tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88810350897006662362024-02-18T19:13:46.735-08:00Nadia Won't Shut UpWhy am I referring to myself in the third person? Is it because I have a huge ego? Is it a nervous tick? Has Nadia made this an unnerving new habit?
Who knows. I just know that I can't shut up, actually I won't shut up...ever...so this blog is a result of my inability and unwillingness to keep my mouth shut. Occasionally I may say something important, so watch out, pay attention and READ ON...S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-52212311732246146742016-07-13T21:00:00.004-07:002016-07-13T21:11:36.941-07:00A Birthday WishI posted this last Friday on my birthday and it garnered a lot of likes and positive reactions on Facebook. In light of all that has happened in the last few weeks, I had to unload some of the heaviness in my heart. Thank you for reading.<br />
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"Today is my birthday, yet on my way to work I had tears running down my
face. Black people fearing for their lives, Muslims fearing for their
lives, LGBTQ communities fearing for their lives, police officers
fearing for their lives, innocent people around the world going about
their day fearing attacks and slaughter. So much violence, pain and
fear.<br />
<br />
I was at Eid prayer this past Wednesday in a park in my hometown.
The Muslim community has grown so large that we cannot all fit in the
mosque, so we had our morning prayer in a public park. The day as
beautiful, sunny and peaceful. Yet my heart was dark and cloudy with
dread. I looked up as people began to pray and noticed that there were
men from the mosque posted around the prayer group, scanning the
environment. I realized that instead of praying they were playing the
part of security, trying to ensure our safety. My sister even whispered
to me before that "do you think they hired security?". Security. For a
peaceful prayer at a park in America.<br />
<br />
I mourn for the black community, I
have never stopped mourning for the black community. I have worked
alongside my brothers and sisters from this community since I was 16. My
heart is heavy with devastation after seeing the two videos that are in
a long line of execution videos, because the systems that criminalize
the crime of too much melanin in our skin will not admit their mistakes,
they will not concede the need for change.<br />
<br />
I mourn today for police
officers who were gunned down in Dallas. I have great regard for police
that do serve and protect their communities. Once my mother was lost on
the highway and flagged down a police officer for help because she
didn't know how to get home. When he told her how, she realized she
didn't have toll money and the police gave her money for her toll. She
was so grateful to him for his generosity and help. On the other end, my
husband, who is of Latino background has been routinely profiled and
stopped for no other reason than the fact that he was Latino, and based
on that alone he was handcuffed to the side of the road and had his car
searched because they thought he had drugs. My husband was a Marine, he
even has a Marine sticker on his car.<br />
<br />
I mourn my community in
Bangladesh, as they reel from a terrorist attack in an area full of
family members and friends and where my parents lived before immigrating
to this country. I mourn for Syria, Baghdad and Turkey. I mourn for
Orlando and for the LGBTQ community that have shared their safe spaces
with me, no questions asked.<br />
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I mourn for all the families, parents,
children, siblings and friends who have lost and are losing people here
and abroad to anger, violence and rage.<br />
<br />
In the end all I can hope for is
that each one of us works to make the world a better place in the
realization that peace, equality, and empathy are all values we can
carry and act on, not only in our daily lives, in our work and in our
efforts for justice but also something we demand from the institutions
that govern our lives.<br />
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You aren't supposed to tell people your birthday
wish but that is my wish, this and every birthday."<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
NadiaS. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-62172888688605269812016-03-29T09:41:00.001-07:002016-05-09T17:06:27.513-07:00Happy Birthday to Me: Motherhood a Year LaterEvery time you celebrate your birthday by going to town on an obscene amount of shots, or by partying the night away, or eating a pint of ice cream in your pajamas, what you are also celebrating is the day a woman's body pretty much ripped itself in half to give you life. Since we are not in the matrix yet (or are we? ::shifts eyes::) this is true of every single human being in existence ever. For me, this is not just my son Zakir's birthdate, this is my first year anniversary of being a mother.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me right after birthing Zakir trying my hardest to smile. My face says it all.</td></tr>
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At 1:44am a year ago, I gave birth to my son. I was in labor for I suppose about 20 hours, but it wasn't so bad once the drugs kicked in. Drugs were so awesome. I don't think I could thank modern medicine enough for giving me relief during labor. Cool beans to ladies who have done it without drugs, but life is enough of a struggle for me than to make child birth one of them. It chilled me out enough to facebook post during labor and take some nice naps in between throwing up. Because as happy as the epidural was, the pure force of labor still made me vomit all over my mother and the nurse.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SEEN HERE : not me</td></tr>
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Motherhood has changed how I look at everything. I don't think being a mother is any different if you physically give birth or adopt. I think loving, caring for and raising a child is one and the same. I also don't think motherhood is a good fit for everyone and that women who choose to never have kids shouldn't be asked constantly to justify their no child status or pressured into having any. I also realize that motherhood is a privilege, there are women whose greatest wish is to give birth to a child, and for many that deep desire remains unfulfilled. Then there are the mothers who have experienced miscarriages, stillbirths and the loss of an infant or child. For them once they are a mother, they will always remain a mother to that child. In my life I know women who fall under each of these categories, and though I will never pretend that I understand all of their individual experiences, my feelings towards these different situations has only deepened in understanding and respect after becoming a mother myself. <br />
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With this is mind I can speak that for <i>me</i> motherhood in this first year is indescribable. I think that's the only adjective that really fits. I described it on my Facebook as "<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">A beautiful, vomity, bloody screaming mess with lots of poop. So much poop. And hugs." I mean really, that about sums it up for me. Motherhood is so damn visceral, in every possible sense. We decorate moms and babies in pastel colors, with a halo of peace and love. Society makes it so serene, so <i>perfect</i>. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>SO PEACEFUL</i></td></tr>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Scrap that, motherhood is badass, it's bloody, it's nature, full force. I'm not talking camping nature. I'm talking lions ripping wildebeests apart, volcanoes erupting, dinosaur extinction nature. The hurricane force that goes through your body when you expel an entire <i>person</i> out of your being is the very core of existence. Raw, unhinged and wild. It was so intense that my brain literally forgot things and fogged out my memory from remembering the hardest parts, it was that physically traumatizing. There is a purpose to this convenient memory lapse, this is so I will want other children. Because believe me, I do want other kids, nature and my cuddly awesome progeny has tricked me into thinking it's a good idea.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nature is beautiful</td></tr>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">But <i>why</i> is it a good idea? I'll tell you why, because motherhood has changed me. Everyone says it does, but it's so true. I'm still the same person, not even an ounce more mature or put together, but definitely trying a lot harder. Because frankly I have no choice. I have to put on my big girl pants for Zakir, because if I don't no one will put them on for me to raise him. Okay, I lied, my mother helps me tremendously and has been his primary caretaker when I returned to work. My mom helps me with my mommy big girl pants. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks mother, for helping both my and Zakir survive our first year together</td></tr>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"> More than that, I feel like my blood, my brain, my heart and my entire being has changed (scientifically it actually <a href="https://www.sciencenews.org/blog/growth-curve/children%E2%80%99s-cells-live-mothers" target="_blank">has</a>). And I'm not talking about the 20 pound weight gain and missing sexy abs. It feels like my heart got carved out and filled in with something different, and that 'different' is my son. I know I may still have new mom hormones surging through my body but the way I feel towards Zakir is overwhelming if I actually stop to think about it. When he's making super high pitched noises coz I stuck him in his playpen again, or when it takes 2 hours to feed him one meal, the love feeling is kind of taken over by the "oh my god you are so <i>annoying</i>" feeling. But there are magical moments, when I hold him tightly against my chest because that's the only way to calm his yells for "mama, mama, maaaamaaaaaa" or to calm him if he's feeling sick or sleepy. Moments when I watch him sleep at night, tears flow freely from my eyes. Tears of the purest love, intense, overwhelming, I-will-die-for- you, move-the-earth-for-you kind of love. Literally he's a piece of my soul that decided to detach and join the rest of the world outside me. And that's excruciating, it's overwhelming, it's maddening, it's exhilarating, and I guess, well, it's being a parent.</span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><br /></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Outside of these off the wall feelings during this first year, I am just damn grateful. I would like to pat my mom on the back for helping me keep my son alive and functional. I want to thank all of the friends who have absolutely spoiled my family with gifts, support and love. Seriously, my home is overrun with toys and baby stuff and I bought none of it. NONE OF IT. They basically made sure Zakir has been clothed so far. I want to thank my fellow mothers who checked in on me and understood when for the first 3 months of Zakir's birth I felt like an absolute crazy person, and frankly hated being a mom. For the first 3 months I wondered why I didn't use birth control because Zakir was awesome but I felt terrible. Not depression as much as physical pain from breastfeeding and birth recovery, guilt at not knowing what the hell I was doing, weight gain I have never experienced and trying to get back to a life that has irrevocably changed. Thank you moms for making me feel less like a wild animal and more like a regular female who had just shaken her world from its core forever. Thank you to my husband, frenemy, partner, good-looking baby maker, Roberto, for taking this journey with me as we navigate our lives as new parents, as a couple, as people wanting to advance our careers as we try to navigate mountains of debt while unsuccessfully (so far) buying a home for our family. </span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><br /></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">While writing this post, it turned 1:44 am, the time of Zakir's birth. I took a break from blogging to give my sleeping angel koala baby a kiss Happy Birthday. The tears came again, I could barely even choke out the "Happy Birthday" part, and when I kissed him, my tears glistened upon his perfect sleeping face. He's perfect, who knows if I will think that when he's a hysterical toddler and an annoying angsty teenager who listens to music I hate. But for now, he's perfect and part of me thinks, angsty teenager or not, I will always think so. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll love you anyway kid.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-88479952850592285622015-11-12T23:33:00.000-08:002015-11-17T13:32:05.019-08:00A Beautiful Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On Monday, my great aunt Nazneen Begum passed away in Bangladesh. I hadn't seen her in person since I was 12 years old when she came to visit my family all the way in Wilkes-Barre, PA, where she stayed with us for about two weeks. She was hilarious, adventurous and someone who loved nature. Even though she was my grandmothers youngest sister and her hair had completely greyed, she had the spirit of a young woman or a child even. She and my mother literally frolicked about, gathering wild flowers in meadows they randomly stopped by off interstate highways. I remember my aunt, whom I called "Shundor Nanu" or "pretty grandma" in Bengali, taking off her shoes with no hesitation to go wading in a lake, her salwar kameez hiked past her calves. She and my mother were kindred spirits, connected from my mother's childhood, more best friends than aunt and niece. She would sleep next to my mother teaching her traditional Bengali songs and telling her poems that my mother has memorized to this very day.<br />
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But she was so much more than a relative that was fun yet separated from me by thousands of miles of oceans and continents. My aunt was a fierce lady. She was the very definition of a fierce lady. She spent a lifetime teaching girls. She taught at countless schools throughout the country and later became a professor. She even came to America to teach at schools here and continued her education at a Cal State, her passion to educate and to learn pushing her across borders and oceans. She was an voracious reader, my mother told me that her home was lined with books, books and more books. This is something else we have in common.<br />
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Empowering girls, teaching and advancing education were her greatest passion. She came from a generation of sisters who were married off young due to the turmoils of not one, but two wars. One war that saw the world battle from the shores of Europe to the South Pacific, to a violent partition that tore apart the British Raj into the modern day Indian subcontinent. She knew that marriage and childbirth were not the default pinnacle of a woman's ability and ambition. She knew and dedicated herself to education, the one thing that could change the lives of women, families and communities. In the heart of it all she was a social justice activist. Her work was not only limited to teaching. I recently found out that she also rallied teachers to march and protest calling for better pay and workers rights. I wish I had known all this when she had visited for those 15 days. But I was barely in middle school, only beginning to touch on thinking about the grander impact I wanted to make on the world. I loved her but I didn't know her whole story, not in the way I appreciate it now.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotoTagList" id="fbPhotoSnowliftTagList"><span class="fcg"><span class="fbPhotoTagListTag withTagItem tagItem"><span class="textTagHovercardLink taggee">Students at my aunt's Mohammad Eusuf Higher Secondary School</span></span></span></span></td></tr>
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She never stopped caring about education. When she retired, she took all her retirement money to finally open a girls school of her own, something that had been a dream of hers. She named it the <span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Mohammad Eusuf Kindergarten and High <span class="text_exposed_show">School, after another great lifelong activist, her father and my great grandfather, who rallied and organized politically with Ghandhi's non cooperative movement in India. He was a lawyer and activist who joined efforts to drive out British colonialism and later became a teacher himself. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">As I reflect upon my own social justice work and commitments, I feel so deeply rooted in knowing the history of my own family in social movements and in efforts for social good. Is this passion to create change genetic? Is it passed down somehow through blood, through the coding in our DNA? Or is it passed through stories and learning, through the songs and poems my Shundor Nanu taught my mother as a young girl, who looks up to her to this very day with the utmost love and reverence?</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nazneen Begum</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">I'm not sure of the answer but I am sure of one thing. I am grateful that a woman like Nazneen Begum graced our world and shone as brightly as she has. I am grateful for the love she spread like ripples in water to those in her family and in her community. The light she has inspired in every student she taught, to those girls who are getting an education in her school who will shine brightly for generations after her. It is incredible to think how many lives just one person can touch. It is a lesson I hope to embody in my activism every day. Thank you Shundor Nanu, I am also someone who was touched by your light.</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span></span>S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-66165655524713027312015-10-25T18:06:00.000-07:002015-10-28T12:20:35.631-07:00Unapologetic MotherhoodSo I've been handing out my personal business cards to people and it has this blog on it so I figured I should write in it since my last post was all the way back in July. Can I blame it being a new mother? Yea, let's go with that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL05sKERuE8Ra38_llstIt6UC1XzA4gQ7htJJKGz3NAjIC-3C4tssb9QLPDwfnvpiSTrq8IBHmWOplHx0MJswbBVVWLxrFh0t1eJQy7yWbFVa4FXSkJxf00JF9zHnxCaZhPZ_wn87lKqc/s1600/No_Excuses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL05sKERuE8Ra38_llstIt6UC1XzA4gQ7htJJKGz3NAjIC-3C4tssb9QLPDwfnvpiSTrq8IBHmWOplHx0MJswbBVVWLxrFh0t1eJQy7yWbFVa4FXSkJxf00JF9zHnxCaZhPZ_wn87lKqc/s1600/No_Excuses.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Motherhood is less maddening now, mostly because my own mother has been the biggest help. She can watch the babe if I go to networking events in the evening or when I have panels on weekends. I could leave Zakir at home when I attend all these events but I'll be honest, I really miss him! Yes I have to leave some sessions to rock him to sleep (especially because he starts grunting loudly when he's tired) but it's still worth it to hold his warm, snuggly, chubby little body against me while I listen to presenters talk about political empowerment and activism.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj-PNr47f5IXmJXTyRcdB7pxean6loQOPIL4HXeChOFXNCItfZhGGnru0z7_iUroXPqbXUTF2maS-MsHwduyFvQvWIrj2-hpnIodqVS4bPmcvG6M65vZENF0Tl0qPJs4G6Q37KpphCbkw/s1600/1472101_10105654143977029_2068981966053619325_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj-PNr47f5IXmJXTyRcdB7pxean6loQOPIL4HXeChOFXNCItfZhGGnru0z7_iUroXPqbXUTF2maS-MsHwduyFvQvWIrj2-hpnIodqVS4bPmcvG6M65vZENF0Tl0qPJs4G6Q37KpphCbkw/s320/1472101_10105654143977029_2068981966053619325_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zakir and my mom joining me when I spoke at the League of Women Voters NJ Fall Democracy Forum</td></tr>
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I know parenthood drastically changes ones life and often, ones waistline but I know for myself that I wanted to keep the parts of my life that were important to me alive somehow. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/janie-porter/an-open-letter-to-my-friends-who-dont-have-kids_b_5823776.html" target="_blank">This article about basically focusing on your baby and nothing else and having no friends is my worst nightmare.</a> I seriously hope that my life never gets to that point, but is that even possible? Can you be a mom and not be holed up shut in with no other priorities except for the survival of your progeny?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxLShYocLJJboMHx_P2yzRogApuE4HmPILDgOP7wGjEWSyg4OFRngGO3U4x0XuQ7FdrHFJF1xkaSNZMrPoMO-A4BJhNMxNAjhVbtm4ttyHJHrVCUwqEPdbXaqteIe7rIiJlqUdYibtS1p/s1600/12003248_980368012028056_1096832038060298217_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxLShYocLJJboMHx_P2yzRogApuE4HmPILDgOP7wGjEWSyg4OFRngGO3U4x0XuQ7FdrHFJF1xkaSNZMrPoMO-A4BJhNMxNAjhVbtm4ttyHJHrVCUwqEPdbXaqteIe7rIiJlqUdYibtS1p/s320/12003248_980368012028056_1096832038060298217_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> I present to you Lisa Ronzulli, member of the Italian parliament representing with her little girl</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I see articles all over about motherhood and where mothers can bring kids. Everyone has an opinion, both men and women. There was an article<a href="http://jezebel.com/i-was-asked-to-leave-a-womens-empowerment-seminar-for-b-1734760090" target="_blank"> on Jezebel, about how a mother was asked to leave a women's conference for bringing her baby</a>. I should know by now to ignore the comments section of any online article, and this was no exception. People repeatedly agreed that babies should stay at home and that a mom should just "find a sitter".<br />
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There have been many times that I have taken Zakir out with me to women's meeting and panels when I didn't have to. I could have left him at home with my mother. However I take pride in bringing him along. I am still the old Nadia but am also a mother now and I don't understand why being an active member of society without having to shove your baby off with a baby sitter can't be a thing. I don't take my kid everywhere- some places are not appropriate of course, or can be plain annoying or an ordeal for baby (such as all-day conferences)- but within reason I like to take him. I feel like political motherhood should be normalized. Just like the photo above. Being a mother is such a powerful thing, as mothers we are raising the future of us all. The future of our entire society! Every person comes from the body of a mother but still the treatment of women around the world and in our own backyard is appalling.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn.theatlantic.com/static/mt/assets/hua_hsu/cohen_onepercent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn.theatlantic.com/static/mt/assets/hua_hsu/cohen_onepercent.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AAGGGHHHHH ::bangs head repeatedly against the same damn wall::</td></tr>
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Being a mother is an incredible, amazing and challenging experience that shouldn't be relegated to being only within the home with your child or just taking them along for errands (unless that is fully your choice of course). Motherhood shouldn't be another excuse to marginalize women. But I think it is, in all honesty.<br />
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I'm still navigating the spaces of new motherhood along with what used to be my prior life. I am learning, I am making mistakes but I am also carving my own place with my baby. Not just for us but for women everywhere. I hope to be an example of what is possible. Motherhood is well known for its sacrifices, but not as much for its possibilities. I hope to focus on the possibilities and am going to bring Zakir along for the ride. Because what could more powerful than for my boy to see a woman rocking in the public and activist sphere? I can think of no better experience to leave him with and I hope that one day he can appreciate it. I hope one day all of us can appreciate it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s.quickmeme.com/img/c4/c4d182cbaeb42174f6049755b9138e0b26d42b14668af930619938840f59b84b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://s.quickmeme.com/img/c4/c4d182cbaeb42174f6049755b9138e0b26d42b14668af930619938840f59b84b.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Respect, we deserve it!</td></tr>
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S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-7325713095216055852015-06-17T09:19:00.004-07:002015-06-17T21:16:51.088-07:00Mother Knows Best?Motherhood is a complex experience. This is something I've almost never heard anyone say.<br />
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Usually all I hear is exaltations about the lack of sleep and how "it's the most incredible experience ever and enjoy every minute"<br />
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It really isn't that simple...at all!<br />
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I haven't posted as much on this blog about the whole mommy experience, because I was too busy posting on another blog that is very aptly titled <a href="http://lostmomsaprimer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">"Lost Moms: A Primer on Knowing Nothing"</a> so you can check out my hysterical ruminations there. Basically I feel like an animal in a cave for the last three months, going through a massive transformation. Like a werewolf, or a butterfly. Okay, let's go with butterfly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/migration_catalog/article5175725.ece/alternates/w620/werewolf-del-toro.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.independent.co.uk/migration_catalog/article5175725.ece/alternates/w620/werewolf-del-toro.jpeg" height="218" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">though this is probably more accurate</td></tr>
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It's been almost 3 months since my little Zakir came barrelrolling out of me. I didn't expect to have a kid, I actually wasn't even sure if I ever seriously wanted a kid. So much responsibility! Gaining lots of weight! Making sure I don't irrevocably screw up another living being! But I have a theory that most kids come unplanned and I joined that club two days before I left California to move back home to the East Coast...via a cross country road trip nonetheless.<br />
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So, what is motherhood like? It's a question I am asked frequently, and I honestly am not sure how to answer it. I COULD answer it by saying "great! awesome! I am SO in LOVE! It's so amazing that I have to punch myself in the face repeatedly to remind myself I'm not dreaming" etc etc<br />
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<a href="http://www.airbornegamer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/oh-my-gosh-best-thing-ever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.airbornegamer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/oh-my-gosh-best-thing-ever.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well its kinda those things, kinda not. Ask me how I feel when I am holding a screaming baby that refuses to be put down. Or when I can't go network or events as much as I used to. Or when I look at the 20 pounds I've gained and none of my work clothes fit. These are times when it definitely doesn't seem as awesome.<br />
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I love Zakir, but its a crazy kind of love. As in "I know why parents are actually crazy" kind of love. I love him so much that even the thought of him for some reason not being on the planet anymore makes me feel like I would lose my mind. I can't imagine people losing their children, whether as babies or adults, losing a child seems unbearable and so far I've been lucky to not know what that is like. I've been lucky to not even know what having a really sick child is like. I have friends who have had to hold their babies hands in NICU, with heart problems and babies that were premature. I have friends that have lost babies, my mother lost two of my brothers before I was born. Even thinking of her pain completely blows my mind now.<br />
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Okay that's morbid, I know. Like I said, it's complicated. Sometimes it's super frustrating and guilt-inducing. As in me feeling terrible because I yelled at my insurance company in front of him, or dropped an F-bomb when I stubbed my toe (I'm working on it, I promise!). I worry about not playing with him enough or feeling guilty that sometimes I feel so bored and/or overwhelmed that I kick myself for not being smarter about family planning.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.churchmilitant.com/images/uploads/news_feature/pill2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.churchmilitant.com/images/uploads/news_feature/pill2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">birth control was invented for a reason, people</td></tr>
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Worse, I hope I'm not a terrible mom. I have no idea what I am, the kid is only 2.5 months old.<br />
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I sound neurotic, I know. No apologies, this is me being me. This is the hardest thing I've ever done.<br />
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But it's also amazing. He smiles at me in the most perfect way. He's hilarious and quirky, I mean can babies even be quirky? Well he's mine so maybe that's just a given. He also takes incredible selfies! And when I catch a glimpse in my mind of our future together, as my son, as part of my family with Roberto, I get so so giddy with happiness. Having a baby has also brought our families even closer together. Marriage did that for sure, but a child brought in a whole new dimension to the relationships both myself and my husband had with our parents. I have never been so grateful for my mother, and his mother, who flew all the way from California to help me with Zakir. I learned so much from their motherly wisdom. I swear they were the ones that kept me sane as I plunged headfirst into motherhood.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhmzLo6pTjlUBq9Vg3Qg2hIgzpsbuDCWHyMpO7WIJGSkbDTuUUIrkwaoFpIHEVOTxIF5CFw6SqGIpyMOVp9gQh4zogxHEX0ojoAqBlxZYjTe0NdIZ_hJBn07fBz4rCdKUDvqOys7CHZxF/s1600/10426146_10105221821345049_7872372754334608266_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhmzLo6pTjlUBq9Vg3Qg2hIgzpsbuDCWHyMpO7WIJGSkbDTuUUIrkwaoFpIHEVOTxIF5CFw6SqGIpyMOVp9gQh4zogxHEX0ojoAqBlxZYjTe0NdIZ_hJBn07fBz4rCdKUDvqOys7CHZxF/s320/10426146_10105221821345049_7872372754334608266_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, he takes awesome selfies</td></tr>
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I have been so grateful to have friends who are moms come out of the woodwork to send me gifts, to check in with me, give me advice and give me their things they aren't using for free. It's been incredible, truly. My friends have made it so even up till now I have not had to buy a single diaper, wet wipe, or outfit. And let me tell you babies poop so much it's astounding, and I am still covered because of the generosity of my friends.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_zA64pZfj3_MvVeFbRjltEQ_EXFUyDSWlus3mOx8KgKQHx1-KwaxKRrW8r0J83EkvHZC0sNerfdDKBhyVa159M9YhfDNp__9MxZT511ScgnWKfSbKq5rG-OijQF-5m7jocxaMLJvWJjr/s1600/11043279_10104894865746689_8159417027365880251_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_zA64pZfj3_MvVeFbRjltEQ_EXFUyDSWlus3mOx8KgKQHx1-KwaxKRrW8r0J83EkvHZC0sNerfdDKBhyVa159M9YhfDNp__9MxZT511ScgnWKfSbKq5rG-OijQF-5m7jocxaMLJvWJjr/s320/11043279_10104894865746689_8159417027365880251_n.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ya'll are incredible!</td></tr>
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So it's awesome, it's scary, it's frustrating, sometimes it's straight up terrible. But somehow all of humanity has survived by keeping infants alive so I'm pretty sure I can do this. <br />
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It gives me hope that Zakir and I will be alright. Weird and neurotic, but alright :-) Maybe even better than alright, maybe we will be this super duper mom and son team that kicks butt and takes names. He can be the salt to my pepper, the peanut butter to my jelly, the kanye to my kanye...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOSBJejJ2lmch7Qj6UHhWl-s8F6t_w9DsmZ5fTs7331Ix3_U5EXMi9mVJsgxu98RsbuAVTKIjRFWfDy8CC_r2eYue75gmTNCwYv1Zb5KuAZ-od0w-CnyZykIpvPq-ZGcJrqhwHaoatRkt/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-06-17+at+12.08.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOSBJejJ2lmch7Qj6UHhWl-s8F6t_w9DsmZ5fTs7331Ix3_U5EXMi9mVJsgxu98RsbuAVTKIjRFWfDy8CC_r2eYue75gmTNCwYv1Zb5KuAZ-od0w-CnyZykIpvPq-ZGcJrqhwHaoatRkt/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-06-17+at+12.08.38+PM.png" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">that's deep</td></tr>
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or just the Zakir to my Nadia, I think that will be the best combination of all.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEiDPi_9RFbJEZGVjJ3tW8Odn-T6rvKmM-XkWmZYb-Fdnq-nEGujhkNIWcb-Vv4RzO_a5NI1XNj3Vh1N0-PRvKxchhyphenhyphenHhhB9OeOcpKaVMw4HutezrLb_Tiv_JFLRWr-viYnx5WHei2uVNP/s1600/11401340_10105242309865889_7358823707277586541_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEiDPi_9RFbJEZGVjJ3tW8Odn-T6rvKmM-XkWmZYb-Fdnq-nEGujhkNIWcb-Vv4RzO_a5NI1XNj3Vh1N0-PRvKxchhyphenhyphenHhhB9OeOcpKaVMw4HutezrLb_Tiv_JFLRWr-viYnx5WHei2uVNP/s320/11401340_10105242309865889_7358823707277586541_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">two weirdo peas in a pod!</td></tr>
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-44201777025311131622015-02-17T08:55:00.000-08:002015-02-17T09:12:48.638-08:00Activism, a Love Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last Thursday, I was lucky enough to host a Young People and Civic Engagement Talk for the <a href="http://www.lwvfairlawn.org/" target="_blank">League of Women Voters- Fairlawn</a>. I plastered the event all over my social media (as I tend to do) and was absolutely thrilled and humbled to see a packed room of people of all ages who trekked out on a cold, wintery February night to attend. The people in the room consisted of League members, high school students and friends of mine, both new and old, some of whom I've known for almost 10 years. It was actually really gratifying to see people who I've met more recently through networks such as the <a href="http://www.newleaderscouncil.org/new_leaders_council_new_jersey" target="_blank">New Leaders Council- NJ </a>come out and support. I've only moved back to my homestate of NJ 5 months ago so it's just awesome to already have connected to people already!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykZb04a-3Z8T20Xr0QZAJK-U2_xLY7oI-YnL0yed-khx5dy7ezT-QxtV8UNkomruUlIyT_xTH3AMXK07D3UBvnaWY_dqUnFMeTHXMQFSniWjfMA3gTZoc-C1eJi9m8HI03W_pwJia-mEh/s1600/10920941_10104818736709889_1307963540455426102_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykZb04a-3Z8T20Xr0QZAJK-U2_xLY7oI-YnL0yed-khx5dy7ezT-QxtV8UNkomruUlIyT_xTH3AMXK07D3UBvnaWY_dqUnFMeTHXMQFSniWjfMA3gTZoc-C1eJi9m8HI03W_pwJia-mEh/s1600/10920941_10104818736709889_1307963540455426102_n.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yaay, FRAAAANDS!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a lively discussion, tons of opinions and questions and a lot of open dialogue, which I really appreciated. The night was a success and I thought that people got something out of it. But honestly, more than anyone in the room, I think the event meant the most to me. It was a bit of a "NJ debut" for me, a homecoming. After 5 years of being super active and involved in the Bay Area on a range of issues like immigrant and refugee rights, Muslim civil rights activism, political involvements and youth organizing I kept wondering what my activism activities would look like here, in a new state, starting a new life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbiWo_So5940XjYFJAoiW1eeagQ-i5kSYFQ27zosAbpB4sA_0it4MNqtdrmsZM34Tb1I7_3uxN7g9KrES1ynwqRfcPdWfKWOsRjK1oxG4C2_neLrvDOxhrcbU_S9ypS7IS8PnBnju4zp2/s1600/10151765_10104823912821919_2527925915640899597_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbiWo_So5940XjYFJAoiW1eeagQ-i5kSYFQ27zosAbpB4sA_0it4MNqtdrmsZM34Tb1I7_3uxN7g9KrES1ynwqRfcPdWfKWOsRjK1oxG4C2_neLrvDOxhrcbU_S9ypS7IS8PnBnju4zp2/s1600/10151765_10104823912821919_2527925915640899597_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woohoo, getting my discussion on, all while having hot flashes, leg pain and secretly taking my shoes off under the table during the middle of the conversation. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Judging by last week, it's going great so far. And did I mention that I was over 8 months pregnant when I led the discussion? That's another thing, moving across the country and re-establishing yourself WHILE pregnant is a totally new aspect of a journey I certainly didn't expect. Yet in a strange way, being pregnant has only fueled my need to be active and involved. I know I may have to take it easy (or so I'm told) when my bundle of joy gets here but I feel a sense of duty to instill a deep sense of service in my child. It's not as much of an expectation (since kids seem to want to rebel so chances are if I push the progressive activism front too hard he might just turn into a future <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2015/01/19/politics/jindal-no-go-zones-london/" target="_blank">Bobby Jindal</a>) as it is a deep wish I have for any child I raise to have a positive impact on the world around them and feel a sense of investment and duty to their community. I can't imagine a more important "teaching tool" than for me to set that example myself.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcKg7IgCg7dwFlAyW7PuIp4JcTfWSyZ-P0PnK3dmZvxvHwI1-I7oh9_hHhyphenhyphenIKzyd_T3fS9-hU4LWosUEdg3dWQU3zYR2lg5w73iH_dnwN45TCZKpfFZ83ltXnr5zyVTSz4LgoCFtAAKyb/s1600/10929004_10152830273208192_3904664554548793723_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcKg7IgCg7dwFlAyW7PuIp4JcTfWSyZ-P0PnK3dmZvxvHwI1-I7oh9_hHhyphenhyphenIKzyd_T3fS9-hU4LWosUEdg3dWQU3zYR2lg5w73iH_dnwN45TCZKpfFZ83ltXnr5zyVTSz4LgoCFtAAKyb/s1600/10929004_10152830273208192_3904664554548793723_n.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NAPAWF being all excited together in sunny San Diego</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last Thursday's presentation was my second presentation in two months on civic engagement. I also led a session at <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF's (National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum)</a> Power Up Summit. As many people know, I serve on the National Governing Board of NAPAWF so the summit is a great event I always look forward to so that I can connect with incredible API women from all of the country who are dedicated to social justice. It was a great weekend, though getting there while pregnant was a total nightmare that left me sore and almost unable to properly move for 2 days (next time I'm knocked up, I'll be sure not to take 4 modes of public transportation to get to the airport while dragging along my heavy luggage). Even with the pregnancy aches and pains, I took tremendous pride in showing up and being able to contribute to something I am very passionate about; sharing civic education and ideas with women.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdVvM_TwQdrsaSLwePaBYDtoZa-wrOoU-ssUaK-xPn37yTJ-tSsSRaLP1g0ypw3dHoIfX6PajWeBnc0FecrMDVFoWpDhOC5y1izttfUWja3MKoZU-rriqMVcn6tAcGpsFz7D1mTTSlFuk/s1600/10941024_10104740844266969_179428078202204680_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdVvM_TwQdrsaSLwePaBYDtoZa-wrOoU-ssUaK-xPn37yTJ-tSsSRaLP1g0ypw3dHoIfX6PajWeBnc0FecrMDVFoWpDhOC5y1izttfUWja3MKoZU-rriqMVcn6tAcGpsFz7D1mTTSlFuk/s1600/10941024_10104740844266969_179428078202204680_n.jpg" height="320" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't stop, won't stop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Outside of those two presentations, my fetus has joined me talking about <a href="http://live.huffingtonpost.com/r/segment/black-brown-vote-ferguson-midterm-elections/54330827fe34443b5f000697" target="_blank">voting and race on HuffPost Live,</a> marched for 6 hours in the massive Climate March in NYC, attended a bunch of political trainings, and generally came along for the ride as I hit the ground running and haven't stopped, nausea and constant bathroom breaks be damned.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZLVto4p1jyP1XW7wzHUYwGbGlqYiwEG2Ypw9K_dOX5vzsAyKDB4YOJyT3_rQmWBeanR1H6byK8C6f6JoMX6wYPeeVoZkKt94vIuCJQN8Mxohm85uHcvRBZYoC10ReoN9iGUG1HZ2FGiP/s1600/10628395_10152728872560135_7370060226898516884_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZLVto4p1jyP1XW7wzHUYwGbGlqYiwEG2Ypw9K_dOX5vzsAyKDB4YOJyT3_rQmWBeanR1H6byK8C6f6JoMX6wYPeeVoZkKt94vIuCJQN8Mxohm85uHcvRBZYoC10ReoN9iGUG1HZ2FGiP/s1600/10628395_10152728872560135_7370060226898516884_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climate Marchin' in utero</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Because activism for me is not an compartmentalized slice
of my life, it IS my life. It's woven through everything, it's the paid
work I do from my<a href="http://youtu.be/DG075K_QE-Q" target="_blank"> current job where I organize college students around the country around voting and issues activism</a> for the <a href="http://andrewgoodman.org/" target="_blank">Andrew Goodman Foundation</a> and it's what I do on my off time on weekends when I attend Ready to Run women's political trainings. I also have a history of using vacation days to go to social justice conference outside of work. I literally have never used a vacation day for an actual vacation.<br />
<br />
An acquaintance asked me what I do for fun outside of all of this, and my answer was basically "I guess activism?". Not that activism is fun, we are addressing major issues here and so much of it is painful, tiring and often overwhelming.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30HxO3_ISX1-CO4XyDhH4qm5cLCv1o4gIBefOcuxie3r44r4nZ7b0o9G7JJnJHTuQroEo8KWYGK0_Fw-1SgRsAXil07ObedOnY5LbDa0wFZsTpqZGiOpt6WwW_Ve7oVjRd2t7gCzgJWo9/s1600/got+activism.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30HxO3_ISX1-CO4XyDhH4qm5cLCv1o4gIBefOcuxie3r44r4nZ7b0o9G7JJnJHTuQroEo8KWYGK0_Fw-1SgRsAXil07ObedOnY5LbDa0wFZsTpqZGiOpt6WwW_Ve7oVjRd2t7gCzgJWo9/s1600/got+activism.PNG" height="192" width="320" /> </a></div>
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I guess it's not "fun" for me as much as it is my passion and my love. I get tired, but I don't feel it because it feeds me and gives me a sense of purpose every waking moment. Maybe it's selfish because it gives me purpose? Frankly I don't know what else to do, it is is such an integral part of me and always has been even from when I was a child going around picking up litter in my neighborhood and spending hours in the library reading about the holocaust and other human rights tragedies.<br />
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From spending every night forwarding progressive jobs to an activist listserve I started (NADIA'S LIST ya'll! ask me about it!) to spending my free time catching up on articles about issues, statistics and blog posts, maybe all this points to the fact that maybe I have no life. Or maybe I have a full life?<br />
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Because I love it and I want it this way?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgeYd_zVuPeg-4WsqANeZBngl8k3oNIVAOXtu3pYW_4dCRCJls8QTdZRyjXQK3A1iD02dsPPawg8QXhKKny5dRjrzYyu9iQPDabcxlBVdyZs8XBQQ_vhqsA8LTR_-ciiUIM-f-NQA-kw7/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgeYd_zVuPeg-4WsqANeZBngl8k3oNIVAOXtu3pYW_4dCRCJls8QTdZRyjXQK3A1iD02dsPPawg8QXhKKny5dRjrzYyu9iQPDabcxlBVdyZs8XBQQ_vhqsA8LTR_-ciiUIM-f-NQA-kw7/s1600/index.jpg" /></a></div>
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As I await the birth of my child, who is only about 6 weeks away, I will have to perhaps see, reconstruct and change up what all of this will mean as I embark on my motherhood journey. A journey where another person is supposed to come first, where I will be exhausted, emotionally and physically, where I won't have all the time to do what I want as just Nadia, the non-mom. <br />
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Or maybe motherhood will open a new chapter in my Activism Love Story, one where my children will join me to create a fuller, richer and more powerful experience for us all.<br />
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In the meanwhile, I'm still gonna to hope my kid doesn't become Bobby Jindal. Please son, no.<br />
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-14637464021259782152015-01-01T13:17:00.002-08:002015-01-02T11:32:01.408-08:00A Year of Transition, A Year of Unknowns2014 was so chock full of major transitions, both emotionally, physically and spatially that I feel completely stumped when it comes to reflecting on anything.<br />
<br />
The biggest physical transition of course was my cross country move, which would be a major event for anyone. After living for 5 years on the West Coast, it took so much work to look for and secure a job in the East Coast, then physically move everything back here without even having a real apartment to land at (almost all of my stuff is still in storage). It was a bit of an unusual move because my husband, Roberto and I drove across the entire country to move my things in August, but he returned to our apartment back in Oakland, CA and was set to join me in January. But then came an unexpected monkey wrench in the form of a pregnancy (although an adorable monkey wrench I'm sure). Roberto scrambled to finish up his work with Habitat for Humanity in San Francisco until he joined me at the end of November, driving cross country again, this time with the rest of our things and two cats in tow.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEXPSQ7MIdVXPI7_D6-zG8sq3-ASd6QkQlp70PKR_pHww-v70EMAfbfxXkgz7fYtfxFxYFNUhDGw0DsojMACCP12RMyw1PtZn2n5KIBFCWKa6L1lozSH4wu77JjiiVv2Li4j4BZzYHY-b/s1600/10730991_10104391354452359_3266287397231428230_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEXPSQ7MIdVXPI7_D6-zG8sq3-ASd6QkQlp70PKR_pHww-v70EMAfbfxXkgz7fYtfxFxYFNUhDGw0DsojMACCP12RMyw1PtZn2n5KIBFCWKa6L1lozSH4wu77JjiiVv2Li4j4BZzYHY-b/s1600/10730991_10104391354452359_3266287397231428230_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roberto on the road...with cats</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij63yU_MbjQfV1TMr9pxQ62C0i9bx5vifbWVyykbqdBZBr-PecvTMopft-8zzKRAsi4V1UBU6Ynub7FSB1J-7FzGqbwwrJDBbNAXtviLbRQpBS4Budmnuy9A1qpoo3388hmNy8bYF7BsQ5/s1600/1795656_10104391683323299_7779964489492969864_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij63yU_MbjQfV1TMr9pxQ62C0i9bx5vifbWVyykbqdBZBr-PecvTMopft-8zzKRAsi4V1UBU6Ynub7FSB1J-7FzGqbwwrJDBbNAXtviLbRQpBS4Budmnuy9A1qpoo3388hmNy8bYF7BsQ5/s1600/1795656_10104391683323299_7779964489492969864_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever walked cats across the Great Plains? Never underestimate the insanity of cat people</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was beyond wonderful to finally have him back. My first few months back home were completely hectic and stressful to say the least. Though I was thrilled to be back home, I still didn't have an apartment so I lived with Roberto's family in upstate NY. Though it was great to be around them, they lived an hour away from my new job. Starting a new job, even a wonderful new job can be stressful, but add a two hour daily driving commute to that while going through serious morning sickness that lasted throughout the day made for fun times (heavy sarcasm). On top of that my health insurance was lagging, so for my first pregnancy I was uninsured for a month and a half and I was completely freaking out. I was alone and freaking out. I gained so much sympathy for women who go through pregnancy with no support or resources. Being uninsured for that short amount of time worried me so much, I can't imagine women who went through most if not all of their pregnancies without insurance or affordable access to healthcare. <br />
<br />
Luckily, I was able to find an apartment in North Jersey a month into moving in, which made the commute more bearable and gave Roberto a place to land once he got here with our cats. We completely drained our savings to move back (moving is so expensive) so literally coming here is a brand new start from the ground up.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9I_PynUQOplbKzFtjhnwd7nuzL56l3jePlYmtGebHvDKGEmfGqljRIDXQsIFr1kxhaV5vzZKHosR9OQXNXUrAsZpyIEvvuX5VGLK5RmRWbQCyYRDmDpsY90nQJ7k8KlHJcAU6vsb25bvg/s1600/i-019a19dc7cdb5592d6984378c80f360c-broke-Mr.-Monopoly-guy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9I_PynUQOplbKzFtjhnwd7nuzL56l3jePlYmtGebHvDKGEmfGqljRIDXQsIFr1kxhaV5vzZKHosR9OQXNXUrAsZpyIEvvuX5VGLK5RmRWbQCyYRDmDpsY90nQJ7k8KlHJcAU6vsb25bvg/s1600/i-019a19dc7cdb5592d6984378c80f360c-broke-Mr.-Monopoly-guy.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very broke start, but I guess it builds character?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now that it is 2015, there are still so many unknowns. I am about 6 months pregnant now and all the uncertainties and insecurities, let alone complete inexperience of giving birth is overwhelming at times. We have another upcoming move due to our apartment being too small for a growing family, and am still waiting on Roberto hopefully getting a new job to give us more economic stability (we have been living off one income since October). This is a story that so many have gone through as a young couple, broke, pregnant and starting anew. I am grateful to be sharing it with a wonderful partner and also with friends who have been there for me during the process.<br />
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There is also the question of where my career and future goals will go. A work/life balance with a new baby is obviously challenging. I guess that will be a bridge I will have to cross when I get there!<br />
<br />
And there are my many civic and political involvements. 2014 saw me disengage from my activism in the Bay Area due to my move. I went from being super involved with the Democratic Party, API movements, and a lot of community work to leaving most of it behind. Living month by month in a temporary location doesn't really give me the time to engage with the communities I usually work with. I know this is all part of the transition process. I am still finding my footing, and even though this is my home, I have been gone for 5 years, so I need to work my way back to the place of local activism by learning and being humble.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkZyhnrrZ17J8WD_6OZMqBTmngpPcC9ndfP1KgUTpczE6xZqUvwoqIFFJmZ1KXixIA0OO6v_r-xfdld0tg_LxMPsNgtOmKm2Czbj-NU1nFNVkQ2bwp4_YbxXH4MjPQ-Lqz0OMiFkUaukj/s1600/you-can-do-it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkZyhnrrZ17J8WD_6OZMqBTmngpPcC9ndfP1KgUTpczE6xZqUvwoqIFFJmZ1KXixIA0OO6v_r-xfdld0tg_LxMPsNgtOmKm2Czbj-NU1nFNVkQ2bwp4_YbxXH4MjPQ-Lqz0OMiFkUaukj/s1600/you-can-do-it.jpg" height="287" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, yes I can?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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So on this first day of 2015 I have a lot of hope and a lot of uncertainty. I am very excited to meet my child in 2015, what a monumental thing to look forward to! I have no idea what kind of mother I will be, which town Roberto and I will settle down in and where my new life will lead me regarding my continued commitment to activism, but I guess only time will tell.<br />
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So Happy New Years, good luck exploring the infinite abyss, a fitting quote from Garden State, and yes I used it coz it's a Jersey movie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBL2fQxnq-GmV3BhfkoFMF_GjdyLHz7zbtyUoXS-vxHrptaJGhyphenhyphentdNY5wFGX6B-FBUTIi29LgHbvls2hbM3H_t1sBdZ1bWDAijuPrQQgATXRx-zhXahEOZXYmD2o7lFC0gI1jOGLED73M/s1600/1610855_10104621536864959_8425280806319227349_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBL2fQxnq-GmV3BhfkoFMF_GjdyLHz7zbtyUoXS-vxHrptaJGhyphenhyphentdNY5wFGX6B-FBUTIi29LgHbvls2hbM3H_t1sBdZ1bWDAijuPrQQgATXRx-zhXahEOZXYmD2o7lFC0gI1jOGLED73M/s1600/1610855_10104621536864959_8425280806319227349_n.jpg" height="320" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy New Year! Into the infinite abyss we go!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-79821432727672494812014-10-20T22:09:00.000-07:002014-10-21T06:23:16.744-07:00The Long Journey Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Jersey bound! Who drives a Prius dragging a trailer behind it almost 3000 miles? These weirdos right here</td></tr>
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I moved back to the East Coast, so you probably thought that this blog was over, huh? Especially since I mostly started it 5 (!) years ago to detail my new adventures on the West Coast. Well since I can't shut up that notion is out the window, I haven't even come close to running out of things to say!<br />
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I left the Bay Area to move back to New Jersey on August 18, 2014. I moved to the Bay Area on August 16, 2009. So I was there for almost <i>EXACTLY </i>5 years. Around the time I was leaving I was going to write this huge blog post reflecting on my time in the Bay and all of the crazy, insane things I went through, and what it all meant....but then I got tired.<br />
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Because I was pregnant. <br />
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Yes, two days before Roberto and I left on our road trip to drive cross country back home I found out. It was nuts, it was unexpected, but seriously, knowing me, what else could you expect?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You would expect a random Naderto baby, that's what</td></tr>
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I could go into what the last five years in a brand new land, far away from all of my friends and family meant. Even now, after living back in the East Coast for almost two months, I still feel like I'm barely unpacking all that I've experienced. But then I realize something, I don't need to share all that right now BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS ABOUT. Is it a chronicle of my struggles, my musings, my experiences outlining all of the cool stuff I did and the confusing ideas I had as to where my path would lead. So if you want to know what the last 5 years were like, you have <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-11-17T00:22:00-08:00&max-results=7&start=41&by-date=false" target="_blank">pages of blog posts</a> to enjoy :-)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DOOO IT!!!</td></tr>
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The gist of it is this though, my five years in California basically beat the adulthood into me. Which is not what most people would imagine when they think of California. Hey, it's the Golden state, full of sunshine and happy chill people that hang out at beaches, eat organically and do yoga all day. Okay some of that is actually true, but I moved to California for one person, and that person was Roberto. I had no other people, no community, no friends! He was it! On top of that I got stuck in the economic downturn and ended up jobless for a year. A whole torturous yet wonderful year where I think I gave myself multiple ulcers while desperately trying to discover my true passions and direction.<br />
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And direction came slowly, but it came from all over the place. I became heavily involved in local California politics, then state and national politics. I was elected to be a <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/10/to-dnc-and-back.html" target="_blank">delegate to the Democratic National Convention</a>, I helped co-found the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BlackYoungDemsEB?ref=br_tf" target="_blank">Black Young Democrats of the East Bay</a> (which to this day is one of the things I have been involved with that I am the most proud of). I served on a gazillion boards, I fought for <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/08/whos-afraid-of-big-bad-muslim.html" target="_blank">American Muslim Civil Rights</a>, I organized with South Asian groups, I worked with and taught refugee communities, I ran an inner city program for black and brown youth, I blogged like crazy, I read and wrote poems about and with <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/03/creative-process.html" target="_blank">South Asian women on stage</a> in San Francisco. I joined fellowships. I was appointed to a State Assembly Women's committee, and all this random craziness led to me being recognized on a <a href="http://magazine.good.is/projects/the100/profiles/nadia-hussain" target="_blank">GOOD 100 list</a> of activists. I made friends, a whole gang of them. I have proof that they exist, they came out en mass for my West Coast wedding. I made a new West Coast mom and West Coast sister. I gained an entire family where I worked, the first time that's ever happened at a job for me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some more family I've adopted along the way</td></tr>
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I also had my first major mental and emotional melt down on the West Coast. It never got that bad until I was in California, alone, jobless, friendless and just absolutely, completely and utterly lost and broke...oh and did I mention how broke I was?<br />
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But I survived you California! I did! And you made me strong as hell. Now I am incubating a bun of awesomeness, I have a husband and Prius with over 130,000 miles on it, and two of the most amazing cats in the world to show for my time. I have friends I will never forget or stop loving because of it.<br />
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And now I am back home, a somewhat different person, a strangely adult person. Perhaps more worldly, and probably bit crazier than before, but either way, I am irrevocably changed. <br />
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This past weekend, I spent time with a family who adopted me and who I lived with for two years straight after college and before moving to the Bay Area. I had dinner at a home I first visited eight years ago. As I pulled into the driveway of this home I couldn't help but reflect on the 22 year old that showed up to that home eight years ago. That person was so full of fear and confusion as to what the future held. I had been single for almost three years at that point and saw any semblance of a romantic relationship as a traumatic lesson in futility. I came to that home in someone else's Prius. I didn't have a car, an apartment, or a job. I was a lost leaf floating haplessly in the wind. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My East Coast family</td></tr>
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Contrast that to this Sunday. Now I was driving up in my <i>own</i> car, married and expecting, with a full time job, my own apartment and though I am still wracked with uncertainty, I have taken it as a fact of life. None of us really know where we are going, and maybe, just maybe I have started to make peace with that.<br />
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Home has been a very winding road back, but the person who showed up to this home eight years later would not have been this person today without my five years in California. You've left a mark, West Coast, home may be where the heart is, but I realize that my heart is actually scattered, amongst people I love all across the country. And maybe I wouldn't have it any other way.<br />
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-69244492236867980712014-07-08T02:30:00.000-07:002014-07-09T00:47:28.436-07:00Nadia 3.0Often, younger people speak about how 'old' they feel, sites like <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/things-that-will-make-you-feel-really-old" target="_blank">Buzzfeed post multiple nostalgia lists </a>where Generation X/Yer's wax poetic about how ancient we are.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4YBDknCUKo8B63zhXQJyk5yv0HMqF6WGpQTwvBNgLV_BnS1rPjW_TY6sJjdSPyHJGsr40n2Ugfbx3GKkYQpbWpTj7SvD0lc7rUIfgx9RRnWLeiICS-exZcXjxzN6UODQTb_r8aQnW3ZS/s1600/enhanced-buzz-2643-1368482494-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4YBDknCUKo8B63zhXQJyk5yv0HMqF6WGpQTwvBNgLV_BnS1rPjW_TY6sJjdSPyHJGsr40n2Ugfbx3GKkYQpbWpTj7SvD0lc7rUIfgx9RRnWLeiICS-exZcXjxzN6UODQTb_r8aQnW3ZS/s1600/enhanced-buzz-2643-1368482494-3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SRSLY THO GUYS, can you believe BSB is this old now?? WE R SO ANCIENT</td></tr>
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There's a great quote that I read stating that "Growing old is a privilege denied to many".<br />
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I've lost enough amazing people in my life to realize that this sentiment is very true, so I will very much spare people complaints of how old I feel, since I'm not old...at all. That is until I hang out with teenagers and college students, because then I realize I just want to yell at them to turn down their music and get off my lawn. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get away from me with your YOLO</td></tr>
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What I will say is that I am happy my 20's are over...seriously, SO happy that it's over.<br />
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I feel like not enough people my age actually think that, most are pretty devastated that their 20's have come and gone. Perhaps because they held our college days, when people were young, sexy, wild and free? Maybe some people had hot love affairs, or just affairs, or traveled around the world, went to awesome concerts and partied their nights away?<br />
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I had an amazing college experience in my 20's, to this day it held some of my best experiences ever. I partied, not too hard, but yes had great social times.<br />
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But I'm going to keep it real, my 20's were HORRIBLE. If you asked me to define my 20's, I would say that that it was defined by trauma, uncertainty, insecurity, fear, heartbreak...and more trauma.<br />
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If I could go back in time and see my bright, shining, happy-go-lucky face as a 20 year old, I would grip myself by the shoulders and say "I am so sorry, but everything will go to hell, over and over again, and then it will go to hell again".<br />
And if my 20 year old self looked to me for comfort or advice to rely on during these trying times, I would just say:<br />
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Because that's all I could have done is braced myself! There was no wisdom or good advice that would have made any of it easier to handle. Seeing my family go through unbelievable fathoms of despair for YEARS as my mentally ill father was set up and sent to jail for a victimless crime, from when I was 21-27 off and on, to going through intense romantic heartache and confusion, to having no economic or job security and private loans that threatened to financially drown me forever; I have to say that making it to my 30's has been an ACCOMPLISHMENT. </div>
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In my 20's I tried to hold it together as our systems worked to decimate my family, I tried to hold it together when I got a call from my fathers prison because prison guards beat him so badly that he almost died. I also thought that I would go to medical school, then law school before realizing (after taking all the important exams) that the reason I could hardly pass any of them was because of a long term undiagnosed learning disorder...due to, you guessed it, severe emotional trauma.<br />
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I moved cross country at age 26 for love. I thought coming to California would be a glorious adventure full of sunny days, warm nights and fulfilled dreams. Instead what I got was a completely collapsed economy and a very ill suited job experience that drove me into unemployment with no benefits until I fought for, and won them back myself (with the help of an angel from a local union). What I also got was no friends, no jobs, and backed up loans...oh yea and a father that was put back into prison by a corrupt legal structure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my 20's</td></tr>
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It's nuts to think that a good chunk of my 20's was me hoping to not end up homeless and crazy. I wish that was an exaggeration. The past decade broke me, plain and simple. <br />
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But I made it, know why? Because of people, because of people who loved me fiercely and completely. People who believed in me even when I was literally and figuratively scrunched up into fetal position. People who let me live in their homes for free, people who paid for my therapy, friends who stayed up with me all night to hear the same complaints and fears over and over again without complaining...not even once.<br />
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Because of mentors and bosses who took a chance on me to hire me and give me the space to grow and explore my talents. Because of people who encouraged me when nothing I did seemed to go the right way. Because of a man who drove me crazy and who I drove crazy, but who decided that I was still the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItXNiB-BG7RkqdP3bdYT7CWp4T2tLM-dmHufJgc-eFih27FQbHjGfRIa-gLnZs44xzEKnXQGRBKTjKBtM3qwIvwpzJgVFtZ_Rsa_s9nGYZappdd7W-5ZfksCX4AaEHPmJiB4GCa6UbrDS/s1600/10398960_843108551629_1697983_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItXNiB-BG7RkqdP3bdYT7CWp4T2tLM-dmHufJgc-eFih27FQbHjGfRIa-gLnZs44xzEKnXQGRBKTjKBtM3qwIvwpzJgVFtZ_Rsa_s9nGYZappdd7W-5ZfksCX4AaEHPmJiB4GCa6UbrDS/s1600/10398960_843108551629_1697983_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somehow, it's worked out so far</td></tr>
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These are the reasons that I am 30 today, because of all of the love, care, devotion and time from countless people who each gave me gifts of hope that grew big enough to give me the strength, perseverance and fortitude that I hold today.<br />
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Sometimes you need people to tell you that you are good enough a zillion times when life is constantly beating you down and showing you the exact opposite of that. I was lucky to have those people. They helped me pick up the pieces until I become some half-healed
cobbled up proverbial Frankenstein's monster. In pieces but at least
somewhat put together. <br />
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As my 30's begin I have to say that I am relieved and excited. I have more confidence, I am in the best shape of my life (take that, hot 20's), and frankly I KNOW that hard times will be ahead, I know that life is full of landmines. But this time, no matter how bad the storm will be, I will have the support and love that will get me through. I will be faster, better, stronger, I will be Nadia 3.0. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtYUZkCY-n6otoqiyhkPLIdEArtMzHJlaTuQB_Syc9wSlEC4g06ZF6e89rw4M2UOpcGMc_NoGnNymn69fhxf_jPvimiVsQjDwUZhfmrPkDChxb1eY9SITWLGo-RlMDf6EtiaMiA5qmoCZ/s1600/pokemon-evolution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtYUZkCY-n6otoqiyhkPLIdEArtMzHJlaTuQB_Syc9wSlEC4g06ZF6e89rw4M2UOpcGMc_NoGnNymn69fhxf_jPvimiVsQjDwUZhfmrPkDChxb1eY9SITWLGo-RlMDf6EtiaMiA5qmoCZ/s1600/pokemon-evolution.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I plan to evolve like a Pokemon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And more than that, I hope to be the one that pays it forward and supports others, who makes the world a better place, who is there for people that need it the most. I have gotten way too much love and kindness to not do this. Me not helping others would be a huge injustice to those who helped me survive to be who I am today.<br />
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This will be an epic decade, whether there be storms or sunshine, this time I know that I will not be broken.<br />
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And if I am, I will just have to patch up again, I've been put back together before you know... <br />
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So to recap, my 20's were like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWK2rXwtSj2GNu2bBZLfVHXFLIX9DR6MQrDwchIzzGLV3kjO4u6yZ3dEJofr1A12CrWkGehMnttXwmjR8plSrQ7G_13h1s1FYKOuuTXgrGFIXIG40oJtZuNWS13zDEs-YJ82TxtYmMDkz/s1600/fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWK2rXwtSj2GNu2bBZLfVHXFLIX9DR6MQrDwchIzzGLV3kjO4u6yZ3dEJofr1A12CrWkGehMnttXwmjR8plSrQ7G_13h1s1FYKOuuTXgrGFIXIG40oJtZuNWS13zDEs-YJ82TxtYmMDkz/s1600/fall.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></div>
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And I hope to make my 30's like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglX0Nizgj_PHLfOJ7R2ajOR9X_LdlaNk-aPtWdxRPWb_Ly7MvnWu0Uj7ugTjolg9QFSpT_rqTR6iJiUXCIFxqy8cVlw7-9GOmgZiaUkKJFDt-JJtFxk2aJdJ22xbxMGvEa6lO8wN4sBcp/s1600/321461_10102274574870609_1531215339_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglX0Nizgj_PHLfOJ7R2ajOR9X_LdlaNk-aPtWdxRPWb_Ly7MvnWu0Uj7ugTjolg9QFSpT_rqTR6iJiUXCIFxqy8cVlw7-9GOmgZiaUkKJFDt-JJtFxk2aJdJ22xbxMGvEa6lO8wN4sBcp/s1600/321461_10102274574870609_1531215339_n.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></div>
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So bring it on.<br />
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-77898379527493914212014-04-25T02:44:00.002-07:002014-04-25T02:53:57.057-07:00The Journey So Far...So GoodI sometimes reflect on my postings over the last 2-3 years. I re-started writing on my blog when I became unemployed 3 years ago. Being stuck in California, a brand new place with no friends and hardly any acquaintances, failing miserably at the job that enabled me to move here and kerplunking my way out of ever EVEN applying to law school led to some serious confidence issues. I was so blue that I wasn't even blue, I was black, I had a black emo soul (complete with side bangs and crappy music). Everything sucked and I had no idea how to build myself up. This is something I chronicle somewhat often on this blog, I do it because frankly, that's what made this blog really happen. Actually its what made everything that is happening in my life now happen.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp9WiWS2yZvVTF3UHyljNfq5mDkhYissBnPOZqrIgmVCqZYfzn3e_bn7qA2pwPlsEQdNlzcF6FiKHavBPcZ09SSaTIhpGCgnnY9yFro3WuKB2Ku8er_4C_nKWh9jdJaq1w7HoMWhnOJgW/s1600/24004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp9WiWS2yZvVTF3UHyljNfq5mDkhYissBnPOZqrIgmVCqZYfzn3e_bn7qA2pwPlsEQdNlzcF6FiKHavBPcZ09SSaTIhpGCgnnY9yFro3WuKB2Ku8er_4C_nKWh9jdJaq1w7HoMWhnOJgW/s1600/24004.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My emo self can best be illustrated by Spongebob with a visually impairing haircut</td></tr>
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I actually had to a chance to reflect on this in front of a group of students just this week. This past Monday I was a guest lecturer for a Asian American Studies Class on South Asian Diaspora at UC Berkeley. I presented on South Asian activism and was invited to do so be a fellow activist and professor who found my contact through the emails I sent as part of ASATA (the Alliance of South Asians Taking Action). There was a moment when she had me fill out a honorarium form, in case I could get paid for the presentation as a guest, which made me reflect back on when I worked at UC Berkeley and was the admin person processing the honorarium forms. Now I was filling one out myself, waiting for someone else to process it. Funny how things circle back around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hBJKwUjAdexmiX_lZQ-0TGOOiXthpeKsUs6VBWbKEai_GZ0Y507bEeOvU-nR4bcNOnAxMoSwvh0doR-qQtNl0OCyRfnY_UtTnyVtwX1-5ctGJJaYvw-JelzhpMqsvab5_SgwN4oDCtPM/s1600/828957f706d091f3457171bfd7b2f00f9d9f5999c54e4e727611c2279776d832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hBJKwUjAdexmiX_lZQ-0TGOOiXthpeKsUs6VBWbKEai_GZ0Y507bEeOvU-nR4bcNOnAxMoSwvh0doR-qQtNl0OCyRfnY_UtTnyVtwX1-5ctGJJaYvw-JelzhpMqsvab5_SgwN4oDCtPM/s1600/828957f706d091f3457171bfd7b2f00f9d9f5999c54e4e727611c2279776d832.jpg" height="320" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, not really, but whatever</td></tr>
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In this class I was to talk about my own story, on the inspiration behind my activist, how I became an activist, my struggles and triumphs, and all the work I've done. I should have just given them this blog link and called it a day, but then I wouldn't have had the chance to blab on for 90 minutes straight. Hence the name of my blog would be moot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-e-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-frc1/t1.0-9/10271572_10103740271757299_848730799923474553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-e-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-frc1/t1.0-9/10271572_10103740271757299_848730799923474553_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here are the awesome college students who got to hear me talk, and talk and talk =D</td></tr>
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When I started to go over my activism, what it's done and what it has meant to me I realize that 90 minutes wasn't close to being enough time to go over it all. And just coz I can't stop talking ( well yea there's that) but also because I have done SO much. I am not saying that to brag. Actually it's a little scary, as I looked into the faces of these bright and shiny young people, I realized that they probably thought I was insane. I mean my activism has been all over the place. After I first became unemployed in 2010, my life was basically one huge journey of trying anything and everything my activist heart desired. Did I want to work on women's issues? How about the situation in Burma? What about Muslim Americans and civil rights? Or South Asian Women's poetry? Photojournalism? Blogging? Democratic Politics? Empowerment of the African Community? How about all of the above?!! No seriously, I did all of the above and more at the same time. That's a LOT, and frankly it's a bit nuts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ5qTTJFT-HDVZlVtdYPjZ577icyhg42gv_zbzjlF9tuXIrYiHMSA" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ5qTTJFT-HDVZlVtdYPjZ577icyhg42gv_zbzjlF9tuXIrYiHMSA" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good question Uncle Sam, good question...</td></tr>
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But isn't that what you're supposed to be like in your 20's? Experimental? I guess instead of experimenting with drugs, or people, I experimented with activism. I was like an activism mad scientist. It was my 'thing', but I didn't know what issue was MY issue in particular. So I figured I would try them out, sort of like the guess and check method from grade school. Now that law school was out of the question, it was a whole new beginning with tons of possibilities and opportunities and I took all of them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnSRLiLv8WlsPTdmRtaazPFJlHak7UbzQCvSUrMIBFe356kMVO3oGz0RsL0WRVxxHU3n3d6Epg2cBGA8wYNruh1SB2zYSLC8tUhgojL4kX-yST2Tn3C6ftmnlbdBF1BuCNvnjmrZEpM31/s1600/i+want+it+all.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnSRLiLv8WlsPTdmRtaazPFJlHak7UbzQCvSUrMIBFe356kMVO3oGz0RsL0WRVxxHU3n3d6Epg2cBGA8wYNruh1SB2zYSLC8tUhgojL4kX-yST2Tn3C6ftmnlbdBF1BuCNvnjmrZEpM31/s1600/i+want+it+all.png" height="301" width="320" /></a></div>
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I spoke to the students about my work with the young Democrats, about getting involved for the first time in <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/06/represent.html" target="_blank">local politics by helping on a Oakland city council campaign </a>and joining the board of the East Bay Young Democrats. I spoke about helping to <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/11/my-2012-election-journey.html" target="_blank">co-found the Black Young Democrats of the East Bay</a>, after naming and addressing the need for cultivating young black leadership in this area. I spoke about being a<a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/03/creative-process.html" target="_blank"> writer and performer for Yoni Ki Baat, the South Asian Vagina monologues for two years</a>. YKB as it is known has spread throughout the country, but I have been honored to share the stage with and befriended the inspiring women who started it all here in the Bay Area. I spoke about my API organizing, my <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/nadia-hussain" target="_blank">political blogging for Hyphen</a>, <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/10/to-dnc-and-back.html" target="_blank">my adventures at the DNC</a> and how I eventually was able to serve on the leadership of <a href="http://napawf./">NAPAWF.</a> All of that is documented on this blog. I think that's so special. It's an open journal for the world to read, and one that I look to as my journey continues.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ladyandtheblog.com/files/2013/07/237cd67f07b897d3f14fcc00df30116c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.ladyandtheblog.com/files/2013/07/237cd67f07b897d3f14fcc00df30116c.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no idea</td></tr>
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All of this activism was part of my crazy process, but this crazy process was recently recognized as I was selected as part of something called the<a href="http://magazine.good.is/projects/the100/profiles/nadia-hussain" target="_blank"> GOOD 100</a>. I had no idea what this was, but apparently its a quartlerly magazine that outlines people and projects that have done good throughout the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/t1.0-9/10003952_10103715195889539_4237229764446080634_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/t1.0-9/10003952_10103715195889539_4237229764446080634_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look Ma, I'm in a magazine!</td></tr>
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And I made their 100 people who are making a difference in the world for 2014. I was floored, i was shocked, they called me a big mouth. it was all very fitting. I have to admit, it is pretty cool to be chosen along with a supermodel, the daughter of a president and other kickass people from all over the world. I feel like I am a bit underwhelming compared to these people but hey, I've got to learn to own it (it meaning being awesome without apologizing which honestly, can be so hard to do!).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8cIZ_mskxPvQIpNqv1OsxhyZfhPMC4tx5dwcdYGB3oXZzDXdtk2ff1p_4b2qCmT7Qm5kBm7YZS4yoKdp2u_6PJOsvzagh47cvAhKwDG6AZOmJwfs-KN5ogipyKcrkgQ_lsOIs1juyrIIS/s1600/1094843_681762768534055_1987195840_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8cIZ_mskxPvQIpNqv1OsxhyZfhPMC4tx5dwcdYGB3oXZzDXdtk2ff1p_4b2qCmT7Qm5kBm7YZS4yoKdp2u_6PJOsvzagh47cvAhKwDG6AZOmJwfs-KN5ogipyKcrkgQ_lsOIs1juyrIIS/s1600/1094843_681762768534055_1987195840_n.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF</a> Power Up Summit! We rock!</td></tr>
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So the journey continues, the weeks before the <a href="http://magazine.good.is/projects/the100" target="_blank">GOOD 100</a> and my guest lecture saw me take part in my first <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF (National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum)'s</a> Power up! summit as a board member, where we got promptly snowed out in the crazy non stop blizzards that the East Coast had to offer this year. I also was honored to join in the <a href="http://www.newamericanleaders.org/" target="_blank">New American Leaders Projec</a>t training for immigrant leaders who want to be in leadership positions, especially those that want to run for office.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/v/t1.0-9/1779779_640668529301780_671645426_n.jpg?oh=819a6c28e1596e8114931f2a1b71cf08&oe=53DA91A4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/v/t1.0-9/1779779_640668529301780_671645426_n.jpg?oh=819a6c28e1596e8114931f2a1b71cf08&oe=53DA91A4" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay for being leaders, yay for being diverse yay for being diverse leaders!<a href="http://www.newamericanleaders.org/" target="_blank"> NALP'</a>s New Jersey training ya'll</td></tr>
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Does this mean I'll run for office one day? What did I just say about the guess and check method? I'm still guessing I suppose, we'll see if any of it finally checks out one day....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabBTvTmXwJeoFqQoYuv65tTvg0NXdDSdTA4AIcNBWMjc5mmJTvPUaVqAUCkAMWDi-FTXMpJMROITAsiVvgWkvftBtFVqTvWuKzugqfGMWgbKPUyYQtsrg5lOfFzvMxBPL6Pi-28S529o4/s1600/to_be_continued_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabBTvTmXwJeoFqQoYuv65tTvg0NXdDSdTA4AIcNBWMjc5mmJTvPUaVqAUCkAMWDi-FTXMpJMROITAsiVvgWkvftBtFVqTvWuKzugqfGMWgbKPUyYQtsrg5lOfFzvMxBPL6Pi-28S529o4/s1600/to_be_continued_1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-32927793835361771272014-02-24T11:21:00.000-08:002014-02-27T23:36:42.290-08:00Not Your Typical Wedding Love Letter <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMF0rHDnrh3DDtb1pIE6ETmmGZfZLzAJzVZZHcwNkPRRnl6VPvmlFRsHmJo0dG3bYaEdwFpVteofYx1A4BDU0qEFH71ycnDLGG5gMlDNpN5WzBzbrNkMRTBR5jIf4XGy7JqX7Ol6QrQgnM/s1600/1779284_10103531772651179_1168072650_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMF0rHDnrh3DDtb1pIE6ETmmGZfZLzAJzVZZHcwNkPRRnl6VPvmlFRsHmJo0dG3bYaEdwFpVteofYx1A4BDU0qEFH71ycnDLGG5gMlDNpN5WzBzbrNkMRTBR5jIf4XGy7JqX7Ol6QrQgnM/s1600/1779284_10103531772651179_1168072650_n.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marriage #2 to husband #1!</td></tr>
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Two weekends ago I got married for the second time to the same man, my dear Roberto. Honestly it was an amazing love story. Not just a love story between him and I, but a love story of me and the amazing people who joined us on that day.<br />
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This is a love letter to those people...<br />
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As I have grown older, I have found myself ruminating on love more and more. It is something I reflect upon quite frequently, love in its many forms, the way we love different people and different relationships and how love and memory can be so intertwined. Roberto and I were officially married last July in my hometown in Northeast Pennsylvania in Wilkes-Barre, PA. It was a very sudden wedding, I like to say that it was a shotgun wedding without the baby. My parents were so thrilled to find out that some guy was willing to marry their crazy daughter that they threw together a wedding less than two months after my engagement. They invited 100 of their neighbors (mostly other Bengali folk) and boom I was MARRIED.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9KDT7_Kyqldt7IX4GjCoVnPbvao0bNC3KNKovl_pYmT0yuR6WqGnsVS6L4oBqeOYO_yYfy3Mki-JzDbXWHP0LxJov_Gbf6gZllAo8FjA9pCDlkx4m08G1wPjoNmm4uB4jsR0ZGqgZvfZ/s1600/72627_10102810325656739_1510350538_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9KDT7_Kyqldt7IX4GjCoVnPbvao0bNC3KNKovl_pYmT0yuR6WqGnsVS6L4oBqeOYO_yYfy3Mki-JzDbXWHP0LxJov_Gbf6gZllAo8FjA9pCDlkx4m08G1wPjoNmm4uB4jsR0ZGqgZvfZ/s1600/72627_10102810325656739_1510350538_n.jpg" height="187" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it was cray-cray, I just wanted an excuse to use the word cray-cray</td></tr>
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It was a fun weekend, an absolutely insane one, but fun. The problem was, almost none of my friends were there. About 5 good friends of mine managed to attend, but most other people I loved weren't there to spend my special moment with me. I wanted to share my love with my friends, and for me that meant, another wedding, well...two to be exact.<br />
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This meant that we were going to have a West Coast Wedding celebration (and an East Coast one...eventually). In May, Roberto surprised the crap out of me in Alamo Park with an engagement where about 40-50 friends of ours came out of the woodwork to descend on me in a park in San Francisco to see Robert propose at the site of our first date weekend. I was shocked, I cried and wore red flannel (yup I was so surprised that my engagement pictures will forever be immortalized with me dressed as a scrub).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhaf9kdMP0ggToNjAmP53En8s2lUF6YkgKdQn5Ah_5nHrhf_lZbY-meKLIhekmO_fgo_qx8_hvXcc25QhFURT8OjtSd57LRvQ1oRW5thrpqn9SEo_TPc-tZjgD3jrRqjvpa4-Qhys2hZX/s1600/408523_10151675025282028_1475491641_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhaf9kdMP0ggToNjAmP53En8s2lUF6YkgKdQn5Ah_5nHrhf_lZbY-meKLIhekmO_fgo_qx8_hvXcc25QhFURT8OjtSd57LRvQ1oRW5thrpqn9SEo_TPc-tZjgD3jrRqjvpa4-Qhys2hZX/s1600/408523_10151675025282028_1475491641_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently, Roberto likes scrubs</td></tr>
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That was an amazing moment, and I wanted these friends to be part of our wedding celebration.<br />
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So lo and behold, two weeks ago we threw our West Coast Wedding Celebration. It was Naderto's wedding celebration, a horrible amalgam of our names clashed into one. We even hashtagged it (#NADERTO). This celebration was honestly one of the most beautiful, poignant and best memories I have ever made. Roberto built a beautiful alter with his bare hands (in the rain, I may add), and decorated it with beautiful red and yellow flowers. My mentor and West Coast mom, Mary and her equally awesome Dave graciously offered up their home for the event, even though Mary's eyes widened when I told her 150 people had RSVP'd. Countless friends offered to help set up, bring food and drinks and join me with so much excitement on this day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYKKWG2XkpGU2HhLMY9kYr0m3-D-8Khx9chhMlA6BF3-uPeEWcU1ANKgGvWRTnEmWAlVp7TSlcgzmI0C2ql9qN24QmqDvRebjRjWI8cvhegruIYNhod0gggULN0sm4qLxP00itdKDr7EA/s1600/1619172_10152258600922028_1306813854_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYKKWG2XkpGU2HhLMY9kYr0m3-D-8Khx9chhMlA6BF3-uPeEWcU1ANKgGvWRTnEmWAlVp7TSlcgzmI0C2ql9qN24QmqDvRebjRjWI8cvhegruIYNhod0gggULN0sm4qLxP00itdKDr7EA/s1600/1619172_10152258600922028_1306813854_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our alter, made by the groom</td></tr>
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And the day of the celebration, it rained. It was gray and windy, but almost everyone still showed up, yup, Mary was still stuck with about 150 people (sorry Mary!). We did a vows ceremony with our monsignor, Gabriel presiding over our words. Gabriel's wife, and my dear friend and twin, Maia, had basically wedding planned the entire event, we couldn't have celebrated our love without the love given to us by this amazing couple.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3C2kR5Img3k7Vzxm__UvgcGITrmVe_lfId3seVA0_cKaUZ5eMZHHbTPnWvuqE5xxzgTpYpd0SIySxbvacpBJrgauiRiVHFgeKGY11cXW5BcP3ZWBHW6V08lFNDAqduKf2WIJ6B6AkLe9H/s1600/1723941_10102846485936173_6597621_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3C2kR5Img3k7Vzxm__UvgcGITrmVe_lfId3seVA0_cKaUZ5eMZHHbTPnWvuqE5xxzgTpYpd0SIySxbvacpBJrgauiRiVHFgeKGY11cXW5BcP3ZWBHW6V08lFNDAqduKf2WIJ6B6AkLe9H/s1600/1723941_10102846485936173_6597621_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us with Gabe and Maia. Members of the Salvadoran wives club with our lucky husbands ;-)</td></tr>
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Everything from that day was possible due to the help of others, it took three of my girlfriends, Barnali, Sabiha and Preeti to help me put my sari on (I'm a failure as a brown girl, I cannot put a sari on my by myself for the life of me), and even my mother commented on how beautifully it was put on. And honestly, coming from a Desi mother, that means a lot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFFD3FhIzL15g-d_45rqZLeoOF_HuI9aqw4aoyndV3U501vsanK8kOLn-GfHS81jT_0ndBQdS__EPblM4kVTZojWi2F-S5eDAxCYnwo_XsXsClANk-0DETernITrRlGqEq0Q0uAVTv8vk/s1600/1622829_10203218619525246_115692730_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFFD3FhIzL15g-d_45rqZLeoOF_HuI9aqw4aoyndV3U501vsanK8kOLn-GfHS81jT_0ndBQdS__EPblM4kVTZojWi2F-S5eDAxCYnwo_XsXsClANk-0DETernITrRlGqEq0Q0uAVTv8vk/s1600/1622829_10203218619525246_115692730_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful bouquet =) Photograph by Jennifer Davis</td></tr>
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My bouquet was put together by Mary's daughter, Charlotte, and our breathtaking wedding photography was done by Mary's niece, Jennifer. Our celebration wouldn't have been possible without the contribution of all of these friends, and I will never forget what they did for me to make my day so special, ever. My friend and artist, Sabreena Haque of Ritual by Design did my stunning mendhi.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8ZMhtNPt9L1or7_GKqWwAJkbSjbkPlHECLUObfNXkSIuUSqXYNjwCZc6kvX4yNnVSpQdmveplCgf9VDw-xCCaqEbOSAFZqT46Wccfx4QmznYbHQPeyooZnb_7UJKjThXHIJrVVNDgrh6/s1600/1601079_10152258574927028_1350155531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8ZMhtNPt9L1or7_GKqWwAJkbSjbkPlHECLUObfNXkSIuUSqXYNjwCZc6kvX4yNnVSpQdmveplCgf9VDw-xCCaqEbOSAFZqT46Wccfx4QmznYbHQPeyooZnb_7UJKjThXHIJrVVNDgrh6/s1600/1601079_10152258574927028_1350155531_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful mendhi by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RitualByDesign" target="_blank">Ritual By Design</a></td></tr>
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My friend Nadine, handmade truffle chocolates for dessert. My best friend Nwe not only got us appetizers from her local Burmese community, but had her boys help me out to fundraise at my wedding for my organization, <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF (National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum)</a>, they went around with a box asking people for donations for this organization under our name.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfTwxk8Fo1LD3TCZK0V-XrMjgj9gc-NvWD0j2hsi919MLsXCZzF3qie9Bwj1RbLYLbcZmlyTfhYmu7X-TLiFp4K0P_vt793g6MdvbSD27juHcCvaaj-WkcSQCPmu_hv0bKSibuqa-SOgO/s1600/SAM_0537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfTwxk8Fo1LD3TCZK0V-XrMjgj9gc-NvWD0j2hsi919MLsXCZzF3qie9Bwj1RbLYLbcZmlyTfhYmu7X-TLiFp4K0P_vt793g6MdvbSD27juHcCvaaj-WkcSQCPmu_hv0bKSibuqa-SOgO/s1600/SAM_0537.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF </a>sisters and my donation box</td></tr>
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When I walked down the aisle, with Mary giving me away (yea girl POWER!), I couldn't even look at the crowd that was waiting for me. I was too overwhelmed by their love for me and Roberto, I was too overwhelmed by them coming out on a rainy day to be a part of this. During my vows, I laughed, cried and honestly forgot what I actually said (thankfully there's video), but was moved the entire time by having everyone there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3poDHgz8Ac_TOfXmSSYm9auhMlauklhtuz9_iK1cedlHoqn0HxfW43R902kTCsZUhnz3yjgWPFy307CEAJ87ek5ZaBlEILqgjFVSj5mB2j34v7RL64VRD-YVyov2AcbSPQHtJK7neiLx/s1600/SAM_0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3poDHgz8Ac_TOfXmSSYm9auhMlauklhtuz9_iK1cedlHoqn0HxfW43R902kTCsZUhnz3yjgWPFy307CEAJ87ek5ZaBlEILqgjFVSj5mB2j34v7RL64VRD-YVyov2AcbSPQHtJK7neiLx/s1600/SAM_0531.jpg" height="268" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You know you have the best co-workers in the world when they come out to party for your wedding! My organization, CHAA (Community Health for Asian Americans)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGpOLLWK-0v27CJbz4-MWeizM9NBfJarDRoVp607ooizhEPw7MTlSk6hsXrbAcE3rbFzCNzb_P7YF6C_YoMvdVRa2YvrcTxFErh5uWO59ej-4oQ9kqP4OsDnyGlLb55gwI9mypVxJURI0/s1600/SAM_0572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGpOLLWK-0v27CJbz4-MWeizM9NBfJarDRoVp607ooizhEPw7MTlSk6hsXrbAcE3rbFzCNzb_P7YF6C_YoMvdVRa2YvrcTxFErh5uWO59ej-4oQ9kqP4OsDnyGlLb55gwI9mypVxJURI0/s1600/SAM_0572.jpg" height="195" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My awesome SEAYL youth came out, because they are the most awesome youth ever</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhyzbD9f-DKhY5w1SBfrDeWaQYcLBwV0TJxBqG_LgrD9j_bk0TRjvACitGBMJGkxfBiZ_YE7O60JT-TbitNSHNmBBe-3JYgRDFhCb9C6y-FG49c5poJOAf_GTE10Mfa0s_JVuBs7GQA5v/s1600/SAM_0543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhyzbD9f-DKhY5w1SBfrDeWaQYcLBwV0TJxBqG_LgrD9j_bk0TRjvACitGBMJGkxfBiZ_YE7O60JT-TbitNSHNmBBe-3JYgRDFhCb9C6y-FG49c5poJOAf_GTE10Mfa0s_JVuBs7GQA5v/s1600/SAM_0543.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my Black Young Dems! Co founded this group with some of these people 2 years ago, and look how far we've come =)</td></tr>
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I'm not sure if everyone understood how significant this event was for me. Yes it was a celebration of love, but it was also for me, a celebration of my four years here in the Bay Area. I came here literally ONLY knowing Roberto, the guy I made this crazy move for. As I moved around our packed party, I mingled with the different people in organizations I've worked with, from different jobs, to political movements and groups. All of them were part of a transformative chapter of my life. Each one of them shared a memory and experience with me, I honestly cannot believe that I experienced so much in these 4 years. My friendships and relationships are a testament to these lives I've lived in the West Coast.<br />
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After cheerful and tearful toasts, after dancing and drinking, after gifts and hugs, I know have this memory forever. It is a very important memory of love, the love I share with Roberto and the love I shared with each and every person who joined us. Thank you ALL, from the bottom of my heart. <br />
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I love you all, thank you to my my friends for loving us back!<br />
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PS. If you want to check out all of our wedding pictures by the wonderful <a href="http://jdavisphotography.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer Davis</a>, here they are!<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jdavisphotos/sets/72157640809953074/" target="_blank">Nadia and Roberto's Wedding Photos</a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jdavisphotos/sets/72157640814364803/" target="_blank">Nadia and Roberto's Black and White Wedding Photos</a> <br />
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-52001148829425232772013-12-31T20:53:00.000-08:002014-01-01T23:19:29.184-08:00An Unforgettable 2013...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Every year is different for everyone, some people have been happy that 2013 is over. I'm never happy that a year is over, I'm pretty indifferent either way, but I have to say that for me 2013 has been a monumental year in my life. After having some major struggle years in 2010 and 2011, and an in between year of 2012, this past year really saw me take off. Many of you may know that Facebook has a sort of "year in review" timeline option, I finally looked at mine and here's a sample of my "Top Events" of 2013.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAjWWkW6iSmTzk1jdz49bGoAb9-9girPDJZydulZw7Js8Vpr116WFkh4ifw65jyfRM2yRN9oXtulr6PSJ7mXGu6kDtF4tL5Kz8sQo-MzD5mKVEd903MW9wN0JDrTTe4f-AwhcISXS5-1E/s1600/mother+may+I.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAjWWkW6iSmTzk1jdz49bGoAb9-9girPDJZydulZw7Js8Vpr116WFkh4ifw65jyfRM2yRN9oXtulr6PSJ7mXGu6kDtF4tL5Kz8sQo-MzD5mKVEd903MW9wN0JDrTTe4f-AwhcISXS5-1E/s400/mother+may+I.png" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaQiaAcc81mskYOU0THkgGozl4I0hrlMjszSxyOqElqhxS-ZHGAekse1clV_tDFtPlyCBbHXjOQvEBawN0dOa93WNQrfSSDVoZjVgI6Ic_sRE3doQeoFmROSflbAjr3BMdjxqTet6a0z3/s1600/engaged.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaQiaAcc81mskYOU0THkgGozl4I0hrlMjszSxyOqElqhxS-ZHGAekse1clV_tDFtPlyCBbHXjOQvEBawN0dOa93WNQrfSSDVoZjVgI6Ic_sRE3doQeoFmROSflbAjr3BMdjxqTet6a0z3/s400/engaged.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Alright that was my year, see ya!</div>
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Just kidding, but these were definitely highlights from a year full of them. Getting engaged and married within such a short period of time (we were officially engaged in May and got married in July, craziness!) was a whirlwind for sure. It was a wave of family, love and emotion that picked me up and took me for an unforgettable ride. In the end, my wedding in July was one of the happiest memories of my life, full of friends, love, laughter, tons of bling, and more laughter. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDqhQ6SHxtPConnDvSfyJlHNlER83iwGYwj9U9fJFCeLZH8BVSbIMf-vDRkcNvTS5-I7vx7ckxXA3VNUKE1h9rL-gcAKONAZ78EVIV7ZKB-oYDBs0mPyHyRpYUmV9_JXEcOyrtkbbdvvT/s1600/72627_10102810325656739_1510350538_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDqhQ6SHxtPConnDvSfyJlHNlER83iwGYwj9U9fJFCeLZH8BVSbIMf-vDRkcNvTS5-I7vx7ckxXA3VNUKE1h9rL-gcAKONAZ78EVIV7ZKB-oYDBs0mPyHyRpYUmV9_JXEcOyrtkbbdvvT/s400/72627_10102810325656739_1510350538_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, this was my wedding in a nutshell</td></tr>
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My sister is the one that made my wedding happen, and though it increased her blood pressure significantly, I couldn't have asked for a better sister and friend even though she wanted to toss me off a cliff by the time my wedding actually happened. I have to also give so much love to my parents who accepted Roberto 110% after finding out that we wanted to spend our lives together, despite him coming from a different cultural and religious background. Though he did convert to Islam of his own volition, it still boggles my mind that after 20+ years of hiding boyfriends and hyperventilating at the thought of my parents ever knowing that I had some romantic interest in the male species that they would be so loving and accepting of him as their new son. I also reflect on my friends, who came out of the woodwork to join in with my last meeting wedding insanity. Though I could only invite a handful of friends who could have actually made it do it being so last minute and the wedding having limited funds, I will never forget how my best friend, Taz, who I've been friends since I was 4, drove up 15 HOURS one way (then back) to be there for me. She literally drove 30 hours total to come up to Northeast Pennsylvania and be driven insane by my family. That's true love. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TRUE LOVE</td></tr>
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My other homeboy for life, Arshad, also drove up for hours upon hours from Florida to join me. That's real friendship, and their presence there along with my dear friends from childhood and college on my special day was one of the most beautiful things I ever experienced in my life and I will never forget it. </div>
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Of course the last person I thank and reflect on is my husband, my Roberto. We were together for 4 years before our wedding, and he was the Chewbacca to my Han in this entire whirlwind. When he proposed to me in Alamo Park in San Francisco by surprising me with so many of my family and friends there, neither of us could even accept the engagement because we were so choked up. I cried like a maniac, only because I was so happy that we would be together...and that he locked that ish DOWN with style.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me making my ugly crying face when Roberto proposed</td></tr>
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He accepted my family, my culture and religion I grew up with so graciously, and has made my parents so happy. It's funny how a relationship can progress beyond your wildest dreams, but ours did. We worked on our challenges together, we went through a cross continental relationship, losing jobs, gaining cats, hiding our love from my parents due to a fear of their non acceptance and multiple moves to be together. He is my partner in crime and I cannot wait to start 2014 with him as my Mr. Hussain.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My family, Roberto and I after getting our marriage license</td></tr>
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Outside of the awesomeness in my personal life 2013 saw great leaps and dreams fulfilled in terms of the work I do with social justice and in my professional life. Around the time I got married, I received wonderful news that I had been selected for the National Governing Board of a women's organization I admire immensely, <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF (National Asian Women's Political Forum</a>). I joked with the Executive Director of <a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank">NAPAWF</a>, Miriam Yeung, that I think was more elated about joining the board than my own wedding (sorry Roberto!). But it has been life altering for me to be on a national board, working with women all across the country to advance the rights and voices of Asian Pacific Islander Women in a national context. I could not be more thrilled about this.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NAPAWF ladies and I lobbying on Capitol Hill for Women's Reproductive Rights!</td></tr>
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In 2013 I also joined the board of the Asian Pacific Islander Caucus of the California Democratic Party, my first time on any state political board, it was also cool to actually be voted into the position (which means that people temporarily lost their minds and actually picked me). This year, I also saw leaps and bounds in an organization I helped start, the Black Young Democrats of the East Bay, which was chosen as our county's "Democratic Club of the Year". Not bad for an organization which started just 2 years ago as a vision of promoting Black young leadership in the East Bay, California. I am always so proud of them and am honored to be part of their leadership. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Young Dems will rock your activist socks off, and look good doing it</td></tr>
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This year saw me doing intense outreach to marginalized communities on behalf of the Affordable Care Act, it has been a challenging journey that has been well documented in the press, but I am grateful for the opportunity to reach out on a grassroots level to make healthcare information more accessible.</div>
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A collection of thank you notes from Asian American Studies students at
SF State University for an Affordable Care Act presentation I did there</span></span></td></tr>
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Though 2013 has been better for me than most years in recent memory, it also brought the loss of a person whom I cared about a lot. I know that getting older will only bring more loss like this, and it is not something I am looking forward to. In April, my dear friend Polly passed away. I wrote about her in my previous blog post. She had health problems for awhile, but her death was sudden and unexpected for me. Though I miss her, I have gotten to know her family after her death and feel a sense of peace knowing that she was surrounded in life by so many who loved her dearly.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grateful to have had her in my life</td></tr>
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2014 is due to arrive very soon. In the past two weeks Roberto and I have crossed three state lines to spend the last vestiges of the year with our family and friends. I am so grateful for having his family be MY family, as we spent the best Christmas I have ever had in upstate New York. I am so grateful to have family that have accepted me wholly within their fold and I cannot believe that overnight I have so many new people who will part of my life forever. In these waning hours of 2013, I will be spending NYE with my mom at a brown peoples party aka a party full of other Bengali people that my parents are dragging my husband and I to. Still, I am happy to spend it with them, though at midnight I won't be able to give Roberto a kiss (too scandalous in these circles).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a pajama fam jam with Berto's family, my sister and her boyfriend in upstate New York</td></tr>
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This year will be a year of transition since I am going to move back to the East Coast this summer. This is something a few of my friends know, but it will be news to some. This decision has been a long time coming, in a sense I sort of got "stuck" out West due to a terrible economy and had wanted to move back much sooner. Though I moved out to the Bay Area 4 years ago with love and stars in my eyes, I knew that the move would be temporary, that in the end I would come back home to the East Coast to be with my family and settle down (well as much as someone like me <i>can</i> settle down).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woohoo! Jersey! Jersey!</td></tr>
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I could not be more excited for the New Year, to move back to a home that I have missed so much for 4 years. I admit that though I am a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of moving across country <i>again</i>, I know that it is just another step to having my dreams come true. Here's to 2014, a year of having dreams come true! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><u>HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!</u></td></tr>
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S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-53454115166997192272013-12-16T00:33:00.000-08:002013-12-18T17:31:52.118-08:00A Season of Love & Remembrance<br />
What does a Brown, Muslim girl know about Christmas really? It wasn't something my family celebrated with me as a kid, though I have a sneaking suspicion that my mom really, REALLY wanted to celebrate it but was just hiding that fact. She used to tell me that it was a "Christian" holiday and so as Muslims, it wouldn't be right to celebrate, or get a Christmas tree. Yet, she would buy Christmas ornaments like crazy (this wasn't helped by the fact that she worked at a Department store and got crazy discounts on all things Christmas). Since we had no tree to hang the ornaments, we would hang them around the house randomly with thumbtacks. I remember when I was 9, I wanted a Christmas tree so badly that I ripped a branch off a pine tree near my home, stuck it in an empty flower pot and hung up paper ornaments on it that I drew with crayons. It was the saddest Christmas tree ever, Charlie Brown ain't got nothing on a confused Christmas loving Muslim kid.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80VYcovT4a6nSRkE7uLVVX3HF9eKua5SJiW0eDwkFb3QZmHj1OX1ti3R_hZO8DKlqsP9ms5E7oSKiS_6psq17UybVPoPGTm8mCAUY41az_rJvb-FDrQDE2S6T81CGOBjgXKETqisuNwib/s1600/charlie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80VYcovT4a6nSRkE7uLVVX3HF9eKua5SJiW0eDwkFb3QZmHj1OX1ti3R_hZO8DKlqsP9ms5E7oSKiS_6psq17UybVPoPGTm8mCAUY41az_rJvb-FDrQDE2S6T81CGOBjgXKETqisuNwib/s1600/charlie.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I feel ya Charlie Brown, I feel ya...</td></tr>
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Now as an adult, I embrace all things Christmas. Perhaps not the insane consumerism, but as a holiday I love it! To me it's not religious as all (since, well I'm as secular as you can get) but just another fun holiday where I get to do fun things, get a tree, exchange gifts and eat myself into an unhealthy BMI number.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PcqcoQgI9w11aYVEnpANghxDVturuFm1q4wnOa-OMlnAlvgKAHMDGhJCH6hYC_zVCo-e0W1tDoft8xbie3KgrzYaL-Jt-KZjCpb_tAz9oEtWBG-T3afkCpVWLAa6uF7tbUEnuyudJR6R/s1600/fat-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PcqcoQgI9w11aYVEnpANghxDVturuFm1q4wnOa-OMlnAlvgKAHMDGhJCH6hYC_zVCo-e0W1tDoft8xbie3KgrzYaL-Jt-KZjCpb_tAz9oEtWBG-T3afkCpVWLAa6uF7tbUEnuyudJR6R/s320/fat-cat.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DON'T JUDGE ME!!</td></tr>
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Okay, I'll be honest, the holidays do bring out more for me. It is time for me to remember to count my blessings, to spend quality time with loved ones and reflect on the year that was before New Years.<br />
<br />
The hardest thing about this year has been losing someone I love. That is always the hardest thing in life to me, always. My dear friend, Pauline Cabello, or as I knew her, Polly, passed away this past April. The saddest part for me is that I didn't even know she passed away until October, an entire 6 months of her not being on this planet with me having no idea. I only found out when I decided to hit her up to check out what she was doing for Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) this year. I usually spent the day with her, and when I turned to her Facebook to see what she would be doing I was met with message after message of people missing her. My heart completely broke. I was immediately wracked with guilt that has still not left me. HOW could I NOT know that she was gone? Though we didn't talk every week, we usually saw each other a couple of times a year and kept in touch rather frequently on Facebook. She always liked my statuses and photos, and we messaged each other. We even messaged each other about 2 weeks before she died, with me complaining about traffic tickets. Maybe that's why I didn't think she would pass away so soon. Her health wasn't great but her death was sudden and in the blink of an eye she was gone. It was a blink that I missed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEUkomhkukkPXXnY9l9VxRDPUwtKPtjiytkeSSaCO6SXodlcNISYJuSBctGub7vsy1vGKbMmUrMJH_UykvbaUTXMBtv7jG1_4fYZn-v2L-QRVcO3fx17ehhhVfR7D5Bbuf30g5z6unHDj/s1600/387218_10100912080984279_632205461_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEUkomhkukkPXXnY9l9VxRDPUwtKPtjiytkeSSaCO6SXodlcNISYJuSBctGub7vsy1vGKbMmUrMJH_UykvbaUTXMBtv7jG1_4fYZn-v2L-QRVcO3fx17ehhhVfR7D5Bbuf30g5z6unHDj/s320/387218_10100912080984279_632205461_n.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Polly and I at a Dia De Los Muertos festival in the Fruitvale, Oakland CA in 2011</td></tr>
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<br />
Pauline was older than me, almost a grandmother type, but she really had a young soul. Her energy and positivity just radiated from her, she was always so active. It was hard to tell her age because she had the energy of a twenty-something! I met her through my husband, whom she met while they were both in the ceramics program at a community college. My husband had just gotten out of the Marines and was having tough time adjusting back to civilian life. She came into his life and encouraged him in his art and in leadership. He became President of their college's ceramics guild due to her encouragement. He told me that she was there when he needed him, especially during a time when many people weren't. That will always mean something to him, I hope that Polly realized that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_i5uWrejRxiBFvzk1rmDitHYDwdTRkIInXkU6YiOC-VfdS852IO8bB2aldf0i_E_L6PIbh2MVYankwVLEkYd5V9CNbdvO-GRWKqzJXgNhifJMYXD_QLjVFQv9vGu5d4_WvXmKjbD5PUY/s1600/182593_10102081068898129_1724807071_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_i5uWrejRxiBFvzk1rmDitHYDwdTRkIInXkU6YiOC-VfdS852IO8bB2aldf0i_E_L6PIbh2MVYankwVLEkYd5V9CNbdvO-GRWKqzJXgNhifJMYXD_QLjVFQv9vGu5d4_WvXmKjbD5PUY/s320/182593_10102081068898129_1724807071_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting Polly's face the last time I saw her <3 comment-3--=""><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></3></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She came out to all of my husbands art shows, shows that even his family didn't come to, but she was there, every time. Though I didn't know anyone when I first moved here, she was one of Roberto's friends who immediately embraced me and was so genuinely sweet and friendly to me from the first time I met her. We struck up a friendship through Roberto but continued it on our own. I will always remember my last memory of spending Dia De Los Muertos with her last year at an event she organized. There was music, hot chocolate and a beautiful exhibit, all of which she organized. I remember painting her face for her, she was so excited to have me do that. When I celebrated that year, I never imagined that a year later I would be mourning her as a loved one who had passed, as another person whose name I would commemorate during the day of the dead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4k9uCaLxg7vZoOVciaveMdlS1xoFq3PyXc86hvLfHFS5Skg4N1egoEJyq4Ju9rY1rQH9Ckz_S32AE1H30YFHAM729juyfJC_TGmiTWgAt_zjcx-o5UfS9txxWduXbb9Gxm3AwtDVQHjlm/s1600/270102_10100742198739659_3629697_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4k9uCaLxg7vZoOVciaveMdlS1xoFq3PyXc86hvLfHFS5Skg4N1egoEJyq4Ju9rY1rQH9Ckz_S32AE1H30YFHAM729juyfJC_TGmiTWgAt_zjcx-o5UfS9txxWduXbb9Gxm3AwtDVQHjlm/s320/270102_10100742198739659_3629697_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;">With Roberto at his <span style="color: #0000ee;">last art show</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What also hurt me is that I didn't get to join in any of the memorial celebrations of her life. I didn't have any mutual friends with her outside of my husband, so no one could let me know. I was grappling with lost, crying randomly at night wracked with guilt and sadness at not seeing her again. I was especially sad because she never got the chance to see Roberto and I get engaged and married. She would have been so happy for us, she was so supportive to us and loves us so much as a couple.<br />
<br />
So I was happy to find out that a group of friends of hers would have a small celebratory holiday gathering where she would be honored. <br />
<br />
I joined the gathering this past weekend, and am so glad I did. After someone passes on, closure and commemoration is really for the living, a way for someone to come to terms with their sadness and address the pain they have inside . What I loved the most about the gathering was that it was full of fun and laughter, just like Polly herself. I was able to meet friends of Polly who knew her from when she was a teenager or even younger. I met her family, including her sister and daughter, and was told great stories of her childhood, like the time she punched out bullies on behalf of her little brothers, her time as a roadie and her time being a "Lush Woman" who joined in these parties. I was able to see another side of Polly, I was able to see her again through her loved ones, and that was very special.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgCWthLsE-vo110AO0ma6xdZKDTO5MzVd43nHsfhoXW1P3IurtqhUde8WSy3lkg36Op-hSu70YjRuY-C_a5zwoq07bdFfAr9GSs4rz19fO6WwGXKqEiwPGEIYbWxLUvFuUEpqmwLxetIZ/s1600/1491730_10103353224627849_825171672_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgCWthLsE-vo110AO0ma6xdZKDTO5MzVd43nHsfhoXW1P3IurtqhUde8WSy3lkg36Op-hSu70YjRuY-C_a5zwoq07bdFfAr9GSs4rz19fO6WwGXKqEiwPGEIYbWxLUvFuUEpqmwLxetIZ/s320/1491730_10103353224627849_825171672_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lush women party! Coz they keep it real!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Thank you to all of Polly's friends and family who responded to me and let me into their lives with Polly. It really means the world and gives me some sense of peace. Like I mentioned before, Polly was an artist. I loved seeing her proudly display her beautiful and creative artwork during the displays I attended. Her family let me know that I could take one of her pieces to keep, to always have and remember her. That means a lot to me, I hope to always display her work, and when someone asks me about it, I can tell them about her and what she meant to me. This way she can always live on, through my stories and memory.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOiFfz0WgUnfs3SgGf6xAgXIZ5gYfdlG1n8371uPN5nX30PgPR3tfgAdWd8ZkLI-ayyTLi2Ry0OKvHdCjB7Ba9kTEbsyxefB4-L2eUAhllfbA-WhZqy_fvHMJqNUJ1cISJDKCbDdqdEJJ/s1600/537340_10150647438353922_379080584_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOiFfz0WgUnfs3SgGf6xAgXIZ5gYfdlG1n8371uPN5nX30PgPR3tfgAdWd8ZkLI-ayyTLi2Ry0OKvHdCjB7Ba9kTEbsyxefB4-L2eUAhllfbA-WhZqy_fvHMJqNUJ1cISJDKCbDdqdEJJ/s320/537340_10150647438353922_379080584_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will never forget you</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I love you Polly, I am so sad that you aren't with us to celebrate the holidays. I am sorry I won't see your positive smiling face. I will miss all of your invites to fun events. Thank you for the support and memories, Roberto and I will never forget you!<br />
<br />
Happy Holidays to her family and to all of you and your families this holiday season.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Nadia S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-65729062894914539922013-11-08T02:31:00.002-08:002013-11-08T11:47:01.967-08:00And so it goes...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Life is amazing! And super busy! I haven't posted in awhile, but that's because I've been pre-occupied with blogging up a storm as a Political Blogger at <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/" target="_blank">Hyphen magazine</a>. I've been covering stories for over a year now, but have also been writing a bunch of guest blogs for other sites. So that's been taking up a lot of brain space.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dVIclTX74tSqe2Ho-bRfIHRoMbp5o7726DLZt73NEHJq91xeE7dx9ZPmuvRFU8DtwXDjKAz-M_bj-JBooJUjSyf7UKTVv4T8Op-KriJfL2GyWL_hP8oh7Uv5si6B_8HfV43OkGbAm5Z7/s1600/brainimages.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dVIclTX74tSqe2Ho-bRfIHRoMbp5o7726DLZt73NEHJq91xeE7dx9ZPmuvRFU8DtwXDjKAz-M_bj-JBooJUjSyf7UKTVv4T8Op-KriJfL2GyWL_hP8oh7Uv5si6B_8HfV43OkGbAm5Z7/s1600/brainimages.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Man, it's a jungle in there</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Apparently though, some people actually read this thing, so I figure I'd better get up on putting on new content. There's always LOTS to talk about (especially when I'm involved). Also I got married in July, it was a grand Bangla-dorian (Bengali/Salvadoran) wedding and I should totally write about it...yea will get on that.<br />
<br />
<br />
In the meanwhile, here is the link to my Hyphen posts:<br />
<a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/nadia-hussain" target="_blank">http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/nadia-hussain</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0jWubaa6nKuSTXD-39hU1d04fG8-7Bi2h4_d_GSdCZaWu9W4t6SraCNU41QagnLFFT3NhDK4AMgy2wSijji8W0MgKp3WHGnxPJ5-9sEwytGMc_F1178AAWaZcS4efJSkCeT7fUZcQSn_/s1600/hyphen+slide2_full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0jWubaa6nKuSTXD-39hU1d04fG8-7Bi2h4_d_GSdCZaWu9W4t6SraCNU41QagnLFFT3NhDK4AMgy2wSijji8W0MgKp3WHGnxPJ5-9sEwytGMc_F1178AAWaZcS4efJSkCeT7fUZcQSn_/s320/hyphen+slide2_full.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yea Hyphen is awesome</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
and I am cross-posting my latest post below. Have been working on immigration issues for years, and will be focusing more on the topic now that I am a new member of the national governing board of the<a href="http://napawf.org/" target="_blank"> National Asian Women's Political Forum (NAPAWF)</a>, which may have excited me more than my wedding ( I know what a loser, right?).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Uhq1zgX3utMX2dx2w3bwLIDJKjiYxVLQGxVq5E3sFYhlsIVbkP3oxTtNPszY8NUxkMgl-KCLszYFRxzhyphenhyphenjeqPj24fpv5dqtowj7xP8w7Lsh-cp4WghPW_kOzMg44J5SRbr8CSd9wYsG/s1600/napawf1001552_660809031281_2094701746_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Uhq1zgX3utMX2dx2w3bwLIDJKjiYxVLQGxVq5E3sFYhlsIVbkP3oxTtNPszY8NUxkMgl-KCLszYFRxzhyphenhyphenjeqPj24fpv5dqtowj7xP8w7Lsh-cp4WghPW_kOzMg44J5SRbr8CSd9wYsG/s320/napawf1001552_660809031281_2094701746_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay NAPAWF Board pic in sunny Arizona!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So yea been covering immigration, especially regarding Comprehensive Immigration Reform lately. So please check out my articles, only if you feel like it. If you don't feel like it, you can just click<a href="http://www.kittenwar.com/" target="_blank"> here</a> and judge kittens.<br />
<br />
For the rest of you, my latest article is below, it was cross listed to some pretty sweet blogs, such as <a href="http://www.racialicious.com/2013/10/30/not-your-model-minority-asian-americans-and-the-immigration-fight/" target="_blank">Racialicious </a>and Angry Asian Man (!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uwgLiJ8IdAlc4_-HUwLCQA0Y33-XJj__fvAWpm4xZYGOP6dUBbvB26SqdIzK1B_7IhreJqNqMLPSUpyGg7irfnlompRRb_rY7-YXum0hdTdab1NMrTGjUSIjT81GEw_yk12fyiqFunX8/s1600/greg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uwgLiJ8IdAlc4_-HUwLCQA0Y33-XJj__fvAWpm4xZYGOP6dUBbvB26SqdIzK1B_7IhreJqNqMLPSUpyGg7irfnlompRRb_rY7-YXum0hdTdab1NMrTGjUSIjT81GEw_yk12fyiqFunX8/s400/greg.jpg" width="173" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend Greg in the Pride flag and self-scrawled
T-shirt, and yes he is also awesome, as awesome as judging kittens....</td></tr>
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<i>Photo by Soyun Park/AAPI Immigration Table. </i><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: &amp; font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Photo by Soyun Park/API Immigration Table</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Photo by Soyun Park/AAPI Immigration Table</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Not Your Model Minority</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">by: S. Nadia Hussain </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On
October 8, Gregory Cendana, the Executive Director of the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/apalanet.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Asian Pacific American Labor Alliance</span></a> (APALA) was
arrested, along with two hundred other activists and eight members of Congress
in our nation's capitol. In photos from that day, he is seen being led away in
handcuffs with a pride flag tied around his neck like superhero cape and a
handwritten t-shirt -- with the words “Not your Model Minority” scrawled on the
front. Cendana is Asian American and his actions that day stood as a testament
to the diverse communities that are impacted by the lack of immigration
reform. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Immigration
is often framed as an issue impacting mostly Latino populations. According to
the Pew Hispanic Center -- though the modern immigration wave from Latin
America has made up 50% of US immigration, <a href="http://www.pewhispanic.org/2013/01/29/a-nation-of-immigrants"><span style="color: blue;">migration from Asia makes up a substantial 27%</span></a>.
Outside of Mexico, the leading countries of origin of immigrants are India, the
Philippines and China. Asians make up <a href="http://pewhispanic.org/files/reports/44.pdf%29"><span style="color: blue;">13%
of the US undocumented population</span></a>. The <a href="http://www.dhs.gov/xlibrary/assets/statistics/publications/ois_ill_pe_2009.pdf"><span style="color: blue;">US Office of Homeland security estimates</span></a> that as
of 2009, the largest undocumented Asian populations are 270,000 immigrants from
the Philippines, 200,000 from India, 200,000 from Korea and 120,000 from China.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
stereotype of Asians as the model minority makes invisible the stories of the
individuals and families behind these numbers. While immigration reform stalls
within legislative chambers, activists and community members have come out in
droves to highlight its impact on their communities. The October 8<sup>th</sup>
action was part of a coordinated campaign around immigration reform launched by
<a href="http://www.ncapaonline.org/immigration_about_us.html"><span style="color: blue;">eight national AAPI organizations.</span></a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
was also the third immigration action taken within the last six months in D.C.
There was the protest less than a month ago, where roughly 200 women protested
and over <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/09/women-stand-and-get-arrested-immigration-reform"><span style="color: blue;">100 were arrested</span></a> as part of as mass
demonstration. Before that, there was an <a href="http://www.blogher.com/why-we-got-arrested-women-and-immigration-reform?from=bhspinner"><span style="color: blue;">organized protest on August 1</span></a>, where over 46
labor leaders, immigrant advocates, environmental activists, people of faith,
and DREAMers blocked the street in front of Capitol Hill while 300 allies and
four members of Congress cheered them on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet
in light of the Government shutdown, many are afraid that immigration efforts
will be stalled indefinitely. “Have our congressional leaders forgotten that
this is a nation of immigrants?” Cendana asks. “America is a nation of values,
founded on the idea that all men and women are created equal. How we treat new
immigrants reflects our commitment to the values that define America and how we
define American.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">These
words and actions haven’t escaped the attention of the President. The day after
reaching a deal to re-open the government, <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/cheats/2013/10/15/obama-pursuing-immigration-reform-after-budget-deal.html"><span style="color: blue;">President Obama vowed to pursue a House vote on immigration
reform</span></a>: “The majority of Americans think this is the right thing to
do” said the President, “and it’s sitting there waiting for the House to pass
it....But let’s not leave this problem to keep festering...This can and should
get done by the end of this year.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">The
ongoing pressure from these communities may help ensure that the President
delivers on this resolve and that Congress realizes that the immigration issue
won’t disappear -- shutdown or no shutdown. Activists </span>
<br />
<div id="stcpDiv" style="left: -1988px; position: absolute; top: -1999px;">
On October 8, Gregory Cendana, the Executive Director of the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/apalanet.org/">Asian Pacific American Labor Alliance</a> (APALA) was arrested, along with two
hundred other activists and eight members of Congress in our nation's
capitol. In photos from that day, he is
seen being led away in handcuffs with a pride flag tied around his neck
like superhero cape and a handwritten t-shirt -- with the words “Not your Model
Minority” scrawled on the front. Cendana is Asian American and his actions that
day stood as a testament to the diverse communities that are impacted by the
lack of immigration reform.
<br />
Immigration is often framed as an issue impacting
mostly Latino populations. According to the Pew Hispanic Center -- though the modern immigration wave from Latin
America has made up 50% of US immigration, <a href="http://www.pewhispanic.org/2013/01/29/a-nation-of-immigrants" target="_blank">migration from Asia makes up a
substantial 27%</a>. Outside of Mexico, the leading countries of origin of
immigrants are India, the Philippines and China. Asians make up <a href="http://pewhispanic.org/files/reports/44.pdf%29" target="_blank">13% of the US undocumented population</a>. The <a href="http://www.dhs.gov/xlibrary/assets/statistics/publications/ois_ill_pe_2009.pdf" target="_blank">US Office of Homeland security estimates</a>
that as of 2009, the largest undocumented Asian populations are 270,000
immigrants from the Philippines, 200,000 from India, 200,000
from Korea and 120,000 from China.<br />
The stereotype of Asians as the model minority makes invisible the
stories of the individuals and families behind these numbers.
While immigration reform stalls within legislative chambers, activists
and community members have come out in droves to highlight its impact on
their
communities. The October 8<sup>th</sup> action was part of a coordinated campaign
around immigration reform launched by <a href="http://www.ncapaonline.org/immigration_about_us.html" target="_blank">eight national AAPI organizations.</a> <br />
It was also the third immigration action taken within the
last six months in D.C. There was the protest less than a month ago,
where roughly 200 women protested and over <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/09/women-stand-and-get-arrested-immigration-reform" target="_blank">100 were arrested</a> as part of
as mass demonstration.
Before that, there was an <a href="http://www.blogher.com/why-we-got-arrested-women-and-immigration-reform?from=bhspinner" target="_blank">organized protest on August 1</a>, where over 46 labor
leaders, immigrant advocates, environmental activists, people of faith, and
DREAMers blocked the street in front of Capitol Hill while 300 allies and four
members of Congress cheered them on.<br />
Yet in light of the Government shutdown, many are
afraid that immigration efforts will be stalled indefinitely. “Have our
congressional leaders forgotten that this is a nation of immigrants?” Cendana
asks. “America is a nation of values, founded on the idea that all men and
women are created equal. How we treat new immigrants reflects our commitment to
the values that define America and how we define American.”<br />
These words and actions haven’t escaped
the attention of the President. The day after reaching a deal to re-open the
government, <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/cheats/2013/10/15/obama-pursuing-immigration-reform-after-budget-deal.html" target="_blank">President Obama vowed to pursue a House vote on immigration reform</a>: “The majority of Americans think this is the
right thing to do” said the President, “and it’s sitting there waiting for the
House to pass it....But
let’s not leave this problem to keep festering...This can and should get done by the end of this year.”
<br />
The ongoing pressure from these
communities may help ensure that the President delivers on this resolve and that Congress
realizes that the immigration issue won’t disappear -- shutdown or no shutdown.
Activists and officials like the ones who protested and were arrested last week
will be there to ensure that it doesn’t.<br />
- See more at:
http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/not-your-model-minority-asian-americans-and-immigration-fight#sthash.xiHI8VTH.dpuf</div>
<div id="stcpDiv" style="left: -1988px; position: absolute; top: -1999px;">
On October 8, Gregory Cendana, the Executive Director of the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/apalanet.org/">Asian Pacific American Labor Alliance</a> (APALA) was arrested, along with two
hundred other activists and eight members of Congress in our nation's
capitol. In photos from that day, he is
seen being led away in handcuffs with a pride flag tied around his neck
like superhero cape and a handwritten t-shirt -- with the words “Not your Model
Minority” scrawled on the front. Cendana is Asian American and his actions that
day stood as a testament to the diverse communities that are impacted by the
lack of immigration reform.
<br />
Immigration is often framed as an issue impacting
mostly Latino populations. According to the Pew Hispanic Center -- though the modern immigration wave from Latin
America has made up 50% of US immigration, <a href="http://www.pewhispanic.org/2013/01/29/a-nation-of-immigrants" target="_blank">migration from Asia makes up a
substantial 27%</a>. Outside of Mexico, the leading countries of origin of
immigrants are India, the Philippines and China. Asians make up <a href="http://pewhispanic.org/files/reports/44.pdf%29" target="_blank">13% of the US undocumented population</a>. The <a href="http://www.dhs.gov/xlibrary/assets/statistics/publications/ois_ill_pe_2009.pdf" target="_blank">US Office of Homeland security estimates</a>
that as of 2009, the largest undocumented Asian populations are 270,000
immigrants from the Philippines, 200,000 from India, 200,000
from Korea and 120,000 from China.<br />
The stereotype of Asians as the model minority makes invisible the
stories of the individuals and families behind these numbers.
While immigration reform stalls within legislative chambers, activists
and community members have come out in droves to highlight its impact on
their
communities. The October 8<sup>th</sup> action was part of a coordinated campaign
around immigration reform launched by <a href="http://www.ncapaonline.org/immigration_about_us.html" target="_blank">eight national AAPI organizations.</a> <br />
It was also the third immigration action taken within the
last six months in D.C. There was the protest less than a month ago,
where roughly 200 women protested and over <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/09/women-stand-and-get-arrested-immigration-reform" target="_blank">100 were arrested</a> as part of
as mass demonstration.
Before that, there was an <a href="http://www.blogher.com/why-we-got-arrested-women-and-immigration-reform?from=bhspinner" target="_blank">organized protest on August 1</a>, where over 46 labor
leaders, immigrant advocates, environmental activists, people of faith, and
DREAMers blocked the street in front of Capitol Hill while 300 allies and four
members of Congress cheered them on.<br />
Yet in light of the Government shutdown, many are
afraid that immigration efforts will be stalled indefinitely. “Have our
congressional leaders forgotten that this is a nation of immigrants?” Cendana
asks. “America is a nation of values, founded on the idea that all men and
women are created equal. How we treat new immigrants reflects our commitment to
the values that define America and how we define American.”<br />
These words and actions haven’t escaped
the attention of the President. The day after reaching a deal to re-open the
government, <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/cheats/2013/10/15/obama-pursuing-immigration-reform-after-budget-deal.html" target="_blank">President Obama vowed to pursue a House vote on immigration reform</a>: “The majority of Americans think this is the
right thing to do” said the President, “and it’s sitting there waiting for the
House to pass it....But
let’s not leave this problem to keep festering...This can and should get done by the end of this year.”
<br />
The ongoing pressure from these
communities may help ensure that the President delivers on this resolve and that Congress
realizes that the immigration issue won’t disappear -- shutdown or no shutdown.
Activists and officials like the ones who protested and were arrested last week
will be there to ensure that it doesn’t.<br />
- See more at:
http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/not-your-model-minority-asian-americans-and-immigration-fight#sthash.xiHI8VTH.dpuf</div>
<div id="stcpDiv" style="left: -1988px; position: absolute; top: -1999px;">
On October 8, Gregory Cendana, the Executive Director of the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/apalanet.org/">Asian Pacific American Labor Alliance</a> (APALA) was arrested, along with two
hundred other activists and eight members of Congress in our nation's
capitol. In photos from that day, he is
seen being led away in handcuffs with a pride flag tied around his neck
like superhero cape and a handwritten t-shirt -- with the words “Not your Model
Minority” scrawled on the front. Cendana is Asian American and his actions that
day stood as a testament to the diverse communities that are impacted by the
lack of immigration reform.
<br />
Immigration is often framed as an issue impacting
mostly Latino populations. According to the Pew Hispanic Center -- though the modern immigration wave from Latin
America has made up 50% of US immigration, <a href="http://www.pewhispanic.org/2013/01/29/a-nation-of-immigrants" target="_blank">migration from Asia makes up a
substantial 27%</a>. Outside of Mexico, the leading countries of origin of
immigrants are India, the Philippines and China. Asians make up <a href="http://pewhispanic.org/files/reports/44.pdf%29" target="_blank">13% of the US undocumented population</a>. The <a href="http://www.dhs.gov/xlibrary/assets/statistics/publications/ois_ill_pe_2009.pdf" target="_blank">US Office of Homeland security estimates</a>
that as of 2009, the largest undocumented Asian populations are 270,000
immigrants from the Philippines, 200,000 from India, 200,000
from Korea and 120,000 from China.<br />
The stereotype of Asians as the model minority makes invisible the
stories of the individuals and families behind these numbers.
While immigration reform stalls within legislative chambers, activists
and community members have come out in droves to highlight its impact on
their
communities. The October 8<sup>th</sup> action was part of a coordinated campaign
around immigration reform launched by <a href="http://www.ncapaonline.org/immigration_about_us.html" target="_blank">eight national AAPI organizations.</a> <br />
It was also the third immigration action taken within the
last six months in D.C. There was the protest less than a month ago,
where roughly 200 women protested and over <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/09/women-stand-and-get-arrested-immigration-reform" target="_blank">100 were arrested</a> as part of
as mass demonstration.
Before that, there was an <a href="http://www.blogher.com/why-we-got-arrested-women-and-immigration-reform?from=bhspinner" target="_blank">organized protest on August 1</a>, where over 46 labor
leaders, immigrant advocates, environmental activists, people of faith, and
DREAMers blocked the street in front of Capitol Hill while 300 allies and four
members of Congress cheered them on.<br />
Yet in light of the Government shutdown, many are
afraid that immigration efforts will be stalled indefinitely. “Have our
congressional leaders forgotten that this is a nation of immigrants?” Cendana
asks. “America is a nation of values, founded on the idea that all men and
women are created equal. How we treat new immigrants reflects our commitment to
the values that define America and how we define American.”<br />
These words and actions haven’t escaped
the attention of the President. The day after reaching a deal to re-open the
government, <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/cheats/2013/10/15/obama-pursuing-immigration-reform-after-budget-deal.html" target="_blank">President Obama vowed to pursue a House vote on immigration reform</a>: “The majority of Americans think this is the
right thing to do” said the President, “and it’s sitting there waiting for the
House to pass it....But
let’s not leave this problem to keep festering...This can and should get done by the end of this year.”
<br />
The ongoing pressure from these
communities may help ensure that the President delivers on this resolve and that Congress
realizes that the immigration issue won’t disappear -- shutdown or no shutdown.
Activists and officials like the ones who protested and were arrested last week
will be there to ensure that it doesn’t.<br />
- See more at:
http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2013/10/not-your-model-minority-asian-americans-and-immigration-fight#sthash.xiHI8VTH.dpuf</div>
S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-85975900634354813592013-05-03T16:17:00.000-07:002013-11-08T11:50:01.013-08:00The Whirlwind of an Activists LifeWhen I first started this blog, it was a way for me to update my East Coast friends about my brand spankin new journey to the West Coast. I came here completely on my own, save for Roberto. He was the only person I knew in the Bay Area. He was my only connection. I had left all of my friends, family and networks on the East Coast. Though I had a job when I came here, I had a burning desire to continue my activist work, I had been so well connected back in New Jersey, I was a domestic violence advocate who ran around going to meetings, attending political events and hosted 30 hour long marathons on public access television ( to witness this insanity go to <a href="https://vimeo.com/7478686" target="_blank"> https://vimeo.com/7478686 </a>for videos of the Princeton Megathon, which I hosted in 2009, you have been warned).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD_tyt0MY-NVIl5aoiVtC3SfYumbRzLJhdpG1joyi9OSAo8PLIXBbHKZDX1YUC5sLOrvrTiDhHimoChXA_4oI0BgGKRaYr_Fcs06QRpGdtr1Gs9uOk3vHmhjKxUmw_oc5P9qdJAtLAQIO/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-05-03+at+12.45.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD_tyt0MY-NVIl5aoiVtC3SfYumbRzLJhdpG1joyi9OSAo8PLIXBbHKZDX1YUC5sLOrvrTiDhHimoChXA_4oI0BgGKRaYr_Fcs06QRpGdtr1Gs9uOk3vHmhjKxUmw_oc5P9qdJAtLAQIO/s320/Screen+shot+2013-05-03+at+12.45.02+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proof that I've always been nuts, here is me hosting and being a crazy cat lady at 1 in the morning </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All of which I left behind. In my first few months in the Bay Area, I was excited but pretty lost. I had no idea how I would reconnect back to activism. How I would reconnect with no connection, with no friends or contacts to guide my way.<br />
<br />
Now three years later I really could not be busier (seriously). These past three weeks have for me, been a whirlwind of that pretty sums up where I am in my work and activism right now. Last weekend I was asked to present a workshop at the ASPIRE empowering migrants conference at UC Berkeley. It was a conference with a focus on immigration and undocumented migrants. I have to say I had a great time, there's nothing I love better than talking for an hour (jk...sorta). My workshop was on how to utilize social media to tell our stories and how those stories can impact the issue on higher levels. My dear friend, Javier was there to record it, so maybe I will be able to post it up if I don't sound too crazy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsIL1j86IrTUxyemrofaYppkwsnzj3Je77h5dsB1LsVlUl71wTOQa6WW4IgbazvdI9zySPuzE_y6e2sCW2zJi9EI1nM7_-WXLERWYlqzXdvExQqQLrTd4C6kTHhgCVrbGP6-NAo56TRr4/s1600/IMG_3399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsIL1j86IrTUxyemrofaYppkwsnzj3Je77h5dsB1LsVlUl71wTOQa6WW4IgbazvdI9zySPuzE_y6e2sCW2zJi9EI1nM7_-WXLERWYlqzXdvExQqQLrTd4C6kTHhgCVrbGP6-NAo56TRr4/s320/IMG_3399.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The cool thing about the panel was how the participants opened up about their own personal stories and what part immigration has played in their lives. In all the work I do, connecting with people is probably my favorite part. Everyone starts off as a stranger, but it's cool to get bits and pieces of someones background, of why they are passionate and why they want to see change. My parents were immigrants who came to this country due to sibling sponsorship (something that is being<a href="http://colorlines.com/archives/2013/03/immigration_reform_may_throw_siblings_under_the_bus.html" target="_blank"> thrown out in the new Immigration Reform Bill</a>) and my boyfriend, Roberto immigrated to the US first as an undocumented immigrant due to escaping the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvadoran_Civil_War" target="_blank">genocide in El Salvador</a>, then become a Resident Alien for years before getting his citizenship by serving in the Marines. Our immigration stories fuel my passion behind this issue, and presenting in a workshop and continuing advocacy on thus is not just a social justice cause to me, it is my own story and the story of people I love.<br />
<br />
Immigration was also a central point at the 2013 <a href="http://saalt.org/" target="_blank">SAALT (South Asian Americans Leading Together)</a> <i>In Pursuit of Justice</i> Summit, which I attended 2 weeks ago. I covered the last SAALT summit in previous postings, <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/04/brown-people-stand-up-part-1_12.html" target="_blank">here </a>and <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/04/brown-people-stand-up-part-2.html" target="_blank">here</a> (it was two parts because it was awesome and because I love SAALT). I have been involved with this organization since 2008, so almost 5 years and what amazes me is not only the incredible work they do for the South Asian community throughout the country, but how it has also helped me create a national community; a community of activists, friends, mentors and people I honestly consider a huge brown family (and if you know anything about brown families, you know they are HUGE). I don't know if other organizations have that personal feel while being such an influential and active organization. My friends and fellow activists and I got to hug, catch up and follow up with the amazing developments in our lives and organizations. For example, I caught up with my friend Javaid Tariq, the co-founder of the New York Taxi Workers Alliance. Javaid is someone I met at the last summit, and is now a dear friend who buys me pizza when I'm in Queens =). His organization is expanding rapidly, and making efforts to <a href="http://www.peoplesworld.org/austin-cabbies-affiliate-with-afl-cio/" target="_blank">open union chapters in cities all over the country</a>, it is inspiring to see the progress they have made and are making! I was also happy to be part of a pretty impressive showing of California-based activists, the Bay area rolled pretty deep this time, and it's great to see the West Coast come in to become increasingly involved with a greater South Asian based movement.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYV9KAYeYxDRANTGbeHsbERzSFKUB8dPV28fb3ueGW-jGIT2VqIzScTsivVmjTs_91WcdtxvxY9L4F-CmOweMXHxrNvPMiF_S44Y6TJbKCXaX_hXes09UpGjN42tESF8LIVnLD9ZJCZa7l/s1600/IMG_3285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYV9KAYeYxDRANTGbeHsbERzSFKUB8dPV28fb3ueGW-jGIT2VqIzScTsivVmjTs_91WcdtxvxY9L4F-CmOweMXHxrNvPMiF_S44Y6TJbKCXaX_hXes09UpGjN42tESF8LIVnLD9ZJCZa7l/s320/IMG_3285.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice little picstitch of my kickass South Asian activism weekend</td></tr>
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The Summit occurred on the heels of the Boston Marathon bombing and there was an air of uncertainty as to what the path ahead holds for our communities. Anti-Muslim sentiment has led directly to violence as seen in the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/08/politics-our-political-leaders-deserve-some-blame-sikh-shooting" target="_blank">Oak Creek shooting</a>, an incident that was a big part of what the summit covered. Two years ago when we last came together at the summit to commemorate the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, did we have any idea of the tragedy that would befall this community? As Sikh activists spoke about Oak Creek and reflected on the community that came together after the tragedy, I know that potential retaliations form the Boston bombings lay heavy on our minds. Only time will tell what the fall out from recent incidents will be, but regardless of what happens, we know that we have have friends and allies that will always have each others backs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahMicQFKgvJAJHlSSUe2Qy7OAOZy8H4hZxup45dTNVH8Um1DXkOXqD0l1dyZjJrfU16bSLabNOhIxtFj4RnXMTXJqQOz8TlBHkZnHO4iw8U3wQp9YP5M9dIMp4hhNgNbAjlwKCim7jifi/s1600/IMG_3587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahMicQFKgvJAJHlSSUe2Qy7OAOZy8H4hZxup45dTNVH8Um1DXkOXqD0l1dyZjJrfU16bSLabNOhIxtFj4RnXMTXJqQOz8TlBHkZnHO4iw8U3wQp9YP5M9dIMp4hhNgNbAjlwKCim7jifi/s320/IMG_3587.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With fellow activists outside of the Capitol</td></tr>
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The Monday of the summit, we had an Advocacy Day, where we visited legislative office on the Hill to advocate for issues impacted South Asian Americans. This time around, immigration was really on the forefront. My group and I visited<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Becerra" target="_blank"> Rep. Becerra's</a> (Congressman representing Downtown LA and neighboring areas), office. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/02/06/xavier-becerra-dreamers-pathway_n_2634314.html" target="_blank">Becerra is a already a supporter of progressive immigration reform</a>, he was an early proponent of the <a href="http://dreamact.info/" target="_blank">Dream Act</a> and came from a migrant family background himself. Though it's great to have advocates on our behalf in Congress, outreaching to republican offices and reaching across the aisle has always been a much more complicated task, but one I hope that we can undertake as our communities look to impact the more troublesome aspects of immigration reform. <br />
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I barely had time to catch my breath during this DC trip, especially since the weekend before I had spent the entire weekend in Sacramento for the State Democratic convention. I was a proxy delegate there (every State Assembly district has a delegates to represent their area to the state convention). That was also an interesting weekend, though understandably not even close to being as crazy as the Democratic National Convention, which to this day is one of the craziest things I have ever been a part of (crazy in a good way of course ;-) ). At the convention, I was pretty stoked to be elected as <a href="http://www.apicaucus.com/" target="_blank">Northern California Secretary of the API caucus</a> and was also elected as the Director of Communications for the California Young Dems Muslim American Caucus.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUeAaupfbw_Nm60xfRTCOKHs0nfkYPZz0L63b3FK9PVFeaGa880oZ5e3LbShpu3YIeL6iEqyXSoca7ZmV0Mx1CYKkYkKbCR3X5GijhcU7Or-blCVR-HJnuo3fxG9vuQgXAGVNRXg_yILja/s1600/IMG_3133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUeAaupfbw_Nm60xfRTCOKHs0nfkYPZz0L63b3FK9PVFeaGa880oZ5e3LbShpu3YIeL6iEqyXSoca7ZmV0Mx1CYKkYkKbCR3X5GijhcU7Or-blCVR-HJnuo3fxG9vuQgXAGVNRXg_yILja/s320/IMG_3133.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also I drank apple juice with Congressman Mike Honda during karaoke woohoo!</td></tr>
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Am I doing too much? Maybe. But the point is I WANT to be involved in all of this and am learning so much. It's all part of my crazy process. I am glad to be a part of all of it, and I am sure down the line, I will focus more and maybe do just one thing ( haha yea right). I care about everything I do very deeply, and I am trying to get to the core of the work I want to do and the impact I want to have. Human beings have constantly been pondering the meaning of their existence, why they're here and what they are meant to do. I have no answers whatsoever, but at least I am searching, and hopefully having a positive impact on the greater human race. I suppose that is my end goal and all of this, these workshops, panels, conferences, political stuff is the path I am choosing (or maybe it's choosing me?) to get there. So far it has been a fulfilling one. S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-73011862527412480962013-02-21T23:03:00.000-08:002013-02-22T13:02:40.990-08:00Valentine's Day and One Billion RisingValentine's Day was about a week ago and I can't help but reflect on this interesting holiday. It is one that people either love or hate or plain feel indifferent about. It's commercialized, but what holiday isn't? I mean isn't every major holiday, from Christmas-to Halloween- to Easter a huge payday for some corporation?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLh8yrA3R1GfoNOGS5o6Uwf1w8KxPJg7OecoJZoW9iE4U4M19wIGuwAIBZzQya_S-QpCU5M-BJXRro2xuivT0OiFP7GHtZut-_bQ6w9CRuLQmbYlQ3GRLQLIvFcrWRaa79LXeHGHcSeo/s1600/valentine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLh8yrA3R1GfoNOGS5o6Uwf1w8KxPJg7OecoJZoW9iE4U4M19wIGuwAIBZzQya_S-QpCU5M-BJXRro2xuivT0OiFP7GHtZut-_bQ6w9CRuLQmbYlQ3GRLQLIvFcrWRaa79LXeHGHcSeo/s320/valentine.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YEA, FIGHT THE POWER...but can we also fight self-righteousness?</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Even knowing that, I was never actually cynical about the holiday. As a 28 year old in the Bay Area, I feel like the cool thing to do is scoff at everything Valentine's related. But I actually enjoy the day, whether I'm single or not. As a kid I loved getting all those cards at elementary school parties. I would snip out the cartoon characters for self made art projects. Yet the best part of all of that was the CANDY, more specifically the CHOCOLATE. My love for chocolate, especially for chocolate on Valentine's day increased exponentially with time. When I got to college, my love for chocolate became a self-proclaimed holiday. My college friends would recall that I called Valentines Day "Chocolate Overdose Day" (C.O.D for short). I loooved Chocolate Overdose Day (almost as much as I loved Doughnut Day). Since I spent most of my college life (and most of my life overall) single, I would grab my single buddies, give them chocolate, ignore the canoodling couples, and go out to dinner. It was amazing. The more my friends learned of Chocolate Overdose Day, the more chocolate I got. I got macaroons, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies that were dyed red for the holiday (thanks Arshad!) and one time my friend swiped me into the college dining hall in the middle of a blizzard just so I could eat ALL the chocolate they had out for their theme dinner. I stalked chocolate fountains, I ripped into Godiva boxes, I became a chocolate bandit that jacked candy from free student events. Epic chocolate WIN ya'll, that's what Valentines Day meant to me.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://tomsimpsonsmellz.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/chocolate1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://tomsimpsonsmellz.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/chocolate1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dude, this guy is real...so random...</td></tr>
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But things change, as they tend to do, and I have been in a relationship for almost 4 years now. That means that I've actually had a Valentine and celebrated it as so. It is nice to share the holiday that is supposedly for lovers with a romantic partner, especially since it's sort of a novel experience for me to share it that way. <br />
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But Valentines Day changed yet again for me a few years ago. It changed for me when I became a part of Yoni Ki Baat (YKB), the South Asian Vagina monologues. I blogged about my experiences with the show <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/03/creative-process.html" target="_blank">before</a>, and how special it was for me. I worked as a domestic violence advocate at a non-profit that works with South Asian women prior to moving to California and since then, women's issues, particularly issues relating to violence against women have held a very heavy place in my heart. YKB really introduced me to the world of the Vagina Monologues and the amazing works and efforts of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eve_Ensler" target="_blank">Eve Ensler.</a> This show was a way to express our thoughts, our sufferings, our voices as women through poems, monologues and shows. It was a way to unite women and girls and express ourselves to a larger audience who came to hear <i>our</i> voices. So I was very excited to find out about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/V_Day" target="_blank">V Day</a>, a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls that was started by Eve Ensler. I really appreciate it's placement of Valentines day, as it juxtaposes a day meant to celebrate love with a day of remembrance for those who have been violated, abused and killed in acts that occur in the absence of love.<br />
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<a href="http://media-cache-ec4.pinterest.com/550x/64/e1/6d/64e16d0211ce1b8d9948c9bb049c77b7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cache-ec4.pinterest.com/550x/64/e1/6d/64e16d0211ce1b8d9948c9bb049c77b7.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
So this Valentine's Day, I joined in V-Day's <a href="http://onebillionrising.org/" target="_blank">One Billion Rising movement</a> in Oakland's City Hall. One billion Rising was an international gathering of people in honor of V-Day. According to their website "On February 14, 2013, a one-day event was held, a call for one billion
women around the world to join together to dance in a show of collective
strength" and was held on the 15th anniversary of the V-Day movement. I came to the city hall grounds alone, not sure what to expect. I saw a sea of red, a sea of men, women and children who had all comes to join in on this campaign. And I danced. Yea I had no idea what I was doing, supposedly there was a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fwv16dtUvYM" target="_blank">Youtube video</a> put out by the organization on how to do the dance (I totally missed the memo). Regardless I danced on the steps of Oakland City hall. But this is the weird thing. As I was dancing, I suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion. If anything, I think public dancing is silly, so where the hell was all the emotion coming from? Maybe it, was the song, which was pretty uplifting. Or the video I saw earlier that day of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QS_EUSCEcwM" target="_blank">female inmates dancing</a> with One Billion Rising volunteers at an SF prison. I couldn't forget how happy they were to do a simple dance together ( Bureau of justice statistics have shown that nearly 6 in 10 women in prison have suffered physical or sexual abuse in the past).<br />
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/QS_EUSCEcwM/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QS_EUSCEcwM&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QS_EUSCEcwM&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Seriously, take out 3:48 minutes of your day to watch this video, it<span style="font-size: small;">'ll</span> make your face leak</span></div>
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Maybe it was just all of us women just throwing our hands in the air, dancing in unison as an enthusiastic crowd cheered us on and took pictures. I'm sure there's a super awkward video of doing the wrong dance moves out there somewhere. In that moment, all of the work I have done regarding violence against women just came rolling onto me. All of the stories and tears I heard firsthand from being a domestic violence counselor, the pain I saw in my own home, the stories I read every day of rape, and violence and gang rapes and women not getting paid enough and our reproductive rights being stomped on and abortion rights being chipped away and legitimate rape and birth control control being an issue because old white men say no, ALL of <i>that</i> just caught up with me...and for a few moments I really though I was going to start bawling hysterically in front of all these people. I didn't want to be a buzzkill, I also didn't want my blubbering face to go viral on Youtube, so I just held it in. The point is, I never thought that something as a simple as a 3-4 minute dance with a group of strangers in red could be so powerful, but it was.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z9eB2GBQKmU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> OHMIGOD, I JUST found the video of me awkwardly dancing!! HAHAHA You can see me to the right side dancing at the top of the steps. I'm t<span style="font-size: x-small;">he one</span> w<span style="font-size: x-small;">e</span>aring <span style="font-size: x-small;">a </span>black and white striped<span style="font-size: x-small;"> dress dancing totally <span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">out of sync</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">with</span> everyone else</span></span></span></div>
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Later, my boyfriend joined in and watched other dancers who joined the show for V-Day. they were wonderful and talented, and it felt amazing to be with him to experience this on Valentines day.<br />
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Later on, the bf and I did end up getting dinner at an amazing place called Pizzaiolo, where I ate myself silly and yes...had an amazing chocolate mousse.<br />
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I bring up the dinner and my boyfriend because V-Day also makes me realize how lucky I am to have a partner who is not violent in any form. One who loves and respects me and lets me buy as much dessert and port wine as I want on Valentines day without complaining. One who uplifts me and loves that I am an empowered woman. But most of all, I am grateful that he actually joined me at the One Billion Rising event because I asked him to come. I am glad that my partner in love supports an end to violence against women ( and men), and I couldn't ask for a better Valentine's Day than that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacnkWO1rsCFIL1eAEa-RF-bj_ftX71OIJnaRxfXMl-GSyM8GBghXahVih2XBza0DeQznMTMwIP9vsU0sMFTev0kt65hrlDbLIAUya3_yTONcW7f0IikydYfVkC-6oyPYIkx3tAHA5bazG/s1600/Rob+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacnkWO1rsCFIL1eAEa-RF-bj_ftX71OIJnaRxfXMl-GSyM8GBghXahVih2XBza0DeQznMTMwIP9vsU0sMFTev0kt65hrlDbLIAUya3_yTONcW7f0IikydYfVkC-6oyPYIkx3tAHA5bazG/s320/Rob+and+I.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Activism, love, remembrance and coal oven pizza...my idea of a great V-Day and Valentine's Day</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-89365856657766459572013-01-17T22:23:00.001-08:002013-01-17T22:49:39.860-08:002013...let the awesomeness commenceTwo weeks into 2013 and so much has happened. I wonder if this entire year will be like this. 2012 was a totally insane year. A "I can't believe all this happened year". My head is still spinning and it's already 2013. Last year I went to<a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/03/greetings-from-vietnam.html" target="_blank"> Vietnam</a> after an <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/02/warm-n-fuzzy-fundraising-story.html" target="_blank">insane fundraising effort</a>, THEN was elected to go to the <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/10/to-dnc-and-back.html" target="_blank">Democratic National Convention</a>, which was insanely awesome. I went from starting 2012 with two part-time non-profit jobs and no health insurance and to working full time at my organization, <a href="http://www.chaaweb.org/" target="_blank">Community Health for Asian Americans</a>, where I work as a Youth Coordinator for Southeast Asian Young Leaders (SEAYL). I get to inspire the next generation!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-mdvVpLg1L8kX9vYGA-k5894YD46kbNZpTunTH-CE3KTHQXpWBcsiRMaEcTxeb8-HMzzSBqnlg_2kpfKsQHGbAeqMFiOav6otFKSyvzXPALXOMEG7ZMGMYFLP8MvD-Ae9o_J_qCUFImO/s1600/yippee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-mdvVpLg1L8kX9vYGA-k5894YD46kbNZpTunTH-CE3KTHQXpWBcsiRMaEcTxeb8-HMzzSBqnlg_2kpfKsQHGbAeqMFiOav6otFKSyvzXPALXOMEG7ZMGMYFLP8MvD-Ae9o_J_qCUFImO/s320/yippee.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my reaction to this year</td></tr>
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<br />
2012 was also the year where I started <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/nadia-hussain" target="_blank">blogging for Hyphen magazine</a> and saw the inspiring growth of the Black Young Democrats of the East Bay and greatly increased diversity in young Democrat organizing in the East Bay. 2012 was the year I connected with former black panther founder and legend Bobby Seale to do an event, and also became part of an amazing class of young leaders as part of the<a href="http://newleaderscouncil.org/sanfrancisco/institute-alumni/" target="_blank"> San Francisco New Leaders Council 2012 class</a>. I've met so many new and utterly inspiring people, and have become involved in so many wonderful things that really....oh wait my head is spinning again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzPsnrBdck8_WCWUhLEYnqSIOAjfhi4MAJ6CwDJFlC65Gv1yn08zAh3D4ErvC5xvWBiXVRammO4NhIZ21kQr4NL-XCHWZ7NJRV_fgG03Ee1tLtuDOQ9_2YF6nhdQymG6cp5vEiczgQ7G-/s1600/Freaking-Out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzPsnrBdck8_WCWUhLEYnqSIOAjfhi4MAJ6CwDJFlC65Gv1yn08zAh3D4ErvC5xvWBiXVRammO4NhIZ21kQr4NL-XCHWZ7NJRV_fgG03Ee1tLtuDOQ9_2YF6nhdQymG6cp5vEiczgQ7G-/s320/Freaking-Out.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But 2012 also had its difficult and somber moments. This was the year I met and lost my friend Travis Morgado to the War in Afghanistan, an experience <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/06/saying-goodbye.html" target="_blank">I blogged about a few times</a>. I am so glad I was able to meet him and connect with his beautiful family, who have shown me much support in return. I also lost my friend <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-memoriam-for-my-friend-yvette.html" target="_blank">Yvette at the onset of the year</a> and my <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/07/28-years-on-this-planet.html" target="_blank">Barbara Nanu</a>, an aunt who helped raise me as a child also passed away. I carry these losses with me always, I don't think people were really ever meant to 'get over', but we move on because what other choice do we really have? <br />
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So I come to 2013, who knows what this year will hold. Will it it be as utterly packed, emotional and insanely overwhelming as 2012? Probably. Already this year I ran to be an California Democratic Party Assembly delegate in my Assembly District, am continuing to help with organizing at my work against unjust labor practices and may be on the board of a great API organization and I am part of a groundbreaking International online art exhibit with a <a href="http://imow.org/exhibitions/Call_For_Submissions" target="_blank">ridiculously talented group of Muslim women artists at the International Museum of Women</a>, which will culminate in our March exhibit opening. Just the usual!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My fellow kick-butt Muslima artists and I!</td></tr>
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I have to say though, amongst all of these activities, I did find some time to really enjoy myself and be with people I love. This past holiday season and New Years was a heartwarming experience. I returned to the East Coast to hang out with my family back in Wilkes-Barre, PA, the small town where I went to high school. There I took photos for the Women's museum exhibit by connecting with my local mosque. It was the mosque I attended as a child and a teenager and a mosque that has helped out my parents during the most difficult times in our lives. <br />
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In the East coast I also got in touch with Vivek Bald, the author of Bengali Harlem (to find out more, or to purchase the book please go to <a href="http://bengaliharlem.com/">bengaliharlem.com</a>). This is a book that could not be closer to my heart. It details the hidden stories of Bangladeshi (and other South Asian) immigrants that came to the US in the early 20th century. My family is included in these stories, as my dear nana (who's life and death I <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2010/01/maybe-i-should-be-more-poetic.html" target="_blank">blogged about before)</a> and his brother, Ibrahim Chowdry were some of the <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/uptown/s-asians-forgotten-history-harlem-article-1.1242260" target="_blank">first Bangladeshi immigrants to come to New York City</a>, Ibrahim actually being the first Bangladeshi man in NYC. I have a feeling I will be writing another blog post soon about this topic, there is just so much to say about it. Let's just say that it inspired me to know that I had family doing community and social justice work in <i>this </i>country decades before I was even born!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQ-QidRGdbPghM4SS-NF7SBbIxsUhm0Jdbb66JFOiYNMrsfnmCcpfDDeK6zkKIYWZbMuOldoYK57BdrvsdiaAPfRVHF3oY08WDMNCzsoV8v6_cfMlZcy_uaJeK179eq-2nPvC5VTQMpFi/s1600/bengali18u-2-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQ-QidRGdbPghM4SS-NF7SBbIxsUhm0Jdbb66JFOiYNMrsfnmCcpfDDeK6zkKIYWZbMuOldoYK57BdrvsdiaAPfRVHF3oY08WDMNCzsoV8v6_cfMlZcy_uaJeK179eq-2nPvC5VTQMpFi/s1600/bengali18u-2-web.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My great grand uncle, community activist, my inspiration, Ibrahim Chowdry</td></tr>
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The holidays and New Years invigorated me. From ugly sweater parties, to gallivanting around New jersey and PA during a blizzard, to eating as much pizza as humanly possible (West Coast has some great stuff, but pizza isn't one of them!) to spending time with my boyfriends family in upstate New York, I felt energized to be around people who love me and believe in me, and I do think that I am lucky to have this on both coasts. I think that this is a very special element in my life, to find good people no matter where I go.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnoDMMNZ23-SJKcQWhm7h68WnU5DbfhaCtQtId9RiwAQ1p-TbrCdr2CTKSFkgjem7e8993UDGbwVeuaKUh-f-vC7WmbAj7IgvGymY11n5AFBqzp7w0aEYi6MmGBMHsw3iW-bRf5vKCxby/s1600/385298_10102213145051459_1093181350_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnoDMMNZ23-SJKcQWhm7h68WnU5DbfhaCtQtId9RiwAQ1p-TbrCdr2CTKSFkgjem7e8993UDGbwVeuaKUh-f-vC7WmbAj7IgvGymY11n5AFBqzp7w0aEYi6MmGBMHsw3iW-bRf5vKCxby/s320/385298_10102213145051459_1093181350_n.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my homeboys rocking our ugly sweater..except Paul, who doesn't do the ugly sweater thing</td></tr>
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So bring it on 2013! I will probably post less since I am so busy, but I will post nonetheless. My personal blog allows me to vent, ruminate and reflect on my life and I am glad to share that with my loved ones, friends and readers (all 5 of ya). I've looked at my earlier posts recently and realized that they were basically recounts of me banging my head in frustration about what to do with my life. At this point I am alright with the uncertainty, because honestly everything is uncertain, we just fool ourselves into thinking it isn't. I may not have solid plans but my goals are alive and well. Though I may never become an intergalactic ambassador from earth to other civilizations (hey, you never know!) I will continue to dream big, because well, what else is there to do really?<br />
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I wanted to end this post with something inspiring that happened to me recently. Last Saturday, on the Assembly delegate election day, I was surprised to arrive and see one of my friends already at the election, waiting for me. The reason I was surprised was because he is currently not a US citizen, so he cannot vote; he is still on his asylum status from Iran and has to wait another 3 years to vote. I was very happy to see him but asked him why he had gone through the trouble of coming out. "Because I wanted to support you and to be here if you needed help" he said responded.<br />
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I cannot express how touched I was by that experience. People who have immigrated to this country, who still cannot vote are willing to be involved and to help out. Even our own citizens often don't do that much. One of my co-workers, who is a permanent resident of Nepali background asked me if she could vote and support me as well. I was so moved by this. When people are anti-immigrant, I seriously want to just shake them into reality so they could understand that immigrants often love this country and contribute to this country more than anyone.<br />
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I am blessed to have experiences like this, and 2013 has only started. I only continue to be inspired =)<br />
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2012 over and out, big fat welcome to 2013!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I hope 2013 brings you lots of bear hugs!!!*</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> *<span style="font-size: x-small;">D</span>isclaimer: Nadia Won't Shut Up does not promote nor encourage the hugging of dangerous omnivorous wildlife</span><br />
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-78739475909448407482012-11-15T13:09:00.000-08:002012-11-15T13:23:09.398-08:00My 2012 Election Journey It's amazing how much has happened since my last post. I'm down to about a posting once a month due to my hectic schedule but sometimes I feel like so much happens in my life that I actually don't know what to pick to write about! I wonder if other bloggers ever have that problem....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">holding up signs and taking pictures takes up a lot of my time</td></tr>
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So there's the big recent news of President Obama winning the presidential election. Was I stoked? YES? Was I surprised? NO! People have been thanking me for my support of the president, but to tell the truth, I really don't know if I did as much as so many others. I have many friends who shipped themselves out to Nevada, Colorado even Ohio for a final election push for our President. I am proud that my mother, back in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania (where I went to high school) went out on her phone and phone banked for Obama religiously. My younger sister was also a super volunteer in Philadelphia, setting up phone banks and getting free buttons. I am immensely proud of both of them. My mother is currently on disability after living a tough life that was rife with very real abuses from the "system" and racist entities, but still she puts herself out there for her civic duties, to work hard for a President she believes in. How can I not be inspired by that?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go mom and little sis!! </td></tr>
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This is not just some pro-Obama post (well it sorta is), but this is also my slice of what this election meant for me. I have never been too involved in any presidential election before this one. Outside of my experiences earlier this fall as a delegate (which I outlined in <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/10/to-dnc-and-back.html" target="_blank">the previous post</a>), I also did a fair amount of blogging leading up to this election. I started blogging for <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/10/politics-aapis-leading-red-blue-charge" target="_blank">Hyphen magazine's blog</a> only this past April, but it gave me the opportunity to interview some great people and cover topics that I really care about. It also enabled me to share my writings with so many people through the power of the Internet and social media. Earlier this year, I was elected to be on the board of the <a href="http://www.ebyd.org/" target="_blank">East Bay Young Democrats (EBYD)</a>, a position I really had no experience with, but I did know that I wanted to bring more diversity to the table with this group, and help them reach out more to membership to be involved in political activities. Around the same time that I joined EBYD, I also helped start up the Black Young Democrats of the East Bay (BYDEB) as a founding board member. I was lucky to be part of an amazing team who wanted to see young Black people have a avenue for involvement, information and activism when it came to democratic politics in Oakland. It was so strange that a place like Oakland didn't have a group like this! Well they have one now =)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/480425_364230193659388_1446661287_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/480425_364230193659388_1446661287_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BYDEB board with Supervisor Keith Carson</td></tr>
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I didn't start 2012 with the goal of being more involved involved with the Democratic party or with the elections. Politics is a passion for me, I just find it so interesting, but I didn't expect all of this. I almost feel like it just happened, and I went along for the ride. It's been a good ride, I feel like I've learned so much - the good, the bad and the ugly. I've also made some amazing memories and friends, so I am grateful for it all. I don't really know where any of this will lead. People have asked me if I ever think about running for office. Well yea, I do think about that, but I also think about running a small goat cheese-making farm one day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS7MTZGlS3TbRHHqZM4YGm6icTysP-VHOsQ5xAhoWBMLc-TTB_g" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS7MTZGlS3TbRHHqZM4YGm6icTysP-VHOsQ5xAhoWBMLc-TTB_g" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one day....</td></tr>
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The point is, I don't know maybe? yes? no? maybe so? I may need a magic 8 ball but as of now I just want to go with the flow and keep learning and experiencing as much as I can when it comes to this world. But I can also walk away from it and I am glad that as of now I still have that space.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, ride away from politics like a badass cowboy in the sunset (probably not gonna happen though)</td></tr>
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But more than anything I am so DAMN EXCITED. This election cycle saw some really exciting wins for Congress, especially when it comes to adding diversity to congress and the <a href="http://nbclatino.com/2012/11/12/election-2012-takeaway-diversity-here-to-stay/" target="_blank">undeniable impact of minority voters on election results</a>. This is the <a href="http://www.examiner.com/article/largest-asian-pacific-american-delegation-to-u-s-congress" target="_blank">most diverse Congress ever</a>, with a record number of women now serving in the Senate. There was even <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/2chambers/wp/2012/11/14/klobuchar-talks-about-historic-bathroom-moment-for-women-in-senate/" target="_blank">a line in the Senate women's bathroom for the first time.</a> For the first time, I think that a line to a women's bathroom is awesome.<br />
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The country is getting more and more diverse, I keep citing this fact in other writings, <a href="http://inamerica.blogs.cnn.com/2012/05/17/census-2011-data-confirm-trend-of-population-diversity/" target="_blank">but the 2010 census has already shown that over 50% of children under the age of one in the US are non-Caucasion.</a> I spoke about these developments and statistics regarding women and minorities<a href="http://www.kpfa.org/archive/id/85987" target="_blank"> in a radio interview on APEX Express</a> on the local radio station KPFA, if you are interested in learning more (I come on at the 00:12:20 mark). We're taking over, and you're coming with us....whether you like it or not (hopefully you like it!). We still have a long way to go, but I do believe we can look to improve our society together. <br />
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So I am really looking forward to these paradigm shifts, I am excited to not just witness it, but be a PART of it, and be involved and get others to be involved in making sure our voices are heard and that communities are not left behind. <br />
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-81559781073586799802012-10-03T04:33:00.001-07:002012-10-03T12:36:45.709-07:00To the DNC and Back<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4unmwpQm12pM948zjGm-TX16LQu66zv_8m7b3ibNjc0kIdNbX7_W4cnKzRUGwbX_CZXRDj9yIJPs9rcmVb3cPeGdAA7ZFk-RmdHvRbPFXbnzZUmyqittOyB4pQFc5KdXLdJ_DR_dzF8b/s1600/296802_10101925251497449_152400398_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4unmwpQm12pM948zjGm-TX16LQu66zv_8m7b3ibNjc0kIdNbX7_W4cnKzRUGwbX_CZXRDj9yIJPs9rcmVb3cPeGdAA7ZFk-RmdHvRbPFXbnzZUmyqittOyB4pQFc5KdXLdJ_DR_dzF8b/s320/296802_10101925251497449_152400398_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look ma! I'm at the DNC!</td></tr>
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I haven't even written a post during the entire month of September. It's probably because I was too overwhelmed writing for other blogs, like <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/09/politics-tale-convention-delegate" target="_blank">Hyphen</a> and <a href="http://muslimsforobama.com/for-pluralism-and-diversity/" target="_blank">Muslims for Obama</a> (you can click on the links to check out the articles) <br />
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But I can sum up the DNC in one word, it would be the word 'surreal'. Where else do you spend a week in a proverbial political bubble with an amazingly diverse group of super excited delegates, random celebrities, politicians and media figures? Just walking around like its no big thing. Plus I had a delegates pass which gave me VIP access through some pretty crazy demilitarized zone -type security.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHLUnLblgCsVDIT2UvxO38UQeOwEMGe9NWkcguRbiTjClc_KHU6pdOLrmbTFZC6dAcRiw1NBcLIuNDr3JAmpkqP5ENiJK6gQkydfFRuEvROUtk9ALSAU3MltT_ZyvO1XpS7Tp55sVh8nI/s1600/10513_10101925262575249_1855956715_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHLUnLblgCsVDIT2UvxO38UQeOwEMGe9NWkcguRbiTjClc_KHU6pdOLrmbTFZC6dAcRiw1NBcLIuNDr3JAmpkqP5ENiJK6gQkydfFRuEvROUtk9ALSAU3MltT_ZyvO1XpS7Tp55sVh8nI/s320/10513_10101925262575249_1855956715_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously...zombie apocalypse status</td></tr>
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I am so grateful that I was able to experience it. It's strange, even a year ago, I would never have imagined that I would have gone to something like that. I didn't even know the process of getting into an event like that. My article in Hyphen pretty much outlined my excitement about being a California delegate to the convention, so I don't feel like repeating it. Instead, I will share my DNC experiences with you through a timeline mash up of my tweets, excited Facebook statuses and instragram photos. Yup, I was social media'ing up a storm...seriously, I took over everyones newsfeeds for a week..<br />
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And now I present to you Nadia's Official DNC Timeline!!<br />
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<span class="userContent">Day 1- </span><span class="userContent">Monday, Sept 3, 2012 </span></div>
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<span class="userContent">10:00am: Posing with my Delegates pass at the Cal Dems Breakfast!! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwU9ALcahq_nUB1O8Sn-75E-Z5j05o1xMg6ahE1hZdQ7I01rWKhhzgD0dViNgwuD9gSgpXGkPiErJpAW4OwzwqCZXJH0Oe2hyDpbHhPCk9QglHJF9I0aQG-3yZIOXQ9emTCPbruouW_Ca/s1600/422779_10101900922857239_531664791_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwU9ALcahq_nUB1O8Sn-75E-Z5j05o1xMg6ahE1hZdQ7I01rWKhhzgD0dViNgwuD9gSgpXGkPiErJpAW4OwzwqCZXJH0Oe2hyDpbHhPCk9QglHJF9I0aQG-3yZIOXQ9emTCPbruouW_Ca/s320/422779_10101900922857239_531664791_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loved my poof</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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12:00pm: Then went to API caucus and got to meet some awesome API's running for Congress!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFKxKk4urrThsD3rEpcbBzbZnA9Wb12Zsrir0oVoZeadK8Cd1eSbvifsJ3qZMH-uGVU8s8Re2kaM0ndcCaANggexGbIqva4_5eJ8OkblkUkz0Z549lIgVwBDl9u9xEN6eFMsJyAR7i8QO/s1600/422812_10101925261876649_1767529336_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFKxKk4urrThsD3rEpcbBzbZnA9Wb12Zsrir0oVoZeadK8Cd1eSbvifsJ3qZMH-uGVU8s8Re2kaM0ndcCaANggexGbIqva4_5eJ8OkblkUkz0Z549lIgVwBDl9u9xEN6eFMsJyAR7i8QO/s320/422812_10101925261876649_1767529336_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to Right: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tulsi_Gabbard" target="_blank">Tulsi Gabbard</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tammi_Duckworth" target="_blank">the utterly badass Tammi Duckworth</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otto_Lee" target="_blank">Otto Lee</a></td></tr>
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12:30pm: Ran into the Reverand Jesse Jackson<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg844pxjZhxfDTrpqJ1dtVmucpZbbmy5Kjnc6hMXyAUSzGB2qznbbff9NiUWBhU13pmnjPxR1nwnmvkaYhbDAZOm-zlKiPpDZEt54GdVw6rV29B2uoYrNiNWuF5c0w5ltqiCeDFfVaGE48e/s1600/540094_10101925448313029_641764474_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg844pxjZhxfDTrpqJ1dtVmucpZbbmy5Kjnc6hMXyAUSzGB2qznbbff9NiUWBhU13pmnjPxR1nwnmvkaYhbDAZOm-zlKiPpDZEt54GdVw6rV29B2uoYrNiNWuF5c0w5ltqiCeDFfVaGE48e/s320/540094_10101925448313029_641764474_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't say hi though, just stalked him</td></tr>
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1:00pm: Decided to stop by the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/oasis/" target="_blank">Huffington Post Oasis</a>, where Arianna Huffington showed me around and I did yoga...in free yoga clothes..that I got to keep...also got free kalamata olives<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOOXsNh4o2tSatViZWu6YUvpflDOJ1-xnwELfKdKhmHAsZWwogJdQQbwn40yo2AHIb_MD-iWjdz1egsVXDRTaY_pNpyRzd3KdvzCa-ymR0Vp5xn_egAHXAJODinUAECNlNymaIRhTomsg/s1600/422967_10101925449076499_701107531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOOXsNh4o2tSatViZWu6YUvpflDOJ1-xnwELfKdKhmHAsZWwogJdQQbwn40yo2AHIb_MD-iWjdz1egsVXDRTaY_pNpyRzd3KdvzCa-ymR0Vp5xn_egAHXAJODinUAECNlNymaIRhTomsg/s320/422967_10101925449076499_701107531_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arianna Huffington, you da woman</td></tr>
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10:00pm: Went to the APIA Vote party where I hung out with Congressman Mike Honda and the actor from Heroes<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zjj8G6tDyDBiTg7IFfK6nX8CZ9dE-5i0y32GK0gDcL2tH21oe1XpKQpbUk-0b-iBUDkvmZGhnQ2w2bhfNuwkND5vb6ZEtDSBtMipb9EoQ2Vb-OOX4d0Xo5cSEkvnpbwrYvKVnm1qqO0B/s1600/550482_10101925254661109_567319450_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zjj8G6tDyDBiTg7IFfK6nX8CZ9dE-5i0y32GK0gDcL2tH21oe1XpKQpbUk-0b-iBUDkvmZGhnQ2w2bhfNuwkND5vb6ZEtDSBtMipb9EoQ2Vb-OOX4d0Xo5cSEkvnpbwrYvKVnm1qqO0B/s320/550482_10101925254661109_567319450_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my goals in life is to sing karaoke with him</td></tr>
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11:30pm: On my way out of the party I run into a John Legend concert...how does anyone run into a John Legend concert? Told you Charlotte was cray...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj4VLIXxoYyLepzxIlAbL1Lop8lRb-x_mVlPef32lcvjF8Ol6VpzA0vBlQFxG632Slv7-irEGiiyVp3Nu_1VwfAkc8Sph8CdBYf-qKdzIXKmiewdp3ObdCrOsDqh-QdWDuWtXuuAX4dfW/s1600/303148_10101925255050329_1850237616_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj4VLIXxoYyLepzxIlAbL1Lop8lRb-x_mVlPef32lcvjF8Ol6VpzA0vBlQFxG632Slv7-irEGiiyVp3Nu_1VwfAkc8Sph8CdBYf-qKdzIXKmiewdp3ObdCrOsDqh-QdWDuWtXuuAX4dfW/s320/303148_10101925255050329_1850237616_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a talented artist! Absolutely amazing live!</td></tr>
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12:00am: ended the night hanging out with delegates, when I discovered that my swag bag had a stuffed donkey...it made my night</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcWc180j1MHBzXLudu79fvaYGlNOqx_IXlnB1ZmuuuGc4tYwiSC8L4V3T6lGyy1HDGkNrGsWaqjP2ifhUisp5LW-OjNlQRY0sA_1m6TM2UAmo1cZAyPNwA3pmKku8AM3CIPWX-dFjgwPx/s1600/398978_10101925449226199_1923671241_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcWc180j1MHBzXLudu79fvaYGlNOqx_IXlnB1ZmuuuGc4tYwiSC8L4V3T6lGyy1HDGkNrGsWaqjP2ifhUisp5LW-OjNlQRY0sA_1m6TM2UAmo1cZAyPNwA3pmKku8AM3CIPWX-dFjgwPx/s320/398978_10101925449226199_1923671241_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and I named him Roberto</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">Day 2- </span><span class="userContent">Tuesday, Sept 4, 2012 </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">10:00am: </span><span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">Moderated a Persecution of Religious
Minorities Panel organized by the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/07/politics-muslims-gain-seats-dems-big-tent-convention" target="_blank">American Muslim Alliance</a> with Muslim Congressman <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andre_Carson" target="_blank">Andre Carson</a>, members of the
Sikh Community and other civil rights leaders. It was nuts, I didn't even know Congressman Carson would stop by! So glad he did though, he was awesome!</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">12:00pm: Hung out again at the Huffington Post Oasis with my delegate buddy, Aidan...I just couldn't stay away! They fed me for free and I got to watch Arianna Huffington interview world famous chef, Marcus Samuelsson.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCUIlaF9Ba5GnIkuebghT9JeabxHx6-aBR4-0CMfjxlU1AbMn6CWjWAZ9C0k6v1ftxHGVU9kfM1ckGNlO6PEgcOt1nZBvPP2LmG1y3XWVTdN95AV2U2fggDFggl7cg0EQ-LbUtV3ZO7HH/s1600/297865_10101925255699029_1349538123_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCUIlaF9Ba5GnIkuebghT9JeabxHx6-aBR4-0CMfjxlU1AbMn6CWjWAZ9C0k6v1ftxHGVU9kfM1ckGNlO6PEgcOt1nZBvPP2LmG1y3XWVTdN95AV2U2fggDFggl7cg0EQ-LbUtV3ZO7HH/s320/297865_10101925255699029_1349538123_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arianna Huffington is such a G</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">4:30pm-11pm: Finally got to the convention center to see Newark Mayor Cory Booker TEAR IT UP. Was inspired to name my future son Julian after<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_Castro" target="_blank"> San Antonio Mayor Julian Castro's</a> speech, and ended the night with FLOTUS Michelle Obama's speech! We LOVED Michelle!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXWsL4WkYrUygvQhhD6p_ol4MGdmG9jxz6lFSBSIfPhFI9WGPbEJ5uf5zesH5LCW8XrH5Xd8VwCYeifpI1fgImpc1SIvBEHCLfy-FT8Bjf9lBMqUkinTdxldPN13bccpWxxs5oVMHAjgs/s1600/419236_10101925258288839_961293225_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXWsL4WkYrUygvQhhD6p_ol4MGdmG9jxz6lFSBSIfPhFI9WGPbEJ5uf5zesH5LCW8XrH5Xd8VwCYeifpI1fgImpc1SIvBEHCLfy-FT8Bjf9lBMqUkinTdxldPN13bccpWxxs5oVMHAjgs/s320/419236_10101925258288839_961293225_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FLOTUS! FLOTUS!</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">11:30pm: Off to the Planned Parenthood afterparty! Where I ran into Aisha Tyler and Ashley Judd.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnr_7jZgqXIHgQT25QA1nqxd_NShe1L4kohHYEOGCp1QdntsNigSd9rukdTfCIFkaDCcbl03NfjWka63YE6Fz32auTtexWGOx2An65aP5kxFeozs9W00QT0R7LHV8NFyCLV0QBvxN_Cz9/s1600/644196_10101925249526399_429200495_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnr_7jZgqXIHgQT25QA1nqxd_NShe1L4kohHYEOGCp1QdntsNigSd9rukdTfCIFkaDCcbl03NfjWka63YE6Fz32auTtexWGOx2An65aP5kxFeozs9W00QT0R7LHV8NFyCLV0QBvxN_Cz9/s320/644196_10101925249526399_429200495_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I liked the theme of this party, go Planned Parenthood!</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">Day 3- </span><span class="userContent">Wednesday, Sept 4, 2012 </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">11:00am - It's my press day, but first I ran into Mayor Villaigaroisa at breakfast. The press thought I was his handler.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDHxTdHKyABKzotRweuDJWUNmf1UZ7eZaJs2VPaocm2LO3Ka3pZCT4TzfKBpk6QiDqERvP6jEBbmNPo__CYHdXCw0VUjFnFvMF2lVsDTJcVV2WIrPRRIgCtP88eo7eukoaNrMQrdynQam/s1600/292899_10101925448208239_1909654779_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDHxTdHKyABKzotRweuDJWUNmf1UZ7eZaJs2VPaocm2LO3Ka3pZCT4TzfKBpk6QiDqERvP6jEBbmNPo__CYHdXCw0VUjFnFvMF2lVsDTJcVV2WIrPRRIgCtP88eo7eukoaNrMQrdynQam/s320/292899_10101925448208239_1909654779_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should have just pretended to be his handler...VIP BABY!</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">11:30am- Waiting to board the shuttle when I run into this dude, outside the hotel texting</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7ptuC5guV4S1XBcbFB8wbXiT_7-VdfxZwV6bFCa83rewkGQGSqPSEmLB1My-ocIFZ0VB-p3DV9v5Fj-BzMLJUhPz-kNLAuVIXlAxHJPLrKIZaMmB3PcHUiTEGTjG4GP1m5RYaCwst377/s1600/557456_10101925449011629_214737929_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7ptuC5guV4S1XBcbFB8wbXiT_7-VdfxZwV6bFCa83rewkGQGSqPSEmLB1My-ocIFZ0VB-p3DV9v5Fj-BzMLJUhPz-kNLAuVIXlAxHJPLrKIZaMmB3PcHUiTEGTjG4GP1m5RYaCwst377/s320/557456_10101925449011629_214737929_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that is Kumar...I mean Kal Penn</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">12:30pm: Headed to the press hangout to be interviewed by <a href="http://alhurra.com/" target="_blank">Al Hurrah</a> televison and radio. They broadcast me live in Dubai and the rest of the Arab speaking word answering questions about Muslims in America. It was nuts, especially becauseI was talking to an earpiece the whole time. Spent the rest of the day hanging out with journalists untill...</span></div>
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<span class="userContent">3:00pm: Just lost all of my notes at a Rite Aid somewhere, but it was SHOWTIME. Did my press briefing for the State Departments Foreign Press on Muslim Americans and Politics. Below is the video and <a href="http://fpc.state.gov/197413.htm" target="_blank">here's the transcript.</a></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Then I was all like "come at me bro!"(I think it's funny that I'm frozen in this pose on the State Dept. website)</span> </div>
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<span class="userContent">4:00pm - 11pm: Got to the Convention Center, where I signed my ballot to vote for President Obama as our Presidential nominee!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcmeaTkFKYjJDqpLX9LhIB0Adgf5d8qVui1RffCYvu6fFNaK3G1AZeV4afuFDwfk-3SWL0yNmW6N4hcXI2bvI0DuNtSFfmnwEU4mbP3N2Z5hcPXyXINeRahN5OiIf5A7pTCHYqrd6sGHk/s1600/375779_10101925449949749_2049524724_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcmeaTkFKYjJDqpLX9LhIB0Adgf5d8qVui1RffCYvu6fFNaK3G1AZeV4afuFDwfk-3SWL0yNmW6N4hcXI2bvI0DuNtSFfmnwEU4mbP3N2Z5hcPXyXINeRahN5OiIf5A7pTCHYqrd6sGHk/s320/375779_10101925449949749_2049524724_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really was that excited...so proud ::sniff sniff::</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">Then OHMIGOD I WAS ON CNN!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvBN-QIb0pouW1diJCx0s-m0tUZtOZ0Ujlp6ORTOMB2eE0fwfs21s_FqJIIpXmpSv52VWFYbMBFg-RA7rKmMjiZtsGJynk9MpPWhu6k_o0U4JTgCN57gqhwPpe3pQ_-2NBfSdkyzCprrk/s1600/395190_10101908836647939_850090664_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvBN-QIb0pouW1diJCx0s-m0tUZtOZ0Ujlp6ORTOMB2eE0fwfs21s_FqJIIpXmpSv52VWFYbMBFg-RA7rKmMjiZtsGJynk9MpPWhu6k_o0U4JTgCN57gqhwPpe3pQ_-2NBfSdkyzCprrk/s320/395190_10101908836647939_850090664_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oh snap</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">And I WAS ON CNN AGAIN!!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNNMtVgua0vBn3N_nsV6sBxYC5N8-YpzjduooCnA8_dPVRz3y6GfTz7Z1XrH9_Wkwl3ebgbRXQqiIsKyVGoALUGO8xVKyQmOJlXbNdwNMWkGuMBfgY3YbInnCwltNEJksrqz7DnYVaz2Fs/s1600/424679_10101925241737009_1465790379_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNNMtVgua0vBn3N_nsV6sBxYC5N8-YpzjduooCnA8_dPVRz3y6GfTz7Z1XrH9_Wkwl3ebgbRXQqiIsKyVGoALUGO8xVKyQmOJlXbNdwNMWkGuMBfgY3YbInnCwltNEJksrqz7DnYVaz2Fs/s1600/424679_10101925241737009_1465790379_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">there I go again....HELL YEA it's our choice!</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">The night was insane. I got so fired up I actually accidentally tore up my "Fired Up" sign in half. Bill Clinton stole the show though, the energy was so electric and the crowd was so pumped up I thought that stadium would come crashing down!</span></div>
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<span class="userContent">11:30pm: California Delegation Afterparty at the Nascar Hall of Fame, where I hung out with some cool Muslim dudes</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8oxnxD-gCcNuGfw7GcAlbr95Hmibb-1psFuJQBju4MHdO22pAbMlaOeY7RDOc30JgAjkrgsvnAyumRoO8Vc_-E-ozZEleWNRh9OnRKktFqpm1ddzW7cwiEnBzDLUq3FxtnyibKNA7r8P/s1600/307827_10101925449370909_1369544845_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8oxnxD-gCcNuGfw7GcAlbr95Hmibb-1psFuJQBju4MHdO22pAbMlaOeY7RDOc30JgAjkrgsvnAyumRoO8Vc_-E-ozZEleWNRh9OnRKktFqpm1ddzW7cwiEnBzDLUq3FxtnyibKNA7r8P/s320/307827_10101925449370909_1369544845_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent">And broke it down Bhangra style with Sikh delegates</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eX139yxP6i9matv24VsME1h6IXCsCDvmgki271GWRYLGX465vNAvq97BTLUxh41iLF36qBWwO0E3n78qCDxSCfLx4uQkKx6rV8X9Mrj8_bmbd34nDmciB-8Rj12AuvBgEct05rT9PwMn/s1600/217024_10151219766674252_1194164611_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eX139yxP6i9matv24VsME1h6IXCsCDvmgki271GWRYLGX465vNAvq97BTLUxh41iLF36qBWwO0E3n78qCDxSCfLx4uQkKx6rV8X9Mrj8_bmbd34nDmciB-8Rj12AuvBgEct05rT9PwMn/s320/217024_10151219766674252_1194164611_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm sure there are some youtube videos out there somewhere</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">Then I went back to my hotel room and passed out with my DNC donkey stuffed animal</span></div>
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<span class="userContent">Day 4- </span><span class="userContent">Thursday, Sept 5, 2012</span></div>
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<span class="userContent">11:00am It was the last day, I was heartbroken, but there was still cool stuff to do...like</span></div>
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<span class="userContent">The </span><span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"><a href="http://www.am-mdc.org/" target="_blank">American Muslim Democratic Caucus</a> with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keith_Ellison" target="_blank">Congressman Keith Ellison</a>, great group of inspirational Muslim leaders and delegates. Over 100 in all, up from just 24 in 2008!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJB5XOSrH80EXZjHJoouIFDS7ShyfAAfHESvB9aMaLPO_ViHJUQ41ytgnSmn5ogN_mhZvNmqsYc3SZNEGW_DneYsI8123VFueQkCFhDwE56yXa_v_dv2G3uXfliGNabpHm5tg7G9c_aWbG/s1600/488160_10101925253528379_1546187919_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJB5XOSrH80EXZjHJoouIFDS7ShyfAAfHESvB9aMaLPO_ViHJUQ41ytgnSmn5ogN_mhZvNmqsYc3SZNEGW_DneYsI8123VFueQkCFhDwE56yXa_v_dv2G3uXfliGNabpHm5tg7G9c_aWbG/s320/488160_10101925253528379_1546187919_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lady is related to Bill Clinton, and she had a sparkly hijab</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent">3:00pm Then back to the convention center! Where Marc Anthony sang the National Anthem and I got very giddy.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR21rYlgSdIQBFKhyGxJ_zYRb2xe7sTAoX_oPPq5TQnTE7wDdL5rODok4uMeSBvaE4F4RNStXcvKlf18u4tj1c2sg9nCwU6iHsY0XPlICboS1aQvGF0MNJvYiQAtHEWggGaORzx25YyX_I/s1600/246618_10101925242665149_1712710684_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR21rYlgSdIQBFKhyGxJ_zYRb2xe7sTAoX_oPPq5TQnTE7wDdL5rODok4uMeSBvaE4F4RNStXcvKlf18u4tj1c2sg9nCwU6iHsY0XPlICboS1aQvGF0MNJvYiQAtHEWggGaORzx25YyX_I/s320/246618_10101925242665149_1712710684_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who needs J Lo?</td></tr>
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Then I swayed to some James Taylor</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCI0LnYwxe-bgK9Dg1VFitkVKYcpwCDGIe72AEP_ADsLkG-MX18l-TXmI2OTQ3yunHCUl4KrH5TiTODAAXxCTMjBJM7Xrzx7wtV5lmJejvHGIsl5dWr7fIFdoMiZkNL22VvSTdxAjjYCk/s1600/183347_10101925242196089_502510634_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCI0LnYwxe-bgK9Dg1VFitkVKYcpwCDGIe72AEP_ADsLkG-MX18l-TXmI2OTQ3yunHCUl4KrH5TiTODAAXxCTMjBJM7Xrzx7wtV5lmJejvHGIsl5dWr7fIFdoMiZkNL22VvSTdxAjjYCk/s320/183347_10101925242196089_502510634_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(I wasn't even sure who James Taylor was...)</td></tr>
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Then got interviewed by Voice of America, you can read the article and see the <a href="http://www.voanews.com/content/muslims-us-religion-discrimination/1503404.html" target="_blank">video here!</a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uFSzczvb7B0fZ5jFsCUXnw72bbfMRiJYlhNowL3KHDGkQQf_nMAFnJBNQBS_2OqGscbaI1JYUp6qb-gq9csfnXRAtoYUXtJ_fWLKMQ7K_3WQaAS_MvRbuMtUWYujGcX4CxL4l2NQkABr/s1600/423726_10101925448692269_805936939_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uFSzczvb7B0fZ5jFsCUXnw72bbfMRiJYlhNowL3KHDGkQQf_nMAFnJBNQBS_2OqGscbaI1JYUp6qb-gq9csfnXRAtoYUXtJ_fWLKMQ7K_3WQaAS_MvRbuMtUWYujGcX4CxL4l2NQkABr/s320/423726_10101925448692269_805936939_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://av.voanews.com/VOA_English/124/237/DNC_Muslims_WEB_VERSION_4x3-fixed-x264-Platform_YTHQFull__358560.mp4" target="_blank">Please interview me more! I love attention! ;-)</a></td></tr>
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Then I almost started crying because the FOO FIGHTERS PERFORMED! I've been wanting to see these dudes play live since High School! ::swoon::</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNpqpt6sFFkEd0MR2UDC16ugd_Li_4R1tbWSWBJVgmMgDxaARxSHqoVebmJWkMo9q4yKPlbhjlh8RV4pf3dH4bcn9dZ7X1LKJxOyoUno9fXSH00D49szYagYHkhsQFDY3as2LaMctcOR7/s1600/548055_10101925244596279_2069354337_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNpqpt6sFFkEd0MR2UDC16ugd_Li_4R1tbWSWBJVgmMgDxaARxSHqoVebmJWkMo9q4yKPlbhjlh8RV4pf3dH4bcn9dZ7X1LKJxOyoUno9fXSH00D49szYagYHkhsQFDY3as2LaMctcOR7/s320/548055_10101925244596279_2069354337_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I stifled every urge to scream at Dave Grohl to have my babies</td></tr>
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The night was of course topped off by our very on POTUS. We went nuts, we went crazy! I don't have pictures of him talking because I was actually LISTENING instead of TWEETING..for once</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvwboixwxwgNExhgRQIN9GkGf4QkoTNRR2CZEaCLz2jp3i7y2fJgsBw_H_NaOQdcziEPTkWZw7P6rr_xLqhnJQPyjIxzdyQvhm7cW0rb2UwLlcoyJ8CNLAx97Xlqlt2imMBpWJLeDaSq_/s1600/obama_dnc_speech_2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvwboixwxwgNExhgRQIN9GkGf4QkoTNRR2CZEaCLz2jp3i7y2fJgsBw_H_NaOQdcziEPTkWZw7P6rr_xLqhnJQPyjIxzdyQvhm7cW0rb2UwLlcoyJ8CNLAx97Xlqlt2imMBpWJLeDaSq_/s320/obama_dnc_speech_2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So here's a stock picture of President Obama at the DNC =)</td></tr>
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11:30 Alright speeches are done, now it was time to party GOOGLE style!</div>
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There were a ton of celebrities, here I am with Jared Leto. Olivia Wilde and Don Cheadle were also nearby </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh69f8h6Md-ls_c4wIC_4fhrXuMQ2XZIsHs82qBrkEwLUrHldR5qJ82-081efFCuU2gdJbcYow9fTZekQd4pt8vN_aMibiZD4Qp1XSqo-PgQoy4q2zyMrwqruSs5XWYPG8yMlD7BK9vaKrM/s1600/564408_10101925254576279_795473231_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh69f8h6Md-ls_c4wIC_4fhrXuMQ2XZIsHs82qBrkEwLUrHldR5qJ82-081efFCuU2gdJbcYow9fTZekQd4pt8vN_aMibiZD4Qp1XSqo-PgQoy4q2zyMrwqruSs5XWYPG8yMlD7BK9vaKrM/s320/564408_10101925254576279_795473231_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jared Leto was sorta cold, probably cos I wasn't a skinny blonde haha!</td></tr>
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And the photo of the night, me with Asif Mandvi and Kal Penn!! I wish I could pay them to hang out with me...one day...one day</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yVhQkXS1eoZbnW7m9YBD2NA2o48z0no0Gp9DSM4QXYRte9wFLC9ppTSWL8PE3m_a_sNc4CeGGwUUn2poUTM0DBR87rQtYZUh7wSL1F7JmLG9xYwFsa-NWpRfhYjpLYDrsVdMuS1485b8/s1600/252493_10101925447629399_2012575168_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yVhQkXS1eoZbnW7m9YBD2NA2o48z0no0Gp9DSM4QXYRte9wFLC9ppTSWL8PE3m_a_sNc4CeGGwUUn2poUTM0DBR87rQtYZUh7wSL1F7JmLG9xYwFsa-NWpRfhYjpLYDrsVdMuS1485b8/s320/252493_10101925447629399_2012575168_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're best friends...in my head</td></tr>
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And that was that folks, although the next morning I did end up talking to famed labor activist Dolores Huerta and ended up hanging out with her in a line for a soul food restaurant</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAf249F-82rvGptO5o7dL4wHbg1gM43MVMRlt9GuoSZYDQGm_r8s1qFJ3gsIFR4hf5JjOD9PoGsfhAInx3ZPzlr3eGMzChuQ0wOIYNKfH4RIv4M2lG_JHXgviMNTFowr6Q8-q-GTGJdIa/s1600/644032_10101925448522609_1002523474_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAf249F-82rvGptO5o7dL4wHbg1gM43MVMRlt9GuoSZYDQGm_r8s1qFJ3gsIFR4hf5JjOD9PoGsfhAInx3ZPzlr3eGMzChuQ0wOIYNKfH4RIv4M2lG_JHXgviMNTFowr6Q8-q-GTGJdIa/s320/644032_10101925448522609_1002523474_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lady is fierce...so active and kick butt!</td></tr>
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It turns out a bunch of celebrities were staying in the California Delegation hotel, so I saw Zach Braff grab coffee and waved hello to Rosario Dawson in an elevator..but I decided to not stalk them for pictures</div>
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I was in a daze, part of me still doesn't believe all of this happened, and that so many of you made sure that I even got there, with your votes, your donations and your time. I had friends from across town, across the country and across the world help me prepare me for my press briefing, The lovely ladies of Retrofit Republic helped me to put together the fly outfits you see me rocking in the pictures. </div>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">When I was in Charlotte, I couldn't believe the hundreds of likes, excited comments and encouraging words I received through Facebook, Twitter and texts. It was overwhelming and amazing, I really felt that in some way, I was able to take my friends with me on this journey. The positive feedback, pure love and pride that my friends showed me from all over just makes me breathless...and yes even speechless.</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">but you know that won't last, I'll never shut up ;-)</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">So on to the next adventure!! Can't wait to take you all with me!</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">THANK YOU!!! </span> </span></div>
S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-55051090713948316222012-08-31T03:31:00.000-07:002012-08-31T10:24:22.761-07:00Onward to Charlotte!!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tQiqOND4B_0XnwOoen7CO_feU5o9OMLosqu1owbixSfcV-VS9esgkNmlWJokqqHb_hiF9Yf2vJSVxki4-DtNYCA0TYvWFso4xQrnObQi9R13v9LCG9-eIF2wb4EjhaibBHD-CmbDoNz6/s1600/553767_10101882047448709_1120092407_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tQiqOND4B_0XnwOoen7CO_feU5o9OMLosqu1owbixSfcV-VS9esgkNmlWJokqqHb_hiF9Yf2vJSVxki4-DtNYCA0TYvWFso4xQrnObQi9R13v9LCG9-eIF2wb4EjhaibBHD-CmbDoNz6/s320/553767_10101882047448709_1120092407_n.jpg" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm there!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've been so busy blogging for other sites that I've hardly had the time to write on my own. You can read the recent articles below that I posted as the South Asian Political Blogger for <a href="http://hyphenmagazine.com/" target="_blank">Hyphen magazine:</a><br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/08/politics-our-political-leaders-deserve-some-blame-sikh-shooting" target="_blank"> Our Political Leaders Deserve Some Blame for Sikh Shooting</a> </li>
<li><a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/07/politics-muslims-gain-seats-dems-big-tent-convention" target="_blank">Muslims Gain Seats at Dems 'Big Tent' Convention</a> </li>
<li><a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/06/politics-discussing-south-asians-politics-congressional-candidate-chivikula" target="_blank">Discussing South Asians in Politics with Congressional Candidate Chivikula</a></li>
</ul>
But what I LOVE about blogging here is I can just be me, writing about what I want, when I want. My writing may be sappy, unfocused, repetitive and include too many exclamation points, but hey that's me! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYlfLWWRH298m2JcUGB8g6XqrO2XRQqm6IeHB6lzdrfYhsejR2h7kXq8uL4mq_kSfVN6lf1IQNpFb1zr_7Wh_2S7j97DlwVWGpRYr0-jsR_cmEAOVBaWD-zF-gmw-Ma6qfpta-cH4t47X/s1600/2953_785467923909_4531731_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYlfLWWRH298m2JcUGB8g6XqrO2XRQqm6IeHB6lzdrfYhsejR2h7kXq8uL4mq_kSfVN6lf1IQNpFb1zr_7Wh_2S7j97DlwVWGpRYr0-jsR_cmEAOVBaWD-zF-gmw-Ma6qfpta-cH4t47X/s320/2953_785467923909_4531731_n.jpg" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup.....me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And me, myself and I will be headed to Charlotte, North Carolina this Sunday for the Superbowl of Democratic politics, the <a href="http://www.demconvention.com/" target="_blank">2012 Democratic National Convention</a>. As the day grows nearer I just get more and more excited, so excited in fact that I actually went shopping just for the convention. Hey a lady's got some swag to maintain...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_u3-tt0g11FwvrLPPkf1KYk0Q8dY07K4oPQAs_3zBUHEVMfRvk2lgk2tj-cC82GrNPxWvc4E2nuACGh2AKn97IFSC5WJp5ROPXpJLBORMdcMmNsSZBuPX-_2nQ_FW1hergFKmIXAac8w/s1600/538489_10101892737939879_535084645_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_u3-tt0g11FwvrLPPkf1KYk0Q8dY07K4oPQAs_3zBUHEVMfRvk2lgk2tj-cC82GrNPxWvc4E2nuACGh2AKn97IFSC5WJp5ROPXpJLBORMdcMmNsSZBuPX-_2nQ_FW1hergFKmIXAac8w/s320/538489_10101892737939879_535084645_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The heels compliment my Napoleon complex</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All kidding aside, I can't wait for this experience. I know that when I will be on the convention floor, watching President Obama present his big speech, I will recall how 4 years ago at that exact moment, I was sitting in an African American hair salon with a group of strangers and my dear friend Chris Haines to watch Obama's speech as he accepted the official nomination for President. That was an awesome DNC watch party filled with cupcakes and new friends, who didn't hesitate to give up their salon chairs for me.<br />
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And before that, I recall my father watching the conventions. He was always into politics though he wasn't really an activist. I remember watching Bill Clinton being on stage with confetti everywhere, and people screaming with crazy hats, all in red white and blue. I remember thinking "wow, what a party and how does someone get invited to <b><i>that</i></b>".<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://graphics.nytimes.com/images/promos/politics/blog/wv-confettiangel533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://graphics.nytimes.com/images/promos/politics/blog/wv-confettiangel533.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Partaaaay! Can't wait to make DNC confetti angels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So here I am, not just invited, but an elected district level delegate. I want to thank my friend and fellow CA District 13 delegate, Igor Tregub for personally calling me and pushing me to run. I would never had done it if it weren't for his call!<br />
<br />
Yet being elected as delegate was just the first step, I still needed to raise over $1500 dollars so that I could go. No money, no Charlotte. Amazingly, I was able to raise that amount in under two months. And it was all because of my friends and loved ones, they gave without hesitation. I think I am still in awe of it all. Thank to all of them! I got invited to the game, but they were the ones who made sure that I showed up.<br />
<br />
Speaking of support, some of my biggest supporters were the family members of my friend Travis, whom I've mentioned on this blog <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/05/remembering-travis.html" target="_blank">many times.</a> He was in the military and was killed in Afghanistan only 3 months ago. He was excited when I told him that I would be a delegate, and here I am, finally on my way there and I cannot share it with him as I had planned to do.<br />
<br />
But I am sharing it with his wonderful family. His parents covered my plane ticket and his relatives further supported me by giving even more money...just amazing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbHvOSgkRFC0hEP9ufbJNlv5XT0NTHF5S7iMvqnIqZqEB3l48JRb6K47qM_1TLx4KFk1wiCcsffKr7F0WS4vPd3hvDP__D6yxsG3qib4B6ODoCtt4oAYl9qFnp2JuOQ8IK3R9vinmMk-Z/s1600/_MG_7937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbHvOSgkRFC0hEP9ufbJNlv5XT0NTHF5S7iMvqnIqZqEB3l48JRb6K47qM_1TLx4KFk1wiCcsffKr7F0WS4vPd3hvDP__D6yxsG3qib4B6ODoCtt4oAYl9qFnp2JuOQ8IK3R9vinmMk-Z/s320/_MG_7937.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will never forget</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I will be wearing these dog tags in honor of Travis for the entire time at convention. I do hope people ask me about him, I want to share his story and his impact on my life. Thanks again to his family for sending me the tags. Travis may not be there in person, but he's there, I'm bringing him with me! This is one of many reasons why this convention means so much to me. it may be a big political prep rally and yes Obama is a shoe-in for the democratic nomination, but it is an opportunity and experience of a lifetime.<br />
<br />
I will be attending a ton of cool meetings, and will be moderating a panel for the <a href="http://www.amaweb.org/" target="_blank">American Muslim Alliance</a>, whose leader <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agha_Saeed" target="_blank">Dr. Agha Saeed</a> has already given me a wealth of information on political organizing and Muslim Civic engagement history. The AMA hospitality suite will address the problems plaguing Muslim and Muslim perceived communities in the US, in particular addressing the troubling implications of the civil rights defying <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Defense_Authorization_Act_for_Fiscal_Year_2012" target="_blank">National Defense and Authorization Act.</a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://worldtruth.tv/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/89661555-ndaa-national.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://worldtruth.tv/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/89661555-ndaa-national.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">got civil rights?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Outside of the many meetings, I was also invited by the State Dept to present a briefing to foreign journalists regarding my journey as a delegate and to discuss and answer questions regarding Muslim American participation in the United States. They read my <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/07/politics-muslims-gain-seats-dems-big-tent-convention" target="_blank">article</a> on Hyphen and asked me to speak. I am so honored and excited to this, I have never done a press conference, especially as the only one speaking! To top it off the State Dept will be recording the session to send to all of their foreign embassies. Talk about pressure, but you know I love it because they want me to <i>talk</i> after all! <br />
<br />
I hope to blog from Charlotte, if not I will be tweeting my thumbs off ...and taking photos (of course).<br />
<br />
But before I go I want to say another thanks. I want to thank my parents for instilling a deep love for my fellow human beings - my political involvement and interest came from that. They are currently in the middle of Pennsylvania, in a tucked away little city, but I am so glad that they can watch the convention on TV and know that their daughter, the daughter of Bangladeshi Muslim immigrant parents, is out there representing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIkgQ-n9_iGoRJSQ-ndk-TBEg0SAHf9CJD6E5jRSHf_Oag6ffokY9TrTQ9XEcABqUNc4cP7-hecQRJO9IbdJlZNsgLUKER9fNWSN7lAqr-wMbImiMsE6c9GsQdVLtfHm_BMVvkslr-RQ0/s1600/547299_10101619488758429_199000464_n-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIkgQ-n9_iGoRJSQ-ndk-TBEg0SAHf9CJD6E5jRSHf_Oag6ffokY9TrTQ9XEcABqUNc4cP7-hecQRJO9IbdJlZNsgLUKER9fNWSN7lAqr-wMbImiMsE6c9GsQdVLtfHm_BMVvkslr-RQ0/s320/547299_10101619488758429_199000464_n-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abbu and Mamoni, your baby's going to the DNC! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And you all made it possible, so thank you and I can't wait to tweet you all a picture of me giving the President a bear hug, before I am promptly tackled by the secret service (calm down Homeland Security, that was a joke).<br />
<br />
See you in Charlotte!<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Nadia<br />
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-71185405855933259652012-07-16T02:17:00.002-07:002012-07-17T00:10:47.981-07:0028 Years on this Planet<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWt68JQ1gAoVjQHlCIYCECH_ngCkpSnwZeCwGsuMbeU9CChk8YonlfL1z5Tnqa8CUP6riAg6O2CxVfvYgGlS57wV0GC3SbL7lcJEogpUoBUf9e4YzyEeMMaMYIRBt9f33qKVnrTilQ_v9A/s1600/534641_10101776683588729_1474960676_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWt68JQ1gAoVjQHlCIYCECH_ngCkpSnwZeCwGsuMbeU9CChk8YonlfL1z5Tnqa8CUP6riAg6O2CxVfvYgGlS57wV0GC3SbL7lcJEogpUoBUf9e4YzyEeMMaMYIRBt9f33qKVnrTilQ_v9A/s320/534641_10101776683588729_1474960676_a.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woohoo, I'm 28!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Last weekend was a celebration of just that, my 28th birthday. I intended on writing much sooner, but a few things came up. One, how do I follow up <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/06/saying-goodbye.html" target="_blank">two emotional posts</a> about a friend's passing, I mean really it's not so easy and it did take a lot out of me. Second, I was in Vegas for 4 days with spotty Internet service and um, party side-effects. Both are not conducive to blog writing, and to top it off, another party side effect was spending 2 days sick after coming back from Vegas. All in all, totally worth it though.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNTEViaQ2FnYjWa2H2I_RyMBIeK_uOozXRAQg_XDxvlzePTwju32bSmRW0NYYlkJhvUWU1yQt7c-6O3VUk5mIV_YSZ99xQPKSSyUq7O97_fiZUYSZKez18nmJQivvATjdoDYJZSTrZPkH/s1600/295261_10101776685390119_634430649_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNTEViaQ2FnYjWa2H2I_RyMBIeK_uOozXRAQg_XDxvlzePTwju32bSmRW0NYYlkJhvUWU1yQt7c-6O3VUk5mIV_YSZ99xQPKSSyUq7O97_fiZUYSZKez18nmJQivvATjdoDYJZSTrZPkH/s320/295261_10101776685390119_634430649_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soooo worth it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm not sure about most people, but there are two big reflection points for me every year: New Years and my Birthday (and everyday, but you probably already knew that). When I think of my birthday last year (which was covered in<a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/07/27-dazed-and-confused.html" target="_blank"> a previous blog posting</a>), I was surrounded with Bay Area friends, great food at a packed get together in my own backyard. It always amazes me to see how much life I lived in that year, from 27 to now. To sum up how I felt at 27, I include this picture...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJL5b9bXhryxwaJyYuaP5uI7OuiI8NfThsEEZnkprcQuhDWNqzoScPiLrBPprjYmWS23yJNt0hZ-ZXvVqtl_ROvwhyhrvjDbS3p_n6anGrC0fReH9yQAQpxvpkixM5Im4MqSyD6hH7M__/s1600/fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJL5b9bXhryxwaJyYuaP5uI7OuiI8NfThsEEZnkprcQuhDWNqzoScPiLrBPprjYmWS23yJNt0hZ-ZXvVqtl_ROvwhyhrvjDbS3p_n6anGrC0fReH9yQAQpxvpkixM5Im4MqSyD6hH7M__/s320/fall.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tend to use this picture a lot...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And my piece of advice at 27 was "I don't know shit. And when I think I do, I'm just fooling myself." Sage advice, funny how it'll most likely be relevant no matter how old I get.<br />
<br />
But things have changed of course! I'm a year older! and wiser (perhaps?). What's funny is that a year ago I felt very immature and this year, I just feel <i>old.</i> Does that make any sense? I feel like my older friends are wanting to toss their laptops out the window when I make that statement. But I mean it, this past year of my life has been overwhelming and brimming with lesson after lesson. To the point where I feel like lessons are right-hooking me to oblivion. At this point last year I was hopelessly contemplating a career direction (while consulting at one part time gig only) and hoping to combine my love for art/poetry/photography into something that made sense.<br />
<br />
Now I do have a full time job! Just recently I started working full time for a health and wellness organization in the East Bay that works with marginalized API communities called <a href="http://www.chaaweb.org/" target="_blank">Community Health for Asian Americans (CHAA)</a>. I will be working as a Community Wellness Advocate for Youth, but this was after working as a part-time social media coordinator for the organization (you can check out the blog I started <a href="http://chaaweb.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a>). So I was using photography and writing to cover the work CHAA was doing, and also documenting the issues, lives and cultures of the communities we worked with. I am also now the <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archive/2012/06/politics-discussing-south-asians-politics-congressional-candidate-chivikula" target="_blank">South Asian Political Blogger for Hyphen Magazine,</a> a super hip and super connected magazine that recently had <a href="http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/magazine/issue-25-generation" target="_blank">George Takei on the cover.</a><br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.rwuo.com/resurrected/community/files/thumbs/t_george_takei__ohmy_169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.rwuo.com/resurrected/community/files/thumbs/t_george_takei__ohmy_169.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George Takei is my internet God</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It only took me 2 years to find a full time job again. It was a tough two years, one year on unemployment and another working two part time jobs with no benefits, and a constant splitting apart of the little focus I do have. Man, that was tough (say <a href="http://www.quickmeme.com/First-World-Problems/" target="_blank">"first world problems"</a> and I will e-punch you in the face). The economy took a toll on so many people, including myself, and being in California was hard as well since I had left my entire network on the East Coast.<br />
<br />
But here I am, not only with a social network, but a political network as well. I am serving on the boards of two Democratic organizations, on the <a href="http://www.ebyd.org/" target="_blank">East Bay Young Democrats</a> and the Black Young Democrats of the East Bay. It's crazy, it's a lot of work, but I am learning so much about the political process. It's a good thing to know, who can figure where any of this will lead me one day (running for office? maybe? maaaaybe?), but regardless it's all part of my 'process' right now.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcQDlZh2IFeoOKE0nfi8i_ijpY5ku9bHzL8mv6w3obPEXBQwnAlPgqNEGKqADYrKcxk3_EqIL3IB870_9iqmIEB1VVLzBLSk1zhTIuzbsSh6wnxm9J0VUfa-2nx3cHEBwT7y4_ZpS9Xg/s400/funny-pictures-this-wheel-is-spinning-too-fast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcQDlZh2IFeoOKE0nfi8i_ijpY5ku9bHzL8mv6w3obPEXBQwnAlPgqNEGKqADYrKcxk3_EqIL3IB870_9iqmIEB1VVLzBLSk1zhTIuzbsSh6wnxm9J0VUfa-2nx3cHEBwT7y4_ZpS9Xg/s320/funny-pictures-this-wheel-is-spinning-too-fast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See: My Process</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Speaking of process, the next big (see: Huge) event in my life is Charlotte, NC. I was recently elected to be a delegate representing <a href="http://ballotpedia.org/wiki/index.php/California%27s_13th_congressional_district_elections,_2012" target="_blank">California's 13th Congressional district </a>at the <a href="http://www.demconvention.com/" target="_blank">2012 Democratic National Convention</a> in Charlotte, North Carolina this September 3rd. I actually came in as the third highest vote getter amongst 19 women who ran! It's nuts, I still can't believe I was elected, and as the event gets closer I find myself getting more and more excited and nervous. Will this be a life changing event? Will I do something embarrassing on National TV? Will I high-five Pres. Obama? Will I be tackled by the Secret Service? I DON'T KNOW, but I do think it'll be an amazing experience for sure. I am fundraising $1,200 to go to the convention ( hey broke homegirl is still working for the non profit world!). <a href="http://fundly.com/nadiadnccharlotte2012" target="_blank">So if you want to help a brown, progressive, South Asian, Muslim, API, young, kick ass sista make it to convention, please click here to support.</a> I will be forever grateful to you, and steal you an Obama sticker. Or you can just think of it as helping someone get further in the political field who actually has the interests of marginalized communities and human rights in the forefront of her efforts. Anything helps, even 10 bucks adds up!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjga5trYEgguaIMww8JKdCypJaGjaXajZS6dwse1CFslzxuV_336zAHNHyLG9riVjtHZHvVIbbZCJ8aLKk3Ud0zlBKxslWORy_FZqVQXA907TKkay3lBE2G-5oRnPESOUwU6Y_7YY-5vlSs/s1600/delegate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjga5trYEgguaIMww8JKdCypJaGjaXajZS6dwse1CFslzxuV_336zAHNHyLG9riVjtHZHvVIbbZCJ8aLKk3Ud0zlBKxslWORy_FZqVQXA907TKkay3lBE2G-5oRnPESOUwU6Y_7YY-5vlSs/s320/delegate.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay, <a href="http://fundly.com/nadiadnccharlotte2012" target="_blank">help get Nadia to Convention!</a></td></tr>
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So here goes another year. Another huge event (convention), more fundraising (see above), and having more life changing, heart wrenching and mind expanding experiences. In the past year I attended so many political and human rights events as I looked to empower myself and my community. I went to <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/03/greetings-from-vietnam.html" target="_blank">Vietnam and had one of the most amazing experiences of my life</a>. I was able to advocate on Capital Hill both in DC and Sacramento with NAPAWF. I did another year of the South Asian Vagina Monologues, and the wonderful experiences just never stopped unfolding.<br />
<br />
And this was the year that I met <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/05/remembering-travis.html" target="_blank">Travis, a person who's passing still weighs upon my mind and heart. </a>A year ago I didn't even know he existed, and in such a short time he came and went through my life. I also lost my friend Yvette, who attended my birthday last year and was the last person I dropped off that night. I lost my Barbara Nanu (great aunt), who took care of me and my sister when we were babies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IX-WwRCVqbcN5E6hu5gDLp2CtsiI6Dh3MNYR6PkknRkAwfGLOlJvykXCfYl3oaB_KxGanscZlaNPhyK4Ifh3APAyaprOoSfeBguOrY9Pna63Wu8jr1JH2IfKZ2njspxd2ARqpzVHsSno/s1600/283684_10150926651648821_1670639933_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IX-WwRCVqbcN5E6hu5gDLp2CtsiI6Dh3MNYR6PkknRkAwfGLOlJvykXCfYl3oaB_KxGanscZlaNPhyK4Ifh3APAyaprOoSfeBguOrY9Pna63Wu8jr1JH2IfKZ2njspxd2ARqpzVHsSno/s320/283684_10150926651648821_1670639933_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dear Barbara Nanu, R.I.P</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My 27th year was so bittersweet and beautiful- full of hope, new experiences and heartbreak. I am grateful for those experiences, though I do feel a but overwhelmed by it all.<br />
<br />
But 28 will only bring more life trials and joys. I gotta stand proud and take it all in. Bring it <i>on</i> 28, I'm ready. And even if I'm not, I'm gonna give it one hell of a try. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn_2tGqKrQAOSjuBxm4NsVf83xhiUpMQd2ny3eVat3J4RbeNkLuSW1txjYytSeZMdt3VT3EcRdFg8bz7GGPe8p-0HanmsE_1yBkXaZtmwhUKlinricEFzyNQgUN5fiTzPR7o77rXwep4s/s1600/me+dumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn_2tGqKrQAOSjuBxm4NsVf83xhiUpMQd2ny3eVat3J4RbeNkLuSW1txjYytSeZMdt3VT3EcRdFg8bz7GGPe8p-0HanmsE_1yBkXaZtmwhUKlinricEFzyNQgUN5fiTzPR7o77rXwep4s/s320/me+dumb.jpg" width="174" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 'Bring It" pose</td></tr>
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<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-63233719780017270362012-06-08T03:51:00.003-07:002012-06-11T23:02:17.815-07:00Saying Goodbye<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6lJeWJlXAnWFYdRuF35On7C7LKcdxhCgBrTr4z7lnlZ-V1Wpy4bjuE-SfpyEgydrdqNX6Hr8wD97XaBWpwr-R8pm8e9Bi1tU6z8m49xvtbyY946Hhe-bbNH60RR8HZfd4hFY2kdVwliI/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-06-08+at+3.22.16+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6lJeWJlXAnWFYdRuF35On7C7LKcdxhCgBrTr4z7lnlZ-V1Wpy4bjuE-SfpyEgydrdqNX6Hr8wD97XaBWpwr-R8pm8e9Bi1tU6z8m49xvtbyY946Hhe-bbNH60RR8HZfd4hFY2kdVwliI/s400/Screen+shot+2012-06-08+at+3.22.16+AM.png" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travis sitting outside at night under the streetlights during basic training</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ever since I found out about Travis's passing in Afghanistan, I have teetered back and forth, from celebrating our friendship and re-reading his emails, to utter despair and disbelief at his loss. This past Monday offered some solace to me, as I was able to join his loved ones to finally put Travis to rest.<br />
<br />
I have never attended a military funeral. I have only seen them on the news, or in Time magazine, the pictures of families sobbing, the grand procession, the flag folding ceremony. It all seemed so heart wrenching, but also detached from my own experiences. After this week, I will never feel that way again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk5kTcJ1K8iipGT8Rue0C2wauZG2q8ZRRmRjdP5CHmxd6ywjFefauetOw8VS9Tj7LkJ6i0D3zjw-0cQf8kfa2wAVGPKbpZBj5BCLBCW5KfMxpOCw_onN6FT-bPgKI8FIP9VVJ_DNElD5l/s1600/IMG_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk5kTcJ1K8iipGT8Rue0C2wauZG2q8ZRRmRjdP5CHmxd6ywjFefauetOw8VS9Tj7LkJ6i0D3zjw-0cQf8kfa2wAVGPKbpZBj5BCLBCW5KfMxpOCw_onN6FT-bPgKI8FIP9VVJ_DNElD5l/s320/IMG_0035.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">folding the flags to give to his parents</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the funeral cemetery, when soldiers marched and folded the flag, I felt like I was in a hazy dream. That perhaps none of this was really happening. That Travis couldn't <i>really</i> be gone, that I couldn't be <i>really</i> standing at his funeral watching soldiers folding a flag for <i>HIM</i>. He was supposed to come back safe, like so many people I knew who had been deployed and had returned.<br />
<br />
But there it was, right in front of my eyes. When the soldiers handed the flags to his parents, my heart just shattered for them and their unbearable loss. The soldiers took Travis's ashes and respectfully placed them in their final resting place, inside a granite wall with his name tagged on it. And that was it, Travis had finally come home. Right then, an army helicopter swooped above us, circling around the funeral party while waving an American flag. My eyes blurred as tears ran down my face when I saw this. It was all so much, so much emotion, so much trauma, and so much grief.<br />
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I spent the time after the funeral hanging out with his family and attending a gathering at his grandfathers beautiful home. His family and friends told me stories about his life, about how he told them about me and our friendship, which touched me deeply. I also learned so much about him. Strangely, it was as if I got to know him better after his death. The friendship Travis and I had had an instant connection, but was brief. I only knew him in the present, as he shared his thoughts and uncertainties about Afghanistan, about his life as a ranger. Now, I learned that he was a huge broncos fan, that he grew up in Washington, but spent summer in San Jose, how he loved football and basketball, and hated taking pictures, but above all else he much he loved his family and always kept everyone together. I looked through his baby pictures and marveled at the man that he had become, and the man that we had all lost.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBlM343cRZQIHxPTlDu1NEriZqqw2UnLSNGjWIe42wy15Ino-qoOCukxuoujS_FnXLcX6gz2y4MWyqvMM6R3RJU12zYP8cOGWlEloSgPZtpeLPmb-6OLNjOnU-_AU5V2n_6xCky6KUmkf/s1600/IMG_0054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBlM343cRZQIHxPTlDu1NEriZqqw2UnLSNGjWIe42wy15Ino-qoOCukxuoujS_FnXLcX6gz2y4MWyqvMM6R3RJU12zYP8cOGWlEloSgPZtpeLPmb-6OLNjOnU-_AU5V2n_6xCky6KUmkf/s320/IMG_0054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I want to thank his wonderful family for opening their hearts to me during one of the most difficult times in their lives. They loved the blog post I wrote about Travis so much that they printed it out along with his photos to show everyone, and shared it far and wide. It gave me some comfort to know that somehow, I could be there for them. His mother, father, stepfather, stepmother, and myriad of aunts and uncles warmed my heart with their close bonds. I was inspired to meet them and get to know them. I only hope that one day, I can help cultivate a family unit with as much love and connection as I saw within them.<br />
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Thirteen of Travis's friends also flew down from Washington to attend his funeral. I have never seen young men show so much dedication to a friend, to shell out that kind of money to make sure that they would not miss this final goodbye.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBDAAlBxelztia4j7XzYQJLPo89V61XGsAuZG0QRNpPJijx9OWW1aaG5mBMGfyBtrE2guudaf1V5AGqDaAwUzqevWiUzuY5zRC9oNUWxlU5ST6BAZGyS4av7WUrcQ1Ed0a301jiWW16Tq/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBDAAlBxelztia4j7XzYQJLPo89V61XGsAuZG0QRNpPJijx9OWW1aaG5mBMGfyBtrE2guudaf1V5AGqDaAwUzqevWiUzuY5zRC9oNUWxlU5ST6BAZGyS4av7WUrcQ1Ed0a301jiWW16Tq/s320/IMG_0078.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Joe Morgado, Travis's father</td></tr>
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I also spoke to his father, Joe, for awhile. He recalled how small Travis had been as a baby and how he wouldn't give up one second of his life with Travis for anything, that every second was cherished. I found out how even at the very end, how brave Travis was, and how he put his military unit first. I remember Travis once mentioned to me that he was more afraid of having someone under his command get hurt, rather than himself. That was him, selfless till the end.<br />
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And that is what I carry with me now. All of these memories, all of the love I felt from his family. I am still grappling with sadness and loss. I know that I will never get another email from him, or get to send him another book. But now I am emailing some of his friends and families, it's amazing the impact that one persons life can have. It's amazing what experiences one can go through by just saying hi to someone on a plane.<br />
<br />
Travis's father told me that Travis always wanted to do something that would be
remembered. I will do my part to make sure that this happens, that people
know about Travis and what his life meant. How in such a short time, he
has inspired me forever. But it doesn't end there. One thing Travis and I really connected on was our desire to do something meaningful with our lives, to make the world a better place. Travis may be gone, but he always encouraged me. He was so excited for my trip to Vietnam, for me to be involved in politics, for all of the social justice work I am involved in. I feel a renewed passion to go out there and never give up. To live my life to the fullest and make the biggest impact I can make. To be fearless and steadfast in my efforts. And I will do it, with Travis in my heart, inspiring me all the way through.<br />
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Travis, when I close my eyes, I see your kind eyes, your slight smile as we talked excitedly on and on and on while you sat right next to me. Now you are so far away, and I can't get to where you are. But I cherish that memory so dearly. We all cherish your memory in every way possible. Befriending you, losing you, and connecting with your loved ones over your early loss has given me one of the most profound experiences of my life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRF65in6SXu71Qq3br93xz-meRTUnHw_exXNHMKbtWy8gpK2tWjHhwOtVBxjxq1BNqIojX2i6tmsdVL90dBHMsvppse7NgDMAycRWAd34hcQQjy-g5jg4Fm2Wxh9Ir6_H4r5kTeIxP3cmZ/s1600/_MG_7253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRF65in6SXu71Qq3br93xz-meRTUnHw_exXNHMKbtWy8gpK2tWjHhwOtVBxjxq1BNqIojX2i6tmsdVL90dBHMsvppse7NgDMAycRWAd34hcQQjy-g5jg4Fm2Wxh9Ir6_H4r5kTeIxP3cmZ/s320/_MG_7253.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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So thank you Travis! Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for letting me share your world for a little while before you left.<br />
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For that, I am forever grateful.<br />
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Love always,<br />
Nadia<br />
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<br />
To see more photos, you can go to my Facebook Album:<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10101695914041549.3090406.8803719&type=1&l=ac0e01fbe6">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10101695914041549.3090406.8803719&type=1&l=ac0e01fbe6</a></span><br />
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-36898016486865962122012-05-28T02:05:00.001-07:002012-06-21T14:59:56.241-07:00Remembering Travis<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-uW9NBSr5S8hP2YSMHL_r195_0IEJ-eYFWkUMmWsqSxEoy889utZsjo-VzzkSRHim1HRmoSsRFmChMbU-BFhqDz3jGezBnzcLRfE9Hb4rDajXWyofRb0BOszc_RjyzL5G7UotHsGanLZ/s1600/580030_10150969302705339_728855338_12735913_1932714968_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-uW9NBSr5S8hP2YSMHL_r195_0IEJ-eYFWkUMmWsqSxEoy889utZsjo-VzzkSRHim1HRmoSsRFmChMbU-BFhqDz3jGezBnzcLRfE9Hb4rDajXWyofRb0BOszc_RjyzL5G7UotHsGanLZ/s320/580030_10150969302705339_728855338_12735913_1932714968_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travis with his aunt Jenny (I never had the chance to take a photo with him)</td></tr>
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This past Friday night, I was casually strolling through my facebook when I saw a photo someone posted of my friend, Travis Morgado. I stopped to look at the photo and noticed that the caption read R.I.P. My mind raced and I frantically scrolled through his page. I noticed comment after comment giving condolences and R.I.P's. The word 'no' was screaming through my brain as it sunk in. My worst fears had come true, and <a href="http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20120613/NEWS01/706139941">the person I had hoped would come back from Afghanistan safely was now gone forever.</a> We had e-mailed each other only two weeks before and now he was gone. He was only 25 years old.<br />
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That hurts. Writing that hurts. I met Travis not that long ago. I was coming back from DC after my amazing experience <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/01/napawf-women-represent-at-out-nations.html">lobbying Capitol Hill with my fellow NAPAWF sisters</a> and was boarding my flight when I noticed a young man in fatigues headed towards my seat. I had noticed him earlier, and his uniform piqued my curiosity. For some reason, I felt like I wanted to know his story. Maybe it was because I was an Army brat for the first ten years of my life (a fact that most people don't know about me),with my Bangladeshi immigrant father serving both in the US Army and National Guard reserve. Or maybe it's because my boyfriend, Roberto and my mentor Anthony are also ex-Marines. These people are some of the most important and maybe THE most important people in my life and with that, the military also became a part of my life story, intermingled in my history and in the history of people I love. <br />
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I think I spoke to Travis first, and true to my nature (and the name of this blog), I didn't shut up; neither of us did. We talked the during the ENTIRE five hour flight to SF. I don't think I ever spoke to a complete stranger for that long, let alone on a plane. But it was so easy, he was a great listener, and I was so interested in his decision to join the military and where he would be going. I have strong views against militarism and war, so talking to him was a fascinating insight into why he was enlisted and how he felt about being shipped to Afghanistan. I told him that if he was to go Afghanistan, he should learn about the people, their customs and maintain his humanity the best he could. With this in mind, I promised to send him the book, <a href="https://www.ikat.org/about-cai/history/">Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson</a>, a book about an American who went to Pakistan and Afghanistan to build schools for girls, and how he did it by being respectful and open to the cultures of the communities he was working with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCaZ_RsZ-0r6lSDBiJoWDOcLmSalQG25yQhlHJ3Wusc-Qkjx_cu3J753qIBVYuPrNIv_o5dEFIYSGO1a9a5sxfp1gU_ELJCPhABQlugzheXMb1LzA-iWZGsAhxGcV7kXdsp-eQ655ftchg/s1600/188807_191126530927246_189511621088737_482808_7897580_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCaZ_RsZ-0r6lSDBiJoWDOcLmSalQG25yQhlHJ3Wusc-Qkjx_cu3J753qIBVYuPrNIv_o5dEFIYSGO1a9a5sxfp1gU_ELJCPhABQlugzheXMb1LzA-iWZGsAhxGcV7kXdsp-eQ655ftchg/s320/188807_191126530927246_189511621088737_482808_7897580_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travis on the right, just as I remember him on the plane wearing his fatigues. You aren't supposed to wear fatigues on a plane, but he told me all of his clothes had already been sent home so he had no choice ;-)<br />
Photo by: <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=189511621088737" href="https://www.facebook.com/ArmyOCS00611Blackhearts" id="js_5">Army OCS 006-11 2nd Platoon Black Hearts</a> </td></tr>
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The plane landed, we exchanged information and went down the terminal together. At the door, I introduced him to my boyfriend, and waved good bye...that was the last time I ever physically saw him.<br />
<br />
Yet not the last time I heard from him. I sent him my copy of the book and wrote a note for him in the inside cover. We sent e-mails back and forth. He emailed me about his crazy time in Vegas and I emailed him about my plans to go to Vietnam. A week after I met him, he donated $100 to my cause <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/02/warm-n-fuzzy-fundraising-story.html">(which I mentioned in an earlier blog post).</a> That act of kindness brought me to tears when I saw the donation pull up. I had just met him and was overwhelmed by his quick generosity. I knew this guy was special.<br />
<br />
He was deployed to Afghanistan on March 20. In Afghanistan we continue to email each other. He told me how he was so nervous to be coming in from the outside and commanding men, he didn't know if he could do it right. I sent words of encouragement and told him to watch out for <a href="http://www.camelspiders.net/">camel spiders.</a> I sent him another book to read. I knew he was glad to have someone to talk to while he was deployed. I always told him to be safe. I wrote it to him, emailed it to him and texted to him. I always wished for his safety.<br />
<br />
When I found out about his death from a roadside bomb, I was hysterical. I then saw articles of him posted. It is so weird to see your friend as an <a href="http://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/Army-Lt-From-SJ-Dies-in-Afghanistan-154101715.html">article</a>. I felt so sad for his parents and family, I could not imagine what they were going through. I called my boyfriend because he knew what it was like to lose his comrades in war. I called him so angry. I was always angry about the wars, but now war seemed even more meaningless and senseless. Who wins a war? Who ever truly wins a war? The innocent civilians who are murdered ruthlessly as collateral damage? The young men in their prime who are buried by their parents? The politicians making the decisions without facing any of the consequences? Who <i>EVER WINS </i>a war? I ranted these things to Roberto, who had lost many men in his unit, though he himself was never deployed. <br />
<br />
I somehow went to sleep that night, with a dose of Tylenol PM and chamomile tea. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like my face had been hit by a truck. The crying and tears had drained me, but I picked myself up and went to an event to meet <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Lee">Congresswoman Barbara Lee</a>, an amazing woman who was one of the few representatives who voted <i>against</i> the Iraq war from the very beginning, and has been a great leader. I knew that Travis would have wanted me to attend this event, to keep following my dreams, to fight the good fight, make connections and change the world. He was excited for me when I was elected to be a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. He told me that I would probably end up all famous and successful one day and forget about the little people like him. That one day when he would tell people that he knew me, they would laugh him off as a crazy old lieutenant.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkcpShPiQx0seNIPZmcHRY11oVdOKKUB0-ZiE_vX0Tpo4QBDF_kbJ46ll8P_cOljyt1HPYYuPrgIayT8IhTDw3gf7LrT4uZuxE7ZEiaizRnnEwMzN1aPB8_WBZcJi38TUGenFXPNIb9tO/s1600/543316_10150811308137531_615972530_10118275_2099496415_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkcpShPiQx0seNIPZmcHRY11oVdOKKUB0-ZiE_vX0Tpo4QBDF_kbJ46ll8P_cOljyt1HPYYuPrgIayT8IhTDw3gf7LrT4uZuxE7ZEiaizRnnEwMzN1aPB8_WBZcJi38TUGenFXPNIb9tO/s320/543316_10150811308137531_615972530_10118275_2099496415_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Rep. Lee...this one was for you, Travis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I knew back then that I would never forget him. I told him so, but now with everything that has happened, his memory is seared into my heart and mind forever.<br />
<br />
I have never lost a friend or family member who was a soldier in a war. Yet I always stopped to look and acknowledged memorials of the thousands of young men and women who lost their lives. In Vietnam. In Iraq. In Afghanistan. Now I know someone and it has changed me, death always changes the living.<br />
<br />
It is Memorial Day today, memorial day will never be the same for me. I think about Travis all the time, the shock has worn off but I am still in disbelief. Sometimes I fantasize that he will come back and we could continue our friendship, finally get to hang out again. But it's just a fantasy, something that makes me smile and saddens me at the same time.<br />
<br />
I wanted to sign this post off with one of the last things Travis wrote to me via e-mail. It was something poignant that stuck with me...<br />
<br />
<i>"I think that at one point not even that long ago I was a lot different
of a person than I am now. Don't you ever think about how your life
would have been different had you just done a couple of things another
way? I think that regret is a feeling that can consume a person. It's
the difference between a happy person and a sad one, every local I meet
here show no signs of regret, they all seem happy with their lives.
Complete opposite of most of the soldiers I've met here. I have always
believed that there has to be something mentally wrong with a person to
pick my job, especially since every other job in the army is more
practical, and less dangerous. And the longer I'm in the more I believe
that I am right. We are fighting without a purpose, you cannot kill an
idea, and yet everyone here is still willing to fight, and just waiting
to get shot at."</i> - Travis Morgado<br />
<br />
I hope that in the end Travis, you did not have regrets. I know you chose your path, and knew the dangers. Neither of us knows the purpose of war, and it makes me wonder how you felt being over there with this realization. But I will not regret for you, I will always remember you with love and happy memories. I will be that happy person who does not regret. I am grateful that you were in my life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZjoQFjE96lL6WuV9UGUF-z8cOq4onpeAyZ2tbx7u6PeU4SVwgq8hf_1luTAOo-fX9gpCJS2gAVqel9sfUzXQxhTKV4lNptEDYdBvLsFErCct7hhW1fQKNLMZf52IuYMW2n9JsyysMAdTw/s1600/travisMORGADOsoldierPIC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZjoQFjE96lL6WuV9UGUF-z8cOq4onpeAyZ2tbx7u6PeU4SVwgq8hf_1luTAOo-fX9gpCJS2gAVqel9sfUzXQxhTKV4lNptEDYdBvLsFErCct7hhW1fQKNLMZf52IuYMW2n9JsyysMAdTw/s320/travisMORGADOsoldierPIC.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R.I.P Lt. Travis Morgado, my friend</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Love,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Nadia</div>
<br />
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-77484664542398355022012-04-21T04:08:00.000-07:002012-04-23T22:31:03.152-07:00To Human is to ConnectIn my <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2012/03/greetings-from-vietnam.html">last post</a> I was in beautiful Vietnam. Over a month has passed since I've been back home and only recently have I felt like I've readjusted to my regular life. The trip was only 2 weeks long, but the experience of the journey and the impression it has made on me is probably stamped upon me forever. I did so much in those two weeks that I feel like I was there much longer (and I have about 5 Facebook albums filled with pictures to prove it, and I STILL haven't uploaded all of them!).<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://robcares.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/1.12-exhausted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://robcares.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/1.12-exhausted.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">seriously, that's too many damn pictures</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From Saigon to Hanoi, and so much in between I built homes, danced with local dancers in a jungle around a roaring bonfire, spent a weekend in one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen in my life, a city so full of lights and floating lanterns that I had to convince myself that I was truly awake and not dreaming during my time there. I swam in the South China Sea, so warm, blue and calming. I took a 15 hour train ride from Central Vietnam to the capital, Hanoi, where I was able to take in Vietnam's coastline, mountains, rice paddies, villages, cities and temples. I kayaked through jutting rock formations rising up from the depths of the ocean in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halong_bay">Halong Bay</a>, a smattering of over 3,000 islands in the Gulf of Tonkin. I spent time the last leg of my trip in Hanoi, which was as cold as Oakland, where I met up with friends of friends who showed me around town and had the opportunity to take photos in an orphanage for developmentally disabled children, many living with the effects of Agent Orange. It was great, beautiful, overwhelming, it was all of that.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4VVMT1s-VGLPC5LEiZyq-lGyr1i-zie1EKpgLhfQK0HlQPUd4GbAyN3H695_yo4Ep3kPC3zHF3CjEKMDG9cPOkXWgYmVK9KRQ-5d9H5zwIphEgYqGP1gvOvLIuvIvG1H5mfYhVDJRf5_/s1600/522508_10101489872295859_8803719_67701087_1898646452_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4VVMT1s-VGLPC5LEiZyq-lGyr1i-zie1EKpgLhfQK0HlQPUd4GbAyN3H695_yo4Ep3kPC3zHF3CjEKMDG9cPOkXWgYmVK9KRQ-5d9H5zwIphEgYqGP1gvOvLIuvIvG1H5mfYhVDJRf5_/s320/522508_10101489872295859_8803719_67701087_1898646452_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh Vietnam, you are SO beautiful</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Yet I was happy to come home, I missed my bed, I missed my cat, I missed knowing my way around a place. I missed my friends and my life. Getting back to my life was like trying to jump onto a treadmill already on full speed. Is it possible to feel like you've lived a few lifetimes in a few weeks? Because that's seriously how I have been feeling since I left for Vietnam! Back in the Bay Area, I practiced then performed for this year's <a href="http://www.southasiansisters.org/">Yoni Ki Baat, the South Asian Version of the Vagina Monologues</a>, where we performed the show three times in one weekend. I am continuing my training at the New Leaders Council, where I am working on an important fundraising event we are hosting to support next year's class (the fundraising event is on May 9, by the way, and you can <a href="https://org2.democracyinaction.org/o/5690/c/664/p/salsa/event/common/public/?event_KEY=48208#Buy_tickets_here">buy tickets here</a>...see I'm doing my job!). And now I have filed my papers to run as a <a href="http://seiu%20uhw%20hq%20-%20oakland%20560%20thomas%20l%20berkley%20way%20oakland,%20ca%2094612/">delegate for my congressional district </a>for the 2012 Democratic National Convention (to vote for me, you need to be part of the 13th Congressional District in CA i.e. Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, Emeryville, Part of San Leandro, voting is on April 29, between 2-3pm at <b style="font-weight: normal;">SEIU UHW HQ - Oakland</b> 560 Thomas L Berkley Way Oakland, CA 94612). I don't usually hear of Bangladeshi Muslim girls running for stuff, so I thought I'd quit <a href="http://nadiawontshutup.blogspot.com/2011/06/represent.html">complaining about how women don't get politically involved</a> and actually do something. Even if it is small, it's a start. A start to what? I really have no idea, but hopefully good, meaningful things.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.gbposters.com/images/gbposters-com/lightbox/b7f7/28825/PP32101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.gbposters.com/images/gbposters-com/lightbox/b7f7/28825/PP32101.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is this considered voter intimidation? Is it working?<br />
Coz I really want you to vote for me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So was this post an outline of my life? Maybe, I think there was supposed to be a deeper meaning in this. There is actually and it's this: since I have returned I have changed. I feel it, it is subtle but it is there with me in every thought. It is this feeling, this deeper understanding of connection. That is what I learned in Vietnam. I was able to build homes with people without speaking the same language. We gesticulated, laughed and shared, all without having a common tongue, or even a common culture. What we did have in common is that we were human, and we had a shared goal...to build that house. And we did it and we became friends, even if we couldn't say it.<br />
<br />
So that colors everything I do. I have always believed that human beings are more similar than different, but this experience has only expanded and informed that belief. And it is coloring every action and thought I have had since coming back. I felt this connection when I was at a Tibetan prayer vigil to pay respects to the victims of the <a href="http://www.insidebayarea.com/oakland-tribune/ci_20319366/oakland-university-shooting-oikos-vice-president-address-mourners?source=pkg">tragic Oikos University shooting in Oakland</a>. Everyone was chanting, with monks leading the chant. Tears were flowing and people were praying in unison. It was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganachakra">Buddhist ceremony</a>, where everyone prayed to the departed's soul, since it is believed that if someone departs the world in violence their soul gets lost. It was in essence, a soul-calling or soul retrieval ceremony. In this ceremony, one I had never experienced, I still felt connected in this human element of grief, of understanding loss and tragedy, beyond religion, or language or physical appearance.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mercphotos.slideshowpro.com/albums/044/363/album-318894/cache/0403tibet_05.sjpg_900_540_0_95_1_50_50.sjpg?1335005138" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://mercphotos.slideshowpro.com/albums/044/363/album-318894/cache/0403tibet_05.sjpg_900_540_0_95_1_50_50.sjpg?1335005138" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tibetan prayer vigil for the Oikos University tragedy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I feel as if something shifted and deepened deep inside. The world can be an ugly place and people can do ugly things. I can still be jaded, angry and even depressed at times at the state of affairs around me, yet I never deny that I am a part of it all. The good and the bad. Regardless, I feel this stronger bond to my humanity and the humanity of others. So travel and see people, try to learn about people and relate to them. Because as much as we see skin color, borders, socioeconomic statuses, race, religion and all of those divisions, above all of that we are human, and that is a truth that cannot be denied.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.troll.me/images/bert/im-in-the-zone-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.troll.me/images/bert/im-in-the-zone-thumb.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">aaand that is my truthiness for the day...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8881035089700666236.post-25385550638100318962012-03-02T02:49:00.002-08:002012-03-02T03:24:04.329-08:00Greetings from Vietnam<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP8YzoBAOpObzNva-UPeflXVlS1ETpYByDKtxE7VSCgiE6A5e25bgdFql9Yq_TM5xwPyFCSS7vtAZ6Z6laIpKkzwezZKN5f0E72TxBZFLSDSU66Y5G7FNX3GKoMY6X_eS8wJpT6hmxuOA_/s1600/IMG_3548-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP8YzoBAOpObzNva-UPeflXVlS1ETpYByDKtxE7VSCgiE6A5e25bgdFql9Yq_TM5xwPyFCSS7vtAZ6Z6laIpKkzwezZKN5f0E72TxBZFLSDSU66Y5G7FNX3GKoMY6X_eS8wJpT6hmxuOA_/s320/IMG_3548-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Central Vietnam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm in Vietnam! I've been here since last Saturday, after a surprisingly fun plane trip on Cathay Pacific (I think I watched four on flight movies). The Habitat team and I landed in Ho Chi Minh City, otherwise known as Saigon and then headed to Central Vietnam, where we would be building.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIazBhH5XRzriUyq772YaLtvARfZoai7ybuzjPaqwxIgkdeoUkxti7RtvuwH_3yP6ed4UUE4FBYwVz7l9ROkVLXw9CcmcnuKCMAfMoN2inAOtMP2mUuw0NnR2NwF9XdoHLZRwSNfTYyVo/s1600/_MG_3349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIazBhH5XRzriUyq772YaLtvARfZoai7ybuzjPaqwxIgkdeoUkxti7RtvuwH_3yP6ed4UUE4FBYwVz7l9ROkVLXw9CcmcnuKCMAfMoN2inAOtMP2mUuw0NnR2NwF9XdoHLZRwSNfTYyVo/s320/_MG_3349.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ahoy Hong Kong! too bad I couldn't step out</td></tr>
</tbody></table>What to say? There's so much! I can say that Ho Chi Minh City surprised me, the only experience I've had with an Asian city is Dhaka, Bangladesh and that city is CRAZY. Though I love Dhaka, it's insanely overcrowded, dirty and completely chaotic ( to be fair, last time I was there I was 12, so maybe things have changed!). Ho Chi Minh City is pretty clean and people actually follow traffic laws. It's a great city to walk around with food stores EVERYWHERE.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQ72RX0S3NfykjNnsxa_ugysHf3-NNKeoZJRtL7IJLBCxbkWja4muOwcHghMmUVwhVqfJPoHrfxk3jA81bBp2_hJWZkz5zN4yBKmsVczi4i0bIlHSYYVR-vhZeXGRvijSznW7l2RvBTYU/s1600/_MG_3415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQ72RX0S3NfykjNnsxa_ugysHf3-NNKeoZJRtL7IJLBCxbkWja4muOwcHghMmUVwhVqfJPoHrfxk3jA81bBp2_hJWZkz5zN4yBKmsVczi4i0bIlHSYYVR-vhZeXGRvijSznW7l2RvBTYU/s320/_MG_3415.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saigon in the evening</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Near our hotel was a fairly large park, where people came out en masse to take outdoors aerobic classes (which I think were free) and large groups of men and young boys were kicking around hackeysacks and shuttlecocks. This probably explains why I haven't seen any obese people in Vietnam, the food is so healthy and everyone is so damn active! I think the states can take some pointers, the public parks in HCMC are pretty amazing and they even have public exercise machines that anyone can use!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuOqmXjTf154UdjlwJJw1Y-FBxNoIm6MX-6NLI9tK6jF_VkbwVmEyo_t0ZxnPCrfGTUShQOysqXS0S2GfIHsNPGA2HoaS6tYpNBiI8GCi77BCPWXKzhX-MySOGWvGmKZckq4_asE2mPvU/s1600/_MG_3420.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuOqmXjTf154UdjlwJJw1Y-FBxNoIm6MX-6NLI9tK6jF_VkbwVmEyo_t0ZxnPCrfGTUShQOysqXS0S2GfIHsNPGA2HoaS6tYpNBiI8GCi77BCPWXKzhX-MySOGWvGmKZckq4_asE2mPvU/s320/_MG_3420.JPG" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">taking a picture of boys playing right before getting bonked in the face</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The food is amazing, as I'm sure most people know, I can eat pho 24/7, the street food has been more impressive than the restaurants so far, and I can't get enough of tropical fruits, it reminds me of Bangladesh!<br />
<br />
Ho Chi Minh City was fun, but the central countryside of the Quang Nam province is breathtaking. I've been told that Vietnam is beautiful, but even that was an understatement. When we first got here we were able to visit Marble Mountain, huge outgrowths of Marble that were turned into gorgeous temples and shrines for worship. The shrines and Buddha statues are built into countless hidden caves, it was easily of the most beautiful places I've visited, I felt like I had traveled through time. It was also a hiding place for the Vietcong during the Vietnam War and even today bears the bullet holes from the conflict.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bi8AqxvqNI1Pdp-OJgfzaPJcxJk9cuxPp0udZtyTMDlvhaV08ERKONw3eF6-Hw34wVNQ9mDYXwJKmRrdFnekFI4hU3QQ4GBpukEt3N9DqYgSyHdNV0egoOUiFy_J5h4s-b9MfslEG5Q1/s1600/_MG_3711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bi8AqxvqNI1Pdp-OJgfzaPJcxJk9cuxPp0udZtyTMDlvhaV08ERKONw3eF6-Hw34wVNQ9mDYXwJKmRrdFnekFI4hU3QQ4GBpukEt3N9DqYgSyHdNV0egoOUiFy_J5h4s-b9MfslEG5Q1/s320/_MG_3711.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shrine carved out of Marble Mountain</td></tr>
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The area I am currently blogging from is astounding with large lush rolling mountains framing bright green rice paddies that go as far as the eye can see. Amongst the paddies you can see farmers with conical hats leading huge water buffalo, it's just like the paintings and books described, except this is real!<br />
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The scenery is amazing, but it's the Vietnamese people that have impressed me so much during my trip. Everyone is super friendly, and unlike people that may come to Vietnam as tourists, I was lucky enough to be part of development efforts with Habitat for Humanity, where I worked directly with a family to build their home in the countryside in the city of Hiep Duc.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqzZe1imGb8j4jV3BH9LnIQt1Iwe-bylHLIlIN3rfUReQakkcAEjQB3Lc4yVMtQRkH4HSxqa3okNtL0eZ4gZl62-VR6fmPrSrishDpXOo2NTBCFqmx70EuskJ7BG2K0M6C4MaVUPzhTLG/s1600/_MG_3873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqzZe1imGb8j4jV3BH9LnIQt1Iwe-bylHLIlIN3rfUReQakkcAEjQB3Lc4yVMtQRkH4HSxqa3okNtL0eZ4gZl62-VR6fmPrSrishDpXOo2NTBCFqmx70EuskJ7BG2K0M6C4MaVUPzhTLG/s320/_MG_3873.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">working hard to build homes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The family has been so warm, welcoming and appreciative. Our group and the family, including their extended relatives have manages to become close and build this house together despite cultural differences and almost no language communication. The youngest son of the family is a riot, and always comes up to us with a huge mischievous smile on his face.<br />
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After building 2 days ago, we decided to play volleyball with the locals, and the entire neighborhood came out to watch us play. Vietnamese and American were on the same team, and we laughed, shouted and kicked ass at Volleyball, while some Habitat team members ended up getting bombarded with children, who wanted piggy back rides and their pictures taken, with the requisite peace sign (every kid throws up a peace sign when i take their picture, it's hilarious and really cute).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2YISyy9bTJBtmtJp780IdZDFoVbD3Iiswu3hQHMWiDMrw1axKaYBvg_FwGWSViOGNMjrCyfqdFGl4E5PEtX3KlNJkFT8QqnaPfEW7-q9jWsDJjZR2Bg8JTKKMjy2WU6lYAGbIEkvbmEQd/s1600/_MG_3890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2YISyy9bTJBtmtJp780IdZDFoVbD3Iiswu3hQHMWiDMrw1axKaYBvg_FwGWSViOGNMjrCyfqdFGl4E5PEtX3KlNJkFT8QqnaPfEW7-q9jWsDJjZR2Bg8JTKKMjy2WU6lYAGbIEkvbmEQd/s200/_MG_3890.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The son of the family we biult with</td></tr>
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And last night was pretty crazy finally to my team and I's last night in Hiep Duc. Government officials threw what can be best describes as a mini concert where our Habitat crew and locals had a on stage cultural echange of music, singing and other talents. A teacher and local government officials sang songs in Vietnamese, while Roberto and I did a capoeira demonstration, our team leader Janet led the crowd in a stirring rendition of "head, shoulders, knees and toes", and our entire team came together for an acapella version of "Eye of the Tiger".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsn5PDrTVOW3_lgr1VzvTL2E12HblcN63f2w0GYic0C77wokxMvcZe5xowTlWRZXqHaMTlL1KLSIsVxGmb_coVjkWHMZ5bQansGrGvD5YEwhOETlaopUlKeIEsbk-WnhCovue25kbmiblx/s1600/_MG_4203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsn5PDrTVOW3_lgr1VzvTL2E12HblcN63f2w0GYic0C77wokxMvcZe5xowTlWRZXqHaMTlL1KLSIsVxGmb_coVjkWHMZ5bQansGrGvD5YEwhOETlaopUlKeIEsbk-WnhCovue25kbmiblx/s320/_MG_4203.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dancing around the fire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The pinnacle of the night was when cultural dancers (whom I think were indigenous) has us join them in a dance around a huge bonfire. All of this was unexpected, I don't even think our team leader knew about the bonfire dance. While the fire was still raging, we were asked to join in a ceremonial drinking of rice wine with locals and Vietnamese government officials. Drinking rice wine out of a huge vat with a government official across from me with a raging bonfire behind me was probably one of the most surreal moments of my life...and it was awesome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaH63mL4jJVRtGZz8gLEz1GbWLqzZlLVoJeqvn4oJDJMmJLGkSrGV6hrGCAQpeEszDLZ3Wjk901XhboOn1SbTjdcMb8gerBh8EPD9CrDd-I2JDAj4CKNYS7s-oY2Z3Ug94TOo1C_2Wfg7/s1600/_MG_4206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaH63mL4jJVRtGZz8gLEz1GbWLqzZlLVoJeqvn4oJDJMmJLGkSrGV6hrGCAQpeEszDLZ3Wjk901XhboOn1SbTjdcMb8gerBh8EPD9CrDd-I2JDAj4CKNYS7s-oY2Z3Ug94TOo1C_2Wfg7/s320/_MG_4206.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">chugging rice wine with government officials</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Today is our last day in Hiep Duc, I will be sad to leave, I know that we will miss the families and they will miss us. We bonded, sweating while digging, laying bricks, and making mortar can do that. I am grateful for Habitat San Francisco's involvement in Vietnam. Our chapter gives more money to Vuietnam than any chapter in the world. Not only do we take trips to build homes here, we provide $100,000 in donations with each trip. $100,000 can build many more homes in Vietnam than can ever be built in the US with that money. It is good to know that the contribution of so many of my friends who have helped me fundraise is helping to make the building of homes for families in Vietnam a sustainable cause.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk0s69TYuSrxlQJJ3Mk38r65lWbL4D79zn8Svx6M7etrzX33zQvsMa5IaK-6VROy8UmGVNXd9xXuq8-O1NM7FDfduHoWznX31CQYS3LNl1A6_V1Ybul4d-wPcNgqp5YhPD1PfsFL12nBK/s1600/Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk0s69TYuSrxlQJJ3Mk38r65lWbL4D79zn8Svx6M7etrzX33zQvsMa5IaK-6VROy8UmGVNXd9xXuq8-O1NM7FDfduHoWznX31CQYS3LNl1A6_V1Ybul4d-wPcNgqp5YhPD1PfsFL12nBK/s320/Group.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Habitat for Humanity group, from SF to Vietnam!</td></tr>
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Off to the historic city of Hoi An, then to beautiful Halong Bay and then Hanoi. I can't wait.<br />
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Oh and also<br />
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I love Vietnam!!S. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15975288897141499750noreply@blogger.com1