would have built very “different” relationships with my student’s families.  While our preschool welcomed children from various cultures, we did not take the time to value the cultures existent in our school.  In addition to making our families feel welcomed, this would have been a wonderful opportunity for a family to share their culture with the entire school.  Even though we did travel Around the World in preschool via a make-believe jet in our hallway, I never encouraged parents to join us. 

I hope to advocate to directors and teachers to take the time to get to know their children’s culture… talk to parents, question parents, talk to children, question children… listen to parents and children… and act upon their thoughts.  Bring their diverse backgrounds into your classroom; this requires more than a few books written in Spanish. 

My goal for the early childhood field is directly related to individual hope.  However, before teachers can fulfill my hope, they need to be educated.  Early childhood professionals must understand the importance of diversity… they must be willing to probe into their biases and stereotypes… stating that they are not biased is a cop-out; I know that first hand.  Just as we are pushing for early childhood educators to return to school and get a degree, a class in diversity and equity is mandatory.  It will enable early childhood professionals to welcome their children and their families in a whole new life; in the long run, children will grow in leaps and bounds, in environments where they feel safe and welcomed.  Parent involvement will result.

Without a doubt, this class has been eye-opening for me.  I have learned things about myself that I never knew existed… not all of which I am proud of.  I am a different person than when I began this class… I am proud of that.  I look at others differently, with respect and kindness.  Thank you to all of my colleagues for sharing this journey with me.  We have shared much through our discussions and blogs; I have shared information that I forgot existed.  Thank you for reading my discussions and for commenting; I take your thoughts and ideas to heart.  I look forward to continuing our travels together, and I value our support in each other.  I must add a special thank you to Erika, Rola, and Nancy for being there always. 

AND… Tammy, thank you for encouraging me to open-up in ways that I never imagined.  In addition, thank you for grading our papers in such a timely manner; it makes a huge difference.  Your suggestions of articles were amazing and really added to my learning.  Most importantly, however, I apologize for being the biggest pain by asking a zillion questions.  Your patience and quick responses encouraged me.  I hope that we keep in touch! 

Welcoming Families from Around the World

For approximately six months, I have been corresponding with a family from Denmark.  Approximately one week ago, it was confirmed that this family will be moving to Florida in approximately one month.  I am thrilled that Abbelone, their four-year-old daughter, will be attending our preschool.  Abbleone speaks Danish, and she learned a bit of Spanish and English in her current preschool.  Her parents speak Danish, Spanish, and English fluently.  I know that I can count on them to help Abbleone learn English and share Danish with her new class.

Here are a few ways that I will assure that Abbleone feels comfortable in her new school environment:
·        Excitedly, I shared information about Abbleone with Miss Alyssa and her prekindergarten class.  We located Denmark on a map, and together, we looked at pictures of Denmark on the computer.  As a class, we decided to send a letter to Abbleone in Denmark, welcoming her to our class.  Each child drew a picture of something special in our classroom. I asked them to share with Abbleone what they drew; I wrote their thoughts on the back of their picture. I believe their pictures will help Abbleone get adjusted to our class.  In addition, we sent Abbleone pictures of the children in our class; her mother sent us a picture of Abbleone on the computer!
·        The students have decided to make welcome pictures for Abbleone, so when she walks in, she will be surprised and welcomed.  I have added her name to a new cubbie and throughout the room.
·        I have invited my staff in to my office to discuss Abbleone’s arrival.  While my staff was a bit resistant, I assured them that all of the children in our school will benefit from Abbleone’s enrollment.  We will work together to teach Abbleone about Florida, and we will learn from Abbleone, and her family, and Denmark.  In addition, I shared some common Danish phrases with my staff; Abbleone’s new teacher suggested sharing these phrases with her students, which was a wonderful idea.
·        Since we looked at pictures of Denmark, and I knew the exact region where Abbleone came from, we added some of the pictures to her new classroom. 
·        I have discussed concerns that Abbleone’s parents may have.  Her mother is concerned that Abbleone may feel uncomfortable during lunch and snack time.  Although she wanted to come in during these times, we felt it was best that we work with Abbleone.  Her mother explained that Abbleone will not start eating until being told to, and she needs to be told specifically where to sit.  We agreed to work with Abbleone to make certain that she is comfortable eating.
·        Abbleone is used to shaking hands with her teacher on arrival and dismissal.  This will work fine in our school, because we have a 3-H rule.  Children can give their teacher a handshake, a high-five, or a hug.  Abbleone will be comfortable with a handshake!
·        I have asked Abbleone’s mother if she could share a few of Abbleone’s toys from Denmark with her new friends.  Her mother said that she would bring some toys, in addition to some books.  I was thrilled!

With the help of Abbleone’s mother, I believe that these preparations will help Abbleone feel comfortable in a new environment.  We have tried hard to bring a part of her Danish heritage into our classroom.  In addition, our research has made us knowledgeable of Denmark, which was an unknown entity to our young students and their teachers.  We are excited for Abbleone’s arrival, and hopefully, she can feel our comfort.

For us, sending Abbleone cards was very special.  The children drew pictures of areas in their classroom, explaining what they do in that area.  We hope that Abbleone’s parents will translate our cards.  The words of her new friends will give her an insight into her new classroom and some of the activities that fill our days.  The children will be very real to Abbleone, since she can see their pictures.

Without a doubt, if Abbleone and her parents feel comfortable with our school, the transition will be easier.  We have already opened up communication between her family and our school family; through our correspondence and preparation, Abbleone is already a part of us!

 

The Personal Side of Bias, Prejudice, and Oppression

 When I was in college, being gay was not something that was discussed.  It was hidden.  It was almost like gay men had a disease of sorts.  I think that until I came face to face with the concept of being gay, I was close minded too; I did not understand this sexual choice.  I still don’t, but it doesn’t matter; I respect it.

In college, I became best friends with a singer, musician.  He lived in Las Vegas, and I visited on weekends.  I stayed at his house, played with his dogs, and ate his delicious cooking; I went to his shows and enjoyed his music.  We went to movies, shows, and just hung out.  I had no idea what-so-ever that he was gay.  When he finally told me, I had a decision to make.  In addition to being shocked, I questioned my association with a “gay” individual.  We talked opening about our feelings; we were both honest.  Either I accept him for who he is, or I lose one of the best friends ever.   His being gay did not change who he was; how could I be so biased?  Obviously, I accepted him, and we are still friends to this day.

However, not all of friends were so accepting.  One weekend, my friend and his partner were staying at my house.  We were going to Disneyland on Saturday with a group of my friends.  I remember it well, because I was celebrating my 21^st birthday.  There were quite a few of my college buddies, none of whom knew that my friend was gay.  It just did not matter. 

 

We met my friends at the entrance to the park.  I introduced all of my friends, and everything was wonderful.  I was so happy to be surrounded by so many awesome friends.  Then, out of the blue, my friend, Katie, told me that she figured out that my Vegas friend was gay, and she wanted to know what I was going to do about it.  I had no clue what I was to do about it.  I flipped out a bit, explaining that my “Vegas friend” had a name.  She acted as if these individuals were off limit, and without a doubt, she was uncomfortable.  I could not believe it, and to this day, I still am in disbelief that this happened.  Katie ended up leaving the park without any explanation to anyone; we had no idea (and still don’t) how she got home.  I never spoke to her again; I saw her around campus, but that was that.  There were no harsh words; she just did not want to be my friend (or hang out with my crowd) if I had a gay friend (or if they accepted my friend).

 

Remembering this gives me chills and brings tears to my eyes.  She missed out, though, not me.  I am just thankful I was able to accept my friend’s sexuality and embrace it.  Now, many, many, many, many years later, I still adore this individual; he is like a big brother to me… he is my son’s godfather… and I just wish we lived closer.  He’s gay, and I’m not; who cares? 

 

 

 

 

We met my friends at the entrance to the park.  I introduced all of my friends, and everything was wonderful.  I was so happy to be surrounded by so many awesome friends.  Then, out of the blue, my friend, Katie, told me that she figured out that my Vegas friend was gay, and she wanted to know what I was going to do about it.  I had no clue what I was to do about it.  I flipped out a bit, explaining that my “Vegas friend” had a name.  She acted as if these individuals were off limit, and without a doubt, she was uncomfortable.  I could not believe it, and to this day, I still am in disbelief that this happened.  Katie ended up leaving the park without any explanation to anyone; we had no idea (and still don’t) how she got home.  I never spoke to her again; I saw her around campus, but that was that.  There were no harsh words; she just did not want to be my friend (or hang out with my crowd) if I had a gay friend (or if they accepted my friend).

Remembering this gives me chills and brings tears to my eyes.  She missed out, though, not me.  I am just thankful I was able to accept my friend’s sexuality and embrace it.  Now, many, many, many, many years later, I still adore this individual; he is like a big brother to me… he is my son’s godfather… and I just wish we lived closer.  He’s gay, and I’m not; who cares? 

Practicing Awareness of Microaggressions

Prior to this week, I never heard of the term microaggression, and as a matter of fact, my spell check is probably not aware of the term either.  Now, the term is infested in my brain, and I am obsessed with looking for microaggressions in my life.

My example might be a bit far out, and yet, I like it.  Whenever I go to a restaurant and order a Coke or Pepsi, I’m always asked, “Would you like regular or diet?”  I admit that at times this simple questioned upset me.  Was the waiter insinuating that I am fat?  Did the waiter just assume because I’m not super skinny that I would want diet soda?  After all, if I wanted a diet Pepsi, I would have asked for it.  But, instead, I asked for a Pepsi, without the word diet anywhere in the equation.

As I thought about microaggressions, this incident began to drive me crazy.  So, I had to do it!  My husband and I went into Chile’s, and he ordered a Pepsi (considering that he only drinks unsweetened ice tea, I was most appreciative).  The waiter never questioned him.  Then, I told the waiter that I changed my mind, and I would have a Pepsi, too.  And, of course, the waiter asked me if I wanted a regular or diet.  I questioned his question.  His reply surprised me, although this was better than my perceptions of being fat.  He stated, “girls always want diet sodas.”  So, because I am a female, it is assumed that I wanted a diet drink.

I find myself “looking” for microaggressions… listening for them.  I am overwhelmed by the reality of their mere existence.  The world is filled with stereotypes, discrimination, and prejudices that I was totally unaware of.  I just feel the need to look at each person as an individual, realizing that they bring with them their own special social identities.  These social identities make them unique and special… perhaps it’s time to celebrate these differences.

 

Perspectives on Diversity and Culture

I chose to speak with Suzanne, a colleague and friend from FLAEYC, a VPK teacher who is African American, Miss Teresa, and Stan, my husband.  I chose these three individuals for their diversity, in addition to the fact that I expected their answers to be detailed (I was, obviously, wrong!).  Each of them seemed to ponder when questioned, reflecting of the difficultly of defining each term.  Miss Teresa and Stan both defined culture in regards to surface culture, mentioning religion, and nationality.  On the other hand, Suzanne looked a bit deeper, mentioning that culture was everything that defines a person, country, or group, including surrounding environments, philosophy, and objects. 
        Each of the individuals questioned defined diversity in regards to differences.  Suzanne mentioned that it was a classification by attributes.  Miss Teresa never really defined the term, but instead, she told me that her school was very diverse.  When I asked her way, she said that the children in her classroom come from many diverse families.  To Stan, diversity is what makes us different.

What aspects of culture and diversity that I have studied in this course are included in the answers I received ---- and what are some examples.  From the video this week, I remember that J. Gonzales-Mena defined diversity as a benefit.  After our studies thus far, I am slowly beginning to see true value in Gonzales-Mena’s definition.  I have written it in my own journal; it makes sense.  However, I do not know if either Miss Teresa or Stan looks at diversity as a benefit.  Perhaps for Suzanne, the differences in attributes are benefits, but I did not ask any additional questions; obviously, I cannot speak for her.  I was hoping that one of these individuals would have mentioned the value of diversity and how important it is to respect, and value, diversity.

What aspects have been omitted ---- and what are some examples of such omission?  Due to the impact of this course, when thinking about culture or diversity, I think about social identities.  The listing of social identities goes way beyond race and religion.  All three individuals seemed to miss the impact of many of these identities.  Without a doubt, I will be discussing social identities around the dinner table! 

In what ways has thinking about other people’s definitions of culture and diversity influenced my own thinking about these topics?  Asking these specific questions reconfirmed what I already knew.  Many individuals have limited definitions of culture and diversity.  It is imperative that we spread the word. 

CULTURE
Suzanne: it’s hard to define.  Culture is everything that defines a person, country, group.  It would include the surrounding environment, philosophy, actions, objects.
Stan: It’s our race and religion. 
Miss Teresa: Our religion and what color we are.

DIVERSITY

Suzanne: any type of difference in people, geography, objects.  A classification of them by attributes.

Stan: what makes us different from every one.
Miss Teresa: my classroom is about as diverse as it gets. 

My Family Culture

            The first item that I would take with me is a picture that I have of my mom, my dad, and me.  I was about 3 ½ years old, and I was sitting with them on the front porch step of our home in Philadelphia.  The picture is in my bedroom drawer, tucked away in a manila envelope.  It is in black and white; the edges are frayed, but it brings back memories.  I remember sitting on the step often talking with neighbors or eating ice cream from the corner store.  I remember running down the steps to greet my dad after work or running up the steps to greet my mom after school.  The picture brings back many memories.

            I lost my mom to a stroke about a year and a half ago.  She lived with me for almost 22 years.  She was my rock, my best friend, my mom, and the best anmom (grandmom) ever; this assignment made me wonder if, indeed, she was aware of how much she meant to us.  My dad passed away when I was 16 years old.  I remember dancing with him at my Sweet 16 party.  I remember surprising my parents for their 24^th wedding anniversary, about 6 months before he died of cancer.  I remember my dad building a desk for my sister and I in our basement.  I remember his hugs.  I do not remember his face; I wish my memories were more vivid.

            The second item was a bit more difficult.  Initially, I wanted to take my engagement/wedding ring, but I am going under the assumption that I am wearing them.  So, instead, I would take a pile of cards that Stan (my husband) sent me before our marriage (or at the very beginning of our marriage).  Currently, these cards are secured in my drawer with a rubber-band.  Each card held great meaning to me (they still do), but Stan went a step further.  On each card, he wrote one or two thoughts of his feelings for me or the life that we would share.  While this may sound corny, his words written over 28 years ago still hold just as much value for me today (maybe even more).

            Finally, for my third item, I would take the box of pictures under my bed of Adam growing up.  Some pictures are in albums and some of just floating in the box, but the box would count as 1 item.  Adam is an only child, and I would give my life for him in a minute; he gave my life a meaning that I never knew existed.  Stan and I tried to do everything possible to assure that Adam had the “perfect” childhood.  Although there are things we would do differently, we shared some amazing times together… many of which are captured in the pictures that are in the box.  So, even though I need to leave my country, I still have memories of the life we had together; they may hold a bitter sweet memory, but at least, the pictures would serve as visual memories.

              NOW… if I can only bring one of the three items, I would, without a doubt, bring the picture of my mom, dad, and me.  This was a no-brainer.  After all, Stan and Adam would, thankfully, be with me. Perhaps, I could put this picture and the cards in the box with Adam’s pictures, and then, I would be bringing only one item… the box, which would be filled to capacity.

            This blog made me think, really think.  For me, my past family culture does not seem as important as my current family culture.  In a way, this caused a bit of sadness, but for me, it is reality.  As I was growing up, I was privy to many family mishaps, and to this day, I still wonder how family could literally take what was not theirs, while hurting a whole lot of people in the process.  At one time, I thought that I wanted to live in a fairytale land where everyone was nice, but now, after thinking about this (and thinking some more), I realize that I just wanted my family to have what was theirs.  I just never imagined that family members could lie or cheat one another.  It hurts to think that these are people who I spent so much time with growing up and loved. 

            The items that I chose represent my own little family of my hubby and son.  We might be small, but we share a whole lot of love and respect.  I would not hurt them for the world; as a matter of fact, I would give up everything I have for them.  Each item that I choose represents them, but being able to leave my home with them would make everything a whole lot easier.