25 June musings

I got my Rotary region's endorsement so my application will move on to the state, then national, then international committee. I hope I can get it.

I've got about 65 single-spaced pages written on my policy analysis for the NZ refugee resettlement policy. We leave for Australia next week and it is followed by the NZ National Resettlement Forum where I have a keynote, so I want to get the analysis draft completed this week.

I've got about 20 taped interviews to transcribe and one more interview to do, plus a bunch of more resources to look at after today's interview. Typical of research -- it is always ongoing. But at some point it has to stop to meet deadlines. I do feel I'm getting near saturation, as I am hearing the same things over and over now, none especially surprising to me. I can only hope that government will listen to grass roots, but I know that is so seldom a reality. It pretty much never happens in the US. Though in NZ you will actually see policymakers and NGO staff sitting t the same table, there is still a gulf between the two.

I admit, other things have my mind greatly preoccupied just now, and I am not feeling especially optimistic. My disgust at my country's lack of social services and care for its people are really troubling me just now. This is causing me to reflect more, though, on my own public voice. For so long, I have spoken out against ways in which poverty affects minorities, immigrants, refugees, people of color in the US. Now I need to speak out against the affects of poverty on the young former middle class. Now, it is hitting home. How, if at all, does that change my public voice? How can I make my students aware of longstanding discrimination while also recognizing more recent events that push them and their families into poverty while not losing sight of those who have been there for so long?

More questions than answers right now, as this is new for me, and it is painful and leaves me wondering what I can/should do. I am at once filled with anger and frustration and despair. I watch my beloved children fall into social categories below what they were raised in, and I don't know how to help them.

Does that sound elitist? I don't mean it to. I just want to see them flourish and be able to live happy, independent lives and have some hope to achieve their dreams. I guess everybody does. I think I have often been able to do that, if through nothing other than brute strength and determination. But I am wondering if that kind of strength is even enough for my children, and the children of this generation. I see them care and struggle and falter and grow despondent. It breaks my heart, because I don't know how to help.