Living in a Way that Respects and Enhances the Freedom of Others: Visiting the Apartheid Museum and Soweto

I'm two days into my Corporate Service Corps assignment, based near Johannesburg, South Africa - and what an experience it has already been.

Zulu lunch - chicken and maize - it was interesting!

In just two days I: managed to catch and suffer through a severe stomach bug/case of food poisoning (really not fun, in case you were wondering); learned how to play African drums (video proof below); rode in a tuk-tuk around Soweto; waved to a couple of zebras (or Zeh-Bras as my best friend Christine correctly pointed out is the appropriate pronunciation); visited the Apartheid Museum; and tasted authentic/traditional Zulu food and drink (Umqombothi to be exact).

From the minute we stepped off the plane, IBM has kept us on our toes, fully immersing us in the South African culture - and it's been fantastic. Tomorrow we meet our client in person for the first time. My team, which represents four countries, including the US, Japan, Poland and India, is eager to get started. Our goal: find quick wins and be as impactful and as helpful as we possibly can - in just four weeks - I have faith in us to do just that.

Outside of our drum lesson yesterday - my favorite activity was the Apartheid Museum, which also featured an exhibit on Nelson Mandela, his life and impact on the South African country. It was a truly moving experience.

The museum walks visitors through the creation of Apartheid - what led to it's enactment, the uprising against it, it's ultimate downfall, and the aftermath. While we had our own Civil Rights Movement in the United States, which saw it's own viciousness, the amount of violence and death that occurred in South Africa is startling. What was most powerful to me, was visiting Soweto, the birthplace of the Apartheid uprisings, following our museum tour.

Tuk-Tuks in Soweto - Taken with my new Panasonic Lumix.

We took a tour of Soweto - which means South West Township - and had a chance to interact with the residents living there today (interestingly, many of the original leaders of the movement, including Desmond Tutu, still maintain residences in the township). The people we met, the faces we saw, were so welcoming and kind and happy. These are people who are walking down the same streets where children were murdered for protesting inequality in their schools, where stones were thrown and shots were fired. The difference is, that today they walk those streets having gained the freedoms they and their neighbors fought so hard for. It was truly inspiring.

As little children ran along side our tuk-tuks, laughing and cheering and saying hello to us, it hit me. I'm actually here, in South Africa. And what a beautiful place it is.

Our entire CSCZA17 Team - Below is a short drum video 

Deployment Activated: My IBM Corporate Service Corps Assignment in South Africa

Thank goodness!

I’ve really neglected this blog over the past couple of years. I look  back on the posts and can clearly see, this blog was an outlet for me to process the passing of my father - which honestly, I’m not sure I’ll ever truly “process."

I’ve often thought over the past couple of years. about updating my blog, but with work and life, my writing has taken a back seat. 

So what brings me back to the blogosphere? Well, after five years at IBM, I’m finally deploying on my Corporate Service Corps assignment to South Africa. In fact, I’m typing this first post on the tail end of my first 12 hour flight - I have another eight hour journey ahead before I arrive in Johannesburg. 

To paint a brief picture for you - I’ve been sprawled out on a three-seat row, which thankfully I’ve had all to myself. But the wonderful couple in front of me, decided to recline all three of the seats in front of me, full extension, the entire flight - so I’m currently jammed between my seat and my laptop, with little room to see my screen. I’m not bitter at all.

So what is Corporate Service Corps? I’ve explained it in two ways to those who ask me - it’s like the Peace Corps for business - or more accurately, a pro bono work assignment in a developing nation.  In our case, we’re working in West Rand on a housing subsidy project. 

When I made the decision to come to IBM five years ago, it was not a decision I made lightly. It took hours-long phone calls with my Dad, discussing the pros and cons, weighing my options. Many of those phone calls ended in tears, as I struggled to leave my first job and take a chance with a enormous, international company. 

Photo I texted to Mom before takeoff 

There were many factors that led to me finally taking a giant step into the land of Big Blue, but one very big factor was the global presence IBM had and the opportunities I would have as an employee, to explore the world. Case in point - the Corporate Service Corps program, which I was keen to apply for the minute I was eligible (I basically held my breath for two years, waiting until I qualified for the program . . . just kidding, sort of). 

To have the opportunity to share my skills with others, to learn from colleagues from around the world and to immerse myself in a completely new and rich culture is a rare and exciting opportunity. As I collect my things and “prepare for landing,” I think I’m finally letting the weight of this experience begin to sink in. I’m nervous and anxious about the six weeks that lay ahead, but I’m so ready to dive in, head first. 

My goal is to blog throughout the journey - and hopefully, this will inspire me to get back to writing - please feel free to follow along. You can also follow me on instagram and twitter, where I’ll be sharing photos from our weekly excursions.

And now, it’s time to close all electronic devices and power down laptop computers - So, here we go!

A Force to be Reckoned With

I have been shockingly bad about updating my blog . . . as in, haven't posted in nine months? I'd like to say I have a good excuse...and I do have at least one.


In my spare time, I took up volunteering with the American Lung Association in Delaware this past August, specifically as chair of the LungForce walk, which took place in November. It's been incredibly rewarding working with people so dedicated to fighting lung disease. They have asked me to speak about my experience with the disease and share my passion for educating people about the risks. I was chosen as the Ben FM Woman of the Week and also had the opportunity to share my story at various events.

 The association has been so welcoming and supportive to me, especially when we lost my Aunt Barbara to small cell carcinoma just one week before the walk,. We were planning to honor her and her battle at the walk . . . and while we did despite her absence, I was really hoping she'd hang on a little longer. Ultimately, Aunt Barbara lost her battle to lung cancer after a brave, seven month fight. Sadly, with her passing, she marks the fourth family member I have lost to lung cancer.

I am looking forward to continuing my work with the ALA as chair for the 2015 LungForce walk. This year, my amazing team of friends and family, affectionately known as "Remember Each One of Us Can Make a Difference," helped raise $3,000 in just six weeks, helping the event to raise nearly $30,000 total. I'm hoping to raise even more funds and awareness next year.

Having the opportunity to honor my father and my family members who have passed from lung cancer has meant so much to me. While there are many causes I am passionate about, I have struggled to find something I could really sink my teeth into, a cause I could really dedicate my time to and feel as if I am making a difference. To be able to work with the American Lung Association fills that void for me and allows me to keep my father's memory alive and honor all those I have lost from this terrible disease.  Onward and upward.

28

Friday marked my 28th birthday. Although 28 isn't a traditionally momentous birthday, I thought I'd take some time to reflect on where I've been, where I'm at, and where I'm going.

I blog a lot about my father and from anyone who knows me, that's no surprise, because I talk about him a lot too. Last year, my father passed less than a month before my 27th birthday. I was so consumed in the planning and arranging that his passing entailed, I'm not sure it really felt like he was gone when my birthday came around. I think I was still in shock, I still felt like he was on some lengthy business trip and would be calling to wish me a Happy Birthday any minute.

So when my birthday rolled around this past Friday, it was a very emotionally-fueled day for me. It felt like the first birthday my Dad had missed and his absence felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. Everything set me off, I spent a good chunk of my day in tears. It almost felt like I was watching myself from the outside, wondering, why on Earth I was so upset. I was an emotional runaway train and not much could stop it. After talking with my mom later in the day, I realized what my problem was - I missed my Dad and everything he did to make me feel special. I missed all the "little things." I'm not sure I will ever not miss the little things . . . but I hope to one day smile because they happened, instead of crying because they're gone. Until then, as they say, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to!

Someone, probably my brother, reminded me that only 20 percent of my twenties now remain. That's kind of scary. Look, I'll be the first person to admit, 28 is not old, but it's not young either. With 30 just two years away, I think my goal this year is to take stock of what I've accomplished and what I have left to do, so I don't end up missing out on what I'm really after.

If you asked me ten years ago, where I thought I'd be today, I'm not entirely sure I would have had a great answer. A few things I am sure of though . . . I definitely thought I'd be married with a child by 30. I walked into college expecting I'd meet my future husband and then get married shortly after graduation. Clearly that was not in the cards for me. Some days I'm totally okay with that - I know I'm definitely not ready to have children - and I know being single has afforded me some great opportunities. I often think, if I had been married young, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to spend so much time with my parents as an adult. I spent a lot of weekends with my parents, vacationed with them, volunteered with them. I had the unique opportunity to spend such quality time with my Dad before he passed, that had I been married with my own family, I'm not sure I would have been so lucky.

As "okay" as I am with being single, at the same time, it's a lonely proposition. As more and more of my friends end up in relationships, engaged, and married, sometimes I do wonder, "What is wrong with me?" It's also become a bit of a chore to continually answer the lengthy questioning of family and friends, "Are you seeing anyone?" "Why not?" "Have you tried online dating?" No, if I knew I wouldn't be single, and not interested. And yes, I know the line, "A watched pot never boils." I know I can't worry about it, but sometimes it's not that easy. I suppose what I really need to do first, is to learn to love myself, so I can be more open to others . . .which leads me to this next revelation . . .

Body image has been a real issue for me over the years. If people could hear how I talk to myself about how I look, they'd probably be appalled. I think as a kid, I always assumed I'd get to a point where I was happy and comfortable with my body, but sadly, at 28, I'm still struggling. It amazes me how much a number on the scale can throw off my entire day, how compulsive I am about weighing myself, and how much I beat myself up about what, when, or how much I eat. I see a totally different person staring back at me in the mirror - she's fat, ugly, has huge arms, massive shoulders, it's really terrible. No matter how much I work out, no matter how far I can run, how much I can lift, or how athletic I might be, I still see a fat girl in the mirror. This could be an entire blog post in itself and it probably will be at some point, but suffice it to say, that my goal as I round out my twenties is to reach a place of acceptability when it comes to my body. I want to appreciate my body for all it can do instead of continually pointing out the negatives. I want to feel comfortable in who I am, regardless of what I weigh or don't weigh.

But, instead of lamenting on all the things I haven't accomplished yet...what are some things I have?

Well, I've been blessed to finally have an incredibly supportive and caring group of friends. I may not be the most popular person in the world, but I do have people I trust and can count on. People who love me regardless of what mood I might be in or how stressed out I can be. People who accept my flaws and encourage me on a regular basis. My dad always said, "You can count your real friends on one hand, " and as I've gotten older, I've come to realize how true that really is.

I have had the opportunity at 28 to travel the world. I've had the chance to see some amazing places, frame some beautiful photos, and share my travels with friends and family. I've seen more of the world in 28 years, than some people see their entire lives. For that I am truly blessed and grateful.

I've done well in school, completed my master's and been pretty successful in my career. I've had amazing career opportunities and there's more to come. I'm not sure what company I would have said I'd be working for if you asked me ten years ago, but I am very glad to be working for the one I do. I'm also really glad I figured out pretty quickly that living the life of Carrie Bradshaw was not for me. I've always done what has felt right and its paid off every time. I'm thankful for that. I've never shied away from an opportunity (which isn't to say I haven't needed a little push here and there) and have always been willing to try something new. It's made me a bit of a wanderer (which I also get from my father), but it's also made for a really exciting and interesting life.

I have a wonderful family - not many people can say their parents are their best friends, but I am blessed to say just that. I have hobbies and interests that keep me motivated (whether that's crossfit or running races or movies or the beach). I find time to give back and volunteer, which has helped immensely this past year.

So, at 28, things aren't perfect. They are far from it. I have bills, fights with family or friends, a sick puppy from time to time, so much stress I feel like my head might explode, and days where I am so overcome with grief about my Dad, all I can do is cry. But, I'm here. I'm still putting one foot in front of the other and trying to make a difference in this life.

I'm still a work in progress, but at the end of the day, life is good and I'm going to spend the next two years, trying to make it even better, before I hit the next birthday milestone. Thanks for joining me on the ride.

Carry On

As March 14th creeps closer and closer, I thought I would reflect on the past year and what it's been like going through this life without my father.

It feels like this past year went by in the blink of an eye - faster than it normally feels. And without question, my father's absence was felt at every turn. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and and call him. It was second nature sometimes. In fact, although his cell phone has been shut off, I still have "Dad Cell" listed in my favorites and I just can't bring myself to delete his number. I've kept about a dozen voicemails from him on my phone, which he left me over the year before he passed. I still find tears welling in my eyes when I listen to them, although I think I've come to appreciate them a little differently now and sometimes find myself smiling.

I often think about how he would react to certain news or circumstances, what he would say, or how he might go about something. When I was chosen to participate in an elite leadership development program at work, all I wanted to do was call my dad and tell him the news. I could hear his response, I knew exactly what he would say. And he'd have this indelible way of letting you know how proud he was of you. He'd tell all his friends what an accomplishment it was and before I could tell anyone myself, our entire extended network of family and friends would already know. Every child should have the opportunity to feel that loved and to know someone is that proud of you. My dad did that for me, every day of my life.

Father's Day was difficult this year. I felt so out of place as I read all the various well wishes my friends posted for their own fathers. I avoided the Father section in Hallmark like the plague. In fact, I had to purchase a birthday card around Father's Day and I had to leave the store, because it was too much for me to watch others search for cards.

Church is also difficult for me, even now. For some reason, when I do make it to church, I can't seem to get through the service without tears. I know it's connected to my father, I just don't know why. I think the constant messages of hope, love, and Heaven, just make me miss him that much more.

While the nights where I cried myself to sleep are fewer and far between these days, the pain is still so real. I often find myself listening to a certain song on the radio or watching a particular scene in a movie and feeling the tears rush down my face. I still wince when I hear talk of fathers and weddings - I'm not sure that particular pain will ever go away.

It's funny, through this process, I have learned so much about myself, about grief, about other people. There are mountains of books available for people who have lost someone to dissect their grief, to learn how to process grief, and to eventually "move on." In many ways I'm almost compelled to write a book for other people to learn how to care for someone who is grieving, because I have to tell you, that is one skill a majority of people lack.

I think grief and loss is generally awkward for those who have never really experienced it. Society as a whole seems to think you should be "back to normal" in a matter of weeks, but I  question whether "going back to normal," is really ever possible - especially for someone like me who was so completely connected with the person who is lost. While I have met some incredibly compassionate and loving people through this process, at the same time, I've been completely baffled by others. I've heard things like, "I know exactly how you feel, but instead of listening to you, let me just tell you how I feel instead," (a piece of advice, you never really know how someone feels, ever.) to, "You just have to get over it," to nothing at all. The most deafening noise you can ever hear when you're grieving, is that of silence from people you thought cared . . . but that is a post for another time.

Although there are certainly tough days, I do think I'm handling things better than I expected I would. Relocating to be closer to family and friends has been a tremendous blessing - just not being alone is so comforting.

I've also done my best to keep my father's memory alive at every turn. I try to recognize every major event he might have missed, like his birthday or Father's Day. And the scholarship has been a real dedication - we'll host our first fundraiser event on April 5 - an Easter Fest for children in my parents' town, an event I know my Dad would have loved.

As March 14th approaches, I keep asking myself how I want to mark the day. I can't let it go without addressing it somehow - it's a day that will forever mean so much to me and to do nothing would seem so callous. While I plan to visit my father's grave and buy a lottery ticket (since he was adamant, that you can't win if you don't play!), I've also decided, perhaps the best way to acknowledge the day is to go about some random acts of kindness, in honor of my father, who was always so passionate about helping others.

If you're reading this and have the time, perhaps you might want to take part in some random acts of kindness on March 14th - whether it's buying coffee for the person behind you in line, baking cookies for a neighbor, or sending a card to a friend to let them know you care. Whatever it is, I encourage you, in the spirit of love and hope, to honor my father by doing something special for someone else, regardless of how big or small it may be . . . for some reason, I think that would mean so much to my Dad. To know because of him, others are doing good. His personal motto after all was, "Remember, each one of us can make a difference every day."

As the first year without my dad comes to a close, I won't lie. I miss him more now, than I ever have. And I sincerely do not believe it ever gets easier, dealing with the loss. But I do find myself smiling more and laughing more when I think about
memories we made together.

It's a tough world for a Daddy's girl without her Dad . . . but I'm confident he's still with me - I see the signs. And I know I will see him again. Until then, all I can do is continue to walk in his footsteps and make him as proud as possible, just from a different vantage point.

Make a difference people.

Happy Birthday Daddy

Today, January 10, would have been my father's 77th birthday.

While we can no longer celebrate with him here on Earth, our family thought what better way to celebrate his memory by letting you all know that together with the Bear Creek/Buck Township Lion's Club, we have established the Theodore D. Carl Memorial Scholarship. 

The scholarship, which will award one high school senior each year, is our way of continuing to keep our father's memory alive while promoting the values in which he so strongly believed in, education being paramount.

We will spend the majority of 2014 raising funds to support this scholarship. Our goal is to give a substantial financial award each year . . . and of course, this is where you all come in.

On February 16, 2014, my brother Ted and I will run in the Lost Dutchman Half Marathon and 8K race in memory of our father, in an effort to begin raising funds for the scholarship. Dad had planned to watch me run the half marathon this year, had he been able to.

If you had the honor of knowing our father, you know he believed deeply in being honest, giving back to others, and always striving to make a difference. Even if you didn't know him, I am sure you can appreciate these tremendous values. Where others might talk the talk and say they believe in these principles, our father walked the walk every single day of his life and we hope to honor him, by helping students pay for their college educations.

We would be so appreciative if you could support my brother and me in our efforts to begin raising funds for the scholarship.

At this time, you can do so through the following ways:

1. You can write a check to the "Bear Creek/Buck Township Lions Club" and hand that check to my brother or me, or mail the check directly to the club at:

Theodore D. Carl Memorial Scholarship Fund
C/O Bear Creek/Buck Township Lions Club
P.O. Box 107
Bear Creek, PA 18602
*This form of donation is tax deductible. Please be sure to write "T. Carl Scholarship Fund" in the memo line.

2. You can send a payment directly to me via paypal. My paypal ID is: amcarl@udel.edu

3. If you're super fancy and use venmo, you can venmo the donation directly to me as well by adding me as your friend on venmo and making a payment. Please be sure to write, "T.Carl Scholarship Fund" in the message section.

On behalf of our entire family, we thank you for helping to support this scholarship fund and in turn, keeping our father's memory alive. Men like him only come around once in a lifetime and we were so blessed to have had the honor of having him in our lives.

Please stay tuned for more news and updates on the scholarship, including an Easter-focused fundraising event in April and a poker tournament this Summer. And of course, please feel free to share the news with your social networks - every penny counts.

Remember, each one of us can make a difference, every day.

Sincerely,

The Carl Family

More than a dog

As I write this post, I keep thinking this isn't real . . .  but sadly my nine month old puppy Finnegan was struck by a car on Monday and passed away in my mother's arms on the way to the vet. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, let alone why, but what I do know is that I'm crushed.

I brought Finn into my life two weeks after my father passed. I had wanted a dog of my own for years and it seemed like the right time to help take my mind off of such a devastating loss. And what a character Finn was. I won't lie, the first few months were tough, as we navigated through the puppy stages. But as Finn grew, he became such a wonderful dog and it just doesn't seem fair how tragically he was taken from us.

I look at pictures I've taken over the past few months of Finn (and trust me there were a lot) and I just cannot believe he is no longer here. It feels like I've been punched in my stomach. He had a unique personality, a very talkative, funny dog. He loved to sleep like a person in bed and wake you up with his big eyes, sweet kisses and quiet whines. He was becoming quite the runner too, finally taking to the leash really well. He was my dog...attached at the hip...and I loved him. I couldn't take him anywhere without someone saying he was the "most beautiful dog I've ever seen." I could see the future ahead of us....Finn coming for rides with me in my car, lots of runs at the park, growing old and becoming calm and quiet...I guess it just wasn't mean to be.

I know people keep telling me, "he's with your dad now," and while I guess
that's supposed to comfort me, sadly it doesn't. The whole point of having Finn was so he'd be with me, since my Dad no longer was. I feel cheated really . . . no dog deserves what happened to Finn, let alone one so young.

I have experienced a massive amount of loss this year. I'm baffled how I even have tears left to cry. In the end I guess I'm just glad I had Finn for the time I did...he was a bright spot in an otherwise dark year.

Rest well my sweet, sweet Finny boy.