Being Short-sighted

I need to start wearing glasses, metaphorical ones, I’m already wearing ones for distance. I can see the outline of my goal, the bright shiny vision of the future. I can see exactly what it will be like and how good it will make me feel. There is a soft-focus effect at play though, the image is not crystal clear.

What is perfectly clear is the wall between me and my goal.

It’s a wall that can only be broken down by work. By sitting down and pouring out all the wrong words until the right ones start to come. By dealing with the delayed gratification and still keeping my eyes on the goal.

I need to refocus, stop looking at the wall and start looking at the prize.

 

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Don’t Panic!

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Fittingly enough given it would have been Douglas Adam’s 60th birthday on the 11th of March these words have been running through my head repeatedly in the last few days.

The government have decided to change the education system. This should be greeted with shouts of joy and delight as there are plenty of things that could be improved on. But instead of changing the curriculum or adjusting the exam system (which changes every few years anyway) the plan is to actually change the structure completely. This is generally unheard of in other countries; Ireland’s system of 8 years primary and 5/6 years secondary hasn’t changed in donkeys years. In Turkey the structure only changed a decade ago.  I remember the final phasing in of the new system was a news topic in my early years here.

So currently there is a (compulsory in some areas) preschool year age 5, 8 years primary (from age 6 up) and 4 years high school. There are many types of high school apart from normal ones; technical/vocational, religious, science, art etc. Primary education is mandatory.

The changes would be to a 4+4+4 system. Four years of primary, 4 years of middle school and 4 years high school. Middle schools would have the same streams as the current high schools do, technical/vocational, religious, etc. Initially the changes were to allow homeschooling (sitting exams but not attending school) after primary but there was outcry and that has been dropped. Other potential changes are that school may start a year younger, with the first year as a preschool year where no reading and writing are taught.

Panic rising…

How can a 10/11 year old choose what area they are interested in, choose their vocation? Will girls be forced (by their families) to attend kiz meslek schools where they are taught how to be good housewives without ever learning a science subject or a language? Will the curriculum actually change? How will the changes be integrated into the current system? If children start school a year earlier, will they end up leaving school a year earlier than currently?

These changes are intended to be in place by September 2012! There is a provision to put it off for a year though.

With a son due to start primary in September and a daughter in second class, this is on my mind a lot. I’m not the only person confused though. In all the many debates about this I have yet to hear one person talk about the benefits of the change based on scientific research and studies. Organisations speaking out against the changes get an earful from the government.

Calm down a minute…

To mirror a typical Turkish exam question, the changes…

(a) may never happen

(b) may change form a dozen times

(c) as reported are speculation, gossip and rumour

(d) are all of the above.

 

Burası Türkiye!

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Homage to Hybridity

When I read the Week 9 post it immediately brought to mind my wonderful hybrid sisters. They deserve to be named: Anastasia Ashman, Tara Lutman Ağaçayak, Rose Deniz, Sezin Koehler, Judith van Praag, Elmira Bayrasli, Catherine Salter Bayar and Jocelyn Eikenburg.

These are women consistently remind me that being myself is ok, in fact, that it is terrific. Our backgrounds are varied, our locations global, what unites us is a belief in ourselves and an acceptance of our hybrid nature.

What do I mean by hybrid?

Most of us have experience of living in several cultures, some of us have married into a second culture, some of us are third culture kids. All of us acknowledge that this multiculturalism has uniquely shaped our worldview and given us a perspective that many don’t have.

How did we meet?

In gatherings of ones and twos. I’ve known Anastasia and Catherine since Tales from the Expat Harem, met Rose and Tara at a Tedx. Our gathering culminated in Dialogue 2010, a global conversation curated by Rose Deniz. Since then we’ve kept in contact, we’ve written blog rings about things that touched us. We renewed our conversation in January.

What’s in our future?

Our hybrid ambassador core group remains the same but like-minded people gather, so Anastasia Ashman and Tara Lutman Ağaçayak are building our very own home on the web, our Global Niche.

These women allow and encourage me to be myself, to be authentic in all I do. I am so very grateful to them for inspiring me every day.

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All the Fun of the Circus

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While asking questions and trying to figure out my “thing” a trip to the circus illustrated a few points about it. The circus to a child is magical and wondrous but to an adult it’s often bittersweet. Our eyes are often on the action outside of the ring, while a child will focus only on the performer. The child is amazed by the clown’s antics, the adult knows the clown is also the trapeze artist and the juggler.

So what did I learn about my thing:
1 – Multi-tasking is important

I may know that writing is my passion, but in order to succeed at it I need to be able to research with focus and precision, I need to be able to write (of course), I need to be able to edit, and to take criticism. I may also need to work to earn money to indulge my passion, which could be in a completely different field. In short the ability to switch between tasks with ease is necessary, just as the tightrope walker can follow his passion on the wire, but also play the clown and jump to the top of the pyramid of acrobats too.

2 – Teamwork

Nothing happens without support, whether technical or moral. Being able to ask for and accept help is one of the things I need to work on. My moral support group is strong between family and friends (you know who you are, sisters!). These people are the backstage crew who know the inner workings, help to push out the ‘Wheel of Death’ and pull on the safety rope while you fly up on the trapeze.

3 - The ring

This is the important thing, passion thrives best when it’s appreciated. This could be as low key as a sincere thank you for a job well done, or as global as a writer’s platform. Being able to find your audience and stand proud in the ring is the heart of the circus and the heart of our passion too.

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Testing, testing…

Fig tree in an old hamam wall

According to the Via Me online survey my strengths are love of learning, judgment, prudence, teamwork and fairness.

The Strong Life Test for Women tells me my lead role is that of caretaker with an open heart, a chance of being consumed by others feelings and that I should be on or leading a team. My supporting role is teacher, with faith in others, who should be paid to facilitate the success of others.

The Primary Colors assessment meanwhile tells me I’m chocolate moose. That is deeply dependable, with strong logic and analysis skills; I like structure, have a drive to meet expectations, balance facts and intuition, am a good team player but may like to be an independent contributor. My percentages were 83% for curiosity, 57% for execution and 54% for leadership.

A look through Buckingham and Clifton’s 34 themes of strength had me nodding at belief, communication, connectedness, fairness, harmony, intellection, responsibility and significance.

Other than the fact that I like taking online tests what do all these results mean?

The Via Me survey seems accurate, as are those that I picked myself from Buckingham and Clifton’s list. The Strong Test, while also saying similar things is a very accurate picture of my parenting, but not so accurate for my self in terms of career. I found the questions spoke to the mother in me, not the more detached professional. The Primary Colors assessment, though I disliked the format of choosing between three answers, actually gave me the answer I liked best. This of course does not mean it’s accurate!

But how do these results relate to my daily life? Am I using my strengths to their full potential?

I have to say no.

And yes.

I’m team leader for domestic engineering with responsibilities as homework overseer, chief diplomat and timetable synchroniser. This all takes quite a bit of time, energy and headspace.

But I feel the need to stretch myself a more. The desire is there but the execution is clearly lacking. As in so many things I need to exercise the muscles before jumping straight into the race.

Slow and steady…

Fig tree in an old hamam wall

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Writing from the heart

When I think of my most productive time in terms of creative effort it is slightly contradictory. I produced most but yet produced nothing for publication. In a way it was writing in its purest form, to figure out the world and my place in it.

The overriding value in my life was, appropriately enough given the week that’s in it, love.

I was newly married. I was exploring the culture I’d married into. I was learning a new language. I was finding my way around a new town in an area of fascinating history. I had a routine with few responsibilities. What was not to love?

The last few years I have not been so productive my writing. The love has thankfully not changed (you could say we doubled it by doubling our numbers). In terms of time I still have plenty. What has changed is the amount of headspace I give to my responsibilities.

I take things seriously, in many cases too much so. I tend to sit down to write with a proviso in place; I only have x amount of time before I need to do y. This is not conducive to productivity.

Instead I need to retrain myself. I need to say I have x amount of time to write. And I should write with the same love I had all those years ago, before I knew anything about how you should write but when I knew everything about writing from the heart.

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Disconnected

Spot the birdie!

We wait…

But

We have three 19 litre bottles under the stairs,

Another 8 litres inside the house.

Drinking water is delivered.

Wipes can be used for grubby hands and faces,

The kettles are all full.

We can cope till the water returns.

 

We wait…

But

Our heating is an enclosed fireplace, logs stacked since June.

The hob works with gas, the spare canister’s full.

Torches and radios are tested and working,

Phones are charged and spare batteries stockpiled,

Tea lights and candles are plenty.

We can cope till the electricity connects.

 

We wait…

But

Our mobiles can connect to the GSM network,

Television gives us subjective news.

No blogs, no Twitter, no Facebook,

No Skype, no forums, no international calls.

Boredom increases the tedium of waiting,

Concentration is gone down the tubes.

We can’t cope till the phone line is fixed.

Spot the birdie!

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She’s got per-son-al-ity…

Not a straight road

A few weeks ago a friend described herself as a Type A personality, while more recently Justine Musk had a post about being an introvert. I knew immediately that I was not the first but very definitely the second. I know, I know there are probably lots of Type A introverts out there but I am not that continuously stressed, need to control type at all. In fact to look at the state of my house you’d say I was a little too laidback.

So when Week 5 was about personality I was delighted at the thought of exploring a little more. I did the Jung-Briggs-Meyer test and discovered I was an ISFJ. Basically I’m just like Queen Elizabeth II and Dr Watson. I am introvert, sensing, feeling and judging. I am a Guardian Protector, I like to be needed and to look after people. Interestingly I did this test in the evening, just having fed the family, the kids were playing, my husband was watching tv and all was right with the world. It seemed to fit nicely.

A few days later I decided to take the same test again. I forgot to note the numbers that indicate just how much I leaned towards each of these attributes. So just after lunch having spent the morning editing academic papers I did the test. And I got a different result. I was now an INTJ. An introverted, intuitive, thinking and judging Rational Mastermind. I’m just like Hilary Clinton and Professor Moriarty. That’s a turnaround, but having mentioned perfectionism  before and having studied science, it also seemed to fit.

Here’s the thing. Personality is a continuum and trying to divide that continuum into neat little boxes just doesn’t work.

The main aspects of my personality came through, being an introvert and judging (in the sense of being a planner, not of using the judgey wee bastard). But my information perception and processing are open to change.

I’d say that’s true for most of us.

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Inner critic exposed…

 

This weeks action step for A Year With Myself was to describe your inner critic, something which I did last week. Or rather I described the inner critic’s uglier face, the inner begrudger.

So for my action step I thought I’d illustrate my inner begrudger instead.

Beware it ain’t pretty!

My inner begrudger

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Censorship

There are lots of things about Turkey and censorship that deserve attention. We could talk about the internet filters that not only catch porn but also some Darwinian websites. We could talk about journalists who write books about shadowy organisations, only to then be arrested on suspicion of being in said shadowy organisation. We could talk about journalists being arrested for not-entirely-clear reasons but possibly to do with their ethnic background. We could talk about the “mahalle baskisi”, the local pressure to conform, and how it stifles free debate and exchange of ideas. We could talk about the newspapers and how some are pro-government and some are not, but none will print a contrary view to that of the editor or owner.

But we won’t talk about any of that, we’ll talk about television.

I first noticed it with cigarettes. I’m not sure when but they disappeared off our tv screens, generally replaced with a fuzzy patch. It was funny to see suave characters with smoke trailing from fuzzy patches. It didn’t always add to the atmosphere of the programme I’ll admit. Still CNBC-E had the best idea with their cartoon flower solution. (In an excellent piece of marketing you can now buy the censor flowers to disguise your own smoking!)

Charlie does love his flowers, eh, I mean cigars...

So a while after that I noticed that cigarettes weren’t the only things that disappeared, alcoholic drinks had vanished too. Again the credibility was stretched as we watched our downtrodden hero prop up the bar with a fuzzy drink to match his fuzzy cigarette.

Then last week while watching 48 Hours Eddie Murphy walked into a nude bar and was completely surrounded by fuzz. The women’s heads were the only things unobscured. Now my memory of 48 Hours was that there wasn’t really a huge amount on show anyway but all those fuzz patches got me fierce curious altogether.

Then once the shooting started the fuzz increased again. No gunshot wounds, no bleeding, no gore, just a shot and some fuzz. Last nights Steven Seagal movie ended in a fuzz of pink.

So cigarettes, alcohol, nudity and gore all banned from viewing on Turkish television. This was evening time and the kids had been sent to bed well in accordance with Metin Akpinar and Ibrahim Kutluay’s admonishments that 9.30 was time for bed. The movies had all started with the symbols telling us what to expect and what age it was suitable for. But still the television governing body RTUK decided that they knew better.

My final example is most worrying. A married couple reunited after a day of strife and worry run towards each other, relief visible, speeding up as they get closer and then snip.

They stand beside each other, no kiss, no hug.

No, that would be to give the little children a bad example, it could affect their spiritual development to witness affection between two married television characters.

It’s heating up the water slowly so the frog is boiled before he realises.

 

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