Month: March 2010

Sunny & Afzal Go to Washington

/ Surina Khan / Leave a comment

My mother and I were in my parent’s bedroom surveying her closet. She was selecting a sari to wear to Ronald Reagan’s inauguration in 1981.

“Will you take one of those tours of the White House?” I asked.

“I’ll only go to the White House if I’m invited,” she replied. “I’m not going on any public tours,” she said haughtily, her nose up in the air.

She selected a red and gold brocade sari, a pair of black evening shoes, and a matching hand bag. “Fold the sari nicely and put it in the suitcase with the other things,” she directed me.

My parents voted for Ronald Reagan in the 1980 election, the first US presidential election in which they could vote. They had been naturalized as US citizens the year before in 1979, the same year as the Iranian Revolution which deposed the Shah. Later that same year, 53 Americans were taken hostage for 444 days, from November 4, 1979 to January 20, 1981, symbolically released the same day Reagan was inaugurated into office.

When the hostages were taken, Puchi and I were living in Pakistan, attending the International School of Islamabad. The superintendent of our school, a man by the name of William Keough, had previously been the superintendent of the American School in Tehran. After the Iranian Revolution, he was posted to the International School in Islamabad. That November, Mr. Keough returned to Tehran to finish up business and pack the last of his things, and was taken hostage with the other Americans on November 4.

Anti-Americanism was spreading through Central and South Asia, and the American embassy in Islamabad was also attacked later that November, the same day that Puchi and I were to fly to Karachi on our way to Connecticut for the Thanksgiving holiday. The previous month, in October, we received a telex, to my great joy, “You are cordially invited to 112 Stoner Drive for Thanksgiving Dinner.” I thought my parents were responding to the misery I often expressed about having to live in Pakistan during my junior high school years, but in actuality, our names had come up for US citizenship and we returned to Connecticut for the Naturalization Oath Ceremony just as the Americans were being evacuated from Pakistan.

Before Reagan won the Republican presidential primary, my mother was keen on George H. W. Bush. She supported the elder Bush in the primaries and even hosted a fundraiser for him at our home in Connecticut. She was active in the West Hartford Republican Women’s Club.

I wasn’t home the day George Bush came over for the fundraiser, but I remember a photo of Mimo, dressed in a blue shalwar kameez, shaking his hand.

My mother never received a formal invitation to the White House, but I know she enjoyed the inauguration.

Eight years later in 1988, I cast my ballot for George H. W. Bush in the first presidential election in which I could vote. My family was Republican and I was comfortably following in their foot steps. I was towing the party line. As I became more politicized in later years, I changed my party affiliation, but I always like to tell people that I voted for Bush in 1988. It just goes to show you, a person really can change.

Wedding Blues

/ Surina Khan / Leave a comment
My mother was in a bad mood. “What do you mean it’s too long?” she said when I told her I didn’t think my Gharara fit.  I wanted to know why it was so long and billowing. And what was it anyway, pants or a skirt? Why were they so wide legged? Were they coulots? And the Kurta, or shirt, seemed too short. We were in Karachi for Baba’s wedding, which was quite a production. Pakistani weddings are generally a big deal. Especially in my extended family.

“Put on the Gharara and go find a pair of high heels if it’s too long.” She said about to raise her voice. I was twelve and feeling uncomfortable in the fancy wedding outfits which seemed foreign to me. And I thought I was too young to be wearing high heels, but given her worsening mood, I decided to keep this to myself.

 The six of us at Baba’s wedding photographed with our father. 
From the left: Puchi, Muna, Baba, Aba, Tito, Mimo, and me. 
My sisters and I are wearing Ghararas. At twelve, I am almost as tall as Tito, thanks to the three inch heels I was wearing.

Typically there are seven days and nights of functions involving custom-made ornate outfits, hair and make-up, jewelry, and a myriad of other details including outdoor tents, catering  and seating for hundreds of guests as well as several gifts for the new bride including multiple sets of jewels. There’s the Mehndi, which takes place the day before the actual wedding, a ceremony of mostly women who apply Mehndi, or Henna as it is known in the West, to the bride’s hands and feet, and then all the ladies sing, dance, and bless the bride as they hop around her.

There’s also usually a musical evening, and for Baba’s wedding this included a private concert by the Sabri Brothers, a well-known musical group trained  in Qawwali and North Indian classical music. There’s the Nikah, a small private ceremony for the bride and groom to sign their marriage contract. And then the actual wedding celebration which is typically hosted by the bride’s family. On the final night of festivities is the Walima, or reception for the bride and groom as their first full public event together.

 
Another function, another Gharara. The Khan sisters with our father on the night of the musical evening.
From the left: Aba, Muna, Mimo, Puchi, and me.

At the time, the Pakistani wedding custom was new to me. For the several years prior to the wedding, we had been mostly living in Connecticut. I was becoming increasingly Americanized and I thought these Pakistani wedding traditions were too elaborate. I think my parents may have thought so too. Towards the end of the week of festivities they did not look very festive.

This picture is among my favorite photos of my parents. They are both scowling in a way that is so authentic and unfiltered. It wasn’t the first time I had seen these expressions on their faces, nor was it the last. It’s clearly a look that got passed down to their children. Here I am trying it out early.

Piddles and Bits

/ Surina Khan / 1 Comment

Have I mentioned that I sometimes work from home? Generally this works out well, except when the dog barks in the middle of a conference call. Then I just say, “Pay no attention to the barking dog.” Fortunately this does not happen that often.

We’ve had Rosie for about six months. Jenny had been angling for a dog for sometime and I was warm to the idea too.

About a year ago, I was getting ready to go on a work trip, and Jenny said, “When you get back, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“When I get back? No way. Tell me now.”

“I’ve decided,” Jenny started to say, “That I’m getting a dog.”

“You’re getting a dog?” I asked. “What about we’re getting a dog?” I mean, we do live in the same house.

I liked the idea of  getting a dog. We had already ruled out children, deciding that we are selfish and have too many bad habits. And we both wanted to keep it that way. But a dog is a different story. It’s possible to be selfish and have bad habits with a dog. My main issue with getting a dog was that both Jenny and I are so busy, I wondered if we’d be able to care for a dog.

“Do we really have time to take care of a dog?” I asked. Jenny reminded me that she was on sabbatical from her job at the University and it might be the perfect time to get a dog. And, with my travel schedule being what it is, Jenny would have some companionship when I am away.

But still, I was not convinced. I did not want Jenny to get distracted by the dog since she was supposed to be writing a book during  her sabbatical. So I decided to take a page from the Obama’s.

“When you finish your book, you can get a dog.” I said matter-of-factly. This was good motivation for writing, even Jenny thought so. But then, my situation changed slightly, and I started working from home more. Plus we almost got broken into, and both Jenny and I liked the idea of  a dog for extra security.

Jenny found Rosie on the internet, and we met her at a local shelter, fell in love, and brought her home. She looked to be a cross between a Border Collie and a Basenji. A sweet six-month old, red-headed, short-haired, medium-sized puppy named Rosie. She had been spayed earlier in the day and was groggy from the drugs and had a belly full of stitches when we brought her home. The next night, Jenny got on a plane to Korea for a week to attend a conference.

I was left alone with the new dog. We had various dogs in my family when I was growing up, but I have never had to care for one, so I was a little nervous. 

I asked some friends if they were available during the time that Jenny was away. “Why? Do you need a dog sitter?” One friend asked.

“No,” I said, “I’m the one who needs a sitter.” I wasn’t sure I really knew how to take care of a dog.

 
Rosie

Various friends came over and kept us company during the week Jenny was away, and I got a lot of good advice. For instance, I did not know that it is customary to name the function of urinating and pooping. Most people might call this pee pee or  poopie or potty, but I didn’t think that was going to work for us. So I considered, “Out.” I tried this for a day or two but it sounded strange.

“Go out, go out,” I would say when we were already outside. Plus my experienced dog-loving friends made a  good point. What if she came to recognize “out” as a command for pee and we happened to be sitting around watching TV and one of us said, “Let’s go out for dinner.” Would Rosie, hearing the word “out,” squat and do her business right there on the carpet? Not happening. I needed a new word.

I considered business. “Go do your business, Rosie,” I would direct. Or I might ask, “Did you do all your business, Rosie?” I thought this was going to work well, but then I remembered how often I work from home, mostly on the phone using all kinds of words, including business.  I might say, “We really need a new business model.” Or “I don’t really think it’s our business to worry about that.” This could get problematic, me sitting at my desk saying “business” a lot would just confuse Rosie or make her do her business on the carpet, since I tend not to be outside when I am conducting my business from home.

I needed another word. I gave this more thought and decided on Piddles and Bits. Piddles for Number 1 and Bits for Number 2.

What I really liked about this new combination is that Piddles and Bits, besides the obvious reference to Kibbles ‘n Bits, had the added benefit of a little jingle.

“Piddle in the Middle, Poop Poop-a-Diddle.”

I often sing this little ditty for Rosie when she needs to go outside and do her business. Jenny gets a good laugh, and I even catch Rosie smiling sometimes.

 
Rosie, basking in the glow and doing what she does best, lounging.

Let’s Do the Numbers

/ Surina Khan / 3 Comments

My shameless effort at self-promotion has yielded a twenty-five percent increase in my “followers.” This is good and bad. A twenty five percent increase is respectable for a twenty-four hour period.  In the last day, I increased my followers from fifteen to twenty. Twenty is a good number. A group of twenty is often referred to as a score, so you could say I scored.

But analyzed a different way, it is not so impressive. I know that 116 people have viewed my Blog since I posted Follow the Leader yesterday. Those 116 people loaded 241 pages, which is neither here nor there, but provides good context and 241 sounds good. Now just to complicate things a bit further, since I started this Blog, it has been visited a total of 4,347 times. Also an impressive number considering I started this little hobby just over six weeks ago. But 4,347 in relation to 20 followers somehow does not seem good. It’s less than .5 percent. That’s point five percent, also known as less than one percent.

Analyzed yet another way, of  the 116 people who viewed my blog in the last day only five joined up as followers. Which is less than 5 percent, which is better than .5 percent. But see how fast twenty five percent can turn into five percent? I was up twenty five percent, and now I’m down twenty percent, just like that.

That’s what some people would call small potatoes. But me? I’m just grateful that five more people are willing to be publicly identified about the fact that they read my Blog. The rest of the people reading may not want to be so open about it, which I can totally understand.

I also appreciate the effort that went into clicking the “Follow” button. My sister, Puchi had a hard time with it.

“I have pressed that button on the top right a few times in order to follow you,” she commented. “However, nothing happens and I felt that I had been rejected as a follower…so now I am looking for having another purpose in your life since I failed as a follower.” I know she was being all ultra-sensitive because I wrote about how sometimes I reject the comments she leaves on my Blog. (See Puchi Calling, posted February 20, 2010).

I told Puchi that I refused to accept that she had failed as a follower. “Consider doing the POP or PUP Analysis,” I suggested. “Or maybe you need a google account?”  It’s really not that complicated I told her. “After all, there are 19 others who have figured it out.”

Puchi is no quitter, so she kept at it. She wrote later today, “Oops, it seems that when I decided to follow you I chose to do it anonymously…that’s why it never showed up. Well here I am, all accounted for.” Now that is what I call sisterhood.

Now if  I could just get Jenny to start following me.

Follow the Leader

/ Surina Khan / 5 Comments

I thought Jenny should know that I was bar-hopping on the Wednesday night of last week’s work trip. After all, she was keeping the household running and managing the care and feeding of the dog while I was away. “I’m at a dive gay bar with Rockwood folks in Penngrove,” I texted her from the Black Cat Cafe.

Jenny responded that this was probably where one of our former tenants worked. “Oh, really?” I asked. “Was she from around these parts?”

Jenny, who has very good listening skills wrote back, “Were you not listening all those hours?” She raised a good point, we did have long conversations in the backyard with our former tenant and she probably did mention something about working at a dive bar in Penngrove when I was not listening.

I assured Jenny, “I guess not, but I have been practicing my active listening skills this week.” I was at the Rockwood Leadership Institute where we learned a lot about the importance of active listening.

I told Jenny, that the dive gay bar in Penngrove was not all that we had hoped it would be. It was open mic night and the presentations, in our opinion, were not of the highest quality. Jenny, who is a quick study, was getting the Rockwood groove. “What’s your vision?” she asked.

I told her our immediate vision involved a hoochie bar in downtown Petaluma. One of the members of our small (bar hopping) group found it on Yelp and it looked promising.

“That does not sound good,” Jenny responded. “So the visioning piece, as they call it, involves free-ranging on hump day?”

“Yes,” I said. “We have found our purpose and our vision, and tomorrow we will be having essential conversations.”

But first, there was the hoochie bar. We drove back to Petaluma and decided we would appoint a subcommittee to investigate the hoochie bar while the rest of us went into the Pub across the street and ordered some drinks. The subcommittee reported back from their site visit to the hoochie bar, and informed us that there was only one lonely hoochie mama dancing by herself which was depressing, so we stayed put and got a head start on having some essential conversations.

Roz and I decided that we needed to have an essential conversation about movement building. So we began to plan our essential conversation. This was on the next day’s agenda,  where different groupings of us would be hosting conversations.

The next day we had to give our essential conversation a title. I would have been fine with calling our conversation Funders’ Role in Movement Building, or some such boring title, but then Vini and Todd raised the bar when they titled their conversation a catchy, “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” They were hosting a conversation about supporting community leaders.

So Roz and I decided to call our conversation, “Who Let the DAWGS Out?” We felt this was more than appropriate since after finalizing the PUP Analysis (Purpose Unleashing Power), DAWG now stands for Doing a World of Good. (See: Pass the Talking Stick, posted February 28, 2010).

Another group decided to call their session. “Pump It!” They were discussing strategies for turning up the dial on leadership development. That group said they were a little anal retentive in planning their session. To which our trainer, who I will call LaWanda, said, “With a name like ‘Pump It!’ you might not want to be anal retentive.”And then Todd started forming the Ass Slander committee to raise awareness about all the ways in which the anus is used in a derogatory way.

That night we had to split up into groups and come up with a skit. We had very clear guidelines and were told that we could use any items lying around as props as long as we returned them. By now I had really improved my active listening skills and heard one of the participants asking LaWanda a question. “Do you have a special dong?” Not that it was immediately apparent to us, but my Institute colleague was referring to the device that LaWanda used to ring her Tibetan Bell when she wanted us to stop doing something or start doing something.

I looked at LaWanda and answered for her since she still looked surprised by the question, “Well, maybe at home,” I offered. I didn’t think bringing a dong to a training was very professional and I knew LaWanda to be on the up and up.

 
LaWanda’s bell (or more accurately, singing bowl) looked something like this.

My experience at Rockwood was good for a number of reasons. I laughed a lot, I made new friends, I furthered my skills as a leader, and I came closer to realizing my vision and purpose. Part of my vision involves transformative change, and I think to do that we need to reach a lot more people. Which is where this blog comes into relevance. You may think this is frivolous, but I have a larger purpose. I am hoping that the spirit of levity which I bring to this blog (and hopefully to the subsequent book project) will have wide appeal which might help us build a broader-based movement for social change. Are you still with me?

Ok, so this finally brings me to my point. I have a modest number of followers on this blog, fifteen to be exact. I know more people than that are reading the blog and I am hoping they will also make it official by “following” me. I think I will look more favorable to potential publishers if I have more followers, which will also serve my vision of movement building and transformative change. So if you are reading this, won’t you give me your vote of confidence, or khanfidence, and follow this leader?

Just click the button on the top right hand side of this page where it Says “Follow.” I can assure you it really does not mean much in the way of daily alerts or anything. I follow a couple of blogs and nothing happens when you click the button, except that it will help build my confidence if I can grow my readership into the triple digits. In my line of work, we call this measurable outcomes.