Looking back: My first odyssey to Saipan was quite a trip

Maila! Again, I feel Saipan calling me. Maila! Come.

Whenever I mention that I was an exchange student to Saipan, the first question is predictable: Where is that?
I respond: Do you know where Guam is located? If the answer is yes, "where" is easy to address. If not, I fall back on references to Japan and the Philippines.

Often, the next question is: Why did you decide to go there?Easy answer: I didn't. Someone else, someone I've never met, made that decision.

While preparing to return again the island, I can't help but think back to my first odyssey decades ago.

I'd always been an explorer by nature, curious, wanting to see new, unfamiliar places, but, by age 16, I hadn't had opportunities to reach that far. That all began to change when posters beckoning students to apply for the AFS Americans Abroad Program grabbed my attention.

So I applied, not expecting it to actually lead anywhere, but, to my amazement, it did. Within a week or so after turning 17, I received notice that I was guaranteed a placement for the coming summer.

Wondering where weighed on my mind for the next several months. The biggest distraction during this waiting period was working on my high school's spring musical, "South Pacific," about American service people (I played a sailor called The Professor) on tropical Pacific islands. In hindsight, perhaps that was an omen.

In mid-May (a month before departure), the official word came. I was going to the United Nations Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands ... Micronesia ... Saipan, Mariana Islands.

In those pre-Internet, pre-Google, pre-Wikipedia Dark Ages, information about such far-off places was tough to come by. I came across an article in an old National Geographic at the public library and a tourism guide to the South Pacific. Not much else.

When D-Day arrived that June, I embarked on my first commercial airplane trip, by myself, headed for orientation in Los Angeles.

The hotel was filled with teen-ager -- AFSers headed to Australia, Japan, Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia. I soon learned that only three students -- Pam from Kansas, Susan from Virginia and me -- were going to Micronesia. And my two comrades were headed for Palau, while I alone was Saipan-bound.

In Los Angeles, I picked up another piece of information: We three were the very first American AFS students sent to Micronesia. We were pioneers -- in my mind, like the Apollo 11 astronauts landing on the moon for the first time.

To further heighten the adventure anxiety factor, we learned upon landing on Guam about a communications mix-up regarding our arrival date (a miscalculation involving the international dateline). Our arrival had been expected two days earlier. Original plans called for a one-day orientation on Guam, then heading to our host islands -- yesterday.

So plans had changed: The girls would have a day on Guam, awaiting the next flight to Palau. I was to depart for Saipan just a few hours after arriving on Guam -- barely enough time to freshen up and catch my breath.

Before the last leg of this journey, I learned that, because of the mix-up, I might not be met at the airport, and would have to locate a phone and call a four-digit number to get picked up.

So, yes, I was feeling rather anxious as the jet sped toward Saipan.

Then, I got my first glimpse of the island. I felt awed and overwhelmed.

But when the plane touched down on the jungle-shrouded runway, that feeling turned to terror. What I had gotten myself into?The "terminal" at Kobler Field ... a wood-frame, open-air structure ... looked nothing like the major airports I'd seen along the way.

Dazed and confused, I ambled behind other passengers toward the gate, completed my immigration forms, then stepped out into the unknown.

Fortunately, my fears of not being met didn't materialize. Getting a warm welcome and meeting my host father immediately eased my anxiety -- although I still felt dazed and confused.

My journey to Saipan had come to a successful conclusion, and the real adventure began.

Now, I'm ready for the next chapter in my Saipan saga to unfold. It's no longer a journey into the exotic unknown, but it's a homecoming, a renewal.

Promoting Literacy with a Chalkboard

Why is literacy/reading important to you?

Why should someone learn to read?

What inspires you to read, to learn, to tutor?

During the fall of 2013, my work with the Literacy Network included launch of the Chalkboard Project, a public service campaign to raise awareness about the importance of literacy and to promote programs that help members of the Dane County community improve their literacy skills.

The concept sprang from a discussion in the Literacy Network Board's marketing committee, and is quite simple.

The project provides Literacy Network learners, tutors, staff members and board members, along with community members, an opportunity to share thoughts and inspirational messages about the importance of literacy and reading.

Because images can speak more powerfully than words alone, each participant was invited to write the message on a small chalkboard and – to put faces with words – be photographed with the chalkboard.

In September, the Literacy Network began sharing these images through Facebook and LinkedIn, posting up to three per week. Others have been encouraged to further share the photos with their own networks to express support for efforts to improve literacy skills and enhance of the lives in the community.

Volunteer Kim Keyes photographed the learners and tutors featured in the project, while I photographed several board members, civic and community leaders, and members of the local media.

The project has continued through the end of 2013, and I hope to do a second round in 2014, giving more people a chance to express their thoughts.

Meantime, I've posted my Chalkboard images on Flickr to continue sharing the messages. Here is the link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/29720498@N08/sets/72157638932776836/
 

Making a case for the Global Education Achievement Certificate

(I have long been an advocate for international education and one of the architects of the Global Education Achievement Certificate policy adopted by the Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction. In this piece, I discuss the thinking behind the policy and why Wisconsin school districts should adopt it. This also has been posted on the Global Wisconsin blog.)

In a rare consensus, Wisconsin leaders in business, government, and education, among others, agree on the necessity of preparing students to become globally competent citizens – that is, citizens who have the knowledge, skills and attitudes that enable them to live, work and interact in a diverse, interconnected world.

The Governor’s WITCO Task Force on International Education made that clear with its 1998 recommendations, as did the State Superintendent’s International Education Council in its 2005 report, Global Literacy for Wisconsin.

Increasingly, students are recognizing that acquiring global skills and knowledge can open doors to greater educational, career, and personal opportunities – and they want access to these pathways.

The recommendations include not only beefing up instruction in world languages and social studies, but also infusing global perspectives across the curriculum. After all, many of today’s challenges are international in nature, from health and environmental science to business and commerce, and our educational system needs to reflect this.

Educators, community and business leaders brought together at the April 2011 meeting of the Statewide International Education Council and at the Wisconsin Global Education Summit in February 2012, and high school students who attended the first Wisconsin Global Youth Summit in February 2013 called for doing more to foster the development of global citizenship across the state.

In response, State Superintendent Tony Evers this fall unveiled the Wisconsin Global Education Achievement Certificate – the first statewide policy of this kind in the nation – to provide a framework for schools to begin translating years of recommendations into practice. 

The Global Education Achievement Certificate enables graduating high school students to earn recognition for successfully completing a broad international curriculum and engaging in co‐curricular activities and experiences that foster the skills and knowledge that today’s marketplace values.

Under the policy, each district defines its own criteria for awarding the Global Scholars designation, within the guidelines. Mindful of the diversity among districts across the state, the policy provides flexibility, while maintaining sufficient rigor to ensure that the certificate has value.

Aware of today’s fiscal landscape for public education, the working group that shaped this policy sought to ensure that districts could implement the certificate program at little or no added expense.

As architects of the policy, we recognized that our schools already have many of the key curricular components for global education. We set out to provide a framework to tie these pieces together, while also encouraging schools to strengthen international content where possible and appropriate.

The co-curricular and service components of the certificate program are intended, in part, to encourage students and schools to identify and reach out to international resources within their communities and around the state. In addition to universities and colleges, these resources can include businesses with international connections, immigrants, cultural organizations, and individuals with international interests, experiences and expertise – such as returned Peace Corps Volunteers.

Many of us who are engaged in international education believe that Wisconsin already has significant capacity to advance the goals that have been repeatedly articulated, if only we connect these resources in a coherent framework. The Wisconsin Global Education Achievement Certificate policy aims to do just that.

Kerry G. Hill

President, Global Wisconsin, Inc.

Member, State Superintendent's International Education Council

Director of Public Affairs, University of Wisconsin-Madison Division of International Studies

Want to use my photo? That all depends...

I often use a camera in my work, but much of the photography I do is for personal enjoyment. And that enjoyment includes sharing my photos -- for viewing -- on my Flickr site.

On occasion, I receive inquiries about using my images -- on websites, in publications and even on displays. In some cases, I allow my photos to be used free of charge (but always with a photo credit) ... mostly by friends or for non-profit causes that I support. The key considerations: Is someone using my photos to make a profit? Are my photos being used in a way that is in line with my personal views and beliefs?

Sometimes, requests come from for-profit sources, such as a magazine, newspaper or (in one case) a publisher of telephone directories. In those instances, I allow use of my photos for fee (usually a standard fee), photo credit and copy of the published work.

For me, this is not about the money itself, but the publication's acknowledgement of the quality of my work by paying for it, as well as the principle that for-profit publications should pay writers and photographers for using their work.

A couple of weeks ago, I received a request by an author who wanted to use one of my photos (with full credit, of course) in an updated edition of his book. I found that that first edition could be purchased on Amazon. In reply, I simply asked about his proposed terms of use -- thinking that I should receive at least a token payment and a copy of his book. Apparently, he thought the lure of a photo credit should be sufficient, so he never replied.

Just this week, I received a request from a newspaper asking to use one of my photos in an upcoming special section. I've received payments for photos used in publications smaller than this one, so I thought it only fair to inquire about a fee. Response: Sorry, we don't pay fees for use of outside photos, but we'll give you a photo credit. My response: Sorry, but I can't allow you to use my photo.

Honestly, simply seeing my name printed in a publication doesn't qualify as "compensation". Over the course of my life, I've seen my byline or photo credit in print and online publications thousands of times. I don't have an ego in need of that kind of stroking.

I also have concerns that allowing free use of my photos by such publications might take opportunities away from people who make their living in photography. I know -- and respect -- quite a few talented professional photographers. And this comes at a time when some publications are cutting back, or even eliminating, staff photographers -- a disturbing trend, in my view.

Bottom line: I am delighted to have anyone view my photo collections at no charge, but, if you want to use one of my images, I have some considerations and conditions.

Musings on Madison Metro

Most days, I travel to and from work by Madison Metro bus, which allows time for reflections, observation, and an occasional nap. Sometimes, the trips provide entertainment and inspiration. Here are a few of the pieces of poetry and prose composed on a bus seat:

# # #

Falling, falling November snow,
Crawling, crawling, going slow,
When will I get where I want to go,
At this point, I just don't know.

# # #

Boarded the bus, but to sit there is no place,
Alas, school kids occupy much of the sitting space,
Late comers left to stand in the aisle,
But know that this all will change in just another mile.

Soon that fateful stop arrives,
Doors open, students emerge like bees from hives,
And in the wake of this daily kerfuffle,
Standers become sitters, and so goes the morning Metro shuffle.

# # #

"What would you do if I sang on the bus? Would you move to another seat? ..." 

First, let's be clear: I'm not the author of this. It's just that I heard it today ... while heading home on the only Madison Metro bus route that has an official name ... Yes, I was aboard The Sherman Flyer ... with limited stops.

And this wasn't just a soloist craving attention. It was ... for lack of a better word ... a choir, of passengers ... a group of Flyer regulars who had rallied around this Wild Idea, that the Friday homeward bound trip called for a sing-a-long, a rolling serenade down East Washington Ave, and all the way up to the far reaches of the North Side.

Today, as I discovered, they'd even gone so far to prepare alternative, bus-themed lyrics to recognizable tunes. It became apparent, as copies were passed around, that they intended to use them.

And I suddenly found myself sitting right smack-dab in the middle of this mayhem. With two singers to right of me, another to my left and two across the aisle, it began. First up was a modern Metro version of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" ... something like "Roll on, Steel Chariot."

And then, as my stop approached, the choir -- in direct defiance of the bus rider protocol that calls for ignoring the existence of all other human beings -- commenced a version of the Beatles' classic "A Little Help from My Friends."

The tune followed me, until that fateful moment when the doors closed. For a moment, I watched in silence as the Sherman Flyer rolled onward, pondering that question: What would you do if I sang on the bus?

# # #

"Howyadoin'? .... Howyadoin'? ... Howyadoin'?"

The driver boomed as each passenger stepped onto the bus, repeating the greeting as if it were a single word. "Howyadoin'?"

# # #

Her train of thought operated on a track that ran directly to her mouth, without engaging any switch or filter. From the moment she stepped on the bus, her train clattered and clanked at full steam.

"I'm so tired ... I'm running late ... don't want to be late. Oh boy ...."

The Bus She Really Wanted was somewhere up ahead.

Her volume control seemed stuck on high, so no one on this Metro journey was spared. Consequently, she endeared herself to none of her fellow passengers. But she clearly irritated the driver, whom she badgered to catch up to The Bus She Really Wanted, visible a block ahead.

Exasperated, the driver eventually implored her to disembark, but she steadfastly refused. A few times, she stepped out the door, but then hopped back on. She was running late, and called someone to complain that the driver was being rude and uncooperative.

Finally, another passenger convinced her that she might be able to catch The Bus She Really Wanted if she exited and made a harried dash. There was no chance that she could succeed, but she still bolted off.

A collective sigh of relief wafted through the bus. Then, all passengers resumed the traditional bus-rider practice of quietly ignoring one another.