Ignorance and Influence

Hey hippies, 
so this post is going to be more of a rant than anything else because this is about something that drives me crazy almost every single day over here. 
The word Nigger. or Nigga. 
Yes. I used the actual words. I know that's asking for a beating, but A) I'm in Africa and B) I use those terms because those are the terms my kids (and the general community) over here use so often because they don't understand the difference. Because no one ever taught them what the word means in the first place. 
As Americans we don't realize the effect we have on other people/cultures/behaviors around the ENTIRE world. I never realized this until I came here, but it's really unbelievable how far our influence can stretch, whether we mean for it to or not. 
Now, I understand the importance behind the black communities in America taking back the word and making it their own. I mean... I understand as much as a white, straight, woman who's never been suppressed enough to have to take back a negative term and make it my own can. But these kids and communities over here just see our movies and see our celebrities saying these things and they have no idea what it means. They're blind to the significance and the weight of the history behind what's being said. All they know is that the cool black guy in the movie who they look up to says it so it must just be something that cool people say. 
We are literally breeding ignorance in other countries because we're ignorant of our own influence. 
Whenever I hear someone say it over here, I simply ask, "Do you know what the word means?" The answer is always no. I then begin to give them a short history lesson on the weight that word contains, which is so hard to sum up in a few short minutes. 
I know this is something that will most likely never change. But if you're a Black American (or even a really brave/stupid non-Black American) who uses that word, next time you say it stop and think about the people on the other side of the globe and the ignorance that's there because of us. 
Rant over. Just think about it. 
Ps. As I'm about to post this blog a group of Namibian 8th graders comes into my English class room saying, "what up, niggers" and everyone laughs. It breaks my heart. It really does. 

From high school drop out to Peace Corps Volunteer

Recently, one of my good friends over here (Amy Farrah Fowler from the previous post) heard my story and declared that it needed to be shared. 
I never planned on college after high school. Honestly, I didn't think there was any way I would ever have the skills to actually graduate. I truly thought I wasn't smart enough. I figured trying would only end up as a waste of time, waste of money, and in the end it would steal the meager amount of confidence I couldn't afford to lose. However, I've always been somewhat of a forward thinker and around my junior year of high school I started doing some serious searching for what my life would be once I crossed the stage. I've always had a passion for traveling and absorbing other cultures, so naturally I was looking into working on cruise ships/airlines.
 It was around this time my dad mentioned the Peace Corps to me. I still don't know if this was a strategic move on his part or just blind luck. You see, education is a strong passion of my father's and he has always encouraged his kids to go as far as they can where education is concerned. I think it was really hard for him to hear that I didn't even want to try after high school. Once I started researching the Peace Corps and attended a conference hosted by a recruiter who was a previous volunteer himself, I learned that (in most cases) you have to have a degree. I didn't know it at the time, but learning that information would ultimately change the course of my life.  
Que the drama. Seeing as this story is set in high school, you didn't think it would be anything other than dramatic, did you? Well, I hope you're ready. 
My sophomore year I joined our school's gymnastic team, despite the evil hag of a coach I had to endure. This woman was truly the second most awful human being I've ever met (and believe me, I've met my fair share of monstrous human beings). She actually encouraged us to be anorexic. Making snide comments about our weight. Like you're not already self-conscious enough as a high school female?? I remember one time, one of my teammates asked her how you get rid of love handles. Can  you believe the complete waste of human skin said, "push away from the table"?! I repeat: hag. 
Anyway. Now that you understand how truly awful she was, I can continue. The first semester of my senior year the hag started spreading rumors about me. I have this genetic skin condition that causes sores from time to time. it was especially awful during adolescence, obviously. Puberty is a cruel mistress. Well the hag took it upon herself to go to the school counselor  and they collectively decided that I must get a note from a doctor that I'm not contagious before I'm allowed to come back to school. Lovely. I'm standing in line at lunch time to get my last homecoming dance ticket when I see my step mom walking toward me with the counselor in her shadow. Naturally, I'm completely confused. I end up being out of school for three days so I can get an appointment and get a piece of paper stating something that we all already knew. Hag. 
Once I was deemed eligible to return to class, I learned that while I was out the hag decided to tell the rest of the gymnastics team some very disturbing, very untrue things about me. Like I have staph infection (this part was actually kind of true). Like I'm highly contagious. Like if I were to get on a piece of gymnastics equipment and then one of my teammates got on the same equipment, they could get staph from me. and it could KILL THEM. Seriously. Awesome. I immediately went to the office and called my dad. He was LIVID. 
I soon became a social pariah. I mean... the other kids literally thought I could kill them. This is not what I needed. I was already struggling with severe depression. Great. Now I'm the best super villain that's never existed and can kill people by simply existing. hag. 
I'll save you from the long drawn out process, but after much deliberation and consideration, my dad made a deal with me. He said that he would sign the dropout papers if I got my GED and at least made it through one semester of college. We shook on it. 
The next day my dad and I were at the school talking to the principal and filling out the papers. Dad wanted to sue the school, the hag and everyone involved but I told him not to worry about it. We didn't really have the money for that kind of court case anyway. And besides. I'm a true believer in Karma. 
When I went back to turn in my books I went by the hag's office to pick up my gymnastics t-shirt that I had already paid for. Can you believe the hag hugged me. She actually friggin hugged me. I should have pulled her close and whispered into her ear, "I've infected you. You will die in three days." Idiot. 
I dropped out of high school in November 2006. I got my GED and was enrolled in community college by January 2007. In 2011 I crossed the stage for the first time with my Bachelor's of Social Work. In 2012 I made my second walk for my Master's of Social Work. I was officially accepted into the Peace Corps program in December 2012 and was sworn in as a volunteer on May 7, 2013.
 Dreams do come true. 

FINALLY! Another post...

I know it's been forever. Sorry guys. I've really been unmotivated to write in my blog lately. I"m working on it. buuut I've also been pretty busy. The end of term 1 for the learners that I'm teaching was stressful, but then I got a whole MONTH off. I spent most of that in bed. Naturally. However, I did spend one week of it on vacation with another lovely volunteer who I will hence forth refer to as Amy Farrah Fowler. Just because I want to and I'm only slightly obsessed with The Big Bang Theory.  Most of my vacations end up being ridiculous and full of stories and this one was no different. We decided to rent a car. A manual car. In Namibia. This may not be a big deal to you, but neither myself, nor Amy Farrah Fowler have driven any car in over a year and neither one of us is well versed in the art of driving a manual. Not to mention many of the Namibian roads we were on were either complete sand or gravel. Our car, who I affectionately named George so I could curse at it when I couldn't get him into gear, was approximately 5 centimeters off the ground. and definitely was NOT a 4x4. Needless to say. We got stuck.  To top it off on the very first day of our trip Amy Farrah Fowler left her wallet in a taxi in Windhoek (the Capitol). It had all of her money, all of her credit cards, and her driver's license. Awesome. This means that I had to drive George for (almost, Shhhh) the entirety of our trip. ugh. At the same time Amy Farrah Fowler left her wallet, I also left my cell phone. Well, one of them, anyway. I eventually was able to get in contact with the taxi driver and ended up getting my phone back buy Amy Farrah Fowler's money and ID were long gone. Shizah.  Although, the trip started off kind of rocky, we ended up having a blast. We were able to go to Luderitz ( a southern coastal town in Namibia) and enjoy a Crayfish Festival. Since I hail from Louisiana (holla) I was unbelievably excited for this. However, I didn't realize that there is, in fact, a difference in Crawfish and Crayfish. Crayfish are HUGE! and delicious. 

While in Luderitz Amy Farrah Fowler and I were also able to go on a cruise and see the legendary AFRICAN PENGUINS! 

After Luderitz we headed to Sossusvlei, to climb the sand dunes. That is HARD work guys. Once we made it to the top Amy Farrah Fowler and I tried to do some yoga and sweet jumps. Amy Farrah Fowler was much better than me.... Check it

Like a new born bird trying to fly... 

We also went to Swakopmund (another coastal city of Namibia where I went skydiving last year). While there, we went sand boarding! I really think I'm getting into extreme sports :) Although, I was complete rubbish at sand boarding. Oh well. 

Other than that, our trip consisted of a lot of cursing and stressing out while trying not to stall George on a hill, laughing at my imaginative threats, just laughing in general, losing money, losing phones, breaking phones, losing almost all my underwear (that sound R rated but I promise it's PG), eating sooo much good food. Mexican included WHAAAA! yeah. Me singing a lot. I do that. about random things. Kind of like Marshall from How I Met Your Mother if you're cool enough to watch that. but yeah. That's my life. 

In other news just really quick. The second term has started and it looks like I'm going to have a lot less behavioral issues from my Grade 8's and 9's (YAYAYAYAY). This is in part due to some positive reinforcement programs I've started in my classroom. 

Also if you've read through this slew of crap to this point, another project I'm looking into is getting some stuff for my kids at KAYEC. I want to get a grant for story books (teen/young adult, non-fiction), sports equipment (soccer balls, pumps, etc), and games/puzzles for ages 12-18. I have to have so much of the materials donated, enter the reason for this paragraph. If you are interest in donating anything just email me: Raelyn89@gmail.com. Thanks a heap :)

Toodles ya'll.