He talked about a present day school system that was designed for our early 1900s agricultural society. At Dr. Perry’s magnet school, Capital Prep, in Hartford, Connecticut, the previously lowest performing district in the state, 100% of the middle/high school students now go on to college.

There is simply no access to this society – period – without access to quality education.

Thank you, Richland, for inviting me. I enjoyed the mix of academic, business, city and community participants.

Another group of pre-schoolers was taking a walk and saw a sign in a store window that said, “Men wanted.” They asked their teacher if they could stop and talk to the store’s owner. They told the man (who as you can imagine was surprised to be visited by 15 four-year-olds) his sign was unfair to women. The owner changed his sign to read: “Job available.”

When did we lose that ability to speak up and to believe we could make a difference?

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used:

Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter, television personality and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex issues of social justice. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” For a copy of a free teleseminar with Susan, go to www.susanohalloran.com

A teenage girl was visiting the United States from Ethiopia. She complained that Americans were “so rude.”

“Why do you think Americans are rude?” she was asked.

“Because we went to the swimming pool and five or six girls asked me, ‘How do you stay so thin?’ I was so shocked and upset I had to leave.”

In America, a statement such as “How do you stay so thin?” isn’t even a request for information as much as a compliment. However, coming from Ethiopia where plumpness is the most desirable physical body type (ya’ gotta love it!), the girl was insulted by the question.

Here’s another example. Some Europeans have commented that Americans are rude because they’ve noticed that we often whistle as well as clap at large public events. In parts of Europe, whistling after a concert means that the audience disapproved of the performance.

Other visitors to America have commented on how “dirty” Americans are. Some Japanese people, for example, consider Americans to be dirty because, when we take a bath, we clean ourselves in the bath water and then soak in the same water. To some Japanese taking a bath that way makes no sense at all. In Japan, it’s the custom to shower and clean first, then get into the bath to relax.

Some people find the American way of waiting in line to be quite impractical. If someone were waiting in a post office line, for example, and had to fill out a label, everyone behind her would have to wait. In other countries, people crowd around a service window so that many transactions can be going on at once. While you’re filling out your label, someone else is paying for his or her purchase and so on. Many Americans would see this “crowding” as chaotic and would complain that people aren’t taking turns.

Take one other area of communication ­– gestures. In France what we would call the “okay” sign means something or someone is worthless. It means that they are a zero. In Japan, the same gesture is the sign for money. In parts of India, rocking the head from side to side doesn’t mean “No.” Instead it means, “Yes, I’m listening.” Some cultures teach that looking directly at someone is a sign of respect. Others teach just the opposite: to show respect, never look a person of authority in the eye.

Even if you don’t travel to other parts of the world, the fact is people from all over the globe live right here. We’ll want to understand one another because even people from similar backgrounds can misunderstand each other and experience cultural collisions. If some people can misunderstand American values, rituals and gestures so much, what might we be misunderstanding about them?

Hope you enjoyed the Olympics as much as I did!

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used:

Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter, television personality and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex issues of social justice. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” For a copy of a free teleseminar with Susan, go to www.susanohalloran.com

THE HABIT

During this holiday season, some of you may read or go see The Christmas Carol. In this play, the main character, Scrooge, bellows, “Bah! Humbug!” It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The more Scrooge told himself how miserable life was, the more miserable he became. He had developed the habit of a closed, inflexible and mistrustful mind. “Habit” may seem like a strange phrase to use, but think of other habits you have, such as brushing your teeth, washing your face or combing your hair. A lot of our habits have to do with taking care of our personal appearances. Well, the internal us, our minds, need some looking after everyday as well.

When disappointments come your way, after a grieving period, check your thoughts. Do you live by scripts that tell you life is “Bah! Humbug!” or do you live by scripts that help you to keep a realistic yet open mind toward life and other people? This isn’t about being in denial of life’s hardships or playing Pollyanna, it’s just that an optimistic, bigger picture attitude allows for more possibilities.

If you read stories about people who survive hardships, such as those who survive after capsizing at sea, getting caught in an avalanche or lost in the woods, you’ll see a pattern emerge. One thing that survivors seem to have in common is that somehow they are able to keep their minds open to the possibility of being rescued. They keep their faith alive and believe that things will eventually work out. Even though they’re in terrible situations, they allow new ideas and solutions to keep flowing through their brains.

We see through the lens of our beliefs systems. If we mesmerize ourselves with statements such as “Things will never change” or “I guess violence is inevitable” or “It’s just human nature not to get along” we’re likely to create a world that matches our deepest fears.

Someone once told me that cynics are just disappointed romantics. Sometimes the people who seem the most negative are the ones who care the most. They use their negativity to shield them from further hurts. And, let’s face it, sometimes caution and a bit of mistrust is just what’s called for.

The trick is not to get stuck, to be able to discern: is this a time for caution or a time to open to greater possibilities? If we know to expect, appreciate and address our pessimism, it won’t immobilize us. We need to know that as soon as we create a vision of what we’d like our life, our country or our world to look like, limiting beliefs will pop up. As soon as you plant a garden, weeds grow, don’t they?

Like a gardener with her hoe, we have to use imagination and creativity to weed out our limiting beliefs. We’re always going to have to weed the garden. If we tend the garden regularly, the garden will eventually flourish. After allowing myself time for a pity party when I was down last month, I started to weed out my despair and instead churn in some activating fertilizer. Imagine how my hopelessness (“Things never work out” “Nothing I do makes a difference”) changed to a sense of possibility by changing my self-talk. Here are a few activating beliefs I’m using these days:

• Real change happens out of the commitment of a few; I am one of those few.
• It’s my country. If I don’t do it who will? If not me, who?
• I educate myself and develop all the skills I need.
• The present world is a function of our thinking. If I want change, I start with myself and change my heart to a peaceful one.
• I build support person by person until I make an impact.
• I trust I will find and make my unique contribution.
• Small solutions lead to bigger solutions.
• The outcome is not my business. I do what I can do.
• Human decisions got us here. Nothing is inevitable. With intelligence and creativity, we’ll find our way.

The day-to-day (sometimes minute-to-minute) training of our minds to be open to our good strips us of apathetic malaise and puts us into the world of action, each of us then able to make our unique contribution to the cumulative process of transformation.

This feeling of being on the Outside can happen within any dimension of diversity but I want to talk today about the unconscious insensitivities that can happen between people who are able-bodied and those who are not. Disability awareness is stronger than when I was growing up. Today, we have wheelchair ramps, handicapped parking, sign interpretation and the like. Yet, still, people with disabilities get scores of messages each day that can unintentionally make them feel on the outside.

I have been very fortunate that a number of friends with disabilities have been generous enough to set me straight when I’ve been insensitive and about what respectful behavior looks like to them. I’d like to share some of the things I’ve learned. But please remember that one size does not fit all. We can only speak of general guidelines and guidelines can never take the place of asking an individual how he or she would like to be treated. Each person has individual preferences.

A few things I’ve discovered or been told:

• It’s okay to offer to help people, but don’t just grab someone’s arm, for instance, and start helping him or her across the street.  Ask first – before you touch someone or make a move. Or wait and be ready if someone asks you for help.

• Remember, just because a person has one disability doesn’t mean they have several. People who are blind, for example, can hear. It’s almost like a natural impulse, but we need to remember that there’s no need to talk slower or louder.

• If you’re talking to a deaf person who is using an interpreter, look at and address that person, not the interpreter, when you are talking.

• For most people in wheelchairs, if you can sit down and be eye level, that saves them from crooking their necks to talk to you. Imagine what it would be like to look up to talk all day long.

• Oh! And here’s a good tip. If someone has a Seeing Eye dog – that dog is on the job, working, so don’t pet or distract the dog from its job.

• It’s okay to ask people about their disabilities and it’s okay if they don’t want to talk about them. Remember, you’re just one person asking, but people, especially with visible disabilities, may get questions twenty times a day, the same questions day after day, year after year. You can imagine how tiring that can be. Questions are great and we can take on the task of educating ourselves as well.

• It’s okay when you’re talking to use words like “walk” or “run” or “Do you see what I mean?” Or “Do you hear me?” People with disabilities understand that these are habitual figures of speech and they often use them as well.

• If people have speech problems it’s okay to ask them to repeat what they said or ask them to write something down. Let them know by what you say, your tone, your eyes, your smile, your patience – that you really care to know what they’re saying.

• We can all be advocates for each other. One simple suggestion I’ve been given: don’t park in places reserved for people with disabilities. Also, when you go to a mall or other public places and see that it wouldn’t be accessible to a disabled friend, say something to the management.

• A number of disabilities cannot be seen. Be open to picking up the cues or asking how you can make whatever environment you’re in more comfortable for everyone. For example, your cologne or perfume could send someone into a reaction for weeks.

If you read this list and feel a little of “Why do we always have to be sensitive to their disabilities?” that’s okay. Just know those feelings signal that you are an Insider on this issue. All of us who have been the historical Insiders on a particular dimension of diversity will have times when we feel the previous Outsider group is getting “special preference” or attention. That’s because we’re unaware of how much we’ve been getting “special preference” all along and how much life is already set up for us.

All of us are Insiders some of the time – this is not about being good or bad people. It’s about becoming aware that when we’re on the inside by definition we will have blind spots. Everything around us reinforces that our way is right, best and “normal.”  It is not special preference to break down barriers to equality.

I’d really love to see us move beyond the question of rights and political correctness. Instead, let’s be truly “PC”, that is “Personally Caring”. Let’s turn our attention to how much we lose if any in our human family feels like outsiders and how much we benefit when we are able to receive everyone’s contribution. Each and everyone one of us is important. Each of us has a unique light. The world goes dark when any of us are not able to share our light, and the whole world brightens when we do.

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used:

Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter, television personality and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex issues of social justice. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” For a copy of a free teleseminar with Susan, go to www.susanohalloran.com

Q: A few of us at our college would like to perform stories around cultural differences similar to what you do in Tribes& Bridges and More Alike Than Not: Stories of Three Americans – Catholic, Jewish and Muslim. How do we get started?

A: If you are going to perform stories around race and issues of justice, be prepared for deep emotions to arise, yours and others. If you are going to work with others, besides all the difficult, nitty-gritty, normal collaboration issues of schedules and responsibilities, you will be faced with unique challenges precisely because we have been trained to keep quiet about issues of social significance.

First, talking about these issues often breaks many family rules. In order to survive, many families didn’t talk about what they’d been through. For example, after the Holocaust, the internment camps, the Boarding Schools, the Jim Crow mistreatments and lynchings, many parents enforced an unspoken, yet deeply felt, “No talk” agreement.

Speaking the unspeakable as well as even attempting multicultural colleagueship can feel like a betrayal to the people and communities from which we come. As you collaborate and discuss the care and nurturing of your audiences, you must do the same for each other.

Our hurts run deep. Tears will be shed; memories and, therefore, creation can be blocked; doubts will continually surface. We have to have a long and large love for our stories, our country and each other to keep going. Opening the wounds is never pleasant, but healing happens in the light of day.

However, open the wounds gently, gently, gently. Ground rules around support, communication styles and the like are essential. As in any relationship, talking out fears, limitations, preferences and visions beforehand can help make the uncovering process easier. Still, if you are hitting the true repressed veins of our individual and communal psyches, I would imagine your team will experience some of the things we did: fitful sleep, times of “I can’t do this,” and moments of incredible connection and freedom as we finally faced and spoke long-buried truths.

Good luck and let me know how I might support you!

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used: Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex (and, with Sue, entertaining) issues of social justice and valuing differences. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” Find out more about Susan and her online classes plus download a free audio interview at: www.susanohalloran.com.

Q: How did you get the people in your Kaleidoscope Discussion Videos to talk so openly? We’ve tried to interview people – to hear others’ stories – but I found most people don’t think they have much to share.

A: First of all, thanks to all who sent messages about the recent post of the Discussion Videos Promo.

I pre-interviewed over seventy people before I videotaped forty-two people’s stories for the Kaleidoscope curriculums.  You’re right. Often, people don’t know they have stories.  Sadly, they don’t think that their lives and their experiences are important.  They need to be drawn out.  Before I asked the interviewees one question around diversity, we talked about our families, neighborhoods, schools and so on. When some rapport was established, I asked questions such as:

• Who is your inspiration?  Where do you find hope and encouragement?
• What has your culture given you?
• Have there been times you were judged by appearances or stereotypes?  How did that make you feel?
• Have there been times you judged by appearances or stereotypes and, then, found out you were wrong?

At all times, I strived for balance, portraying the truth that we have all been both the insider and outsider.  I’m often an insider on race and physical abilities in this country, for example, but, sometimes, an outsider on gender or class.  I also strove for balance between examples of discrimination and models of inclusivity, knowing that we learn just as well, and sometimes better, from what is working.  Plus, when presenting our country’s hidden history around race, for example, we must be careful not to paint any group as victim (only), but to always include the magnificent stories of resistance and success as well.

To preview the Kaleidoscope Discussion Videos go to:

http://inspireaclassroom.com/?page_id=20

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used: Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex (and, with Sue, entertaining) issues of social justice and valuing differences. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” Find out more about Susan and her online classes plus download a free audio interview at: www.susanohalloran.com.

There was ironing my hair. Yes, I laid my head down on an ironing board like some wrinkled old shirt and came as close to my scalp as possible with a hissing, steaming hot iron. Only problem: I couldn’t get to the hair root so when I lifted my head off the board I had a circular two inch protuberance of bumpy, curly hair then straight pieces of locks jutting off the knob at a 45 degree angle with fried, split ends that hissed as loud as the iron.

Then there was Dippity Do. I slapped layers of the clear gop onto my bangs and then taped the whole sheet of hair to the rest of my face with scotch tape (I’m talking down my temples and onto my cheeks because the tape would only stick to skin, not more hair). I could just about hear the stuff crackle like Arctic ice as it dried through the night and, then, one by one, strands of hair broke free from the stiff, hardened gel to climb their way upward and backward into a natural, relentless curl. In the morning I awoke with a shelf of semi-straightened bangs that flipped at the ends making a trough in which I could have carried my pencils to school.

Then there were the empty orange juice cans used as curlers that lifted my head a half of foot off my pillow and gave a permanent tilt to my neck and head that looked kind of cute in my prom photos. And don’t forget the Spoolies which were my attempt to make my curls line up in neat rows. Spoolies were akin to sleeping on plastic cones of Medieval spikes but were actually more comfortable than lancing my hair with long, unyielding bobby pins and teetering on all those metal x’s. throughout my dreams. To say nothing of being woken from those dreams because I thought someone was in my room, only to discover the steirofoam head wearing my wiglet and sitting on my dresser staring at me.

So, yes, white girls go to great lengths to have fashionable hair as well.

There was a lot of talk on shows such as Oprah and The View about whether all the time, effort and money black women spend on their hair was a sign of wanting to be white and trying to “fit in”.

Both Whoopi Goldberg and Sheri Shepherd of The View, for the most part, argued “no.” They both said that black women, like all women, want to look nice and want a change from time to time.

I know that was part of my motivation. Growing up with curly, wiry hair limited the number of styles I could talk my hair into. Also, it is frustrating to decide on a certain look and spend a good deal of time creating it, only to step out and have the humidity snatch the whole thing within minutes. Yes, products start to line your bathroom shelves in order to exercise some meager measure of choice and control. Not to mention, sometimes, when my hair was long (down my back) and I wore it “natural” it just plain hurt to sleep on. The steel wool texture across my face or in my eyes was not like a lover’s caress and about as pleasant as being woken through the night because I’d forgotten to remove my hair shirt.

But there was a part to all of these machinations, at least for me, that was about more than just wanting to fit in with the latest styles. When I was a young adult, about twenty-three, I saw a movie made in Ireland. I do not remember its name to this day, but there was a young girl in it with long, red, wiry hair. I was looking at her on the screen, all of a sudden, I burst into tears. The words in my mind were, “Oh my God! I have Irish hair!”

Now, of course I knew I was Irish but, as crazy as this sounds, I never thought about having “Irish” hair as hair texture, not just color. First, as with all ethnic groups while there are similarities, no one group is all alike. (My brother did not have red hair; he was “black Irish”. He inherited the traits from the Spanish or prehistoric Iberians’ visit to Ireland – dark hair and dark eyes with his milk white skin.) But the whisper below the discovery “I have Irish hair” was the additional revelation: “And nothing is wrong with it. My hair is the way it’s supposed to be.”

In other words, in all those scenes of self-imposed torture throughout high school and into adulthood, my hair rituals and experiments were not merely a desire for variety, beauty and going with the fashion flow – which does seem innately human and even, in ways, self-loving; there was also a tinge of who I am is not okay, is less than. Some part of me felt that I was just plain not as good as all those girls with naturally straight, silky hair who could walk next to a beach or ride in a convertible and count on returning home, and after a quick comb, appearing much like how they looked when they had left (as opposed to my having to walk sideways through the front door because my hair was permanently four feet wide).

Hair, make-up, clothing – how I look – seems to be a mixture of self-caring and self-loathing. The gift of growing older is that the percentages have swung higher and higher toward the former. Learning to love ourselves and claim our beauty is a journey for women of all colors.

(P.S. This “mod” look from high school, 1968, probably took hours to create, complete with straightened hair and wiglet. For more on Hair see my blog post from September 11, 2009 “A Hair Brained Idea”.)

This article may be reprinted when this full byline is used: Susan O’Halloran is a story artist, workshop presenter and keynote speaker whose work explores the complex (and, with Sue, entertaining) issues of social justice and valuing differences. She is an author of four books plus diversity curriculums, CDs and films. The Chicago Reader says O’Halloran “has mastered the Irish art of telling stories that are funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.” Find out more about Susan and her online classes plus download a free audio interview at: www.susanohalloran.com.