Which is harder: To realize one is out of one’s element or in one’s element? This is not a trick question, but it’s not easy to answer.
I think one can be out of one’s element and function perfectly well. Coping is what we as human beings strive to do. Survival, right? The problem is that coping can come to seem normal, since there may be nothing in particular to point to that is making one feel that things don’t quite fit. And yet, things don’t quite fit.
“I acknowledge the four elements. Water in the North; incense to recognize the air in the East; flowers for the earth in the South; a candle for light from the West. It helps me keep perspective.” Laura Esquivel
Mind you: It’s not all sunshine in one’s element, either. Still, it feels different. Even bad days or in frustrating moments, the element feels different. Moving through the trouble (whether a little or big one) feels different. The element is working in one’s favor, so to speak.
Can a person claim a place, or does place always trump the person?
When one lives in the middle a very large country, in a fairly large city, it’s easy to exist in a relatively passive and insulated sort of way. Privacy is pretty much guaranteed; people don’t just drop by unannounced. Running errands is not likely to put one in contact with anyone one knows. Co-workers may become friends, but they just as easily may not.
This kind of existence means you can opt into community life or not. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found this less appealing than I once did. The effort required for a single professional woman with no local ties to make friends is daunting. Endeavors–at least for me–often ended in a sort of disappointing neutrality. The outing or activity was fine, the people were perfectly fine, but no real connection was made.
“It’s like the people who believe they’ll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn’t work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.” ― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
I have no idea how this will turn out, but I recently made the decision to move back to Belize, finding the pull of my native land suddenly extremely strong.Over the years, I have made a point to visit at least once a year–sometimes I’ve managed more than once a year. Although I didn’t grow up in Belize in terms of actual years, Belize is the place where many of my formative experiences took place. It’s where I have a large circle of extended family, friends and acquaintances. For better or worse, people know a great deal about me–warts and all. There is both comfort and trepidation in this!
Having moved around my entire life, Belize City is the closest thing I have to a hometown. So here I am: Day Four. Here we go….
Many of us fans may believe we really understood Prince, really “got” him. My own sense is that he probably experienced great happiness, tremendous joy, and deep dark times. He certainly lived; no doubt there were few things he wanted to try that he didn’t try.
The first concert I ever went to was Prince: The LoveSexy Tour. My boyfriend and I were among the fans at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit on Halloween in 1988.
Prince playing the keyboard rising from the stage atop a heart-shaped column
There was a bed on the stage
There was a basketball hoop on the stage
There was a full-scale replica of his Ford Thunderbird on the stage
Memory is not always reliable, but I have a strong recollection of my first Prince moment: Hearing “Controversy,” on Radio Belize. I must have been around 12 years old.
“I just can’t believe All the things people say, controversy Am I black or white? Am I straight or gay? Controversy
Do I believe in God? Do I believe in me? Controversy, controversy Controversy.”
[Release date: October 14, 1981]
Any guesses which line jumped out at me? I was impressed by the music, and blown away by the reference to being biracial; I could not recall ever hearing such a thing in music.
Learning of Prince’s death felt like a light going out. One moment he was here: bright and eternal. The next, gone. It was good to live in a world in which Prince also lived. Now I console myself with my concert memories, my Prince music collection (good thing I kept his CDs), and the thought that we shared a planet for a time.
Impressions: Ybor City coming slowly to life on a Sunday afternoon. There are shiny beads all over the place, which –along with the tattoo parlors, bars and tourists mingling with locals– give the area a pleasantly seedy Bourbon Street vibe.
Live music in the bar & grill where I’m eating: Not a bad rendition of “Hotel California.” There is, as Belizeans might say, a rain breeze. Like it might pour or might not.
Low humidity and anything can happen. There is no comparable sensation in the Midwest.
Amtrak train cruises by a street away, startling a clan of chickens–yes, chickens.
Belize is a democracy. Elections happen with regularity and voters have strong feelings about both leading major political parties.
A friend of mine recently observed Belizean politics in action and found himself dismayed by one particular aspect: paying for votes.
The practice, by which a person connected to a candidate offers money to secure a vote, is tolerated. In some cases, a would-be voter asks for the money before the handler can even get his or her campaign spiel off the ground.
For voters in a poor country, a proffered “blue note” (hundred-dollar bill) can mean food, a paid bill or school fees. My theory is that people take the money and vote for whomever they feel like on Election Day.
In the United States, the money flows the other way: Millions of dollars donated to campaigns. (This happens in Belize, in smaller amounts).
There are the modest donations that individual voters send, in the hope their contributions will help pay for TV ads, bumper stickers, or campaign volunteers’ coffee.
Then, there are there big checks written to candidates, PACs and causes. The donors are banking on the fact that winners will not be able to forget all those zeros when the time comes for favors and special consideration.
You’d think that knowing money plays such a huge role in the democratic process would turn us off–and many people are, in fact, turned off.
And, yet. And, yet. The ability to vote in an election has an addictive quality; we are hooked on the idea that each of us can make a difference.
Explaining TED and TEDx to the uninitiated can be a challenge. If you say, “It’s about great, important ideas,” the whole thing sounds more highbrow that it really is. To say, “It’s inspiring,” makes it sound vaguely religious. “Talks by cool people about cool things?” Well, you get the idea.
August 29, 2015 was the night of TEDxKC’s “Reimagine” event. TEDxKC is the largest TEDx event in the United States, and among the largest in the world. While smaller TEDx endeavors may focus on local speakers and entertainers, the Kansas City version brings in names from around the country and even the world. One local “Challenge” speaker, chosen through a video submission process, joined the lineup.
As a TEDxKC volunteer, I helped hand out T-shirts and swag bags before the show and earned a free ticket to the simulcast. Both it and the the live show (both at Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts) were sold out.
Terri Trespicio: She used to work for Martha Stewart. Now she’s a branding strategist with her own podcast, Solopreneur. Favorite quote from TEDxKC: “You don’t follow your passion. Your passion follows you.” Her message was about how waiting around for passion to strike can mean a host of missed opportunities.
Martin Pistorius: He rolled onto the stage in wheelchair, with a laptop balanced on his knees. The freelance web developer (originally from South Africa, living in London) spent more than a decade trapped in a world only he knew existed–unable to communicate, but able to see, hear and understand everything around him. It took an aromatherapist to alert family and medical experts that Pistorius was ready for the world. His book is Ghost Boy. Favorite quote from TEDxKC: “We are told actions speak louder than words, but I wonder: do they?” In the end, it was his words that made the difference.
Scott Hamilton. Yes, that Scott Hamilton! The Olympic figure skater, a cancer survivor, is now a leading proponent of a cancer treatment I’d never heard of. It promises to beat cancer without the toll chemo and traditional radiation can take. Favorite quote for TEDxKC: “There’s a new kid in town and it’s called proton therapy.” I learned that proton therapy is offered in only about a dozen places around the country, it is currently very expensive, and that major insurance companies won’t cover it–even through Medicaid and Medicare do and it’s FDA-approved. There is center planned for Kansas City, Hamilton said at TEDxKC.
Chaz Ebert. She is the woman who married Roger Ebert, the film critic. Now she runs a foundation that aims to bring empathy to the filmmaking. Sounds like a tall order! Still, if anyone can do it, Ebert can. Favorite quote from TEDxKC: “When we empathize with others, it turns out to be in our best interest as well.”
On Sunday, Aug. 9, voters from around the Stann Creek District converged on the village of Independence to cast their ballots at a United Democratic Party (UDP) convention. It was a three-way race to represent the Stann Creek West electoral division as standard bearer in the next General Election (date as yet to be determined).
We boarded a boat for Independence on the lagoon side of Placencia at 10 a.m. on Sunday. It was one of several flying a United Democratic Party flag bearing the name, “Walter.” Of the dozen or so people on board, about half wore red t-shirts emblazoned with UDP slogans or pro-Walter wording in white lettering.
All three candidates used boats and buses to bring their supporters to the polls. Upon arrival at Independence Primary School, voters navigated a genial gauntlet of die-hard boosters at the school yard gate who encouraged undecideds to pick their candidates. I had the feeling there were not very many undecideds.
In addition to bringing people to the polls, each candidate provided supporters with a full rice-and-beans meal at midday.
There are two electoral divisions in the Stann Creek District: The principal town of Dangriga and the rest of the district, known as Stann Creek West. MORE
The three candidates:
Walter Garbutt, retired teacher
Nathan Young, UDP constituency chairperson
Ivan Williams, Labour Commissioner of Belize
According to Belizebreakingnews.com, UDP party chairman “Alberto August described Sunday’s turnout as the biggest convention held by the United Democratic Party (UDP) in the division of Stann Creek West.” Walter Garbutt won with about 50 percent of the 3,100 votes cast.
I am not registered to vote in Belize (although, as a citizen and homeowner, I think I could be), so I attended the convention as an observer.
Independence Primary School’s ground floor classrooms each served as polling places, based on alphabetical order. One room was reserved for the party Secretariat: UDP Secretary General Pearl Stuart and a team of party workers collected the paper ballots here, ensured their validity and stowed them away in a series of plastic bags. There were UDP staffers on hand to answer questions from voters about the process, but not about the candidates.
My aunt remembers a time when verifying voter eligibility was based on facial recognition: If a poll worker recognized you as living in the precinct where you said you lived, you could vote. Now, voters must be properly registered ahead of time and bring their photo IDs to the polls. Workers then check their list of registered voters to ensure you are eligible.
In Belize, where ballots are counted by hand, each voter dips an index finger into red ink to show he or she has already cast a ballot. Afterward, many people lingered in the school yard chatting with friends, meeting the candidates themselves or simply taking in the scene.
Hon. Anthony “Boots” Martinez, Minister of Human Development, Social Transformation and Poverty Alleviation, mingled among the voters–shaking hands and thanking people for turning out.
Also on hand, the man whose departure from the party precipitated the convention: Melvin Hulse, former division standard bearer, came out to cast his ballot. In June, Hulse stepped down after a scandal involving tape recordings–recordings on which he reportedly slammed his party leader, Prime Minister Dean Barrow. Despite being in disgrace with party leadership, Hulse seems to remain popular with many voters, who greeted him with familiarity and affection. No doubt, Hulse voted for Nathan Young, whom he endorsed upon resigning from the party and his government post.
Overall, the atmosphere was peaceful and even festive. The stream of voters throughout the morning was steady and orderly. Still, the atmosphere, however easy-going, carried with it an urgency: This is important; we can vote, and we will vote.
Non-journalists are often surprised to learn that working in journalism is not all excitement, fun and a deep sense of fulfillment. Working in television and digital news as I do, I find myself explaining that one of the biggest issues facing leaders is morale–and it’s one that often gets short shrift in the fast-paced, intense daily flow of work.
As many corporations have learned, a workforce of frustrated, frightened and angry employees is bad for productivity. There’s a reason new companies place a high premium on workplace amenities, generous benefits and opportunities for training and growth.
So why are so many journalists bummed out?
1. We are constantly finding out disturbing information about human nature.
2. That ever-present, sneaking feeling that you just missed a very important story/scoop.
3. Highly competitive. Journalists are constantly sizing themselves up against the news operation “across the street” as well as against their own co-workers. This is a losing game, but we can’t resist playing it.
4. Change. New technology, new platforms, new economic realities. It’s all scary.
5. With great responsibility and public presence come outsized egos. And, the flip-side is deep insecurity.
6. One minute you’re winning, the next you are down in the cellar.
A recent study looked at how constantly monitoring performance via metrics affects newsroom morale. No surprise, it found that simply checking how individual digital stories performed–or looking at daily television ratings–can be either be a huge downer or a massive upper–and both outcomes offer distortion that can feed into insecurity and frustration. MOREStudy: Metrics have ‘powerful influence’ on journalists’ morale
7. Work-life balance. Say what?
8. Money. Unless you are a network anchor who writes a best-seller and marries money, you are unlikely to be rich. You will work very hard for long hours.
9. Love and hate from the public. When we give voice to the voiceless, expose the baddies and hold the powerful accountable we are heroes. When mess up, everyone knows and won’t let us forget it.
10. Bosses who just don’t get it.
Believe it or not, journalists are not always the best leaders! We tend to be impatient, cynical, skeptical and highly motivated by individual achievement. The qualities that make a reporter, producer or other newsie great at news gathering can make us terrible as managers. Recommended:What Great Bosses Know (podcasts)
As a newsroom leader myself, I find one of the toughest challenges is distinguishing between individual and organizational angst: There are people who have personal or professional problems unique to them, no matter where they happen to be working. Then are also low morale themes that permeate and fester. Tackling morale problems effectively requires leaders to correctly diagnose before taking action.
So why to we do it?
Remember that excitement, fun and a deep sense of fulfillment I mentioned earlier? It does exist! Also, we love being in the know and on the front lines of life.
There is no formula for all of this. But, we know listening and hearing are vital. We know that walking the talk speaks volumes. Suggestions welcome!