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View from the porch at Old Bedlam Farm

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My summer is quickly coming to an end.  School starts in a few short weeks.  It’s time for me to focus, get into the classroom, and make plans for the year.

But first, I want to celebrate the summer life, that laid-back time when the day is completely empty.  When you can take time to explore a used bookstore in the woods of upstate New York.

When you can take time to peruse an antique store down the road in Salem.  Don’t forget to open the tiny drawers to find the smallest treasures, like a mustard seed pendant.

Leaning on my friends Julianne Harmatz and Kimberley Moran.

 

When you can take a lawn chair up the hill, find the shade of a tree, and write in the quiet of the morning.

Tara writes on the hillside. Sophie explores nearby.

When you can “Live like Heaven is on Earth.”

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

I don’t know how I have come to be so blessed.  If you’ve been keeping up with my blog or Facebook posts, you know I spent two weeks in Tanzania, Africa, a gift from my amazing mother-in-law.  And today, I am in upstate New York at Tara Smith’s farm.  Like Tanzania, the nights and mornings are cool, and that alone is reason to leave South Louisiana in the mid-summer.  Unlike Tanzania, this place is lush and hilly and green.

On the farm, I can breathe slowly.  I feel an energy for just being present.  Tara is a perfect hostess.  She ran down the hill from her writing spot five minutes ago because I asked for a lap blanket.  Our dinner was fresh and delicious beginning with Caprese salad and ending with sliced watermelon.  This morning, blueberry pancakes, my favorite.

I was trying to remember how I got here.  Not in a geographical sense, but when did I meet and become so attached to these friends?  I am here with Tara, Julianne, and Kimberley.  (They are each writing a post today about our time together.) The fact is I can trace each friend back to this very space, my blog.  We met through a commitment to writing and sharing our lives with each other.  Connections happen here that I do not plan or predict or that I even realize are happening until a day like today.

 

Julianne traveled from L.A. and I traveled from LA. to be together on a hill in Washington County, NY.

This is Tara’s house on the farm.  It is as lovely and charming on the inside as you can see from the outside.  I am back in time to a place of stillness and grace.

This is Sophie.  Every farm needs a dog like Sophie, keeping watch and providing comfort.

 

 

The four of us are taking a break from talking to write our separate slices.  Sharing our slices of life is what brought us all here to be present with each other, to make space for writing, and to enjoy the abundance of life.  I am so grateful for Tara’s generosity, for this community of writers, and for this amazing gift of nature.  I can believe the world is good.  I can feel hope.  I can be me.

Morning walk in the woods.

gentle moon

rising over the hills

abiding grace

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I have been home for a week from a most amazing trip to Tanzania, Africa and still processing the experience through blog posts.  You can read them all:

Tanzania Travel Journal #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Today I am celebrating our school visit.  The Grand Circle Foundation sponsors a number of schools in Tanzania.  The one we visited is Endoro Primary School in Karatu.

The head teacher, “Mother Mary”, took us into her small office to tell us about the school and answer any questions. Most of her students come to school from the Iraqw tribe. They do not know the national language, Kiswahili. All subjects in primary school are taught in the national language, and English is one class. Later, in secondary school, all subjects are taught in English. These students not only have to master many subjects, they must do so in many languages.

They begin school at 7 AM with cleaning and eating a breakfast of porridge. The classrooms were very basic with a chalkboard at one end and 10 desks in 3 rows with 2-3 students at each desk. The desks consisted of a wooden bench and a short wooden table top. Their supplies include pencils, assignment books, and textbooks. There are no computers at this school.

While we were there, the regional director passed by, Sandra.  It was amazing to hear her speak of the foundation and their mission to improve education.  The Tanzanian government has made all public schools free.  But that means there is no longer a $10 tuition fee per year.  Costs for supplies, books, uniforms, food, etc. are not covered.  Grand Circle Foundation recently built more classrooms and installed toilets at Endoro School.

Sandra assured us 100% of the donations go directly to the schools. She told us the cost of textbooks is about $3-$6 each. What a bargain to us in the US!

Endoro Primary School, Karatu, Tanzania

Endoro Primary School, Karatu, Tanzania

School motto

I was charmed by the students that I met.  One girl told me her name is Martha, my third daughter’s name, so we made an immediate connection.  I hope to establish pen pals for my students.

Visiting with school girls

Visiting with school girls

My birthday is August 11th. For my birthday, I am asking my friends to donate to the Grand Circle Foundation specifically for Endoro school.  You can donate by emailing me for a donation form, signing on to the Grand Circle Foundation Website, or sending a payment to me through Pay Pal and I will donate. Just think what $10 can do for these kids!

Here is a video of the students singing a welcome song and my small group singing their National Anthem. (Sorry, it’s quite loud, so turn down your volume.)

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Mary Lee at A Year of Reading

Poetry Friday round-up is with Mary Lee at A Year of Reading

I am dedicating this Poetry Friday post to my mother-in-law, Anne Simon, who took me on an amazing adventure to Tanzania, Africa to celebrate her 85th birthday.

I have been blogging about this trip since I’ve returned.  You can read previous posts: Safe Water for Eastern Africa, Tarangire National Park, Maasai village, and Lions on the Serengeti.

The only way to thank Anne “Minga” for this fabulous opportunity was to thoroughly enjoy it.  I immersed myself in Presence, my one little word, taking in the experience with my whole mind, body, and spirit.

On the day of Minga’s birthday, we set out at sunrise to tour areas on the Serengeti with rocky outcrops called kopjes.  Kopjes are places where lions linger and hide their young.  We stopped to have breakfast on one of these kopjes.  Before any of us got out of the vehicles, though, our guides scouted and clapped away any animal life.

Kopjes (pronounced ko-pee-us) dotted the Serengeti landscape.

Kopjes (pronounced ko-pee-us) dotted the Serengeti landscape.

 

Singing "Happy Birthday" to Anne on the kopjes breakfast.

Singing “Happy Birthday” to Anne on the kopjes breakfast.

I created a video to capture the birthday celebration complete with a cake and the camp workers singing a favorite celebration song, Hakuna Matata (not the Disney version).

 

Since today is Poetry Friday, I found an appropriate poem to share.  “The Journey” by Mary Oliver describes the individual that my mother-in-law is, strong and independent.  I am very grateful that she is willing to share her journey with me.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.

–Mary Oliver

This poem, along with many other poems from women, can be found in The Woman in this Poem, selected and introduced by Georgia Heard.

 

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

 

Me with my new Maasai friend, Namitu.

Me with my new Maasai friend, Namitu.

 

Visiting the Maasai village was a moving and heartwarming experience.  The Maasai tribe has managed to hold on to their traditions and culture in the midst of modernization in Tanzania.  Some of the practices are controversial and should not be continued.  Some, however, are kept as deep-seeded practices that define them as a people.

In the village, each woman in our group was matched with a tribal woman.  They dressed us in traditional drapes and jewels.  They taught us how to bead and weave baskets, to carry thatches on our heads, and to do some of the tasks of women.

My friend’s name was Namitu.  She could speak limited English and asked my name.  When I told her, she pointed to her 2-year old daughter and said, “My baby, Margaret.”  This type of thing happened once before to Karen, a woman on our tour.  I think this may be a way they honor us.

Learning to bead a bracelet

Learning to bead a bracelet

We walked to the cow pasture where men blooded a calf.  Apparently, this does not harm the calf.  They shoot a spear to the jugular vein.  When the blood gushes, they catch it in a long gourd-like container that holds goat’s milk.  I did not bravely partake, but a young traveler said it tasted like salty, creamy soup.

Blooding the calf

Blooding the calf

Another tradition that we participated in was a dance.  This may have been a mating dance of sorts because Namitu asked me to pick a husband.  Her little son held my hand and led me to a line of chanting men.  One of these men turned and touched me shoulder to shoulder.  If I had accepted this marriage proposal, I would have had to pay in cows.  Wealth is measured in cows.

After all the festivities, we went into the chief’s hut to have a discussion of controversial issues.  They allowed open discussion.  Karen asked the Maasai woman (29 yrs old and mother of 3 daughters) if she was circumcised.  She is, but now they are educated about this, so she will not pass this mutilation on to her daughters.  Karen was so touched she rose and hugged and kissed the young woman.  I was moved to tears.  This practice should be stopped.  Our guide assured us that as more and more of the Maasai are sent to school and educated, they learn of the practices that should be abandoned.

In the end, we were given the opportunity to shop for beaded items.  I bought the circular ring Namitu made.  She said it took her a month to bead it.
Even though this visit was organized to show us an enjoyable time, I felt the spirit of the Maasai and came to respect their culture.  I hope they are able to keep the spirit of their traditions as they come to know and understand the world.

Laughter is universal!

Laughter is universal!

 

This is my third Tanzania journal entry.  To read about clay water filters, journal entry #1, click here.  To read and enjoy a video of Tarangire animals, click here.

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I am writing a series of posts about my recent trip to Tanzania, Africa.  You can find the first post here about ceramic water filters.

The second day of our tour led us to our first safari experience on the Tarangire.  Tarangire means “river of the warthogs.”  Geographically, it is classified as a wooded grassland savannah.

I was fascinated by the movement of the animals.  They do not seem to care at all that their territory is being invaded by these monster safari vehicles.  They just carry on with the business of eating and drinking.

The birds are beautiful here.  Even the pesky birds that peck the ground at the picnic area are amazing.  They are called the superb starling.  And they are truly superb.

Splendid starling

Superb starling

In the Tarangire, we witnessed a part of the great migration with zebras and wildebeests rushing to a watering hole.  I captured this movement on video.

 

zebra with wildebeest

zebra with wildebeest

The guides communicate by radio.  We would hear quick Swahili words then drive to something amazing.  One of these sights was a python that had obviously eaten something really large.  It lay still under a bush.  We were told it would not be able to move for a month.  Thank God.  After that sight, I stopped drinking water.  I was not going to have to go in a bush (water the flowers) for anything.

For these next few days we stayed on Lake Burunge.  The dining area overlooked the lake where thousands of pink flamingoes waded.  We had a nature hike to view these birds closer up.  We were accompanied by a Maasai warrior with his spear in case we encountered any dangerous animals.

Lake Burunge sunset

Lake Burunge sunset

 

flamingoes

flamingoes

 

Maasai guard

Maasai guard

Our guide assured us that Maasai are trained at a very young age to defend their animals.  We could hear hyenas in the distance and were told the following morning that our guards were awake all night chasing them from our camp.  These tents were permanent solar-powered structures up on wooden platforms.  I was not afraid.  I trusted the guards would keep us safe.

Click on the video to view the zebras and wildebeests flocking to the watering hole, a family of elephants crossing our path, and a harem of ostriches.  I thought about toying with the sound but decided to leave it in for you to have an authentic experience.  Enjoy!

 

 

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I have returned from the trip of a lifetime.  For my mother-in-law’s 85th birthday, she treated me and my sister-in-law to an Overseas Adventure Travel tour of Tanzania, Africa.  O.A.T. is a tour company that prides itself on providing a total cultural experience.  You don’t just view a country, you experience it.

Our trip to Tanzania began on June 25th, but we did not arrive into Kilimanjaro airport until the night of June 26th after two lengthy flights, Houston to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Tanzania.  There is no way around it.  Africa is far away!

This experience was so full that I will be writing multiple blog posts to share as much as I can with you.

We spent the first few days in Arusha.  Arusha is a bustling city.  Our first stop was a clay water filter project.

Front of Safe Water Ceramics in Arusha, Tanzania.

Front of Safe Water Ceramics in Arusha, Tanzania.

The Safe Water Ceramics of East Africa produces clay water filters to provide clean water to families and schools around Tanzania and Kenya.  The number one health problem in Africa comes from limited access to clean water.  We were fascinated by the process of creating these filters.

Surrounded by drying water filters, Mesiaki demonstrates his foot powered pottery wheel.

Surrounded by drying water filters, Mesiaki demonstrates his foot powered pottery wheel.

In 2005, Tracy Hawkins met Mesiaki Kimerei, a master potter in Arusha, Tanzania.  After learning of the dire need for filtered water and the process for making these clay water filters, she teamed up with Mesiaki to produce these ceramic filters.  In 2015, Safe Water Ceramics won the Energy Globe Award.

Proud of his Globe Award, Mesiaki is passing the skills to his daughter.

Proud of his Globe Award, Mesiaki is passing the skills to his daughter.

Eleven people in our group lined up to donate.  One water filter for a family or school costs $40.  You can learn more about the project and donate here.   Already, on the first day, I knew that this experience would have a profound effect on me.  Something that we take for granted, clean water, is a privilege in the country of Tanzania.

At the end of our first day, we were treated to a view of Mt. Kilimanjaro peeking out and saying “Jambo!”

Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance.

Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance.

 

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On the left is Augusta Scattergood. We met in person at NCTE '14.

On the left is Augusta Scattergood. We met in person at NCTE ’14.

I met Augusta Scattergood face to face at NCTE in 2014, but I knew of her and her writing back in 2012 when a neighbor and friend of my parents came to a book signing for my book Blessen. He told me about growing up with her in Cleveland, MS. and how she had had a book signing for Glory Be just a few weeks before. I had to get the book and wanted to meet her from that moment on.

I sent her a message letting her know I would love an ARC of her latest book, Making Friends with Billy Long. Officially, the book will be out in August. You can pre-order a copy here.

My Goodreads and Amazon review:

Making friends sounds like it would be easy, but there is nothing easy for Azalea Morgan. Azalea starts her summer resenting the fact that she must leave her home and friends in Texas to help her grandmother who lives in Paris Junction, Arkansas. When Grandma Clark gathers a group of children to help in her garden, Azalea feels like an outsider. She is cautious of Willis DeLoach, a bully, and doesn’t warm up to Melinda Bowman, a girly girl. Yet Billy Wong is an outsider like her.

As Azalea adjusts to life in Paris Junction, she comes to understand her grandmother and enjoy spending time with Billy. Willis appears grumpy and mean, but Azalea knows his real problem is finding a safe place to live with his younger sister. While Azalea looks forward to going back home to Texas, her life is forever changed by her summer in Paris Junction.

This book will appeal to children ages 8-11 as they, too, navigate complicated relationships and learn how to accept others for who they are.

 

new Billy Wong hires Cvr

I am always curious about the decisions authors make in writing their books. I interviewed Augusta Scattergood about the writing of Making Friends with Billy Wong.

I am a collector of good opening lines for books, my favorite being E. B. White’s opening line for Charlotte’s Web, “Where’s Papa going with that ax?”

Your first line for Making Friends with Billy Wong is “All it took to send my summer on the road to ruin was a fancy note and a three-cent stamp.” Can you talk about your process of getting to that line and if you had any other contenders?

What a great question! I also love first lines and yes, there were many contenders. What helped me settle on that final first line was the three-cent stamp mention which hinted at the time period, and the worry Azalea felt about meeting her grandmother and spending time with her.

Until I read something from somebody about not starting with a “Hello, my name is” opening, this was one of my early favorites. (I’m terrible about reading writing advice and thinking I must follow it. I need to work on this.) Though I do still like this one of (many) early drafts, it was possibly too abrupt to announce this tidbit before we actually know much about the story or the characters:

My name is Azalea Ann Morgan, and I’ve already heard all the jokes. Yes, I was named for a pink-flowered bush blooming outside the Kings Daughters’ Hospital room when Mama first laid eyes on me.

Making Friends is written mainly from the point of view of Azalea, (great name, BTW); however, we hear from Billy Wong in small sections of verse. What made you decide to include his voice and why verse?

Originally, I tried to write in THREE points-of-view, and a character named Noble was the third. He was much too strong to take a back seat to anybody. He was taking over the story! I’m saving him for another day. My critique group often comments on how I give characters the ax. Or combine their traits with another’s. I do a lot of wandering around before I figure out my stories.

I started writing Billy’s voice as straight narrative. It was awful, a huge info dump. I gave up. Now I was down to Azalea telling the story, but I despaired of losing Billy. There were certain things, events, impressions that only he could tell us. Plus, such a nice kid!
One day, I sat with a notebook doodling Billy Things (I even wrote that at the top of the page). What would Billy Wong be interested in? I doodled lists, newspaper notes, letters, Billy’s dreams, and I filled up a notebook with ideas. A true aha! moment.
I don’t think of them as verse exactly, but they spilled out with a certain poetic quality, and I liked that.

A peek into Augusta's notebook as she thought about Billy.

A peek into Augusta’s notebook as she thought about Billy.

You grew up in the segregated South. Billy Wong lives in Arkansas and Azalea is from Texas. Were you intentional about the setting? How does the setting influence the events in the story?

I love reading books where setting is a crucial part of the story. Right now, I’m reading THE HIRED GIRL, which takes place in Baltimore where I lived for a while. And that city is so wonderfully portrayed.

For me, setting is a huge part of my own writing. I don’t think I could set a book in the frozen north (though I did live in New Jersey for over 25 years, come to think of it), if I tried!
My childhood was bike rides, climbing trees to read a book, playing kick-the-can till it got dark. I can still feel the mosquito bites (and smell the DDT truck, sadly). Those are the details I know, and yes, they seem very southern.

But there were other things we didn’t see, or took for granted. There was a white side of my town and a black side. I learned from research that the Chinese often fit into both worlds. Even if I’m not describing some of these details, they slip subtly into my writing.
Perhaps I don’t write the kinds of books that could take place anywhere. But I think I write about family and friendship and feelings that are universal.

Willis DeLoach is an unlikable character, yet you build in some obvious reasons for his meanness. Willis does not change during the course of the novel. I was hoping he would somehow “see the light” and change his ways. Can you tell us about your impression of Willis and his character arc?

In my mind, Willis has small hints of seeing the light! But he’s a product of the times (1950s) and his environment. He worries that somebody’s going to take his place in his small world, replace him in school sports, usurp his tree hideaway. Unlikeable yes, yet he has a soft spot for his little sister. I think his eyes will open this year in school. Remember, before that time most people had never crossed paths with anybody who was different from them. Cross cultural and interracial friendships were not encouraged, and actually, there was little opportunity for someone like Willis DeLoach to truly know a boy like Billy Wong until the schools allowed Chinese American students to attend. I had to make his story true to the times.

Also, my book only spans a few weeks at the end of a summer. I decided it would be unrealistic to have Willis do a complete about-face and change his ways in that brief moment.

In the author’s note, you write about the research you did for historical context. Were there any surprises for you as you did this research?

As I mention in my note, I started writing after reading a very poignant essay written by a friend, Bobby Joe Moon, who also grew up in Cleveland, Mississippi. Children and even teenagers in the early 1960s in small southern towns could be oblivious to what was happening all around them. Bobby’s essay about the difficulties of growing up Chinese in the Deep South surprised me and made me think about sharing this story with young readers.

Many readers of my author’s note may be surprised to learn how many Chinese immigrants came to the south to open grocery stores. I’d shopped almost every day with my grandmother or my mother at those same stores and I knew they were there. But I was fascinated to discover why this happened. My research and my unrelenting questions posed to Chinese American friends uncovered so many fascinating details. I could not have told this story without asking a lot of questions.

All three of my novels have been historical fiction, requiring reading and digging deep, which I love. Uncovering surprises is really the best part of research, isn’t it?

IMWAYR 2015

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Poetry Friday round-up  is with Carol at Carol's Corner.

Poetry Friday round-up is with Carol at Carol’s Corner.

Deer in woods near New Castle Lake.

Deer in woods near New Castle Lake.

I’m feeling a little guilty sitting on the porch on the lake in Mississippi surrounded by my loving family and a blanket of warmth (highs already reaching upper 90’s). There is so much happening in the world that feels out of control, out of my reach of consciousness. And yet I look at nature and see the connections.

On my drive here to my parents’ house, I listened to podcasts. On the TED radio hour episode titled Becoming Wise, I heard the word mbuntu. In this story, South African Boyd Varty speaks about how animals already know this concept, that I am because we are.

I think we all need more mbuntu in our lives. We need to turn our focus on each other to be fully who we are.

The kayaker doesn’t look up
to see me watching him,
seeing how his body,
his paddle,
the water are one.
Stroke right, stroke left
sends a ripple from the water
to the trees,
where light dances like fine feathers.

Branches spread from bald cypress
to shade the grass,
hide the tree frog,
nest the swallow.
A bird calls
Here-a-here-a-here.
Cicadas buzz
like maracas at a Spanish festival.
The sun rises
to the sound of Samba.

–Margaret Simon

mbuntu

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

 

As many of you are, I am having trouble getting my head around another mass shooting.  What scares me most is the rhetoric that surrounds this tragic event. The talk of intolerance that perpetuates racism and fear.

I decided to look for hope.  In the midst of tragedy, we must have hope.  Hope is not denying the fear or the sadness.  Hope allows for something new to come forth.  Hope is like opening a window and hearing the cardinal singing.  Hope is smelling the fresh air after the rain and knowing a rainbow is up there somewhere.  Hope never fails.

 

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s acceptance speech at the Tony’s gives voice to what I am feeling.

We rise and fall and light from dying embers, remembrances that hope
and love last longer
And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love
cannot be killed or swept aside.

From a letter written by R. J. Palacio, author of Wonder, to the school district of Round Rock on disinviting Phil Bildner to their schools:

The truth is, I’m tired of intolerance. I’m tired of the unkindness that breeds intolerance. I’m tired of the ignorance that fuels it and the fear that spreads it. We must all—authors, publishers, teachers, librarians, and school administrators—work together to stop intolerance in its tracks when we see it. Kindness can never grow where intolerance has taken root.

If all you did was watch TV news or scroll through social media, you may think that our world was in dire trouble. Terrorism, racism, hatred, intolerance…

But I look to my students, my own children, my colleagues, my friends and I see love, hope, and light. Please, please, please look for the light. Find the helpers. See the good in others. Hope is everything, my friends. Hold on tight to that feather.

hope quote

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