April 1 - May 2

A Little Something, The Denver Refugee Women's Crafts Initiative, is excited and honored to be part of a new new exhibit at TACtile Textile Arts Center in Denver.

Worldly Open House
Sunday, April 19
1:00 - 4:00

Meet the women of A Little Something as well as the founders of the participating humanitarian groups as they share information about their work and the artisan crafts from the many developing countries featured...North and South Laos, Vietnam, Uganda, Guatamala, and Denver refugee women. Private collectors will also speak about the exquisite works they have chosen from many more countries around the globe.

In addition to the exhibit of private textile collections, textile items will be for sale from six Colorado non-profit humanitarian assistance organizations that see textile work as art that can elevate lives.
Other participants include:

• Indigo Threads, working in rural Laos to help with the sale of traditional crafts and to provide opportunities to school-aged children.

• Bridging Hope works directly with underprivileged women and children in Vietnam helping them attain sustainable living conditions.

• Silks of Laos provides sustainable income for silk weavers in northern Laos, South-East Asia. Training equips them with the skills needed to participate in fair-trade projects in northern Laos and to avoid human trafficking that is so prevalent in these rural areas.

• Cielo Maya (Maya Heaven)is a Guatemalan economic development association led by Tz'utujil Maya women. The sales of their handwoven wearable art provide decent wages, leadership development and educational opportunities for the artists.

We hope you'll come to see us at the open house on April 19 or, if you can't, at least stop by the exhibit sometime this month. Escape the stress of your days with a relaxing stroll through the world of textile workmanship and beauty.

Accomplishment and a sense of relief

The idea was ambitious, for sure. A presentation at a large conference of English Language Acquisition professionals--more than 6,000 teachers, researchers, policy makers, grad students, community program managers, publishers, writers, software developers, UNHCR and IOM language and culture trainers...TESOL is the who's who of the ESL world.

Given the very large number of proposals submitted, the rigor of the adjudication process, and the somewhat off-the-wall nature of the proposal we were putting up for consideration, I could only come to one conclusion about the possibility of presenting: No way.

Way. The proposal was not only accepted, but scheduled as part of a well-promoted group of sessions in a new category of an experimental/experiential genre. Suddenly what looked so feasible on paper was striking me as impossibly ridiculous. Sigh. We have faced challenges before and met them head on, and we could certainly do it again, right? There was nothing on the line at all, really, just my professional reputation and credibility. Oh, that.

Here is how the session abstract appeared in the program book:

Stringing Together Benevolent Enterprise and Basic Skills for Refugee Women

When a group of refugee women and ESL volunteers collaborated on a crafts empowerment project, the context for English and math skills, critical thinking, and business basics came naturally. In this experiential session, presenters explain the project while participants bead and sell under the instruction of the refugee artisans.
Presenters: Sharon McCreary ; Anna Hebbert ; Susan Renick ; Jaime Koehler ; Haiffaa Ali ; Khadiga Ali ; Fatuma Ali

The logistics of getting ready for the session were enormous. Almost anything that could go wrong, certainly did. The end result wasn't quite what I had envisioned, but it was still nothing less than...wonderful.

First, kudos to Katrina Wert for stepping in at the last minute to help fill in some presenter gaps--and for sharing valuable insight she has about the pre-literate refugees she taught so competently and compassionately for the years we worked together. Katrina also assisted Susan with the formidable transportation duties and logistics. Getting the women there was a job in and of itself, but Susan and Katrina got everyone delivered safely and on time.

When it was time to start, the room was full. Haiffaa opened the session by explaining to everyone what we hoped to accomplish during the evening, some of the things the participants would be doing, and then she introduced all of us in our group. And she did it all in Arabic so the group could get a sense of what it must have been like for our BeadWomen when we had our first meetings and lessons.

After some project background and several PowerPoint slides, it was time for Haiffaa, Htee Ku Paw, Sharifo, Fatuma, and Khadiga to be the teachers. Each woman worked with a group and presented lessons in basic jewelry making technique--but each woman did this while speaking no English. It was time for the participants to get a feel for what it's like to learn something fairly complex without the benefit of common language. Htee Ku Paw is not a jewelry maker, so she gave a lesson in basic crochet.

After the crafting lessons, each of the refugee women had the opportunity to address the group and tell her own story or talk about her experience as a member of A Little Something. Haiffaa is a talented public speaker, and she almost brought the group to tears. Khadiga talked about how much she has enjoyed learning something new that she does just for herself. Htee Ku Paw's voice cracked when she said that although she has been weaving since she was eight years old, she never had money before. Being a part of A Little Something has given her a chance to help her family while preserving a treasured cultural art.

At the end of our two-hour session, something amazing happened--almost nobody left. It was after 8:00 p.m., yet most of the attendees stayed to talk to the women and to help us pack up our bajillion beads and the props we used in the presentation. This project seems to foster a sense of community for anyone who spends time with it.

Fatuma rode home with me, and although she's normally pretty quiet, she was nothing short of exuberant during the drive. She talked a lot, and repeatedly thanked me and thanked me for inviting her to be part of the presentation. I had never seen her so confident or happy.

The next morning, at 8:30, my phone rang. It was my boss, who was a conference co-chair. The managers had just finished a breakfast meeting. Apparently, our session was the talk of the meeting. At least two TESOL co-chairs attended our session--but we didn't know that. They were so impressed with the entire presentation, the women, the activities, they made it the topic of the two-hour breakfast meeting.

We should be proud and I realize that, but I was so stressed out by the many obstacles we faced up until the moment when we started, I can only feel relief that the session is over with. The pride I feel is for Fatuma, Haiffaa, Htee Ku Paw, Sharifo, and Khadiga. They brought everything they had to share with the people who attended our session, and they ended up giving more than 100 percent. I know that this job challenged them but they all put their anxieties aside and showed nothing but confidence, patience, and personal strength. I couldn't possibly be any prouder of them. Well done, ladies.

To see these pictures full size, just click on a photo and a new window will open. For best results, manually advance pictures--don't choose slide show.

Full circle and a bit dizzy, Part II

Writing in the wee hours of the morning usually means I stray from the thought that prompted me to blog in the first place. At a more reasonable hour, the original thought comes back, perhaps with some lucidity.

It was deja vu. Saturday had a familiar but distant feel. I was back in the community room at Grace. Refugee women were eagerly leaning in to see what I was demonstrating with my tools and somewhat shaky hands. I am self-conscious about my hand tremor, and the original group of women don't even see it anymore. New women, new self-conscious moment for Sharon.

I picked up each tool as we needed it, and I said its name slowly and clearly. Round nose pliers. Repeat: Round...nose...pliers. Say it with me.

A few minutes later I asked the name of the tool and was met with puzzled looks. I drew a circle in the air. I touched my nose. "Circle face tool!" Reviewing material is so underrated.

Jump ring. I think they pretend to forget just to see me act it out. A plump middle-aged woman jumping around is not to be missed.

We laughed a lot. I cursed the hand tremor, especially on a day when there was no one else there to demonstrate what I cannot so easily. The women asked the same questions those first women asked in the summer of 2007. The mistakes were the same, and the smiles born from success were just as beautiful.

I wanted to be a better teacher. I wanted the women to feel satisfied with their lesson. I wanted them to fall madly in love with jewelry making right from the start. This was familiar territory, but no less exciting on the return trip.

I could see it so clearly: It was possible that this project that started with four women and grew like a healthy, loved baby, could keep repeating itself. This scene unfolding in the community room really could happen again and again. The faces and cultures would change, of course, but the ideas that brought the first group together were sound and they were heartfelt.

Creating beauty in the wake of horror soothes a place deep within the spirit. Learning something new and persisting despite challenges builds confidence. A woman who earns money for herself sees new possibilities in a world fraught with uncertainty. Empowerment is more than just a trendy word; it is a fact and in our project, the women themselves are helping those who come after, who will help the next group and so on.

Here's to many more Saturdays explaining the use of the circle face tool.

Life beyond beads

Fatuma sat in on the Saturday beginner's lesson. She was very quiet despite my attempts at engaging her in conversation.

Fatuma has come a long way in her jewelry-making skills. Still, she needed the refresher lesson. She tried so hard to get everything perfect, she started making more mistakes in frustration. She really was doing well, and by the time she was ready to leave, her work was OK. She said she had something else she needed to do, and out the door she went.

Once the Bhutanese women had tidied up, I headed outside and put my things in the car. I spotted activity in the community garden, so I wandered over to see who was there. Htee Ku Paw, Fatuma, and a couple of the other ALS women have plots in the garden.

Fatuma was hard at work hacking at the dry, compacted soil. Watching her, I saw a stark contrast to the peaceful and gentle jewelry making we had just done together. Fatuma was now bent over, working extremely hard. The jewelry lesson and all things bead-related seemed so frivolous now.

Fatuma's work was unbelievably difficult. She showed me the plot she had last year, where someone had already prepped the soft soil. Fatuma's new area had obviously been neglected. It didn't look promising in terms of drainage or sun exposure. This year's drought hadn't helped the soil any, either.

I noticed that Fatuma was wearing flip-flops. She rubbed her hands and I saw that she had no work gloves. When I said that she needed better gardening shoes, Fatuma looked at her feet for a second and just shrugged. I scanned the garden and realized that almost everyone there--the Somali Bantu group--was working in flip-flops and no one had gloves. It seemed particularly hard for the kids. They haven't grown up farming so their hands are the soft hands of school kids who watch TV when they get home. One of Zahara Mahmud's sons was in obvious pain. Like Fatuma, Zahara also worked without comfort items as she swung a pick into the hard soil. Another jewelry maker in need of decent footwear and some sturdy work gloves.

When I asked Fatuma what she planned to grow in her garden, she said, "Everything!" Upon further questioning, Fatuma decided she wanted to plant cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, broccoli, and maybe corn, plus a few things she can't remember in English. I looked at her woefully neglected garden space and wondered if it would be ready for planting in May. I asked Fatuma where her children were. Why weren't they helping? I thought, This family desperately needs the food that will come out of this garden. Shouldn't everyone contribute to Fatuma's gardening efforts?

Fatuma chuckled and told me that this was her "alone" time; it was quiet for her head. That makes sense--she is the mother of eight children.

Flip-flops. No work gloves. Shared tools. I will never complain about how hard my own garden work is. I work in luxury compared to the A Little Something women scratching at the earth for the same reason they make jewelry: So their families can eat.

Full circle and a bit dizzy

We asked the women who received bead boxes and tools at our big meeting to get together this past Saturday for a jewelry-making lesson. Anna was otherwise busy, Jaime was getting ready for a conference, and Susan had chauffeuring duty to tend to. That left only Sharon. No problem. It's only a couple of women...

Five women were waiting when I arrived, and two more came later. We went over making simple loops for earrings and such, crimping with a crimp tool, attaching findings, and more. It was like speed-reading. We covered several lessons worth of material in a couple of hours. OK, three-and-a-half hours.

The Bhutanese women are jewelry animals. They don't want to wait, so they've been guessing about the technical aspects of jewelry making. Their guesses have been mostly wrong, unfortunately. One teacher was woefully inadequate to work with this incredibly eager group. On the other hand, they have an excellent sense of color, and their designs are gorgeous. I hope that going forward we'll have more teachers to work with this very lovely and spirited group.

Fatuma and Khadiga sat in. I was surprised to see them waiting at the table. I tried to enlist their teaching help, but they wanted to review the skills they'll need to teach on Friday.

Friday. Anna, Susan, Katrina, Fatuma, Khadiga and I--and possibly Haiffaa and Sharifo, are going to do a daring and experiential presentation at the TESOL conference, which happens to be in Denver this year. You can read about our presentation topic here. Wish us luck. This has the potential to be great or else an unmitigated disaster.

Loaves and fishes

For some time now, we've been hoping to have a big meeting with all of the women who participate in A Little Something. After careful planning, we came up with a plan to invite all current members and new women who wanted to join so they could meet in one room and help string together a plan for the future of the project.

We hoped that at least 20 women would come. We sent invitations via mail and word of mouth. We ordered lunch, made activity kits, and hoped we wouldn't be there alone.

We were so not alone. The room was packed. As more and more women arrived, Katrina, Anna, Jaime, Susan, Jean, and I started to get nervous. We didn't have materials for this many women. We certainly hadn't ordered lunch for this many women. How were we ever going to stretch out the supplies and food to accommodate all of these women? Yikes!

It was a busy, creative day. The women mingled, talked, learned about the program, and tried their hand at making stretch bracelets. We distributed jewelry making supplies, lots of yarn, weaving fiber, advice, and encouragement. The rush of women wanting to get started was overwhelming.

In the end, we abandoned the concept of project kits and just dumped beads onto styrofoam trays, two per table. IT fostered sharing and cooperation. There was enough stretch cord so that everyone could make a bracelet and take a spool of the cord home. Somehow, Katrina and Jaime made food for 35 transform into lunch for 50. Don't ask me how they pulled this off but they did and no one walked away unfed. It was some sort of crafty miracle.

Now we just need to conjure up clones of ourselves so we can manage 50 women, go out and give jewelry-making lessons, help the knitters get on track, figure out our ever-perplexing weaving fiber confusion, keep track of everyone and what they're making and what they need to keep making it, and, and, and...I think my head is going to explode.

We need 19-strand wire. We need beads. We need crimp tubes. We need everything. Mostly, though, we need time. Hey, we were able to defy the laws of physics and matter with our beads and a catered lunch, so who knows what we can do with the laws of time? Can someone please conjure up Dr. Einstein?

Here are the first pictures from Saturday. The women here are from Iraq, Somalia, Sudan, Burma, and Bhutan. Special thanks to Beadalon for helping us out with rolls of Elasticity cord.

Team A Little Something kicks off the meeting.

Getting acquainted across cultures.

Susan getting caught up with Haiffaa, an orignal Beadwoman.

Meeting our sisters.

More mingling.

Bhutan checks in.

Cooperative bead stringing with Yashoda and friends.

Their moms couldn't come, but the Bantu girls joined the group.

Htee Ku Paw tries a different craft in the company of Bhutanese friends.

Sharing laughter and wrist sizes.

Namaste.

Find us on Facebook!

We are pleased to announce that A Little Something is now on Facebook. Find our page at A Little Something (The Denver Refugee Women's Craft Initiative) and become a fan today!

There is really no shortage of media coverage about good people doing extraordinary things. I make a point of watching the last five minutes of the national news every Friday night--any broadcast network will do--because those few minutes of the week highlight the contributions of normal people making a remarkable difference in the world.

CNN devotes a whole year of stories to this concept, culminating in distinguishing honors for a group of ten people every year. Not all are from the U.S., but some are. The reason I mention the geography comes from a bit of frustration I tend to harbor. In the course of the year, the volunteer coordinators in the Colorado Refugee Network attend nonprofit fairs throughout the metro area. When people approach our booth for information about our programs, we are frequently asked the same question: "Do you have volunteer positions overseas?" Or, with a measure of disappointment, "Oh. So, you only help people who are here?"

All three of us are quick to point out that a refugee arriving on American shores has just begun a whole new struggle. There are plenty of ways to contribute to world peace and international relations right in the town where you live. Many people are surprised to find out refugees are here at all. If you aren't aware of their presence, it's because they're often all but invisible...Except to those of us who devote our waking hours to this particular cause.

Even those who are familiar with the refugee resettlement program are often unaware of just how truly grassroots most of the programs are. Our programs cannot exist without community support, church partnerships, devoted teachers, tutors for adults and kids, mentors, first friends, a small army of volunteers, plus all of the people who donate money, furniture, household goods, and time setting up apartments and taking refugees to their many appointments. Refugee resettlement works because it takes a community to welcome a new one to the mix, and communities have a way of knowing what to do.

One of CNN's 2009 Heroes is Carolyn Manning of Phoenix, Arizona. I'll say this for CNN: The network has consistently shown a commitment to telling the story of refugees and the resettlement process. That Ms. Manning was chosen to be honored by CNN this year is one more example of CNN's understanding that this work matters.

Carolyn Manning started an organization called The Welcome to America Project. Her program assists newly arrived refugees by furnishing apartments and providing support and guidance in the time immediately after arrival. To find out more about The Welcome to America Project and Carolyn Manning, click here to visit CNN's Website. This link takes you to an entire web page with videos dedicated to this topic.

Congratulations to Carolyn Manning and her team of volunteers. They do the same work as many other people assisting refugees throughout the U.S., so as a 2009 CNN Hero, Ms. Manning carries the torch for all of you who volunteer your time and open your hearts to refugee newcomers every day--even if it's by donating beads and craft supplies to A Little Something. To the volunteers in refugee resettlment programs around the world, congratulations to you, too, for your fine work! You are all my heroes every day.

One step forward, two steps...sideways

There is a statistic about blogging that claims more than half of all blogs haven't been updated in two months or more. I don't want us to be a statistic, so it's time for an update.

The Bead Women are in an interesting phase. We have always operated without any one of us "at the helm," really, so sometimes our project just rests a bit until someone initiates action. It's one truth that exists in a world of busy lives and hectic work weeks. The refugee women have their share of busy days, too. Also, they get sick, we get sick, they have family crises, we have family crises...We're not so different in terms of what distracts us from building an enterprise.

Our meeting with our new attorneys at Holland and Hart (we have attorneys! From Holland and Hart!!), gave us a lot to ponder about how our project is moving forward. Becoming a formal organization that exists on paper will bring tremendous change and a lot of responsibility. Do we have the time and resources to do that? Can we learn all of the tax-related rules we'll need to know? Can any of us file a business tax return? Do we need to be more diligent about our accounting? Do we even know how to do that or how to manage important papers?

Starting a business--not to mention a nonprofit--involves a lot of things. We need to assemble a Board of Directors. Since it will need to be a "working Board," we need to find people who can help us through our growth period. We need to think about the tax implications that incorporating will have for the refugee women. Also, we continue to have the potential for rapid growth. Although it's tempting to do everything we can while we can, we also need to consider if bigger is better. For our group, maybe not. We don't get paid to work on this project, and we still need to tend to our real jobs. There aren't enough hours in the day.

The women in our group are doing well, for the most part. Haiffaa has graduated from our project and is now selling her handmade jewelry on her own. Khadiga got a job at a discount store, and her depression seems to be lifting (she had a rough year). It looks like Sharifo has been teaching other Bantu women how to make jewelry, and she and several of the women who live in her complex are getting together for jewelry-making sessions. One of the girls we took to the bead show last spring, Arbay, has blossomed into a creative, skilled jewelry maker with a keen eye for design and beauty.

Our Bhutanese knitters made some, uh, original hats this year. OK--they might be a bit bizarre. Nevertheless, their creations showed us that these knitters are skilled craftswomen with a desire to work hard on their projects. None of the Bhutanese jewelry makers have started yet--we just haven't had the time to make up starter kits and get them distributed.

On the more productive side, I spent most of my Christmas break reorganizing the basement of my home to make it more of a A Little Something warehouse and less of a repository for things we don't use. Now, if I could just get the other women to come over and sort and organize beads with me!

We are fortunate that we continue to have friends around the U.S. and beyond who remember us and send us beads and beading supplies. Someone else just donated 300 yards of purple cotton fabric (thanks, Alyce). We'll probably teach some of the women how to sew tote bags, and we'll make fabric panels for our booth along with a lot of other purple things. Omhagain is our resident fine artist with a degree in textile design from a university in Darfur. She hopes to teach some of the women the process of block printing on fabric. We will create a world swathed in purpley fabulousness!

So many ideas, so few hours in the day.

A few weeks ago, we had a business meeting to look at what we've accomplished, what we need to change, and what we should do to ensure a healthy future for A Little Something. this could be big. It could be a substantial organization that helps much larger numbers of women than we can do now. We aren't nearly as interested in being big as we are in being the right support for the women involved.

We have some changes on the horizon, including within our group. Your chief blogger has been "unwell" with an increasingly agitated central nervous system. I've learned more about the human nervous system(s) in the past year than I ever wanted to know. If I am to discourage my body from short-circuiting and acquiring permanent nerve damage and immunity problems, then I must take a breather and not do so much. Stress is taking a very high toll on my health. Frankly, I thrive on "doing," and I do not consider my work with refugees to be stressful, but apparently, my nervous system disagrees. This change in my participation is a direct, strict doctors' order, otherwise I wouldn't change a thing. I can't bear the thought of leaving the project completely, so although my official exit date is March 31, I definitely plan to stay involved in some way--I'll still be here in some capacity, although what that will be remains to be seen. There's a lot to be done yet.

Our friend and colleague, Katrina Wert, will be working with us for awhile to help coordinate our incorporation. She'll also help me transition out of the project (or at least downsize my repsonsibilities) while making sure that the things I do are well documented and reassigned within our group. If only we could just connect a computer to my brain and do a simple data download. It would be easier, but Katrina is very capable and competent, so I'm sure all of the stuff in my head will be sufficiently extracted. In any case, you'll be hearing less of my voice here and more from Jaime, Anna, Susan, and Katrina (I hope).

Looking ahead, our post-holiday hiatus is behind us and now it's time for Team A Little Something to jump into our next round of group gatherings and lessons, English/parenting/life skills classes at Anna's school for the moms in our group, sales, presentations, connecting and partnering with other nonprofits in the community, and incorporating our project into a legitimate business.

Anna has been having health troubles of her own, but as soon as she's back on her feet, we'll have updates from the field once again--with pictures!

Stay tuned!

Anyone can make a difference

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. --Margaret Mead

Recently I had a conversation with someone who showered praise upon the group of us who founded A Little Something. She said we must be incredibly special people to take the initiative and make a difference for so many women and their families. She went on to say that the world needs more people like us.

Here's the thing. We are all pretty darn normal and average in most ways. I think if you met us in line at the supermarket, or if you sat with us at one of the many meetings we sit through for our jobs, you'd find us to be smart, funny, and personable, but not extraordinary. And that's the point.

As a new year is ready to unfurl its days, people around the world will make resolutions to do more, to do better, to try harder, to make a difference. Many won't follow through because they think the task is too daunting. The task may, in fact, be huge, but you start off thinking not about what you can't do, but what you know you can do for sure.

It is the ordinary people who make a difference in our world every day. We are everywhere. I stayed up very late a few nights ago and found out (much to my delight) that each day, Oprah! is shown for a second time after The Late, Late Show. On this particular program, a group of teens discussed their service project wherein they raised money to build a school in rural Kenya. At first I thought, "Well, that's nice. They probably pooled their money, had some car washes and bake sales..." and while I was having that thought, the story unfolded to reveal that these kids--regular high school kids--also traveled to Kenya to live in the village for three weeks while they built the school themselves.

Now they had my attention. The story was compelling on its own, but watching those kids become aware of the complexity of need--the domino effect of aid or neglect--gave me goosebumps. The kids were flummoxed by the work--none had ever done any construction work at all before this, and after receiving oral instructions and only a very rough idea of how to construct a building from the ground up, they set about building something that would make a better future available to an entire community. They didn't know what they were doing, but they had faith that they would figure it out.

During the trip, the students figured out a lot about the world and about themselves and about the capacity to effect change within and outside of oneself. A group of smart, sharp, high achievers got on a plane and went to Kenya. A group of considerate, aware, compassionate, critical thinkers came home less than a month later. It was obvious that by being physically present in the midst of need, by seeing that there are answers--although not easy ones--these kids were profoundly changed. I would bet that their experience in Africa will continue to affect them for a lifetime. As a result, these kids will find a way to make everyday actions have meaningful impact. Isn't this the true essence of education? Do any of us know what we're capable of until we're knee-deep in new challenges and commitments?

When you sit down to make that list of New Year's resolutions or just a wish list for personal change, don't set out to change the world. Instead, think of how you can incorporate mindfulness, meaningful gestures, compassion, and the talents you already have into any given day of your life. If you keep at it, you'll be in the midst of significant change before you even realize what's happening before you.

Several months into the creation of A Little Something, I was reminded of the story of the starfish on the beach. Perhaps you know it. I believe it is the perfect metaphor for how we found ourselves up to our eyeballs in entrepreneurial benevolence. We weren't setting out to start anything; we were really just trying to help some women we already knew.

The Starfish (an exceptionally abridged version)
An old man walked along the beach early on a summer morning. During the night, the tide had washed in thousands of starfish that were now hopelessly stranded on the sand. The tide was going out and as the sun climbed higher in the sky, the chances of the starfishes' survival was waning.

As the man made his way along the beach, he walked bent over, picking up starfish after starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. A young man walking the opposite way approached him. "Old man," he said, "are you crazy? There are thousands of these things out here. You can't possibly save them all. What difference does it make if you throw a few back into the water?"

The old man didn't break his rhythm. He picked up a starfish, looked at the young man, and tossed the starfish into the waves as he said, "Made a difference to that one."

My advice to you: Start where you are. The opportunity to make a difference is there. Let it find you.

For an inspiring story of a young person making a difference for the women of Darfur, click here. It's two minutes of very worthwhile reading.

Always thankful

Before I get into the subject of this post, I want to issue a small apology that this post wasn't here on Thanksgiving Day. As Chief Blogger, I try to be timely in posting, but this holiday finds me mostly in a horizontal position, tissues strategically placed nearby along with two vaporizers, at least one cat, and frequent cups of hot tea. I'm feeling somewhat better today--relatively speaking--so I didn't want to delay in saying what is ever-present on the minds of the members and organizers of A Little Something.

This Thanksgiving, we take time to appreciate the many people who support us in so many ways. We are thankful every single day, but in our busy lives, we don't always take the time to articulate this deep appreciation we hold in our hearts. We have known from the beginning that we had a worthwhile idea, but we also knew we were going to need a lot of help to make the dream a reality. We've come so far in a little over a year, it feels like we've been traveling at warp speed.

Many people have taken the time to tell us how we have impressed them with our work. Let there be no doubt--we work very hard on this project, in addition to doing our "real" jobs and tending to our families. Still, our load has been lightened countless times by the kindness of friends and strangers alike. We have worked, but you have been beside us--guiding us, encouraging us, supplying us, and sometimes holding us up at those times when we felt too tired to remember why we were doing this at all. You reminded us. For this, we are deeply grateful.

I can never make a complete list of everyone who has contributed to our project in the past 14 months. What surprised us, though, was that so many people who had no idea who we were had faith in us and most important above all else--had faith in the refugee women who were taking this leap of faith and trusting us to see them through to something better for themselves. We believe that when someone believes in you, new possibilities are easier to believe in yourself. Call this the chain of believing.

Oh, how I wish we could remember everyone we want to thank this Thanksgiving. Please don't be offended if we don't mention your name--we are thankful for your support, be it through cheerleading, encouragement, advice, idea sharing, jewelry lessons, financial assistance, or for sending us some of the bajillion beads that have kept the project going.

First, thanks to James Horan, Slavica Park, Denise Lines, and Sheryl Johnson whose support within the Colorado Refugee Network gave us credibility from the beginning. Thanks to Tammy Powley of About.com for lighting an Internet flame that we hope will never go out! Tammy has also found quieter ways to help us out--because she is kind and special! One of our other first friends (thanks to Tammy) was Margot Potter, crafter, author, and QVC pitch woman extraordinaire. Margot has connected us to some invaluable resources, and she has always been available for much-needed emotional support on those really tough days. Her books are well used in our program, and she has never missed an opportunity to share information about A Little Something and about refugee concerns, as well. She also added a little sparkle to our supply stash--something we never could have done on our own. Rock on with ya bad self, Margot.

Speaking of Potters, Drew Potter of Beadalon generously facilitated a major donation of supplies. I know there's always a tax receipt with a dollar amount on it, but in the end, some gestures are priceless. Likewise, Sara from Softflex hooked us up with some desperately needed stringing wire--one of our costliest expenses. What a relief to have our pennies to spend on other desperately needed items!

The folks at Beyond Beadery (Betcey Ventrella) have certainly done their part to very generously help our bead show budget go a bit further. A lot further. More than once. Even after we already cleaned out the dollar bin.

Arwa Jumkawala's dad sent us the heaviest box we ever received. We never knew you could actually fit that many beads in a flat-rate Priority Mail box, and we were amazed by this feat of Tetris-like skill. The beads were fabulous, too, and they have become a staple in every new-start kit we send out. Darlene Milam is our most-delayed thank-you note recipient, but she doesn't hold it against us. Capitola Girl actually had a friend hand deliver her bead donation--because lugging beads to Denver is so much easier than shipping! For The Love of Beads sent us some beautiful beads even though they were just getting started themselves, just as Cara Holland made her own generous donation while her new business was so new it hadn't even opened yet.

The members of About.com's jewelry making forum support the women of ALS in too many ways to list. Thank you Anne Weinheimer and Rena Baum for putting together the best-labeled bead donations ever and for being so concerned for our collective health and sanity. The online community has supported the women of ALS very generously and bloggers, posters, emailers and others kept the word moving all over the Internet. We received assistance from people we didn't even know in the virtual sense. Here are some of those folks, plus a few who help us "in person:"
Barb
Carol
Caroline
Christie
Christy
Cynthia
Dawn
DD Hess (the women love your beads!)
Dona
Gail
Jan/Janet
Janet in Connecticut
Jannifer L.
Jeanine P.
Jennifer (St. C.)
Joanna
Joanne
Juanita
Juliana
Karen
Kathryn
Keller in Kent (first name unknown)
Kelley (squared)
Kitty
Laura
Laura L.
Lauren
Lesley in Canada
Leyla
Linda
Lois
Lori
Lynn (Plum Cow)
Margaret
Mary V. in Dublin
Marybeth
Michelle Mach
Nancy
Pat
Randi
Rita
Roberta
Rory
Sandi
Sharon
Solamente/Melanie Schow(your beads took our breath away!)
Steph
Sue
Val K.
Valerie

Closer to home, Katrina, Lisa, Christy, Susan, Slavica, Julie, employees of Whiteman elementary and Emily Griffith Opportunity School (who will buy even the most "Charlie Brown" pieces in our collection), the treasurer's office at EGOS, and the many volunteers have lent a hand to benefit the refugee women working in this program. Also, African Community Center for inviting us to be part of their 2008 African Extravaganza, our first really big event. Izzy Sandoval, your generosity in lending us your van has broadened the possibilities of what we can do and where we can go with the women--Your kindness widens our world!

Jean Clark and Ginny Czarnecki get a special thank you today. Jean and Ginny joined us very recently, and they are fearless. They are willing to try anything and learn anything. They've taken on the often grueling task of taking our show on the road to craft sales. Although it is the season for church bazaars and alternative gift markets, it is sometimes difficult for Susan, Anna, Jaime, and I to be available to go to the sales since we all have erratic work schedules. Thank you Jean and Ginny for helping our co-op members get their creations to market! Thank you for driving SUVs. Thank you for having good upper body strength and a good eye for arranging the table and for having a good head for problem solving and for remaining unfazed by early-morning wake up times. Thank you!

I probably forgot a lot of people. I apologize for that. My head is stuffy and my body is tired, so I'm not thinking as well as I should be. If anything occurs to me while I'm sleeping, I'll edit the post later.

We are blessed to have so many friends. The list here is incomplete (by a lot), yet it is still long. There is so much to be thankful for: Friends and supporters, patient husbands, women who are finding confidence and skills, all of the healthy babies that were born to our members this year, newly arrived refugee women who seem to find us almost immediately after arrival, our own energy, and a successful (if tiring) first year.

We could never have done it without you. Thank you.

Namaste

Sharon, Anna, Susan, and Jaime

Stretching the possibilities

Thank you Beadalon!

Recently, A Little Something was very fortunate, indeed. With the help of Drew Potter at Beadalon, we were able to receive a large quantity of stretch cord. Stretch cord is a favorite stringing material among the Beadwomen, especially for our beginner-beaders who don't yet feel comfortable using tools and crimps.

All stringing media tend to be our costliest expenditure. We are grateful and relieved, and yes, very excited about this wonderfully generous windfall. Thanks, Beadalon, and thanks, Drew!!

What we take for granted

Today, November 10, is a day when bloggers around the world are sharing their thoughts about refugee concerns. How could we not participate?

In an average week, I spend about 70 hours doing something refugee related. There's teaching, running the Denver area's in-home tutoring program, catching up with students and volunteers, and of course, working on the many details of A Little Something. People talk to me. They tell me their stories, even when I never ask a question. I absorb all of these bits of information and try to make sense of them in a larger context. Often, there is no larger context.

On Saturday, I spent a good part of the day rearranging the things in my basement. I did this to make room for the many things A Little Something seems to acquire as it goes along. While rummaging through a box of files, I sat down on the tile floor and visited with my past.

Before I worked with refugees, I had a thriving career in the cable television industry. I did many jobs and worked on some fascinating projects, but at the time, I was one of a handful of pay-per-view specialists shaping the future of what was to become on-demand programming. The work was fast-paced, challenging, and fun. I met a lot of people, including more than a few who were well known in the entertainment world.

While sorting a box, I came across a picture of me with Don King. It made me laugh, but later I remembered why I gave up a more glamorous life for the one I have now. Shortly after I was transferred to Denver, I became a volunteer in the program I now manage. Until then, I didn't know anything about refugees. Once I learned, my life was irrevocably changed.

In the 13 years I've worked with refugees, I have never ceased to be amazed at the resiliency of the human spirit. I don't know that I would have the strength to make the refugee's journey, and so I admire the people I know even more.

The women of A Little Something have stories as varied as their backgrounds. They have all experienced loss, though, and many still live with uncertainty. These women are survivors. They have endured things that most of us would find unimaginable. Although the women have survived, many have lost loved ones. Some have been lost through fatal incidents, while others are truly...lost.

In every conflict, people get lost. Often, families scatter during an attack, but they are never able to completely reunite. In the U.S., we tend to buffer potential uncertainty by believing in the systems we have in place that identify us, even when we, ourselves, cannot. Elsewhere, the task of keeping track is not so simple. It can take years of walking and asking, walking and asking, before a missing person's whereabouts is determined.

One woman recently told me her story of trying to leave her country while she was nine months pregnant. She had to stop to give birth along the way. She said there was no razor to cut the baby's umbilical cord, so a woman traveling with her found a sharp rock to do the job. She said she had terrible abdominal pain, but it wasn't safe to stop, so she held her newborn close to her chest and forced herself to keep going, despite the pain, the fatigue, and the bleeding. The thing that troubled her most, though, was that she had nothing with her to wrap up the baby. She feared he would die from exposure or be snatched away by a lion. Fearing the latter, dreading the loss of yet another loved one, she stopped sleeping until she reached Kenya.

This story made me think of the clean, bright, and modern maternity wards in our hospitals, birthing centers, midwives, doctors, and Apgar scores. Most people just have no idea what millions of births are like in the harshest areas of our world.

I looked at the picture of Don King and me. I remembered. It was the people. I left the cable industry and its flash because I wanted my days to count for something--for someone. I hear the refugees' testimony every day. Each new story reminds me I have skills and talents that can help other people find their new place in a chaotic world. I cannot fix their problems or patch together their shattered lives. Still, with some compassion and professionalism, I can help someone take one more step toward gaining instead of losing.

If our situations were reversed, I could only pray that someone would be there to offer the same to me.

To learn more about Refugees United, an organization that helps refugees reunite with loved ones, click here. Spread the word. Dialogue fosters awareness.

Teaching teachers

Sometime back in the spring, we submitted a conference proposal to the organizers of COTESOL, the professional organization for English as a Second Language professionals. The title of our presentation was: Stringing Together Benevolent Enterprise and Basic Skills, or, How to accidentally start a nonprofit.

We believe we have a program worth explaining. Beyond the origins of the program itself, A Little Something has helped the participants acquire language, literacy, and math skills, as well as improved critical thinking and life skills.

Before coming to the U.S., most of the women we work with were not accustomed to having so many decisions to make. They definitely weren't ready for the barrage of options and expectations they now encounter on a daily basis in this country. We believe that the women who are participating in A Little Something have benefited from it so much that we wanted to share the idea with others who might find the idea useful in their programs.

We didn't have a lot of hope that many people would attend the presentation. It was scheduled in the last time slot of the last day of the conference. We kept our fingers crossed that people would come and there would be more people in the audience than there were presenting (six). Jaime, Anna, Susan, Sharon, Haiffaa, and Khadiga were prepared to tell our story to anyone who came to listen.

Our worries were unfounded. About 15 people came to learn about an interesting way to combine benevolent enterprise with basic skills. They learned about the project and the people involved. Two adventurous participants volunteered to be part of a hands-on jewelry lesson--given entirely in Arabic. Thanks to Barb Vaille and our volunteer (whose name we didn't get) for their willingness to try something new!

We'll be doing a similar--but much longer and more in-depth--version of this presentation at the international TESOL conference in March. There are 8,000 people expected at that conference, so with a little luck, A Little Something might just rock the multicultural education world!

The other season

You probably learned that there are four seasons in the year in North America, but there is actually one more season. For those who make and sell crafts, the prime selling season starts in Sepetember and wraps up just as holiday gifts are starting to be unwrapped.

Imagine creating a boutique that, in order to be successful, has to be attractive, well organized, stocked, properly merchandised, and adequately staffed. This boutique also has to fit into a 10'x10' space, be completely portable, and put together in about an hour by as few as two people. Maybe one. And then it's all done in reverse at the end of the day.

Let me digress for a moment to appreciate my husband, Leo Livecchi. He is that invisible ALS member who loads my car on sales days, then unloads and unpacks the canopy, the boxes, the furniture, and our endearing mannequin. He helps me re-sort the merchandise into the right containers and then puts all of in storage until the next round. After that, he cooks dinner for me because he knows that if he doesn't, I'll just eat peanut butter out of the jar and call it a night. He's not just a great husband, he's an outstanding volunteer. Without his care and participation, our project would probably falter quite a bit. Yeah, Leo! All he really wants in return is for the crafts group to find a way to rent an office so that our home will no longer be crammed full of the beads, boxes, books, and piles of craft supplies that belong to A Little Something.

So far, we (A Little Something) have five sales scheduled for this season. If you're in the neighborhood, please stop by, say hello, buy something lovely, and, maybe staff the table for a few minutes--we might need a restroom break--or hang out and help us pack up at the end of the day.

To find out where we'll be this fall, check back soon--there will be a list of sale dates over on the right side of this page.

See you soon!

A message to our Muslim friends and ALS sisters

Swept from the Himalayas

A Little Something is growing into a big something. Word is spreading throughout the refugee community here about our endeavor. Although we worked primarily with African women a year ago, we have diversified rather quickly as new groups have been included in the U.S. refugee resettlement program.

We barely got started with the Burmese Karen weavers when the Bhutanese started to arrive. A word about the Bhutanese. This group is almost exclusively ethnic Nepali. When the Bhutanese government enacted a policy to maintain an ethnic balance favorable to the ethnic majority, the ethnic Nepalis, or Lhotsampas, were forced to leave Bhutan. Most fled to Nepal where they have been living for the last 16 years. Through the United Nations’ refugee resettlement program, more than half of this population will be permanently resettled in the United States. Click here for a brief overview of the Lhotsampas’ culture and refugee situation, and click here for the addendum that gives addition cultural information (it’s quite fascinating).

The Bhutanese have been arriving here in Denver for a few months now. We found out that the women are skilled in several crafts, including jewelry making, weaving, knitting, and crochet. Several of the women wanted more information about A Little Something, so we scheduled a meeting. With the other groups, organizing meetings has been a bit of a struggle, as the women have shown little interest in organizing themselves this way. We were in for a surprise.

When meeting time came around, we were ready to go…almost. We were expecting eight women, but 24 showed up. It was disconcerting but exciting at the same time.

The group was lively, to say the least. My head was swimming with details as I tried to remember the do’s and don’ts of working with this culture…Caste system…age…more. The women all wanted to speak at once. They had dozens of questions, and, unlike our other groups, wanted to let us know that they were quite interested in learning to be businesswomen.

As the meeting concluded, seven of the knitters set out with Jaime and me to immediately embark on a field trip. Seven wasn’t a random number—it was the number of people we could fit into our two cars. Who knew we needed a bus? We grappled with seatbelts and automatic locks, and when everyone was properly secured, we headed off to buy yarn at The Lamb Shoppe (say it out loud and you’ll get the joke).

I’m pretty sure the employees at the shop weren’t expecting so much activity on an otherwise-uneventful Thursday afternoon. The women swept into the shop in a wave of brightly colored saris, a human bouquet that was chattering excitedly.

The next hour was spent touching yarn, comparing colors and discussing texture, looking at crochet hooks, choosing knitting needles, and carefully selecting just the right supplies for each person’s first project. There were a lot of questions…”Can I get this?” “I don’t know which needles to get. I can get both? Really?” “What size needles do I need for this yarn?” “Can I really make anything I want?”

In the midst of this, Jaime and I picked out yarn for our other knitters and for A Little Something’s supply stock. We reveled in the fun of it, the rich colors and sumptuous feel of alpaca, cotton, and fine wool. A few skeins quickly became armloads of yarn.

After the shopping was finished, Jaime and I took the women to the nearest major bus stop. As I approached the intersection, the bus was pulling up to the curb. I swung into the gas station so the women could get out of my car safely. They didn’t want to miss the bus, so they tried their best to wiggle out of the SUV in a hurry—no easy feat in a sari. From the rearview mirror, I watched them scurry toward the bus in a flurry of colorful dresses, arms filled with pink plastic bags full of yarn and knitting needles.

A bell was dinging in my car telling me that a door was open. I assessed the situation and saw that all of the doors had been left open by my passengers. I needed to move because another car was trying to ease around my Jeep to get into the station. Then I looked again. The driver, a woman with long blonde hair, was laughing good-naturedly at the scene before her. It probably was a little different than what one normally expects to see on a trip to the Conoco.

The women were so excited to start working on their projects, I would bet that several are probably well along in their creations. Jaime and I—and the women at the Lamb Shoppe—are all eager to see what our knitters have made with their first supplies.

Here is a slide show of the meeting and the yarn-buying excursion. Enjoy.

Many hands make light(er) work

Labor Day has passed, school is back in session, and the smell of craft-fair season is in the air. There is a lot to do, a lot to organize.

Back in July, several friends of A Little Something stepped in to take over booth duty at a big event on a very, very hot day. They were a bit taken aback by how much work goes into hauling all of the booth supplies, setting up, breaking down, and loading out. It gave Katrina an idea.

Since our project started a year ago, many people have asked to join us at our group sessions with the refugee women. We've had to explain that we were forced to abandon the "sewing circle" concept very early on. The logistics of scheduling, transportation, and childcare made us rethink how and where we could work with all of the participants. Some people wanted only this group/gathering type of involvement, but there were still other people who continued to say, "Well, when you find something that you need help with, just ask."

And so we asked. Anna and I invited would-be helpers to spend an afternoon helping us fix jewelry, tag, price, sort beads, sort more beads, organize supplies, and more. We made it a potluck and got to work.






There were nine of us all together--ten if you count my husband--plus two dogs. It was a glorious Sunday to be outside with good people. Anna, Haiffaa, Lisa, Katie, Katrina, Christy, Slavica, Susan, Leo, and me. And Ginger and Phoenix (who, I might mention, didn't work very hard, especially considering they are both working breeds).

If anyone had thought they acquired insight into our process at the craft fair, today they realized that the sales are just a fraction of what it takes to keep us humming along. Our helpers worked more like machines than elves as they considered what happens after the donated materials come in and before jewelry is sold. More than this, Slavica summed up what everyone was thinking just after entering the front door: "Oh my gosh. This has totally taken over your house!" Yes, I am keenly aware of that.

In an attempt to bring some order to the chaos, we all worked like busy bees for hours. Haiffaa was unusually quiet, but she was surrounded by food and drink, and must have been feeling her Ramadan fast very strongly while sitting among us.

Looking around at all of the activity buzzing around us, I was struck by how lucky we, as a group, are to have such good friends. We have friends who spread the word about our project via blogs, Websites, emails, and newsletters. We have friends who tell us about grants, supplies, shopping, and upcoming sales. We have friends who send us beads and wire and findings and fiber and storage boxes and magazines and books. We have friends who bless us with cash. Without our friends, A Little Something wouldn't be anything at all.

Everyone agreed that it was a fun afternoon. Even Ginger and Phoenix enjoyed the day(although we're still not sure who licked a little icing off of the brownies). Katrina suggested that we make this a monthly event, but that if monthly is too much to coordinate, meeting every three months would certainly be a possibility. As I was thinking, "Oh, nobody is going to want to do this with us every month," everyone else was happily agreeing with Katrina.

So, here's to our friends, our support and supporters. I can't imagine how we would get along without you.
--SM