TSA Security measures invite misconduct

The current outrage in the US over the new screening and pat down procedures at airports was bound to throw up bumper stickers. The irony of such a mess can’t keep critics or comics at bay. The new TSA measures are somewhat ridiculous. Somehow patting down every flier and running them through a full body scanner will keep terrorists at bay. To me it seemed more like a federal approval for sexual harassment. As one bumper sticker suggests: “we are now free to move around your underpants.” Yet those in defense of these measures declare that these are necessary security precautions for the safety of all Americans. It’s merely giving up a small dose of privacy, to guarantee the safety and security of all. Just think of it this way, they say, “it’s not a grope, it’s a freedom pat.” The price of freedom has definitely gone up.

I first came across these full body scanners as I was leaving an airport in Michigan. The line was moving slower than usual and people were walking through a strange portal, standing with their arms in the air and their feet shoulder width apart. Individuals stood in the scanner for 20 seconds, nervously awaiting a decision that either allowed them to move on, or succumb to further examination. I saw security officers on the other end of a computer screen, staring seriously at their monitors. At this rate, they were handling more packages than the UPS.

It was almost my turn. I had two choices, but neither seemed like a grope discount. I did not want to walk through those x-ray vision tease machines. Nor did I want to receive a pat down from a burly female security inspector. Bumper sticker slogan played aloud in my head: “We rub you the wrong way, so you can be on your way.” I decided I’d take my chances with a freedom pat rather than walking through a scanner whose implications I was highly skeptical of. I thought I had chosen the lesser of two evils.

A lady officer came over and gave me a very thorough pat down. She found no evidence of any weapons of mass destruction on me after conducting a search even the CIA could not have trumped; she smiled, wishing me a good evening and a safe flight. I couldn’t help thinking if she had done her job any better, she may have had to buy me dinner first.

I put on my shoes and coat, grabbed my hand carry and quickly scurried away, feeling more than a little violated and not at all safer.

Death of a Walkman

On July 1, 1979 the first Walkman was created in Japan by Sony’s co-founder Akio Morita and last week the last set of Walkman’s were sold to Japanese markets. Once this batch is sold off the shelves, no more Walkman’s will be made for this market. Though the Walkman will continue to be sold in China and other international markets, it is in Japan where the Walkman first had its genesis over 3 decades ago.

This is the beginning of the end for the first, personal, portable music device that reshaped how music was heard. Shutting down production in one region is just a precursor to its eventual decline elsewhere.

This is not just the end of one technology, but also the demise of a product that brought acute cultural change to the way we viewed and accessed music. The Walkman journeyed through its American Dream, fulfilling its life’s purpose until it gave rise to the young, fresh technologies of the future.

It was the Walkman that brought music from the communal sphere into the private world of the individual.

The Walkman reshaped the discussion of privacy and the evolution of personal space. People could not be in very public places and still have a very private experience. Attention and focus could turn completely inward even amidst parks, on subways, or walking through downtown. And of course, the Walkman was the precursor to the Discman, iPod, the Nano, and later the iPhone and iPad, as well as whatever other forms of personal music players have yet to evolve.

The Walkman also brought freedom to music. People could listen to whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted. We could copy our favorites onto a tape rather than having to listen to what was playing on the radio. Music fans could compile their own mixes and young lovers could make mix tapes for their significant others to listen to in private.

The Walkman first made portable the ability to listen to music, creating a new culture of running with music that made its mark even into the exercise industry.

Clearly over the years, the Walkman has made its mark, selling over 220 million units in a little over 3 decades, and it may continue to sell more, at least in the U.S.

There are no immediate plans to cut the Walkman production and distribution here in the states where, a Sony spokesperson told LA Times, there is still a “consistent but small demand.”

As the Walkman’s steady life comes to an end in the city that birthed it, it may only be a matter of time before the Walkman meets is quiet demise. The once innovative, cutting-edge technology of the Walkman has reached the end of its days, “isn’t that remarkable?”

Election Night

Republicans needed 39 seats to win over the House, and they got it. Dominating in the east coast from the onset, where more seats were up for grabs, the House turned right early in the night. CNN Election Center projected the Republicans at 113 seats and the Democrats at 67, with the majority of the country still up for grabs.

The Senate was more of an uphill climb for the Republicans, where a critical loss in West Virginia could cost them the majority, but by no means will they be an overwhelming minority in the upper house of Congress. Currently the Republican Party maintains 44 of the 100 seats; even at a 50-50 stalemate, the Republicans will have gained 9 seats in Senate.

Clearly, the days of Democratic control of both houses are coming to an end tonight. Even if Republicans do not win the majority in the House or the Senate, they have already gained enough seats to swing the left-resting pendulum closer to the center. With a more bipartisan congress, will the next two years mean a stalemate in Congress?

Most of the legislation passed by Congress had been passed despite GOP resistance. The Democratic majority Congress had passed a stimulus bill with only three Republican votes. Republicans vehemently opposed the $940 billion health care reform law, and still seek to repeal it. The addition of 30,000 troops for the war in Afghanistan and the withdrawal of all forces from Iraq have gained great GOP opposition. And the constant threats of terror attacks, though unsuccessful, have many Republicans voicing their opinion to increase focus on national security. Disagreeing on almost all major issues facing the country, Congress could be headed to a 2-year hiatus where tabled legislation becomes the norm.

Historically, midterm elections have gravely shaped Presidential legacy. With a majority in both houses for the first two years, the Democrats were able to, and did frequently, sidestep Republican members to singlehandedly pass legislation. This was ne major criticism of the President’s promised campaign goals: his failure to incorporate both parties’ wishes into his legislation. Now, with a more balanced congress, the possibility for constant deadlock seems more than likely.

The same happened with Reagan’s loss of majority in the midterm elections of ’82 as well as Clinton’s midterm loss in 1994; both presidents were kept at bay from completing their agendas after these congressional losses.

However, this midterm election is unique in one way: some of the Republican gains are Tea Party candidates, like Rand Paul in Kentucky, who do not necessarily align themselves with mainstream GOP agendas. In fact, Paul has already declared his plan to challenge GOP Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell. Paul told CNN’s “American Morning,” “We will challenge him from day to day, but there will be many areas in which we agree.”

This challenge maybe a positive for the Obama administration, as Tea Party Republicans tend to lean less to the right, remaining more centrist. Centrist though still doesn’t guarantee an acceptance of the Obama administration’s agenda for the next 2 years.

On the other hand, no president in the past century has lost his second term after losing the majority in the midterm elections. Whether we look at Harry Truman in 1948, Dwight Eisenhower in 1956 or Bill Clinton in 1996, all three of these Presidents lost control of at least one house of Congress in the midterms, yet continued to win re-election.

Maybe this is a blessing for President Obama in the long run, even if it comes disguised in red, elephant garb.

Moments...

In the moments when the sun begins its descent, and the moon its ascent, something magical happens. A merger seems to be written across the skies...the worlds at once collide.

In those moments when consciousness seems to enter the world of sleep, when you are awake enough but not so fully, a certain calming peace arises, a moment of perfection is reached.

In those moments when a soft, little hand clutches your finger unexpectedly and yearns to be held in a loving embrace, a unknown love refills the heart and the rest of the world is left in a haze.

In these moments of love, of peace, of union, we find the surreal in the real, the divine in the mundane, the life in the living.

Service

Service, whatever form it takes, is the flow of love from one human being to another. This desire to share is our basic nature. Sincere giving -- without any expectation of return -- breaks the boundaries of conditional love and expands our ability to love every human being unconditionally.

Service is the expression of love. Serve in whatever possible manner you can. Ask yourself, "How can I be useful to people around me, and to the whole world?" Then your heart starts blossoming and a completely new level begins. Otherwise we're always thinking, "What about me, what about me?" It's nothing! Ask, "How can I be useful, how can I give to the world?" The best seva is helping someone to understand this eternal nature of life.

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar.

Week Twelve: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Monday I walked in to work for my afternoon shift at 3p.m. and Susan, one of the head bookers, sent me an email asking, “Are you working the evening shift today?” I told her I was. She responded, “Great, I really need your help. I’ll come by and fill you in around 5.” A few hours later Susan came by my desk and asked me to follow her to the break room. We walked in, preparing our separate cups of coffee, and I felt less like an intern and very much like a colleague as she told me that today I would be in charge of welcoming, ‘mic’ing, and assigning the guests to their posts; basically, I was supposed to take over Susan’s job once she got the guests booked. This was a huge deal considering interns are very rarely trusted enough to do this! Since she had guests taping up to the show at various locations across the nation, she needed someone to take over her role here for the night.

Needless to say, I was excited, yet more than a little nervous. One mistake here could truly mess up the order of the show and the availability of the guests for future shows. Susan made sure I understood this and felt the weight that any little mistake could cost. I went back to my desk and made a list of facts I needed to know about both the guests. I also made sure I knew where I would need to meet at security, walked the path to make-up and mikes, introduced myself to the make-up room as well as the technical aids, and contacted front desk to give them my desk’s phone number; this way they could contact me directly when the guests where here and Susan would not have to be disturbed. I pulled it off, somehow, without any major mistakes. I got a little nervous speaking to the guests and almost forgot to offer them tea and coffee, but everything flowed pretty well. Susan was very pleased! She thanked me in front of the entire team the next morning at the staff meeting. I was very excited. Yet, amidst all these positives, a step backward was inevitable when it came.

While at work I was finishing my class presentation, reviewing some final details, and somehow lost the entire thing! I rebuilt five slides by 5:30 pm when I would usually leave for class. At the same time, my boss came to me and said I would get to time out the show for the day, as a reward for my work yesterday. I was ecstatic, nervous, and anxious all at the same time. I had not paid much attention to the run-down since 4pm when I had lost my presentation. This was also the day I was supposed to present. I sent an email, pretty last minute and got excused from the presentation for the day, of course with penalty. Then I spent the next hour quickly learning the entire run-down, but even then I felt as if I wasn’t fully comfortable with it. My boss said it wouldn’t be too bad; I would have a PA with me. So, I timed out the show, somehow not completely screwing up, though I almost added a minute extra twice had not the PA been there to correct me. It was a hectic day with a hectic ending and the upcoming week had yet more challenges.

Week Eleven: Revisiting an Ordinary Week

Not much happened this week, or so it seemed as compared to the newness of the weeks’ prior. I had gotten the routine of the days down and was comfortable in my environment. It seemed as though New York life had made a place for me. Especially at work, I was in my comfort zone. I walked in every morning or afternoon, depending on the day, logged into the server and sent out an email asking the team what, if anything, they needed my help on. Sometimes emails came back right away saying, “glad you’re here, can you help me with…” other times I sat there, for what seemed like hours, reading and catching up on any news I had missed, just in case I got asked to help with something. I didn’t want to be unaware of what was going on.

Monday slowly crept by. Others seemed to be busy but there was very little extra work to do. I ran a couple of errands, did a few web rolls, and answered a few phone calls. Nothing to exciting. Come Tuesday, I thought things have to speed up today based on the velocity of work I had done yesterday. Yet, nothing seemed to come my way until mid-day. We had heard last week, right before I headed out to Dallas, that Christiane was leaving CNN. She had taken on an offer with ABC to anchor the evening news there. It was a hard transition for many at CNN, considering Amanpour has been with the network for 27 years. Yet, the transition seemed necessary for her personal life to which she had devoted very little time over the last few decades.

The drastic changes at the Amanpour show, that come with the elimination of an entire show and its team, eventually had a direct impact on the Campbell Brown show. Our executive producer who makes the final decisions on hiring and whom we had been getting to know over the last few months, was leaving the show to be replaced by the producer of the Amanpour show. Our EP was actually getting promoted to Director of evening programming to be based out of Atlanta. However, this was bitter news for us, the interns. All the work we had done and everything she had seen happen were gone with her. We now had to start all over with a new Executive Producer.

I didn’t realize this at the time, but it ended up being a positive for me. Katherine O’Hearn, the EP for the Amanpour show who was now taking over the Campbell Brown show, actually remembered me! I had initially wanted to intern on that show and got an offer, one day after Campbell Brown made me an offer. According to protocol, they could not then take me away from the Campbell Brown show; however, I could work on the Amanpour show the days I wasn’t at CB. However, those fell few and far between. But Katherine remembered me from those few times. The first day she was on the CB show, I was asked to help her organize her office. When she came back about 45 minutes later, I had all her files organized alphabetically; I had organized her drawers according to the framework she left, and had uncluttered all the associated mess. She was very happy with me and said, “I remember your application for the Amanpour show. Wish you had been part of our permanent team there. I like your attitude even when you’re given tasks which I’m sure aren’t the reason you took the internship.” As a sort of reward, she sent me down to watch the final taping of the Amanpour show, saying she needed a few of her things as she winked at me from the corner of her eye. A wide smile spread across my face. When I went downstairs and met Christiane, I felt elated to be in the presence of my life-long, professional role model.

The rest of the week went by without too much to do, however, it was exciting to know that the EP knew my name and appreciated my attitude. I hope to keep it up!

Week Ten: Some Work, More Play

I only worked three days this week, as it was the week of my cousin, Sanam’s wedding. However, it just those three days I saw how the last few weeks had paid off. People asked for me by name. Emailed me with work before I could ask if anyone needed anything. It gave me a sense of comfort to know that they felt I was reliable, that I got the work done. I worked the evening shift on Monday, meaning I got to stay through the show, which starts at 9 p.m.

Whenever I work the evening shows, I feel that I get a lot more experience into how things happen, since we get to know the actual tools that go into formatting and running the show as it’s on television. On this day, I got to attend the show. This meant that I got to sit in the studio as the show was on air. I saw how the camera crew works, how breaks work, how to make adjustments when things change in the show. I also got to see how the producers time-out the show and calculate changes in adjustment. Whenever something changed, I got to be the go-between, filling in the rest of the team on what the producers changed and how it affected their segments. Even though it was a small task in the greater realm of production, I felt trusted and efficient and kind of reluctant to leave for even a few days. I didn’t want to lose that credibility and consistency that I had built here. Tuesday and Wednesdays I work the early shift.

Sometimes it’s slower in the mornings, but this Tuesday we had a packaging class led by one of the show producers. This is the position right under the executive producer. So these guys really know what they are doing, and interns were allowed to attend! During the class we analyzed and learned the difference between great packages and mediocre ones, what stories catch attention and what maintains viewer interest, we also learned important tools such as how and when to interview, when to use a quote, how to elicit responses for the questions you want answered, and how to edit the package to where the flow of the video follows the flow of the story. This was a great meeting, and I think the notes really helped me in understanding broadcast story writing better than I ever had before. I’m more used to writing for print, and this class clarified for me the similarities and differences between broadcast script and print.

As Wednesday ended, I packed for my journey the next day. My flight for Dallas left at 7pm that day, and I made it there safely around 11pm heading straight to my cousin’s house for the Mehndi, henna application, ceremony. As I walked in, I felt a wave of elation as all my cousins, aunts, and uncles came running to me with hugs and kisses. I felt that same sort of belongingness the rest of the week as the wedding festivities continued. The passionate ambition of New York and the intimate familiarity of Texas began an inner battle within me that weekend. I returned on Monday hesitant to leave my family yet excited to get back to the news process.

Week Ten Continued: Childhood memories come full circle...

For as long as I can remember, my best friends have been my cousins. I truly feel lucky and inspired to have lived the childhood I did. I would only wish the same upon future generations: to have such a loving and caring family where fun and excitement lead to growth and love. I don't know who I'd be if it hadn't been for the family I had growing up. I truly believe this is what our generation needs: a devoted, committed, and loving family that can gently show us our own flaws and teach us how to reach beyond them and aspire to greater heights.

At Sanam's wedding at little over a month ago (wow can't believe it's already been that long) I realized more why even distance and time cannot separate the Hooani bond. It is truly something special that we have all come to appreciate, whether we understand it or not. This weekend was very special for all of us since, as we grow older we seem to have less and less time to spend with one another as new familial ties are formed and responsibilities added. I was anticipating my arrival to Dallas on the entire journey from New York, thinking through how it would be to see the entire family gathered in front of me when I arrived. When I landed, my heart skipped a beat. I could FEEL the sensation of being HOME. A small word that means much more than a house or a room, a word that allows me to feel myself as I truly am, in the comfort of the people that matter the most.

Dad picked me up from the airport and we headed to Carrolton. We pulled into Eagle point Drive and the plethora of cars displayed in front of me allowed my imagination to merge with reality. We were here. This is it, I thought, Sanam is getting married. We had talked about this day ever since we were 9 years old and our mom's bought us the same training bras (LOL, remember that?). "When we get married, its going to be..." or "Well we still have 10 years before we have to worry about marriage..." Ah, where does time fly? I was thinking through these conversations as I entered 1512 Eagle point drive: a place I had entered so many times before, but one that was now filled with the bright colors and sounds of wedding time. I walked in and was instantly clouded by faces of cousin after cousin, relative after relative, as a jubilant, "Samreen!!" rang through the hall. I had the biggest smile on my face and a few tears in my eyes. I hugged tightly nearly every member of our over-sized family, feeling the warmth and joy present in the ambiance. Then I went and hugged Sanam, and though neither of us expected it, the years of friendship and trust came pouring out in tears; rolling down our eyes as we embraced the moment in each other's embrace. This was the beginning of a new life, a marriage, as we had discussed so many times before over the last few decades. It was time. Our lives that had slowly been shifting away from each other for all these years, but this moment was one to embrace the light of the future, with a realization that distance doesn't mean separation. We played antakshari and laughed, caught up, and remembered old times. Overall, the mehndi was beautifully done: very intimate and elegant, simple yet decadent.

But that was just the beginning of the traditional wedding ceremonies. We still had busy days and sleepless nights ahead of us. That night we began practicing our dance performances. At every wedding in the family, there are five of us that ALWAYS dance. And this was going to be the first wedding when one of that five was getting married. So, we decided to do a tribute of all our old songs as a memory of the times we had danced together. You would think that rehearsing old dances could only take so long, but we were up till 6 in the morning AGAIN just trying to remember and synchronize all our old moves. LOL. :) It was actually pretty exciting and so much fun to go through and try to recall how we did it the first time. It probably took longer because we kept getting distracted by remembering old memories and creating new ones in those very moments.

The next day was the Pithi ceremony and the night of our big performance. We were still practicing in the hallway of fun asia as guests entered and ate and got ready to be entertained. I'm so glad we decided to start with mine and Sanam's oldest songs. It brought back the years of friendship in a matter of a few seconds. Sanam was my first true best friend. And as happens with best friends, we had our differences and our disarray. But, as happens with family, we always came back to trust that this was more than friendship. That relationship really brought all of us together allowing us to understand each other's quirks, but appreciating the differences nonetheless. Realizing, its the quirks and the oddities that bring us closer.

All of this came together on the day of the satada when the slideshow and the circle of inside jokes really reminded us of how much we've been through together. Even though we picked really sad songs in the slideshow (DUH) I think we would've teared up despite the music. I mean just seeing the pictures from middle school could have brought tears of embarrassment to anyone lol. As we sat from oldest to youngest and remembered at least one fun memory we had together, we all felt the strength of our relationship, the commitment we all have to our family and the fun and laughter that binds it all together. So, this may be excessively cheesy, but it has to be sad. I mean you have to cry at a Satada, DUH! Some things never change: of course, when Hushu spilled the coke, no one was surprised. And when Dadabapa started coming after us with CHUNA, we knew to run! :)

But in the end, I just hope that as we all grow up, living our own independent lives, we not only remember our past and cherish it, but we also make an effort to relive it!

At least those parts that don't deal with stained carpets and crying at weddings...

Week Nine: Yet Another Lesson

iNews is the system we use to create a show, and this week I got to learn all about it. It may not seem like it, but 10 hours is barely enough to create a one-hour show on primetime. Our production team consists of writers, editors, production assistants, associate producers, segment producers, graphics, video editors, bookers, and many more people that do a variety of tasks. Each segment of the show is approximately 6 minutes and we've usually got 8 segments every night. Each segment has a unique overlay, including various voice-overs, SOT's, text boxes, panels, etc. This means that each segment producer is in charge of making that 6-minute production the most challenging, catchy, clear, concise, and exciting as they can.

In the morning production meeting, it is decided which segments will cover which aspects of the news. Then, the segment producer, along with his or her team, gathers data, facts, quotes, videos, interviews, and potential guests for the show in order to make that piece of news exciting and innovative for the viewers. This is the production method of broadcast journalism. All of this work, and the actual formatting of the show happens on the iNews program.

I walked into the class, opened up the program and stared at the screen, utterly confused. All I saw where random boxes and folders with no mental map for me to follow. Our trainer started with the specifics, telling us what defined each area and how all these random tools were interconnected. That gave me immediate clarity. I saw how the tools functioned with one another to create a programming tool that could be used by an entire production team without confusing overlap. We were then asked to create model segments of shows so that we could practice writing script, packaging content, writing server commands, and inserting video commands all into iNews. Unless all this is done properly, the show will not air clearly. When we see an anchor toss to video, there is a specific command for that. Or when a SOT is heard, the server has to call that up according to a command function. After learning all these tools, I better understood how television production happens and why sustaining viewership is important.

Outside of work, this week was a very community heavy time. I delivered content in the Jamat Khana and I was able to focus my energies on sustaining my school and work side, while not losing touch with the aspect of faith. Some weeks this is harder, but this week the balance felt natural. I was very in touch with the faith of my work and the work in my faith, if that makes sense. Everything seemed to have a purpose. I was even able to make some time to help remotely prepare for my cousin Sanam's wedding the following week. And as the week ended, I was ready to head out and encounter the Hooda family back in Texas!

Week Eight: As the World Turns...

"Today I want you to shadow a PA (Production Assistant) to see how segments of the show are put together," my boss told me. So I went over to the huddle of PA's and asked if I could shadow one of them. It was the perfect week for me to do so, as the PA's are the ones who do most of the research and video collaboration for the show, and this week, the Texas gubernatorial race was on. I knew a little more about this than most of the PA's, being Texan and all.

So I began helping with the 100 block, which is the first segment of the show. It is referred to as the Mash-up because it's the segment during which we take major news stories of the week and mash them together to create a 3 minute collaboration of what the viewers need to know. We were focusing on the issue with Senator Bunning which was upholding the renewal of unemployment benefits. I searched for compelling video of all the coverage for the week on this issue. I also logged and scripted some of the video and compiled important text. Along with this, I got to do research on the Texas race: who is likely to win, who is running, what do each of the candidates stand for, what are the odds of each winning. All of these were relevant questions and the angle could go in many directions. Thus, I began to dwell into my own research, making sure I was focused on the end goal, without losing sight of exciting details that may make the story more palpable for viewers.

After the end of a long and mentally draining day, I watched the show air. And though I played a very small part in the process of gathering facts and putting the show together, it was very exciting to see some of my research and words end up on air. It gave me a sense of accomplishment and completion. I felt alive and passionate to be a part of the process of free media and the press. A process that I hope to continue and be a part of even after this semester. At least that's the goal!

Week Seven: Overcoming Sickness

I got to the airport with a ticket heading back to New York, via Chicago, but the whole time I was thinking that I had been in Texas, so close to home, yet unable to visit. Well sometimes when you wish for something hard enough, it happens. All flights to and out of Chicago were cancelled. The cause: a snow storm. Any other flights going directly to New York had left for the evening. There was no way I was getting to New York that night. The next flight out of Houston left the following day, meaning I would have to spend another night there. Or, I could take a flight out the next morning from Dallas! Guess what I decided? Yup. Took the next flight to Dallas and showed up at the doorstep of my house. :) Parents were ecstatic. I got to spend a day in my room. Sleep in my bed. Had mom's home cooked food with the family. It was just what I needed at the end of a chaotic week.

I came back the next day and went straight to work. As I walked in, a few bookers and writers gave me tasks to do. It was exciting to know that I had made a place for myself here. People knew who I was and trusted my work. It was nice to be back in the familiar and exciting world of news media. However, sooner than I thought, the chaos of the previous week caught up to me. Before I knew it sickness took over and I had to spend the rest of time focused on myself and resting. Sometimes when you are in a place like New York, always on the go, you forget about the very real, physical limitations that is the human condition. Sleep, rest, and time for self are not options. But, when you're excited about your environment and want to take the most advantage of where you are, you tend to place those things on the back-burner. Until they catch up to you.

This week was about making myself stronger. It was all about making sure that I was able, capable, and strong enough to take on the world around me. And it was about overcoming sickness, both outward and internal. It is around this time, every year, that students start getting sick. Whether we are in New York or back on campus. I think its because we take on so much, battle our inner selves and try to come out conquering everything. But in order to go beyond the teeming normalcy and take on the world, we have to find an inner strength that can fuse with the weaknesses of our bodies. This allows us to regain strength and find an inner certainty. This certainty goes beyond confidence, because it comes from beyond ourselves.

One of my best friend's came to visit this week. It helped me to talk through the mental and physical exhaustion as we traversed the streets of New York and focused on the spiritual reality of life. Amongst the bright lights and materialism of Times Square and in the urban, natural moments of Central Park, we found an answer to life's weakness. Life doesn't make sense as we live it, but I think looking back, everything brings you the very moment you're in. It's like the past refocuses you, bringing you the present. This awareness brought an end to my physical sickness and I took on the next week, ready for new responsibilities at work.

Week Six: Truly A NY Minute

This was the week of Feb. 15th. I had been at my internship for almost a month. I had become more comfortable with directions and places in NY. I had begun considering New York more of a home and myself less of a tourist. But this week I truly understood what people mean when they say, NY is busy. The week started off with a breaking news story. A plane had been hit into the IRS building in Austin, Tx. All coverage on other matters had stopped. This was now priority. Questions were floating about the newsroom. Who did this? And more importantly why? Could this be yet another terrorist plot? Why choose a relatively small building in Texas? We were bogged with research. As more facts were discovered, the story became more clear. This had been a personal vendetta, but one that many still considered fanatic. Important details became available as rigorous research tactics were employed. He was one of us, an American, one frustrated with his own government. The week continued on as we found as much as possible about the incident. More news came and went and somehow the time was lost in many NY minutes.

Before I knew it, it was Friday. And rather than spend the weekend relaxing from this reeling week, I was off, on a plane to Houston, TX. Though New York has begun to feel more like home, the prospect of racing highways and wide, open spaces put a smile on my face as I began my journey to Texas. I got out of the terminal and, for the first time in over a month, I sat in a car! It felt unreal that I didn't need to go into an underground lair in order to be transported to various parts of the city. As the highway moved beneath us, I was sure this weekend would be exciting! Exhausted from the long day of traveling and the week of chaos, I did the natural thing: got to my hotel and headed out for a fun dinner! lol.

The weekend literally flew by as we trained ourselves on how to train teachers to teach. It's probably more complicated than it sounds, which is why an entire weekend with some of the best minds from around the nation still doesn't seem to solve the problem. Maybe the solution is part of the problem. Hours and hours of discussion went by, formative activities were included, creative lesson planning strategies taught, all resulting in a wish-list of practical goals for the upcoming year. Before I knew it, I was heading back with the awesome crew, The Table of Trouble, to the airport. It was fun to reconnect and plunge into deep discussions of the spiritual sort. Each of our personalities is so different. It really is a wonder that we can come together and get any work done. Well after the performances of "AAl is Well" in TE land, poetic affirmations of faith, and comical interludes of our own faulty human nature, we left with a sighof a relief and a feeling of accomplishment. And in a NY Minute, I was back at the airport, ready to enter another week, somehow less healthy but more awake.

Peace Amongst Chaos

I've been in New York for almost 2 months now. And one thing I've come to realize is no matter where in the world you are, whether it be the smallness of Waco or the grandeur of Manhattan, there are some things in life that matter everywhere: family, friends, love, enlightenment and peace.

Everyday I experience something new about this city. I see the opportunities and I see the despair. I see simplicity in central park and then I see excessive materialism on fifth avenue. I find opportunists lurking around street corners, and I find angels immersed within the daily crowd. Today I found something that most people don't associate with New York City. I found serenity.

Walking down the Brooklyn Bridge with thousands of cars racing below, in a hurry to get to some unknown place, I found a moment of clarity. Amidst the teeming chaos beneath, I felt a rising peace. And I understood. Peace can be found anywhere, because it IS everywhere. It is something that you bring forth from within and it envelops you, clearing away the confusion, easing the stress, comforting the ache. Today, I was able to allow peace to reenter my chaotic life. Shukar.

Lost Days...

Some days aren't yours at all..they come and go as if they're someone else's days.. They come and leave behind someone else's face.. And it's harsher than yours.

Today was one of those days. It wasn't a day for me. It was a day I was merely present it. A lost day. A day without any seeming purpose or anticipation. A day of confusion and reflection. It was as if the snowstorm of last night had ended, taking with it the wonder and grandeur of creation. All that was left was the melting slush on the sidewalk mirroring the melting within. Without the lost days, though, you don't find the path to the Light.

Recognizing the light is purpose. So I guess, ironically, lost days give you purpose, even though they leave you without a map.

Something Old and Something New

I came into contact with something old. Yet, experiencing it this time around, it felt completely new. As if the circumstances and the setting had somehow changed the character of the people involved. It was bittersweet. It was liberating and lonely at the same time. It's like you breath a sigh of relief at the end of a heart-wrenching journey, but then you realize that with the journey ends an aspect of life. Now what? Where to next? Even thought the journey was a turmoil, it was a comfortable pain you had come to live with. It's like walking on a path of thorns. After a while you get used to the thorns. So when you enter a grassy field of petals, and no longer feel the pain of the thorns, its as if something is missing. As if you had found a purpose in the pain. With feet unaccustomed to thornless paths, I must now readjust. I hope I can find my way.

Week Five: A New Beginning

Once you've got what you're searching for, it feels surreal. You think any moment now you're going to wake up and realize you never had it because in the moment you feel a perpetual bliss that can't possibly be real. Well, I haven't yet woken up from the dream of working at CNN Headquarters in New York city. Just typing that gives me goosebumps.

Week Five in the city was my first real week at CNN. I didn't feel new there though. I felt like I was born to work here. The people, the atmosphere, the press meetings, the ideas, everything floating around as if I were on cloud nine and they were rotating around me :) Ok, super cheesy I know but I still don't believe that I am a small part of the news-making process. Within a week of being here I'm learning how to responsibly and creatively pitch a piece. I've learned how production is completed, how departments work, how to handle a breaking news situation, graphic editing and video production. With the battles rising in Afghanistan and Bill Clinton's sudden change of pace, Iran's controversial buildup of nuclear weapons and the beginnings of the winter olympics in Vancouver, I felt as if every event was unfolding in front of my very own eyes.

Now I understand the virtue of "Bearing Witness." In Islam when one bears witness to the oneness of Allah or the prophetic nature of Muhammad, we recite Ashadu meaning I bear witness. In journalism, when a reporter objectively tells a story about what she witnessed right before her very eyes, it is also a type of devotion. It is a devotion to truth. A devotion to get the word out to the very people who need to know what's happening. It is a service to mankind, allowing them to evaluate for themselves what the observation of the reporter meant. Faith and world thus, for me, intertwine... even at work :)

A Day of Laughter on This Day of Love

Today was Valentine's day. Yes, I'm stating the obvious. But what you may not know is that today I felt truly loved, appreciated and happy. This had everything to do with two friends who have come into my life here in New York as angels of laughter and givers of joy. We may have only known each other for a little over a month, but to me it seems that some friendships form rather quickly but provide the deepest of securities.

I could attempt to recount everything we did today and how it panned out, but I think that may take away from the experience itself. Suffice to say we left with a single plan this afternoon at 2:30p.m. and didn't return home until now 3:30a.m. That's the beauty of New York City. What did we do in this over 12-hour long journey? The world may never know...

But I don't think we'll ever forget :)

Week Four: Search and Seizure.

CNN. The United Nations. Huffington Post. Global Vision. I ventured all these channels, hoping against all odds that someone would have an opening for me that someone would take me in off the streets. The days went by in pursuit and wait, speculation and desire. Oh what it would be like to research foreign news for CNN International. My, how my time would be spent in the foreign policy department of the United Nations, watching important delegates negotiate and compromise. The daydreams became more intricate and the time slowed down. The hustle and bustle of the last few weeks had almost come to a standstill.

Then it happened. My interview results were in. Global Vision welcomed me on board. CNN called me to come in for a face-to-face meeting. Of course I went. The excitement of the day barely let me sleep the night before. I was up and ready to go an hour before I actually had to leave. I arrived at the Time Warner building 20 minutes early with a huge smile plastered to my face. I checked my bag, got my guest pass and took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

“I’m here for Mr. Saddique.”

“Ok, make yourself comfortable, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

I sat down in front of the five networks delivering news to me from various angles, waiting.

“Ms. Samreen, hello.” Mr. Saddique’s voice came from behind me. I stood up, we shook hands and I followed him to the conference room. A round of question-answer was played with my resume in his hands. After a nervous 20 minutes of conversation, he said, “Well, I really think you would fit right in here.” My heart started thumping, alas too soon. “But I don’t know how much room we still have for interns.” I waited apprehensively, too afraid to breathe.

“Let me call our Intern coordinator.” After hearing a series of uh huh…hmm…umhmm’s, the call was over. “Well we may have an opening at the Cambell Brown show.” Ok. I thought. Not the ideal, but it was an opening. I’ll take it. I’ll take anything with CNN.

“Would you like a tour of the facility?”

“Yes, of course,” I smiled like a tourist on her first celebrity encounter. We walked the studio. “And here is where all the shows are taped, Anderson Cooper 360, Wolf Blitzer and CNN International’s Amanpour…” I gasped.

“Here? You mean this is where Ms. Amanpour records?”

“Yes of course. She’s here everyday for her show.”

My mouth hung open. What if she was here now? On that day luck was on my side. It was as if I had drunk the Felix Felicis. We walked out of the studio and she passed right in front of me, not seeing us. I gasped. She heard. She turned around to find me staring at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Before I knew it she stood in front of me with an outstretched hand saying “hello,” in her mingled British yet Middle Eastern accent. I was completely taken aback. Somehow I managed to say, “Wow. Hello. I think you’re brilliant.” She smiled, thanking me and returning to her previous course.

“I would love to work on her team,” I told Mr. Saddique. And once again the Felix worked its magic. Her senior producer walked by, Samuel Burke.

“Well, that’s her senior producer. Why don’t I introduce you,” Mr. Saddique said. I have not yet found the words to describe how far beyond ecstatic I was. He spoke with me, saying they had most of their interns but he would look at my resume anyway. I prayed and hoped and wished and pleaded with every power that may be that somehow this would work out. The next day it seemed the elixir had not yet rubbed off. I had a missed call and a voicemail….it was Mr. Samuel Burke! I called him back precisely at the time he asked and we entered an interview type dialogue. I couldn’t believe my ears at how it ended.

“I think you’d be a great match with our team. I’d like to bring this conversation up at our meeting tomorrow. Why don’t you email me Thursday and we can set your schedule?”

“Yes sir, sure sir!” I splurged quickly, hanging up the phone with a cheesy grin on my face and thumping heart.

The search was over. I had gotten what I was after. I learned quite a few lessons this week:

1. Never, ever give up on your dream, even when it seems it may be too late.
2. At the same time, don’t ever trample on or utilize another’s dream to achieve your own.

I’d like to end this blog with the wise words of my favorite author: “When you really want something, the entire universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

–Paulo Coelho

Week Three: Abundant Changes.

This week I made some major changes. I may not have handled them all the right way, but I believe they were decisions I needed to make. I went to work as usual on Monday and Tuesday, still not doing much at work. There are four of us interns in the press office with very little workload. I spent most of my time reading for class and catching up on intern logs. But with so little to report I felt as if my time in New York was slowly slipping by in front of my very eyes, and I could do nothing about it. I sat in the press office anxiously as a few floors below me I knew was buzzing activity of the daily news kind. I wanted so acutely to be located just 7 floors lower in the same building, helping to research stories and learn from those much more experienced then me. I had come to admire the people I worked with here on the PR side of the business. I knew they could and would teach me more in the days to come, but I felt unhappy. I felt wasteful and ungracious when it dawned on me. This was not the place for me. This was my one chance at a semester in New York City and I was so close yet so far from the position I wanted to hold. I made a rash decision. It is not one I regret, but one I desperately wish I had handled better.

I decided to attempt altering my internship in search of one that gave me the experience and workload I aspired to gain from my one shot in the bustling city of my dreams. I attempted to leave the CBS Press Office and take my fortune to a more news-based environment. First I sought to consult our intern coordinator to see if another position within CBS could be more fitting, so as not to burn any bridges and solidify something rather quickly. I realized however that the reality of such an ideal situation was beyond my reach. I may have to track other options. Rather than taking the proper channels of communication, I was thrust into an awkward pursuit when I tried to honestly yet reasonably discuss the situation with my boss. And, as tends to happen with those of us who write better than we speak, I was quickly misunderstood. The words meaning to leave my mouth in an “I’d really appreciate it if I could gain more experience in a news setting” fashion, were heard more as “I quit so I can pursue something I like better” manner. Unguarded and naïve, I left feeling as if my clouded judgment on the matter had made the situation worse. I felt guilty and entitled, unappreciative and vain. All emotions my usual self steers clear of. It made matters worse when I looked back on the whole ordeal, realizing I had taken a spot that someone else may have worked really hard to apply for. What made me think I could take advantage of such a situation or that I would even find another internship? Feeling guilty yet somehow free, I raced home and began working on other channels to secure an internship.

Meanwhile, my birthday came and went. It was my first birthday away from Texas. The first night was a traditional night on the town, but the night of my actual birthday was a brand new experience. I took on a freelance story in the heart of Harlem, at the Apollo Theater. It was a Muslim arts revival concert where the likes of Aasif Mandvi and Mos Def would be performing. I got to do a piece on it. It was one of the greatest birthday presents I could’ve asked for.

From Waco to Manhattan-Lessons Learned

After Two Weeks: 01/22/2010

Well after two weeks of living in the city of New York, there are some lessons I’ve had to learn. These are the do's and dont's of New York life….here we go.

Lesson one: Avenues are farther than streets.

On the first day of work, my co-worker and I decided to walk to 5^th avenue during our lunch break. Our logic was that 5 streets equal 5 blocks, easy to walk in a span of five minutes, thus 5 avenues must also take 5 minutes. Well, we were definitely wrong! One avenue is equivalent to walking about 3 streets, unless it’s a long avenue like broadway. By the time we got to 7^th avenue, 25 minutes had passed and we were huffing and puffing, shoes driving into the back of our heels. But we had learned: avenues are much farther apart than streets!

Lesson two: Only buy what you can carry.

I needed groceries. So I went to the store and bought groceries. I walked there. It was only two blocks away, an easy trot on a day that wasn’t too cold, about 42 degrees. The process was fairly simple. I bought a gallon of milk, juice, and some essentials. And then I left the store, stopping abruptly right outside the entrance. Uh oh. I don’t have a car. I walked here. I have to carry all of this stuff back. Shoot! Needless to say, as I shifted back and forth struggling to carry everything in my two bare hands, I learned real quick: only buy what you can carry, what you can walk with!

Lesson three: You walk a lot in New York, that is NOT an exaggeration, but more like an understatement.

When people told me, “take comfortable shoes, you’ll walk A LOT in New York,” I thought well how much walking could it be. I enjoy walking; it’ll be fun. Little did I know a lot doesn’t even come close to the proper definition, at least not for those of us from the south who take cars to even the closest of locations, whose gentle soles have never intimately connected with the streets long enough to know them. I enjoy walking. In fact, I used to walk everywhere on Baylor’s campus. But walking in New York is a different experience. It’s cold, windy, and sometimes rainy. There are stairs EVERYWHERE! The streets and avenues are crowded, and you have limited time to get to where you are going. This means you have to walk at insane speeds, catch subways, climb stairs, cross people who are too slow, make room for people who are faster, and get to where you are going on time. Always on time in a workaholic culture is a mandate, NOT an option. So yes, you walk a lot, but the important thing to remember is: you walk in ALL conditions!

So I’ve finished week two here and am starting my third week. I’ve learned the subway map pretty well. I know where three different lines begin in my area and where they will take me too. I know how to hail a cab if need be and I know compass directions. Streets run north to south and avenues run east to west. Streets increase in number as you go north and avenues as you head west. I know how to buy street food and where central park is in case you need a breath of fresh air in a city where second-hand smoke blows in your face at every street corner. But I have much still to learn. I feel this place could become home, but it definitely isn’t home just yet. I still miss the feel of Jamat khana in Texas and sometimes the ability to jump into my car and go whenever I want. I miss southern hospitality. It’s not that people are mean here like some rumors say, in fact I’ve found people to be quite helpful, but they’re ambitious and don’t EVER waste time. Some days I love the fast paced life that New York brings with its multitude of entertainment options and plethora of cultural experiences. Other days I miss sitting at home with apa and choti and mom and dad with nothing to do but watch a movie and eat home cooked food. Well that’s the best of both worlds, and most of the time you can’t have both. Overall my transition from Waco to Manhattan has been eclectic and surreal, riveting and electric.

From Waco to Manhattan

Week One: 01/09/2010
Day One, Saturday:

After an anxious night of packing, while carrying overly stuffed luggage and still reeling from the thought that I may be facing my future head-on, I headed to Dallas Lovefield airport. Dad and apa dropped me to the airport where of course one of my bags was overweight. After juggling some luggage and bearing a heavier burden on my shoulder-strapped handbag, I headed off to security with dad right next to me-a reassuring guide and a hopeful ally.

As I entered security, undressing and redressing to assure the guards that no dangerous lotions or powdery substances of any kind were hidden within my seemingly anxious exterior, I realized that I was anxious. Anxious for leaving a comfortable home environment, anxious for facing an entirely unique city, anxious for possibly coming face to face with my own future goals.

I loaded the plane. The Southwest Airlines flight attendant came on, ding, “We have now been cleared to travel the country.” And we took off. We stopped at Oklahoma City. No plane change. I slept. We stopped at Baltimore. No plane change. I slept. Finally, the pilot came on, “folks, we will be landing at LaGuardia airport in New York City in approximately 20 minutes where the local time is 4:08 p.m. We hope you enjoyed your flight. Welcome to New York!”

My drowsiness vanished. My shoulders perched up. I reached for my over-stuffed handbag jerking out my brand-new camera and waiting for the moment of perpetual exhilaration: and then it came. Brooklyn Bridge, Ellis Island, Statue of Liberty, the Empire State…the New York Skyline! Snap, snap, snap. I took about half a dozen pictures from every angle as local passengers on the plane stared in wonderment at my intrigue of a dozen buildings separated by a few bridges. But to me, it was awe-inspiring. A city of dreams, but more so a city of life!

I exited the plane. Claimed my baggage, and hailed a taxi. Just like a local. Except then I frantically searched my planner for the street address, clearly unveiling any chance I had at disguising myself as a New Yorker. With a series of phone calls home, assuring everyone I had arrived safely, I came face to face with my future residence: New York City.

After all the troubles, the nerves, the schizophrenia between being a city girl or a country gal, I realized I was exhilarated; ready to be exposed to the city where opportunities knock just as frequently as blunt minded, sin morale opportunists. But here I was; ready to take on the unknown or remain unknown, ready to be an award-winning novelist with a distinguished voice as a foreign correspondent or a failed writer and mediocre reporter, but I’m rooting for the prior.

A night of unpacking and settling in followed. My first subway ride took me to Laila’s apartment on the corner of 14th and 8th avenue in downtown Manhattan. Exhausted and exhilarated, I fell into a wakeful, restless sleep.

Day Two, Sunday:

It was 7 a.m., there was no alarm and I was awake. I don’t think I had ever been asleep really to wake up, but my eyes opened and I had a whole new world in front of me, a dazzling place that I never knew. Ignore the Disney reference. ☺

Well, I had no dishes, no food, no water, no cups, and I was hungry. So I went to the local grocer, and then of course a quick stop to CVS (mom would be proud) and I had everything I needed. Then came the hardest part, transportation. Learning the subway system definitely takes some getting used to. There are miles and miles of trains that stop and start at all these different places and sometimes the same train switches tracks and you don’t know where its going anymore…well just on the weekends. So anytime you want to go ANYWHERE, you don’t just jump in the car and then decide where to go. You need to figure out where, in which part of NY, which store you want to go to so that you can figure out which subway stop is closest, so you can figure out where you want to leave from. All of this has to happen BEFORE you leave the house, or you’ll just walk around looking for a subway and then not knowing where it takes you. But I’m getting better at this now that it has been 2 weeks since I’ve been here.

Day Three, Monday:

The next morning I woke up before my alarm went off, bright and early on a Monday morning. It was my first day at work and I was psyched. I got ready with a romantic notion of what working at CBS would entail: random news alerts causing breaking news chaos, news stories coming off the wire and flying around over my head in the hands of reporters and editors, producers and executives constantly on the phone changing the run-downs, making crucial decisions on what story should be at the top of the hour….and then I was in front of the building.
524 Columbus Circle on 57th street and 10th avenue.

Apprehensively I walked in. A wave of wind blew through me as I turned the rotating door to enter the lobby of one of America’s oldest and most renowned broadcast news networks. On the right of me were couches facing various tv networks all showing tidbits of news. To my left was the CBS breakfast and coffee bar. And right in front of me was the ID entrance and the traditional Arthurian round table, where a knight in shining armor awaited my response…

“Miss, hello miss, may I help you.”

“Oh sorry,” I said, quickly regaining my senses and realizing I had not breathed since I entered. “I work here now, I need to see Sonya McNair.”

“Ok, one moment please,” he said as he dialed my faceless boss with a very serious face of his own. And a few moments later, I was in! Walking down the hall of the rather illustrious yet historic branded building called the CBS Broadcasting Center, I felt overwhelmed and excited. A true excitement like the tingling of the nerves when you walk out of a warm bath and hit comfortably cool sheets. An excitement that lingered with me for the entire day.
As I waited for the newscast to begin and watched the writers finish last minute editing on the content to air, I heard a voice that I recalled as quite familiar. I heard her far before I saw her.

“Is this the final piece? Do we need any changes made on the Haiti copy?” It was Katie Couric. The famed voice never evaded me. She was out of eyeshot but apparently nearby. Another voice followed, “2 minutes out.”

“I’m going, I’m going, just make sure I get the updated copy.” And before I saw her, she was gone into the newsroom. After the 30-minute newscast, which I watched and heard intently through the glass encasing, she returned. With her team of make-up artists, hairdressers, and costume designers Katie headed into the makeup room. I strolled slowly out, not wanting to miss her exit. As I walked very, very slowly out of the newsroom, she emerged, standing right in front of me.

“It was really great watching you in studio.”
“Why thank you, so much,” she said with a quizzical stare apparently trying to recall my face or name in the database of her memory.
“I’m Hillary’s intern, Samreen, Samreen Hooda.”
“Well, its very nice meeting you Samreen,” she said. “You have a very unique name.”

It was the encounter of a lifetime! And I don’t think she’ll forget my name anytime soon! ☺