Who knows why, but I think about Dustin Hoffman every time I indulge in a cup of yogurt. Perhaps you’ve seen the movie Stranger Than Fiction, a delightful flick featuring Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, and of course, Dustin Hoffman. When I eat yogurt my mind immediately wanders to the scene where Hoffman eats a runny cup of  yogurt during a therapy session with Ferrell’s character Harold. I’m not sure if it’s the way Hoffman eats while he’s talking to Ferrell, or the fact that runny yogurt just grosses me out, but I can’t stop thinking about that specific moment anytime a drop of yogurt hits my mouth.

It’s weird. I know. But what fascinates me the most isn’t really the yogurt, it’s the way our minds work. Why do we remember these seemingly insignificant parts of our lives, yet inadvertently forget far more important moments? What daily acts trigger strange memories in you? I’d love to know.

Yogurt Scene starts at 6:16 of this clip:

I still had the opportunity to go to an excellent school because of my grandparents, but my life was obviously different than my schoolmates’. When asked, I told friends that I lived in my grandparents’ neighborhood, and I rarely invited anyone over for sleepovers. It seems silly now, but I was terrified of what people were going to think. So I pretended to be someone else.

It was an embarrassment then because I was a selfish child, unaware of the world and how bad things could be. Sure, I lived in a dangerous part of town and never once played outside, but I had advantages. I beat all the odds that said I would never amount to anything because I grew up in a poor single-parent home. To this day my mother still says, “You should be a statistic, but you’re not.”

I attribute most of my success to my family’s faith in God, but I understand if this means nothing to you. I also had a loving mother and grandparents who did everything they could to make sure I got a good education. And I did. I had the privilege of going to an excellent school, the other kids in my neighborhood did not.

As an adult, my childhood experiences have shaped my life in a number of ways. I’m not as selfish as a used to be, I have a soft heart for the downtrodden, but most importantly, my outlook on life is extremely different. Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful for my life. Pardon the cliche, but no matter how difficult things get, I’m quickly reminded that they could always be worse.

I’ve been thinking about my past a lot over the past few weeks and I think it has a lot to do with Chicago Now’s One Story Up, a blog about Chicago housing. This blog not only reminds me of my childhood, only a lot worse, it reminds me of the beat reporting I did in graduate school last year. I, too, reported on Chicago housing and development. Every day my heart broke listening to stories about gentrification, public housing and education. Every day I went home with a heart full of thanks that my hardships had only lasted 10 years and were not nearly as bad. Some people’s hardships last an entire lifetime.

If you’ve gotten this far down into my blog, thank you, but I’m sure you’re wondering where this story is going. So am I. I guess my point is this: we all come from somewhere. And sometimes that somewhere is a bad and awful place, but that doesn’t mean the rest of your life has to be that way. Look around you. Chances are, if you’re able to access the Internet and read this blog you’re better off than most. Start living that way.

Cabrini Green by TheeErin, Creative Commons License

View Chicago Festivals – June 2009 in a larger map

My good friend Cara (and DR roomie) just recently started a DR blog (carajanewelch.wordpress.com), which is the reason I’ve decided to drift down memory lane. Since her last blog post, I’ve been reflecting on my life here in the states, half wishing that I could be back in the DR with all those people who need help. I love where I am at right now, but it’s hard to see the good that I’m producing in a real, tangible way.

When I was working with Makarios, I got to see the faces of the children I worked with every day. I watched them get an education. I got to feed them. I got to love them. Those were tangible things. Here, I write a story, but I don’t know who reads it. I don’t know how it affects them. It’s hard for me to see the fruits of my labor. I want that instant gratification like I had in the DR.

However, I am blessed to be right where I am. And I know I’ve been called to this place. Life in the DR was extremely hard. No water. No AC. But more importantly, no family. It’s also extremely stressful and disheartening to witness such extreme poverty every day. Reading Cara’s blog about a young girl at our school who is now pregnant reminds me of that.

It’s tough to want to be in two places at once. But that’s life. The best I can do is recognize that life is full of cycles. Things can never last, or we’d never grow.

Firekites – AUTUMN STORY – chalk animation from Lucinda Schreiber on Vimeo.

Stir Sticks & Picks, International

Coffee Wholesalers USA

I suppose it’s a good thing both of these companies deal in other avenues. Picks are going places. Sticks—not so much. If I had my way, stir sticks would be abolished from all coffee shops. Long live the spoon.

Stir sticks are number two on my list “Things the world should be rid of.” Number one is Cilantro.

All of the presenters talked about using education to prevent further genocides and atrocities from happening again. Here are a few quotes from the day:

“Life is not made up of years, but of moments. Let every moment guide your conduct.” – Elie Wiesel

“Deeply in every person, the forces of light and darkness do battle. When the darker forces prevail, the capacity for evil rises. That must always be remembered and opposed” – former President Bill Clinton

“In a way, to remember is to survive, and we have to survive to remember” – Israeli President Shimon Peres in a special dedication video

As I was leaving the dedication, I saw a group neo-Nazi protesters standing on the corner waving Nazi flags as the dedication attendees drove past. I took a few photos as I waited for the light to change (see below) because I couldn’t believe what was happening. I saw one of the male protesters signal the Hitler salute to a car that pulled up next to him. And it was disturbing to see the American flag portrayed right next to the Nazi flag as if it’s a patriotic duty to hate.

After a few seconds of processing what I had just seen, especially after the moving ceremony, I just started to cry on my way home. Today’s protesters are only small representation of a much larger problem. We would like to think that our world has come a long way since Nazi Germany, but there is still so much hate in this world. And it is infecting humanity.

We see hate happen every day when we treat illegal immigrants with disrespect and contempt, or when we secretly mock an interracial couple. The list could go on. Although I am not guilty of the examples above, I have shown hate unknowingly in my own way when I’ve talked badly about someone behind their back or watched as someone I knew acted in a hateful manner and didn’t say anything.

Today’s events reminded me that humanity is capable of anything and it’s up to each one of us to prevent the spread of hate and anger, because life is so much more pleasant when it’s filled with love and peace.