Thank You, Nana

I don’t really get homesick anymore.  To be sure, I miss the people I love, Chipotle burrito bowls, and tap water that you can drink.  However, now I have a home here.  I have a house I take care of, a job I love, and friends I see on the weekends.   I feel “normal” here.  I am sure my normal is quite different from yours, but nonetheless I have a normal.

Still, some days every bone in my body yearns towards Massachusetts.  Today is one of those days, as my family is on the cusp of loosing our matriarch, my Nana Anna.  I want to be at her house on Felch Road celebrating the 4^th of July as we did for so long.  Or at her summer home in Plymouth where for many years of my childhood we faithfully made the pilgrimage to Plymouth Rock, despite the fact that it is probably the lamest national monument of all time, in any country.

Being tossed into a world – Guatemala – so different from my own has given me time to reflect on so many cultural norms that I took for granted in the United States.  Most frequently, I find myself thinking about family.  Not a day goes by without somebody asking me about my marital status.  A few times, they have skipped over that and just asked, “Where are your children?”  because it is unfathomable that a 23-year-old woman wouldn’t have any.

Part of the role of a Peace Corps Volunteer is to explain American culture to Guatemalans.  So I (nearly always futilely) explain that I want to have a career and travel and have a house before I have children.  I have spent a long time thinking about why I want these things and I think I know the answer: my mom.  The ten years she took between college graduation and childbearing have made me who I am.  She traveled to Mexico, took time to fall in love, and worked hard at becoming a professional. 

I am who I am because she did that.  Growing-up I had a wonderful example of a worldly, intelligent, hard-working mother.  She didn’t have to tell me to be those things because she was those things and I wanted (want) to be just like her.   There are lots of equally valid routes to becoming a great mom, but I plan on taking the one my mother did.   The time she took to find and become herself is the greatest gift she has given me and because of her example, I am sure that I want to give the same gift to my children.

However, my mom isn’t alone.  In fact, she is one of five children and each is spunky and independent in their own way.  Each of her siblings has walked a unique and admirable path.  How did they get this way?  Well it seems to me that the answer to that question is their mom, my Nana Anna.

You see, Nana herself was a driven and independent woman.  She was widowed at a young age and was forced to raise five children at a time when few women worked outside the house.  Life wasn’t perfect for her, but she was able to provide for her family with her work at the Town Hall, a place where she earned a lot of respect.  She was involved in town politics and, in her younger years, liked to sharpen her brain by knowing baseball statistics.  She was never too old to learn and she never failed to surprise.  Just two months ago, despite her frailness, she danced the night away at my cousin’s wedding with moves that only a grandmother could pull-off.

She was also a woman before her time in her understanding the importance of adventure.  When my dad announced he had taken a new job in Canada, the rest of the family (including myself) was devastated that the job was taking him away from MA, the only home we had ever known.  She saw what an opportunity this was for my dad and the entire family, so she congratulated him genuinely as the rest of us cried.

I remember calling her to tell her that I was coming down to Guatemala.  Her response was “I didn’t realize you were such a wild child.  All of my grandchildren are.  What did your mothers do to you?”

Our mothers did for us what she did for them – provided an example of a hard-working, intelligent woman unfettered by what the rest of the world expected from them. 

As my nana, Anna Dunn, prepares to leave us, the next generation of Dunn (NOT dumb) woman is coming into their own at school, at work, and even in motherhood.  I am proud to be a part of this sisterhood of women carving their own path and I am so thankful to Nana for starting it all.  Many of us were not fortunate enough to inherit her height, but, in each of my cousins, I can see a little bit of her strength.

Thank you, Nana.

The Unsung Heros

Recently, I listened to a beautiful and inspiring TED Talk by Karima Bennoune, titled "The Side of Terrorism That Doesn't Make Headlines".  (You can listen to it here).  The talk discusses the importance and heroics of the everyday acts of defiance that Muslims make against radical Islam.  She talks about the bravery of professors who continue to teach and students who continue to learn despite threats on their life.  She wisely notes that it is these people who need our support and our attention and who will eventually be responsible for the downfall of Islamic radicalism.  I will not pretend to understand the politics of the Middle East or make policy recommendations, but I will say that my experience in Guatemala has lead me to believe that education is always the answer and that change initiated by a people themselves is the only type of sustainable change that exists.

I listen to a lot of TED Talks and podcasts in a desperate attempt to maintain some connection to what is happening outside of my small village.   However, this one really stuck with me and I couldn't figure out quite why; all day I couldn't shake the feeling that her talk was the most relevant and important thing I had heard in a while.  Then, finally, it dawned on me.  The acts of heroism she mentions aren't so different than many of the acts of frequent, but certainly not ordinary, bravery that I see here in Guatemala.

No, there is no radical Islam in Guatemala, but there are plenty of other radical and oppressive notions - generally grouped under the title of "machismo".  Machismo is defined simply as, "strong or aggressive masculine pride", but I think is better described as "radical male privilege".  Machismo is part of life every day for every woman in Guatemala, including myself, and it has very real manifestations, ranging from: co-workers ignoring recommendations from women, to men hanging out their car to slap your ass as they drive by, to quite whispers of the word "puta" as you enter a room, and all the way to femicide.

In a culture that judges women by their ability to marry and have children, it would serve women well to acquiesce to the premise that women are created solely to serve men.  Frequently, due to either lack of empowerment or even awareness that there is another way to be treated, women do accept their role as second-rate members of society.  However, I have also seen amazing women break this mold and I have seen them be supported by inspiring men.

There are many college-educated women I have met who escaped homes of alcohol abuse and family violence.  The husbands of these women often endure jabs from friends and family who believe a woman's place is in the home  There are people all over the country who have lost the majority of their family in the genocide, but still find a way to continue and remain committed to their indigenous heritage.  There are young girls who sit at the front of the class and raise their hand with the right answer even when they know the result will be snickers from the boys in the back row.  There are women who can not read or write, but who manage the purse strings for their family.

I am still here today, a year and a half into my service, because I am proud to be a part of this union of women and men who wake-up everyday with a commitment to lead their best lives in the hope that future Guatemalans will have it a little bit easier.  It's overwhelming to think about the the systematic corruption, epidemic malnutrition, or rampant inequality that plagues Guatemala.  That existed long before I got here and will continue to exist long after I leave.  However, if enough of us commit to these everyday acts of defiance that Bennoune mentions, maybe it will be enough to turn the tides in Guatemala.

I recently spoke to a Christian missionary about the many different types of development work and development workers.  What we concluded during our conversation was that people have to stop telling other people how to act and just show them.  Guatemalan women have showed me time and time again the importance of just going on with your day after a man yells everything he can think of in order to make you feel worthless.  That in itself is an act of courage.

Big policy changes, announcements, and initiatives are important but I hope that I never forget that everyday so many unsung heros contribute silent defiance against oppressive ideologies and that makes a real difference.