Gone fishing

The time to relax is when you don’t have time for it.
– Sydney J. Harris, American journalist, Chicago Daily News and Chicago Sun-Times

Having hit the proverbial wall by doing too much in too little time and sacrificing sleep to accomplish my goals, I am partially taking David’s advice of letting go of my Wednesday posting. I’m giving myself permission to take the day off and not write, but still post pictures. Happy Wednesday! Take heed and be kind to yourself and give yourself permission to relax. As Lama Thubten Yeshe once said: “Be gentle first with yourself if you wish to be gentle with others.”

It may be spring, but it's still a little chilly. An all-black outfit is the perfect backdrop or a faux snake skin leather jacket from Urbanity (Berkeley, CA).

It may be spring, but it’s still a little chilly. An all-black outfit is the perfect backdrop for a faux snakeskin leather jacket from Urbanity (Berkeley, CA).

Go simple with accessories - Carmela Rose drop earrings and Tiffany ring for my 50th birthday from David.

Go simple with accessories – Carmela Rose drop earrings and Tiffany ring for my 50th birthday from David.

Faux snakeskin pattern can be overwhelming, so stick with an all-black outfit (simple knit dress, knit scarf, and tights), black booties with studs for added texture and interest, and simple silver jewelry.

Faux snakeskin pattern can be overwhelming, so stick with an all-black outfit (simple knit dress, knit scarf, and tights), black booties with studs for added texture and interest, and simple silver jewelry.

 

Peggy Liou and Tenny Tsai: A Tale of two big-hearted friends (Part II)

Shared joy is a double joy, shared sorrow is half a sorrow.
– Swedish proverb

Volunteerism: An Integral part of their lives
Peggy Liou, 58, attributes her volunteerism to Tenny Tsai, 59. “She is the biggest hearted person I have ever met,” she said, of her good friend. “Once you start it [volunteerism], that’s it; there’s no turning back.” Liou worked full time outside of the home, raised her son and daughter, now 31 and 23, respectively, but still found time to volunteer her time to charitable organizations. The key to volunteerism for multi-tasking mothers, and really, anybody, according to Liou, is to “surround yourself with friends who are into giving back. It makes it fun – like a friends and family event.” Tsai would often call Liou to volunteer, and Liou joked, “You can’t say no to Tenny.”

The family-formed walk group for the Alzheimer's Association's Walk to End Alzheimer's, October 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tenny Tsai)

The family-formed walk group for the Alzheimer’s Association’s Walk to End Alzheimer’s, October 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Liou’s daughter, Christina, who is Tsai’s goddaughter, recalled growing up participating in fundraising events that soon became annual family traditions. “It [volunteer work] was a part of our lives,” the elder Liou said. Every October, for example, the two families participate in the Self-Help for the Elderly‘s Golden Gate Walkathon and the Alzheimer’s Association’s Walk to End Alzheimer’s in San Francisco. The purpose of the walk is to raise people’s awareness and raise fund. In June, they attend the Self-Help for the Elderly’s annual Longevity Gala with family and friends, an annual event which raises between $400,000 and $500,000 to fund the nonprofit organization’s services. In the past, Liou has helped organize and provide the entertainment for the gala.

There are so many charitable organizations to support – from prevention and finding cures to diseases and environmental protection to elimination of hunger and homelessness locally, nationally, and globally – that choosing where to invest one’s time and energies can be daunting. The decision is made easy, according to Liou, when you choose “where your heart is.” In the last six years, since her daughter entered Stanford University, Liou became more involved in education for both the young and the elderly.

Self-Help for the Elderly fundraiser dinner: Tsai, Rosalyn Koo, Tsai's mother Tina, and Liou, June 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Self-Help for the Elderly fundraiser dinner: Tsai, Rosalyn Koo, Tsai’s mother Tina, and Liou, June 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Liou pointed out that the elderly rarely get much attention. Tsai, who was very close to her grandmother and was one of her main caregivers the last 10 years of her grandmother’s life, became passionate about issues around the elderly. Another good friend of hers introduced her to Self-Help for the Elderly when Tsai was asked to serve lunches to the elderly and drive the elderly participants for the walkathons. Gradually, Tsai became more involved and in a greater capacity. Around the time of her grandmother’s passing, Tsai was urged to join the board of the Alzheimer’s Association by a local committee member who said the organization needed an advocate who could speak on behalf of a more diverse community. Tsai served on the local board for seven years, following by eight years of service on the national board. Tsai’s passion and her commitment to the elderly were inherited by her daughter, Elisha Bonny, 29, Liou’s goddaughter, who is a nurse practitioner with a specialty in geriatrics.

Turning adversity into opportunity in order to give more
Just as Tsai’s life experiences informed her volunteerism, Liou’s triumph over breast cancer is leading her to new ways of giving. “Any harsh experience is a learning experience: I got cancer for a reason,” Liou said. Whereas last year’s goal was to recover and make three trips to China, her goal for this year is to “pick up a little more volunteer work” – as if she doesn’t have enough on her plate. Liou has been talking with cancer patients and is hoping to do more. She is especially keen to change the prevalent attitude among Asian patients who believe their cancer is a punishment from God for some transgression they had committed. “If I can share anything positive with people – that’s my calling,” she said.

After one of Liou's treatments, with Tsai and her son, Garrett, and Liou's daughter, Christina, 2011. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

After one of Liou’s treatments, with Tsai and her son, Garrett, and Liou’s daughter, Christina, 2011. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Tsai can relate to Liou’s gift of feeling blessed. When Tsai’s grandmother passed away, she felt a void, which is common among primary caregivers. Tsai recalled going to her grandmother’s bedroom and staring at her empty bed, wondering if her own life was finished. When she began volunteering with the Alzheimer’s Association – visiting with elderly people and comforting family members of the elderly, and then participating in policy development and supporting research for cures – her own grief was lessened. “It was also a way to lessen people’s burden,” she said.

Friends, family, and faith
When Liou met her oncology doctor for the first time, he told her he could tell on the first visit which cancer patients had better recovery and survival rates. Studies have shown that chances are greater when the patient was healthy before contracting cancer (that the patient didn’t have other health conditions prior) and how many family and friends accompany the patient to treatments and doctor visits. Faith, family, and friends have been fueling Liou’s recovery. The “three F’s,” as Liou calls them, have always played important roles in both Liou’s and Tsai’s lives.

The three families went on vacations together. Tsai and Liou at Lake Tahoe, 1983. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

The three families went on vacations together. Tsai and Liou at Lake Tahoe, 1983. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

At the high-tech company where they met back in 1979, Tsai and Liou had befriended a coworker, Paul Roth, and the three formed a strong bond and friendship, which resulted in the three families taking vacations together. On walks at work, Tsai and Liou became the eyes for Roth, who had lost his sight at the age of 28 in a chemistry lab accident, by describing the physical world around them. At the same time, Roth helped them “see life more in-depth,” according to Tsai. Liou agreed, adding, “We helped him see with our eyes, but he helped us to see with the heart, to see things differently.” When Tsai and Liou came to Roth with their problems, he listened to them without passing judgment and in doing so helped them resolve their own issues through talking it out.

When Roth passed away in 2005, a small foundation was set up, and every year the Roth and Tsai children determine which organization will receive the donation. “It is a wonderful way for them to learn how to work together for a good cause,” Tsai said. The three families come together every year on the day of Roth’s passing, though Tsai points out that they celebrate his life by continuing to be involved with each other’s lives. Tsai and Liou have attended Roth’s two daughters’ and their children’s births, baptisms, and birthday parties, and the three families are planning a trip to Switzerland, Roth’s homeland, in 2014.

Faith intervened to preserve the two women’s friendship when Liou was first diagnosed and they clashed over what kind of treatment and which hospital to choose. With her college degree in clinical science and her understanding of the severity of the diagnosis, Tsai believed her friend should participate in clinical trials at the University of California at San Francisco. Liou, however, didn’t want to travel to San Francisco from her home in Los Altos, even though Tsai offered to drive her for every treatment, and instead opted for chemotherapy at El Camino Hospital. When Tsai found out, she cried, believing she was going to lose her friend. While Tsai admitted to being stubborn, Liou pointed out that Tsai merely wanted the best care for her good friend.

A smiling Liou after her second treatment, 2011. (Photo by Dee Lee)

A smiling Liou after her second treatment, 2011. (Photo by Dee Lee)

Unhappy with the decision, Tsai nevertheless accompanied Liou to her first round of chemotherapy. Tsai offered a prayer before treatment, holding hands with Liou’s husband, Leo, and daughter, Christina. When Tsai concluded the prayer, Liou’s oncology nurse responded behind them, saying, “I love Jesus, too.” Her response was a spiritual confirmation for Tsai, who said, of that moment, “I surrendered my will to God, and I realized our friendship really took me to a different level that I have to trust.” Tsai had to trust God and love Peggy, and in doing so, she had to trust her friend’s decision and let her live her own life. “If I love her and care for her, I have to totally accept that, whether I like it or not,” she said. Tsai believed that this trial strengthened their friendship and made Liou’s journey not just a medical journey but a spiritual journey.

“It’s a humbling experience,” Liou said, of all the prayers that family and friends offered on her behalf, and even the prayers of people she didn’t know from Tsai’s prayer group. Despite the difficult time, Tsai said, “There was a lot of joy around us.” Liou said she could feel the strength and the power of prayer that was offered before the “poison” was put into her body during treatments. “I could feel the energy,” Liou said. “God’s grace is there, ready for us to draw from,” Tsai said, though oftentimes it is blunted by human will and wisdom when it comes to wanting to make our own decisions. Tsai came to realize that the type of treatment or hospital didn’t really matter in the end; what mattered was trusting in God to take care of her good friend.

Looking forward to the future
Liou is currently fundraising for the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life and volunteering her time at the American Cancer Society’s Discovery Shop (243 Main Street, Los Altos, CA 94022, 650. 949.0505). When Liou was undergoing treatment, Ruth Jeng, board chairperson and founder of PEACH Foundation, realized that “time doesn’t wait for anyone” and that she needed to do more so long as she was healthy. Acting on that revelation, in addition to the Chinese adage of “do good deeds” and the cultural responsibility of taking care of family, Jeng increased the quota for sponsorships from 400 students to 600 students in 2012 and raised 2013’s goal to 900 students. Liou worried about how the additional students would get funded, and then a sponsor from Taiwan, where an equivalent organization also operates, emerged. While Liou called it “a miracle,” she said, “It also confirms our belief in ‘just do it’ attitude.”

Alzheimer's Association's End Alzheimer's Walk in San Francisco: Elisha Bonny (Tsai's daughter), Tsai, Liou, and Christina (Liou's daughter), carrying photos of Tsai's grandmother, who died from Alzheimer's disease, October 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Alzheimer’s Association’s End Alzheimer’s Walk in San Francisco: Elisha Bonny (Tsai’s daughter), Tsai, Liou, and Christina (Liou’s daughter), carrying photos of Tsai’s grandmother, who died from Alzheimer’s disease, October 2012. (Photo courtesy of Tsai)

Tsai, who turns 60 this year, has been pondering her “second life.” Tsai sees her profession as a commercial real estate broker not as a series of business transactions but as a ministry. She is currently searching for a daycare for a church that wants to provide this service to families in need. She continues to work with the elderly, ensuring that their dignity and quality of life remain intact. She finds the greatest satisfaction with one-on-one visits with the elderly, helping them through the last stage of their lives. Tsai tries to spend as much time with her parents, children, and friends, trying to carry out her maxim: “Live like there’s no tomorrow.” Sometimes, Tsai admits, she can be accused of doing too much – juggling career, family commitments, and volunteerism. That said, she is merely living out her philosophy of “do[ing] everything today.”

Tsai experienced a revelation after one of her high school friends recently died of ovarian cancer. Tsai’s visits over the duration of 10 months didn’t change the outcome. What changed, however, was making her friend’s life as well as her own life “more bearable” during those visits. It was difficult for Tsai to watch her friend suffer and to let her go. Despite the physical pain, Tsai’s friend found great comfort in their friendship and in having Tsai be there with her. “If I can be the little buffer or little agent to be there, other people make my life more acceptable,” Tsai said. “That’s what it’s all about.”

Back in July 2012, when Tsai was looking at the PEACH Foundation kids, she wondered how she was giving them hope. “It’s not the one hundred fifty dollars or two hundred fifty dollars a year,” she concluded. “It’s the touch you gave the kids, the hug, and you being there. That’s the crucial word – that you’re being there for them.” At the many crossroads in their lives, Tsai and Liou have been there for one another, holding one another’s hand, listening to each other’s problems and in their listening helping them sort out the issues and resolve the problems themselves. “That,” Tsai concluded, as Liou nodded and smiled, “is what a good friend is all about.”

Liou and Tsai in Los Altos, February 2013.

Liou and Tsai in Los Altos, February 2013.

Peggy Liou and Tenny Tsai: A Tale of two big-hearted friends (Part I)

It is prosperity that gives us friends, adversity that proves them.
– proverb

Peggy Liou and Tenny Tsai, in Los Altos, February 2013.

Peggy Liou and Tenny Tsai, in Los Altos, February 2013.

When Peggy Liou, 58, was diagnosed with Stage III, Triple-Negative Breast Cancer in December 2010, her friend Tenny Tsai, 59, accompanied her to nine of her 10 rounds of chemotherapy the following year. [The only round Tsai missed conflicted with her son’s graduation.] During her treatment, Tsai promised that she would accompany Liou to China on a volunteer mission once Liou recovered. In July 2012, the two close friends, who met as programmers for a Silicon Valley company in 1979, traveled to a poor, mountainous region in China, where Tsai encountered what she called a “life-changing” experience and Liou returned to the children who, she says passionately, needed her – and whom she needed.

‘Walking the walk’
Since 2001, Liou has been involved with the PEACH Foundation U.S.A., which stands for Promoting Education, Arts and Community Harvest. The Foster City, CA-based nonprofit organization’s main project is to help children from the poorer regions of China stay in school. In China, education is free up until middle school. Finishing middle school is a challenge for students in remote regions, however, because their families can’t afford the room and board. The PEACH Foundation sponsors economically disadvantaged students, but they have to be motivated to stay in school, Liou explained. Thus, students nominated by the local middle schools must be among the top 20 in their class. Sponsors donate 125 USD for middle school students and 250 USD for high school students. A sponsor for 10 years, Liou became more involved in 2006 – “walking the walk,” as she refers to it – by traveling to China three times a year to conduct interviews and home and school visits.

Volunteer teachers for the first session of the PEACH summer camp in Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Peggy Liou)

Volunteer teachers for the first session of the PEACH summer camp in Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Peggy Liou)

“We don’t just give them the money; we care about the kids,” Liou said, which distinguishes the PEACH Foundation from other organizations. Every summer, the foundation sends volunteers to China to teach in summer camps. “The purpose of the camp is to care for those kids,” she said, which includes developing self-esteem, something the children lack because of the stigma of their socio-economic standing. Liou, who translates the children’s autobiographies from Chinese to English to post on the organization’s website, said that many of their stories “break your heart.”

Liou and her students at the PEACH summer camp, Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Liou)

Liou and her students at the PEACH summer camp, Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Liou)

Liou recently translated the story of a girl who had started school at the age of seven but quit at age nine at her parents’ request when her father became very ill. While her mother took care of her father and the household, she was responsible for taking care of the family cow, which meant taking it to the mountains, even in inclement weather. “I couldn’t help but cry when I saw other children attending school because I wanted to go back to school so badly,” the girl had written. Within a span of four years, her father was hospitalized and underwent two surgeries. When her father’s health improved, he told her she could return to school, but she thought it was “too late” and that people would laugh at her for going back to third grade at the age of 13. She came to realize, however, that if she didn’t go back now she would never have that chance again. On her first day of school, she wrote how excited she was to return and resume her education. The girl, whom Liou called “brave,” is now in the ninth grade.

Changing lives and being changed
Students who are accepted attend a new student orientation in the summer, which is run by up to 40 volunteers from the U.S. and Taiwan per section, with 400 students in each section. The orientation packs English and Chinese language lessons, music, and other activities into nine-hour days. Tsai had been a sponsor for the PEACH Foundation for four years, but eschewed volunteering for the summer camps because it wasn’t her “cup of tea.” Although Liou had asked Tsai to join her a few times in the past, Liou noted that it was Tsai’s over-commitment to other volunteer activities that kept Tsai from going.

Teachers and parents mold their students for years and their children for a lifetime, respectively, Tsai said, but after the 10-day camp, volunteers come away having changed somebody’s life – as well as their own. “You build a relationship with them,” she said. While volunteers can’t solve the children’s life problems, Tsai pointed out that these children, who often have never had people care about them, experience the generosity of strangers who have come into and made a difference in their lives.

Tsai teaching her students at the PEACH summer camp, Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Liou)

Tsai teaching her students at the PEACH summer camp, Yunnan, China, July 2012. (Photo courtesy of Liou)

For Tsai, the experience also made her realize the tremendous scope and amount of work that Liou had accomplished in the last 10 years with the organization. “I was speechless,” she said. She also witnessed the tenacity and passion of her good friend when Liou badgered her doctors after each round of chemotherapy, wanting to know when she could return to the mountains of China. At first, Tsai was frustrated with Liou because they had discussed going to Europe when she recovered. With her lymph nodes removed as part of the treatment, Liou was advised against traveling and being in high elevations, but still she persisted. “Somebody else is up there!” Tsai scolded Liou, referring to other volunteers running the camp.

Tsai grew to understand and appreciate the bond Liou had developed with the children she knew and those she had yet to know. “It was almost the purpose, her goal for living,” Tsai said. In 2012, Liou participated in a cancer support group as she fought to recover. For her type of cancer, the recovery rate is two years and the survival rate is 50/50. “I’m the lucky 50 because I have a reason to live,” she said. “I have a mission waiting for me to do. I have kids who need me. They keep me going.” Liou said that the kids at the foundation saved her life, which motivated her to get well. “I have to do it; I have to go see them,” she added.

Liou spent 2012 recovering from her treatment and learning how to take care of herself and preparing herself for when – not if – the cancer comes back. “I’ve come alive again,” she said. When she wakes up every morning, Liou says she is grateful: “I learned how to live as if each day is a blessing.”

Editor’s note: Part II will be posted on Monday, March 25th.

Liou after her second round of chemotherapy, February 2011. (Photo by Dee Lee)

Liou after her second round of chemotherapy, February 2011. (Photo by Dee Lee)

Celebrating the Monday Moms

If you aren’t nurturing your self, what kind of mother can you be, anyway?
– Sandra Scofield, American novelist and essayist

When I was pregnant with my son in the spring of 2000, David and I signed up for a birthing class. We thought we were all set until a good friend of mine asked me if we were going to have a doula present for the birth. At the time, I had no idea what a doula was, let alone how to spell it, but instead of admitting ignorance I told my friend that we had decided against having a doula. And then when I went home after our lunch date, I quickly looked up the definition for doula, which is a labor coach. As all pregnant women discover, you are quickly inundated with both solicited and unsolicited advice. Natural birth/no drugs versus epidural, home versus hospital birth, vaginal versus Caesarean section delivery, disposable versus cloth diapers, bottle versus no bottle, mom’s milk versus formula, and the list goes on.

Six of us get together in the summer of 2003.

Six of us get together in the summer of 2003.

One piece of advice I took that I am still benefiting from is joining a mom’s group. In response to her experience as a first-time mother, Sherry Reinhardt founded Support Groups for Mothers in Berkeley in the late 1970s. As you prepare to welcome your new baby into the world, nobody tells you about the enormous life changes that leave you overwhelmed and isolated. You’re supposed to be overwhelmed with joy, not with exhaustion, uncertainty and ambivalence, and even sadness. I recalled a conversation I had with one of the moms, Stephanie, in my birthing class who was the first one in the group to deliver. We had been parked in our gliders, nursing our sons for what seemed like an eternity. My uniform of t-shirts and sweatpants never changed. We needed to get out of the house, and so we signed up for one of Sherry’s support groups.

Celebrating 10 years of the Monday Moms in 2010.

Celebrating 10 years of the Monday Moms in 2010.

We met at Sherry’s house for an hour, once a week on Monday afternoons for eight weeks. There were 10 of us. I remembered feeling intimidated – both by Sherry and some of the other moms, who had strong personalities and opinions to match. We talked through nursing issues, differed on vaccinations, and anguished over trying to get our babies to sleep through the night. One of the most ferocious fights David and I ever had was when I had to miserably listen to my son wail for what seemed like hours while David kept me from dashing out of bed and down the hallway to the nursery to rescue him. After three nights, my son began sleeping through the night. When our eight weeks were up, Sherry encouraged us to continue to get together regularly.

After a Sunday breakfast at Fat Apple's in Berkeley, December 2012.

After a Sunday breakfast at Fat Apple’s in Berkeley, December 2012.

And we did. We called ourselves the Monday Moms, though we met on a different day and took turns hosting the meetings each week. We created an eGroups account for group messages. We had potlucks for the entire families. The more adventurous and proactive in the group set up various activities such as trips to the Lawrence Hall of Science, the El Cerrito community pool, and Lake Anza. We swapped babysitting, so couples could go out to dinner without having to pay for a babysitter. We shared advice on daycare and preschools as some of us returned to full-time jobs outside of the house. We welcomed siblings into the mix.

Ready for Sunday breakfast with the Monday Moms, March 2013.

Ready for Sunday breakfast with the Monday Moms, March 2013.

When our kids entered kindergarten, we took a parenting support class with a licensed professional on Thursday evenings for six weeks. It was a huge change for the kids and us, and we had plenty to talk about in that class. I remember being very frustrated that my very well-behaved son was getting accolades in his kindergarten class but at home was throwing tantrums at will. Our facilitator explained that kids want to do well in their new, very structured surroundings because it’s expected of them. When they come home, however, they fall apart because they’ve expended their energy keeping it together all day. More importantly, they feel secure enough to act out, knowing that we love them unconditionally. While it was still difficult to deal with my son’s tantrums for the next few months, understanding the situation brought greater patience.

The horse t-shirt gets a polished look with a lace skirt, heeled booties, and a textured handbag.

The horse t-shirt gets a polished look with a lace skirt, heeled booties, and a textured handbag.

Along the way, we began to lose members of our tribe. After the first year, Marsha left. Her husband was on leave from his academic position at Brown University, so we knew they would be gone by the end of the year. It wasn’t a surprise, and yet it was still jarring to be minus one mom. And then Michelle moved to Colorado after finishing her doctoral program in developmental psychology and founded her own company based on a signing program for young children. Kate and her family moved to upstate New York, where their kids would be closer to both sets of grandparents. There were leaves of absences throughout the last 13 years – Fiona to New Jersey when her husband taught at Princeton for a year, Renu to India for a year where her husband’s company had a large office, and Sandy currently in Hong Kong for a second year where she’s teaching at an international school.

In 2010, we celebrated our first children’s 10th birthdays. We are entering our 13th year together, dealing with middle school, adolescence, assertions of independence. We’ve tried to meet monthly a few times the last several years – searching for that ideal day and time. The irony is that Marsha, whose in-laws live in Berkeley, is the person who gets us together when her family visits during the winter holidays and in the summer. We are trying again.

Carmela Rose vintage Lucite honeycomb earrings, vintage bracelet, Sundance stackable rings, and In God We Trust (NYC) ring.

Carmela Rose vintage Lucite honeycomb earrings, vintage bracelet, Sundance stackable rings, and In God We Trust (NYC) ring.

The thing about a mom’s groups is that you don’t choose who is in your group. It’s based on when your child is born, as it makes more sense to deal with developmental issues when the kids are the same age. We all have vastly different lives, live in different cities and our kids go to different schools, and our personalities and temperaments are varied. We started out as strangers having one thing in common – our first babies. Thirteen years later, I marvel at the bond we have formed, given the fact that we likely would not have gravitated to one another. Through the years, we have comforted one another over the deaths of our parents and our in-laws, and supported one of our moms who triumphed over cancer. The last time we got together, two Sunday mornings ago, instead of a free-for-all discussion, Mimi asked that we go around the table for a check-in, which was nice. It helped us to focus on one another and offer solicited advice. We are rapidly approaching those milestones – graduating to high school, graduating from high school, moving away to college. As scary as they are, there is a certain comfort in knowing that we have known each other since our kids were babies. That even as our kids have become less familiar with each other in the group and are growing up and onwards, we are still the Monday Moms.

Mixing textures again: horse t-shirt and lace skirt (Anthropologie), black booties, and Kate Spade textured handbag (Urbanity).

Mixing textures again: horse t-shirt and lace skirt (Anthropologie), black booties, and Kate Spade textured handbag (Urbanity).

Making A Place at the Table for everyone

The one who moves a mountain, begins with removing small stones.
– Chinese proverb

My father lived through the Great Depression and in many ways he never outgrew some of the habits he had developed out of necessity during those lean years. He saved everything – repurposing envelopes from solicitations that came in the mail, washing and reusing Ziploc bags until they no longer closed, turning scraps of paper into scratch paper, and straining old cooking oil to use for frying the next meal, just to name a few things. He never wasted anything, especially food. Any leftover food on our plate, if we couldn’t be forced to finish it or didn’t push it off onto our father’s plate without my mother seeing, was fed to the dogs. My father tended a huge vegetable garden behind our house, and what vegetables he couldn’t fit in the freezer he gave away to relatives and friends in the neighborhood. My mother, her family, and her community in the mountainous Baguio City endured food shortages during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, and one of my mother’s siblings died of malnutrition during World War II.

I took a lot of photos of my father in his garden while taking a photography class in 1982.

I took a lot of photos of my father in his garden while taking a photography class in 1982.

My sisters and I got it from both sides – you will not waste food. Period. Their habits were ingrained in us. Except for reusing old oil, I picked up a lot of my father’s Depression-era practices. I really hate to throw out spoilt food (I should say that I hate letting food get to that state), regardless of the fact that we can now compost all food materials, not just vegetables and fruit. Trying to teach my kids to be grateful for the food on the table is difficult when they have never had to go without food, shelter, or clothing – and as parents, that is our goal. That is what my parents strove for – having their children never wanting for the basics. It reminded me of a post-interview conversation I had with a Latino executive for a SHPE Magazine (Society for Hispanic Professional Engineers) freelance assignment. He had related his experiences of being the only Latino in his first job at a corporation, save for the janitor who was cleaning the offices at night. He and his generation paved the way, faced all these obstacles, so that their children would not have to experience discrimination. The paradox that the first-generation immigrants inadvertently create, however, is that their children are far removed from and therefore cannot fully appreciate the struggles and the barriers that their parents and/or their grandparents endured and tore down, respectively.

Celebrating finishing the AIDS Walk in San Francisco, 1992.

Celebrating finishing the AIDS Walk in San Francisco, 1992.

Being thankful every meal
One tradition that we engage in before eating our dinner as a family is to acknowledge the cook, thanking mom or dad for making the meal. Now that they are both going through growth spurts, they are hungrier leading up to dinnertime and ask me every evening when I’m preparing the meal: “What’s for dinner?” Oftentimes, they are excited, telling me how much they love that dish, although my daughter is very finicky about her food. Lately, I feel as if they truly appreciate the fact that they eat flavorful, home-cooked meals and that we eat as a family about 95 percent of the time. That said, I still feel as if I could do more to drive home the point. (My idea of having my family serve Thanksgiving dinner to families in need has to wait until my daughter turns 12 in order to participate, according to a local food bank.)

A Place at the Table
Reading the Sunday paper two weekends ago, I came across an interview with Top Chef Judge (and Chef and owner of Craft restaurant in New York) Tom Colicchio, whose wife had co-produced and co-directed A Place at the Table, a documentary on hunger in America. The film was opening in Berkeley for one week only, and its engagement across the country is limited. I immediately knew what we as a family were going to be doing that Friday evening, so right after my son’s batting practice we hightailed it to the movie theater for the premiere. I was disappointed that there were no lines to see the show (we were at the second of three showings that night) and that the theater was maybe a fifth full, though the review in the Chronicle had just come out that morning.

I already knew many of the stats that the film presented. The already wealthy agribusiness industry reaps millions of dollars of subsidies for growing corn, soy, wheat, rice, and cotton, while social programs such as Women, Infant and Children (WIC) are vilified for being “welfare handouts.” The overabundance of corn and soy, which are found in most processed foods, make those packaged foods cheaper than healthful vegetables and fruit. This has created the paradox of obesity and hunger being prevalent in lower socio-economic communities. It reminded me of a conversation I had with my son two years ago as I drove him to his weekly physical therapy session at Children’s Hospital in Oakland. At a stoplight in one of the neighborhoods where a handful of men were hanging out in front of a convenience store, he stared out his window and asked me why poor people were fat, with the subtext being if they don’t have money to buy food they should be skinny. It was, as they say, a teachable moment for the both of us. I told him that poverty and obesity are complex issues but that they are inextricably linked, thanks to the prevalence of processed, packaged foods and the unavailability of healthful foods – either because the local stores simply don’t sell them or they are too expensive to buy.

The film addresses this issue time and again. In one particularly poignant scene, a fifth-grade teacher in a rural community in Colorado delivers bags of groceries from a food bank to families. As a child, she had experienced hunger or “food insecurity” – coined in 1996 by the World Health Organization and defined by the U.S. Department of Agriculture as the state in which nutritious, safe food is unavailable or inaccessible. The teacher nonetheless struggles with the dilemma – and irony – of handing out food that, for the most part, is processed and therefore full of the bad kind of carbohydrates – starches and refined sugar. Her resolution: Processed food is better than no food.

My old company, Miller Freeman, participating in Christmas in April (now called Rebuilding Together SF) by fixing up a Bayview Hunters Point neighborhood home, 1993. That's me in the lighter blue baseball cap.

My old company, Miller Freeman, participating in Christmas in April (now called Rebuilding Together SF) by fixing up a Bayview Hunters Point neighborhood home, 1993. That’s me in the lighter blue baseball cap.

As I mentioned, many of the facts were well known to me. A few, however, were not, such as the behind-the-scenes negotiations for the Healthy Start Act, which was introduced to increase access to and participation in the School Breakfast Program when Congress was in the process of reauthorizing the Child Nutrition Act. The National School Lunch Program is supported by the purchase of USDA commodities, which explains the kinds of food we parents see coming out of the school cafeterias – even my kids have no desire to eat school lunches. The nickel and diming of the so-called bipartisan legislation ended up amounting to something in the range of six cents extra per child. The documentary shows the triumphant authors of the bill, supported by kids waving plastic school lunch trays, hailing the new legislation and pointing out that no new taxes were implemented to fund the program. What you don’t know, and what is ubiquitous in all pieces of legislation in terms of funding, is that the six extra cents came at the expense of cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, which was formerly the food stamp program. It’s another instance of irony in the film and a typical Congressional act of “robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

I also didn’t know that Actor Jeff Bridges had founded an organization called End Hunger Network back in 1986 and has been working tirelessly with this issue since then. In the documentary, he declared, “If another country was doing this to our kids, we’d be at war.” Indeed. Bridges, as were many of the people interviewed, were passionate and well spoken, including the many faces of those living with food insecurity on a daily basis, but the person who really made an impact on me was a young single mother of two from Philadelphia named Barbie Izquierdo.

She brought up the well-known research on the benefits of families eating dinner together on a regular basis – kids do well in school and are less likely to be involved in substance abuse. The irony for her was that while she could sit at the table with her kids, there was no food on the table. She said, “I feel like America has this huge stigma of how families are supposed to eat together at a table, but they don’t talk about what it takes to get you there. Or what’s there when you’re actually at the table.” When she gets a job after a year of unemployment – working for a hunger coalition group – you rejoice with her, as she describes feeling important, visible, and literally having a spring in her step as a result of finally becoming employed. And then three months later, we find that she makes too much money to qualify for SNAP, and her kids are deprived of breakfast and lunch on a daily basis.

Feeding our kids should not be a bipartisan issue. As one federal official said in his testimony to a Congressional subcommittee, only one-quarter of young adults aged 19 to 24 are physically fit to join the military, which is a national security risk in the making and an issue that should compel hawks to address hunger and obesity in this country. Children who are deprived of food even for a short period of time during their early years are at risk for cognitive impairment and face a higher risk of myriad emotional and physical ailments, which ultimately impacts the ability of nation to be a global leader. The cost of hunger and food insecurity to the U.S. economy is $167 billion per year. What is infuriating and yet what provides great hope is that hunger is curable. It happened in the 1970s through federal programs, and we have the means to eradicate it today.

Captain (wearing the red t-shirt) of our company's Christmas in April crew in 1994.

Captain (wearing the red t-shirt) of our company’s Christmas in April crew in 1994.

As the film was winding down and I wondered how it would end – hopeful or depressing – at first I thought there’s no real silver bullet save for an overhaul of federal policy and legislation and an overhaul of our national perception of poverty. Those who want less government want faith-based and other organizations in the community to take up the cross, so helping local food banks seemed to be playing into that philosophy. Disrupting and changing policy seems insurmountable. I ended up being hopeful. As a spokesperson for the Witness to Hunger program, Barbie gave a speech that fittingly ended the film. The program, which provides a platform for low-income women to tell their stories, was founded by Mariana Chilton, a professor of public health at Drexel University. I found Barbie’s speech while researching the film for my blog, and I present it here:

“‘You are where you come from.’ It is a quote that is said very often, if your mother was a single mother you will be a single mother. If no one in your family was a high school graduate you will be the next one to follow in those footsteps. Have you ever been surrounded by the people you love, like your children, but feel completely alone? Have you ever been in a home with open doors but feel trapped? Have you ever been in a neighborhood with constant yelling, screaming, gunshots and fighting, but are so accustomed to it that it puts you to sleep? I know what it’s like to have your children look at you in your eyes and tell you that they’re hungry and you have to try to force them to go to sleep as if they did something wrong.

Take time and learn a little from each of us because you never know where tomorrow can take you. Remember us. Remember people like us that are here in the United States that need help that are not receiving it adequately. If we switched lives for a week could you handle the stress? If we switched salaries for a month will you be able to live and still keep your pride? Are you aware of my hope and my determination? Are you aware of my dreams and my struggle? Are you aware of my ambition and motivation? Are you aware that I exist? My name is Barbara Izquierdo and I do exist.”

Celebrating the end of the 60-mile Tour de Cure ride along the rolling hills of Napa with friends, David, and my cousin, Janet, May 1997.

Celebrating the end of the 60-mile Tour de Cure ride along the rolling hills of Napa with friends, David, and my cousin, Janet, May 1997.

A Call to action
When the film credits rolled, I turned to my daughter, whose eyes were glassy and red. The film made her feel sad. I told her it was an opportunity to feel empowered and a call to action. When we got home and the kids went to bed, I looked up what we, as individuals, families, and communities can do, and there are a lot of things to do. A Place at the Table’s website leads people to many avenues of activism. At the grassroots level, we can look to Ample Harvest‘s core mission of leaving no food behind. Ample Harvest connects home and community gardeners with local food pantries, so extra harvests can be donated and consumed, rather than thrown away or used as compost.

Share Our Strength‘s Bake Sale for No Kid Hungry is a project to help individuals, companies, and organizations to host bake sales in their communities, with the proceeds going towards ending childhood hunger. Share Our Strength’s No Kid Hungry 2 Action Center is an online resource center geared for young people who want to address childhood hunger issues in their communities. The center provides tools to help young people, parents, and teachers to lead volunteer and advocacy efforts to raise awareness and find solutions.

At lunch the next day, we talked about what we could do in our schools and communities. I can’t say that my kids will run with any of my suggestions or theirs – my daughter wants to grow a garden and share the produce – once the passion runs its course and we get back on that hamster wheel that defines our daily lives. But I feel as if we have already started down that path of understanding, which is the necessary foundation for action. Part of living the creative life, and part of being a writer, is to try to understand the human condition and to uplift it with the gifts that were given to us and to do so in the best way that we can.

Get involved, however small or big, with an open heart.

Getting involved in school: Setting up and then chairing my kids' after-school enrichment program, which brought chess, flamenco, gardening, guitar, Shakespeare for Kids, and junior detective and archeologist classes to our kids.

Getting involved in school: setting up and then chairing the after-school enrichment program at my kids’ elementary school (2005-2012). The program brought chess, flamenco, gardening, guitar, Shakespeare for Kids, and junior detective, and archeologist classes, among other classes to our kids.

Catching my breath, dangling carrots, and music therapy

If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal. Not to people or things.
– Albert Einstein, German-born theoretical physicist

Do you ever get so exhausted that it’s a struggle to breathe? This has been my current state since returning home from traveling. Around November through February is the busy season workwise for me, although David would probably argue that it’s the chaotic, sleepless season and the rest of the year is busy. It is the time of bouncing around from multiple deadlines to another round of multiple deadlines, only this season travel has been added to the mix. As fun and exciting as the travel has been, it takes a toll, especially when you’re older.

It's still winter, but creamy colors and flowers present the promise of spring.

It’s still winter, but creamy colors and flowers present the promise of spring.

As is usually the case, those four months are a complete blur to me every year. I come out of it in early March, wondering what happened to the beginning of the year. And then reality hits: Oh, right, I worked a lot, slept little. This time around, however, I didn’t want to come out on the other side, thankful that I survived, giving up those months so easily. The older you get, the harder it is to blithely not care, concede, and move on. The days seem to matter more.

Rightly or wrongly, I have found that the main reason I don’t sit down and read a novel, like I used to do not too many years ago, is that I feel as if I can’t sit still. It’s too luxurious. There are too many things within 20 feet of me that need to be taken care of. The library chair we got when we moved back into our house merely holds the stack of documents or magazines or Christmas letters from the past two years that I promised to respond to. I count only once the time when I reclined on the stuffed leather library chair and ottoman and worked on my novel and once when I read fiction. I tell myself that I should be multi-tasking. I am constantly in a race against time. One of these days soon, I will put reading a novel or book of short stories on my weekly list of things to do; only then will it be part of my routine and something I can do without feeling guilty. Writers need to read just as much as they write. That ought to be reason enough.

The fabulous 1914 globe watch with optical lens and keys that I got in Seattle earlier in February.

The 1914 globe watch with optical lens and keys that I got in Seattle.

This year was going to be different, I told myself. This season I made a pledge to myself. I was going to make sure I am doing something that is me-centered, something that makes me happy. That something is different for everybody. For me, it means I go to sleep at night knowing that I had a productive day doing something that was creative, something tangible. And that tangible thing is having stood up this blog and writing three times a week. It is the exercise that keeps my writer’s muscles toned. It is the platform for my writer’s voice. It is the diary and photo album for my kids, as well as for me. It has kept me buoyed even as I spent President’s Day Monday working on a white paper deadline.

Dressing up when I'm low energy can actually give me a boost.

Dressing up when I’m low energy can actually give me a boost.

The other thing that keeps me going is dangling carrots in front of me to stay motivated. I’m going to carve out a week of vacation in April and finally finish that last revision of my novel. Then I’ll have to figure out how to self-publish and market it on a platform such as Amazon. Marketing, one of my novelist colleagues has told me, is a constant job once you publish online. Once it’s up, though, I can finally return to the second novel that I started in 2006, before I allowed literary agent rejections to get to me. One of the carrots that I’m dangling in front of me to finish the first novel is the trip I’m going to take to Bolerium Books (2141 Mission St., #300 San Francisco, CA 94110, 415.863.6353), which specializes in rare and out-of-print books and other items on social movements. I discovered this fantastic bookstore while researching my first novel. It lies in the heart of the Mission district in the City, and it’s a place you will want to spend hours poring over the materials on the shelves on a rainy Saturday afternoon. I have e-mail alerts set up for books on the Philippines and amassed quite a number of relevant history books for my second novel. When I finish my first novel, I have told myself, I can take my long list and trek over to Bolerium Books to buy those rare books for my research. How motivating can that be? I love historical research; it puts me in the mood and fully immerses me in the time period.

There are a lot of things to do, but the thought of them and their promise are nourishing me now. And when you’re nourished, you are in a better position to help other people more fully and to push through onerous times. So these are the things that are keeping me going as I head into the home stretch of my busy season.

Adornments? Bring it on, piles of it. Mixing vintage (traveling walnut sewing kit from Treasury, Washington, D.C.), reclaimed vintage spider bracelet from M.E. Moore, and contemporary pieces (bow necklace from Gorgeous and Green, Berkeley, CA, and Art Deco scarab cuff from Alkemie, Los Angeles).

Adornments? Bring it on, piles of it. Mixing vintage (traveling walnut sewing kit from Treasury, Washington, D.C.), reclaimed vintage spider bracelet from M.E. Moore, and contemporary pieces (bow necklace from Gorgeous and Green, Berkeley, CA, and Art Deco scarab cuff from Alkemie, Los Angeles).

Last night, though, I really struggled with having to make dinner. It was a simple enough pasta dish with few ingredients. But I moved around the kitchen as if attached to a ball and chain. So what is the remedy when you need to take care of these mundane but necessary tasks? Looking forward to my near-future projects was not going to cut it. For a fleeting moment I thought to call David and say I’m exhausted so I’m going to grab takeout. Instead, I whipped out my iPhone and called up Pandora. I plugged it into my portable iHome system and the therapeutic music woke me up and gave me the energy to cook. And pretend I was at a karaoke bar. Saved by an endorphin rush, I thrived amidst another day in my busy season. My body felt vibrant and refreshed, so long as I sang.

I’m just about ready to reach for those dangling carrots….

Wearing red gives you more energy and empowerment.

Wearing red gives you more energy and empowerment.

Carmela Rose necklaces pop in this outfit, with earrings from Abacus (Portland, ME) and a simple band from In God We Trust (NYC) and statement ring from Juicy Couture.

Carmela Rose necklaces pop in this outfit, with earrings from Abacus (Portland, ME) and a simple band from In God We Trust (NYC) and statement ring from Juicy Couture.