Category Archives: Reflections

Sidelined by Broken Wrists – Part 1

Sidelined by broken wrists – Part 1

October 13, 2012:

I was at the annual Organization for the Study of Communication, Language and Gender Conference in Tacoma, WA, October 13, 2012. Earlier that day, I had been awarded the OSCLG Teacher/Mentor Award (to be honest, an award I had coveted my entire professional career). The evening event for our conference was a dance and karaoke party on the University of Puget Sound’s campus. I had purchased and shipped glass for family and friends that day at the glass museum and had dinner with wonderful friends.

At the dance party, I was in line to sing karaoke and dancing to a Madonna song with some friends. A friend came up and decided to spin me. At the height of the spin when I was backwards, she pulled her hand from mine and I went sailing backward, off the small dance floor, went airborne and put my hands behind me to catch myself as I fell. (It seemed like a good idea at the time.)

When I landed, it hurt, a lot, but I wasn’t thinking about my wrists. My first comment to my friend as she apologized and pulled me up by my hands from the floor was “Oh my God! I fell on my ass in front of the Foss sisters!” (top scholars in my discipline). Then I realized that I was really hurt. I turned white and my friend helped me to a chair. I had never felt pain like the pain that was emanating from my hands (that was how I identified it at that point).

I laid my head on the table and asked for ice. My friend got me a large pack of ice and I rested my wrists and hands on it. The pain was getting worse. I asked for more ice to put on top of my hands.  She brought me a smaller bag and I cried as she put it on my hands. It was excruciating. She knelt down next to me and asked, “Do we need to get you to the emergency room?”  I nodded yes and said “But there’s no way I can walk”.

Another friend got a van and 4 friends lifted the chair I was in to carry me to the van. I adopted what was to become a familiar pose over the next several months, my hands pointing upward and across my chest. At the hospital, the nurse who met our van at the emergency room asked, “Was there alcohol involved?” I quipped, “Clearly not enough”. She said, “Good, you have a sense of humor.”

As we sat in the waiting room, my two friends and I, I kept joking about hurting my wrists dancing. That became a pretty popular story that evening in the ER. Through the pain, there was a lot of laughter. When we were finally led back to the examination room, I realized that my fingers were swelling. “Oh my gosh! We have to get my rings off”, I exclaimed. “I’ll cry if they have to cut them off”. All of my rings have stories and are very meaningful to me. My friend took them off and put them in her purse. It was an evening full of waiting, but I was fully present. My friends and I talked and laughed and then one of them would disappear for a while to call and update our friends at the conference about my progress. I don’t know why, but I kept making people laugh. I don’t normally think I’m especially funny, but that night, I guess I was. One of my friends told me the next year at the conference that the nurses told her: “Your mom is a hoot!” She thought I might be offended the nurse thought I was her mom. I’m wasn’t, of course, she’s tall, gorgeous and looks like a model.  I was far from offended. 🙂

We spent from roughly 9:30 p.m. until 3 a.m. in the emergency room. The verdict, a bilateral fracture of my left wrist, a trilateral fracture of my right wrist. After they gave me major pain pills, which they held off on doing until they were sure I didn’t need surgery, they splinted my wrists and put me in slings, my arms across my chest. We went back to the hotel so I could rest a bit before my flight.

My friends tried to get ahold of my graduate students. I was at the conference with 2 of them. We were to leave the next morning for home and had to be at the airport by 6 a.m. for our flight. My friend wanted me to stay with her in Tacoma, but I knew I’d rest better at home, so I declined. After all, I had 2 students with me to assist. What could go wrong?!

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Who am I on this Hunger Awareness journey?

Each of our journeys with hunger is unique. What brought us to passionately want to eradicate hunger is equally so. For me, in the autumn of 2009, I was finding my land legs in my new home at Wichita State University. I joined the faculty here in August 2007 as a professor in the Elliott School of Communication, and the Kansas Health Foundation Distinguished Chair in Strategic Communication. After more than 20 years in Nevada, I had forgotten that it takes a while to acclimate to a new place, but after 1 ½ years, I was feeling pretty settled. My daughter was doing well in school. I was learning the university. It was time to look outside our personal journeys and find something that would feed our souls, something that would allow us to make a positive difference.

The door that opened that autumn was to Numana, Inc.  and I have been committed to this organization ever since.  A colleague asked me to review some early press releases and media articles and offer suggestions. Not being a journalist, I agreed, hesitantly, but also offered to run it by my journalism colleagues. (This is one of the benefits for a social scientist of working in an integrated school of communication. If I don’t have the skills, someone else does.) I gave my feedback on content and my colleague Eric Wilson gave his on format. I was hooked. Rick McNary, founder and CEO of Numana told a compelling story of hungry children in Nicaragua and the idea of starting a “feed children in schools program”.  Children, schools, food… I was in.

My daughter, her youth group, my son, some of my graduate students,  and I took part in the first ever Numana packaging event in El Dorado, Kansas. Almost 4000 volunteers packaged more than 285,000 meals for Haiti that weekend. It was fun, exciting, and invigorating! What was unique about Numana’s effort to “empower people to save the starving” was the hands-on nature of their events. Volunteers rolled up their sleeves, donned plastic aprons, gloves and shower caps and mixed, packaged and prepared the food for shipment to Salvation Army schools in Haiti.  At tables of 12-14 volunteers, rice, soy, freeze dried vegetables, and a 21 vitamin/mineral tablet, a diet specifically designed for the metabolism of people who are starving, were measured into 6-serving bags, vacuum sealed, packed 36 to a box, and loaded on a truck, The truck would carry the food to Norfolk, Virginia, where it would be shipped by boat to Haiti. The food was expected to arrive in 6-8 weeks. Then the earthquake hit and the situation was so much more severe. Our food was airlifted in by the U.S. 82nd Airborne as some of the first food to reach Haiti following the earthquake.

Superbowl weekend, 2010, I hosted WSU Feeds Haiti, again with my daughter and a group of amazing students. Over 3000 volunteers packaged more than 641,000 meals that weekend. I continued to go to events, to offer my support, and in the first year, more than 125,000 volunteers nationwide packaged over 21 million meals at Numana events.

People want to do things that matter, that make a difference, just as I did.

Now my focus has expanded. After the Kansas Hunger Dialogue last March, I also want to understand hunger on the local level. I wanted to know if there’s a problem here on the WSU campus. I believe there is. Again, I brought together students, this time in a Health Communication Seminar, to understand the nature and scoop of hunger and food insecurity on our campus. The response has been phenomenal. Campus-wide support and interest has simply poured in.

On our website, http://wsuhunger.wordpress.com, you will be able to follow the journeys of each of the 8 students in our class. Our goal is to understand and to empower the change that is needed on our campus. This class is, for me, a way to teach what I practice, to use communication capacity, and skills, to empower others. Personally, it also keeps me on my journey to choose to do things that make a difference. I invite you to join us on this journey!

Day #3 of eating healthier this autumn

Ok, autumn is upon us and a group of Wichita folks on facebook have decided to support one another in getting fit, losing weight, whatever our health goals are. I’m planning another go at the raw food diet Alyssa and I started during Lent. I already know that with lunches out and timelines, going totally raw is not likely, but I’ll do my best. My backup is vegetarian. I’m also trying to avoid cow’s milk products and wheat products.  So, here’s my progress so far.

Here’s my progress so far.

Day #1: Excellent! I grazed throughout the day (a key idea in the reading I’m doing) on carrots, raw cashews, a banana and a LOT of water.

Day #2: Total fail! Ok, not a total fail. I had a banana in the a.m., then lunch at Mike’s Wine Dive in Wichita (If you haven’t been, you must. Everything I’ve tried is delicious). I had the salmon patty sandwich and a salad without dressing plus iced tea. Then for dinner at Piccadilly, a bierock and fatoush salad with a glass of red wine. My real downfall was the devil dog (chocolate heaven) in my fridge as a last hurrah before I began this adventure. I didn’t get around to eating it in advance and it just wouldn’t stop calling to me. Sooo, I ate it.

Day #3: A good day! I started with a banana and some peppermint water this morning, then a small cucumber salad with a touch of Italian dressing and parmesan cheese. Then I made a delicious butternut squash soup. I’m including the recipe below. It was heavenly.  1 serving of goraw Spicy Flax Snax I ate 1/2 of it and have the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Ok, so here’s the recipe for the butternut squash soup (562 calories total IF you use all the soup. I didn’t). It makes at least 2 nice sized servings (281 calories).

1 medium sized butternut squash peeled and slided (150 calories)
1 medium avocado (165 calories)
2/3 cup rice dream vanilla milk (87 calories)

1 packet of onion soup mix & 3 cups of water (160 calories – but most of it is not used)
Bring soup to a boil, add squash pieces and boil until soft

Drain:
In blender mix squash pieces, rice milk and avocado with 1/4 cup of soup broth and onion pieces from soup.
Blend until smooth.

YUM!!!!!!

Then I had a pear for a snack

I’m not doing South Beach Diet as some of my Wichitweep friends are, so I have no idea how this recipe might (or might not fit). I’m going for the mostly raw, vegetarian approach, no milk products, no wheat approach.

I plan to check in several times a week to mark my progress and even more often on the facebook site. All encouragement welcome! I’m looking forward to the support of my friends and supporting them as we take this healthy challenge together! Come join us!

Help with conversations on health care reform

Last week I was at the National Communication Association Convention in Chicago. As I rode the shuttle from one location to another, I overheard a gentleman pontificating about the “fact” that the overwhelming majority of Americans oppose health care reform. He continued in this vein the whole trip back. I sat there, struggling with myself.  One side of me said “It’s been a long day…This guy isn’t going to listen anyway… If he’s going to blatantly make up statistics that are totally contrary to the findings of actual polls with actual people, there’s no room for discussion….They’re not talking to you anyway and it would be rude to interrupt.”  The other side of me was saying “Seriously, if you don’t challenging these uninformed blowhards at every opportunity, people will accept what they say with such confidence even if it IS blatantly inaccurate”….”You’ve got the stats, call him on this!…. “Seriously, speak up!!!!!”  The tired side won out.

However, that means that you, dear readers, who may have found yourself in similar circumstances and chose not to speak might benefit from the attached powerpoint.  Tammy Allen, Lynn Stephan and I developed this for The Group in Wichita and thought we might share it here. Let us know what you think. Agree…. disagree…. whatever you think.  For us the critical issue is that we engage….which I regret to say I did NOT on the bus ride in Chicago.  

Wichita Photo Walk July 18, 2009

First of all, as a “relative” newcomer to Wichita, I can affirm that a photo walk is a GREAT way to explore an adopted city, especially if you take one early on a glorious summer morning. This morning was not to hot, not too cold, sunny, in short wonderful for photographing areas of interest. I do not profess to be the best photographer in the world, but I like to take pictures. I’ve taken a lot of art classes, so I tend to see things in angles and texture. I don’t always get what I see the first time, hence a few repeat photos. My favorites are the brock building reflected in the pond and the clock. Let me know which version you like best. Clearly all three ask the question “Does anybody really know what time it is?” but I’m undecided which does it most successfully. I also like the photo of the cupola upward, and those through the disintegrating awning, and finally the tree grate and the overpass. No idea of their real names. That’s my next task.  Enjoy and let me know what you think. Thanks to @WichitaCindy for info about the walk on twitter and facebook. It was an excellent adventure. See my pics at:  http://picasaweb.google.com/DBallardReisch/WichitaPhotoWalk?feat=directlink No, I haven’t retouched anything yet, just threw them up for fun. Enjoy!

Reflections on Mother’s Day and other holidays

I know, Mother’s Day was over a month ago and I should be asleep, but I’ve been reading blogs and decided there are some things I want to say about Mother’s Day and holidays in general.

First, I love being a Mom. I’ve told two of my Mommy stories in other venues.  This post will not be (completely) about that. It will be about THIS Mother’s Day and about holidays in general. In context, I’ve given birth to three children. My first son died at birth in August, 1984. He was three months premature. I can’t describe the devastation and pain of that loss. We were so close. I KNEW him; I felt him; we moved together and suddenly he was gone and I was alone. Abandoned. All my dreams and hopes, my most intimate connection, gone. My husband was amazing, wonderful, my partner through all the joy, hope, pain, loss. I was NOT… really… alone.

My second son, Stefan was born in May, 1988.  My pregnancy with him was scary, stressful. I didn’t trust my body. I didn’t trust doctors. I was fearful, anxious, on drugs that made me feel transparent. I was teaching full time until late at night. I was monitoring contractions with a Tokos belt twice a day for an hour. If I had too many contractions, I had to drink a lot of water, lay on my left side, wait another hour, monitor again, and then go to the hospital if I was still having contractions. I can’t remember how many times I ended up in the hospital for observation late at night being poked and prodded when all I wanted was sleep.

There’s a line in the movie Hook where one of the lost boys recognizes a grown Peter Pan and says “ah, there you are, Peter”. It was like that for me with Stefan, I looked at him and KNEW him “ah, there you are…”.  That knowledge has been a consistent part of our relationship.  We KNOW one another. We feel one another when we are apart. We KNOW on a deep level that we are both in the world. Our connection is transcendent. I admire Stefan’s presence in the world. He is talented and fearless. He is giving and loving. He makes others feel good. He also has my tendency to wonder at times (usually the most ridiculous times) if he is good enough. Some times he doubts. There is no need.

Two days shy of five years later, I gave birth to my daughter. I wanted her with an ache in the center of my being. My pregnancy with Alyssa was so different from my prior two. She and I were together in such a calm, comfortable way.  Everything went smoothly.  I was confident. I trusted my body. I KNEW nothing would go wrong. (Well, that’s true if I don’t count the five days between having an amniocentesis and getting the results. I’m a talisman person. I purchased a silver heart necklace that I wore constantly from the afternoon of the test until I got the results back. I still have that necklace. When she turned 14 I gave Alyssa a lucite heart to commemorate her having mine. Someday I’ll give her the silver one.)  When she was born Alyssa  made the most amazing cooing sound and my heart was hers. Our connection is different. She doesn’t feel me when we are apart. She is not confident that I am in the world with her wherever she goes. Our relationship is often contentious. I adore her! Though she lacks Stefan’s groundedness in the world, Alyssa is totally grounded in herself. She has a fierce sense of fairness and justice. She is a ferocious protector of those she loves and the most honest person I know. She is talented, gifted and capable of doing anything she sets her mind to. I look forward to the choices she will make.

For Mother’s Day, Stefan was in Reno finishing up the semester. Alyssa and I were here in Andover.  She made me a breakfast of cinnamon rolls and milk, then took me to Tanganyika Wildlife Park. We fed lemurs, petted pregnant red kangaroos, snuggled rabbits, petted a sugar glider (my family’s favorite creature – next to otters – but that’s a story for another time). We walked arm in arm and enjoyed the marvels we saw. Then we went to Freddy’s for burgers, then home, then to the Star Trek movie. We had the most incredible, engaged day. We were both fully present.

Alyssa’s mantra of the day was “It’s Mother’s Day”!. When her friends called to invite her to play soccer and eat pizza, she said “It’s Mother’s Day”. She was single mindedly committed to being with me the whole day and we had a marvelous time. Many people disparage holidays. “We should treat our loved ones with care every day”, they say. While this is true, holidays are special. They are reminders to take the time to show those we love that they are precious to us.  That is what Mother’s Day meant to me this year – time for my daughter and I to hang out to be together, to take the time.

This weekend is the 4th of July, another time we can take the time to gather with those we love. Again my son is in Reno (we’ll go there to see him perform next week) and my daughter and I are home in Andover. We’ll have a cookout with friends, play yard games, shoot off fireworks (we’ve never lived anywhere we could do this before – we love fireworks!) and revel in being together, being citizens of this amazing country, making memories, marking important moments, together. Holidays are important. In the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, they remind us to pause, to take the time, to be in the moment. Enjoy the holiday! Enjoy all the moments!

Darfur discussion

I wanted to add my thoughts to the ongoing conversation between Sierra Scott and Todd Ramsey regarding Sierra’s Darfur video.  First, I need to admit that I have not been to Darfur.  My thoughts come from my experiences in Russia, Central Asia, and regions of Africa.  I have taught judges throughout these regions and come to some conclusions about transparency, particularly with U.S. Americans.

From my perspective, I think it’s critical that any time we interact with other cultures, particularly in conflictual areas, we realize that our access is inherently limited. Those who invite us have agendas. We see what they wish us to see and even “open access” is suspect as we cannot know the threats those in authority have made to those with whom we are allowed contact. I saw this very strongly in my experiences in Zimbabwe. Two young female magistrates took me to a bazaar (an outdoor market) so that I could see how Zimbabweans really lived.  The whole afternoon I heard hissing wherever we went. The magistrates told me it was nothing. People were polite, solicitous, and friendly to me throughout the day. At the end of the day, the magistrates admitted that they were the target of the hissing, that because they were dressed in western clothes (jeans, t-shirts, baseball hats) the locals were letting them know of their displeasure. They told me that had I not been with them they would likely have been assaulted. I was shocked! My presence seemed a flimsy security. As I did further research when I returned home, I learned that women had been stripped, beaten, and chased through the streets in Harrare for wearing western dress.

So what is my point? Caution is critical in claiming “truth” in conflictual international situations. “This is my perspective”; “This was my experience” is simply a more prudent approach. I lived in Russia for a year and have visited many times. Never would I claim based on all the experiences I have had in that country or all the research that I have done to KNOW the truth of Russia.  There are too many complex reasons for people to tell me either what they think I want to hear, or what they want me to believe. A short fact-finding trip is simply not adequate to ascertain truth.

My final thought is that caution is necessary when one concludes that care about one region of the world negates concern for another region that is also experiencing atrocities. It is a straw-man argument to say “It’s worse over there, so why are you concerned about what is happening here”. Concern for one injustice does not negate or diminish another. To become a more humane world, we need voices speaking out about injustice and atrocities wherever they are found. I look forward to this continuing discussion.

I commend Sierra for her interest in returning to the areas of Darfur she was not able to visit the first time and for sharing her experiences.  I commend Todd and Hayley for their forthright questioning and willingness to indict truth claims with counterevidence.

I want my country back!

I feel I have lost my country and I am disheartened by this fact. If we do not live by our ideals we can no longer claim those ideals. When our country, founded on the belief that our government is supposed to be responsive to the citizenry, allows that government to make decisions that violate the constitution, that violate the rule of law, that violate the humane treatment of prisoners, I fear for the future of our nation.  When we violate the basic tenets of our legal system including the right to face accusers, the right to trial by a jury of our peers, the right to due process, we unravel the fabric of who we are as a nation. When we can say the behavior of our soldiers is too inflammatory to be seen by the general public, when we can’t try detained individuals in our legally constituted courts because our elected officials claim that our courts do not have the capacity to handle the charges, we unravel the fabric of who we are as a nation.  When we say our federal prisons which have housed terrorists for years suddenly are not safe to house convicted terrorists, we unravel the fabric of our nation.

These positions speak of patriarchy and fear. We, the people, do not know enough to make informed decisions, they say. Our elected officials need to protect us from uncomfortable truths and make decisions for us, they say. We should trust them and not ask questions, they say. It’s for our own good, they say. It’s for our standing in the world, they say. When these excuses are given, when these explanations for why we need to give up our constitutional rights are given, we, the people, need to reclaim our government. We need to vote in elected officials who remember what we stand for. I had hoped that we had done so by electing President Obama. Now I am not so hopeful.

We, the people, can deal with the errors in judgment made in our name by former administrations. We, the people, can deal with the fallout of those choices. What I fear that we, the people, cannot deal with is any more hiding, failing to take responsibility for our actions, and holding ourselves to a different standard than we expect from the rest of the world.

If we are the change we seek, we must seek change that elevates our nation, that elevates the rule of law, that elevates humanity. Yes, these are difficult times, but our ability to weather them will, in my humble opinion, be determined by the quality of our character and the example we set, areas in which we have been woefully lax in recent years.  I want my country back, a country based on life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I want my country back, a country based on justice, the rule of law, and due process. I want my country back!

Reflections on the candlelight vigil for Dr. Tiller in Wichita May 31, 2009

I know many people have written about Dr. Tiller’s murder. I know that his death will galvanize and polarize those who supported as well as those who disagreed with his beliefs and actions. I did not personally know Dr. Tiller, but I was compelled to attend the candlelight vigil last night.  I was impressed with the civil, thoughtful, compassionate assembly.  Those in attendance were kind to one another; members of Dr. Tiller’s church passed out candles and walked through the crowd of around 400 people relighting candles that were blown out by the wind.  Strangers stood side by side and shared their sadness, their determination for the future of women’s health, their fears for the future, and lit and relit one another’s candles.  People met and embraced friends who shared their sadness at this tragedy. I left when the singing began with a greater appreciation for Wichita. I appreciate both diversity and conviction. I keep being surprised by both here. I appreciate the careful, thoughtful way those who spoke talked about Dr. Tiller’s life and contributions to the community and to women’s health choices in general. I appreciate the courage of conviction and ability to look at the bigger picture of those who spoke.  It’s always easier not to make waves, to choose the safe, nonthreatening path.  Dr. Tiller lived for years consciously, publicly taking the most difficult of paths, living the courage of his convictions. I am saddened that such a tragedy occurred in my adopted city. I am heartened by those who attended and spoke at Dr. Tiller’s vigil.   In the face of a tragedy, Wichitans in Old Town last night pulled together in thoughtful compassion and proved that the actions of one man did not reflect the views of many. On balance, Wichita earned positive marks from me yesterday.

Thoughts on the loss of Laura and Jami

Today is my wonderful daughter’s 16th birthday. I am so blessed! Today it is one year to the day since her friend Laura killed herself. This is a message I wrote some months ago, but decided to wait to post until today, to acknowledge this anniversary, an event my daughter will remember every year, on her birthday. This is no easier and the answers are no clearer today than they were the day I wrote this. That said, the questions, the answers, are important! Jami and Laura are important!

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I sit here, on my porch listening to the rain.  I wonder.  What is the gap that makes it possible for two beautiful, talented, young women, with family and friends who loved them dearly, to choose to take their own lives.  What in their despair and pain makes it impossible for them to see past the hard moments that faced them, to see all the potential ahead, and to choose in that moment to end their lives?

What resources are we not building in ourselves, in one another, that we don’t realize the rain will stop; the light will shine through the clouds; we will be loved, nurtured, supported through the pain, through the bad times?

Laura, victim of violence, could not cope, could not see beyond, and a 15 year old life with so much potential was ended.

Jami, victim of someone else’s mental illness, of someone else’s short sighted thinking, could not see beyond the hurt, the unearned guilt, the unfair accusation, to find a way to cope with someone else’s choices, and so she made her own.

In despair, so focused inward they couldn’t see the end of their pain, they couldn’t see the web of connections they shared with others, they couldn’t see the love of those around them – both Laura and Jami chose to end their lives.

This act, suicide, has such lasting impacts on those left behind.  Whether intentional or not, it is an act of great cruelty that causes pain and damages those left behind.  Jami, you knew this and still you could not stay your hand.

How do we teach ourselves that sorrow, that guilt, that hurt are a part of life, that as the flip sides of joy, love, compassion, they provide opportunities for growth, for transcendence.  The guilt, pain, hurt, will end; they are transient, to be replaced by joy, love, compassion, to be replaced by more mistakes, all opportunities for growth.  What feels so hopeless and insurmountable today will pass.  We will look back; we will learn and grow from the past; we will be stronger, more resilient for having persevered.  So little in life is worth choosing death. 

As I watch my daughter, my son, in the aftermath of the devastating loss of their friends to suicide.  I know a few things.  I know that we must teach trust in connection.  I know that we must teach communication.  I know that isolation in pain can lead to a killing spiral.  Reaching out when in pain is difficult, but critically necessary for healing, sometimes for simply surviving.

Laura and Jami, I cry for you, for the loss of your potential, for the depth of your despair, for the desperation in your choices. I cry for all who loved you and are searching for meaning.  I hope that the tragedy of your choices will provide strength for those who loved you, strength in their connections to one another, strength in their common loss.