Nick Vujicic his Life Without Limits
My Son-In-Law- Mike invited me to go with him to an event last Saturday night at the Redmond, Oregon Expo Center. Our wives were in Portland for the quilt expo and the kids with out for their weekend with their birth father so it was just the two of us batching for the weekend. He said we should have sushi and take in the event. He was going to hear Nick Vujicic on Friday at Bend High School. I was pretty sure that my friend "The Happy Hoosier" that I use to hang out with down in Naples at the RV park had heard him and raved about him back in the day.
Mike heard the talk on Friday and was impressed.
The Expo parking lot was getting full when we got there and of course all the handicapped/van parking was full. Mike was getting ready to park like an RV (take up two spaces and hope someone didn't hem him in) when a golf cart pulled up and said to follow him, there were plenty of spaces in back. We followed for about a half mile around the barns practically up to the back door and double wide spaces where Mike could let down the ramp and roll out in his power chair. Although confined to the power chair, Mike still has the use of arms and hands, unlike Nick Vujicic who was born with neither arms feet that were developed past barely a flippers with two toes on the left and we couldn't see what on the right.
We were early. A long line snaked up to give Nick a hug and then file by to fill out a sheet so that they could tally for an attempt at a world record number of hugs in one hour. "He can't shake hands, so give him a hug," the front man on stage kept urging.
The wait grew to one hour stretching the opening past the advertised 7 p.m. to 7:30 and introductions were made for an "Acoustic Rock Band" Elliot. Elliot members have been working since 2007 in the formation of "The Heart Campaign, a campaign for social justice and desire to see positive change in communities where they play. During the day hundreds of redshirted volunteers with "I heart Central Oregon love is action" logos had spread out to the communities of Prineville, Madras, Redmond, Sisters, Bend, LaPine doing good deeds, helping "neighbors" with small and large projects. The event at the Expo center was a celebration and reward. Tickets were free for anyone taking time to pick them up ahead of time, and a token $10 at the door.
I'm not sure what the title "acoustic rock band" means. In my elderly mind acoustic means it isn't amplified and the natural acoustics do the work. Of course that doesn't do much good if you are playing those solid body guitars. Anyway, it was loud. But I took out the hearing aides and the lead singer of Elliot was quite good. I liked it. Mike who likes it that way, kept looking over at me and asking if I was OK.
The ground row seats were arranged in a large block of those who get there early and want to see the stage, stand and wave their arms, maybe dance in the aisles a while. The second block, the main block was separated from the close block by a 20 foot section which provided a walkway between where Nick had been at the end of the "hug line" and where he would go to his "book signing reception line" during the concert.
We were seated on the second row of the second seating section with the 20 aisle walkway in front of us. As Mike said, the people watching couldn't be any better.
During the concert the lights were down up front but not so much by midway back. We couldn't see the stage from back there but two video cameras were putting the main singers and clusters of players up on huge screens so we could see fine. But the action was taking place right in front of us. It was like watching the shore birds on the beach, except these were tiny birds, they were the Junior High School kids, and high school kids in an endless parade going from one side of the arena to the other. They came and went in groups of two five ten, then a singleton, pacing, flocking, swooping, to and fro, ebbing and flowing. It kind of went with the music. When the music reved up and pounded they stopped and faced the stage and bobbed and jumped and waved their arms, when the singer slowed down and sounded as though he was singing something meaningful, the flocking and swooping began all over again.
Until.... the music stopped and Nick Vujicic was introduced.
It was hard to get a perspective on him because of the video projection on the giant screen. But his voice was strong with a slight Aussie accent. He had the audience spellbound in an instant and pretty much kept them there the rest of the evening.
It didn't take long for him to launch into the main theme of his talk and it hit the topic that this blog has been about from the start... to paraphrase him...
"It doesn't take many people telling you are ugly to make you start believing it.... and for every time you hear it, it takes a thousand others telling you you are beautiful to undo it."
He recalled how he had been teased, harassed in school. And the whole litany. It was a classical story of bullying. He had told the same story to the study body at Bend High School, and Summit High in Bend and at Crook County High School on Friday.
My thought at the moment was if a man like Nick Vujicic, born with arms or legs was bullied by kids what chance does a kid who is a little chubby or skinny or whose voice isn't changing quickly enough going to have? I happen to believe that in his case some intervention from people at the schools was called for as it is now. I don't think that faith alone will save a middle school child from committing suicide if she is being bullied to up to a certain point and she sees no support on this earth.
I think that appearances such as he makes helps kids as well as some adults realize better how to react to individuals who have a physical disability.
Sitting in front of us was a woman with a young child, I assumed was preschool. The woman I assumed was in her 20's. The woman took the child to where I think Nick was signing his books. When they came back, there was a conversation between them about people who are different and have to do things differently because of it. It was a good discussion and the child's questions were being answered intelligently.
Nick found an inner strength to survive and faith. It has worked for him. Building on that he has overcome impossible odds to become a successful man, inspirational writer and speaker. His website points to his blog and his books.
If you missed his talk check him out.
Respectfully submitted,
Kenneth Fenter
Monday, September 27, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
StepOut Walk to Fight Diabetes in the Eugene, Oregon Oct. 9, 2010 featuring team Savannah
Jim Henson, his wife Annis and I traveled over the mountain, down the river to Roseburg and up to Umpqua Community College for the 2010 Wine-Art-Music Festival over the 11 and 12 of Sept. to see if we could sell a few of our books. It was a kind of homecoming for Jim as his book Pee Up A Tree takes place in the Umpqua Valley of the early 1970's. I met several of his friends who populated the pages of the book. Even saw the end of one of the canoes that he mentioned their making.
The Umpqua Community College is a beautiful campus and we learned from a former Vice President who stopped by our booth that it was named last year as the 14th ranked community college in the United States, and the only Oregon community college to make the rankings. The fellow, whose name I didn't write down, proved the adage that it is truly a small world. He talked to Jim for a short time and then his eyes fell on the cover of my book, The Ruin. He seemed a little near sighted as he picked the book up and examined it up close and read a little of the Clarion Review on the back. He looked at me and said, "I taught at Cortez at MCHS. Turns out he was an Ag. teacher there in the early '70's. He knew farmers all over Summit Ridge where my book took place, Mancos, Dolores, and Mesa Verde. Small World.
I sold a number of books but the most interesting one of all was to the daughter of the couple who had the booth next door. They sold wooden pens and wine bottle stoppers turned from exotic woods. The daughter, Savannah acted about 6 or so in her politeness and helpfulness in the booth. She was attracted to the portable climbing wall. The thing must have been about two stories tall and the first day her dad said she climbed it seven times. The highest she got was about a third of the way up. In the afternoon she came over and asked me how much my book was. I told her the price. She asked was I sure? She went back and had a conference with her mom. She came back and dug all of her money out of her pocket and put it on the table. Two quarters, a dime, a nickel, and two pennies. I asked her if that was all the money she had. She shook her head yes. So does that mean if you buy this book you can't buy any ice-cream or anything? She didn't seem to be concerned about that. She really wanted that book. I told her that I really couldn't take all of her money. But I said, how about I trade you for a pen and a promise from your mother that she will read the book to you? Her face lit up and she shook her head yes. I said she had better go ask about that. She ran and asked her mom and came right back and asked what pen did I want. My book at the show was priced at $15.50 and their pens ranged from 12.50 to 18.00. I told her it had to be the one that was her favorite. She went back to talk to her dad. Between them they selected one that they thought would be special and a little unusual and it was. He explained that it was a Civil War commemorative pen. The pocket clasp is shaped like a civil war rifle, the point is shaped like a rifle bullet, and the top end is shaped like a pistol bullet. The barrel is short and looks like walnut. Savannah thought it was very special. I had asked if Savannah was named after the famous city of the South. (Now I was pretty sure that this pen was an appropriate choice even though at that moment I didn't realize just how appropriate if one things of the determination of the Southern effort in the Civil War.) And her mom promised to read the book to her. I explained to both parents that the first part of the book was not appropriate for her yet, but that if they read the book first they would see where to begin reading to her. They promised to do that. Sunday morning when we began the day, Mom said she had started reading the book the night before.
On Sunday Savannah began climbing the climbing wall with renewed determination. By the end of the day she had climbed clear to the top. I had watched several teen aged boys who had not made it. A couple of them had made it half way and the young man running the concession had had to help them back down. All of the climbers were in harnesses and were tethered by rope so they couldn't fall.
I think it was during the second day that Savannah, her mom and dad came to the Festival wearing their Team Savannah t-shirts for last year's American Diabetes Association StepOut Walk to Fight Diabetes. They were getting ready to participate in the Eugene, Oregon Oct. 9, 2010, event. Her mom told us Savannah was 5 and had been living with type 1 diabetes all her life.
She was one determined little girl. She had determined to climb the wall and in two days had done what a steady stream of boys and girls of all ages had not. She gave her best each try got back at the end of the line and tried again until she made it to the top and wasn't ready to stop when the day was over. She wanted a book, something that would last for a while, instead of an ice-cream that would be gone in a few moments. Her mom said she wanted to learn to whistle and she kept at it until she had mastered it. You have to admire that kind of spirit.
Respectfully
Kenneth Fenter
The Umpqua Community College is a beautiful campus and we learned from a former Vice President who stopped by our booth that it was named last year as the 14th ranked community college in the United States, and the only Oregon community college to make the rankings. The fellow, whose name I didn't write down, proved the adage that it is truly a small world. He talked to Jim for a short time and then his eyes fell on the cover of my book, The Ruin. He seemed a little near sighted as he picked the book up and examined it up close and read a little of the Clarion Review on the back. He looked at me and said, "I taught at Cortez at MCHS. Turns out he was an Ag. teacher there in the early '70's. He knew farmers all over Summit Ridge where my book took place, Mancos, Dolores, and Mesa Verde. Small World.
I sold a number of books but the most interesting one of all was to the daughter of the couple who had the booth next door. They sold wooden pens and wine bottle stoppers turned from exotic woods. The daughter, Savannah acted about 6 or so in her politeness and helpfulness in the booth. She was attracted to the portable climbing wall. The thing must have been about two stories tall and the first day her dad said she climbed it seven times. The highest she got was about a third of the way up. In the afternoon she came over and asked me how much my book was. I told her the price. She asked was I sure? She went back and had a conference with her mom. She came back and dug all of her money out of her pocket and put it on the table. Two quarters, a dime, a nickel, and two pennies. I asked her if that was all the money she had. She shook her head yes. So does that mean if you buy this book you can't buy any ice-cream or anything? She didn't seem to be concerned about that. She really wanted that book. I told her that I really couldn't take all of her money. But I said, how about I trade you for a pen and a promise from your mother that she will read the book to you? Her face lit up and she shook her head yes. I said she had better go ask about that. She ran and asked her mom and came right back and asked what pen did I want. My book at the show was priced at $15.50 and their pens ranged from 12.50 to 18.00. I told her it had to be the one that was her favorite. She went back to talk to her dad. Between them they selected one that they thought would be special and a little unusual and it was. He explained that it was a Civil War commemorative pen. The pocket clasp is shaped like a civil war rifle, the point is shaped like a rifle bullet, and the top end is shaped like a pistol bullet. The barrel is short and looks like walnut. Savannah thought it was very special. I had asked if Savannah was named after the famous city of the South. (Now I was pretty sure that this pen was an appropriate choice even though at that moment I didn't realize just how appropriate if one things of the determination of the Southern effort in the Civil War.) And her mom promised to read the book to her. I explained to both parents that the first part of the book was not appropriate for her yet, but that if they read the book first they would see where to begin reading to her. They promised to do that. Sunday morning when we began the day, Mom said she had started reading the book the night before.
On Sunday Savannah began climbing the climbing wall with renewed determination. By the end of the day she had climbed clear to the top. I had watched several teen aged boys who had not made it. A couple of them had made it half way and the young man running the concession had had to help them back down. All of the climbers were in harnesses and were tethered by rope so they couldn't fall.
I think it was during the second day that Savannah, her mom and dad came to the Festival wearing their Team Savannah t-shirts for last year's American Diabetes Association StepOut Walk to Fight Diabetes. They were getting ready to participate in the Eugene, Oregon Oct. 9, 2010, event. Her mom told us Savannah was 5 and had been living with type 1 diabetes all her life.
She was one determined little girl. She had determined to climb the wall and in two days had done what a steady stream of boys and girls of all ages had not. She gave her best each try got back at the end of the line and tried again until she made it to the top and wasn't ready to stop when the day was over. She wanted a book, something that would last for a while, instead of an ice-cream that would be gone in a few moments. Her mom said she wanted to learn to whistle and she kept at it until she had mastered it. You have to admire that kind of spirit.
Respectfully
Kenneth Fenter
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Sister defends brother, That's the way it should be.
It is back to school time here in Oregon. In many parts of the country I understand school has been underway since the middle of August. Here we continue to begin with students the day after Labor Day. This year in Bend school will let out a week early, a result of budget cuts, the result of a continuing tight state economy.
As retired teachers, my wife and I still feel as if we are playing hooky seeing the big yellow buses drive by today and we are going out the door too. We will be over it by mid morning, however, as we go back to the pile of tasks that we have created for ourselves to work on.
With this new school year daunting tasks lie ahead for our nation's schools, administrators, teachers, and the precious students in their care. Besides the obvious task of guiding them through their educations, is assuring that they can learn in a peaceful, safe environment. Considering the energy level, often overcrowded condition, and backgrounds of the students in many classrooms and on playgrounds, maintaining a safe environment is sometimes a near impossible situation.
According to a report on the NBC evening news this past week, a national focus in public schools will be on curbing bullying. The report said that top level conferences had been held this summer to brainstorm ways to combat growing problems in physical, psychological and cyber bullying among elementary, mid-school, and high school students. The statistics given on the show were alarming but not different than what has been presented here, on the Stop Bullying Now web site, and other sites that are linked to on this site.
Emphasized on the report was the new theme, "It is no longer to use the excuse, 'boys will be boys,' 'girls will be girls.'.
It is interesting how subtle, how insidious, that bullying is, and yet how quickly it can be nipped in the bud if a person is vigilant. I saw that the other night at a family gathering. I had called the families together so that I could take photos of my five grand children in the back to school clothes. Two will be a fourth graders, one will a fifth grader, one an eighth grader and one a freshman in high school. In one family is a fourth grader, fifth grader and the freshman. The second family has the fourth grader and eighth grader. I was concentrating on trying to operate a camera that I was unfamiliar with as my own camera was on the fritz. Suddenly I heard my eighth grade grand daughter saying, "Your sarcasm is uncalled for," to her two cousins. I looked up and started to pay attention. Her two cousins, the fifth grader and his brother the freshman were on either side of their fourth grade cousin who was wearing his new school pants which were lime green. The younger cousin was saying, "I'm sorry but they are just not cool!" His older brother was shaking his head in agreement.
The younger cousin stoically looked off into the distance and kept his face straight with a little bit of a smile on it. It had only been a year or so before that he would have gotten up and stomped off in anger. He said, "Your negative humor isn't all that funny." To which his slightly older cousin replied, "Oh, I assure it isn't humor. I'm serious. Not cool."
I shut it down and told my grandson he had no right to talk to his cousin that way. End of conversation. I finished the few shots left and then turned to the eighth grade grand daughter and complimented her for standing up for her brother. I told her she had done exactly the right thing to do, and why. I then turned to the two cousins and told them that I felt they had no right to criticize their cousins choice in school wear. If it didn't match what they would have chosen, that was their right. But they did not have the right to choose for him, and they should stand up for his right to make his own choice, as I hoped he would stand up for their own choices. I then told the cousin that had sat through the hazing and told him how proud of him I was that he had not just sat there silently, but had told his cousin what he thought of their comments calmly without running away.
I was proud that the five of them finished the evening on good terms. They went in to dinner, sat at the same table apart from adults and seemed to enjoy themselves. I saw no evidence that there was any left over animosity, or ill feelings. It is possible that my grand daughter could have taken care of it herself. But I felt that it was worthwhile adding my credibility to the mix. I have a good rapport with my grandchildren because of projects we have done together and that helped.
The point is that hazing, teasing, bullying, whatever name you want to give it can occur in such a subtle way that you are hardly aware that it is going on. Nipped quickly and it can go away. Let to fester, and it can become a cancer.
As retired teachers, my wife and I still feel as if we are playing hooky seeing the big yellow buses drive by today and we are going out the door too. We will be over it by mid morning, however, as we go back to the pile of tasks that we have created for ourselves to work on.
With this new school year daunting tasks lie ahead for our nation's schools, administrators, teachers, and the precious students in their care. Besides the obvious task of guiding them through their educations, is assuring that they can learn in a peaceful, safe environment. Considering the energy level, often overcrowded condition, and backgrounds of the students in many classrooms and on playgrounds, maintaining a safe environment is sometimes a near impossible situation.
According to a report on the NBC evening news this past week, a national focus in public schools will be on curbing bullying. The report said that top level conferences had been held this summer to brainstorm ways to combat growing problems in physical, psychological and cyber bullying among elementary, mid-school, and high school students. The statistics given on the show were alarming but not different than what has been presented here, on the Stop Bullying Now web site, and other sites that are linked to on this site.
Emphasized on the report was the new theme, "It is no longer to use the excuse, 'boys will be boys,' 'girls will be girls.'.
It is interesting how subtle, how insidious, that bullying is, and yet how quickly it can be nipped in the bud if a person is vigilant. I saw that the other night at a family gathering. I had called the families together so that I could take photos of my five grand children in the back to school clothes. Two will be a fourth graders, one will a fifth grader, one an eighth grader and one a freshman in high school. In one family is a fourth grader, fifth grader and the freshman. The second family has the fourth grader and eighth grader. I was concentrating on trying to operate a camera that I was unfamiliar with as my own camera was on the fritz. Suddenly I heard my eighth grade grand daughter saying, "Your sarcasm is uncalled for," to her two cousins. I looked up and started to pay attention. Her two cousins, the fifth grader and his brother the freshman were on either side of their fourth grade cousin who was wearing his new school pants which were lime green. The younger cousin was saying, "I'm sorry but they are just not cool!" His older brother was shaking his head in agreement.
The younger cousin stoically looked off into the distance and kept his face straight with a little bit of a smile on it. It had only been a year or so before that he would have gotten up and stomped off in anger. He said, "Your negative humor isn't all that funny." To which his slightly older cousin replied, "Oh, I assure it isn't humor. I'm serious. Not cool."
I shut it down and told my grandson he had no right to talk to his cousin that way. End of conversation. I finished the few shots left and then turned to the eighth grade grand daughter and complimented her for standing up for her brother. I told her she had done exactly the right thing to do, and why. I then turned to the two cousins and told them that I felt they had no right to criticize their cousins choice in school wear. If it didn't match what they would have chosen, that was their right. But they did not have the right to choose for him, and they should stand up for his right to make his own choice, as I hoped he would stand up for their own choices. I then told the cousin that had sat through the hazing and told him how proud of him I was that he had not just sat there silently, but had told his cousin what he thought of their comments calmly without running away.
I was proud that the five of them finished the evening on good terms. They went in to dinner, sat at the same table apart from adults and seemed to enjoy themselves. I saw no evidence that there was any left over animosity, or ill feelings. It is possible that my grand daughter could have taken care of it herself. But I felt that it was worthwhile adding my credibility to the mix. I have a good rapport with my grandchildren because of projects we have done together and that helped.
The point is that hazing, teasing, bullying, whatever name you want to give it can occur in such a subtle way that you are hardly aware that it is going on. Nipped quickly and it can go away. Let to fester, and it can become a cancer.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Growing a novel one book at a time
In Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, Topsy a slave girl, says, "I s'pect I just growed. While the character Topsy may have been bewildered about where she came from, the book that spawned the expression exploded on world in 1852 and according to some historians helped to lay the groundwork for the Civil War. It became the the best selling novel of the 19th Century and the second best selling of book of the 1800's following the Bible. To "grow like Topsy" became a common phrase.
Well, I can't exactly say that my novel is in that category of "growing like Topsy" yet. But it is fun to see it grow and spread. In some ways I can chart it's growth, but once a book leaves my door and heads toward a reader's hands, it is out of sight. From there, I have no idea whether the person who requested it, either with an order or who just asked for as a friend, will actually read it, start it and lay it aside after a few pages, read it in a few days, read it over a long time, or what. And then what happens to it? Does it get put onto a shelf? Is it put into a sack to go to Goodwill? Put into the recycle bin? Recycled along with a box of other books at used bookstore by trading for other books? Handed to a friend? Given to a local library?
All of the above paragraph describe the things that my wife and I do with the books that we buy.
Last night when I checked out what was going on with The Ruin on Amazon I was delighted to see the first used copies hit. What surprised was that the used copies are listed at a higher price than the new copies! The thing about those first hundred copies or so that went out was that they were printed here in my facilities and were each individually handled and mostly signed. Maybe that makes them collectors items.
The thing that pleased me though was it indicates to me the book has a life of its own.
That makes me feel good about it.
Respectfully,
Kenneth Fenter
Well, I can't exactly say that my novel is in that category of "growing like Topsy" yet. But it is fun to see it grow and spread. In some ways I can chart it's growth, but once a book leaves my door and heads toward a reader's hands, it is out of sight. From there, I have no idea whether the person who requested it, either with an order or who just asked for as a friend, will actually read it, start it and lay it aside after a few pages, read it in a few days, read it over a long time, or what. And then what happens to it? Does it get put onto a shelf? Is it put into a sack to go to Goodwill? Put into the recycle bin? Recycled along with a box of other books at used bookstore by trading for other books? Handed to a friend? Given to a local library?
All of the above paragraph describe the things that my wife and I do with the books that we buy.
Last night when I checked out what was going on with The Ruin on Amazon I was delighted to see the first used copies hit. What surprised was that the used copies are listed at a higher price than the new copies! The thing about those first hundred copies or so that went out was that they were printed here in my facilities and were each individually handled and mostly signed. Maybe that makes them collectors items.
The thing that pleased me though was it indicates to me the book has a life of its own.
That makes me feel good about it.
Respectfully,
Kenneth Fenter
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