July 17, 2006 – Monday 

On being the daughter of a woman not well-loved by her husband

I’m the daughter of a woman not well loved by her husband. I grew up watching my mother turn herself inside out, dancing wildly along the razor’s edge, in a futile effort to please a man who openly demeaned and devalued her.

Although it would be easy to vilify my father, the truth is he’s not a bad man. His hardscrabble beginnings in the backwoods of east Texas taught him a thing or two about suffering and loss. It made him hard in ways I can’t understand not even now. No, my father’s not a bad man but he’s a seriously flawed one and that makes him human like the rest of us.

My father was a staunch disciplinarian. A man of few words who let his hands do the talking for him. He expressed love and devotion in the way he knew how–by working hard; very hard.  He worked two jobs to support his family, standing on his feet for long hours. Sometimes when he came home, he’d sit in his La-Z-Boy recliner and moan in pain. All of us kids took turns massaging his swollen, aching legs. My father was no slouch but neither was he a knight in shining armor.

Whatever can be said about my father’s shabby behavior can also be said about my mother’s. Believe me, she wasn’t an innocent victim in their marriage. She’s an emotional ”co-dependent” who tolerated my father’s poor treatment for decades. Almost five decades to be exact. Her long-suffering finally came to an end when she divorced him seven years ago. She was 61 years old.

I think my father believed that because he “loved his kids” any acting out he did with my mother was a personal matter between the two of them. In his mind being a good father had nothing to do with being a good husband. According to his way of thinking, these two concepts were like apples and oranges.

What my father didn’t know, what my mother couldn’t see was my sense of worth as a woman was in large part derived from the value my father placed on her as his wife. In other words, the more devalued the mother is in a relationship/marriage, the greater the probability her daughter will internalize feelings of low self- esteem and/or   worthlessness. Just ask me.

There is a popular song whose lyrics sometimes leave me teary-eyed. The song pleads with fathers to “be good to your daughters because daughters will love as you do.” I always think about my father whenever I hear this song and I say a prayer for hurting little girls everywhere.

After many months of hard work the finished “Atlas and His Wife” Sculpture can be revealed to the world. It’s an amazing work of art and a symbol of hope that I want to present to the President of Haiti, Michel Martelly, as a gift for the Haitian people. Limited edition reproductions of the sculpture are available for purchase. The proceeds will be used to support the Haiti Safe House Project.

O! say can you see by the dawn’s early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming, Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
O! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave,
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
 (“Defence of Fort McHenry”, Francis Scott Key)

A photograph, too, taken at the right moment can capture an image that galvanizes a nation. In 1945 Joe Rosenthal, a war photographer, took a picture of soldiers planting an American flag on captured ground after the battle of Iwo Jima that immortalized the fighting spirit of the American soldier for succeeding generations.

Even stories of heroism and self-sacrifice during a time of natural disaster can break through the lines that divide people by strengthening community bonds and uniting us around our common humanity.

Symbols, however, are not a substitute for good leadership or for a helping hand in a time of need. Hungry people need more than words and symbols to fill their bellies; and, sick people need more than glossy images of heroic deeds plastered on walls to heal—they want medicine and compassionate caregivers to tend to them. The OneWoman/OneHouse’s theme of “Art as a tool for social justice” is in many respects an amplification of this belief.

In creating the “Atlas and His Wife” sculpture I endeavored to make a work of art that did both things—met a practical need while serving a higher purpose. It’s a work of fine art created to raise money to help ease the suffering of rape victims and families in Haiti but it’s also a symbol of hope for the Haitian people.

The limited edition bronze reproductions of the sculpture are the centerpiece of our IndieGoGo Haiti Safe House Campaign (http://igg.me/p/24997?a=122456&i=shlk) but “Atlas and His Wife” has always been much more than a work of fine art to me.

The sculpture depicts a strong, virile African Atlas supporting his pregnant wife, Earth, who is in the throes of labor. Both the ecstasy and pain of impending birth are visible on her face and in her body. A powerful loveship is on display—an eternal bond between two immortal forces, male and female, laboring together to bring forth new life. Atlas and Earth are clutching hands, united in their resolve to deliver hope.

When I think of Haiti, I see a resilient people overcoming tremendous adversity to rebuild a devastated country. I see Haitian men and women working together, united in their resolve to accomplish this goal; single-minded in their determination to see hope renewed throughout Haiti.

It’s for this reason I’ve decided to present the first “Atlas and His Wife” bronze sculpture to Michel Martelly, the new President of Haiti. It’s my gift to the people of Haiti and it represents my hope for Haiti. A country that’ll one day rise out of the rubble and dust to become an island paradise; a black pearl of the Caribbean.

I finally got around to making a logo for the OneWoman/OneHouse Project (see above). I thought it was important to create a symbol the public can associate with this project. The primary colors of brown and green have a strong connection to nature–brown represents the earth and green represents abundant flora. The finished design is a house that’s an extension of nature–literally an eco-friendly “green house”–that is life renewing and life sustaining. The logo is a positive symbol created at a time when I’m feeling very hopeful and excited about the future for the OneWoman/OneHouse Project.

What a difference a day makes. A few days ago I was feeling stressed about several project related matters. Chief among my worries was finding a building partner in Haiti. My goal was to partner with a faith based group already working in Haiti. Although I had one or two groups in mind things were still “up in the air” on forming the actual partnership. I kept saying to myself, ” Boy, this is crazy. Here I am raising funds for a project without knowing who my building partner will be.” However, I keep forgetting this project is under God’s guidance and control. It has been from the very beginning and I should know by now–he’s got this!  On Tuesday, April 6th, I met with Paster Gerald Robinson, Executive Director of Know The Truth International Ministries, who was on a mission trip here in Bangkok. A mutual friend who knew about the OneWoman/OneHouse Project arranged for me to join her, Pastor Robinson and two of his associates, for a casual lunch. Over the course of lunch, I discovered his was involved in a ministry in Haiti that among other things:

1. Works with abandoned orphans. These youth are provided shelter and taught furniture and brick making skills; and,

2. They help build new homes for other displaced Haitians. The homes his group builds are more substantial than standard wood frame transitional houses. They’re 2 bedroom brick and mortar structures with a kitchen and bath that allow homeowners to expand in the future.

I was excited to learn Pastor Robinson’s group was using a compressed earth (adobe) process with some wood framing (pre-fabricated or handmade) that was relatively inexpensive. This is the technique I believed would work best after reading feedback from architects and others grappling with rebuilding challenges in Haiti. Plus, growing up in the Southwestern part of the United States, I know earthen bricks are easy to make, very cost effective and sturdy building material.

We talked about my desire to build a home for a Haitian family and, if I raise enough money, to build a safe house for Haitian women and girls who are victims of rape. In a matter of hours my concerns about finding a faith based partner to work with in Haiti were addressed but even more impressive was the fact that all the special requirements I had in mind for the project were also covered. All I can do is repeat what one of the ladies at lunch opined, “Now isn’t that just like God!”

Know The Truth International Ministries link.

I’m a woman on a mission and I’m inspired by the accomplishments of other women, especially women of faith.

Faith looms large as a motivating factor in this undertaking. I believe each of us has the power to command a mountain to move and it’ll move if our faith is strong enough. It was an act of faith that led me to publicly declare my intention to build a house for a poor family at a time when my own financial circumstances were compromised. Although, I admit my notion of being financially compromised is the product of an American upbringing where possession of things and high paying jobs are measures of your success. The falseness of this standard is evident everywhere in Thailand where people lead full and satisfying lives on far less money than I earn.

Freeing myself from the bondage of this success model has been difficult but necessary because I used it to undermine my confidence and self-esteem. I would quietly tell myself, “You’re the wrong person for this project ‘cause you don’t have your stuff together enough” while thinking about the old adage “charity begins at home”. I’d imagine my family saying, “Hey, take care of yourself first before your try to help someone else.” Only after I started to acknowledge I was taking care of “myself” adequately, as part of an exercise in positive self-talk and attitude readjustment, did this tape stop playing in my head.

I began to understand that fulfilling my promise wasn’t going to be the biggest challenge, overcoming self-doubt and negative thinking would be.

Since launching the OneWoman/OneHouse Project, I’ve found myself on many occasions struggling to move the project forward, mired in self-doubt and feeling sorta “dumb”. I’ve always prided myself on being a creative thinker but my inability to put together a workable plan, at least one that satisfied my ego, frustrated me to no end. I’d throw up my hands and brood over my seeming inability to get things done. Then something fascinating happened. I learned how to wait on God.

This was not a conscious choice. It was a gradual realization that solutions to my concerns about this project seemed to become manifest over time. Consequently, when I couldn’t find an answer to a pressing problem instead of stressing over it, I’d accept the fact I didn’t know the answer and turn my attention to other things. Eventually, an answer to the problem would come to me but not on my timetable! Slowly but surely, I begin to consciously turn this project over to God fully believing he is the great way maker and ultimate problem-solver. What I can’t do, I trust him to do for me.

The centerpiece of my fundraising efforts for the OneWoman/OneHouse Project is the “The Atlas and His Wife” sculpture. An original work brought to life through a creative collaboration between Mr. Gavin Fifield, a renowned international master sculptor, and me. The sculpture has finally reached the stage where it’s ready to be sent for casting. If you haven’t already viewed the photographs or video of the final Marquette (model) of “Atlas and His Wife”, take time to do so. The finished wax model embodies the spirit of hope and triumph over adversity that I want people to associate with the OneWoman/OneHouse Project. Atlas is depicted not as a Titan bearing earth as a heavy burden but as a mortal man bearing his pregnant wife, Earth. Her swollen belly symbolizes hope that is born only after agonizing labor. Atlas and his wife are loving partners, their hands entwined, laboring together to bring forth that hope. The sculpture will be cast in bronze and a limited number will be sold to support the OneWoman/OneHouse Haitian Project.

I’m working on the details of the art fundraiser now and I’ll be posting them soon. If you’re interested in pre-ordering one of the limited edition bronze casts of “Atlas and His Wife”, you can contact me at the OneWoman/OneHouse website:
http://www.onewomanonehouse.com .

There is still much work to be done on this project but I’ve learned to let go and let God take the lead.

This would be a rather straight forward matter if I built a house in most western countries where the process for acquiring land is well established in law. Moreover, as a part of industry sanctioned good business practices, realtors, bankers and investors, (under the watchful eyes of local governments and consumer groups), have created a systems of checks and balances which generally ensure transparency and “arms length” fair dealing between parties entering into real estate purchase agreements– be it for a plot of undeveloped land or a mortar and brick house.

However, in many parts of the world,  gross wealth inequities, weak legal and/or regulatory systems covering real property, unchecked abuses by financial institutions that cater primarily to the rich and wanton government corruption, makes acquiring legal title to land a nightmarish process fraught with uncertainty. Haiti is an excellent example of a country mired in seemingly endless battles over land that are undermining international efforts to start massive rebuilding projects to house the nearly 2.3 million people left homeless as a result of the devastating earthquake. Moneyweek Magazine (July 16, 2010) reported that:

“Only about 5% of Haiti’s land is accounted for in public records – and the building that housed title deeds was flattened in the earthquake. Long before the quake, land ownership was hugely contentious in Haiti, where land is concentrated in the hands of a few big landowners, known as grandons (or grands-hommes, big men). Moreover, there is no proper land-registry system. Land titles pass informally from one generation to the next, largely because titling costs several thousand dollars and public officials are generally held to be corrupt.”

In a country bordering on anarchy, where there is no functioning government to restore order and a rule of law that prevents profiteering and “land grabbing” by the wealthy, rebuilding efforts have stalled even before they’ve begun.

I may also have to contend with customary land use traditions and practices which in some cultures/societies don’t allow private property ownership  except by certain highly regarded people (royalty, high-ranking military officials, priests and/or other religious figures). For example, I know of several American Indian Tribes that don’t allow their members to convert tribal/ communal lands into privately held land. A measure imposed by tribal leaders to make sure tribal lands remain under the control of the government.

In view of the litany of problems I could face acquiring legal title to land in many places around the world, I think it might be better to build a houseboat instead of a house.

Now many years later, I’m embarking on an undertaking which will require me to venture into a world of hammers, nail guns, bricks and mortar. I’m equally excited and frightened by this prospect. To build a house with my own sweat and labor means I must learn new skills and confront physical challenges that may be daunting for a woman not used to carrying more than a briefcase and the occasional grocery bags.  In the moments when I think this project is pure lunacy, I draw inspiration from people like the woman in the video building an amazing home from recycled plane parts. My plans are more modest because the home I construct must be affordable.  In addition, the fact that this build will be largely self-financed and I’m a person of modest means, necessarily places constraints on the size of the project. I already know that money. or the lack thereof, isn’t a permanent bar to owning property. Mr. James (not his real name) was one of the people who taught me this.

When I met Mr. James, he was a ninety year old  frail and sickly man fighting  a public agency’s efforts to confine him to a nursing home.  Mr. James told anyone who’d listen that all he wanted to do was be allowed to die in the home he had built with his own hands decades earlier. I had an opportunity to visit him at his residence several times in preparation for a court hearing regarding his status.  The home I visited was well constructed and well maintained. It stood out from the cookie cutter “box” houses which surrounded him. His house had character and personality. As he took me on a tour of his spacious home, Mr. James talked about his life.

As a young man, he escaped a southern lynch mob by hiding in the woods. He stayed in the woods for a day or two, then he fled his N. Carolina home forever. Mr. James said he walked and ran until he came across a freight train. He didn’t know where it was going but, under the circumstances, it didn’t matter. He “hobo’ed” on the train until he reached Tucson, Arizona, in the western part of the United States. He jumped off the train in wandered around town doing odd jobs as a common laborer to feed himself and he slept wherever he could find temporary shelter. In time, he found a permanent job and married a local girl. Through hard work and sacrifice, he and his wife moved their young family onto a parcel of land they purchased. Too poor to build a house on their property right away, Mr. James and his family lived for a few years in an abandoned chicken coop. He said it hurt him terribly that he couldn’t provide better for them. However, slowly but surely, he built his family a house with his own hands and one fine day moved them into it.

The point I’m making is this: being clueless in Bangkok is merely the starting point of my story. When you take a leap of faith, like the woman in the video, like Mr. James and, yes, like me, the rest of the story will unfold as it should.