Javier told me one afternoon while driving around with me: I want to make a painting of a yellow flowered tree behind our house at dusk. It was a very specific request. I could sense he had a picture in his mind of what he wanted and how it would look. This tree does exist. It is a big old tree that he can see well outside his window, just beyond our house.

Before I could sit down with him to direct him, he had already drawn the trunk.  In his uncanny artistic sensibility he drew it off center but stopped because he did not know how to avoid the old childish ways of doing a big roundish ball on top of the tree. He brought me his drawing and said: How am I going to make the top? I told him he would not draw the shape of the top of the tree but first draw the skeleton of the tree, branches, big ones first and guess where they divided to build that general shape of the tree.  Then we would add leaves.

He came back to me less than an hour later. His trunk had veins, he had the branches that reached out in a whimsical fashion that matched the shape of that big ol tree. He had also drawn leaves and put himself in along with a couple of imaginary palm trees that seemed to sway in the wind. His drawing was beautiful. We all complimented his on a job beautifully done.

Then came the hard part. “Now,” I explained “you have to paint over it and do the background colors of  your painting. I took a piece of paper out and quickly alluded to his project. I talked him through the steps. “You want to cover the whole canvas. Think about the time of day and where the lighter and darker parts of the sky are going to be.  When it is morning you go lighter at the horizon to more intense blue on top, when the sun is going down, then it can be the opposite. It depends on where the sun sets. In our case the sun sets behind us.  We can put reds and purples on the sky to remind people the sun is setting. The grass will be dark. Cover the canvas and then play with the designs of the brush and the colors. Have fun.” I then painted on top of the background, a tree like his, leaves and flowers. I even painted his silver clouds and white bright moon. I showed him that with these paints, light colors can go on top of dark colors.

He listened intently and yet at every pause in my instructions he reached for the brush in my hand and quickly said, ” I understand, let me do it.” “I know how to do it now.” Then the time came when it was his turn. He started out well. But then he stopped. He started painting around the tree. I told him he had to paint over his tree and then draw it again but with paint. “Painting is not drawing. Drawing helps you know what you want so you can do it. But painting will always give you something different.” I tried to explain simply and to the point.

I left him to do other things and then heard sobbing. He had fallen in love with his drawing and now could not bear to paint over it. I tell him the drawing was practice to show him the way, how to use the space.” In tears he begs me not to make him paint over it.  I opened a big art book to show him how artists paintings do the same thing and that is why they don’t have white gaps around the edges. We looked at his previous painting examples and saw the white edges. He knew what had to be done and why and yet he cried.

He cried some more without an audience. Then there was silence. Half an hour later he came to me and said, “Mom, come look at my painting, I already finished the background. What do we do next!”  His excitement made it all better. It lessened my guilt for being a stern art teacher and mother that would not coddle him.  It did not feel good then, but I am sure through all this pathos he will remember we painted the backyard view together and his painting will be awesome.

In my searches I came across this text that I could best describe as excessively verbose flowery language that romanticized the way of the cross to a point that I found it offensively naive.  In my ignorance I attributed the text to some well intentioned soul attempting to put into sacramental language the last moments of his beloved Jesus.  Then I saw the same text surface in another search.  I attributed the coincidence to the common practice of quoting extensively and without permission between internet sites, which in matters of spirituality can be assumed to be content provided to the public domain free to use though it is simply immoral not cite. Then I came across the same corny depiction yet again:

When our divine Savior beheld the cross, He most willingly stretched out His bleeding arms, lovingly embraced it, and tenderly kissed it, and placing it on His bruised shoulders, He, although almost exhausted, joyfully carried it.

I searched for “joyfully carried it” and came to find that the words that I had mocked and scorned were from St. Francis of Assisi. Could it be? Of all the saints I could pick on, I had not expected to find me arguing against or rejecting the form of St. Francis’ spirituality, and yet here I was.

I was in the midst of writing to a priest to coordinate a Lenten Meditation for the parish when it occurred to me that if he needed a topic, maybe he could help me breach a gap in understanding. I wrote:

If you have a Lenten Season theme already developed that you wish to share with our faith community that would be fine. If you would rather be provided a topic…  I have a humble request:   As I gathered materials for celebrating Friday evening meditations on the Stations of the Cross, I was surprised by my discomfort or dislike (both terms seem a tad strong but words fail me) of the wording in the St. Francis of Assisi version of the Ways of the Cross.

One of the more challenging notions for me was to think that Jesus embraced his cross gladly, joyously. I can understand the gift of peace and I can envision peaceful resignation, but the freedom to be joyous in suffering is a foreign concept. I am not sure if this is a Jesus human vs Jesus divine quandary or a matter cross-cultural miscommunication or the need for translation services to properly convey his message. As it stands in reading the text I am left wondering “Is my path, his way of the cross if I am not joyful in my sorrow?” Where did this text that is attributed to St. Francis of Assisi come from and how can it enrich our mundane way of the cross?

Alas, the visiting Jesuit theologian did not get my request but already had a topic of his own, so I was left to continue to wrestle with my unexpected criticism of dear St. Francis.  I had no problem receiving the cross, nor bearing it. It is the “joy,” the “kissing” and romantic overtones of  the loveliness of the cross that I am failing to grasp:

O dearly beloved cross! I embrace thee, I kiss thee, I joyfully accept thee from the hands of my God. Far be it from me to glory in anything, save in the cross of my Lord and Redeemer. By it the world shall be crucified to me and I to the world, that I may be Thine forever.

How can I reject St. Francis? This question was at the forefront of my thoughts, I began to hear and serendipitously  receive bits and pieces that would help pave the way to making peace with my dislike of St. Francis’ words.  A Truth, I am convinced, must be lost in translation. Somewhere between the middle ages and today, a Truth was lost.

That Sunday the sermon addressed the transfiguration.  Fr. Vega spoke Viktor Frankl’s concentration camp reflections and the human need to have a purpose. When we have a purpose and we have hope anything and everything is possible. In our Christian path it is through love and service that we find our purpose.  Vega also invited us to revisit what being in the presence of someone one loves is like, being and knowing we filled satiated and have a purpose.  The cost we would be willing to pay in order not to loose sight of that moment in time where we have love and purpose.  This is how Fr. Vega helped us understand the witnessing of the Transfiguration and the confusion that ensued as Jesus anticipated the inevitable end and separation. Who would want to loose that connection with the Divine, that moment? What would you do to keep it?

Because St. Francis was never far from my thoughts, my mind suddenly saw the flowery, romanticized language  in the light of a jilted lover unwilling to let go, to take anything to keep love’s comfort present. Was I to see St. Francis as a poet?  I can only see joy in a cross if the heart is so naive as to be in a state drugged by love into a aching dependence free of all other early cares.

After mass, a fellow parishioner shared with me a catholic magazine he had saved for me. It was a product of Franciscan Media.  It was an opportunity to get to know the voice of St. Francis. In it I found stories of St. Francis passed on as insights to who this medieval saint was. They portrayed him as a troubadour, singing int he forests of his time. He is the saint it seems for rich people who have yet to realize there is no joy, no satisfaction in accumulation of wealth, there is only an abyss, an emptiness that lavish, hectic lives cannot erase.  The idea picture of St. Francis of Assisi that then emerged was that of a man that converted from having all to having nothing, being a young bachelor with enviable parties to embrace being ridiculed and outcast. He had found the peace, joy and purpose he knew he could never find otherwise and was willing to pay any cost, not to let that satisfaction of communion with Christ out of his experience.

So through my reflection on the transfiguration, on the heavenly moments of being bathed in love and clear of purpose, I came to find St. Francis who having such clarity of conviction and such a complete conversion he saw joy no matter the cost in being able to share the hardship of service and love with Him.

Feeling like I was again understanding St. Francis, I returned to his reread his words and then am confronted, not with St. Francis love of Jesus and desire to be with Him, but rather, I suddenly see the face of Jesus who loved us so dearly, who understood and loved us so deeply that he did not want to separated from us. He gave his life to make His salvation ours. He burst open the gates of heaven that we may know and love and be one with Him and the Father in eternal glory.

In this entry I retell with a few touches of my own, a challenging and beautiful Good Friday Retreat lecture given by our dear Fr. Vega. I beg forgiveness if my retelling does not do him justice. I for one, just wanted to keep the ideas safe somewhere so I could someday share them with my kids.

For all the students out there: It is not once a year, and it did not just happen 2,000 years ago.

Let us begin by exploring the death of a philosopher. A mother and her four year child enter the supermarket. As they begin to walk the aisles she hears an urgent plea, “Mommy, mommy, look! Look!”. “No, not now” she replies as she tries to remember what is needed. Not five minutes have passed when in a very different area she again hears the little voice cry out: “Oh, wow! Mommy, look! Let me tell you! Please!” Time is ticking and she assumes she knows whatever it is he is marvelling at is another candy, another gimmick, so she flatly repeats “No, not now!” She is thinking to what she will cook that night, reviewing what she has cooked that week. She is rushing so that she is not late to pick up her other kids at school avoiding the heavy traffic leaving school. As she enters the milk and ice cream aisle, she again hears “This is awesome, Mommy, you got to see this! Mommy! Mommy! Look!” She is lost in thought trying to quickly plan her week so she wont have to return to the supermarket for a couple of days. At his insistent demands she finally says: “Quiet! Be quiet!” She finally reaches the cashier only to again hear “ooooh Mommy! Mommy let me tell you something.” is “Shhh be quiet!” she sharply replies with a hinted threat. “But why?” Finally loosing her grip on the situation she smacks him and states “because I said so!”

We have lost the capacity to wonder, to marvel and we shush it and kill it in the next generation whenever we silence the questions and rebuke the opportunities to dialogue and share the simple joys and wonders of a child. When we loose the ability to be amazed, surprised or wonder we are for all practical purposes dead. We may be biologically functioning but we have severed the conection to the awesome wonder of creation.

We are stuck mired in death and perhaps have locked ourselves into aour own hell. Mired in despair but rejecting the Joy that Easter is all about. So I go back tot he initial question, when is Good Friday? Probably for many of us, it was some day in our past, maybe it was yesterday, or this morning or maybe it is to come tomorrow. We have our own Good Fridays that are not unconnected to what happened to Jesus on the his way to Calgary. When we taste the humiliation, when we are unfair victims of wrongful judgement, when we experience loneliness and face death we share His cross.

A victim of jealousy, mocked for our morals and unable to find the words to defend ourselves we have are experience our Good Friday. Darkness has its hour when we are alone in our travails, alone faicing illness, disfigurement, death, caring for a loved one without hope of recovering, we are facing or own Calgary. When we are tied down in our freedom, when innocence and duty are seen as weakness and what we would want for ourselves we have to give to others, we are feeling Good Friday. When we face the inadequateness of self expressino, simphonies of silence, pain of knowning that mosto f what is best of us, what we know and can give will die with us we are feeling Good Friday. When we are made to feel shame for what we believe in, be comforted, we are not alone, we are feeling what Jesus felt on Good Friday. When you feel your youth leave, when we taste frailty and feer abandonment, our inevitable aging, our lack of fulfillment is our burden in our stations of the cross. We know this dark hour, we know Good Friday when all seems to fall apart and all we can do is wait. Wait for the darkness and death to have their hour. Embrace your darkness, but then GO BEYOND meet the darkness of the world. Become one, solidary with the darkness that colors the cries of mothers who have lost their children to senseless violence.

As we meet Good Friday we should strain to also hear the voices of this Day.

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”

Gospel of Luke 23:34

When you are able to transcend the humiliation of being wrongfully or senselessly victimized, overcome the loneliness and the frustration and still say “I forgive” you are at Calgary with Jesus.

Lay your burdens at Jesus’s feet on Calgary and hear him say,

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Gospel of Luke 23:43

These words are meant to comfort you, an invitation to go on. Where and how do we experience Paradise? Look at Mary, in her frailty and strength, the terrible sadness of witnessing the death of her Son. The pain of the Son that has recognizes he is the cause of pain to his Mother.

“Jesus said to his mother: “Woman, this is your son”.
Then he said to the disciple: “This is your mother.”

Gospel of John 19:26-27

We are urged to take care of one another.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Matthew 27:46 and Mark 15:34

Jesus shares our humanity, he is Son of Man and as such faces death and despair, like we do when we experience Good Friday. In our Creed there is a single line that has created what a lot of recent reflection “And he descended into Hell”, it used to be explained as a statement that Jesus went to Limbo to save all the souls that had been waiting there since Adam. Now the Church in its Theology of the Descent to Hell, understands that Jesus in his humanity experienced Hell, like we do when we lock ourselves away, loose hope and turn away into a cycle of despair. Jesus was there too. We think God’s love will not reach us that we are beyond being saved, but there is NO Place where God’s infinite love does not reach. It is the unconditional love that saves, not our actions or our doing.

“I thirst”

Gospel of John 19:28

In a reaffirming statement of his human life, Jesus recognzies his needs. He places his demand at our feet. Death is inevitable but it is a call to share your needs and serve one another, even when living the darkest hours.

When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished”;
and he bowed his head and handed over the spirit.

Gospel of John 19:30

Upon being served by another, Jesus accepts the end of his physical life.

Jesus cried out in a loud voice,
“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”:

Gospel of Luke 23:46

Jesus sends forth his Spirit which will live on after death. In Jesus’ death the voice of the Innocent lives on. Resurrection is in the voices that live on. Jesus’ death was on a lonely hillside. Disciples had left. A death in humiliation and powerlessness becomes showered in powe rand dignity that echoes in time. Upon His Resurrection his disciples’ declaration of faith, their creed can be summed in one line: Jesus is Lord. The Task we are given each Easter is to rekindle the creed with us. To strain to listen to the voices of Good Friday in our lives.

The information age has trapped us in cubicles, then given us electronic interfaces and firewalls to the point that we all endure Calgary alone. We are unable to serve each other or witness the thirst in each other. The Joy of Easter is reduced to bits and bytes, a shallow animated image with words that have become shallow and trite MIME. If you have lost your sense of wonder and are among the many walking dead, this Easter acknowledge your Stations of the Cross, embrace your Good Friday and when you meet Jesus in Calgary find your way back to the joy and wonder of Easter by celebrating together in a community tending to the needs of each other and declaring with joy that Jesus is Lord.

Like Adam Smith’s invisible hand that balanced the markets  by controlling demand and production rates without any specific intervention, the invisible hand I address is invisible because its agent is not a specific entity. The change it brings about in the market is not controlled or dictated by one source it is rather one based multiple sources with varying designs and needs that have a direct impact and control on the market.

Selling dependence is not against the law, it does however exploit and benefit a relationship of inequality without social conscience. My treatment of social conscience requires that I define it to minimize the knee jerk reaction that triggered by a hypersensitivity to anybody that might be advocating a specific religion or set of values. Social conscience is the activity of reflecting upon the ideals held for society, social interaction, social structure and the values that are the underpinning or structure that make that ideal society possible, this is then followed by the analysis of consequences of actions taken in the smallest and largest scale, how does this purchase or this contract advance the ideals or change social interaction in the present or near future, what values are being advocated. Social conscience may well vary from region to region and regardless of that variation it should be present in the decision making process of consumers and markets.

The green movement or debate on sustainable economy are examples of active social reflection designed to impact the free market. The rule of purchase is not just lowest price nor quality but also social impact. To the extent that these philosophies are advocated by governments, they are locally visible to each region but less so on the global scale.

Other examples of social thought impacting market development can be found in the communities interested in retaining small and medium sized local businesses and setting up barriers to the entry of Walmart. It can be argued that these local battles did not affect Walmart’s corporate bottom line, for it grew in spite of it. However, the community that put up fight gained in self definition, public debates of who they are and where they are going.

Our world is changing. The fabric of society is changing by our willing reliance on government bureaucracy and consumerism.

I am advocating an embracing of free markets, where we actively examining relationships of power, individual values and ideals we hold for social interaction. The description of large companies as being multinational has invited in the past comparison of companies with  nations-states.  Able to elude the restraints of social contracts with any one government or community, these global companies provide their employees a new identity that transcends national identity and offers a new citizenship that affords a certain power and access to managerial employees on a global playing field.  The literature regarding corporations as nations serve as a starting point for the current exploration into the relationships of power and the freedom of association and self determination.

Free markets may just impel humanity forward if the invisible hand of social conscience is reinforced. I use the metaphor of invisible hand as a way to communicate that there is no one visible structure coordinating its effect. It is rather the unintended consequence of many different actions whose worldview, needs and demands may be different but have a concerted effect on the development of free enterprise. But underlying the description of this free market vision is the notion that the individual agents are free and exercise their freedom of choice in a setting where knowledge and inquiry are openly available to them.

I understand that associating technology giants with technological imperial powers may sound like I am advocating for a non-capitalist world or that I am against success. This would be an erroneous leap in judgement. As an entrepreneur I believe in free market competition. What I am speaking about however is the reproduction of inequality under the false guise of empowerment.

The following is an example of a multinational presentation to local government agency. 

The case in point was Microsoft’s presentation of Multipoint at a teacher’s training event offered to public school teachers.  The notes are personal notes taken at the event.

Personal Journal Entry

I am here at the the Multipoint Sales and Teacher Training event. The greeters at the registration to the event were dressed in school uniforms. As I walk in I catch the last portion of the welcoming remarks by the Auxiliary Secretary of Academic and Community Services of the Department of Education.  She speaks of the importance of integrating innovation in the curriculum and the need for updating the technology infrastructure in order to better prepare the next generation for the demands of the information economy and improve the competitive advantage the region offers multinationals. As she concludes her remarks she surprises me with a clear sales pitch and endorsement for Microsoft as their partner that will make this need for better integrating technology in the curriculum happen.  As she returns to her seat I greet her and ask her for her remarks, but seemingly uncomfortable at the prospect she declines.

The meeting hall had 2 huge screens where Microsoft documentary-style ad campaign for Multipoint is presented.  The ad campaign features 4 test sites for Microsoft Multipoint, all of them in developing nations.  When talking about the case study they refer to the a local public school where they installed the Microsoft Multipoint services.  Interviews of teachers and students color the film in a personal telling of change and hope.  The English language presentation that follows is offered by Microsoft’s Education Services Latin America Vice President. The conference introduces the “innovation” of using thin clients.

Noteworthy quotes, these are actual quotes:

“Collaborating”: is putting documents on a public access folder.
“Inspiring students is getting them new computers.”

I am surprised that the presenter did mention limitations to the technology:

– “Multipoint does NOT resolve the issue of legacy educational applications that don’t run on Vista or Multipoint.”
– “Does not integrate with laptops.”
– “Multipoint technology is meant for sharing the users on a table setting.” Use in settings farther apart than a shared table are not intended and are not available.

Imperial Discourse Reaffirming Technologically Colonized Status of People

The conference I witnessed was a masterfully planned overpowering presentation that communicated modernity, wealth and global perspectives.  It was presented as a training event and yet there was no hands on use, no manual, no questions from the audience during the short moments of cursory instruction. The lack of actual student, instructor interaction reinforces the fact that the event was primarily a sales event.

The sales event dressed in the robes of yearning for quick easily purchasable solution that will provide technological empowerment and innovation among students, effectively sold those illusory robes. Illusory, because teachers were taught, there was no learning there was convincing argument for a sale.  The documentary also claimed the success of the technology innovation program at the local public school, which had embarked on an independent technology project years before the new technology was integrated as part of the success of Microsoft Multipoint.  The Department of Education was proud to see its achievement shared globally, though it dismissed the new philosophy and approach developed by a local academic researcher before MS became involved.

After the sales is completed the dependency is reinforced because a solutions was sold but no discussion of actual transfer of knowledge was presented. The lack of knowledge on how to use the tool reaffirms the clients incapability and need for the supplier.

The robes that make the wares of this sale, can furthermore be described as illusory because they are speaking of thin clients as being new, when they have been around, in fact before the personal computer revolutionized the market. More recent success cases for thin clients include the well publicized deployment of linux based thin clients in 2001 the Municipality of Largo, Florida, which remains 9 years later as a positive change in their technology infrastructure. (REFERENCES: http://www.largo.com/egov/docs/1220878017329.htm )

On the topic of remote use and equipment that can be used, today many companies implement Google style remote desktops to access their work sessions remotely and the range of possible hardware can be described as “if it can run and can be plugged in it works”.  This is option is much more robust than plug it in and share if its on the same table.

On the topic of “inspiring students” I strongly believe that TEACHERS inspire and the opportunity to create and produce inspires students, NOT a new shiny computer. Alluding to purchasing new  computers as inspiring students is not dissimilar to believing that a diamond ring communicates commitment, a car love and trust or spending will help stem an emotional depression. In all these instances the psychological impact of quick achievement induced by purchasing helps blind the relationship between source and symbol.  Though the item purchased is a symbol it is promoted effectively as an icon to the point of negating its existence  of the source  if the symbol is not present.

Alternative Robes

If we demystify computers and render them like hammers. They are a tool. Ideally a tool that can be reused for years to come, but that will not on their own build a house or give the builder the plan to follow. The key to a good home or successful construction project is therefore not in the tools necessarily but more importantly in the knowledge that is put into place in the drafting of the plan.

In the spirit of recycling, it is great that Multipoint saves in energy costs, but even better that the Department of Education  could recycle 3000+ computers from other agencies and the thousands of computer components that are in the books but were rendered “inoperable” because they could not run the newer operating systems. Making accessible new technologies using thousands of existing computer elements gives physical representation to thinking outside the box.  Breathing new life and new use to existing components communicates resourcefulness and ingenuity.  Teaching by example is a powerful educational strategy. It invites students to look beyond the existing market limitations and wonder what could I do with what I have rather than discard it?

This course of action is not new.  The region of Extremadura in Spain facing budget crisis in 2002 decided to implement linux workstations and made it possible to place tens of thousands of computers. Eight years later that decision can be traced as a turning point that inspired economic development in the region.  The local Ministry of Education suddenly had needs for new solutions and new local companies were formed to meet the demand.  In a few years Extremadura became known as one of the centers of information technology innovation.  The Extremadura experience has provided a slew of Spanish language open source curriculum.

More recently, using more modern hardware, the Ikastola School System of the Spanish Basque Autonomous Community  has moved to using electronic textbooks.  This solution is also open source. Along with the Largo, Florida example of thin clients and the electronic books in the Basque Region, the field is set for new examples of technology integration to be set where use of technology does not preclude an annual licensing fee.

Las maestras del prekinder de mi hijo, Javier Ignacio, deseaban presentar historias de tradiciones navideñas de diferentes partes del mundo. Para ello invitarom a padres y madres a compartir sus experiencias o conocimiento.  Con una mezcla de alegría y ansiedad ante la responsabilidad de representar algo que he atesorado en mi recuerdo pero que es vivido como tradición anual por cientos de miles…ofrecí hablar con estos pequeñines sobre el Olentzero.

En preparación al día de mi presentación busqué en el Internet sin gran éxito una versión de la historia del Olentzero que recogiera los cuentos que me ofrecieron durante mi estadía en Euskadi. Pero a mi pesar gran parte de lo que encontré enfocaba en la investigación de raíces paganas del Olentzero y en la recreación del cuento del Olentzero aislado de la celebración de la Navidad.  Aunque reconozco el valor de recrear y salvar las raíces vascas que precedieron la llegada del Cristianismo, no es menos cierto que la historia y la tradición del Olentzero son ejemplo de sincretismo, o dicho de otro modo ejemplo de la fusión cultural que es de esperarse en la historia pueblos en contacto con otros pueblos ya sea por vecindad, agresión o comercio.  El cambio es parte natural de todo ser humano y de los pueblos por eso me parece que  Olentzero sin Navidad o Navidad sin Olentzero no me parece representar al pueblo vasco de hoy.  Pero a falta de encontrar una historia que recogiera los temas cristianos que me fueron narrados, proveo a continuación mi versión del Olentzero a modo de honrar mi recuerdo de la tradición.

Olentzero

Esta es la historia, según me acuerdo, del Olentzero, un ser muy querido por el pueblo vasco. Allá las historias comienzan “Behin batean…” por acá en las Américas decimos:

Érase una vez, allá para los tiempos cuando los bosques eran lugares de misterio y magia. Dicen las leyendas que en los bosques vascos vivían hadas,  “prakagorriak” que quiere decir pantalón rojo en la lengua de los vascos y eran unos duendecillos pícaros conocidos por sus pantalones rojos, hablaban también de gigantes y otros tantos personajes fantásticos.  Las personas vivían en poblados pequeños y evitaban adentrarse al bosque, a excepción de los pastores y carboneros que pasaban gran parte del año fuera del poblado andando por las montañas y bosques. Cuentan que al llegar al pueblo los pastores y carboneros solían contar las peripecias y hazañas en el bosque.

Algunos dicen que el Olentzero era un pastor, otros dicen que era carbonero. Siempre que he visto imágenes de él lo he visto sentado o arrimado a una bolsa de carbón así que creo que la evidencia apunta a que era carbonero. En aquellos tiempos los carboneros vivían en chozas adentrados en el bosque. Durante el año trabajaban allí cortando árboles y partiendo el tronco en pedacitos para enterrarlo y hacer carbón vegetal.   Cuando entraba el frío del invierno y las noches se hacían cada vez más largas los carboneros bajaban al pueblo con su carbón en una gran bolsa.

Dicen que en un principio al Olentzero no le gustaban los niños y era algo gruñón. Quizás era porque al ver a este hombre de gran tamaño, barrigón, despeinado y manchado con tizne, se burlaban de él.  A nadie le gusta la burla y por eso quizás el mal humor del Olentzero para aquel tiempo. Todavía hoy día, cientos de años después, en la canción del Olentzero que se canta en el País Vasco cantan pedacitos de estas burlas. La canción habla de un cabezudo de poca inteligencia, barrigón y sucio. El Olentzero no era como decían las burlas. El era un hombre bueno y trabajador.  Pero les aseguro, que aunque así eran las cosas antes, el Olentzero, como escucharán, llegó a ser y es muy querido porque una buena noche todo cambió.

El Olentzero se econtraba en su choza en las montañas cuando de momento vio una luz extraordinaria llenar el cielo de la noche. En el resplandor sintió una voz que le decía: No habrá porqué temer. Ha nacido en Belén el hijo de Dios hecho hombre. Su vida sembrará amor y esperanza en la tierra.” Algunos dicen que la voz fue la de una hada, otros dicen que fue la voz de un ángel que entre los pastores de Belén incluyeron a nuestro carbonero en la buena noticia de esa noche.

Impactado por tan especial visita el Olentzero sintió su tristeza desvanecer y la alegría contagiosa nacer, pero no sabía que se esperaba de él. Al amanecer, el Olentzero salió a caminar a ver que había de diferente en el mundo. Buscaba entender aún el mensaje de aquella noche. En su largo caminar se dio cuenta que del bosque habían desaparecido el misterio y la magia. En su camino no divisó hada o ni gigante.

Tanto caminó, buscando entender, que llegó a un lugar que no había visitado antes. A lo lejos vio una casa en la que vivían muchos niños al cuidado de unos pocos adultos.  Para evitar la burlas el Olentzero se quedó observando desde lejos lo que allí pasaba.  Era un hogar para niños huérfanos. El Olentzero, quien de por sí era huérfano, se sintió conmovido de ver tantos niños que hubieran estado solos como él pero que tuvieron la suerte de tener este hogar.  El Olentzero volvió varias veces a ver a los niños jugar. Pero un mal día el Olentzero llegó y vio como el hogar ardía en llamas. Sin pensarlo dos veces, el Olentzero corrió a socorrer a los niños.  El trabajo del Olentzero requería que fuera grande y fuerte, y lo era, probablemente por eso logró salvar a todos los niños.  Agradecidos todos en el hogar le invitaron a venir más amenudo. El Olentzero aceptó la invitación y les ayudó a reconstruir la casa.  Así nació el amor del Olentzero por los niños. Ver a los niños jugar le hacía feliz.

Cuando no estaba en el hogar visitando, y había terminado de trabajar, el Olentzero pensaba en cómo ayudar a los niños. Por las noches comenzó entonces a tallar y construir juguetes de madera para obsequiar a los niños. Descubrió en este pasatiempo una pasión. Al año siguiente, cuando tocaba ir al pueblo a llevar el carbón, el Olentzero fue con carbón pero también con juguetes para los niños. Para su sorpresa en el pueblo ya sabían de su hazaña con el hogar de niños. Ese año lo recibieron todos en la calle como héroe que era. El a cambio venía a traer juguetes para los niños.

En el pueblo el Olentzero se reunía en las tavernas a hablar con los padres y cuando no los niños le pedían cuentos fantásticos del bosque. Pero esta vez, el Olentzero no tenía cuentos de hadas o duendecillos que contar. En vez les habló de la luz, la voz y la noche en la que su vida cambió.  Así fue cómo la noticia del nacimiento de Jesús llegó de boca de un humilde carbonero que bajaba al pueblo a saludar una vez al año. Un carbonero barrigón, con piel tiznada pero con una alegría contagiosa que compartía con los niños mediante pequeños obsequios en la Navidad.

Hello my name is Olaia…..

My name comes from the Basque country. My mom and dad chose it when they lived in the Basque county and found out they were pregnant. They looked at many names on a list but in the end they thought Olaia was the prettiest. When you ask the people in the Basque country what my name means, many are not shure. But some people might say it means place of manufacturing. They will give you examples of last names for example: Olasagasti means a place where they take the apples and turn it into cider and Olaberría means a new workshop. The people from Cataluña believe Olaia comes from the name Eulalia.

Before there were newspapers stories were told out this little 12 year old girl called Eulalia. She lived in Cataluña 300 A.B. Back then the rulers were Romans and the Romans believed in many gods. It was against the law to be Christian. Eulalia believed in one God,our Father, and Jesus Christ. A judge called her to the court because Eulalia was converting many people. The judge was trying to convince Eulalia that believing in God and Jesus was wrong but she refused to deny God or Jesus. They argued for many weeks, but in the end the judge sentenced Eulalia to death.

The story of Eulalia was told by many people and slowly the name may have changed to Olaia.

When I think of my name I like the feeling of having a unique name. I also like my name because Eulalia. Eulalia was young like me but she was really courageous and wise.  I hope to be like her….but live a long life.

Olaia

Kathryn

A NAEP report published by the IES in 2007 assessed academic achievement of Puerto Rico’s public schools in Mathematics to be, on average, 50% below the national average by the time students reach the fourth grade. This disparity continues as students reach the eighth grade. It is estimated that Puerto Rico’s educational system lost access to $60 million in Reading First Programs under No Child Left Behind after failing to provide a curriculum that could be approved.

In the most recent study of Internet use on the Island (Puerto Rico Internet Pulse 2008), 38% of the population 12 and older connects to the Internet. Of this group, 15% does not cite the availability of home based connections. The study suggests that this latter group uses access points and computers at school or at work to navigate the web. This information is in stark contrast to the assessment realized by the Library and Information Systems Program of the Puerto Rico Department of Education.

In December 2006, April and May 2007 the Library and Information Systems Program of the Puerto Rico Department of Education conducted a survey among public schools and municipal library users and determined that ·”libraries need (1) to increase the public’s use of technology by increasing electronic capacities of libraries and training librarians and the public to effectively use technology” and secondly, “ (2) public schools need strong school library media programs that will support the academic success of Puerto Rico’s students. However, when the report was published in 2008, its assessment states that nearly 30% of the Puerto Rico public schools do not have adequate technology resources and 85% of public school libraries are said to need urgent renovation of media and technology equipment.

Over 78% of Puerto Rico’s public school students are below the poverty line. For this population, public schools are the first, and often only place, with access to computers. When the reality of Puerto Rico’s public school libraries is considered, it provides a powerful argument for why over 60% of the population 12 and older do not have access to the Internet and can be considered technologically illiterate.

The digital divide, herein described, alongside the recurring under-performance of public school students portrays a population at risk of being systemically disenfranchised from economic opportunity and social advancement. In order to effect change in the short term, a multi-pronged approach that combines innovation in the curriculum, improvement in the technology resources, and ongoing training of the human resources that will manage and interact with the new technology and curriculum changes.

Under the American Recovery and Rehabilitation Act (ARRA) the Federal Government makes funds available to Educational Regions for the modernization of school infrastructure, education reform for underachieving schools, “innovation and improvement” in education, improving data systems and data coordination efforts, ongoing education of teachers in support of school reform and innovation, integration of technology in education and initiatives advancing the learning of math and science. Furthermore, the Federal Government has renewed its commitment to Reading First Programs and has grant programs that focus on the development of libraries and early literacy initiatives.

The Puerto Rico Department of Education has identified problems with the passive integration of educational software in any given class. Computers identified for specific classes and software use are usually made unavailable for other classes to use. Furthermore the breakdown of any computer seems to not only inconvenience the teacher but also the school and negatively taints students and teachers relationship with technology, leaving an impression of disempowerment and lack of control.

The moment is right for making change happen. The proverbial ball is in our court.  Teachers, students, parents, administrators and the community at large all need to come together to bring about change.  Not just change to ease the immediate flow of funds, but the kind of change that transforms us all in the process. Teachers raising the bar on their performance, students growing in focus and commitment, parents with a renewed faith and joy in the school in of their children. Change is never easy but it  is possible we are open to it.

I remember very vividly the first time I met Uncle Gerry. We were not blood relatives, I was inheriting his acquaintance alongside many other aunts and uncles and cousins by virtue of being married to Jim. We were in at Mom’s house in St. Louis, Uncle Gerry and Aunt Jane and their two kids were visiting, as was I.  The kids were running around exploring the yard. Mom, Jane, Gerry and I were in the family room looking out at all the activity.  I mentioned to Gerry I was studying Anthropology and his quick reply was "My son Adam just loves dinosaurs. Well he even knows all the different periods and types of dinosaurs that walked the Earth."  I took a step back and admired the amazing love and pride for his son that poured out of this man. I thought to myself, I wanted that some day. My thoughts then quickly went back to the conversation as I added "Well you just might have an archeologist on your hands! It is a beautiful thing when one has a passion and a drive so early on." I could see the father entertaining that briefly before adding, "who knows?.."

Heck! I thought, I don’t even know the names to all the prehistoric eras or half the names of all the dinosaurs.  It was in honor of this singular moment that later that year, as Jim and I drove by Dinosaur National Park in Colorado, I purchased a laminated huge diagram that mapped the evolution of many species from through the different periods to modern day fish, reptiles, birds and mammals. Secretly, I wanted to be ready, shore up on my prehistoric evolution just in case Adam ever came to visit. To this day, I have this poster in a safe place.­

I felt so blessed and thrilled to be inheriting so many new exciting and fun people. I looked forward from then on to meet the rest of the family. Over the years I had the pleasure of visiting my new extended family in Michigan.

The next time I saw Uncle Gerry was during my first trip to Michigan. I was pregnant with my first born.  It was the summer of 1998.  Gathering at his house with all the aunts, uncles, Grandma and all the cousins felt so right.  It was to become a secret pleasure of mine when we went up North.  All the family under one roof, talking, debating arguing, laughing, it was a literary moment, and more poignantly, it was immensely fun.

Speaking of fun, I made another mental note when I visited Gerry and Jane’s house that first time: "I want someday to have the same joy Uncle Gerry had showing us around his house." At this point in my life we had not had a home to call our own. But seeing Uncle Gerry pin point all the little things he had designed, wired, built and made. It just seemed fun.

Looking back, I can only imagine Uncle Gerry in mid story with the corners of his mouth smiling as he talked.  He exuded such passion and love for all he touched and did. I saw it when he talked about his kids, when he interacted with Aunt Jane, when he talked about the sound system and lights in his house.  He was a rare mix of laid back and passionate zest with a twist of enginerd.  

His passion was contagious. for every time I spent time with Uncle Gerry and Aunt Jane, I was left wanting to make sure I knew my dinosaurs, wanting to tweak it our house to be our home, and wanting to have my home echo with the lively chatter of friends and family.  I look back and  it seems clear that he loved deeply and it shined through for us all to see. The world needs more examples as evident, as memorable.