fully belly and a place to lay your head

Every day a new face- a new knowledge- a new understanding of life outside myself-my world- a new understanding of life inside myself-all there is to learn and know- and grow-
My supervisor told me today that her co-worker encouraged her to hire me after I graduate. She continued to say that she thinks "they" need you in the States and that she's training me to join a specialized team at a teaching hospital in the US. My response of course....but I don't want to leave! My list of reasons......long and long. I have been extremely busy as of late; I'm organizing a support group for teen girls born with CAH (congenital adrenal hyperplasia) and I've been attending Gender Identity clinic assessments with a team of psychologists at one of the local hospitals. But most of my time has been spent with a refugee family from Syria, a 5 year old boy and his father. They came here 4 months ago after the father was unlawfully detained by the Syrian government for one month- unable to communicate with his family and speak to them about his whereabouts- or the fact that he was still alive. He has eyes of sorrow and trauma and my heart is even more saddened by the fact that many people I work with across organizations and disciplines do not believe his story.And weren't finding an interpretor, weren't attempting to understand! His fight for his son, after 2 horrific surgeries before the boy was 4 (he was born with epispadias) that indeed made his situation worse and when the father spoke up for him a connection between surgeon and government official= prison time without justification. And so they fled for their lives from Damascus, their home... to Canada.... for a better life.... as my anscestors generations and generations ago did to place me where I am today- with English as my first language, the privilages and advantages equivelant to the most fortunate of lives. I explained to him my last name- El Haddad---he points to the metal frame around the window and a huge smile crosses his face- we are all connected. It's the little things that I have learned that bear the largest weight on my heart. Their last name and first names written differently on all documents as English speakers botch it and write it without care- and I tried to explain to the father- this will be your name here.... to pass on and on.... how do you want your Canadian-Syrian name to spell? I think after days and days of traveling and searching... having a third member of the group who spoke English and had a "Social Worker" title, I saw the father and his son feel ease. It was hard to leave the young boy; away from his mother, with his large sweet eyes we have a special relationship at this time- with but few words to speak between us "Hello, how are you?" he laughs and smiles- we understand- and walk together and sit together and when I said goodbye to them yesterday.... they laughed and giggled towards the park where they could finally rest. full belly and a bed to lay when the sun goes down. And I can say now- I know suffering from these people who teach me about life- and I know joy.
On a completely different note:
Today was the first day of a city worker strike that includes garbage collectors, daycare workers, summer day camp counselors, ferry lines attendents, public gardens maintenance workers, etc.About 30,000 municiple workers are picketing for a slew of issues but most attention has been placed on the local goverments reduction of benefits that a retiree would recieve in regards to payment for sickdays that haven't been used. Apparently a stike in 2002 left the city at a stand still for about 16 days.... as the police force and firefighters do not have the right to strike they've taken to the streets with a different approach.....I saw 5 or 6 bicyclers pulled over today for petty traffic violations.....in a measly 25 minute bikeride.

Black Squirrels and Purple Pigeons

The week has completely flown by and I find myself constantly counting the weeks I have left as if I'm holding them, granulated sand, sinking beyond my fingers and lost until it all accumulates at my feet. Then gives me firm ground later. This time in Toronto is pulling all things together, a large rubberband ball, ready to bounce up and UP. Every day so full, no time to reflect, process, as we are taught in Social Work, over and over. Well, there's snippets of that time. I have been blessed by having my first few weeks at SickKids overlap with several other Social Work students. Unfortunately, their semester comes to an end tomorrow and an empty office will be left. But I am beginning to get to know different members of the team and become more involved in more cases and patients. I see a 15 year old girl still every week and learn a lot from her. I think we've established good rapport so far. And tomorrow is another clinic for patients born with ambiguity regarding their sex anatomy. I will be working with one of the writers of the Diagnoistic Statistical Manual (DSM); portion on Gender Identity Disorder and Gender Dysphoria. I suspect it will be very interesting.
On a completely different stream of thought... I met Mary Jo Haddad a few days ago at a free staff breakfast. I was introduced and she said "What? Oh my God, hey everyone look, this is Emily Haddad. We are the only two Haddads in the hospital!" it was pretty hysterical and when I told her my grandmother was Mary Jo Haddad and mother Margaret Mary Haddad she thought it was pretty funny.
All in all, life in Toronto has been fabulous. International Drumming Festivals, Music/Spoken Word Festivals, Pride Parade next week. Every day, I walk past a clown with a struggling,smiling child and look up to the glass ceiling of yellow elevator rooms going Up and UP seemingly to crash through and fly away and think, "this place exists. I'm glad I know about it"
For some visuals. Check out www.citytv.ca and search for the "Herbie Fund" there are videos of the children brought to Toronto this year for life-altering free surgeries.