I don’t like when people make sweeping generalizations about entire groups of people. Those generalizations become nothing more than veiled accusations of the most dastardly kind and it just serves no purpose but to spread hatred and angst. Rebel! It is our duty to change that which we can but rebel FOR something. Today is Sunday, a day of rest for most of us. Give your maleficence a break and smile with your enemy. He’s hurting just as much as you.
Year: 2012
Daily Dingleberry 01-14-12
Watched “Iron Lady” about Margaret Thatcher and it was a remarkable portrayal. Well it’s Meryl Streep, how bad could it be? But it was so stark a realization, to see this one lady surrounded by barking, patronizing, condescending men. No matter what we think of her, she fought a fight few of us could fathom, much less actually do. So, that brings me to the thought: why do we show such disrespect for our leaders? Ok, Ok…don’t shoot me! You can’t catch me anyway, I fly too fast 🙂 But really ponder: what must it be like to be a leader of a third world country, surrounded by the big, intimidating goons of the world? Can you do it? Would you know what to say? how to say it? how to dress? which fork to use? It is a daunting task so before you spew more vitriol and call our leaders horrible derogatory names, take a step back and show some respect, if nothing else for the fact that they are doing what you can’t or won’t. Her adviser said to her “Margaret, if you want to change your party, lead it. You want to change your country, lead it!” So stop talking and start doing lovers!!!!! Or else, sit down and shut the hell up!!!!
Re-View of Twocanview
The following is a reply I made to Aria’s post “Grade ‘F'” published on 01-10-12. As the debate on other pages heats up, I feel it bears further examination and continued discussion. We are watching Jamaica decide whether or not to remove the Queen as head of state and naturally we ask ourselves this question. It is important that we assess the situation from our unique position. We are not Jamaica. We are not Trinidad. We have to consider our culture, continued development as a new nation, our economy, our influences etc.
All of these assertions are true and any one of them is problematic and stymies true growth. Together, they become overwhelming obstacles. When looked through the lens of post-colonialism, however, the entire situation makes absolute sense. It is unfortunate, that in our zeal to become independent, we attempted to distance ourselves from all vestiges of anything resembling dependence and frankly, we didn’t have our big girl panties on. We hacked at the branches and tried to kill that tree but our roots were too deep and eventually, we were once again shadowed by colonialism’s canopy. On the outset, we appeared independent but what needed to become most independent didn’t. That, was our way of thinking. We are still waiting for someone to do it for us; we are still waiting for the second coming – a saviour who takes away all this chaos and solves our problems for us. How is that working for you? Daddy Colonialism and Mommy Commonwealth has done us a great disservice. They have created a situation of learned helplessness. The British Empire treated their subjects like children, incapable of making good decisions, incapable of being self-sufficient and in an attempt to break away, we cut off our noses to spite our faces. We have to revisit the impact of colonialism if we are to find the strength to overcome its devastation. Instead of being ashamed and embarking on denial to the point of destroying our heritage and history (referring to rewriting history or eliminating it completely to actually tearing down parks, bridges, monuments, anything that was British, under the guise of renovating/remodeling), we need to embrace that part of ourselves. Like it or not, they are our ancestors and I really think our great great grandparents would not appreciate that we are not only denying the British presence but we deny their struggle and survival too. We are survivors of the rape of our country, our people. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen or else we will never disembark from this self destructive path we find ourselves careening down. Let’s stop blaming the victims but lets also stop being the victims.
-Fayemarie, the other half of Twocanview
Thoughts? Rebuttals? Lemme hear it lovers 🙂
Who’s Who on Twocanview -Aria Lightfoot
On Faye’s initiative , I am writing my bio and my story leading up this blog for my readers.
Who I am is an ongoing journey in my life. The complexities of whom I am would likely bore most however, here goes:
I was born in Belize City but grew up in Belmopan. My parents were both career civil servants and were one of the “founding families” of Belmopan. As civil servants from the old colonial Belize, they were very ethics oriented and very much dedicated to their professions. My Mother and Father (both deceased) are still very influential in my life today. Both my parents were extremely intelligent and therefore having an intelligent child as myself was almost a given. J
My grandmother told me that when I was only two years old, I would beg her to go to the Indian shop next door to her house on South Street in Belize City. She said to me: “Aria, If I send you to the shop with 10 cents to buy something for 2 cents, how much change will you get” she said I sat and thought it out a while and said “Granny, why don’t you just send me to the shop with two cents to buy something for 2 cents! ” Need I say more..lol
As a student growing up, I excelled in school without studying much and without strict parents (I wish they were stricter with me on this). I would get lost reading our of encyclopedias. I use look things up to learn about it because I wanted to learn about everything. On the pleasure side of reading I enjoyed my mom’s collection of Sidney Sheldon books, Tom Clancy and Danielle Steel and some other hot romances, I was not suppose to be reading. I also enjoyed documentaries and biographies.
I am very nostalgic about growing up in Belmopan. May have been one of George Price’s greatest vision (before the politics began eroding the fabric we see today). Growing up in pan as it is affectionately known, was a very rich experience. I participated in ballet, contemporary dancing, youth groups, basketball and volleyball. I explored everywhere on my bike and on foot, visited nearby rivers and parks. I also traveled a bit as a kid, all over Belize and North America. My aunt was an archaeologist, so we visited many Maya Ruins. I was a big tomboy and as such was constantly chastised to sit properly, don’t whistle “ A whistling woman will never see the gates of heaven” , stop running around with the boys, stop with all the sports etc. I always challenged my Mom and others on these gender roles and use to ask her why would God give us the ability to do things men do, if we are not suppose to. As a child I have always challenged accepted status quo, especially when it came to the limitation of women. Honestly my parents spoiled me and I appreciate them for allowing me to grow in my own path.
One of my highlight (and so I thought), was meeting Philip Michael Thomas, the heartthrob from Miami Vice because my mom was a protocol officer at the time . I spent hours dressing up for him ..only for him compliment my sister on how cute she was…that ended my imaginary love affair. J I also got to go to political rallies with friends from opposing parties and found the entire politics rather entertaining . As students from Belmopan, we also got the privilege of visiting the Supreme Court in session and the House of Representatives and we were pretty much exposed to government all the time, so my interest in government is clear.
However, my world was not perfect. Within my diverse family, I experienced prejudice and classicism . My Mom married a poor black village bway who was a “nobody” police, while her friends and cousins and even siblings were marrying businessmen, “brand name men” (as I love to call them), foreigners etc. and in the social world of Belize creoles that was a “no no”…On my mom’s side of the family, the beauty of hair length, texture and everything Eurocentric was celebrated. One cousin even denied we were related once, obviously too poor to be affiliated with her. On my dad’s side, my cousins called me “white woman” and tease me because of the complexion of my skin. Such messages were confusing to me as a child as I personally could not see a difference, in my child brain, it seems that we were just all different shades of brown and I surely didn’t feel poor. “I didn’t know I was different until someone took the time to point it out” . It had a significant impact to shape who I am as a person. I realized from early that the outside of a person is the least important characteristic of that person.
I went off to SJC 6th form after high school. It was definitely a culture shock for me. The social dividing lines were prominent. People socialized based on status and similar economic background. It exposed me to the realization of the prejudices that is pervasive in our politics today. It was also the year of elections, the first time I actually got involved as a foot soldier, talking to people about voting and making a difference and the first time voting. At that time, politics was insignificant the day after elections was over.
My first year at 6th form years was also one of the most devastating chapters in my life. In 1991 my mom passed away from breast cancer. A disease that came back far more aggressive the second time around. She was my rock, I became a shell of a person for a while as I struggled with such a major change in my early life. All my pursuits was put on pause. I was accepted to the University of Toronto and did not pursue that avenue any further. The 90’s was not over with major losses and turned out to be the most devastating decade of my life. My mom and her two sisters fell victims to breast cancer. My uncle’s wife passed away and then my father. The most influential, foundational and important influences were gone. The biggest cheerleaders in my life were wiped away…in God’s saving grace my son was born in 1995 and it gave me some revitalization of the importance of my dreams.
After 6th form I worked for the airlines and the bank. The jobs were purposeless in making a difference, but secure and comfortable and eventually not for me. I worked at Prosecution Branch in 1999 and that job reignited the dimming light inside me. Working for government (against all the previous advice of my mom) was a difference between night and day, especially coming out of the private sector. The laziness and apathy was unbelievable. The corruption was rampant and the victims were the poor and uneducated and people without access to legal counseling. During my tenure there, I was offered bribes for cases, victim of political interference in cases, witness to unethical behavior of Bar members. The shocking perpetrators of such behavior made me realize I needed to continue pursing my dreams outside this corruptive environment. I walked out of that office with a clear conscience, never taking a bride, never prosecuting an innocent person and never succumbing to such an environment.
At the time, the Canadian Embassy was above the Prosecution Branch, I went upstairs, got an application (the internet was new for Belize), applied online to York University in Canada and the University of South Florida and got accepted to both colleges. The Canadian Embassy was a long arduous process, the US embassy was far more efficient and less bureaucratic, so I ended up in Tampa studying Political Science at the University of South Florida. I have a BA in political Science and excelled in that program. I have also completed one year of law school here in the US, but withdrew and today I am back at USF pursing a Masters in Public Administration.
I remember telling a businessman before I left Belize, that our country will become progressively worse as we selectively prosecute the poor and also because we have no compassion for our youths. I expressed by growing concern about corruption. A prediction easy to make but one I hate to see come to fruition .
I live in the United States but I read everything Belize. The news, magazines, and occasionally the Newspaper. I listen to all the Belize stations via TuneIn radio. The news has become increasingly alarming as the violence is becoming increasingly worse with attacks now being waged against law abiding citizens. Poverty and desperation is growing in Belize even though oil has been added as a major income earner. Corruption is now blatant and seemingly the order of the day.
I have reached out to other Belizeans about Belize’s situation but most people were oblivious, some were blinded by political affiliation, some defensive or offensive and some flatly didn’t care. Facebook has provided a great outlet to bring to light the growing issues in Belize. However, the idea of change has been growing in me for years. My hope is that Belizeans start addressing our issues from a Belizean perspective and not through the lens of politics if we are to forge a future for our children. Faye was one of the few people who I could debate with intellectually, passionately and even in disagreements, it never became personal. Faye is non-traditional, open minded and not afraid of her opinions. When she was censored on “Friends of Belize” Facebook page I realized that she was just the person that need to be uncensored. So here we are today. We started the face book page on Christmas Day and have had over 1000 hits. Our purpose is clear. We plan to discuss the issues in a serious and humorous way, away from political influence and pressure and hopefully in a balanced perspective. We are also on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/Twocanview. I hope you read, engage, and be part of a change to build a prosperous Belize for our children and many generations after we have gone.
Daily Dingleberry 01-13-12
I cian’t stand when people propose old archaic solutions that have proven ineffective ALREADY!!!!!! OR they insist it will work bc of some anecdotal evidence OR they fail to take into consideration that what works in one situation won’t ever work in another because they fail to take into account CULTURAL/SOCIETAL factors. Belize is like me 🙂 UNIQUE. As such, we really need to be careful about what changes we implement. Our people are a strange combination of fiercely independent, refusing to be seen as weak or bowing down to authority “nobadi wa tell mi wot fi do!” to very disorganized and under motivated. Figure out how to maneuver that, and you will find the winning solution. In the meantime, STOP REINVENTING THE BLOODY WHEEL!!!!! AND STOP SPOUTING USELESS RHETORIC!!!!
Corruption and Hypocrisy – by Aria Lightfoot
Corruption. Social Security corruption is just another example of my previous blog. (Grade “F”). A decline in the ethical standards of our society. Part of the problem in our country is this accepted belief that when one person blatantly and corruptively thrives in Belize, there is nothing wrong to if others conduct in similar behavior. Our society will continue to decline until we are so sick of it that that we put barriers and serious consequences in place to offset it. Shame! Shame! Shame! on the Social Security employees that engaged or encouraged corruption. The average Belizean worker pays their hard earn money, hoping to receive some benefit when they enter into their golden years, only to be mercilessly raped by those who are responsible for the public trust.
Social Security is just the tip of the iceberg. It seems to me that the allegations suggests a culture and comfort with such behavior. If someone knows something is wrong, they would act covertly. Hide their actions, be ashamed. These Social Security individuals allegedly went around advertising and encouraging other staff members to get in on the tax payers money grab. I am personally disgusted and sick of it. To hell with some poll suggesting that Belizeans people don’t care about corruption…I do… and even more insulting to the Belize taxpayers is that the same person was charged with investigating corruption of others.. How hypocritical!
Hypocrisy. The worst kind of hypocrisy is the kind when you condemn people, cost them their jobs and you are responsible for similar behavior… case in point, politicians! Until we begin mandating an open society and government, demand everything that involves tax payers money become an open process for review, we will continue in this culture of corruption. House of Representatives members, Senate members, Public Officer and Quasi Public Officers , Cronies, and connected family members- the Belizean tax payer is paying your salary, benefits, extravagant lifestyles, trips around the world etc . Please STOP with the pillaging already! We cant walk the streets, we cant live securely in our homes, we cant afford our daily bread because you are contributing to the growing poverty and social decline by your insatiable greed!
Daily Dingleberry 01-12-12
ENough with the negativity already! Mi granny used to seh “jus cause yu po noh means yu hafi wear yu poverty pan yu sleeve!” Mi other granny used to seh “have fun befo di pin bend and di story end!” So between two philosophies like dat, I can’t help but know dat we don’t need to wallow! Take advantage of all that you take for granted: warmth, nature, wildlife, close friends and family. Tell stupid jokes! Cheer up a friend! And while u at it, chop the yaad and sweep the step! Stop worry bout whe yu noh gat nnd treasure waT u do!!!!! Your kids are watching! Don’t make them feel like they burden you but also don’t apologize for noT being able to buy the latest. Chase a butterfly. Teach them about the birds in their yaad. All the rest da rass!
Daily Dingleberry 01-11-12
Sorry birds! I have been MIA all day but I was busy feathering my nest…so my dingleberry today is I didnt get to spend annnnyyyyy time with y’all 😦
Who is “Who Who” on Twocanview
Who is “Who Who” on Twocanview
Apparently people didn’t find this on the site but it is under “Welcome to Our Blog-Fayemarie Anderson Carter”.
So…who am I? First off, I am a woman. I am a citizen of the world and I belong to no one. I have faced unbelievable circumstances all my life and even before I was born. Basically, I shouldn’t be here. My mother had a difficult pregnancy and was on bed rest the last months. With all the precautions taken and advantages of having a father who was a medical intern, it still didn’t prevent me from being born premature and kinda dead for a while. That should have been the clue to the world “Watch out! She’s a fighter!” Well but, I didn’t always know that and many things knocked me down and there were times I felt hopeless and helpless.
I had a very confusing, complicated childhood. I felt like I had each foot in a different world so that I was constantly trying to balance between them. There were a lot of misconceptions about my family and our intentions. It went from “You’re white, you don’t care”; “You’re rich; why do you care?” to “Oh you’re poor, who cares?” Despite all that, I couldn’t help but grow up with an intense feeling of obligation and sense of civic duty. I was a quiet child (the irony, I know) so I was often unseen as I observed adults (many of whom, became leaders of our communities) discuss, argue, make plans and sound ridiculous. I was in the back of a government vehicle once, when an adviser to a minister (no names) actually recommended that we remove social studies from the elementary school curriculum and I was just stupefied by this intense stupidity. His estimation of social studies was “it is a waste of time”. With this attitude, we wonder why we are where we are????
On the other hand, living in Dangriga, I couldn’t very well insulate and isolate myself from the realities of regular folk. First of all, I lived smack dab in the middle of town. All the shops, the police station, the banks, churches, schools, government offices and the hospital was right there within a two block radius. Secondly, I didn’t want to. I wanted to play “toad” and punta and “bathe sea”. I wanted to crack my supa seed with the door stop by the church. I wanted to “plait” my hair and “walk bout street”. Even if people wanted to think that I was not part of the society because of my parents, my ancestry (I lived on a street named after my paternal family for goodness’ sake) anyone who looked closely would have seen that I faced many of the same issues everyone else did and then some. Not only did I have to wait every day for my dad to see a patient so I could get $10 to buy bread and milk, people wanted us to donate to everything. I always got picked, in school, to donate the most expensive item like a chicken or the cake. Multiply that times 4 Anderson children and that was half our weekly grocery budget.
I was often ashamed and proud at the same time. Crazy making, I tell you. Case in point. My dad loves to spread Christmas cheer to those who wouldn’t otherwise know it. I understood that about my dad and actually, I am so guilty of it myself. The price for that? I wrapped hundreds of gifts for everyone else while my Christmas gift was the bloody Christmas dress I needed to wear to church. Some gift. LOL. Or how about that time I got a blanket, or the time I got a fan? (I was glad for it don’t mind me) but I was a kid too dammit and I wanted toys! I really did only have two church dresses. My snobbish middle class friends loved to make feel me inferior because they had the latest styles from “States” and would tell me things like “Gial, u noh fraid da dress staat to talk?” Stupid, mean girls.
The blessing of this kind of upbringing is that I learned to empathize. I learned what it feels like to not belong and I didn’t belong anywhere. Too po fi di rich pipple, too white fi di po pipple and when I moved to the States, not white enough for the Americans. So, I learned to like myself. I had to. Nobody else did! I read and read and read. I would get lashin’ because I was reading books and not washing the dishes or I let the clothes get wet on the line because I forgot to pick them in. I learned to make toys out of old seasoning cans and match boxes; I turned them into doll house furniture. I made dolls out of mangoes and tried to sew my own doll clothes (I say try because I often made them too tight LOL). Books were like gold to me. Everything I read, I depended on the library for so that the highlight of my year, was when the ship came from England with new library books. I read about Judy and Maisy and nothing was more hotly traded than the latest Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys book. When I was actually GIVEN a book, I treasured it and read and reread till it damn near fell apart. I still had the books Mary K Carridi (I called her Aunt Kath, back then) gave me until 1998 when I left them with my parents, not knowing that they would be following me not a few months later. Sorry, Kathy, but I think the books, a copy of Jack and Jill published in 1898 and B is for Betsy, were lost in one of the hurricanes . Those books, the latter, especially, gave me dreams of another kind of childhood, filled with pink clouds and fantasy, sweet memory for sure.
Today, I am married to an American and I have two girls, 19 and 10. I have lived in different countries and states. Just look at my Facebook page and you’ll see all the colleges/universities I “visited” 🙂 I graduated in 2006 from Adler Graduate School with an MA in Counseling Psychology but I haven’t written my thesis yet (long story) so I may never actually get that piece of paper :P. Fingers crossed, I’ll get it done soon now that I am a work at home mom, again. Before now, I worked in the Bloomington, MN school system as a contracted therapist/case manager in a special education program. I worked with children and families struggling with challenges that come with diagnoses of emotional/behavioural disorders such as ADHD, ODD, Bi-polar, Depression, Anxiety, Autism.
I was asked by Aria Lightfoot to be part of this blog addressing the issues facing our Belizean people and I didn’t hesitate for more than a second. Politics have scarred my heart but I decided to take a chance anyway and be a part of what I hope becomes known as a “revolution”. I hope to impart knowledge and insight but mostly compassion and empathy for our fellow citizens. We won’t get anywhere if we don’t understand that we are all in it together. Blue and Red makes PURPLE and that’s where we are: bruised and battered.

