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MLK Corps VISTA Newsletter Vol. 1, No. 9: August 1, 2002

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by D.H. Cass Magnuski
While it's certainly true that a closed mouth gathers no feet, I can't help but try to rattle your cages again while I still have the floor. This is my last chance, and I just want to take this opportunity to try to encourage you to question the questions. Really, I'm not clamoring for attention. After all, I'm the proud owner of a self-stroking ego, as you can all see.

Correct me if I'm wrong...
I can't deny that I've certainly benefited from the phenomenon, however political correctness nevertheless rankles me, though not for the usual reasons.

I'm bugged because the issue of PC somehow always seems to send us around the bend in pursuit of a red herring. It obfuscates issues. Can you say obfuscate? Just when we're about to delve deeply into cause and effect, we inevitably end up in a debate about how we phrased our arguments. This vexes me. Why does political correctness tend to prevent problem solving? If I didn't think I know better, I'd scream, "Conspiracy!"

As a writer, I certainly know the rules. One must. I obey them, too. But I must confess that I prefer open discussion. If we expect, someday, to be decision-makers, we have to learn that personal feelings have no part to play when we're addressing universal issues. When we entertain a forum for personal feelings every time PC rears its ugly head, we squander our precious time on issues ancillary to the real problems. Moreover, it patronizes the offended.

What we need is progress. I'm thinking that we should develop a work-around to the PC problem, particularly when we're discussing poverty issues. Perhaps we could learn to table the issue, and set aside a specific time to deal with it.

If we don't, we should keep in mind that the temptation is to exclude any source of discomfort. I'm talking about the very people most affected by conditions of poverty. If we limit the conversants to those who can't be hurt by incorrect phrasing, the poor have no input. Intentional or not, the effect is to keep the power out of the hands of the disfranchised, and in those of the usual suspects.

Am I wrong? Is political correctness not a fly in the ointment? We have to be able to get to the issues if we're to be effective.

On solving poverty
And while we're on the subject, are you disturbed because you didn't resolve the poverty conundrum?

I hate to be the one who breaks the news, but that's never gonna happen. There are a myriad of reasons, too many to begin to discuss here. Maybe you thought I was unfeeling when I didn't get exercised over the issue. Trust me, it didn't keep me from doing my work with enthusiasm. Still, I'm old enough to know better. What we did here, hopefully, was to upgrade the quality of life for a few people. No more. No less. We made, at least, a noble try.

The communists also tried to solve poverty. Marx and Engels had a very sharing idea. But the Marxists neglected to factor human nature into their equation. They were idealistic. Probably due to survival urges, human nature makes people naturally competitive and attracted to one-upmanship. Human nature makes me want a better apartment than yours, and cooler stuff. It makes this one badmouth or outmaneuver that one, in order to impress the crowd. Heh. "Crowd of what?" That's what I always want to know.

Communism failed largely because of innate human corruption. And corruption is everywhere, Bubba. Remember to factor it into your calculations. Don't be an idealist. Idealism, like Trix, is for kids.

Need a job?
A hundred years ago and beyond, we had an agrarian economy. That's what Jefferson envisioned -- everybody living on a subsistence farm, having enough, if they worked at it; doing better, if they worked harder. But he missed his mark. We've developed into a huge market economy.

You knew that, right? It's certainly not a democracy. It was always meant to be a republic. But sans citizen participation at an adequate level, and given our greedy inclinations, well, it's just a market economy.

The market economy works, more or less, because it's actually based upon the annoying proclivities of human nature. Granted, the market economy has put many surprising things within our reach, but it also tends to foster giant corporations. Most of us are or will be their wage slaves. What else can we do?

Those corporations are pretty much running the world these days. Many are part of the military industrial complex, a phrase coined by President Eisenhower upon his exit from office. It refers to the intertwined relationship between private corporations, the armed forces and the federal government -- and the enormous power they wield. When the country is at war, declared or otherwise, ask yourself who stands to profit. You owe yourself that much.

Think I'm talking through my hat? Hell, the meat industry has lobbied successfully for the right to poison us and charge us for the privilege. Ever hear of e.coli? If you're relying on the USDA to save you, consider their record thus far. Consider the fact that they are charged with both promoting the meat industry and policing it. Heh.

Worried about jobs? Me, too, ever since the Wall Street bubble of the 90s burst. Busted my chops to acquire webmaster and content manager skills. Just as I entered the market, companies began crashing and burning all around me. It was a conflagration! Then, poof! voila! Suddenly, there were no jobs.

You do realize that the notion of job seeking is relatively new? People used to consider independent occupations, but we've been edged out of the market. Not so long ago, for example, one could actually opt to open a mom and pop outfit. Lacking an education, you could sell groceries, candy, shoes or whatever. This is no longer the case, especially if you live in a city. In the countryside, there's less competition from the big boys, if you can keep the WalMart phenomenon out of the picture. But there are also fewer customers.

Okay, I admit that you're still free to try it, but I submit that you can also expect to fail. The banks know this better than anyone, and won't make you a loan. So, you'd better bring your own cash. The little guy can't compete with the giant corporations. Unless we stick with the NPOs, we can expect to work for the big corporations and against ourselves.

And now a word from our sponsor...
Who drives your spaceship, Bubba? It certainly isn't me, so I really hope it's you. Be an activist, I say. If you see something you don't like, I want you to think first, then activate.

Contrary to popular opinion, the opposite of passivity is not agression. Maybe you think I'm preaching to the choir, but your year of formal activism is just about over, and I want you to continue being good citizens.

Ask yourself some questions. Does life happen to you or do you happen to it? Do you equally examine both sides of the issue, or just assume that you're on the right side because your side is more populated? Do you vote? Do you research your votes? No? Do you believe that if we all quit voting, they'll all go away? Who wins when you behave in a passive manner? I can tell you this much. It isn't you.

Are you a couch potato? Do you make excuses? Blame others? Are you irresponsible? Denial of responsibility is the stance of the victim. Are your opinions shaped by your scant personal experience and personal emotional attitudes? If so, you're passive.

Couch potatoes are the quintessential passive people. Marketing professionals adore them. They blandly absorb all those commercials.

Marketing professionals are not your friends. When you see an emotionally potent ad, you're seeing propaganda. Propaganda is defined as an attempt upon your emotions. Tom Paine did it. So did Sam Adams. But nobody does it better than the marketers. Like teenaged boys, they only want one thing. And, believe me, they do not love you.

Granted, there's a time for everything, including passivity. But, why is action so important? It's important because when no one with sanity and humanity acts, the playing field is left to halfwits and people seeking personal gain at the expense of the rest of us. Make a point of caring. Maybe you can't always empathize, but you can can help hammer out some possible solutions. If nothing else, it's good mental aerobics.

It's a fact. Passive types work for active types, if at all. There's no point in complaining. Active types take responsibility. They play an important part in the world. They think, brainstorm and use their imaginations to make intelligent decisions. They don't mistake intellect for rote repetition of what a professor once reiterated from an ivory tower.

So, here's what I want you to do. Use your imaginative and analytical capabilities to the fullest. Check out all the possibilities and discover new approaches. Compare and contrast feasibility. Consider the pros and cons. It's all about self-discipline and hard work. I've watched you this year, so I know you can do it.

For auld lang syne...
Now it's time to leave the Emerald City. Pay no attention to that woman behind the curtain. She thinks she's the great and powerful wizard of ahs. But, we are all fools here, so kindly cut her some slack one last time.

She has some going-away presents for you. Reach into the bag here, and pick out a prize.

If it ticks, it's a clock. Don't mistake it for a heart.

If you get a paper cut, it's a diploma. Don't mistake it for an intellect.

If you've pricked your finger, you've earned a Purple Heart. It's a medal. Don't mistake it for courage.

Disappointed? Don't be. It's clear to me that you don't need any of this excess baggage, anyway. One last thought: You start with a full bag of potential and an empty bag of experience. The trick is to fill the bag of experience before you empty the bag of potential.

Now, Corps, at-TENNN-hup! Forward, HARCH! Look, there's Glenn! Eyyyyes LEFT! To the rear, HARCH! Company HALT! Did you all remember to wear your ruby slippers? James? In unison, now, close your eyes, click your heels together three times, and repeat after me:

"There's no place like... (select one): (home) (Nome) (Rome) (I like Twinkies!)"

You see, you don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Kansas.

Note that I didn't sky-write, "Surrender, Dorothy!" Could've. Didn't. And because of your tender ages, I also restrained the flying monkeys.

Now, Corps, di-uhssssss-MISSED!

She takes her hat and slowly walks away.

letters
from
moldova

Please note: This is the final issue of Breadlines, folks. We've elected to run the remainder of this series in this issue. Please click on the "...more" link at the bottom to read on.

Glenn Puckett, our program coordinator, was in the Peace Corps from 1998-2000. He was assigned to Moldova. Click here for background.

by Glenn Puckett

Everyone at home is missed terribly. That continues to be the hardest part of our life. There are so many times we’ll say to each other, "Man, I wish so and so was here to see that!" I stand and look out our living room window, watching the kids play in the park behind our apartment, and I can almost imagine I’m watching kids playing in America. This is one of the best neighborhoods in Moldova. But to Americans, I suppose it would look more like a ghetto. That’s a good example of normalizing. I would have been scared to walk into an apartment building like ours if I was in America. But no matter how used to our surroundings we get, the fact that you all are not here is a regular reminder that we are far from home.

This is where our letter originally left off, but since I was delayed in sending it, I might as well add a little tidbit of news. I woke up a couple days ago with some stomach pain, which I attributed to all the rich Moldovan food we had eaten the past weekend spent in the village. But when the pain began to localize, I called the Peace Corps Medical Officer, who insisted I come in. And it was a good thing I did, because it turned out I had an acute appendicitis. The doc took me to a Moldovan hospital and I went under the knife that afternoon. I returned home yesterday, after an overnight stay to recover from the anesthesia, and now I’m just laying low and healing. The Moldovan medical staff was very kind and attentive. And our Peace Corps Medical Officer stayed with me every minute, even spending the night with me at my bedside, to be sure everything went well. So no need to worry. I could not have received better care, and should now have a handsome scar to show off.

That’s it from here. Miss you all, and wish you the best. We think of everyone at home all the time, and send our love.

G&T
September 1999

Dear friends and family,

Ok! So hey how are you?! Sorry to be so long between letters. Summertime is a very busy time in Moldova. Can anyone believe we have less than a year remaining in our Peace Corps contract? Believe it. And now in our second summer, we’re able to reflect on our experience with a little different perspective. As we’ve said before, things in Moldova are not so new and exciting as they were in our first year. Watching the seasons roll around for the second time, we begin to appreciate our accomplishments over the past year, both personal and professional. Now we understand what it takes to survive. Rather than stumbling through our daily lives as newcomers; trying to pay bills, deal with the landlady, the bank, the market, the buses, not to mention trying to figure out where we fit in with our work assignments, we are now comfortable in our routine, more or less coasting along. We have lives that, most of the time, seem perfectly normal, often to the extent that we can’t imagine not being here or doing anything else. However, there are still times when normal is not so normal.

Tamar continues to blossom, like this summer’s wildflowers. Since her tremendous success with Earth Day in the Spring, she has been busy with the GLOBE environmental awareness program, and a training seminar in grant writing for the Moldovan NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) community. It is clear, based on feedback from people throughout our work community, that Tamar has become a leader in the environmental community. Whether she likes it or not, people with environmental issues are frequently directed to her. And she is becoming increasingly confident and self-assured as a result.

It is wonderful to watch. And when I say watch, I mean it literally. Last night Tamar made her fourth or fifth appearance on Moldovan television. She has been interviewed by the national news stations on both radio and television (in Romanian, mind you), and handles herself like a pro. We have grown accustomed to our landlady calling to tell us she just saw Tamar on TV or heard her on the radio. She was interviewed during a protest at the European Bank of Reconstruction and Development this spring. We were protesting the irresponsible construction of a nuclear plant in Ukraine -- a demonstration organized by the student volunteers at Tamar’s NGO. (I was there, wearing a very uncomfortable WWII gas mask.) Next it was national radio for Earth Day, followed by an interview at her hugely successful grant writing seminar two months ago. (Also just about the only training I could get my counterpart to attend.) Most recently she was interviewed by Moldovan national television during her first GLOBE training, along with the Minister of Education, despite the fact that his ministry had consistently dropped the ball on everything they committed to contribute to the project. Shameless mugging for the cameras is one thing government leaders in Moldova understand well.

Getting this GLOBE training together was a major coup for Tamar, although she may be too weary right now to appreciate it. In other countries, volunteers are assigned entirely to GLOBE, in hopes of accomplishing over two full years, what Tamar has done in only six months. Watching the report on television, it is clearly a very impressive training, with very serious content and equipment. Speaking of which, this brings to mind an amusing (not so amusing at the time, of course) example of the kind of frustrations we experience in Moldova.

The training materials for the GLOBE program include huge instruction books, with all kinds of important information on collecting and reporting scientific data in a manner sufficient to meet the requirements of the international scientific community who will use it. Tamar had arranged for GLOBE headquarters in D.C. to send the materials five months ahead of time. Two months before the training she was informed that the manuals were held up at the FedEx office, and required Moldovan customs to sign off on them. That is, of course, only after special documentation was presented. Exasperated with her own organization's inability to make any headway, Tamar enlisted the help of representatives from Peace Corps, to see what they could do. But after numerous efforts, there was still no progress, and only 10 days remaining before the training. Finally, after being told once again that there was an additional document they needed in order to release the materials, Tamar demanded, not very politely in fact, that she get her boxes or she would not leave the FedEx premises. The Moldovan FedEx manager finally acquiesced to her demand, but after checking around, informed her that the materials were not on the premises, and that they would have to go to a storage facility a short drive away, to retrieve them.

Some minutes later they arrived at an ordinary apartment building, and proceeded to a seemingly random apartment. The FedEx person knocks on the door, and they are admitted to the apartment by a grandmotherly retiree, Natasha, who’s preparing borsht. This is a typical Moldovan apartment, owned by a typical baba (that’s Romanian for grandmotherly retiree); that is except for the five large boxes of GLOBE manuals sitting on her balcony in the back, which are supposedly in the strict custody of Moldovan customs officials. Enough said? Don’t bother asking why. That’s one of the many things we’ve learned when-not-to-do.

Proud as I am of Tamar’s professional accomplishments, I’m still equally proud of her development on the playing field. Do you remember my comments regarding her development on the basketball court?

Well, Tamar has also become a serious ultimate frisbee player, and a fierce competitor. Perhaps this is not such a new development, given her Krevsky blood, but I think her competitiveness is maturing and that makes her even more fun to play with. It has even reached the point where she complains about the limitations of new players who do not understand their defensive assignments on the field. In the meantime, I have become the ultimate frisbee terminator, heroic big play maker, and intimidating free safety. Or something like that.

...more

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