"the states"

My time in India is dwindling rapidly, which makes me feel totally out of sorts. The research has constantly been in motion, as I work closely with my informants daily in their classrooms and teacher trainings.  Even informal conversations and (participant) observations add rich information to my research.  Being involved in cultural programs and festivities gave me a whole other perspective on certain aspects of my research as well.  That’s enough about that, the point is time is running out, but the research is still going strong!  It will be exciting to better organize and analyze my data upon return to the states. 

I hate that I’ve adopted the term “the states” when referring to my homeland.  I’ve never been more aware than now of the fact that I am an American and I have a home and family in “the states,” which is a distant unattainable place to so many people.  It’s been strange to be constantly confronted with and reminded of my “nationality” or even this cultural identity I would have denied having until now.  Depending on the conversation, person, or moment I feel different each time I can say “I am an American.”  Many times I feel embarrassed, other times proud, and overall I feel like my being an American Mormon from Orem, Utah has been something that is finally interesting.  Never again will it be interesting, but for 3 months in India it was. J  I am an American. 

My privileged upbringing and living conditions have never been so apparent to me.  I’m not saying I constantly think to myself while fumbling around in the rubble of a ruined city and uncivilized people, “Oh I’m so lucky I’m so lucky!!” because actually I absolutely don’t, probably because I am not fumbling around in anything except lush shrubbery maybe, or once I fell really hard on a path while running through the farms.  I don’t feel like anything is ruined or uncivilized, in fact I constantly think to myself that these people are “so lucky, so lucky” in ways that are far more significant than temporal matters.  In fact, I’ll be losing a lot when I return to the U.S.  Here there is a sense of community, peace, selflessness, and general happiness that only exists in small conditional networks in my life in Utah.  Something must be written though regarding the fact that I may have acquired the gratitude everyone said I would about my life in America.  It isn’t the warm showers, toilets that are toilets, big fluffy beds, pizza at Nicolitalia’s, pretzel M&Ms, shopping malls and fast food, cars, movie theaters (oh, my gosh, did I tell anyone about the movie theater in Mysore?!?!  THEY BROUGHT MY FOOD OUT TO ME ON A TRAY), or any other American luxuries that I’ve grown an added gratitude for.  It is my students.  It is my parents, family, friends, and teachers.  It’s the sound of voices of the people I love and the examples they are to me of good human beings.  It is also education: books, libraries, media, discussion, art, music, etc. And okay fine I really am very grateful for pretzel M&Ms.

We went to Hampi last week and spent all day every day just bumbling around ancient ruins and Hindu temples. 

To read more and see good pictures, check out my friends’ blogs: 

http://beauhilton.blogspot.com/

http://britaroundtheworld.blogspot.com

No use rewriting history.  What in the world does that even mean?!

The box from “the states” (ugh) came Saturday but I’m unable to distribute materials to the teachers and students until Wednesday because today was a holiday and tomorrow we’re going on an outing.  The box was jam packed with wonderful supplies that these children and staff may have never seen before.  When opening the box and searching through all the giant bags I just kept pulling out one good thing after another and grimacing like a little girl on Christmas.  I’m sure the materials will have the same effect on the teachers and students here because I was excited and I don’t even get to keep any of it!  A very warm loving thank you to my mother and father, my dear friends, and my coworkers.  You’re all such selfless, lovely people.

Tibetan Teacher Trainings and American Donations

Me & the nurse in our chupas.  This is what all the teachers wear to work daily. 

This week I had the privilege of training the special educators, which was a pure joy.  Training has consisted of (1) how to take proper data, (2) writing objectives, (3) managing problem behavior with positive behavioral supports, (4) teaching social skills, and (5) how to deliver direct instruction.  Many discussions regarding individual student issues ensued as well. It’s a real honor to train teachers at Karuna Home because they are so incredibly humble.  In fact, at the end of the second training the head special educator asked me to come to her class to observe.  No one ever asks for an observer!!  It was shocking.  I’ve been observing other classes instead of hers lately because I have already been in her class over 10 times and I thought I was harassing her.  But to my surprise, she asked where I’ve been and requested that I take notes on behaviors and instruction and disseminate the notes afterward.  She is just so incredibly humble, like most Tibetans I’ve met.  Working with human beings such as these has been inspiring.

Angels from home are assembling a giant package of items to donate to Karuna Home to reduce problem behavior and increase learning.  I made most of the list, but teachers slowly started adding to it requesting specific items.  When I tell the teachers, “A big package is coming for you!” they look so excited and express gratitude profusely. 


Well, so, thanks for donating you guys.  The kids will love it too.

Sitting in the Back or to the Side

My objective every day since I got here has been to observe classrooms and interview educational service personnel.  The interviews are semistructured, audio-recorded, 30-minute minimum interviews.  The setting has been the teacher meeting room with two chairs facing each other across a table.  The teachers are highly cooperative here and are very honest and informative about skills they’d like to improve as teachers at Karuna Home.  I don’t know if revealing results on my blog before analysis is the smartest thing in the world to do, so I’ll keep things really shallow and just know excitement is lurking!

One of the best faces.

I’ve completed five interviews and hope to complete at least five more.  I observe all different classrooms every day during class time while taking detailed, structured notes.  During the first few observations I’m a total nuisance with my laptop and gadgets, even though I’m sitting in the back or to the side.  The students at first constantly turn around and point to my laptop and make typing gestures with their fingers.  One student blows kisses to me several times and many other students will simply walk over to me and give me a high five.  Many students think it's cute to make silly faces to me and each other, always hoping I'll be their audience. After a few minutes, though, I can become invisible and really be in the back or to the side. 

Sitting in the back or to the side used to be my “thing,” especially when finding a seat in church or class, but as a special educator in a special education classroom, I feel totally unnatural and almost uncomfortable in my own skin.  At the same time, the expectations in these classrooms are entirely different in some ways than the ones in mine, so even if I did follow through with my instincts on the first few days of observation and start behavior managing or instruction assisting it would probably flop. 

This is me strolling Karuna Home.

As I observe the classes and complete interviews, as I stroll the campus grounds and take notes on schedules, ideals, etc. posted on the walls, as I casually talk with service personnel, and especially as I play with the children on the playground my thoughts are in the most literal sense possible flooded with ideas.  Sometimes I sit back and laugh about the sudden surge of ideas because the first day I stepped into my classroom as a fresh teacher I was blank with ideas.  I trial and errored my way through many problems, while fortunately always being able to rely on my formal education.  In many ways I can empathize for the teachers here without special education training, as in some ways they are experiencing what I did on my first day of teaching every day they approach their work.  But in other ways they are educational veterans, so it’s actually completely different.

The point here is that when I first heard the expectation of my giving teacher training workshops, I had a few vague ideas about what an special educator might need a refresher in, but thought, “Oh great, what will I talk about?”  Now I’m asking the exact same question, but with the issue being that there’s just too much to talk about!  The trouble now is narrowing my ideas into practical workshops that are easily implemented in a short amount of time.  I feel determined to move forward putting my ideas to practice and also a strong sense of gratitude to my professors, my coworkers, my friends, my students, my family, and my aunt Jenny.  Any expertise I may have acquired was all at the hand of my teachers in life and finally I feel like the piece of paper I complain about that I’ve crudely stapled on the wall above my desk really means something.  The piece of paper is a silly evidence of my formal education, the same formal education I’ve mumbled and grumbled about all throughout acquiring it and even sometimes after.  At this point though, man, I owe a lot to that formal education, or I guess I’m just realizing my responsibility because of it as well.  I'm not going to quote Harry Potter right here, though I know it's totally appropriate.

One Week

This is earlier this week: I woke up at 5 a.m. and went running in a rocky, weedy, wobbly piece of land that an orphanage and prayer rooms will be built for Karuna Home.  It’s the safest place, though, because the main road is the road near us and people die on it all the time.  It was really lumpy and muddy and it was only ½ mile per lap, and only if we got creative during the laps with crisscrossing and the like.

Tibetan camps. After running, showering and breakfasting, we went to get my protected area permit from the police station.  We thereafter took a rickshaw to town and bought groceries and other necessary items.  After this we met up with Beau and Lori and went to the Golden Temple and the Tibetan settlement camps.  It is the most auspicious day in Tibetan Buddhism.  Today is Saka Dawa, the day the Buddha was enlightened.  Karma counts twice as much today, I’ve been told, and because of this, many offerings and rituals were being done at the Golden Temple and throughout the camps.  It was spectacular.  Seeing the monks and the people worshipping was beautiful. The sounds, the smells, the sights, all of it was sort of unreal.  I kept thinking of my brother Brandon the whole time, who really was born in the wrong part of the world.  He should be among monks.  I also let my thoughts wonder to the “Free Tibet” movement while passing shops selling shirts, purses, bags, and other items with the phrase printed on them.  As I was witnessing the worshipping and reading the phrase and reflecting on Tibet, Tibet, I began to feel a strong sense of connection to the need for the movement, and a completely different interpretation of what it means.  These people really have been in physical, spiritual, and cultural bondage in many ways, and yet what they have to offer to the world is beautiful and such an asset.  Without getting uncomfortably emotional, let it be noted that I was totally floored by what I saw today.

Children’s performance. Upon returning to Karuna Home, we were able to have a feast and watch a performance by the students.  I cried silently, of course, at the end of nearly every performance. Children with physical disabilities and mental disabilities—some mild, but most severe—were the stars of the show, and the people really loved seeing them.  No one was pitying them, they were admiring them.  It was fantastic.  I knew that these children are regularly relegated to beggars or other positions in life because of confused societal norms or inability to sustain them, but at Karuna they live.  They have such meaning in their lives. My participation was limited to sitting in the front row (!!) with my fellow BYU classmates and other visitors and monks while we ate snacks and drank soda.  At the very end of all the dances and song numbers the kids pulled us up to dance in front of everyone.  My dancing is like that of Elaine from Seinfeld, so they got the show of their lives.  My classmates probably felt ashamed when they saw the way my body moves. 

Research. The people here are extremely eager about getting teacher training from a special educator in a master’s program.  I think my sort of presence here is unusual—especially my being American.  Well I’m a Young American.  Like David Bowie says.  I’m a young American researcher/teacher/master’s student with many years experience and a very confused sense of humor.  The point is, people don’t want me sitting around here for three months watching them I guess.  Who would have thought?

After talking with two beloved professors from the excellent BYU, I’m relieved and happy to move forward with research.  They said it’s normal for ethnographies/case studies to have changing elements, and that I must complete my research as planned (at least interviewing and observing portions) prior to any training of staff, and that I could complete this in a shorter amount of time if things go well and train after. Completing big parts of the original research more quickly means I will be staying at Karuna thereafter entirely to train and volunteer and do other interesting research.  This makes me terribly happy, as I sometimes resent that I'm not intervening.  Soon!

Institutional Review Board

Being required to submit a proposal to the IRB has only been a total burden from my perspective until class on Monday.  It seemed like overkill and just another way radical people are taking charge of something, and well, really it was just more paperwork (which is my nemesis).  It reminded me a lot of special education paperwork—all of the boxes we have to check, all the individualized education program phrases we have to use within the truly “valuable” text, all of the signatures, all of the forms, ALL OF THE PAPERS.  On some days I have the perspective of, “This is so useless!” or “What a waste of time.”  My thinking doesn’t even go in a place where I can see the value of ensuring that I use the following phrases when writing present levels of academic achievement and functional performance:

“________ has a disability that adversely affects his/her academic achievement (progress) and functional performance in general education math curriculum and requires specially designed instruction. According to _________ (data source), given ______ (date), ___________ (student) is currently functioning at _______________ (instructional level) and can __________. _____ disability in math affects his/her ability to progress in the general education math curriculum. He/She needs to ___________.”

The stuff that’s highlighted I just don’t understand.  The black print is totally necessary.  Of course we know this person has a disability that affects progress, that’s why they have an IEP!  And of course the disability in the area listed affects progress in the general ed. curriculum…that’s the nature of the situation.  And even though the goals I write in individualized education programs (IEPs) are called “measurable annual goals” and the goal page has a title indicating so, a new requirement this month is for me to write at the beginning of each goal “within one year, ____,” as if we’re not sure how long the goal should be worked on!  It makes the goal harder to read, and detracts from meaning, but I suppose it’s just an additional way to create accountability for the small number of people that might take advantage of a marginalized population, or may neglect them due to no obligation or guideline.

Tuskegee Syphilis Experiments
(http://www.uaff.us/tuskegee_experiments.htm)

Then I remember, there was a time when people with disabilities were not considered people.  There was a time when Nazis performed medical experiments on Jews.  There was a time when human beings with syphilis served as guinea pigs for science and went without medical treatment, many of them dying.   Marginalized populations, vulnerable populations, have been taken advantage as partly a result of lack of regulations, lack of knowledge, and lack of review.  The IRB serves as a protection for these vulnerable populations, and my willingness and adamancy about completing the IRB process has increased monumentally.  I have more commitment, and less complaint, which is such a beautiful product that naturally follows when gaining knowledge, abandoning some more of my ignorance.   I rather comply with strict guidelines that decrease the chances of a study taking advantage of a person or people, than skip through some paperwork for the sake of time.  Overall, the principle on all the paperwork in my life is a good one, and my attitude about the burdens of it has changed.

Nazi Human Experimentation
(http://www.uaff.us/tuskegee_experiments.htm)