| Monday, September 06, 2010 - Newsletter: Late again! |
Late Again!
Don't you just hate it when people are late! Yet what if your version of 'late' is someone else's 'on-time'? Next time you notice lateness, spare a thought for cultural background - theirs and yours.
Each culture has unwritten rules which indicate the appropriate time to arrive, even what time to leave. In some cultures it's fine to arrive up to two hours after the start time for a social event. In others, even ten minutes late is considered rude.
Think about it. If you invite guests to dinner for 7pm, what time do you expect them to arrive? Before 7pm? At 7pm on the dot? (I wouldn't be ready!) Is up to 30 minutes okay? What about two hours? At what point would you decide they weren't coming?
Working with many different cultures over the years has made me very aware of varying interpretations of time. The very savvy president of one local ethnic group now tells her community that meetings start at 4pm, even when they aren't actually due to start until 6pm. After several years of having kiwi guests arrive on time to wait in empty rooms, she knows that her own culture says being two hours late is quite normal. This way she gets everyone there when it matters.
Learning the rules in a new culture takes time, observation and an awareness that the expectations might be very different from your own. Like so many cultural norms, they are implicit, taken for granted and not generally found in guide books.
Food for thought
- Check other people's meaning of 'on time'
- Be clear about expectations
- If there is no room for flexibility, then say so
- If you set the time, make sure you stick to it yourself.
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Monday, August 23, 2010 - Newsletter: Good Grief |
Good Grief
Funerals are rarely easy. Most of us don't enjoy going to them, but we do so to support families and friends in memory of a loved one. Each service has its own special character, with that fine balance between sadness and treasured memory.
I've always thought it takes special skill to be the professional who guides families through the public process of grief and farewell. So it was interesting to find incongruence at a recent service.
What wasn't right? Smiles - lots of them. With absolute good intent, of course, warm, empathetic and encouraging. And completely out of sync with those who were gathered.
In another culture, in another group it might have been entirely appropriate. This time it missed the mark. The cultural norm here was for sombre faces, solemnly expressing their tribute. The service was mostly conducted in a language I don't speak (and nor, I suspect, did the funeral director). Grief, however, needs no shared words - the body language, the emotion and the dignity could not have been more eloquent.
I recalled the last funeral I attended in my family, with plenty of smiling greetings, plenty of crying over memories and plenty of joyous laughter. A marked contrast to this occasion. Not right or wrong, just different.
Are our observation skills always acute enough to notice that we might have it wrong? How do we learn what it takes to honour those special events that mark rites of passage in other's lives? How do we learn the protocols of a different culture?
Food for thought
Rather than seeking a checklist of dos & don'ts, try observing, checking your assumptions and asking questions such as:
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What would cause you discomfort?
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What would put you most at ease?
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Is my usual behaviour appropriate here?
That way you will honour the people and the occasion by ensuring that supporting roles complement rather than clash.
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Tuesday, August 10, 2010 - Newsletter: Coming Home |
Coming Home
For me, the best part of going away is coming home. The minute I catch a glimpse of Mt Kakepuku, whether driving or flying, I know that I'm home. That small cone, southwest of Te Awamutu links me to the land, reminds me of my roots, shows me where I belong.
Many of my migrant friends feel uncertain about where they belong. Going 'home', whether to Europe, Asia or Africa, doesn't feel quite the same. Family, friends, familiar places and memories are there, but going back is never the same. Things look, feel and sound different somehow. So they come 'home' to this adopted country, with their roots still newly finding a place in the landscape.
Several years ago, I watched as young Korean New Zealanders described, through art, what Korea meant to them. For some it was culture and traditions, for others, it was a flag and an aeroplane.
For each of us, belonging takes a different form. It might be a place or a time of the year. It might be people or certain things. It might be a sound or even a fragrance that triggers a sense of home. Whatever it is, you know when it is missing.
Food for thought
- Where is home for you?
- How do you know when you are home?
- What does it take to be truly at home in a new place?
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Wednesday, August 04, 2010 - Newsletter: Are They Talking About Me? |
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Are They Talking About Me?
Highly unlikely! But that was the concern of healthcare professional, Diane.
She was upset that two colleagues were speaking together in their first language in the tearoom, at lunch. Diane walked in on their conversation, they paused and then carried on. 'It was so rude', she said, I felt excluded'.
Really? She wasn't part of their conversation and Diane agreed that she had no grounds for believing that they were talking about her.
There are many reasons why we go back to first language. It's our default position. It enables us to talk about feelings and opinions, to relate humour, to use the nuances of language that are so much easier in our mother tongue. We are most comfortable in the familiarity of language that allows us to fully express our culture and our identity.
If that language use is not affecting health & safety, or productivity, or cost, or legality, then what's the issue? Why should speaking a different language be any more divisive than what we eat or wear, or what we do at the weekend? If the difference doesn't matter, then don't let it matter.
Food for thought
- Leave your mistrust behind
- Learn to be comfortable with not knowing what's being said
- Get curious about the language and culture of others
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Saturday, July 24, 2010 - Newsletter: Looking for the Good News |
Looking for the Good News
Two Saturday mornings spent with a large group of young Somali men and women has filled me with hope and confidence for the multicultural future of Aotearoa/New Zealand.
Armed with tertiary education and a desire to make a positive contribution, these young people are eager to learn to lead their community. Supported by their elders, the next generation holds a unique position straddling two cultures. In the forging ground of familiar language and culture they are gaining the skills and confidence to engage in the wider community. With many of them having lived most of their lives here, they are fluent bi-lingually and bi-culturally and bring a tremendous richness.
These are 'third-culture kids' - learning to blend the best of both cultures. They are painfully aware of the negative stereotypes that are portrayed of their community. Caught between two cultures can be a challenging place at times. It's the few who fall through the cracks, marginalised by not meeting the cultural values, behaviours and expectations of either culture, which most often make the headlines. Sadly, that's fuel for the anti-immigration lobby.
What does it take to belong? When does a person stop being a migrant or refugee? How much conforming do we need or expect? And anyway - whose version are we to conform to? A strong, dynamic society encourages us to bring all of our differences and grows from that diversity.
So look out for these bright, positive young people, they are bringing their enthusiasm, talents and contributions to a community near you.
Food for thought
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Monday, July 12, 2010 - Newsletter: Dont ask, dont tell? |
Don't ask, don't tell?
I was at the supermarket the other day, and watched as a youngster, aged about five, walked down the aisle behind his mum. He was holding the trolley, walking backwards, and staring at a Somali woman who was almost fully covered, apart from her eyes.
As I watched, the wee boy tugged at his mum's coat, saying in a five-year-old non-whisper, "Mum, look at that lady! Why is she wearing that funny dress? Where's her head gone?" The mum turned and realised the woman must have heard. Embarrassed, she hushed the boy and they moved quickly away.
It got me wondering about the messages we are sending when we tell children not to stare, not to ask questions and not to be curious about difference. The manners of five-year-olds aside, it is vital that we have these conversations to learn about each other.
Most discriminatory behaviour is based on limited contact and fear. By learning about difference, we build connection and understanding, and ultimately respect and appreciation. Kids learn from their parents, they pick up the attitudes you model and your willingness to be open to new understandings and ideas.
Food for thought…
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So, what new conversations might you start at home?
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How else might you respond to the child in the supermarket?
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What opportunities are you missing to teach and to learn?
Until next time,
Jenny
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| | Monday, June 14, 2010 - Newsletter: Sticks and Stones |
Sticks and Stones
So, a [blonde / Irishman / lesbian] walks into a bar and says...
By now you may have completed the sentence, and odds are it wasn't complimentary. If someone else told it, you'd be expected to laugh, to buy into the stereotype, to go along with the group.
Yet how often do we cringe at such stories and say nothing? Hardly surprising when the response is likely to be 'can't you take a joke?'. Laughing at ourselves is healthy, but laughing at others is demeaning. Words hurt and we often have no idea who is most damaged by them. A friend tired of endless blonde stories, a client overhearing inferred racism, a colleague with a gay family member.
Saying nothing implies that you agree.
Why not be the one to challenge the so-called humour that you hear? Start a movement. Speak up. You may be surprised at who stands with you.
Food for thought…
What can you say? Here are a few suggestions.
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Interrupt with 'Whoa! let's not go there!
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Say, 'I know you think that's a joke, but what about people here who might be offended?'
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Say, 'Do you really believe that stereotype?'
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Say, 'Ouch! I know [ xxxxx ] who aren't like that!'
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Say, 'Whatever!' and move away
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| | Tuesday, June 01, 2010 - Newsletter: Pay Attention |
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Pay Attention!
I spent a recent weekend in deep conversation with a dear friend. Without doubt the quality of our friendship strengthened as we paid close attention to each of us had to say.
Most of us have said, or heard, the phrase ‘Pay attention!’ at some time. The phrase itself speaks of duty and cost, but when we truly pay attention to another person, there is magic in the air.
When someone really listens to you, it seems you hear yourself better. You find your thoughts seem clearer and you choose your words more carefully.
When you feel heard, there is a sense that who you are and what you have to say genuinely matters.
So, when was the last time you gave someone the gift of a ‘darned good listening-to’?
Food for thought…
- Be present. Your body language speaks far louder than the words you say.
- It’s about them, not you. Hold back from anticipating what might be said next.
- Wait. Then wait some more. Leave thinking spaces. The really important stuff needs silence.
‘Til next time,
Jenny
Public workshops coming up
| Leading Volunteers |
3rd June |
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| Connecting Across Cultures |
16th & 17th June |
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| Taking nfp Meeting Minutes |
22nd July |
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