Week Ten - Activity 1

1. A positive event from my childhood:
My grandmother moved in with my family when I was 4 years old. She was much older than other grandmothers of children my age because she had my father when she was 35. My father was almost 30 when he had me, so that made her about 65. 65 now doesn't seem that old, but at 4 years old, 65 was ancient. She never wore hair-dye, so she looked like a grandmother. She also had a hard, but good, life. She worked at a lot of service jobs, and had Scoliosis bad, so she was always bent over which made her look like she had a hump on her back. When she married at 19, she was 5'7" but she had shrunk to about 4'10" by the time she died at the age of 88.

I remember she always cooked. My parents both worked, but she was home when we would get back from school. She would make us grilled cheese sandwiches. She loved to bake, and would make lots and lots of cookies during the holidays. Unfortunately, these cookies were old-world cookies with funny names and funny, adult tastes. She would make almond cookies and balish, strudels and potica. She was famous for her potica. Potica is a Hungarian nut-roll with walnuts and lots (and lots) of sugar. When I was a teenager and had an opportunity to go to Europe for a few weeks one summer, my grandmother and mother baked Potica's to sell and paid for my trip that way. I should have helped, said I would help, but didn't. I never really baked Potica's with my grandmother. It wasn't until after she died that I started baking Potica with my mother. It started as a sure-fire way to make extra cash during the holidays, one year we made enough to fly four people to Florida, but as I did it, and loved it, It turned into a way to honor my grandmother and, I hope, I hope, a way to show her my appreciation for always being there for me.

2. A negative event from my childhood:
I remember middle school being particularly traumatizing to me. I am the only girl among three brothers, as a child I was assertive, outspoken and bold. When I hit middle school, and puberty, things changed drastically. I NEVER spoke up in class or even raised my hand, I was shy and introverted. I had a small group of friends, but not the close knit group I had in elementary school. As far as a detail.... hmm, I remember being picked on a lot, although I don't really remember why - I imagine it was because I was an easy target because I didn't speak up.

3. A particular event that stands out from my teenage years:
When I got my driver's license. I couldn't wait to get it, I signed up for my temps as soon as I could, took my drivers ed class immediately and took the drivers test as soon as I was eligible. I remember the first time I got to drive by myself. It was a day or two after I passed my test and I drove my Mom somewhere to drop her off. One rule my parent's had when I was learning to drive was that the radio had to be off. I understood why, it was for my safety - to cut down on the distractions. I dropped her off and started the 15 minute drive home. I got about 5 minutes into the ride when it hit me that I was alone, the car was quiet and I had my drivers license! I turned on the radio, thank you very much, and loved the freedom - and defiance - of it!


4. A vivid/important memory from my adult years:
Driving into Kentucky for the first time. I was on my way to eastern Kentucky where I was to spend the next three months interning during my college years. I didn't know what to expect from the job, nor from the area. I didn't know anything about Eastern Kentucky or Appalachia... hell, I still pronounced it Apple-Aye-shon because that was how I was taught in school. The only thing I remembered about being taught about Appalachia in school was that it was a mountain range in the eastern U.S. That's it. Nothing about the rich culture and traditions. nothing about the streams and forests, nor about the coal that came from those mountains that powered our lights and what that meant to the people who lived in that region - for better and for worse.  I had no idea that the term "hillbilly" had multiple meanings and was largely embraced and celebrated. My only experience I had with hillbillies was my grandfather, who called himself one while he cussed and farted in public (much to my embarrassment).  I remember driving to eastern Kentucky, unsure of how to handle the winding, two lane, 55 mph roads, and unsure of what to expect. I remember embracing the idea of having no expectations. I started my work, scared but open to whatever happened.

This internship was supposed to be my required "cross-cultural" experience I needed to graduate. I at first thought - what a joke, kentucky is my "cross-cultural" experience? It was pretty early into the experience when I realized that I had no idea what culture even really, really meant until that time. I could clearly see how spanish culture differed from mine, for instance, but it wasn't until I experienced the subtle but strong difference in Appalachian vs. the northeastern middle American culture I came from, did I understand what culture was or how persuasive and encompassing it was.

5. A turning point in my life:
I guess I have to turn back to my Kentucky experience for this one. I always wanted to make movies as a kid, and I always thought I'd end up in New York or some other big city. I never in a million years dreamed that I would fall in love with the mountains. I was supposed to stay 3 months in Kentucky for my internship, I ended up staying 9 months that first stretch. I fell in love, both literally and figuratively, and ended up returning to Kentucky 9 months later to live and work. I married the mountain-raised man I fell for, had my first child in the mountains. Along the way I discovered a passion for education, having taught young Appalachians how to make media so they could offer an alternative view of their culture.  I realized that mainstream media was co-opting and exploited a true, but incomplete part of this culture for commercial gain and money.