Entry 08

Aug. 20, 2004


It's Friday, a holiday.  It has been an amazing week.  Brian has been with the football team and with his family.  I've been hosting four Hawaiian friends from Milolii fishing village, supporting them to edit thousands of photographs and many hours of video from our past year's work in the village. 


We have something on the order of 3000 photos to manipulate:  cropping and illuminating; sorting and formatting; publishing to PDF files and iMovie slide shows.  Our videos represent many visits to the village, documenting opelu fishing, cross-net fishing, throw-net fishing, diving, hula, chanting, singing, story telling and story reading, and of course interviews with elders.  Our goal is to produce a 60 minute "special" for Big Island television; and another for Big Island radio; along with a photo album to be gifted to the Milolii library.  Whew.


Our little studio has certainly come of age.  Last evening there were as many as 10 of us, compacted into the space, each focused in one media circle or another.  Everyone Samoan or Hawaiian.  Patrick, my gifted Samoan friend and musician, playing the keyboard tracks to back-up the ukuleles and voices of Lani and Lei.  It was truly a garage band experience.


I realize that I am in my "zone."  I am a teacher.  I love having a studio.  I teach skills within the contexts of projects.  I feel very lucky to "live Hawaii."  I appreciate the island cultures, perhaps especially at the intersections with "disability."  I want to invite musicians and story-tellers into my world.  The soil has been tilled.


It is 8:00 now, time perhaps to begin the day.  I'd like to purchase Israel's DVD to celebrate his music today.  Brad wired-up the quadraphonic sound.  It would be fun to share Israel's Milolii concert with my friends.  Enough already.

Entry 07

Aug. 13, 2004

Good morning. Good morning. There is mist rising over the city and the ocean beyond. Two freighters rest at anchor. Blue sky emerges through gashes in the grey clouds; a cloudy day preparing for rainbows and sunshine. Sharon phoned last night from the Volcano to report happiness. She raced yesterday and will again today.

Yesterday I set out on my mission to find magnetic clips to hang my royal blue felt on the metal cabinets in the studio; but instead found clips with suction cups which proved to be perfect for the job. Six clips were aligned across the cabinets. The great swath of royal blue was draped, effortlessly, to make the utterly perfect backdrop for puppetry, 3 feet by 6.

I positioned my camera on tripod some feet away, framing a space large enough for two puppets to engage in conversation and mortal combat. I tested the arena by using this cool little hand puppet who looks a bit like me (a gift some years ago from someone who thought they’d found a spitting image). The little guy bobbed and weaved, speaking and singing in a rather odd falsetto voice.

“I am dancing. I am hopping,” the little guy kept singing, with his image filling the TV monitor that took the feed from the camera. It all looked good to me.

Effie, our able department secretary, came in to scout-out the situation; and announced that she knew how to make puppets in her “craftiness” , having learned to sew from her grandmother, and “all you have to do is take a nylon stocking, Jim, and stuff it and then sew dimples on its cheeks…” I was very encouraging, wishing aloud for “local puppets” who might speak pidgin and play ukulele and such. (It never hurts to dream big.)

“Go, Effie, go.”

Today, now, will be the big event, exploring the “chroma key” feature on my video mixer, to see if we can replace the royal blue felt with whatever postcards or images we might substitute as backdrops. In effect, we will try to create the “weather person effect” in which “the talent” stands, talks and gestures in front of a blue screen that becomes transparent to the viewer, who instead sees the weather map or the highway traffic or whatever “backdrop” the studio chooses to substitute. (As I compose this, I’m thinking of the story of the Emperor’sNew Clothes. It’s the same idea, I think.) The technical details of the process are too complicated to explain, but it’s becoming clear in my imagination and the outcomes shall be reported tomorrow.

At seven o’clock last evening I expressed my final “good byes” to my students, 12 of whom were on the phone with me for our final phone conference of the summer. I will genuinely miss that group, realizing that we engaged in quality conversation for more than 10 hours of telephony. It requires plenty of preparation (as with any teaching), but I do believe I have refined my style. For me, the telephone has come of age. I listen now to National Public Radio with a different ear, listening to how the professionals “host” quality conversations. “That is a wonderful idea and well-expressed. Would someone else like to add their voice to the conversation?”

Brian dropped by yesterday, sometime after four o’clock. He had been out and about in the community, attending a board meeting. I barely had time to greet him, as I was already engaged in the dialing madness that is the precursor and punishment for doing phone conferences. He wrote me last night saying he’d probably come by again today, just to see where I am with the puppet madness. Oh, he also picked up a microphone to record his sister on his iPod. I’ll be interested to see how that story unfolds.

My friend Kavita will also drop by this morning. She’s read my blogs and reports some pleasure in the act. “Thank you, kind friend.”

Hi Jim. I just read your 'blog. (Jim's a ‘blogger??) and was completely captivated. One of your gifts is definitely storytelling, digitally and otherwise. It was fun to read.

I was laughing at all the Jim-isms and sleights of phrase you manage and I enjoyed catching up with you that way. Thank you so much for unabashedly sharing.

I also read Brian's blog. Amazing. I really enjoyed his writing as well.

I am still chuckling at the photos one puts up in a 'blog. Both you and Brian had some priceless ones.

I mentioned to my students about this “blogging” thing, suggesting that perhaps kids in classrooms could do likewise - publishing to the world. Surely this could be motivational (to say the least)! One of my students reported, however, that she had approached her building principal about the idea, but had been warned that she would need to assume personal responsibility for anything and everything that her students might publish. “Hmmm, that could certainly serve as a wet blanket.” [I really need to think about all of this. It is all so new and without precedent.] Well, the sky is pretty well cleared now. One of the two freighters is coming-about, perhaps preparing to enter the Sand Island terminal. It’s 8:30. Time to face and embrace the day.


Boat leaves Auasi Harbor for Massacre Bay


Bananas in the umu. Preparing the food.

Entry 06

Aug. 12, 2004

Good morning. "Ahh, the power of patterns." I was set not to compose anything today; but why break with precedent? I believe this makes my 7th day as a blogger.

In yesterday's voice-mail, Brian asked for suggestions for interview questions that he might pose to his sister before her impending departure on Saturday. I did make a list, which I'll attach below, realizing as I was brainstorming the thing that perhaps most of Brian's questions needn't focus on him. Perhaps what he should attend to are questions about his family, such as values and strengths and heritage and style of living - the things that build character and set patterns for education and career. So, anyway, here is what I composed:

Dear Brian,

I received your phone message, via the relay service. Thanks friend. I will try to "brainstorm" a list of questions for Lori... so here goes:

1. What was it about our home life that inspired all of us to go to college?
2. How did our parents communicate the value of hard work and education to us kids?
3. Please share any memories you have about our parents' values toward career and education. 4. When we were younger, how did you perceive me? What expectations did you have for me? Did you wonder about my future?
5. Now that we are older, how do you perceive me? What expectations do you have for me? How do you envision my future?
6. How would you describe our dad?
7. How would you describe our mom?
8. How would you describe Lynn?
9. How would you describe yourself?
10. How would you describe me?
11. How would you describe our family?
12. What are your career aspirations?
13. Could you recall an incident from our childhood that relates to my disability? Perhaps something humorous...
14. What is something we have learned in our family, that might help other families with children with disabilities?
15. What advice would you give to young people with disabilities who are now in junior high or high school (perhaps kids like myself)?
16. What advice would you give to brothers or sisters of siblings with disabilities?
17. What is there about our Japanese heritage that has influenced the way we are?
18. What is it about our Hawaiian "local culture" that makes us different from the mainlanders you are getting to know?
19. What is something about our family that makes you proud?
20. Is there anything else about me that you might want to say so that others might better understand who I am?

Perhaps that is all I can suggest for now, Brian. Does this help? You could pick and choose from this list. You could ask your family to come up with questions. Of course you can and should construct your own. You might construct a list... and then give it to Lori for her to think about, so you aren't catching her by surprise... You could ask Lynn to choose from the list. Or... you could just sit her down and ask her every question, showing no mercy (which is my tendency).

Sincerely, Jim


Brian displays his diploma


Jim finds beauty in Samoa

Entry 05

Aug. 11, 2004

Good morning dear world. Not much to report today (just because of the press of time). My "to do" list is long for this Wednesday.

I did purchase several yards of "royal blue" felt yesterday from an over-stocked fabric shop on Kalakaua Avenue that reminded me of the fabric places in Samoa, where everyone still makes their own clothes. The royal blue bolt sat upright, sandwiched among hundreds of others, at the top of a narrow wooden staircase of an old time 2-story building that except for a miracle should have burned down sometime during our territorial era. I was served by women in aprons, measuring, cutting and folding. It is a world apart. And it felt good to get out.

As soon as I returned to the office, I hung the fabric on the face of our upright cabinet, to create a temporary backdrop for the puppets. Then, after attaching camera to tripod and securing a long cable between camera and laptop, I phoned Sterling to request that he connect via iChat. Sterling complied, complaining that all he saw was a "blue screen."

"That's the whole idea," I retort.

"How so, Jim? What's up with the blue?" Sterling asks.

"Patience, Sterl. Patience," I reply.

Then, sitting beneath the royal blue felt, hardly containing myself with glee, I poke up one of my little stick puppets to make a greeting. The little guy's head snapping left and right, bobbing up and down, his voice babbling like a record played at too high an rpm.

"Hey, Sterling. It's nice to see you," the little guy effuses.

Sterling groans.

Not too much later, Brian returned from an errand. He couldn't contain himself either. This puppet thing was too far out.

Today I'll try to redesign the backdrop; design a set; secure a camera operator; compose a script; recruit a piano player; and let the show begin.

Or perhaps I won't. After all, my "to do" list is a mile long for this Wednesday.

"Did I getcha, Sterling?" Hee, hee.

Entry 04

Aug. 10, 2004


Good morning. It's a blue sky perfect day in Honolulu. Sharon's in Hilo (staying up at Volcano) on Big Island. Sounds like a world apart. I just hope she has some fun. I'm here in our living room which is my window to the world, overlooking downtown Honolulu and the great Pacific beyond. Orchids bloom on our lanai. A freighter, ugly yet functional, sits anchored just beyond the reef. A navy war ship creeps along the horizon. My coffee is double black. Hmmm.


Brian phoned last night to ask if he might use the office for a couple hours this morning for a meeting with a friend who soon departs for the mainland. I said of course. It's no worry for me. I've got plenty to do anyplace, so long as I've got this laptop. Increasingly, my life goes digital. Student "discussions", correspondence, papers and exams, all "down loadable" to this keyboard and screen. Amazing, really.


I think I'm interacting more with my students in this still strange and cyber world than in my face-to-face classes. Everybody gets a voice, whenever, wherever they choose to use it. Hmmm.


Tonight I'll bring together half my students on the telephone (saving the other half 'til Thursday), so 10 of us or so can talk story for a couple of hours about our "exchanges" of the past week. I'm the discussion leader, facilitating from the themes and topics they've written and shared. It's a bit of pressure on me, but I seem to love it. Ahhh, phone conferences. Babies crying. Dogs barking. Voices from far and near. It is most definitely a "different way" to teach.


Yesterday was a bit of a hoot. I hadn't seen Sterling in weeks and weeks. He'd phoned on Sunday to leave a message, asking if I still had life in me. I did; and I resolved to do something to prove it. So, after shopping, I drove to work to "conference" with Brian. He was alone in the office, trying unsuccessfully, I believe, to burn a DVD. Whatever the case, I interrupted his rhythm and we entered into conversation. We "debriefed" for some time about our Saturday "interview" with Grace and his sisters. I came up with this unsurprising discovery, perhaps, that Brian's mom is central to his story.


(A streak of a rainbow is just now arcing across the sky, wispy streaks of red, yellow and turquoise. "Lucky live Hawaii").


I confirmed with Brian both that "American-Japanese" homes are quite "private" and that the "local island style" is not to be "assertive" with authorities. Both of which, if true, would make the stories of his parent's commitment to Brian's "mainstreaming" all the more compelling. [Grace had mentioned the principal who wanted to steer Brian into "special education" which she and her husband found to be utterly unacceptable. So unacceptable, in fact, that they sought out an entirely different school. "Where did this drive come from?"]


And then there was the story of Brian's appointment to "vice president" of his class; only to find that when the "president" left office, Brian was bi-passed in favor of someone else to be the successor. I wonder how Brian and his family felt about that? How are events like these to be interpreted? "Sorry, buddy."


Then there's the fact that all 3 of the kids are now in college. How did that come to pass? What was it in this family that inspired higher education? Was it simply assumed that college was the stepping stone (as in my family)? How did the family organize itself in support of education? Were there computers? Library cards? Rewards for good grades? Places and times for homework? Signs of encouragement and expectation?


So, anyway, around 12:30, I excused myself from our conversation, asking Brian if he might stand-by, for me to drive to Sterling's with a laptop and web cam, so we could try an experiment in video teleconferencing. Brian was all for it. I grabbed up the equipment; bid Brian farewell; drove to the Manoa Starbucks; phoned Sterling for his caffeine order; and arrived at his place soon thereafter. Sterling greeted me at the door. It'd been too long since I'd seen my friend. I led the way. Sterling wheeled into the living room.


"Before we start conversation," I suggested, "let's bring Brian into this thing."


"Let's do it," Sterling agreed.


Sterling has "wireless" internet. To my surprise and relief, the Macintosh found it just as soon as it powered up; and it found our camera, just as soon as we opened iChat and figured out the camera need to be turned on. We found Brian's laptop on our "buddy list" and before we could sip the coffee, he was full screen on our computer, laughing, like us, uncontrollably. What a trip!


We talked story and acted like goof balls for a half hour or more, until Brian received a female visitor (who hugged him on our screen), and soon thereafter excused himself to depart for lower campus in honor of day one of Rainbow Warrior training camp.


"Bye, Brian," we called out, as we watched him exit the studio and close the door. Sterling and I sipped our coffee, peering into my empty world of a studio.


"What in the world is this all about?" I wondered, thinking of parents watching their kids at day care centers; or us catching a cat burglar slipping into the studio, unaware that Sterling and I were on duty. Wow.


We set-up the laptop with camera on top of Sterling's scanner at his workstation. I departed soon thereafter, promising to carry on the "conversation" just as soon as I made it back to campus. And we did. I got back to work by 2:30 and didn't leave 'til after 8:00 - with both of us working at our respective computers, feeling the presence of the other on the screens. I entertained Sterling with an original piano piece called "Downtown", which I'm sure he appreciated (particularly the ending, as Brian would say); and read student papers, trying to embrace this cyber presence of my good friend sharing my space. Hmmm.


I have an idea, by the way. Today, time and destiny permitting, I'll attach a "real camera" to the laptop: a camera on a tripod with a zoom and all that good stuff, so I can take more control over broadcast content.


"Yes. Ummmm Hmmmm. Perhaps I'll do a puppet show for my man, Sterling. Yes, a puppet show might just be the thing."

Hawaii Outdoors

Entry 04

I'll let today's entry serve as another letter to you. Thanks for coming in this morning. Hopefully our world is as you expect it. Silas and I turned it upside down for a few hours yesterday, but I believe I left it in one piece. Silas is a major help. I asked him to "standardize" the iLife software on all our laptops (iTunes, iPhoto, iChat, iMovie, Garage Band and iDVD). I believe we now have 3 laptops, all of which look and feel the same. Silas also installed software for two new Canon scanners that I found on sale at the Apple Store some weeks ago. The scanners are powered off the USB, so they are perfect for portability. As Silas worked, I watched and played original tunes on piano, including one piece called Downtown which ended in a way that I know you would have appreciated. I amplified the microphone through GarageBand, so we strong vocal elements. By adjusting the microphone stand so I could work hands-free, I learned I could sing and talk ever so softly just by nudging my upper lip against the soft wind cover on the microphone and whispering. It is so cool. Talk a little. Play a little. Breathe deeply. Story time.

Next week I've got four guests coming in from Miloli'i (Big Island). They'll stay with us Monday through Saturday (August 16 - 21). I'd been wondering about accommodations (hotels, East-West Center and such), but at Sharon's suggestion I got it nailed at the Hostel International just a couple of doors up mauka. It's clean and safe there, with cooking facilities, outdoor patio and the works. Just 20 bucks a night per person, which is cheaper than a suite down at the Pagoda, and in walking distance to boot. There are six people to a room in bunk beds and lockers. Padlocks are recommended, but the manager says that thievery is not a problem. My friends are Lei, Melissa, Keith and Heilani. All really good people. Hawaiians proud.

This will be my first chance to really train them on our Pacific Voices technologies. We employed the technologies this summer with plenty of kids at camp; but now I've got a chance to really provide training.

We have all kinds of video footage from the Miloli'i Summer Fun camp that I'm hoping we can edit into a worthy piece (including some of the footage you have been "rough cutting"). I would also like to finalize a 100 page photo collage suitable for printing on high quality card stock. Hardy Spoehr, my kind friend, has volunteered to cover costs for 5 or 6 hard copies, at least a couple of which will return to Miloli'i to be made available to the community.

Lei and Melissa are both musicians, having composed many songs together. I'm hoping we can record one or several of their tunes in GarageBand, as I'd like them to appreciate the power of this software. I'd also like to produce a newsletter describing our Summer Fun experience. I'm not yet sure what format that should take. Perhaps we do it in MS Word, or should we try PrintShop? Hmmm. I just wish we had a Mac copy.

I'd also like my visitors to gain experiences interviewing and story-telling. Each of these young people carry a great deal of cultural knowledge themselves. Lei for example was raised by her grandparents. I'm wondering if we could produce an audio CD of stories and recollections. I asked Lei to bring old photos from her collection that perhaps we can scan and share in some creative way. It might be cool for Lei to tell a ghost story using GarageBand, where we could add musical effects. Hmmm.

As you can see, I have high hopes and great expectations. This all coupled with the fact that I really need to be preparing for Fall semester and such. Soooo?. I'm hoping that Rosie, Silas, Lillian, Malia and Brian (if he has a few free hours) can be scheduled in as assistants, associates, consultants, or just plain old "help." Whew.

Meanwhile, it's time to wish you one great day! I'll go to Costco when it first opens at 10:00 a.m. to buy more DV Mini Tapes, and should be to the office by 11:00. Silas explained to me how to make "disk images" of the DVD's you're producing, so we can create a virtual archive of our disks. It sounds like a good idea, so long as we've got the disk space. Take care. Make yourself at home. Don't take any wooden nickels. *Oh, let's get a laptop with camera over to Sterling, so we can grace our environs with his cheerful face. Want to?


The new opelu canoe, Miloli'i

Entry 03

Aug. 08, 2004

“Good morning, good morning. Our day has begun.” It is 9:30, Sunday morning. I’m alone in the house, having taken Sharon and friends to the airport in what seemed like the middle of the night (actually, 4:30 a.m.). Sharon’s gone to Hilo for the week, encouraging me to come over, if I’d like, but I don’t think I’ll make it happen. I’m fixed, perhaps, on trying to “make a life” here.

Brian and his mom and two sisters came to the studio yesterday. I think Brian was expecting that we would “interview” his sisters; but I didn’t think we were ready for anything so “formal.” I brought in chairs from the hall. Brian’s twin sisters, Lynn and Lori, both college students from the mainland, sat facing Brian, with their bare legs tucked up under them. Both of them in shorts. The AC must have been on full-blast, because it was cold, perhaps not as iceberg cold as some days, but cold. Grace sat on the carpet. I offered to bring in one more chair from the hall, but she declined. I hope she wasn’t simply “accommodating” me, thinking that we were tight on space. “Please know, Grace, there’s always room for another chair.”

I turned off the ceiling lights, turning on instead the four lamps that Brian and I seem to prefer. No music was playing. No computers were on. The televisions remained dark. We were reduced to yellow and golden light radiating into our circle. Five of us. Brian with his talker on his lap tray. I introduced myself to Brian’s sisters, both of whom are here on summer break from their respective colleges on the mainland. Writing their names on a piece of paper. Wanting to get it right. Three college kids. One mom. And me.

I didn’t want to steal Brian’s thunder. I wasn’t sure of the agenda. Brian was looking at me. There was silence. Not an uncomfortable silence. More a silence of expectation and beginning. I asked Brian if he wanted me to introduce the meeting with a statement of purpose. He nodded in affirmation. So I explained the story of how Brian and I were engaging in a process of digital story telling, attempting to identify the elements in Brian’s life that have led to his success in school; and that of course “family” is central to any such story. We appreciated that we were all together in the spirit of supporting Brian to fulfill his destiny.

It took me a while to explain all of this. Everyone seemed to be giving full attention. Things felt real.

I suggested that perhaps it would be best if we just “talked story” for the afternoon, not making any “formal” recording thing out of it. Just talk story. Suggesting that afterwards we’d all have things to think about, in preparation for a future meeting. [Looking back on this event, I think it was a good strategy. Things stayed relaxed. And we talked.]

I started by asking questions of my own, perhaps some of the “stock” questions that I’ve practiced over some years. “Can you share any remembrances of your childhoods with Brian?” “What was it like to have Brian as a brother?” “What did you guys do together?” “What were the values in your home that led all three of you to go to college?” Questions like that… Then Grace and Brian began asking questions also. It is not my place to share the conversation, however. We will wait to see what Brian and his family decide.

It is enough to say here that it was a couple of hours very well spent, ending with Brian’s request that we meet again before his sisters’ departures.

[It’s funny, but right now as I’m imagining a more formalized follow-up interview, I’m wondering if we might explore a video teleconference, using our laptop iMac and iSight camera, with Brian interviewing his sisters from his home; and me participating from a distance. I don’t know. Perhaps too weird. But, sometimes things are remembered and said at home in ways far different than in a windowless studio. Hmmm.]

We all walked outside. Grace must have gone ahead, because the lift was already down on the family van. The parking lot was near empty. Lori and Lynn sat on the bench seat in the back, as Brian rolled in, maneuvering his chair in the open space in the center. His sisters secured the chair with the safety straps, then Lynn joined her mother up front. The lift retracted. The side door closed. We said our good byes and with Grace driving they were off. I pretended to direct traffic as they circled the empty parking lot. I always do that. It’s fun to halt traffic with the left hand, and wave people on with the right. There were no vehicles in the lot of course, except for the 18-wheelers that populate my imagination. I halted everyone of them to let Grace and her family pass.

American Samoa