Zac Parsons

Two weeks ago, I showed many of my students a PSA (public service announcement) at the beginning of class.  It is surprisingly powerful and emotional.  In fact, since it’s less than two minutes long, I will just let the video make it’s own point without me spoiling anything.

March 3, 2010 marked the official day to “Spread the Word to End the Word”.  The word that we are looking to end is the r-word, which can stand for both “retard” and “retarded”.  Really, we just want it’s derogatory use to stop.  When someone uses that word to describe or color something as “stupid” or “less than” in some way, it’s more than just being insensitive; it’s bullying.

Even though I do not have any close family members who deal with a cognitive disability or who are differently abled in some way, I knew that many of my students do.  Inspired by r-word.org, We got together this past week to shoot a quick video and make our own PSA.

It’s been a fantastic experience.  I’ve already had a high school student approach me to say that she has been convinced to forever change her language because of this.

I’d say that is a pretty good start.

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Even though I may not be able to make a sailor blush, I’ve been known to run a blue streak with my mouth from time to time.  Most of the time, it has been a moment of anger that would inspire an outburst of coarse or profane language from my lips.  But, with my close friends, I felt comfortable enough to let a few s-words and f-bombs fly in the midst of regular conversation.

I can vividly remember the first time that I said “Goddamnit” in Matti’s basement, with my friend Ryan glaring at me in silent horror.  At the time, I felt shame and regret, but that didn’t stop me from arguing about the word’s relative evil or sinfulness compared to the others that we threw around as teenagers.  Most of the other swear words or put-downs that I employed in my youth didn’t seem to have much to do with the situation or people that I inflicted them on.  There wasn’t a real victim in my choice of language (other than my own vocabulary and the object of my malice, of course).  It wasn’t as if a proctologist would wince every time I said “a–hole” without regards for the literal definition of the word.

Not a lot has changed in my foul-language patterns since that time.  I’m not a saint, and my angry moments can still stir up the more colorful part of my tongue.

However, there is one word that has always given me pause.  It’s not just speaking it that bothers me, it’s hearing it as well.  In fact, it’s been almost 20 years since I used the r-word (retard) in a derogatory way.

Corky and the family from "Life Goes On"

I’m not sure why this word offended me so deeply, like the n-word.  I didn’t have a close friend or family member that was retarded or developmentally disabled in some way.  My closest relationship to anyone with a mental retardation was Corky from “Life Goes On“.  I don’t say that in jest.  I have always had an unusually close relationship with television characters.  I have kids named Kiefer and Evangeline.  I understand that it is a little odd, but it has always been an easy way for me to relate to the rest of humanity.

Nonetheless, when anyone would say the r-word, I would immediately imagine Corky standing next to me, turning to me, and asking the question: “Is that person saying that there is something wrong with me?”  This imaginary friend of mine helped me to keep my lips sealed from uttering the r-word in that context ever again.

During my sixth grade geography class yesterday, we somehow began a discussion about the r-word.  I asked the students if anyone had a family member who would be considered retarded.  A student raised his hand and shared some details about his uncle.  I explained my thoughts on the r-word and the lack of tolerance that would offered in my classes in regards to that word.

We talk about meaningful topics quite a bit, but this seemed different.  They were silent.  Pensive.  It was a powerful moment.  I could almost see the wheels turning in the minds of my students as they considered the potency of that word in their own vernacular.

Last night, I noticed that Sarah Palin has taken up a campaign against the usage of the r-word.  Although it may have started out as a political move to draw attention to White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel’s use of the r-word  in reference to liberal democrats, the point is well taken by Republicans and Democrats.  It brings to mind the uproar caused by President Obama on the Tonight Show last year, captured in this CNN.com article from spring of 2009.

Political motivation aside, I actually agree with and commend Mrs. Palin for her stand against this word.  Kudos and cool points to her on this.

In less than a month, on 03-03-10, an organization is gearing up to spread awareness about ridding the world of the r-word, or at least as it is all to commonly used right now.  This group is an offshoot of the Special Olympics.  Their website is www.r-word.org, and even features an “r-word counter”, where you can see how often your favorite websites have used the r-word (Disclaimer: www.zacparsons.com was proudly r-word free before the publishing of this article.).  There are resources of how to get involved in the quest to “Spread the word, to end the word”.

Of note, there is a video of John C. McGinley (Scrubs) giving a talk to a group of elementary school students about using the r-word.

I’ve stopped using the r-word for a long time now.  I’d be proud and encouraged if you chose to do the same.  What do you say?

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A couple of months ago, I stumbled across a video about an author named Samir Selmanovic on Zach Lind’s website.  If you don’t want to make the jump, you can just watch the video here:

The video was exactly the breath of fresh air that my religion-weary lungs needed to take in.  I started a quest to learn more about this man, this book, and this new perspective on my faith that might rescue it from the toilet bowl it has been sitting in for the past several years.

I became a fan of his book on Facebook, ordered his book from Amazon, and basically fell in love with his spirit and perspective on the most important things in life.  Samir is a sage.  I highly recommend his book to people that ponder the mysteries of life, God, and one’s relationship to the “other”.

To give you a unique look at Samir, check out this video that his daughters made to encourage people to NOT purchase this book:

I don’t want to discuss too much of the book without you.  I want you to read it and talk about it with me and others on this website.

If you’re still not sure what this book is about, and you aren’t much for watching videos, check out this interview of Samir by Robin Russell.  Here is my favorite quote from Samir from that interview:

We are going through a period where what it means to be religious is changing. Religion has to adjust to an interdependent world. In the past, the strong city was a city with big walls. But today, the strong city is the city that has more bridges and airports and links. Links make you strong, and links are also boundaries, so we can have our identity. If our roots go deeper, we can afford to take off some walls.

So, if you can’t find the book locally, just buy it here.  If you want to talk more about this book through this website, let me know in the comments.  If we have enough people involved, Samir may be willing to participate in a group Skype chat with us.  Sounds pretty great to me!

Cheers and Namaste!

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In the fall of 2008, I was lost.  I had just arrived at the Toussaint Louverture International Airport in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.  My instructions from Lenny were to wait for a man named Nader (like Darth Vader), and to NOT GO OUTSIDE.  Nader was the man who was supposed to taxi me to a smaller airport to catch a propeller plane to Port-de-Paix on the northern coast of the country.  Well, after getting my bags, I just kept walking.  Wouldn’t you know, I ended up outside after all.

Although it was just like Lenny had described it to me, it was a far cry from the peaceful view of  the city that I had observed on my flight in.  A sea of people, at least 10 deep on each side, were beckoning and hollering at me as soon as I came into eyeshot.  Since I don’t speak Creole, I couldn’t make out what was being said to me.  I picked up on a “taxi” here, and a “American” there.  A Haitian woman approached me and offered me a taxi ride.  I told her that I was looking for Nader, and she said that Nader was not there.  I didn’t want to offend her, but I also didn’t want to go with her.  Suddenly, a man in the middle of the crowd yelled “Sack!”, which I have come accustomed to responding to, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

My relief was short lived though, as this man was not Nader, and he informed me that Nader was not there, but he could help me.  Because he had called out my name, I had to trust that he was a friend of Nader’s and would be able to help me with the rest of my journey to my friends.  I told him that I was scheduled to fly out on a Tortug’ Air flight to Port-de-Paix in less than 90 minutes.  ”Port-de-Paix?” he said.  ”We go now!”

The roads in Port-au-Prince are not all paved, and those that are are not painted for opposing traffic to each know which lane is theirs.  It was one of the more white knuckled passenger experiences of my life.  When my driver wasn’t zig-zagging through oncoming traffic, he was laying on the horn with the drivers in front of us with the audacity of driving at a reasonable speed.  But, all is well that ends well, and we arrived at the regional airport in time to catch an early flight to Port-de-Paix.  My driver negotiated my ticket exchange on the earlier flight, and I wished him well with a five dollar handshake.

Sitting in the final airport of my trip (I had been in the Phoenix Sky Harbor and Miami International Airport just the day before), I was anxious for the reunion with my best friends from college: Lenny and Warren.  The last time that we had all been together was at our mutual friend Phil’s wedding in the summer of 2003.  Our time apart (five years) had been longer than our time together (four years of college), and freaky coincidences had kept us apart.  Warren had asked me to be a groomsman at his wedding in 2004.  My son’s imminent birth prevented me from participating or even attending (a pretty understandable excuse).  My involvement in Lenny’s wedding was preempted by my daughter’s birth in 2006 (again, an understandable choice).  Randy was a little sullen when the birth of my third child did not coincide with his marriage.

When people around me started moving towards the gate, I figured it was a good time to follow them.  I ended up with a seat in the front of the propeller plane just a few feet longer than a Suburban.  This was the view in front of me:  

while this was the view behind me:

After flying in jumbo jet for my most of my life, I was not prepared for the amount of turbulence that a plane this size would experience, even on a clear and pleasant day.  I decided to grab my camera and document my own death, were it to occur during this harrowing flight.  I got a decent shot of the city:

Glad to still be winning the fight against gravity, I managed to snap a shot of the Haitian mountains (and a bit of the propeller):

Less than 45 minutes into the flight, we were descending.  The shadow on the ground became larger and larger:

Finally, with children running and waving along the dirt runway, my plane landed in Port-de-Paix.  Instead of collecting my bags at the baggage claim, they were handed to me as I walked toward the airport building.  In the new sea of faces at this airport, I looked for any that I would recognize, but to no avail.  My early flight had put me in the right place, at the wrong time.

Not knowing how large the city was, or if anybody knew of these American guys named Warren and Lenny, I blurted out the name of their school, to nobody in particular.  ”Sonlight?”  A man next to me asked, in confirmation.  ”Yes!  Si!  Oui!” I said all at once like the confused outsider that I was.  Holding up a cell phone, he said: “I call Sonlight.”

After looking at this man’s clothing, I immediately felt an odd sense of familiarity.  He was wearing the jersey of the French soccer star David Trezequet, number 17 from Juventus.

He punched in some numbers and handed me the phone.  A Hatian voice greeted me on the other end.  The voice informed me that Lenny and Warren were busy and unable to come to the phone.  He would have them come to the airport to get me as soon as they were located.

So, I waited.  Even though my new buddy with the Trezeguet jersey had made me feel more at ease, he was suddenly gone.  In case something were to happen to me, I still had the strange urge to document it on film.  So I took in my surroundings, in HD:

After about 30 minutes, my main man with the zebra stripes ran up to me.

“Sonlight?  Sonlight?” he called out towards me, with his eyes and hands beckoning me to follow him.  I grabbed my bag and stepped through the gate into the city.  Just a few steps away was a banged up old pick up truck with the brake lights on.  Then, the brake lights turned off, both the passenger and driver side doors opened, and both of my friends emerged with grins even goofier than my own to welcome me to their home.  While I wasn’t able to capture that moment with any lenses outside of my physical body.  I made sure to grab a shot of the two of them before we settled in for the ride back to their homes and families.  I spruced it up in iPhoto a bit, just for dramatic effect:

Warren (left) and Lenny (right)

To be continued…

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Although “Beau Lotto” sounds like a raffle game for hunky men, it’s actually the name of a visual scientist from London who specializes in the psychological impact of our sense of vision.  The video above is of his talk given at TED in the summer of 2009.  He has 18 minutes to explain the purpose of his research, and suggest the potential impact it has on us as individuals and as a society.  In fact, the front page of his site has a quote I was absolutely fascinated by:

Our hope is to engender a more empathic view of nature and human nature by creating spaces of understanding that are indifferent to the contrived boundaries between disciplines. (And people within those disciplines).

The Lotto Lab site has a great section on psychology about how our brains use past understanding of an experience to inform and translate what it is perceiving currently.  This, in effect, negates the idea of objectivity in many of the areas in which it is currently applied.  The world would be quite a different place if everyone treated objectivity as a myth and acknowledge their own biases toward self-interest.

Examples like this hopefully more than just fun for a few minutes time.  We use many optical illusions like this in our curriculum at The Pacific Institute.  Understanding how we understand things is key to the peace and harmony that world has been seeking.

Any thoughts on this video or this idea of our past memories informing our perception of the present?

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Malcolm Gladwell is my favorite writer and one of the brightest thinkers I have come across.  He was invited to give a talk at TED.com, which is a website sprung from an organization dedicated to discussing “ideas worth spreading” in the fields of Technology, Entertainment, and Design (TED).  The video below is from his talk in February 2004 and is about 17 minutes long.

Gladwell illustrates the lessons from his story about Howard Moskowitz pretty darn well, so I won’t add much.

I too often find myself obsessed with universals and trying to discover the rules that govern the way that all of us behave.  The idea of variability and diversity is very intriguing.  In truth, there may only be a handful of universals amidst a sea of beautiful diversity and variables.  It seems to me that a large proportion of our conflicts and wars are due to leaders mistaking a variable truth for one that is universal, and then attempting to impose it on the masses.

Even attempting to give something as universal as “freedom” to another culture can fail based on the variable understandings and perspectives on freedom.

The older I get, the less “black and white” the world gets.  While I always knew that “There’s no wrong way to eat a Reese’s”, I didn’t extrapolate that principle to many other areas of my life.  There always seemed to be a right way to do this, and a wrong way to do that.  The more I understand about my own perception, the less faith I have in my ability to discern things that are ALWAYS right or ALWAYS wrong.

Since taste seems to be obviously chock full of variability, where does that principle end?  What is universal?

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It’s hard not to love this story and the people involved in it.

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If you missed last night’s Letterman show, where he publically apologized to his wife for the pain that his infidelity has caused her, you can catch a clip here:

This CNN.com article tells more about the details of the extortion attempt, and the 15 years in prison that the suspect, Robert “Joe” Halderman, is facing if convicted.  It also speaks of the crowd’s response to his apology, which is what I would like to discuss here.

The overall sentiment of the audience seemed to be one of compassion and forgiveness.  There was only one quote in the article.  But judging by the crowd’s reaction to his comments, it seemed to be indicative of most present:

You could tell he’d been though a difficult situation and that he was sorry that he hurt other people, but he was also able to keep it funny, throw humor into it, too.

Now it may be too early too early to start judging this, but it is currently fresh in a lot of our minds.  Since the story just broke last week, it is interesting how quickly the public has been willing and able to forgive Letterman his transgressions.  It flies in the face of the adage:  ”Time heals all wounds”.

In the last week, we have talked about Roman Polanski, Jon Gosselin, and now David Letterman.  Three different men, with three different circumstances with females, and three different public responses.

Other than from his own peers, most of the public opinion (and some Hollywood opinion apparently) on Polanski is that he is guilty and should not be shown any leniency because of his age, celebrity, or citizenship status.  While his behavior violated a trust between two people, it also violated our laws to protect children, and the public outrage may be louder due the clear process of investigation and possible punishment that he is avoiding.  Still, the fact that Polanski fled the country and the situation did not garner much support then, and it would not now either.

Jon Gosselin’s affairs have been blasted on the front of nearly every celebrity magazine and website that exists over the last 9 months.  Whether he thought his private indiscretions would stay private, or if he was banking on the goodwill he gained as a “Super-dad” of 8 kids to counterbalance his actions, it’s pretty clear that he was wrong.  Although he made a half-hearted apology, public opinion on Mr. Gosselin is still decidedly against him.  He still hasn’t fully owned up to his actions, and forgiveness has not been offered in lieu of that.

David Letterman took a direct path to reconciliation and forgiveness, by taking responsibility for his actions.  Even the attorney for Mr. Halderman noted how quickly Letterman addressed this, saying:

He wanted to get out ahead of the story and that’s exactly what he did.

Whether it was an attempt to get ahead of the story or a sincere mea culpa, the effect is hard to dispute:  people value the truth.  When you are honest about your behavior, even if it is offensive, you are more likely to be accepted and forgiven by your peers or your society.  Well, unless you are not believed or trusted.  That’s another story altogether.

Thoughts?

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If you do, then you may love this interview of David Bazan from one of the editors at emusic.com.  If you have no idea who that is, then check out an album, or don’t worry about it.

Here is the link. Enjoy!

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You may have seen this video already, or it may remind you of other videos like it from the past couple of years.  The stats were compiled this summer, so it’s a fairly current picture of the internet culture and social media.  It’s less than five minutes, so check it out:

Now, if you said: “WTF is _________?”, about something referenced on the video, it may be prudent to search out more information about it to educate yourself.

If you just said:  ”What is ‘WTF’?”, then you are probably my mother.  And if so…. thanks for piano lessons.  I really do appreciate it.

(Thanks to Jabez LaBret for first posting this at http://www.jabezproductions.com/blog/)

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Click here to watch the video at abc.com.

There is a short video at abc.com about the perils of Facebook addiction and some of the tell-tale signs of an addict.  Maybe you sat there watching the video like me and said:  ”Hey, I do that!”  Ok, hopefully not the stalking of ex-lovers.  I’d like to look at the proposed signs of addiction and see what if there is anything else that we could be addicted to by following such behavior.

1.  You are losing sleep because of it

Well, I’ve lost sleep over issues at work, homework for college, anticipation for Christmas, and diarrhea.  Heck, I’ve even lost sleep over this website!  But I would have to say that the biggest cause of me losing sleep in my live as been over the stress or conflict of a relationship.  People matter to me and probably to you to.  It’s hard to just turn that off just because the ticking clock says that you should.

2.  You spend more time on Facebook than you intend

Oh wow, I could really come up with a long list for this one.  Eating, drinking, playing games, watching TV, watching movies, etc.  There are a ton of things in my life that I spend more time on than I intended.  In my counseling session yesterday (which is going very well, by the way), we discussed my tendency to want to keep a conversation going past the end of a specific social occasion.  If we are supposed to leave the dinner by 8pm, but the conversation is flowing, I tend to want to keep it going, rather than submit to the original intention.

3.  You become obsessed with an old love

Ok, this is the one that really does not seem healthy.  But, does a desire for an old flame qualify as an addiction of some sort?  Or is it just dishonest behavior towards your current partner?  It’s probably ok if you run into somebody at the grocery store, but to see them on Facebook????  Fathers, lock up your daughters.  (Or maybe just become friends with them and notice who their friends are.)

4.  You ignore work or responsibilities in favor of Facebook

I guess the same could be said about talking to the co-worker who sticks his head in your office to chat about last night’s game (or last night’s episode of Jon and Kate plus 8, if you have my friends).  Why use Facebook when there is work to be done?  If only I had the video’s narrator to stand behind me with a whip, then I might lay off of the FB for a while.  One can only dream.

5.  The thought of logging off leaves you in a cold sweat

Ok, this sounds like a physiological problem here.  I’ve heard of drug addicts getting cold sweats during some sort of withdrawal.  I guess if someone is experiencing this, perhaps they really are addicted.  I’ll relent with my sarcasm a bit.

Really, Facebook is my playground.  It’s got the jungle gym, the swings, the soccer field, and yes… even the tether-ball pole.  I had so much fun on my school’s playground as a kid during recess.  My first kiss was out there, my first ass kicking was received out there (right after the first kiss, actually), and a lot of great bonds were formed.  But, after school when the playground was empty, I was done with it.  Without the people to share the playground with, it was just a shell.

Facebook has become a real community for me.  Life happens on Facebook, and I don’t have to worry about being judged by the clothes that my mom sewed for me.  I can apply most of these addictive signs to my feelings about FB, but I’m glad for them.  My friends and peers have made up a huge part of who I am.  They still do.

Maybe Facebook is an addiction for some, but for me, it has become the playground.  Are you addicted?  See you at recess!

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One of my associates at The Pacific Institute, Angela Nesbitt, is working with the Manhattan Criminal Court in New York City to help with some of their juvenile offenders.  Instead of strict incarceration, they had 24 youth go through the PX2 program and are now tracking the youth with regular follow up.  The hope is that these young people not only turn from a pattern of criminal behavior, but that they become responsible and active members of the community in a positive manner.

Angela’s passion for the program grew to a new level after her daughter went through it in February.  She loved the program for youth aimed at helping them succeed at their goals and dreams, but watching it bring new focus to her daughter was a proud and powerful testimony for her.

The different settings in which PX2 has shown to be an appropriate program is surprising a lot of people.  It’s application reaches beyond the world of sports and leadership training.  If your group of young people would like more information about PX2 and how it can be implemented, please contact me at zparsons@pac-inst.com, or click on the PX2 link in the header of this page.

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