We demanded your obedience over honesty. We left you alone to navigate your way from adolescence without much support, understanding or mentoring, for there was no way to mentor a lie. We were clumsy with our language. We relied upon laying down the law rather than shepherding you into adulthood. You rebelled. In our frustration over your willful rebellion we issued threats of what would happen to you for failing to heed our advice. We concluded that if you would not listen then you would have to feel. We called you “hard headed”, and in truth you have been. You on the other hand had to rebel, had to shout to us to be heard. You wanted us to know that you were no longer a child to be dictated to.You needed transitional parenting, not the heavy handed variety we offered. What a dilemma we now find ourselves in.

This letter is to the women who are in love with “bad boys”. We won’t knit-pick over the definition of a “Bad Boy”. Suffice to say, the Bad Boys are the men who flirt with dangerous lifestyles.To the women who flirt with these men just for the “rush” you get from walking near the fire, this conversation is not directed to you, nor is this directed towards those who use their association with “Bad Boys” in order to impress friends and gain status.You are already getting the payoff you want.

I speak to those women who love these men. Perhaps you loved him long before he got “caught-up”, and you would never consider leaving him now. Perhaps you entered the fray to prove how much you loved him. It may be that you respect him for the good you see in him. He may be the best man you have ever met. He may be committed to being a great father and a man of his word. Whatever your personal story is, if you love him, then I wish to speak to you.

I would imagine that when you close your eyes and think of the two of you, you see a couple who are old enough and free enough to go wherever you choose.You have dreams of creating a life for yourselves. If you are still living at home surely you dream of having a place of your own, a place where the two of you create the kind of lives you want.You want to travel with him. You want him to look out for you. You want to know he is safe. You want to be able to plan things, you need someone to share the babysitting and the bills,in short, you want a life! You have to be alive to have a life. Your child deserves to have a father who is free, free from the group controlling him, free from worrying about the police looking for him, just plain free. Free to think about tomorrow, free to think about you. You want a man to look up to, a man with a dream and a love for his children so strong that he is committed to staying alive, more than proving how tough he is. You want a live man not a corpse, you want a wedding one day, not a funeral.

When you whisper in his ear what do you say? Do you love him enough to say the hard things? Are you in there fighting for the man you care about? Are you making plans, saving money to help him buy a ticket to the UK if that’s what it takes, or are you using the money he gives you to buy KFC every day, clothes you don’t need and jewellery? Are you sure you love him? Do you have a plan? Are you adult enough to know that the longer he stays connected to the lifestyle, the greater is the chance that he will die?

You have entered into the world of Women. I apologize for the failure of your elders to properly welcome you to this place equipped with all the tools you need. If we had found the courage to tell the reality of our story rather than dishing up a sanitized false view of ourselves, you would love us more and fight with us far less. Never- the- less we are here now, and it is from this place that we learn to understand ourselves and heal. We are not your enemy.

A woman who is loved by a man has great influence in his life. With this influence comes huge responsibility. What you say to him matters. How you say it matters. Why you say it matters. Take time out by yourself to think about what you want for your life, and what you really want to say to him. Once you have decided, you must do what is required of you.Do not say it to him at night, in the dark. Don’t say it under the covers or with a glass of wine or a refer in your hand. You must find the courage to stand up and say it in the cold light of day. Look him in the eye when you say it, not when he is watching television or texting his friend. Stand up for the future you want to share with him. He must hear you say that you will not stand by and wait for him to die.Tell him what he needs to hear, not what you think he wants to hear. All the crying at the funeral is wasted tears. Today is your day for courage and truth. Tell him you believe in him, that you know his good heart was made to do more than live this lifestyle. Love him enough to look him in the eye and say what must be said . Say it, and say it, and say it again.

Since writing “Nowhere to Run”, I’ve been inviting folks up to my studio to talk with me about how they’re feeling and how they see Bermuda’s social problems. I was amazed by the number of people who stopped to type a response. One woman in particular explained very clearly to me that “The Problem” is not linear. I knew it and I didn’t. Intellectually I knew it, but it’s easy to forget and lump everything together. I was very glad she reminded me.

I know that the conversations about our community are happening everywhere. If you find that your conversations leave you depressed or gloomy, most likely they need to be helped along with strategies which will change the ways in which we engage in the conversation.
One of the ground rules that you might employ to help ensure that things don’t degenerate into a blame-driven conversation may be to :

Ask : Do I own a part of the problem, any part at all?

Ask : What skills do I have?

Ask: How many hours per week do I want to give toward healing Bermuda?

Keep in mind that we are committed to being honest and not saying what we think others want to hear.

If anyone says he/she doesn’t feel that they are part of the problem, accept it and thank them for their honesty. We can’t ask people to be honest and then be unwilling to accept their answer.

I am suggesting that we can identify our skills. Based on the number of hours we each want to contribute, we can explore creative approaches to the healing process. I’m thinking of an online site where we contribute. I wonder what kinds of entrees we could cook up?
How would you like to employ your skills? What if collectively we were able to create an Information and Advice Centre? The advice and “How- To” could focus on issues like Making Homework time Enriching, Advice for Young Mothers, How to talk to Your Child, What to do when you recognize you or your child is out of control, How to Cook Smart, How to develop Cell Phone Rules, A Dad Help Desk and anything else that could enrich our lives. Learning to Spend Time Together. There are people who need what you want to share. The cool thing is, you probably don’t need to leave home to do this sharing. Wouldn’t it be lovely to contribute from home in your pajamas with a cup of hot chocolate in your hands? We don’t need to get bogged down in committees.

DON’T UNDERESTIMATE WHAT YOU HAVE TO OFFER

Some of us are great organizers who know how to create systems which bring order to our lives. Some of us are good at creating systems to help households run smoother. If chaos is running our homes, no wonder we don’t feel like going there at the end of the day. Your granny may not have a computer but she might have some advice she’d like to contribute, your contribution might be to be the scribe for her and submit it on her behalf.

Groceries are expensive. Do you want to share what cuts of meat you buy, how you cook and freeze dinners to eliminate the stress of having to cook every day? We have not all come from well run households. We lack certain skills. There are folks who would appreciate this kind of assistance. Retired teachers, may come on board, retired police, auto mechanics any and every one who has a desire to contribute.

We may develop an advice desk for Grandparents who find themselves in the role of custodial parents. They have unique needs. Who among us has something positive to share with them? This is about sharing successes, and useful information which will improve the quality of our lives. It’s not about going out there to “sort them out”. We are in effect sorting ourselves, and each other out, and it’s all web based, fluid, and virtually cost free.

We can help people we may never meet. We can be the community we hunger for. We can give anonymously. We can be a socially-conscious E-moo, or a Conscious-Minded Face Book. Your discussions may yield something completely different. I certainly am not wedded to any particular concept. I’ve written this because I believe that discussing what might be, what could be will allow us to step into a place of possibilities and out of fear and paralysis. We need to keep it simple and be excited. We have an opportunity to create something of purpose.

Thank you for reading Bermuda. Thanks for passing this on.

If  you were expecting this to be a rant it is not. This is a critical time in our island’s history and there is no room for words which  inflame  or exacerbate  the issues. I think that the way forward must have honesty and truth at it’s core.In short: WE MUST STOP LYING.

Lying may not seem to have much to do with the madness, but it does. We lie so much and so often that we cannot recognize the truth when we see it.  If we accept that what happens in the macro world (big world) happens also in the micro world (our homes), then there is no doubt about the fact that we have to begin by looking in  the mirror. We lie about important and unimportant things. We learned to lie at home and we teach lying in our homes. We do not  lie because we are bad. We lie because we are trying to avoid discomfort or pain. We lie because it’s convenient. We lie to save face. We lie because we don’t realize the damage that lying causes.The lie makes us dishonest and the dishonesty makes us defensive.

While we may be denying that we  are dishonest, our three and four year olds have no problem explaining to their teachers how and when we lied. It is very clear to them. Hey we all know we shouldn’t.  The problem with lying is that once we do it, we then have to justify having done it. We have to find a reason to make doing it right. Often this involves making someone else wrong. Are we  seeing any parallels between the lies we tell, how we have to justify them, and the madness out there in the streets?  They too are lying, and, like us, they  have to justify their behavior in order to continue doing what they are doing. i.e. If he had not done thus and so, I would not have had to  teach him a lesson. He brought it on himself. Granted the situations in the streets are exaggerated, but the principal holds true.Integrity, and trust cannot thrive in this climate.

Telling me when you need to tell her is a lie. Saying yes when you want to say no is a lie. Blaming is a lie. Failing to spend time with people you live with, while calling yourselves a family, is a lie.  Buying what we can’t afford is a lie. Thinking that supplying every member of the household with a cell phone means that you are staying in touch, is a lie. Saying that we cannot afford to support our children is a lie.

“Well Sharon this sounds like a rant to me!”
Well it isn’t. It’s just calling a spade a spade.
I have now stated what I see as the problem. If we are not careful we can get sidetracked into an academic debate  about lying, and I  really don’t want to go  there because that would be a distraction.Expecting our children and significant others to be truthful when we lie is unrealistic. It is for this reason that we must begin telling the truth.

WHERE AND HOW TO START
I am a recovering liar.As such, I do far less these days. I  acknowledge that sometimes I lie and am not conscious of doing so until later. I forgive myself for those times, I give myself a pat on the back every-time I consciously step up and tell my truth. I’m finding it  freeing. In fact I find I enjoy the feeling so much I am beginning to look forward to opportunities to tell the truth. I can tell you I feel  lighter and healthier.
Okay  some examples:

When the phone rings,you pretend you are not at home because you don’t want to speak to the person asking you to serve on a committee. You just don’t want to.

Try this: Thank you for thinking  enough of me to offer  me a place on this committee. At this time however this is not something that I want to do. I appreciate your asking me. Thank you.
Take a deep breath. Done! She will not be calling you back anytime soon. You don’t have to duck  any more when you see her coming.

II  You have been avoiding the teacher who has been trying to get you in for a parent teacher conference about Dean.
Try this: Hi Ms Smith, I’ve  been avoiding this meeting like the plague. I find it so difficult listening to people talk badly about Dean. What will this meeting be like?
Take a  deep breath. You have been honest. You have given her a heads up as to your anxiety. You still have the meeting to go to but you are no longer ducking her or yourself. You have stepped up. Pat yourself on the back. If she is perceptive, you have also given her an important clue which may go a long way in terms of her approach to you at the parent conference.

III Your daughter calls. She wants you to babysit on Thursday because she herd you say your meeting was cancelled. You were looking forward to doing nothing Thursday. Now you feel guilty as though you must now say yes to her request.

Try this: Sorry Hon. Thursday just opened up for me. I intend to  sleep late and treat myself to a long walk and some quiet time. I really need to give this
to myself.
Done! Take a deep breath. Now you don’t have to  babysit AND feel resentful because you wanted to say no, and didn’t know how. You have no resentment about being taken for granted. All she made was a request. All you need to do is look her in the eye and, honor her with an honest reply. If she sulks it does not matter. It will take a while before folks realize they are dealing with a new and improved you. Oh with practice you’re going to become so good at this!

IV Your friend calls and asks if you can come around. He doesn’t sound right.  You feel you should go now. You agreed to sort the children out tonight: bed, storytime, the whole deal. You’ve already reneged  once this week but your friend sounds urgent.

Try this:
Hon you won’t like this but it can’t be helped. Anthony’s just called and I don’t like the way he sounds. I’m going round to see what’s up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Done! Skip the lie. Don’t exaggerate either. Look your wife in the eye. Honor her with an honest explanation.

We are in this together. It’s just time to clean some stuff up, and we all have stuff. There’s a lot in it for us. We can look forward to improvement in our health. We will feel better. Our family will improve and our children will bounce into school and declare to all who will listen that “we don’t lie anymore in my house.”

30 Day CHALLENGE
Would you like to take the 30 challenge? Remember that this is not meant to be a weapon. You may not  use it to point out how I look fatter today. If that’s your truth keep it to yourself. The idea is not to kick yourself for all the times you don’t tell the truth. The idea is to recognize how different it feels when we do. In the beginning it doesn’t  feel good, it feels tiring and strange, but hang in there it gets easier.
If we cannot fix what is in front of us we cannot fix what is out there.

I was in a meeting a few days ago when someone shared with me the fact that the recent violent murders made her want to weep for the country. My response was something like “don’t bother, that won’t help.”
In my house and among my friends this violence is a hot topic. Discussing violent behavior and its’ root causes in constructive ways is challenging. Most of us are fed up, and many of my crowd are feeling like the entire island is being hijacked. I continue to hear what should be done about them, most of which is illegal or impossible.
Let’s be very clear, there is no “THEY”.  Another way to put it is : “WE ARE THE ONLY THEY THERE IS”, or try this one : “THEY IS US !”
This seems to be the single most difficult concept to accept.

“ Look neither my son, nor my daughter is caught up in this mess, so don’t talk to me as if I was one of them.”
“Have you lost your mind Sharon these people have guns !’
Yes they do, and who are ‘these people’? They are our sons, brothers, nephews, grandsons, godsons, boyfriends, children’s fathers, cousins,  co-worker’s children, ……..get the picture? They are not strangers, although their behavior is growing stranger every day. Like it or not, we grew this problem.  We must own it. It is a home-grown virus and nobody, get this now, nobody is coming to fix it.  Guess who that leaves?
“Sharon the police can’t even get the guns, what do you want from us? I believe you must be losing your mind, because you definitely are not making much sense to me! I can’t talk to you !”
Okay, stay with me a minute, because no matter how much we want to distance ourselves from this mess, we are up to our eyeballs in it.

Lee is our neighbor.  He lives in Somerset. For the last two years he has been unable to go to Hamilton. That probably means he doesn’t work, or attend school, but it is safe to assume that someone runs his errands, feeds him and houses him. This also means that whatever house he sleeps in may attract to it someone intending violence toward him. This in turn means that all who visit or live in that house are at risk; babies, siblings, elderly,  the rent payers, commonly known as Mom and Dad – all those who keep the lights on and food in the cupboards.
Lee has managed  to make these individuals believe that their cooperation in protecting him is essential to keeping him alive and further that this is the role of family. So as everyone else goes off to work, he watches television while keeping one eye on the sound of traffic which may be lingering outside. Granny knows what’s going on, not the particulars, but she knows this child is into some mess, Mom knows even more than Granny. They are probably on their knees at church on Sunday, but they are the biggest keeper of the secret on Monday. Naturally the girlfriends know more than Granny or Mom. Oh and don’t forget extended family and friends of the family. They all know enough to know Lee is in some mess.

Here is what we will not face:

The fact that one day the door of the house will open and the three year old will be shot, or the granny or you because you allowed Lee  to remain  in your home. Or perhaps while you drive home you will be shot with the baby in the car, because you were mistaken for him or because they intended to make an example of a family member.
Okay so these are the players on the stage. We meet them at the beauty parlor, at a friend’s house, at school, on the road, wherever. When conversations related to retaliation come up – what do we say?  Donna says retaliation’s coming, what is our response in that moment?
We either fan the flames, or starve them. Both saying nothing and  answering dishonestly are fanning the flames.

Our families need to call a family dinner. Invite everyone to attend, everyone. We need to have an agenda. We need a new set of rules which we have decided to live by.

·    Lee you are not the most important person living in our home. Babies and elderly must be protected. I insist on being protected !
·    If you have decided that this is how you intend to live, you can no longer live here because you attract danger to all who live in this house.
· You may not remain here because you are teaching unacceptable behavior to the children in this family. Your lifestyle is wholly unacceptable.
·    Call us when you are ready to clean it up your behavior!
If this feels too cold and we are unable to put him out, prepare for  the price of maintaining  the madness. There will be many, many more deaths and worse than the funerals is the damage done to the children left behind. Who will protect them from all they see and hear? If Lee is in our home we are lying to ourselves, telling ourselves that we are doing the loving thing. We are not exercising love to  the minors living in that house, we are not being responsible parents if we do not face how our behavior affects the vulnerable.

Families are a powerful force when we are united. We – uncles, aunts, girlfriends and grandparents collectively are all more powerful than the guns. The truth is that no one wants to be dismissed by family and friends. Will we go this far to try and save his life? “Clean up. If you need help this family will help, otherwise take it someplace else.”

Don’t just be straight with Lee, be straight with your sister too when she gives you some lame excuse for the madness she’s perpetuating. Get real with your  girlfriend who knows her boyfriend is living a dangerous life but turns a blind eye. Be straight with your daughter who finds it exciting to be close to the action.

I’m not the Premier, but I’m saying it anyway. We need A National Push. We need to designate a day to have the big conversation.  We need  public service ads to help families have this difficult conversation. The big conversation is not about race. It’s about this mess we have all contributed to, and it’s about how together we can clean it up. “I did not give birth to my child to bury him before he is thirty, and find myself having to bring up his children”. Together we can do this. Let’s call a spade a spade. The price of silence and dishonesty is too great.

You are no longer free to stand in my space and defend your child’s violent  behavior  i.e. if they hadn’t done thus- and -so,  my son would not have had to do  thus -and- so. Where does that all end? Do you want your son to be right, or do you want peace? Do you want him to be right, or do you want him alive? Do you want him to be right or do you want him imprisoned for the better part of his life? Then who will be the father to his sons? You can’t talk to me about your brother’s right to get even, I will look you in the eye and tell you ” No. he does not have that right.” Your misguided, sick support encourages him. Are you encouraging him to do violence to someone else’s son? Can you handle having that blood on your hands?

When you come to me, I vow to look you in the eye and tell you the truth. It’s not about being kind to save our friendship. Such a friendship is built on dishonesty and lies. Instead of going home  and telling my family I think you are wrong. I am committed to telling you. That’s how I will show my love.  That is how I will do my part. I will tell you the truth. Google “six degrees of separation” and you will see how very connected we all are. If my nephew is doing a pack, he knows I will turn him in. I have told him so. We live in a time where wrong is made to look right, and right wrong.

Are you committed in 2013 to  doing your part?

To see responsibility not as a weight , or a burden, or a chore, but as an opportunity. Wow  words can be so loaded.  Trying to hear beyond, beyond how your tribe used the word, beyond how your innerchild hears the word, beyond how your politics, uses the word, beyond how your religion uses words. to reach a place were empowerment  and not limitation resides, yes that’s the only place worth getting to. I don’t think I will ever hear that  phrase the same way again no matter who says it and no matter how they intend it.  Hell no ! The old way felt critical, the new way feels empowering.

“……and with all thy getting, get understanding……….”  I just thought, I’d like to share that with you.

Now I need to go back to those  clothes.

I walked back to my car.

I find a parking ticket. What the heck is this? I had my parking doo-hickey on the window and I can see that it was indeed turned on.
“What’s this ?”, I asked the ticketmaster.
“You had the machine on but you had the wrong code inserted. “
“But I was paying. I wasn’t cheating Caesar. I was paying !!”
Why can’t they  put a sticker saying ‘check your code number.’ My  government and or the Corperation of Hamilton feel justified issuing a  $50 ticket for this   *&%@# ??

I pull in to the hardware store. I go in and decide  foolishly to go to the Help Desk. Goody, I reason. There’s the attendant and  there are no other customers.  The attendant is on her cell. She’s sitting down low, which looks a little odd for someone in Customer  Services. It becomes obvious  that she’s working hard not to  be seen and she seems to not see that I am there.  Is this possible?  Silly me. I should have called ahead and made  an appointment to see her, but then  again, she would have been on the phone, so chances are that I wouldn’t have gotten through anyway. I wait as I shift from one foot to the other. Eventually I say
“Excuse me, I have a question.”
It becomes apparent that the conversation she’s having is not customer related. She doesn’t pause or put her call on hold. Instead she points to  another  floor clerk who is answering someone else’s question. She gesticulates with irritation as if to say
“You see me on the phone go to somebody else ! “
Well when the clerk in question finally  finishes with his customer, he turns to me. He is pleasant, but he does not know the answer, so he goes back to the same customer service desk where the same clerk is still sorting out her life on the phone and she still looks irritated. She’s still talking. He doesn’t wait. He just plows through with his question. Humph,he must be used to her.
“No,we aink got none.”
She’s still talking to the phone. He looks at me, shrugs his shoulders as if to say
“Hey I  tried, what’s a guy to do. You see what she’s like.”

I picked up hurricane candles and a few other small items and proceed to the check-out counter.
“How much are these?”, the sales clerk asked me after trying unsuccessfully to scan  the items .
I shrugged, too disgusted to answer. Eventually the clerk goes off to  find  the price.  I’ve never seen anyone walk slower except maybe a reluctant patient at the dentist’s office. He comes back and asks me
”How many do you have there?”
The candles have been emptied from the shopping basket and are laying there on the counter.
“Pardon me ?! “ I say bewildered.
He repeats the question blank faced. I’m smirking now. Geez he wants me to count them, find the price AND  pay him too !?  I shrug, I shake my head and look away….. I know what I want to say, but I don’t trust myself to say only that and no more. I’m feeling the heat of summer. I’m feeling the extra weight I’m carrying and the  fact that my dollar is shrinking every day, I’m frustrated  and irritated and on top of all of this is this sales clerk. I look at him. He looks at me. I wait. He looks as if to say,
” Geez lady, you picked them up. You must know how many you picked up”.
He sighs, yup that’s right ! He sighs, counts them and  concludes the sale.

On my way out of town I stop at a mango vender and had in mind to treat myself. When I approached his cart he begins his dialogue. He is training his apprentice who I notice is studying me.
“Hello Auntie,” he says.
“Amum, look  um, all these mangos are good, understand what I’m sayin’?  Tha very sweet.“ He touches each box.
“Tha’ all good right? “( how do I know if he’s right?), “So could I ask you not to touch ‘em, cause tha’ all good right? Like just choose one. See what I’m sayin? Cause people come touchin ‘em all, right? and squeezing em.”
I’m really peeved, cause One: I’m not his damned“Auntie” and Two: Does this man want to sell me a mango or what?! Okay I tell myself, get a grip and stop being so touchy. You know the “Auntie” thing is an endearment  borrowed from the islands to the south. Or maybe it isn’t even an endearment, maybe he was just letting me know he thinks I’m old. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s hot and I have had enough.
He turns to his apprentice and says,
“See? That’s how you explain it.”
The apprentice doesn’t look too convinced but says nothing.

Okay, last one.
Knock Knock
“Hi  I’m looking for some thingys.”
“Thingys?”, says the clerk.
“Aw aw No, we aink got none of them”
“Well what’s that behind you on the third shelf? “Ain’t that a thingy?”
“What ! those?!”, says the clerk.  ”You mean, these?”, he says, pointing to the blue thingy. “These ?” he asks again  sounding stupid now because he doesn’t want to  apologise for not looking before he said “no”, so he makes it sound like you were unclear and that’s why he misunderstood.
“Ya wha’ got those, I thought you was talking about those other things, Ya wha got those……….”

In Bermy we love to  begin the  dialogue by telling the customer why he cannot get what he wants.  If the customer behaves himself he might get it in the end. It’s because of the triangle of course.  Studies  indicate that when we are affected by the  Bermuda Triangle we become disoriented. We confuse service with servitude.  We don’t like serving people anyway. We have no idea what the relationship of the customer to our paycheck is. I am not overly concerned though. I am convinced that this crap economic climate is going to shake  some of this attitude loose. As my granny would have said
“We really need to change ava attytude”.

Feel free to send me your experiences, but only if you are giving me permission to use them in print. I’m thinking it might make a great book, but so that I don’t get depressed, please only send the lighter ones. I purposely did not post the other kind and we all know there are tons of the other kind!
I’m an equal opportunity storyteller so if you have stories from the salesclerks point of view, I’m open to them, but don’t call me to dictate them. You have to write them down and be prepared to have me use them, so no names please.

Here are the original paintings I have in the studio which are available for sale which relate to shopping in Bermy.

If you can think of a classic Bermy experience let me know, perhaps I’d like to paint about it. I’m also always looking for models for situational poses for my paintings. Want to play with me? You’d probably come with a few friends dressed for the shoot. It would be a photoshoot so you should expect to  spend at least an hour with me. Call with your ideas. No babies at this time these would be adult situational poses, (clothed). It could be a cool way to mark a birthday or a special time spent with friends.

I wanted to write a rant and I wanted to  express gratitude in equal measure, so much so that I  held off writing, waiting to see which one would win out. Today I decided  by a hair’s breadth to go with gratitude.
We had a  family barbeque a few days ago. It wasn’t planned but at some point while the grill was firing up, the children were playing with the  baby ducks, folks were hosing down after a swim  and the music was turned on everybody suddenly shouted to  the  DJ, my mother (who incidentally just had her eightieth birthday) to
“Turn it up ! Turn it up !”
“What?” she said looking a little confused with everyone shouting.
“The music “, we said. “Turn it up !”

It was John Woolridge’s song Proud to Be Bermudian.

We sang  loud.
We sang with gusto.
I don’t think we sang with much harmony, but we sang with spirit! Nobody even tried very hard to get me to shut up. Usually someone expresses their opinion  on  the quality of my singing. Most seem to agree that I should be happy to paint and not spoil the song by being so loud and off key, but they left me alone on Friday, so wrapped up was everyone in the singing. I wish I had  a good photo that showed the expressions on the faces of my normally tame family. We used to be much much  louder, but we are definitely   more mellow these days.

I looked around .  In that moment we were happy. Each of us no doubt had our own special line or phrase in that song that was ours alone.  It’s in moments like these that I understand the power of the Arts. What is that place inside us that only certain songs can touch? What makes you know the artist sings for you alone? The youngest one, not quite two years old  stopped to look at the spectacle of animated wildly gesticulating  singers with her mouth agape. I can’t  imagine how she interpreted the spectacle. I don’t know what she was thinking but this choir of twenty or so souls singing that song was enough to  stop her dead in her tracks. We sang it once, then we sang it again, then we sang it a third time. Wow I didn’t  know my clan  was this taken by the song.` I guarantee you that if you were driving by at that moment you would have surely slowed your car to watch and listen, and being Bermudian you might  have wanted to join in  but you would not have been so  bold.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

This is a song that moves me to tears. I love it for the way the artist speaks to us, and for the good he sees in us, and for the challenge he places at our feet.   I feel visible, I feel acknowledged, I feel  validated each time I hear the lyrics. It has taken a long time to come to this place. There was a time when we were told to be polite to the tourist.  Looking back I don’t know why because we  were polite anyway. We would have extended that kindness and welcomed them  anyway. I heard the message back then that I should feel grateful that  tourists wanted to come and constantly threatened that if we didn’t do thus and so, they would leave. I believe that we needed then and we need now to hear that we are  good, that we have the intestinal fortitude to  reinvent ourselves, that no matter how beautiful the place,  WE are the product and the success lies in us and in our sons and daughters .How ironic it is to feel so much better in some repects now, while simultaneously feeling the uncertainty of so many others. My philosophical take is that developmentally  we are toddlers. For a very long time  we were reminded of our pink sand  and  blue waters, like a child  who is constantly reminded  of how beautiful he is. We grew, the world  changed and we are recognising that we must be more. I don’t know that we have ever had much faith in ourselves, perhaps we will search for it now.  I know we can look back at a time when the climate was more economically  prosperous, but I don’t think we were all that healthy then. All was not rosey .Economic success  is a wonderful distraction, often  it  masks underlying ills.  In any event, this lyricist has done his job. He has held  a mirror up and invited us to look at ourselves, and  at the quality of our lives.

There’s no denying
These are not our best days
 So many things gone wrong
It seems we’ve lost our way
 But for us this is not how the story ends
We’ve braved rough seas before And we’ll do it again

What a powerfully honest opening line.   I don’t know if in our history we have really ‘ braved rough seas before ‘ but we certainly are in the midst of difficult seas right now. I believe that at our core we are wonderfuly human. We catch glimpses of it during hurricanes. I see it at Cup Match  and on Bermuda Day when  the country is happy.  I have so much gratitude for the man who cared enough about us to write it  and offer it to us. I chose to receive it as a wish, as a prayer, as a gift.These are difficult times for so many reasons.

I decided some years ago not to engage in conversations on religion and politics. More wars have been fought over those things than anything else.  Being Bermudian, being human, means giving space for someone else to be that as well, which is a monumental challenge on this very, very, very, small piece of land. It challenges every part of me  constantly. We are a little like children squashed in the back seat of a  VW Bug  setting off on a long hot journey. We live so close to each other that it makes us irritable. We see too much. We know too much  about each others pasts and family shortcomings. These amoung other things make us overly critical  of ourselves.It isn’t that  I think everything  in Bermuda is great. Remember I’m the one who wanted both a hot and cold drink, but today, this day, I want to  say thank you. I want to acknowledge my gratitude that I  wake to see the ocean, to breathe clean air, to say “G’morning and know that someone will answer me. Adapting is one of the most difficult and necessary elements of life. Whatever your religious beliefs, I challenge you to live it and not preach it, whatever your political choice, know at the end of the day we are still neighbors on this very very very  small plot of earth. Whether you hail for Somerset or St George’s, we are Bermudians first, we are family though we drive each other to distraction, we are cousins though we have no desire to see each other every day, we are neighbors, so a little respect,  and a little tolerance goes a long way.  As Michael Jackson said,
“I’m working on the man in the mirror….”
So here’s what you can do to help me. The next time you see me and it looks like I might be losing it (you’ll know  what I mean when you read my next  e-news letter lol) please just remind me that for as crazy as family can drive us, we are lost without one.
Thank you John Woolridge and all who helped you realize that dream.  I wonder if you know what you have given us. We are not much practiced in  giving praise except when it can’t be avoided , and even then only in small doses. Never mind. Know that there is someone in Southampton who loves the mind that wrote that song.
Thanks for reminding me of how Tom Sawyerish my childhood was.
Thank you Bermuda for I am yours and you are mine !

lyrics found here for Proud to be Bermudian:
http://bermudasong.com/images/Proud%20to%20be%20Bermudian%20lyrics.pdf

I believed  that a head that was good for art, could not be good for business. Somewhere along the line I bought into this belief. I had to struggle because I saw myself as trying to make a square peg fit a round hole. 
I struggled because I believed that such an impossible dream required a Herculean effort.
 I struggled so that others could appreciate and see how hard I was working and  not hold it against me when I failed. 
I knew I was going to fail. 
Struggle was my insurance card against all the eyes I imagined were watching and judging me, especially the ones who advised me to play it safe and stay in the old job where my paycheck was certain.

I fought against the idea of not following my dreams. What I am trying to say is that I believed that one should find the courage to follow one’s dreams so I quit teaching and began the journey, but because I believed as I did, I knew success could not really be mine. Struggle? You want to speak of struggle?? I was in the struggle of my life! I wanted success but knew I could not have it. The compromise was this:  I decided I would be a gallant warrior. I was determined to go out and fight the good fight trying to attain the impossible dream. I would stand for something. I would hold to the ideal even if I couldn’t have the prize. Wow. I’m surprised that the years of this internal madness didn’t kill me.

Fear and Doubt took up residency in my head so long ago that they claimed squatter’s rights.
 
This  belief  was responsible for self-doubt and stress. Just thinking about business made me weak. Come to find out I was not struggling with business at all. I have been struggling, there is no doubt about that. I was struggling with my notion of business. I was busy trying to cushion the inevitable failure. The struggle, I realize, is not only not necessary, it is non-productive. Business is an arena to be understood, learned, and mastered, but my fear of it created new dragons to slay. My   belief was that business success belonged to people whose brains were wired differently. This belief was the culprit.  When this myth became a truth for me it became impossible to challenge.
 
I’m learning that trying to argue myself  into  new ways of thinking  does not work, no matter how much logic I employ. I’m learning that beating myself up, trying to shame myself into action does not work. I’m even learning that working hard to change does not work. Change does not happen because I work hard to change. Change happens when I manage to see things differently. The moment I see differently is the moment of change. Now all that is left to do is practice to refine my new view.  I can do that. The culprit has been a myth, nothing but a myth, a boogey-man, a paralyzing irrational fear, a tenant who moved in eons ago, a tenant who didn’t pay rent but insisted on moving his relatives in each of whom took turns scaring the crap out of me every  day.

In the words of  Malcolm Gladwell, all that remains is my ten thousand hours of practice to achieve mastery. The journey as a dragon slayer is challenging. First you have to recognize the dragon, even though he’s huge you still may not recognize who and what he is.

Some upon hearing the story ask me how long the hunt for these particular dragons has gone on. The answer is, most of my life but the last two and a half years of turning to face them was the most intense. They died not very long ago. I thought I would remember every detail of the moment of their death but I don’t and it’s so strange trying to understand the terror I felt for so long. I now feel  a lightness of spirit as well as a sense of spaciousness. Not surprising really, dragons occupy a lot of room.

Bob Marley said ‘None but ourselves can free our minds’
The bible says ‘ As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he’
James Allen says ‘They who have conquered doubt and fear have conquered failure.’

A man only begins to be a man when he ceases to whine and revile, and commences to search for the hidden justice which regulates his life. And he adapts his mind to that regulating factor,he ceases to accuse others as the cause of his condition, and builds himself up in strong and noble thoughts; ceases to kick against circumstances, but begins to use them as aids to his more rapid progress, and as a means of the hidden powers and possibilities within himself.”
James Allen- As A Man Thinketh

And the moral of the story is: Whatever we believe in becomes our truth, not THE truth, but OUR truth. May the force be with you as you summon the courage to slay your dragons.

The Four Agreements by Miguel Ruiz, As A Man Thinketh by James Allen are excellent reads.

Part 2

Part 3

Visit the Gold Collection

I waited until the children had settled in their next class and went to the teacher to beg a few minutes to speak with them. I asked the child in question to stand. I apologized to her firstly for falsely accusing her and, secondly for not giving her a chance to explain herself. If she had been given the time, she would have told me that I had made a mistake and falsely accused her. I told her I was wrong. I told her I regretted my behavior. I told her that, as I had shouted at her in front of the class, I should apologize to her in front of the same class. Then I asked her if she could forgive me.

“That’s okay Ms. Wilson”, she said.

“No it wasn’t okay,” I said, “But thank you for accepting my apology.”

I thanked the teacher; I thanked the class then took my leave. I thanked the class because they were a witness. They were a witness to my initial behavior and attitude, and they were a witness to my apology.

This was one of my finest teaching moments because I recognized that the incident presented an opportunity to teach a meaningful lesson. Sometimes as adults we feel that it is beneath us to apologise to children. Apologising to children is a great way to teach them how to apologise.

When I was in primary school, more than anything else, I remember my teachers. They believed in me when I did not believe in myself. They told me that they expected great things of me, and I remember l how much I loved to hear them say that. I remember that it really did seem possible to be great when they spoke of such things. The idea that someone was expecting greatness of me actually made me sit up a lot straighter. Just as my teacher spoke to me of a greatness I had within me, it is my hope that my apology will have infused this child with a kind of dignity which will encourage her to sit a little taller in her chair.

Teachers are powerful in terms of their potential influence. Every situation is an opportunity to grow, teach, and be taught. An apology offered with a sincere and contrite heart forms cornerstones for future honest conversations.

Who of us like to be falsely accused? Who of us have not wronged or been wronged by a worker, customer, child, supervisor or housekeeper? To apologize with sincerity sets the stage for more truthful conversation. It teaches by example. It allowed this particular child to experience my humanness. The act of apologizing acknowledged that she was worthy of the dignity of an apology from anyone who knowingly wrongs her.

Apologies do not diminish us in the eyes of others. Quite the reverse is true. Apologies make it more difficult for others to deny the same to us. We all know supervisors, spouses and colleagues who would rather die than apologize. Sometimes we are selective, believing that certain people deserve an apology while others do not. Conduct your own experiment and notice the difference ‘sincere apology’ makes in your dealings with people. Your workers will not be able to withhold respect from you, your supervisor’s attitude will have to change as well and even if it does not, you will have risen above the situation and will therefore feel very different.

When you determine that an apology is warranted, apologize without excuses, without justification or equivocation. We have the power to influence others hugely. We have the power to change our world.

To view my art, please visit my portfolio page.