Photo: T. Charles Erickson

A recent article in the New York Times pointed out that the United States’ war in Afghanistan remained “just a blip on the American news media’s radar in 2011.” The exact amount of coverage, in statistics from the Project for Excellence in Journalism, was given at 2 percent. Perhaps it is not surprising that the scope of the dealings that led to our involvement in that country are below-the-radar as well.

Blood and Gifts, a play by J.T. Rogers, creates a full overview of the issues and choices that were the precursors to our current situation. Commissioned by Lincoln Center Theater, and presented last year at the National Theatre, Blood and Gifts is currently being performed at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater through January 8.

Inserted into the Playbill, audience members received a printed supplement outlining the background for the action about to unfold. Furnishing a bare bones history, it explains that Afghanistan “occupies the only access from Central Asia to the West.” With the Cold War heating up, the nation became of geo-political interest.

Aspiring to modernize, Afghanistan asked the United States for aid. When America declined, they then reached out to the adjacent Soviet Union—who assisted them in the role of “ally” for thirty years. In 1979, when the U.S.S.R. perceived that Afghanistan was going to create a partnership with America, they invaded.

It is against the backdrop of an active battle between the Soviet forces and the people of Afghanistan that Blood and Gifts is set. A full range of characters is introduced, including operatives from the CIA, the British MI6, the KGB, and Pakistan’s intelligence agency ISI—as well as representatives from the national struggle. Each one has a very specific agenda.

The initial set is bathed in tones of blue, from the large square carpet to the six wooden benches placed along three sides. A lone suitcase sits on the floor. The actors enter, dressed in costumes ranging from suits to the turbans and mountain garb of the mujahideen.

The narrative is both riveting and instructive. The acting is top-notch. I reached out to J.T. Rogers to get additional insights into his process and endeavors in “theater that engages the public realm.”

This is not the first play where you have written about a political situation. Previously, in The Overwhelming, you tackled Rwanda. You have frequently noted that your father taught political science, and as a boy you lived in Malaysia and Indonesia. How has your background informed your choice of material?

I read an interview with Marsha Norman twenty plus years ago in which she made an observation that’s always stuck with me. She said that there are two kinds of American writers: Northern ones, who are both able–and go out of their way–to reinvent themselves; and Southern ones who know, no matter how far they travel, they will always be called home. I’ve always seen myself in the first camp, but now I’m not as sure. I was raised by divorced parents, spending much of each year both in central Missouri with my father and in the East Village. The constant in both homes was a passionate engagement in politics and a deep knowledge of and interest in other countries–both my parents having lived, together and apart, all over the world. As a playwright, I spent many years working through and then shedding different skins, trying to find my voice and the subject matters that truly gripped me. It’s only with hindsight that I understand that what my parents exposed me to, and what they raised me to value, would so inform my work. In essence, writing plays that delve into and are set against international and political concerns is simply me, as a writer, being called home.

As preparation for writing the play, you were able to dialogue with Steve Coll, author of Ghost Wars, and Jack Devine who served at the CIA and oversaw the sale of the Stinger missiles—featured prominently in the story line. How did you weave those conversations into the fabric of Blood and Gifts?

In a nutshell, the process works likes this for me: I read an enormous amount about the historical and political history that the story I’m going to tell is set against. Only after I’m stepped in the events do I start interviewing people who were personally involved. My aim is not to talk with folks about “talking points” or to be further educated but to get into the personal: What did you eat? What was the light like? The smells? Who really, really pissed you off? And on and on. Playwrighting is about detail and specificity; I take the specific details that folks are kind enough to share with me and I weave them into the characters I’ve created. The characters are mine, but these details help to ground them.

The first section of the drama establishes the characters and the backstory of the conflict in Afghanistan. There is a lot of material to digest. In tandem with this arc, you present the personal histories of the main players—which connect them as individuals and through parallel situations. How did you create a balance between the two elements?

I don’t break the story or characters up that way. I try to create dramatic situations and personae where people have to talk about politics—where it is as life-and-death important as, say, sex or violence is in many other stories. There is some “table setting” in the first act, so that there is an emotional wallop and a good yarn in act two, but I’ve tried to weave the personal and the political throughout.

When a large American flag descends, to serve as a backdrop for a hearing at

Photo: T. Charles Erickson

the United States Senate Building, the energy shifts. The murky cloak and dagger machinations of covert operations give way to spotlighting the issue of getting funding for the Afghan freedom fighters from “American taxpayers.” The previously established relationships, impacted by new forces, are operating in a new sphere. As the next piece in the puzzle, did you see this juncture as the place where the audience would readily identify?

Audiences tell you what your play is about. I’m always intrigued by how they react differently than I expected to some part of the story. In this production, when we arrive in DC at the top of Act Two there’s a palpable lowering of shoulders. There’s a collective sense of, “Ahhhhh, I know this world, I’m comfortable here.” But they do go back with me to Pakistan, and then Afghanistan, as the play hurdles on. The DC scenes have become an unforeseen “battery charge” for them, revving them up to go back to places and events that are deeply foreign to most of them.

The American agent, James Warnock, has a scene with his CIA boss where the focus is a moral exchange rather than one dealing with logistics. In this sequence, he asks, “Which action that I take will do less evil?” He is given the response, “In this work there is no perfect and no good.” By highlighting the personal as well as the national quandaries, you make the issues very relatable. What do you hope that theatergoers will take away from the play, and how does that reflect you initial goals in writing the play?

To say, There but by the grace of God go I. To ask themselves, “If I were in that position, screws tightening, the world seemingly hanging on my decision…what would I do, and what would my choice say about me?” I don’t have a point to make or theme to underline. I try to put the world on stage and let the audience decide what they think about who they meet and what transpires. Lots of questions raised but no answers given. Theater is good at the former, not so much at the latter.

This article originally appeared on cultureID

In her new memoir, Becoming Ginger Rogers: How Ballroom Dancing Made Me a Happier Woman, Better Partner, and Smarter CEO, Patrice Tanaka shares the story of how she committed to living in the present while putting joy in her life.

The shattering events of 9/11 are a backdrop to the beginning of Tanaka’s narration. The Twin Towers had been part of the view from her office window. She found herself repeatedly reflecting upon the losses experienced by those in the New York community—and the temporal nature of human beings. She was also dealing with her own struggles, both professional and personal.

Tanaka lays out the health challenges that she experienced from 1989 through 1990, and the illness of her adored husband, “Mr. Sweetheart,” who fought a cancerous brain tumor for fifteen years. During this period of time, she watched her spouse endure surgeries, radiation, and chemotherapy treatment. Tanaka became his caretaker, and despite the draining effects recognized a major message on the choice of how we experience life—“as a chore or as a joy.”

At the end of 2001, Tanaka was “exhausted and depressed.” A session in mid-2002 with an executive coach became a turning point for her when she was challenged with the question, “What is your grand mission in life, your true purpose on the planet?” Tanaka, still consumed by thoughts of those who had perished in the 9/11 attacks, kept focusing on the concept of living in the moment in a way that was meaningful. She told her coach that her specific meaning was to “choose joy each day.” When pressed to identify what brought her joy, Tanaka responded unequivocally, “Dancing.” She was given the assignment to book a dancing lesson for herself.

The reader follows Tanaka into the world of ballroom dancing, where her life was about to change in unexpected ways as she masters lessons on the dance floor that resonate far beyond new steps and winning competitions.

Photo Courtesy of Albert Parker

The text is punctuated with terpsichorean related quotes, “Intermezzo” pages that detail different dances from the Mambo to the Tango, and excerpted aphorisms from her revelations. Without a doubt, women will personally relate to the material. This includes the quest for perfectionism, apologizing too much, the need do put matters into context, and fear of failure or losing control. Through her dancing, Tanaka gradually morphs from a top PR executive who has carried the nickname “Ayatollah Tanaka,” to an in-the-moment “Samba Girl,” who can stop to celebrate her achievements and dance through her mistakes.

Eager to dig deeper into her insights, I spoke with Tanaka by telephone. She was open in discussing her personal transformation, telling me, “It’s about pursuing your joy. It will permeate your being. There is no downside!” Tanaka told me that she had written the book to help others and to communicate the key message, “Pursue your joy with a sense of urgency. Live out full and fiercely today with no regrets.”

I asked her to comment on the blocks that had hamstrung her and that remain problematic for so many women. On perfectionism she said, “It’s a fear based approach to life. We want to be perfect because we worry that if we make one mistake, people are going to stop loving us.” She qualified that path as a way of “disenfranchising others.” She explained, “Just because I make a mistake, doesn’t mean I’m a failure. Failures are stepping stones to success.” She specifically underscored how they could be applied to moving forward.

Regarding always putting other people’s needs first, Tanaka pronounced it a “female thing,” noting, “We want to make sure others are taken care of. We’re trying to be there 200 percent, and we put ourselves last.” In her business practice, Tanaka referred to the habit of giving more than 100 percent as “over-servicing.”

Underscoring the choice to choose between focusing on negativity or on blessings, Tanaka believes getting in touch with the gratitude can stop “the slide into the abyss.” One of the tips that she shared when we spoke was about creating a “joy calendar,” where you actively schedule two to three things per month to look forward to. In addition, every night she makes a mental note of the positive episodes of her day. She is a firm believer that “whatever we request and are mindful of, we generate.”

Tanaka’s instructor, dance champion Emmanuel Pierre-Antoine, repeatedly conveyed, “Focus on your present step and do it full-out, because your present step is what’s going to produce our next step.” When Tanaka became able to implement this advice into her dance work, she then translated that mindset into her corporate life. She connected to the concept of “manifesting” results rather than forcing them.

My favorite takeaways were: “Let’s try to make the best decisions we can in the moment; Just breathe; Let’s jump off that bridge when we get to it!”

At the conclusion of Becoming Ginger Rogers, Tanaka has reached the Silver level in Pro-Am ballroom competition. Her philosophy has evolved to using her energy in a more productive way. She has “aligned” the different facets of who she is to reinforce each other. Most importantly, she has reconnected with herself, physically and emotionally.

Before our conversation ended, Tanaka reiterated, “We must pursue our joy with a sense of urgency. We don’t have an infinite future.”

As we move into 2012, the target of “staying the in the present” with that joy is a valuable aspiration.

This article originally appeared on the women’s health site EmpowHER.

Dr. Robert D. Bullard

“Who wouldn’t be against the poisoning of children?”

This was the rhetorical question posed by Dr. Robert D. Bullard during a recent phone interview that I had with him. Our talk covered topics from the genesis of his career as the “Father of Environmental Justice,” to the role that women and mothers have played in the struggle for the health of the planet. As Bullard stated, “Women have been the backbone of environmental justice—and women of color have consistently been fighting for their kids.”

African-American and Latinos have repeatedly found their communities targeted as prime locations for toxic facilities. I reached out to Bullard for an overview on the evolution of the Environmental Justice movement, which has served as a prism through which to examine policy based on race, environment, and waste. Bullard walked me through his work from the 1970s, when he developed the theory of Environmental Justice, to his current role as the Dean of the Barbara Jordan-Mickey Leland School of Public Affairs at Texas Southern University.

In addition to a long list of accolades, Bullard has been recognized as one of “The Century’s Environmental Leaders” (Newsweek 2008). However, when he became the founding director of the Environmental Justice Resource Center (EJRC), he was a solo act with no staff.  He was operating with “a phone, a fax machine, and an empty office.” The subject of his early research was Houston, Texas—particularly “Black Houston.” His wife, attorney Linda McKeever Bullard, was spearheading a class action suit in 1979 against the city. It was on behalf of African-American middle-class homeowners who were opposing a proposal to place a municipal landfill in their backyards. She needed information gathering, so Bullard embarked on what he termed “detective work—putting together a puzzle.” He toiled without benefit of computer technology or database formats. His results showed that the city of Houston had a record of placing waste in African-American communities, regardless of income factors.

Dumping In Dixie: Race, Class, and Environmental Quality, Bullard’s 1990 book, became a textbook primer for teaching the underpinnings of Environmental Justice. In it, Bullard illustrated how siting practices have created a full range of health problems in the African-American population as the result of incinerators, garbage dumps, hazardous waste, and chemical plants. Bullard meticulously used research based on science and facts to demonstrate that environmental waste was being located in economically poor and politically powerless neighborhoods. The same year, Bullard built a list of groups doing related advocacy initiatives, which led to the National People of Color Environmental Summit in 1991 and a Principles of Environmental Justice manifesto. His formulations on public policy branched out to the international level, when in 1999 he assisted in preparing environmental racism documents that were presented at the United Nations Human Rights Commission in Geneva.

When we spoke, Bullard expressed his concern about the current atmosphere of ongoing negativity toward the Environmental Protection Agency. He said, “When people demonize the EPA, it’s totally bogus. We need a strong, independent EPA.” Reflecting on what a lapse on enforcing standards could do to the public’s wellbeing, Bullard remarked, “Are we trying to race to the bottom?”

On the issue of “unequal protection,” Bullard emphasized the need of governmental agencies to work together so that “no community becomes a dumping zone.” He was definitive in his stance, “You need a strong Federal presence,” referencing how in too many circumstances, “states have done a lousy job.” Drilling down on the way equity issues impact low wealth communities, Bullard noted that the same neighborhoods that experience toxic sites are also the ones lacking in supermarkets, parks and other quality of life markers. Pointing to a Toxic Waste and Race Report, Bullard observed that of 413 commercial waste facilities, 56 percent were in locations inhabited by people of color. Using the term “clustering,” he pointed to hot spots in California, Texas, and New Mexico—as well as to the urban centers of Detroit, Miami, Washington, D.C. and New York City—that shared similar patterns of toxic release.

Bullard addressed “energy apartheid” and who gets the benefits of clean energy. By example, he defined that it is not solely a matter of who the recipients of coal-fired plants localities are, but how efforts to clean up and move away from coal dependency are conducted. Bullard pointed out the frequency with which the disposal of toxic waste has been relocated to rural areas where the African-American population was dense. In addition, he addressed the need for renewable energy to be implemented fairly, mentioning that “green” schools have been innovated, but unfailingly located in white neighborhoods.

Throughout the conversation, Bullard underscored the ethical component of the environmental equation. To deflect Congressional attacks on the EPA, Bullard advised, “We need to do a better job of educating the public.” Undeterred by proposed set backs to the Clean Air Act or Obama’s walk back on the September ozone standard initiative, Bullard said, “We have to keep working; there’s a lot that needs to be done. We need to position our country as a leader, and put pressure on the powers that be.”

In explaining how children of color were disproportionately affected by ozone, automobile and truck exhaust, coal-fired power plants—putting them on the front line, Bullard circled back to the efforts of mothers in East Los Angeles, reiterating how they had been battling against local incinerators for decades. He also mentioned the ongoing work of Peggy Shepard, executive director and co-founder (1988) of West Harlem Environmental Action (WE ACT), New York’s first organization devoted to improving environmental health in communities of color. Speaking of all youngsters, Bullard said, “If we protect children, we protect everyone. If we don’t, we put everyone at risk.”

His final words to me summed up why mobilizing to ensure and maintain the progress and regulations put into place by the EPA is so essential:

“Writing off an entire generation is not acceptable.”

Photo courtesy of Dr. Robert D. Bullard

This article originally appeared on the website Moms Clean Air Force

As she began her career, StJohn discovered firsthand that there were some things about the military that she didn’t like. Foremost was the way in which women enlistees were treated. Secondary, was the institutional response to the behavior, “That’s the way it is.” Degrading conduct was not limited to verbal insults. It included coerced sexual relations with senior male staff—or else. While at technical school, StJohn outlined the circumstances as, “It was a given that you could be forced into sex with a senior officer or your career would be compromised, and possibly ruined.”

StJohn summed up the psychology behind the action with the clear statement, “It’s a conquering of each person—a way of putting a woman in her place to achieve a mode of submission.” Her female colleagues “knew the instructors who could hurt their careers, and acquiesced as a matter of survival.”

It happened to StJohn more than once.

Defining the situation for me, StJohn related how “her idealism had been crushed.” She pinpointed the nitty-gritty of what fighting back could do. It was made clear to her that any actions on her part would endanger the status of her hard-earned security clearance, potentially leave her with a dishonorable discharge, or have her tagged with a “personality disorder.” Most distressing for StJohn was the inference that her father’s career could be “tarnished.” StJohn noted, “I understood from childhood how the military works. The swipe of a pen can affect if you can get a job or buy a house.”

Cassaundra StJohn

StJohn departed active service at 22 because she realized that “things were not going to change” and that she was no longer able to be “a good soldier and keep my mouth shut.” She mentioned the comment written on her security clearance report which labeled her with the contentious description: “Non-Conformist.” As StJohn emphasized, “It wasn’t a compliment.” She chose to finish out the rest of her obligation by serving in the Air National Guard and the Air Force Reserves. StJohn clarified the difference between active and reserve duty in the 1980s saying, “It means that you don’t have to face the harassment everyday, and the military has no control over your life.”

Her father—unaware of the extent of her disillusionment or the malfeasance she had been subjected to—gave her the advice, “Keep your nose down and don’t rock the boat.”

After StJohn left active service, she had no luck finding a job with just a high school diploma. She tried college, but felt a disconnect with the students. At 26, she was ready to get back on the educational track, with the goal of achieving an MBA by the age of 30. By this time, she had two children and was working two jobs while attending classes. As she noted dryly, “Scrubbing toilets at a Texaco gas station can be very motivating.” She used funds from the GI Bill and fees from donating blood to pay the tab. By her third decade, she had caught up with her peers and began a career in advertising, marketing, and entrepreneurship.

StJohn’s “aha” moment didn’t come until March 2011, when she attended an event for women veteran entrepreneurs. None of the teachers had any experience with military life. Realizing that they were many resources for men who had served—but not for women—StJohn had an epiphany. She asked herself, “Why aren’t I doing this? Why am I waiting for the VA? I can speak a language that women vets understand.” In retrospect she observed, “It just hit me all at once.”

That was the beginning of F7 Group, which StJohn describes “as an organization that is looking through the windshield—rather than the rear view mirror.” The approach is grounded in seven basic tools of support: friends and family, freedom, foundation, function, focus, flexibility, and fundamentals.

StJohn is very clear that emotional issues around military service must be resolved before women can move forward. “We acknowledge the impact of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Military Sexual Trauma (MST), and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). With women driving trucks, being in special operations or combat zones, there is a high risk for potential hostile engagement. As StJohn underscored, the current military policy maintains there are no women in “direct hand-to-hand combat.” This has created a bureaucratic mess for those women suffering from the ramifications of TBI. F7 is actively supporting a change in legislation.

For the women it works with, F7 is vigorously trying to fill in the gaps around healthcare, employment, education and housing. Supporting and partnering with other groups that concentrate on these specific concerns, F7 functions as an information clearinghouse. StJohn sees plenty of room at the table for everyone’s work, advocating pulling up extra chairs rather than feeling competitive about existing seats.

StJohn has moved beyond her original concept of providing business boot camps for building entrepreneurial skills to the concept of personal retreats. She envisions “building a train from the uniform to the place that women vets want to be.” She expanded the profile of potential attendees from vets only, to others in the military family—such as wives and mothers. Welcoming those who served in Vietnam, along with younger women who were deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan, the F7 premise is to eliminate the labels. StJohn outlined her approach as, “You take off your rank, your service, your era, and your role, and connect with the fact that the military is the common thread that binds us.”

The first retreat was held in October. The goal for 2012 is to convene quarterly, with three meetings in national locations and one in Texas. StJohn qualifies the gatherings as “looking at the heart side.” She speaks about “putting the past where it belongs,” while answering questions and redefining the self with other women who “have walked the walk.”

The need is there. StJohn quoted stats that illustrate female veterans are four times as likely to be homeless as other women. The total number of homeless women veterans in California, Texas, and Florida exceeds the amount of homeless female vets in the entire country. On the reason for elevated rates of homelessness among female vets, StJohn responded, “They’re proud, they don’t want handouts, and many are suffering with emotional problems and PTSD.” She also referenced figures showing that 70 percent of women vets experience some level of PTSD, and 38 percent of women vets “report” incidents of MST.

“Women vets get back here, and there’s no support,” StJohn said. She spoke about two women in the F7 program who had gone for services at the Dallas VA Medical Center. They described their encounters there as “nightmare experiences.” StJohn has scheduled the next F7 “Lone Star” retreat for April 2012, in Texas. Her goal is to serve 200 applicants.

“I know these women,” StJohn said. “I don’t want them to have to take twenty years to get to the other side. I want to help other women in the military family to go to the next step—with less pain and in less time than I did.”

Photos courtesy of F7 Group

Members of The Elders, a contingent of independent global leaders focusing on “peace and human rights,” made appearances at the Clinton Global Initiative and the Mashable Social Good Summit. Their focus: to bring awareness to the “neglected” topic of child marriage through the Girls Not Brides platform. The campaign dictum is, “Let girls be girls and not brides.”

Working to bring together non-governmental agencies from around the world, Girls Not Brides is confronting a practice that prohibits 10 million girls—annually—of the right to an education, health, and security.

The stats are overwhelming.  On a daily basis, twenty-five thousand girls are married before they reach the age of eighteen. To grasp the numbers in real time, that is the equivalent of nineteen girls being married without their consent every minute. According to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights drawn up in 1948, a “marriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses.”

Child marriage occurs worldwide. It affects 46 percent of underage girls in Sub-Sahara Africa; 38 percent in South Asia; 2 percent in the Caribbean and Latin America; 18 percent in North Africa and the Middle East. The highest rate, 75 percent, is evident in Niger. More than a third of child brides inhabit India. Some groups in Europe and North America engage in the “custom” as well. A child is defined as being any human being below the age of eighteen in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child [CRC Article 1].

For girls who are wed before they turn eighteen years old, there are health concerns with major ramifications. They are at a far higher risk of fistula and other pregnancy related injuries. Those under fifteen years of age are five times more likely to die in childbirth than young women in their twenties. The number drops slightly, to twice as likely, for girls between fifteen to nineteen years old.

Child brides face greater odds of contracting HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases, because they cannot advocate for safe sex practices. When they give birth, as opposed to mothers who are over nineteen years old, their offspring are 60 percent more likely to die before they reach their first birthday. Child brides are also prone to be victims of domestic violence and sexual abuse. Intrinsically intertwined with issues surrounding gender equality, family planning and maternal health, child marriage is dually driven by tradition and poverty.

One ripple effect has caused six of the eight 2015 Millennium Development Goals to be thwarted as child brides are forced to terminate their schooling. Stymied educational opportunities result in limited economic options without possibility of breaking the continuous rounds of poverty.

Photo Courtesy of Thierry Boccon-Gibod/The Elders

To learn more about The Elders role in this initiative, I sat down with human rights advocate and “Elder” Mary Robinson, who served as the first woman President of Ireland (1990-1997) before becoming the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (1997-2002). She spoke at length about what her past experiences bring to the table.

Robinson also delved into the backstory of how The Elders were started by Nelson Mandela. The purpose was to band together a group of accomplished people who could bring their insights to the front to help with global conflict resolution. Engaging “courageous and innovative” local people on the ground “who know best what is transpiring,” Robinson outlined how The Elders have been able to form global alliances.

Starting with a strong commitment to champion the empowerment of girls and women, they recognized that the topic of child marriage needed “moral leadership.” The Elders knew they had to intervene on behalf of girls worldwide despite the sensitivity of the problem. These girls can, if allowed, become potential agents of change.

To do this Robinson understood that a push had to be made to win the hearts and minds of those who have positions as tribal leaders to individual women. Imposing a point of view solely from the top down was not going to work. There had to be a strong grassroots effort. Social institutions had to be addressed by facilitating a community dialogue, particularly in rural conservative populations where there is a strong fear of ostracism. A major piece of the puzzle included bringing men into the conversation to change the thinking on child marriage.

“It’s all part of the same issue. The role in the home is not as important,” says Robinson. “The country girl in the village has no voice. She knows from the adult that she is not as important as her brother.”

Robinson is well versed in confronting concerns that inhabit unpopular and uncomfortable spheres. Elected at the age of twenty-five to the Irish Senate—when Catholicism dominated the mores—her first goal was tackling the legislative legalization of contraceptives. (At that time, married women in Ireland had no birth control rights.) “I completely underestimated the reaction. I was denounced from pulpits,” Robinson told me. The reason? She was addressing “deeper cultural issues.” From challenging the “cultural norm,” she learned that “you need a lot of patience and understanding.”

“If we don’t promote education for girls, we won’t get to the millennium goals,” said Robinson as she circled back to the relationship of women and tradition—and the “role of religion” when it is abused and distorted to subjugate women. “Girls are losing hope for the future,” she added.

Investing in girls can change perceptions as they are valued beyond their ability to be laborers, producers of children, or second-class citizens. Even in countries where there is legislation in place, such as Ethiopia, the reality does not match the law. The average age of a girl bride is twelve.

“We need to scale up,” Robinson stated resolutely. “Child marriage is not adequately discussed.  It’s a travesty for girls and their human rights…an unacceptable practice.” However, she optimistically points out how “practices can be changed,” underscoring her belief that child marriage can be “ended in one generation.”

At the Mashable Social Good Summit, where Robinson shared the stage with Archbishop Desmond Tutu, she had the ear of an audience dialed in to the power of social media. She understands how the value of digital tools can be a “highly influential way to have a conversation about an issue that is way underestimated.” With a Twitter handle and a website set up linking to “What Can I Do?”—crowdsourcing awareness and activism on behalf of child marriage was launched.

“It’s about the oxygen of recognition and breaking the cycle,” Robinson concluded. Before she stood up to leave she added, “It’s important that we have the opportunity to advocate.”

During June 2011 travels to Ethiopian communities affected by child marriage with the 'Towards an end to child marriage' campaign, Mary Robinson asks a young woman what she remembers about her wedding day. She replies, "It was the day I left school." Photo Courtesy of Ashenafi Tibebe/The Elders

This article originally appeared on the website Women News Network.

Grey walked me through her post-injury story. She increasingly noticed that her neck had become “the weak link” in her physical health. Discomfort became even more prevalent after Grey gave birth ten years ago. As she began to have “really bad headaches,” she found herself pushing activities she enjoyed “off the table.” The pain made her feel vulnerable. However, as Grey explained, “I don’t like to complain.”

Repeatedly invited to be on Dancing With the Stars, Grey balked, She finally decided to use appearing on the show as “her carrot of motivation.” She connected with a doctor who pinpointed her problem. Her spinal cord was compressed and she needed fusion immediately. During the course of treatment, it was determined that she had a cancerous lump in her thyroid, which was then removed. Her footwork won her the top prize in the eleventh season of Dancing with The Stars.

When Purdue Pharma approached Grey to be the face of their national educational program to inform patients, caregivers, and physicians how to effectively communicate about pain management, Grey enthusiastically jumped onboard. Her motivation stemmed from her learning experience of shifting gears from “the pain is managing me” to “I’m managing the pain.” As Grey underscored, “I got my life back.”

Stats from the Institute of Medicine show that over 110 million adults in the United States “suffer from chronic pain.” The results of untreated pain can result in issues ranging from reduced mobility and function to a weakened immune system—as well as depression or anxiety.

Grey is promoting the view that patients do not have to be victims.  Partners Against Pain has set up a system of how to establish a “productive dialogue.” It is directed to both sides of the equation—patients and doctors. I was impressed that the material written for the medical community was able to acknowledge that for many doctors, listening and rapport skills need to be improved.

To build a robust patient agenda, Partners Against Pain used the results of a national survey to build out their suggestions for how to interact with practitioners at the maximum level. Key strategies include:

• Prepare for your medical appointment. Educate yourself on potential treatment choices and alternative therapies.
• Write down targeted points for discussion.
• Bring a pain diary that can help track frequency and intensity of symptoms.
• If you get nervous about presenting your concerns, practice your conversation with a friend to see if you are getting your points across.
• Bring someone with you to the appointment to function as a second set of ears.

Once at the doctor’s office, in order to establish the goals of your visit:

• Remain active in the conversation.
• Ask questions if something is not clear.
• Repeat instructions aloud to make sure you have the correct understanding of all directions.
• Find out what follow-up steps to pursue.
• Ask for recommendations for reading material about your condition.
• Learn about your prescribed medications.
• If you don’t see any improvement in your condition, ask for a referral to a physician who specializes in pain management.
• Inquire about alternative options such as acupuncture, massage, or yoga.

Accompanying Grey to the interview was Micke A. Brown from the American Pain Foundation. In answer to my question about women frequently being told that their pain is psychologically based, Brown advised, “Don’t be afraid to speak up and speak out.” Grey agreed, adding, “If someone isn’t responsive to you—move on to someone else.”

Grey discussed the additional modalities she has employed including massage, “lots of exercise,” and stretching (“I was doing some stretches for fifteen to twenty minutes before you came in,” she told me.) Grey also spoke about her work with “mindful meditation,” where she breaks down the negative physical sensations, and then separates those feelings from her cognitive thoughts. Using “mental pictures,” Grey described how “self-help talk” could help at the “cellular level,” through a “self-modification” of the pain.

The bottom line for Grey was, “Make a step. Every day take an action for yourself. Break it down. Follow the breadcrumbs. Don’t give up. Do your best. Keep going.” She reflected, “Chronic pain can be very lonely. It can have a shame-based quality.”

Translating her personal journey into viable support and advice for others was clearly satisfying to Grey. Her bottom line was, “I’m super grateful to get this message out to people.”

Photo courtesy of Tim Long

This article originally appeared on the women’s health site EmpowHER.

Spearheading these activities is the National Religious Campaign Against Torture (NRCAT).  They have been at the forefront in reaching out to religious congregations to demand answerability for the American sponsored torture that became normalized after the events of September 11.  They operate under the banner, “Torture is a Moral Issue.” Although NRCAT began as a short-term campaign, it moved into building a long-term organization.  Currently, they work to: engage faith-based groups to end torture of U.S. held detainees; terminate torture in American prisons; encourage United States policies that persuade other countries to halt their use of torture; work to end anti-Muslim sentiment in the country.

I contacted their Executive Director, Rev. Richard L. Killmer, with a list of questions via e-mail.

Was United States sponsored torture an issue before 9/11?

NRCAT was created in January 2006. The use of prolonged solitary confinement was—and still is—common in our prisons.  Rendition for torture occurred.  And there were other areas of concern as well, like The School of the Americas. After 9/11, however, techniques, like water boarding, which everyone had previously agreed were torture, became an acknowledged part of U.S. interrogation policy.

There are people who come out of the military who maintain that torture is neither a moral nor viable way to secure information.  However, the capture of Osama bin Laden once again ignited the debate as to whether torture brings results.  In addition, General Petraeus, in his recent confirmation hearings to be the head of the CIA — when asked about “enhanced interrogation techniques” replied, “I do think there is a need at the very least to address the possibility.”  Why do you think the leaders of the nation continue to be off track on this?

Torture is wrong.  This is an absolute moral principle.  Our leaders sometimes forget this.  Further, we know that torture has direct negative effects–both on our ability to obtain good information and on our efforts to defeat Al Qaeda recruiting.  In their efforts to address unrealistic hypotheticals, our leaders sometimes forget these facts as well.

In the beginning of the month, NRCAT co-hosted a panel featuring Juan Méndez, torture survivor and the Special Rapporteur on Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment for the United Nations, to discuss accountability under the law.  What were the takeaways?

The United States has a moral and legal obligation to address its past use of torture.  It is shocking that a former U.S. President has admitted to authorizing the use of torture, yet there has not been an independent, bipartisan investigation of our past use of torture.

Indefinite detention, solitary confinement, medical experiments involving torture, and closing down the Detention Center at Guantanamo Bay have been some of the malignancies NRCAT has been tackling.  How much traction do you feel has been achieved to date?

One of the high points of the Obama presidency came on his second day in office when he issued an Executive Order establishing the Army Field Manual as the standard for all interrogations and requiring that the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) be granted access to all detainees.  Unfortunately, since then we have not made permanent the ban on the use of torture or the requirement that the ICRC be given access to all detainees.  Further, we have not yet achieved any measure of accountability for the use of torture.

The group has also taken a stand about prolonged solitary confinement in prison, underscored by the reports about Bradley Manning‘s treatment.  Is torture in American prisons limited to the use of solitary confinement?

No, although it is a major, and particularly dangerous way that prisoners are mistreated.  Overzealous use of restraints, beatings, sexual abuse, and other forms of mistreatment also occur in U.S. prisons.

Are you disappointed with the performance of President Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder on torture? How could they be doing things differently?

We are grateful that President Obama issued an Executive Order banning torture.  We wish he also would support accountability for torture, and would work more aggressively to pass legislation making permanent the steps he took to ban torture.

As a follow-up, I talked to Killmer by telephone.  Despite his packed schedule, he took the time to drill down deeper on his answers.  My first inquiry was to get more clarification on his thoughts about Obama’s efforts to create a different climate on torture.  Killmer reiterated his belief that Obama’s actions in 2009 had altered the landscape.  He said, “From everything that we can tell, the policy has changed.”  He continued, “We are disappointed that Guantánamo hasn’t been closed.  It’s an awful symbol to the world.” Killmer opined that Obama had tried, and that the fault was with Congress.

Killmer mentioned that NRCAT has repeatedly called for a commission of inquiry to bring back recommendations for safeguards, which he believes to be very important.  “How did a good nation go to the dark side?” he asked,  “How did it happen?”  He continued, “We want the President to give us leadership and laws.  An Executive Order can be changed.”  Despite his appreciation and acknowledgement of Obama’s efforts in 2009, when we discussed the President’s stated desire to “look forward, not back,” Killmer’s response was a flat out, “That’s naïve.  You have to look at past behavior.  He’s wrong.  Repairing the brokenness, redemption, healing—you need the accountability.”

In discussing Bradley Manning, who has been in solitary confinement for nine months, Killmer spoke about the work that NRCAT is doing in prisons across the country “where at any given time there are 32,000 prisoners in solitary confinement.”  They are engaged in changing this situation via legislation.  In Maine, their activist campaigns have reduced those institutional numbers by 50 percent.

The NRCAT site is set up with model e-mails for action steps.  On the home page there are calls for both a “Commission of Inquiry” and an investigation into the use of solitary confinement.  Five days after General Petraeus stated that enhanced techniques could be considered in a “ticking bomb” scenario—NRCAT sent out a letter asking people to write to the President, asking that he and General Petraeus immediately reaffirm their opposition to torture and abusive interrogation techniques.

With their nationwide network, the National Religious Campaign Against Torture has taken away the excuse for being silent in the face of injustice.

Photo Courtesy of the NRCAT

We spoke about his thoughts on the political aspects of the play, challenging theatre audiences, and process.

How did you get involved with the play?

I was designing a musical called Paradise Found, which Susan Stroman was choreographing and co-directing with Hal Prince — so she and I had met on initial meetings for that project. I think Doug Aibel, the artistic director of the Vineyard theatre, had suggested me to her for The Scottsboro Boys.  Luckily for me, she liked the idea.  I had known and admired her work through my whole career, and was thrilled to get a chance to work with her. Obviously Kander & Ebb are legends, and I knew David Thompson‘s recent work with them. It was a bit overwhelming to get asked to work with such a group.

What drew you to the material?

I’m pretty passionate about intelligent musical theatre, the kind of shows pioneered by Sondheim, Kander & Ebb, and Hal Prince.  My father is a Lincoln scholar, and my mother trained as an opera singer, so the marriage of a pivotal piece of American history to a Broadway musical was right up my alley. But more than that, I love theatre that has a smart point of view…theatre that explores something more serious than middle class angst, and The Scottsboro Boys delivers that. The story of the Scottsboro Boys doesn’t seem like an obvious choice for a musical, and that tension is part of what makes the show so exciting.

 
Where you concerned about the potential volatility of using the minstrel show format?

I was thrilled by the show from the first time I saw it workshopped.  I thought the reverse minstrel show format, the post-modern minstrel show where African-American actors played white caricatures, was very exciting. It did make me a little nervous, but all except one of the cast is African-American, and our wonderful costume designer, Toni Leslie James, is African-American…so I figured if we were on thin ice they’d let us know. Obviously the whole show is full of intentionally horrible racist imagery, and it’s sensitive stuff to portray on stage.  But it’s all in service of the story’s larger message — pointing up the horrible miscarriage of justice that occurred in Scottsboro.

How did you come to your vision of the stage set?

Stroman started the process by saying she wanted a very simple set, basically the chairs of a traditional minstrel show circle, and little else. She gave me the assignment of creating all the locations we’d need for the story, out of those pieces. It was a bit overwhelming.  [I needed] a train, jail cells, courtrooms, a couple buses, and several large musical numbers. I started by trying to figure out the stage surround. I always start by grappling with the themes of a show, and how they can be expressed visually. That’s always more interesting to me that simply creating a stage set of a location. I saw the story as a sort of minstrel show in purgatory; the boys were stuck as ghosts, retelling their story. I found some images of animal skeletons partially buried, but with ribs reaching out of the earth, and it felt like the musical to me.  The Scottsboro story is an ugly chapter of American history, one we might prefer to remain buried. My initial set ideas were a sort of skeletal vaudeville proscenium, but bleached like bones and in decay, so that the lathe and beams — the bones of the architecture — were visible. Stroman, quite rightly, thought it was too literal.  But it led me to our eventual set, three skeletal frames thrust out of the ground. I always thought of it as creating the bare skeleton of a theatre.

 
What was your process?

I started with scale models of the set, and scale models of the chairs. I began working out how the chairs could interlock to create shapes that would suggest a train, or a jail window, and so forth. Once Stroman signed off on the basic approach, I had two chairs built by a scenery shop in Jersey City. They were made of a very light weight, hollow, aluminum tubing that was both very strong — so actors could dance on them, and very light — so they could be easily moved. Stroman began working with them. She had two weeks in the studio with her assistants, and she began to map out the show and how she would move the chairs from one configuration to the next. As she developed and discovered that, we had more chairs built. Ultimately, all the chairs were built, and all are slightly different from each other to serve their specific function. Chair #1 locks together with Chair #6 in an exact way, so that it’s strong enough to support five men balanced on a plank laid atop it, and so forth. The actors had to learn how each piece fit with the next, and Stroman choreographed it so it all looked effortless and magic.

 
I saw the tambourines, chairs, and planks as building blocks for the actors. How did the costume design, choreography, and your set design work together? The result seemed very collaborative.

Yes. This same scenic idea, a world built of chairs, would feel clumsy and dumb with a less deft  director. Stroman knows how to move bodies and objects in space so they feel effortless, and inevitable. I knew exactly how one scenic look changed to the next, but she controlled the audience’s focus through lighting and composition.  So, when a scene shift started, you’re looking at a guy lighting a cigar —and the next thing you know the train has transformed into a jail cell. You know you’ve just watched it happen, but you have no idea how it happened. For me as a designer, getting to play with a seemingly simple scenic idea with a director/choreographer of Stroman’s ability was a real treat…and a lesson in how to stage a musical!

When I first saw the set, the three frames spoke to me as symbols of how a story can be framed and viewed in different ways.  The gradation of a straight frame to an off-kilter frame. Was that part of your intention?

Yes.  The frames were a symbolic rib cage to me on one level, but I never expected or wanted an audience to think that literally.  They were intended to show a world off kilter. The story is about nine boys whose lives were destroyed by a simple selfish lie told by two white girls, and I wanted the set to show that dislocation. The first frame was completely square and straight, but the two upstage of it tilted further and further to the side, as if their foundations were collapsing. Additionally, all the planks on the stage floor were off square by ten degrees. It was very slight, but it made the world subtly askew. Interestingly, the dancers unconsciously aligned themselves to the floor being 10 percent off square.  In the early rehearsals, Stroman was driven nuts, because the performers couldn’t keep their dance formations on center, and they’d always drift off by 10 percent!  I was worried that I had made something impossible for them to adjust to, but they learned how to mentally adjust so that they could play straight even on the skewed floor.  I don’t know that any audience even registered that the floor was askew, but I do think it subconsciously added to the experience of the world knocked awry. I think a lot of what a set designer does functions on this level. Most people don’t register how the subtleties of the visuals are effecting their perception of the story, but they do have a powerful subliminal effect.

 
There is a sequence in the play with shadow puppet imagery.  Can you speak about how you and the team developed that?

Stroman had this fascinating — and horrifying — book from the 1930′s about how to stage an amateur minstrel show.  It was sort of a guide for community theatres. As shocking as it seems to us now, it was a very popular form of entertainment until — disturbingly — recently. I’ve seen pictures of people from my parents’ generation in blackface minstrel shows in the 50′s, when they were children. This was not in the south, but in the supposedly ‘enlightened’ northeast. Anyhow, shadow plays were a popular feature of minstrel shows.  So we decided to do the song “Make friends with the Truth” with this device. I love the brilliant use of 19th century imagery in Kara Walker‘s art, the way she uses the imagery as a sort of visual double entendre, and that informed our choices for the shadow images. They are funny, but disturbing, yet recognizable to most of us. The show continually makes us laugh at uncomfortable images. Then we feel bad for laughing.  But I think it’s a way of condemning the racist imagery, accepting that it exists, and hopefully diminishing it’s potency.

 
What hopes do you have for the future of the play? Do you see the twelve nominations as validation that the show was groundbreaking in its approach, with superior elements of acting, music, direction, scenery, and choreography?

Mostly, I hope that the play will have a future life. I feel like it will be meaningful a hundred years from now, and honestly, of the 300-some shows I’ve designed, there are only a few others I think may stand the test of time. The Tony nominations were a very nice surprise. I don’t think any of us expected them, certainly not twelve, but its very gratifying to get the recognition from the theatre community. I guess, as a historian’s kid, I always think [about] what will people think of this show after I’m dead. I hope that the issues it discusses are ancient history by then. But the American racial tensions are so deeply woven into our national identity, that the pessimistic part of me thinks we may still need stories like this one hundred years hence, to remind us of the mistakes we’ve made as a nation — so we don’t repeat them.

Photos and Diagram Courtesy of Beowulf Boritt

This article originally appeared on the website cultureID

Leymah Gbowee

The first time I heard Leymah Gbowee speak was at the 2010 Daily Beast Women in the World event in New York City.  I was familiar with her from her history-changing role in the Liberian civil war, documented in Abigail Disney’s documentary, Pray The Devil Back to Hell.  I then had the opportunity to sit down and speak with Gbowee at the Omega Women’s Institute Women and Power conference.  We talked in depth about her work to secure the reproductive and sexual rights of African women.

Pointing out the intrinsic link between women’s health and on the ground conflict, Gbowee said, “You can’t talk about maternal mortality without looking at the implications of peace and conflict.”  She correlated how countries with the highest negative statistics have sustained civil wars.  Liberia has 994 maternal deaths per every 100,000 births — one of the worst rates in the world.  These dismal figures have given Gbowee a “new sense of purpose.”

Her current portfolio extends beyond just reproductive rights —terminology which in Gbowee’s estimation “side-steps critical issues.”  For her, it boils down to “not owning your own body as an African women,” and she is straightforward about what she acknowledged as a prevalent problem — “harmful traditional practices.”  She asked rhetorically, “”How do we address the chiefs on FGM?” Reflecting on the need to “sit down with these men,” Gbowee said, “We haven’t yet taken big, deep steps on FGM because we are from a highly traditional, cultural background.”  She added, “The message on FGM has to be refined so that you don’t offend your mothers, your grandmothers — because they are all believers in this practice, even if they went to school.”  Reiterating that people’s traditional values are part of their identity, Gbowee was emphatic about the importance of how messages are structured so that “people don’t think you are attacking them.” Pragmatically, she has no illusions about the fact that taking on the FGM matter is a “huge thing to confront.”

Gbowee discussed the importance of continuing the prevalence of women’s leadership roles after President Ellen Sirleaf steps down.  Commenting on the challenges of a post-conflict society, Gbowee insisted, “The same efforts we put into sensitizing people into ending violence, we need to put into the renewed form of democracy — and I think that is where we failed.”  She explained, “Communities are groping in the dark, because they have never functioned in a functional society.  We have a whole generation of people who have only known war.  They are used to chaos because that is the only language that they understand.  Our role as activists and advocates is to really show them how to function.”  After pausing a moment, she reflected, “It’s overwhelming.  There’s so much to do.”

In Gbowee’s estimation, American women also have challenges that need to be addressed.  This topic came up in response to our conversation about CEDAW, and the inability for the agreement to get national traction.  She referenced the disadvantages that come from not signing the international treaty.  Totally frank in her assessment questioning America’s ability to provide cogent leadership on women’s issues, Gbowee pointed to matters that leaders “don’t want to tackle.”   She said, “If a President or Secretary of State is standing up and making statements about the rapes in Congo, and that same country has not signed a document that is so important to the lives of their women —what other name do you give it but hypocrisy?”

Part of our exchange included how important it was for those working to help women under siege, to truly engage in an equal dialogue.  “There is a need to speak to the women of these countries,” Gbowee said.  She told me a story about a trip she had taken to Congo where she had spoken with women on the ground, and learned that for them “rape was at the bottom of the list.”  At the top — was “political participation.”  For those women, “rape is a symptom of an actual issue.”  She continued, “We want to help. But we need to step out of our donor driven issues and step into what it is that these communities actually want.”  On Afghanistan she articulated, “We need to say to the women of Afghanistan, ‘What is your opinion? How is it [the troops] affecting you?  What added value is it bringing? What are the disadvantages?’” Gbowee added with crystal honesty, “It’s not good enough to sit in a Hilton or a Sheraton talking about Afghanistan’s issues.”

Trying to get a handle on the pervasive brutality against women, I asked Gbowee what she thought was at the root of such systemic violence.  After a thoughtful pause, she answered, “You ask, ‘Why is it this way?’  I think it is all part of the power dynamics that are affiliated with patriarchy. Let’s maintain this status, this way of life.”

Elaborating on this train of thought she offered, “If the leaders of the world were truly committed to women’s issues and were making those issues political issues — putting sanctions on countries that were doing nothing about honor killings, femicides, and all of these things…It would bring it to an end.  But this is the structure and system of power.

If President Obama stood up and made a solid statement about domestic violence in this country [United States], people would sit up.  If he went to the U.N. and made a statement about the abuses of women across the world and just added some sanctions to it — people would sit up.  But it’s all about the dynamics of power in my opinion.”

She concluded with the pithy observation, “In order to empower people, some one is going to have to give up some power.”

Photo Courtesy of Michael Angelo/Wonderland

©2011 Women News Network – WNN
No part of this article may be reproduced without prior permissions from WNN &/or the author

The Lifeplayer in an outdoor class

Kristine Pearson is the CEO of Lifeline Energy (formerly known as Freeplay Foundation), an organization that is delivering self-powered energy solutions to impoverished populations throughout the world.

I met with Pearson when she was in New York City to launch “Lifeplayer,” an MP3-enabled radio that she described as bridging “Internet, cellular, media player, and radio technologies.”  The three-band radio and recorder does not require batteries or electricity and is both solar and self-powered.

Pearson, who was named by Time magazine as a Hero of the Environment for 2007, spoke passionately about how the “easy to use device” could provide communication capabilities, essential “on-demand” education, and business or financial literacy programs—in even the most isolated localities.  Recognized for her initiatives by the Schwab Foundation for Social Enterprise, Pearson reiterated the term “energy poverty” in her explanation of how the Lifeplayer is a “game changer” that will give people access to continuing information resources. Downloads range from life-skills tutorials to weather reports and farming know-how. The constituency of her organization is “the critically poor person.”  Only six percent of rural Africans have access to electricity.  Most importantly, Pearson underscored the inherent opportunities for the “democratization of education,” which in turn enables societies to grow and move forward.

The Lifeplayer is a vehicle for group instruction, workable for at least sixty listeners at a time.  Created solely for use in the “humanitarian sector,” it can be pre-loaded with up to 64 GB of material.  Programming can be updated with a microSD™ card, live voice can be recorded onto the device, and it operates in disparate climates. The fact that it is power independent, alleviating concern about electricity or battery demands, is of the utmost importance in rural areas. The wireless solar panel can also charge a cell phone through a USB lead.  Considering that people walk miles to charge their phones in these settings, that is a major benefit.  A hand crank serves as a secondary energy source.

Hollywood heavyweights have rallied to support the Lifeplayer, including George Clooney, Laurie David, and Tom Hanks—who has been Lifeline’s “American Ambassador” since September 2003. At the helm, Pearson has been a forceful advocate, pinpointing how the Lifeplayer can “democratize education—inspiring people to learn at their own pace.”

A repeated point of reference for Pearson was her emphasis on how this tool can change the lives of girls and women.  She said, “If we can get education and information to rural women in Africa, then you start to change outcomes.”  Pearson underscored that women were “information have-nots.” The Masaai women in Kenya that Pearson told me about have never turned on a radio.  Now they are listening to political programs, and learning about their rights.

In Kenya, where the refugee camps are comprised of people who have left Somalia to escape the civil wars, over 70 percent are women.  Only 1 in 500 of those women had access to radios, according to a UNHCR study. Pearson’s group worked with content providers to develop material about female genital mutilation.  This has opened a dialogue about the issue, raising awareness of the inherent health risks that include HIV and death from bleeding.  Facts have been disseminated to village and clan leaders, and the program has grown over the past four years.  Pearson describes it as being a “very powerful project.”

The Lifeplayer has also affected the children of Rwanda—where there are one million orphans as a result of the genocide.  Children run 100,000 households in the country; those between the ages of 9-21 are overwhelming destitute.  For them, the radio has boosted their self-esteem.  They have gone from being humiliated about not being able to read or write and feeling “they don’t know anything,” to learning “practical stuff.”  Pearson spoke about a 17-year-old boy who was the caretaker for his two younger sisters.  Through informational lessons he learned about nutrition, the physical needs and proper care of his sisters, and how to effectively parent them.

Currently, ten African countries—including Malawi, Kenya, and Somaliland—have education curriculum on the radio.  All programs are locally created in vernacular languages. In Zambia, testing results in math and science for “informally schooled” children were superior.  The students who went through the radio schooling, met or exceeded, the testing results of their peers in public government schools.  As a result, the government bought 8,000 radios to use countrywide.

Tom Hanks has said, “Lifeline’s technologies can change the world—one person, one house, one village at a time.”  Of the people that Pearson has seen impacted by the radio, she commented, “This can travel to them…and open up their world.”

Photo Courtesy of Lifeline Energy

This article originally appeared on the website WomenMakeNews.