camp

I was really lucky as a kid to get to go to summer camp. I went to a girl’s camp in northern Wisconsin – one that has been there since the 1950’s – for two months each summer for three years. I was in my early teens. I still dream about those years, those girls, that place.

I learned, among other things, how to set up a tent, build a camp fire and cook on it, sling bows and arrows, run rapids in a canoe, tye-dye and make really good friends.

The camp is getting ready for it’s 50th reunion and has dug out of various basements, drawers and closets thousands of old photos of campers over the years. I’ve been going through them online. I want to share two of my favorites.


If you have ever been swimming with me, you know that I do this awful imitation of synchronized swimmers doing a maneuver I think is called “ballet leg.” I learned it at camp. I am most certainly not in this photo, but this is the move. Well, I could possibly be the girl second from left in the water, because that’s pretty close to what my “ballet leg” looks like. At any rate, I love the photo.

The next one sent chills down my spine when I saw it. Yes, I learned how to print in the darkroom at summer camp! And here is the very darkroom. Again, not me in the photo, but to see a picture of the place where I first dipped my fingers in the developer – well, that was a thrill!

only in new york

My good friend from New York sent me this photo. Couldn't resist sharing. Thanks, Carol!

bronia

I have written about my friend Bronia before. You may recall that she is Holocaust survivor. (Please read my post from December 24, 2006 for her story.) But she is so much more than that.


At four and a half feet tall (give or take an inch or two), she is a giant of a woman. Bronia has been through it all. She endured the murder of most of her family in Europe, was imprisoned in several concentration camps and was eventually sent on a death march. She relocated to America as a young woman lacking money, connections or a good grip on the English language. She has been a wife, mother, business owner, grandmother, community volunteer, public (and “motivational”) speaker and beloved friend.


She called yesterday to say her car had broken down and asked if I’d take her to the grocery. As we strolled up and down the aisles, I was struck by her sense of determination, dignity and pride. It was obvious she wasn’t feeling well, but she kept on moving. It was clear she was down, but she kept on smiling - greeting a beloved friend or fan by the produce counter, again in dairy, again in the check-out line and once more in the parking lot. I was sure she would run out of steam, but she seemed to brighten with each and every encounter. After shopping, she invited me into her home (along with my friend Sandy who had accompanied us.) With much animation, she delivered one of her legendary spontaneous lectures. Sandy and I, held captive by her charm, commitment and compassion, heard about the importance of being strong, even in the face of adversity.

Bronia loves to sing a song (it’s in Yiddush) that has a chorus with the following English translation: “I’m gonna LIVE, LIVE, LIVE [she puts full blown emphasis on these words] until I die, die, die.”

I don’t know anyone who does “living” better than Bronia.

swimming pool

One of the ways I have been regaining my strength and improving my range of motion has been swimming. Today I schlepped my camera to the pool.

lynne

Lynne Melcher is a textile and dinnerware designer, whose collections have been carried by, among others, Crate and Barrel and Williams Sonoma. About a year ago she decided to delve into the world of filmmaking, a medium that has always fascinated her. After taking a few workshops and classes, she packed up her video gear and accompanied us to Uganda this past December to make a documentary about Change the Truth.

She shot twenty-five hours worth of footage. She worked tirelessly, capturing in a very artistic fashion the lives of the kids at St. Mary Kevin Orphanage and the work that was done on our mission trip. I made this picture of her when we were in Gulu.

Since we returned home three months ago, Lynne has surpassed “working tirelessly” whatever that might be called, and has poured her heart and soul into the film. Today I was privileged to see what she has put together so far, and I was very impressed. Next week she wants me to add my voice to it as part of the narration. Having never done anything like that before, I must admit I feel a bit intimidated!

The finished film will be shown at the CTT fundraiser/friendraiser in June. Please make every effort to attend so that you can see it for yourself. You’ll be witnessing the first of much more to come from this emerging filmmaker.

construction site

That would be me.

Several of you have written to ask how breast reconstruction works. Since I’m in the middle of it, I can certainly tell you. So… if you are not one of those have asked or you have no desire to know, now is your chance to change channels or turn off the set.

…………. (Those of you who wish to stay can hum a little tune now while the others go elsewhere.)

Okay. Here’s the skinny. There are a couple of options for reconstruction after mastectomy. I chose the tissue expander method. In this case, an empty sack was placed under my chest muscle by a plastic surgeon just after the breast surgeon had completed her job. It has a little tube and a valve in it, and a few weeks after the initial surgery, the plastic surgeon starting injecting saline into it, a little bit at a time, every couple of weeks or so. Basically, this stretches the skin. Once it gets to the desired size (a couple of months from now), I go in for another surgery. Then the sack will be removed and replaced with a permanent saline or silicone implant.

But, wait! That’s not all. Then comes the reconstruction of the nipple (or nibble, as one of our kids used to say.) But that’s another chapter, another time.

It’s a pretty amazing and sometimes uncomfortable process. But I really can't complain too much about the latter.

I know I am lucky to be doing this instead of needing chemo or radiation. While this is no walk in the park, in the scheme of things I am very fortunate.

we cannot stop the truth, but we can change the truth

These are the words that begin the chorus of the song written and performed by the choir at St. Mary Kevin Orphanage Motherhood. (If you want to hear the song, please visit the CTT website/ pictures page.)

Because of the continuous support of friends of Change the Truth, I am happy to report that we have recently offered secondary school sponsorships to three more deserving children. They are: Martin Ojok, Daniel Okello and Paula Namugenyi. Needless to say, these young people are ecstatic to be presented with the opportunity to attend school. They know, as well as anyone, that this is the way to avoid the grim future that so many orphans in Africa face.

That brings the total number of kids sponsored by Change the Truth to twenty. Thanks to each of you who has stepped up to make a donation to this project. It is a good thing you are doing. We hope to see these kids all the way through secondary school, then on to vocational school or University. And there are more kids waiting to begin their studies.

Here are more pictures of some of the sponsored students.

Saka

Joseph

Habib

Gloria

Emanuel Vincent

the rape of europa

An important documentary is opening in theatres around the country. Here is an article about “The Rape of Europa” that appeared in the Fall issue of the Jerusalem Post:

“The Nazi regime was not only the world's greatest murderer, but the biggest thief as well.

High on the list of loot were Europe's master paintings and sculptures, with failed artist Adolf Hitler and his avaricious henchman Hermann Goering personally spearheading the plunder.

More than 60 years after the fall of the Third Reich, the fallout from the great Nazi robbery is continuing, with thousands of art works still missing or sought by their original, largely Jewish, owners.

The story, as meticulously tracked in the two-hour documentary, The Rape of Europa, is complex, but even those unenthused by visits to galleries or museums will find the plotline riveting.

Numbers alone don't tell the story, but they are staggering. In total, the Nazis seized some 600,000 paintings, drawings, sculptures and Judaica artifacts during their 12-year reign, according to historian Jonathan Petropoulos of Claremont McKenna College, one the top experts on the subject.

As one small example, a detachment of the US Army's ‘Monuments Men’ found 6,500 paintings and sculptures in one Bavarian salt mine alone, and sent them to a collection point, which held 27 Rembrandt paintings.

Petropoulos said in an interview that up to 100,000 looted art works might still be missing, some destroyed, but others that may not be rediscovered for generations.

Hitler's obsession with art was as monumental, and as fervently anti-Semitic as his other manias. As a struggling young artist, Hitler was twice rejected for admission to Vienna's Academy of Fine Arts. The film's narrator ponders how the course of history might have been changed if Hitler had not been turned down by the academy's heavily Jewish faculty.

Hitler's revenge fantasy included the construction of a grandiose Fuehrer Museum in his hometown of Linz to house the greatest of his looted art works. Up until his last hours in his Berlin bunker, Hitler reworked his delusional plans for the museum.

Rape Of Europa opens and closes with shots of Maria Altmann, the 91-year old Los Angeles resident, who battled the Austrian and American governments for seven years to recover five paintings by Gustav Klimt, taken from her Viennese family and valued at $300 million.

In one of the landmark cases in the history of looted art, E. Randol Schoenberg, Altmann's lawyer, took the case up to the U.S. Supreme Court and won.

The film is the work of three San Francisco-based veterans of PBS documentaries, Richard Berge, Bonni Cohen and Nicole Newnham. Cohen is also the founder of Actual Films, which produced Rape of Europa, and she and her colleagues worked eight years on the documentary, basing it on Lynn H. Nicholas' book of the same title.

The filmmakers have crammed a remarkable amount of information and historical context into their work, enlivened by vintage footage of Hitler and other Nazi art connoisseurs and the work of Allied recovery teams.

Among the most vivid images is a ghost-like Louvre in Paris in 1939, emptied of its 35,000 works of art in advance of the German onslaught. Another is the picture of cheering Florentines, lining the streets to welcome the return, on U.S. Army trucks, of the city's looted paintings.

The saga is not over yet. Many paintings will likely never be recovered and the tedious work of returning others to their original owners is still continuing.”

cropping

I used to be quite the purist when it came to using the full frame of the pictures I made. I believe strongly that the ability to compose an image in the viewfinder is an important and necessary skill, one that forces the photographer to be careful, observant, thoughtful and precise. In most of the work I print(ed) in the wet darkroom, I include the black edge of the negative, both as an aesthetic piece and a declaration that what you see in the final image was what the camera captured when I released the shutter.

Working with digital capture has loosened (freed) me up a bit. I do crop now (not always), mainly because I still prefer the square format to the rectangle, and there is no such thing as an affordable square format digital camera. I am in the process of training my eye to impose an imaginary square in the viewfinder. (Yes, I suppose I could use tape or something, but this is actually working for me.)


So, usually the cropping is minimal: a chunk off either side. But there is one picture I made in Uganda that I really did a number on, and it has (surprisingly) become an important piece in this new body of work. You can see the first simple square crop in a post from December 10, 2007. Once home from the trip, I worked on it some more. The final result, a much more severe crop, injected the piece with the emotion that was/is truly there for me. I guess sometimes you just have to dig a little deeper to find what is there. I’m glad I have given myself permission now to do just that.

On a final note, I saw a portrait exhibition at the Nelson-Atkins Museum yesterday. Keith Davis, curator to beat all curators, suggested that a portrait can and usually does reveal “an external truth” AND an “internal truth.” I could not agree more, and in fact, I believe this picture sums that up better than anything I’ve made in a long time.

lensbaby 101

To celebrate the arrival of spring and my feeling better, I bought myself a "lensbaby." It kind of turns your SLR camera into a Holga or Diana (cheap, plastic "toy" camera). Kind of...

Anyway, here's my first foray into the lensbaby world - an abstraction of the beautiful orchid sent to me by a good friend while I was in the hospital.

kertesz

The critic from Durango mentioned in his review of my show at Open Shutter Gallery that my work has been influenced by Andre Kertesz. I’ve not heard that before, and I consider it a compliment. I certainly love his work and have looked at it over and over again throughout the years. I couldn’t help but think back to the time I had the distinct pleasure of meeting him. He was in Kansas City in the early 80’s for a major exhibition at the University. I hung a smattering a pieces in my gallery in honor of and in conjunction with that show. He came to the gallery for a small reception; he enjoyed the small exhibit and met some collectors.

I couldn’t resist sharing this snapshot made in front of my gallery. That’s baby Abbie in my arms! It looks like Kertesz and I are making a nice connection, but all I recall is that I was just so honored to be in his presence. It was a very special day, to be sure.


“André Kertész is recognized as one of the world's leading photographers. During a career spanning more than 70 years, he created images of ordinary life, in a style without pretension, using small-format cameras almost exclusively. As his instinctive formal sense became more assured, he retained the vital curiosity which first prompted him at age 18, to make a visual record of his daily life.

Working in a variety of modes, from portraits to still-lifes to nude distortions to photo-reportage, Kertész consistently captured the telling moment and the overlooked but expressive details of his subjects. He had an enduring influence upon world photography, particularly in France where he was a mentor to photographers such as Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Capa, and Brassai. Cartier-Bresson has acknowledged this achievement: ‘Whatever we have done, Kertész did first.’

Acclaimed a master by his peers, critics, and curators by the late 1930s, Kertész's reputation suffered during the 1940s and 1950s as his commercial work in America distracted viewers from his European achievements. Since 1963, however, the full range of his mastery - fragile, intimate and gently ironic - has been undeniable. Exhibitions and a stream of books and monographs during the past 20 years of his creative life have re-established Kertész in his rightful place in the photographic pantheon.”
- MastersofPhotography.com

Here are some examples of Kertesz’s work.

kevin carter

“Witness the shot of a stick-thin, malnourished toddler who stopped to rest on her way to a feeding station in war-torn Sudan. The picture, taken by South African photojournalist Kevin Carter, shows the girl on her knees, bent at the waist with her forehead resting on the dry, dusty dirt.

She is alone except for a vulture behind her, waiting for her to die.

This picture captivated the world in 1993 and won a Pulitzer Prize in 1994. A few months later, Carter taped a garden hose to the exhaust of his pick-up truck and fed the other end into the passenger side window.

Broke and depressed over the loss of a friend, his suicide note read, in part, ‘I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain . . . of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners.'"
- I.U. South Bend Preface, 4/07

“Mr. Carter started as a sports photographer in 1983 but soon moved to the front lines of South African political strife, recording images of repression, anti-apartheid protest and fratricidal violence. A few days after winning his Pulitzer Prize in April, Mr. Carter was nearby when one of his closest friends and professional companions, Ken Oosterbroek, was shot dead photographing a gun battle in Tokoza township.

His picture of an emaciated girl collapsing on the way to a feeding centre, as a plump vulture lurked in the background, was published first in The New York Times and The Mail & Guardian, a Johannesburg weekly. The reaction to the picture was so strong that The New York Times published an unusual editor's note on the fate of the girl. Mr. Carter said she resumed her trek to the feeding centre. He chased away the vulture.

Afterwards, he told an interviewer, he sat under a tree for a long time, ‘smoking cigarettes and crying’. His father, Mr. Jimmy Carter said last night: ‘Kevin always carried around the horror of the work he did.’”
- The New York Times, 1994, from Carter’s obituary

A recent discussion among those of us who traveled together to Uganda this past December about the moral dilemmas with which image- makers are sometimes confronted, as well as the emotional hardships endured by witnessing and recording trauma, led to a conversation about Kevin Carter and this well known photograph.

The photograph won Carter a Pulitzer Prize and catapulted him to photo fame; it also evoked much criticism. Many felt it was wrong of him to simply stand by and make a picture of the starving girl rather than putting down his camera and helping her to the nearby feeding center. Others took the stance that had he not made the picture, Sudan would have remained an unknown tragedy.

It is a thought provoking dialogue, one that often comes up among image-makers in devastating situations. If you would like to learn more about Carter check out this video.

auschwitz through the lens of the ss

Earlier this week, I attended an incredible program presented by the Midwest Center for Holocaust Education. It featured Becky Erbelding, an archivist at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, who came to KC with an impressive depth of scholarly information and a powerful group of photographs. (She is only twenty-six years old, by the way - a comforting realization that the story will continued to be told.)

In late 2006, a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel notified USHMM and said that he would like to donate a photo album that he had found in an abandoned apartment in Germany in 1946. This man (now elderly and who asked to remain anonymous) had been a member of the Counter Intelligence Corps and had conducted investigations of Nazi perpetrators for U.S. prosecutors after WW II.

The inscription on the front of the album read, “Auschwitz 21.6.1944.”

There are very few known wartime photographs of the Auschwitz concentration camp complex, which included Auschwitz-Birkenau, the largest Nazi killing center. By November 1944, the SS had killed more than a million Jews and tens of thousands of Roma, Poles, and Soviet prisoners of war in Auschwitz-Birkenau. At least 865,000 Jews were killed immediately upon arrival. Most were killed in the gas chambers.

The album has been attributed to Karl Hocker, basically the “chief of staff” at Auschwitz. He was stationed there from May 1944 until the evacuation of the camp in January 1945. The appearance of the album was an astonishing event at USHMM.

The presentation of photographs kept me spellbound. After all, I’ve grown quite accustomed to seeing photos of prisoners at various camps. Never had I seen what was going on with the SS; as the gas chambers were operating at maximum efficiency during the last months before the camp was evacuated, the officers were relaxing at their retreat center, singing, partying and socializing with the female employees. Even in the final months of the war, after Soviet troops had liberated some camps to the east, SS officers at Auschwitz continued enjoying life to its fullest.

Here’s what got to me the most as I sat there looking at these pictures: several of my Holocaust survivor friends were in the audience. How in the world did they feel seeing these images for the first time? What was the possibility that their mother, sister or grandfather had been ordered to the gas chamber by one of these officers just before a pictured sing-along or round of drinks?

Change the Truth update/sponsored students

Lots of great things are happening with Change the Truth! Twelve amazing women have volunteered to work on the friendraiser/fundraiser that is scheduled for June 12th. We had our first meeting on Sunday. Good ideas were bouncing all around the table, and the enthusiasm was contagious. If the kids at St. Mary Kevin's could have seen these creative and energetic people figuring out ways to help, they would have been dancing around the room! And speaking of the kids, I thought it might be nice to post pictures of some of the secondary school students who are being sponsored by Change the Truth - kids who are bright, kind, beautiful, hopeful and deserving... kids who would not have an opportunity to go this far with their education were it not for the generous people who have stepped forward to provide assistance.

And on that note, I would like to let you know that some very compassionate friends of CTT have offered to pay the nursing school fees for Douglas. How cool is that?

Florence

Catherine

Billy

Edward

Henry

Samarie

boy with push toy

As I continue to edit and print images from the trip to Uganda, I am spending time with pictures I didn’t choose the first time around. This one, actually, has become one of my favorites. This boy lived down the road from St. Mary Kevin’s.

breast cancer survivors

The women (and men) I have photographed over the last four years for the exhibition/calendar at a local hospital’s Breast Center continue to show their support for me by sending constant good wishes and words of encouragement. I have been asked to be a participant next year on BOTH sides of the camera; I will do a self-portrait for “Faces of Breast Cancer, 2009.” Who could have predicted that? Anyway, here are more portraits and words from past exhibitions:



I am a mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, girlfriend, medical technologist and eternal optimist. I am a breast cancer survivor. The initial shock of diagnosis was bone chilling, but there were so many options available for treatment and support that my fears were replaced with knowledge and, more importantly, a chance to fight back. One of the most difficult things during my treatment was not being able to be with my grandchildren at times when my immunity was low. But I had the bonus of anticipating the birth of a new grandson due the week of my last chemo treatment! Not only was he a joyful addition to our family, but his arrival signified a healthy new life for me.

Leslie




After many years of being deliberate about getting my mammograms, December 1999 changed everything. I was shocked to learn I had cancer because we have no family history. I learned that this disease spares no one. Early detection is so important.

Karen (daughter)

Our lives are too short. We must live each day to its fullest and treasure our lives, family and friends. My experience with breast cancer was stressful but my doctors, nurses and caregivers gave me confidence. I have learned to enjoy the beauty of my family and friends and to never lose faith.

Nellie (mother)




I am a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend and business manager. Even though I never thought it would happen to me, I am a breast cancer survivor. Despite my initial fear, I have learned how resilient survivors can be. I have learned that relationships with people are the most important part of my life. I’m blessed with wonderful family, friends, co-workers and physicians. My advice for other women is not to wait or hesitate. Early diagnosis gives you more options.

Vikki




I thought breast cancer only happened to older people, but when a volunteer handed me instructions on how to do a breast self-exam, I took one anyway. I went ahead and did the check and found a little lump. I only went to the doctor after much urging from my mother. One appointment led to another until a biopsy confirmed that I had cancer. I used to be an introvert but I’ve found myself reaching out and getting more involved with more and more people since I’ve had breast cancer. Now since I’m here, I want to make a difference.

Tonia




Being diagnosed the first time at age thirty-two was a frightening experience. The second time was a challenge that also brought positive changes into my life. I embrace my family and friends and try to build loving, lasting memories. Exercise is a routine part of my life, and I feel it is an important tool for surviving this disease. A breast cancer diagnosis is not the end. It could be the beginning of a new life experience.

Mary Lou

speaking of voices

A reader from Maine has brought to my attention a wonderful program he’s established for kids with cancer. It’s all about helping the children find a way to express their thoughts and feelings with a Holga, a plastic camera. Please check out his website. What he’s done is inspiring, and what the kids have to say with their pictures is doubly so.

You know, this is what makes this blogging thing so cool. How else would he have heard of my work, and how else could I have passed his work along to you?

finding one’s own voice

It’s a tricky and difficult business, whether you’re a painter, musician, teacher, chef, writer, photographer. But it’s what we all set out to do. Simply mouthing someone else’s words gets old, and besides, it’s not very stimulating or fulfilling.

Recently a reader wrote to tell me that my work has helped inspire him as he tries to discover his own personal vision. What an honor. I was really moved by this. It called to mind the long list of photographers whose work has challenged, motivated and encouraged me as I (continue to) build and fine-tune my voice as an image-maker.

I thought about a quote of Mary Ellen Mark’s in response to the question, “How did you develop your own way of seeing?” She said (and by the way, Mary Ellen has hugely impacted me over the years, both on a personal and visual level):

“I don’t think you can develop or learn a way if seeing or a ‘point of view.’ A ‘way of seeing’ is who you are, how you think and how you create images. It’s how you look at the world. For example, look at the work of some of the great photographers like Robert Frank, Irving Penn, Andre Kertesz, Helen Levitt and Henri Cartier-Bresson. It’s easy to recognize their pictures because their photographs reflect their distinct vision.” She advises budding photographers to “be true to yourself and follow your hopes and dreams. Look at the work of great photographers and try to understand what makes their images great. Be inspired, but don’t copy their work. You must have your own point of view, your own way of looking at the world. The worst thing someone can say to you is that your work reminds them of somebody else’s work.” (from Image Makers/Image Takers by Anne-Celine Jaeger)

I agree with everything MEM says, with the exception of that last statement.

I am not so sure it is possible to speak in a way that is totally void of any and all other influences. We move through life with a constant barrage of other people’s ideas and expressions. Unless you put on a blindfold, a mouth guard, a nose-clip, earplugs and thick rubber gloves each morning, you are bound to take in the sights, sounds and feel of the people, the music, the flavors, the pictures and the movement of each and every day. This is a good thing! It’s called “living.” How can we not be influenced by what we see and hear and smell and touch and taste each day?

How can the images we ultimately make NOT refer back to all those we have previously seen?

It doesn’t bother me if someone sees a nod to Levitt or Mann or Arbus or Cartier-Bresson in my work. What an honor. In fact, I feel like I am carrying the torch they lit, which was surely lit by people before them and which will hopefully be carried forward by others to come. No, I don’t want my work to look just like theirs, but I can’t help it if the seeds of my inspiration were planted by them. Their work (and the work of many others) informs mine. The challenge, of course, to take what they have given me and cultivate those thought processes in such a way that the new “plants” become my own.

convergence/durango

So much for global warming, at least in Durango, Colorado this year. Seems they had more snow in February than they knew what to do with. There was talk about shoveling snow off rooftops and hanging “gone skiing” signs on the doors of businesses. On the night of my opening, there was a blizzard. At least one person has trudged through the snow to see my show, though, and that was the art critic for the weekly paper. You can read the review here.

douglas

Douglas, lower left corner (photo by Ann)

One of the young people who grabbed the attention of all seven of us when we were at St. Mary Kevin’s in December is a twenty-one year old named Douglas. He is handsome and has a dazzling smile. Douglas represents those children at the orphanage who are neither “true” orphans or even “half” orphans. As far as he knows, both his mom and dad are alive. They are just not in his life, and they haven’t been for many years. He has fought hard to survive and has managed to emerge from his harsh circumstances with a warm, gentle personality, a generous nature, a fabulous talent on the drums, as well as a kind and nurturing attitude toward the young ones at the orphanage. He helped Ann in the play therapy sessions most days we were there. He was her translator; he also quickly became a shoulder for the broken young orphans to lean on and cry on.

Basically, we all fell in love with this kid.

I have received a request from Douglas. He will soon be graduating from [the equivalent of] high school and wants to become a nurse. Given his sweet nature, this does not surprise me.

He has asked Change the Truth to help him with the fees necessary for nursing school. He does have a sponsor currently, but the fees being paid only cover secondary school, which is much less expensive. I told him I would try to gather more sponsors for him so we could make up the difference.

This would clearly be a home run for both Change the Truth and for Douglas. As I look down the road and imagine this dear young man going to work each day at a hospital or clinic, having fulfilled his dreams in spite of some horrible odds, I get a pretty big smile on my face. Think about what you may be able to do to help achieve his goal. If you’d like to make a donation and earmark it for Douglas’ nursing education, please contact me. If you have someone in mind who may want to help, please pass along this blog post.

Here is Douglas’s story, in his own words:

"I was born in November, 1986 in the western part of Uganda, a district known as Mubende.

Mainly my story at times makes me sad and weep whenever I am trying to testify to people. My mum left me at my home when I was only 2 yrs old. The best I can remember is that she was chocolate skinned. Dad found the situation difficult to raise me alone so he got me a step mum, believe it was not only one step mum but more than one. This was like from fire to the sauce pan (made matters worse) cause my step mums mistreated me to the extent of burning me during my childhood.

I was forced to run away from home because my dad did nothing about my situation yet my life was in danger. A friend of mine took me to his home and the parents welcomed me. However after some time the parents could not take it any more because I was growing and my needs increasing. But I thank God my friend new about Rose Mary and St. Mary Kevin through rumors, so he took me there.

That was 1998 when I was 12 yrs. Mama Rose Mary welcomed me so much and gave me a place to stay even if she had not enough money. I studied up to this level of school and now my results are back soon.

I am so happy to be at St. Mary Kevin because I am more comfortable than ever before. Thanks Mama Gloria, Friends of Change the Truth, Mama Rose Mary and families.

More to that. Mama Gloria, everybody at St. Mary Kevin has a story to tell even I my self. It has not been easy. Rose Mary and Joseph and family have done alot in people's lifes despite of their little earnings. Now that we have you we have hope, we feel loved and comfortable because you are our angles straight from heaven. Thanks alot to all our friends of Change the Truth. We have a family to belong to.”

And this added piece, from Rosemary:

“During 2007, Douglas sat for his Senior 4 examinations. He is currently waiting for his results.

After completion of Senior 4, one has two options:

a) Continue to Senior 5 and eventually to University, or

b) Join vocational skills training, i.e. nursing, teaching, hotel management, etc.

Douglas has opted for vocational training and is interested in taking a course in nursing. This course takes two and a half years, equivalent to five semesters. The cost per semester is one million and two hundred thousand shillings per semester. This means the total cost of the course is US $3,550 spread over two and a half years. (There are extra costs including uniforms and some medical equipment.)

The course will start November, 2008 and can be undertaken at a number of institutions in and around Kampala.”

birthday

Today is my mother’s birthday. She would have celebrated number eight-five, though it is hard now for me to imagine her that old. All my siblings and their families, Eddie, our children and I would have most likely descended upon our folks’ house to celebrate with a velvet red cake and a few bottles of chardonnay.

I have missed her sorely, especially these past few weeks since I have been sick. Back in the day, she would have shown up at our doorstep, bright and cheerful and ready to do the work of taking care of my house, my kids and me. I could have rested my head on her shoulder.

Anita was a beautiful woman; I know that I did not/ do not possess the grace, elegance and style she did, and I think I was pretty young when I figured that out.

After she died in 2005, I wrote a piece about being with her the last few days of her life. This is an excerpt from that essay; it is about my mother’s hands, a subject matter that never fails to intrigue me, regardless of whose hands they are. My mom’s were pretty special, though:

“I need to mention my mother’s hands. They were long and slender and ridiculously graceful. They always seemed poised to begin conducting the musical piece she was hearing in her head. When she hummed or sang aloud, her hands danced elegantly in front of her. She played the piano and the cello when she was younger. The sight of those hands gliding back and forth across the bridge of the cello, her baby finger held delicately in the air, always made me feel slightly ashamed. My hands were thick and small, good for scaling trees and catching baseballs. There was always dirt beneath my fingernails. My mother’s hands were like porcelain – as white and smooth and tapered as you could possibly imagine.”

Happy B-day.

imagine

At the risk of losing all credibility with my readers, I am admitting here and now that one of my most embarrassing guilty pleasures is that I like to watch American Idol.

Still there?

Last night was the guys' turn to sing. There isn’t a lot of talent that wows me this year, so I was actually doing some work on my laptop, leaving the show to simply become background (noise, music – depended on the contestant.)

The last kid to sing – and he is a kid… I think he’s all of 16 or 17 years old - caused me to turn off the computer. Then he brought tears to my eyes and, then, well, he kind of brought me to my knees, as they say.

David Archuleta sang John Lennon’s “Imagine.” When was the last time you listened to it and really paid attention to the words? When was the last time a very young person had you believing that everything will be OK if we just close our eyes and, well… you know the rest.

“Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one”

John Lennon, 1971

Take a couple of minutes out of your day to give it a listen . I don’t think you’ll be sorry you did.

(Oh, and when I got up off my knees, I watched the debate.)

food

One of the most important truths we learned when we traveled to St. Mary Kevin’s in December is this: the children are hungry more often than not and offering them three meals a day is often a questionable proposition.

Since our return, we have been frank about this and have managed to receive some substantial donations from people who would like to address the food problem head-on.

Because of the kindness of these donors, Change the Truth has been able to commit to contributing $1000 US each month for at least the next year for the purchase of food. In my most recent missive from Rose Mary, she addressed the issue:

“We received the February funds and we withdrew that money to purchase food – rice, corn flour, potatoes, sugar, beans & soy, meat & milk, etc. The food stocks will last three weeks, up to mid-March. We are working on provisional plans to start a food farm upcountry late this year, or early next year. First we have to prepare figures to show that the project will be cost-effective (relative to purchase of ready food products from markets in town); then we need agricultural input on the best seeds and the planting cycle; and finally we need a small-scale feasibility study to prove.”

This is why I love working with Rose Mary and Joseph. They explore every possibility, every angle. If it makes more sense for the CTT funds to go into a self-sustaining farm, then so be it! I trust them to determine which option will be the best.

Some mornings while we were there, the children complained that they were hungry. We realized it would be asking a lot of them to sit down to an art project or a therapy session on an empty stomach, so we waited patiently along with them to see what would unfold. Soon, we would see the older boys dragging tree limbs toward the cooking area. Then a fire would be lit, followed by the long process of mixing and cooking the porridge, and finally, the clanging of a stick hitting a metal can and children filing toward the huge blackened pot with their plates in hand.

We learned later that from day to day, it is an uncertainty as to if/ how often that might happen. The seven of us knew it needed to be urgently addressed by Change the Truth as soon as we returned home.


As you know, there are lots of ways to help the hungry. I personally have chosen to help these 150 orphans in Kajjansi, Uganda. Eddie and I also help the hungry in Kansas City by contributing to and working for Harvesters . There is an organization called Mazon which is a Jewish response to hunger to which we also donate; they help hungry families across the country.

There is so much you can do – in your own backyard and even a few backyards away.

Imagine waiting for the clanging, and it doesn’t come.