From Punjab to Stewart. Aman's story

Aman is the detainee I visited at Stewart yesterday afternoon. This is not his real name. We were encouraged to change them if we wrote or talked about our experiences, for the safety of the detainees. Aman means "Peace" in his native Punjabi language.  

I  should also say that all of these stories are my best recollections based on the notes I took after leaving the visiting area. Visitors are not allowed to bring phones, cameras or any recording devices in even to the waiting area. We also are not allowed pen and paper back to the visiting area, even though we are in separate rooms divided by a block wall and plexiglass. The only possible explanation for this is the ICE and CoreCivic, the private firm that runs the center, don't want detailed notes about the detainees or the conditions being taken. 

Still, a little contraband gets back there anyway, as I "fuck this", among other things, scratched into the metal window frame and "the system is unjust" written in Sharpie on one of the chairs.  

Aman speaks very little English and I speak zero Punjabi, so we did the best we could. What I learned is that he has been in ICE custody for about 15 months; nine at another location and six here at Stewart. He thinks he will be deported back to Punjab in about two months. 

He arrived in the US via a flight from India to Quito, Ecuador. He then traveled by foot, bus, and taxi to the US border. Look at a map to see what his journey was. From Ecuador through Columbia, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico and finally the US.  It's about 2,000 miles point to point in the air. Google can't calculate a driving time or distance and the terrain is extremely rough in some places. 

Aman is a farmer back home. We were able talk a little about what he grows: tomatoes, potatoes, onions. He came to America fleeing political violence. He tried to explain this to me, talking a bit about two parties but we struggled with this due to the language barrier. He showed me two large scars on his upper arm and chest. Aman made a slashing motion indicating he was cut with a sword or machete. His mother passed away and he teared up when he talked about this, which led me to think she may have been killed in the violence (incidentally, I did Google some of his when I got back in the car and found recent articles about violence in the Punjab region of India and English editions of Indian newspapers). 

Aman is in his 40's like me (well, almost), and has two sons back home. They are staying in a Sikh temple right now and he feels they are safe.  

Aman did not have much in the way of complaints about his situation and he seemed resigned to his fate. He said the food and grounds are ok. He only gets to go outside 1 – 2 times per week and no natural light gets in to the detainee area of the complex. When I was there, for the better part of 4 hours, I did not see any detainees in any of the yard areas. He also said they never turn off the lights in their rooms at night. He asked for a Punjabi book, clothes for his trip back home, and to put some money on his calling card account so he could call back home. He said "God bless you" and that he would pray for me and I told him the same

That's it for now. I'll share a bit about Stewart next time and then continue on with the stories.  

Welcome to Stewart, not what I expected.

I went to Lumpkin, GA today to visit detainees at the Stewart Detention Center. I had certain expectations going in, almost all of which were dispelled once I arrived.

I expected mostly Hispanic detainees. I found of the 8 we went to visit only 2 were Hispanic. The others were from Nepal, India, Senegal and Nigeria.

I expected recent arrivals with few local connections. I found people with decades in the US and deep connections. 

I expected a "Detention Center". I found a prison. 

I got to see a father and son reunited after the son spent 72 days in detention. 

I heard stories from the dad, Adam (the detainee I visited about, not his real name), a wife of 12 years, a grandmother, a daughter and two volunteer translators. 

As my traveling companion today told me, this is about the stories, not the statistics. 

I'll share the stories over the next few days. I doubt they'll be what you expect. 

Forrest Gump was half right.

Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.

And it's like a box of Legos, or building blocks or even a house of cards. Building it up  takes a lot of work. And it's fragile. And one person intent on doing harm or even willfully neglectful can tear it all down.

Nothing good just happens

We are approaching the end of the first half of the year, and in my household, the end of the first half of summer, considering that our kids start back to school so early.

It makes me think about some of the goals I set for the year and summer. Some of them are going quite well some of them not so much. In the going well category, I can look back at my calendar, journal and back in my mind and see where I have dedicated significant amounts of my own time and the time and support of others to help make the things that happened.

I can also see where goals, personal and professional, have fallen short. I can’t find the same bread crumbs of activity across my calendar and on reflection as I can for the things that happened. 

I am sure it’s a shocking revelation, but nothing good or great just happens. Good, meaningful accomplishments (and relationships) take work and dedication and interest and focus. They also require help and support from team members, coworkers, family and friends. And when you look back across your calendar and memories, you can see the tracks. It’s cliché, but success leaves a trail. 

In praise of crappy

I tend to obsess over getting everything just right. If I'm running, I need my Fitbit, the precise miles and times. If I'm writing, it's perfect (at least to me) message, theme, grammar, just the right words. Powerpoints, spreadsheets, you name it. Even this.  All that's great, but sometimes the pursuit of perfect gets in the way of the journey to really good, or even perfect. So, for my blogs, the theme is "crappy". One hundred crappy words a day. And I'm going to see how much more crappy stuff I can do. Because I know if I keep cranking out crappy, sooner or later a gem will come along. So if you follow my blog, no apologies. The crap is coming.  

Amen.  

Brian Tam for Republican Nomination SD 27

For the Republican nomination for state district for state Senate District 27, I support Brian Tam.

I’ve been a Forsyth county resident for the last 12 years and my three kids have a total of 29 years in our school system. The growth has not been perfect over that time. Along 141 we have too many car washes and storage units and not enough offices and light manufacturing. We also lack for affordable housing. That said, I believe that FoCo has improved in the 12 years that I’ve been here, thanks at least in part to Brian‘s service and leadership.

In addition, there are several aspects of his opponent’s campaign and positions that I can’t support.

First is his argument to repeal the state income tax. I had this conversation sitting across the table at Starbucks one on one with Greg back in the fall. His argument was that he knew people who made $1 million a year who were separating from their spouses in buying property in other states to avoid the 6% state income tax on their million-dollar earnings. I can’t relate to people with these “troubles” (there are first world probs, then there are the 0.1% probs) and I doubt many of us can. If this is the constituency he is looking out for, what is he doing for the rest of Georgia?

Next is the general tone of Greg’s campaign. “I stand with Trump on Immigration” stinks on a good day. On a day like today (5/8/18) when Trump’s AG stands up and vows to separate families coming to America fleeing persecution back home it’s downright offensive. We’ve done this before and it remains a stain on our national reputation. Closely behind this ad is the “I beat Obama” meme. No, you didn’t.

Finally, and perhaps most important to me, is that Greg is endorsed by our current sitting state Senator Michael Williams and Greg claims Michael as a member of his steering committee. As a state senator, I found Michael to be completely unresponsive to any time I reached out to him (as opposed to Mike Dudgeon, who was always cordial and responsive even though we disagreed). As a candidate for governor, Michael has continually embarrassed Georgia and Forsyth county with his antics Including, a bump stock raffle, and unwanted protest at a Cherokee county high school, and his repeated appearances on national media. Forsyth county is better than that. Side note, Williams is no longer listed as a steering committee member on Greg’s page, but he was when we met a few months back and I’ve never heard Greg publicly disavow any of Michael’s behavior.

Plus, back in Brian’s favor, Brian Tam strikes me as a genuinely nice guy who has worked hard for our county for over a decade. And there is no nicer evening than a great steak and bottle of wine at Tam’s followed by a show upstairs at the Cumming Playhouse. Also, Brian, from what I’ve seen, has run a high road campaign compared to his opponent.

Finally, I am turning off comments. Not to suppress speech. People can say whatever they want to on their own thread. The last time I posted to this page there was lots of general nastiness and personal attacks and name calling and that’s how most posts seem to go. I’m a big boy and I can handle it, but I don’t feel any obligation to provide a platform.

Peace, from your friend and neighbor.

Lessons from a Bad Haircut

I got a bad haircut this weekend. It was partially my fault. I went to the barber shop with a hat on my head I'd been wearing all morning since I had not taken a shower before taking Claire for her ACT sitting. It was a spur of the moment thing. I got the first available barber so I could get in and out quickly. 

The barber seem to be struggling a bit. It took him two or three tries to get it more or less right. The hat head made it a little hard to tell. I thanked him and went on my way.

When I got home and took a shower to get ready to go to a neighborhood cookout on Saturday night, I realized how bad things were. It was sort of a of normal look and one side and Billy Bob Thorton Sling Blade on the other side. Jenny noticed it right away.

So Sunday after church I went back to the barbershop. I told the lady at the front desk I had been there yesterday and made a brief gesture to the left side of my head. She said, and I’m not making this up, “say no more, we'll fix it“. She stepped back to one of the other barbers and explained what was going on. She got me into the back very quickly and another one of the barbers fixed me right up. If you see me at work later today you can let me know if it turned out ok.

As I was leaving, the receptionist apologized and said the barber was new. I figured that was the case since I saw him observing other barbers when I walked back in on Sunday. I told the receptionist that I was a regular customer and that I would continue to be a regular customer. That it was no big deal that it was only hair. 

They got me thinking about apprentices. We have all at some point or another either been an apprentice. And many of us have or will become a "master craftsman" in our trade, or we might be a leader who is responsible for both. On any given day, I might be all three at different points. 

Or you might be a customer with a bad haircut.  

Going back to the middle ages, apprentices would sign on with "master craftsmen" for anywhere from two to seven years to learn to "master" a trade. The craftsman received low cost labor in exchange for room, board, and formal training in a craft. The system still formally exists in many countries today, including Austria, France, Germany and India. 

When mistakes (or happy little accidents) happen, it's an opportunity to show some good humor, grace, and humility. We've all been there. Hopefully the stakes are low, like hair, but sometimes they won't be. 

Whatever your role and the circumstances, apprentices need a chance to do, screw up, repeat, and get better. They need coaching from their "master craftsman" and some personal humility, recognizing they still have to learn. 

Stuff happens, it's only hair, and it will grow back.