Dah Blue was born 17 years ago in Myanmar, formerly Burma. Her home there was destroyed, her family was forced to flee for their lives without a penny or two sets of clothes.
She has a dream, and we will try and make it come true.
She has no memories of her home there; her mother, father, sister, and two brothers fled as soldiers destroyed their community and threatened their lives. Genocides do make us uncomfortable, which is why we need to talk about them. They need to make us uncomfortable.
The first eight years of Dah’s life were spent in refugee camps in Thailand. The family came to the United States in 2011. Her father moves the stock at Wal-Mart; her mother is a baker in the same store. Her sister Blue, a gifted artist, is in her first year of college.
The Army of Good helped the family pay Dah’s tuition at Bishop Maginn. Otherwise, they could not have afforded it. and she very much needed and wanted to be there.
Dah is quiet, gentle, shy, and very bright.
Like the other refugee children I’ve met at Bishop Maginn, There is no cynicism, bitterness, grievance, or complaint in her.
I am always moved by how much much more fortunate and comfortable and safer people in America complain about their lives than these refugees whose lives were destroyed.
Dah has nothing bad to say about anyone, although there is a sadness about her when she talks of the camp. There is no self-pity in her.
She is courteous, thoughtful, and nervous about her dream. “A lot of people around me don’t think I will succeed.” she says in almost a whisper. “It makes me nervous.”
We talked a long time about creativity, my blog, Maria’s fiber art.
She asked a lot of questions about Maria.
She was skeptical that Maria was working full-time as an artist and selling her work on the Internet. I said I believe that the first step is to try out her dream and make some beautiful stuff, she can figure it out from there.
She was also shocked when I told her I started writing when I was her age and never stopped. You can do that in America, I said, if you want to. This seemed almost unfathomable to her.
“I’d like to do it,” she said, “but there isn’t the money to buy the materials I need.”
I laughed. I’m a Dreamaker, I said, and so are the people in the Army Of Good, who help me help people like you. I said that all you need is a little push and some confidence; the rest is up to you.
Dah says she wants to put up the Etsy workshop and promises to work hard on her jewelry.
She whipped out her phone and showed me a score of designs, all of the original, bright, and appealing.
She and her friends talk about bracelets and jewelry all the time; she said she is in an excellent position to know what other young women might want.
She wants to make bracelets and custom jewelry and open an Etsy Workshop. She can’t do it on her own until she is 18, but her mother has agreed to put the workshop up in her name.
Duh has a name for the workshop that she loves: Blue Bee. I love it too.
She went on Instagram to show me a bracelet she has made:
Talking to these very special people is very good for me; it reminds me to thank what I was given and what I have.
Dah is a junior.
She wants to go to college, but she is unsure what she wants to be. Sometimes she thinks she’d like to be a flight attendant. But she’s not sure.
During our talk today, she confessed that she did have a dream. I’m used to interviewing these quiet children. I sometimes have to gently squeeze it out of them. They never ask for anything.
She lights up when she talks of her dream; I told her we would make it happen, at least when it comes to the materials she needs. The rest is, of course, up to her.
This evening, after we spent an hour online looking through what she will need for her workshop, I came home. I went on Amazon and two craft sites. I bought 19 different beads, string, fabrics and stones, letters and symbols, colors, shapes, sizes, and other materials, including the popular Heishi bracelet materials and beads, from Polymer Clay to colorful vinyl.
The materials cost over $100 and go to Bishop Maginn High School In Albany. They should all have arrived by Friday Dah wants to stay in touch with Maria and me, keep us posted, and let us know when the workshop is up, and there is something for her to sell.
I am very blessed to be a Dreammaker. Dah is very much worth it. I’ll follow her workshop and let everyone know when it’s up. Sue Silverstein messaged me tonight to say Dah was very excited. Sue can tell; Dah doesn’t show it.
Yesterday, I also learned of a student at the high school who suffers from severe anxiety. She loves to draw, and six books specially designed to ease anxiety are on their way to the school, along with 120 colored pencils.
It is lovely to be back at Bishop Maginn. I love being a Dreammaker. Next week, I’ll be there again with Zinnia, and possibly, Maria.
I can’t see the comments on this post. How do I see them?
There aren’t any, Sandy, I deleted them, pro and con. The dialogue was mostly foolish, mine included. I thought the comment about correct names was outrageous and insensitive to Dah, and I am glad I called the sender out on it, I’d do it again in a flash. But it’s really not worth a second of anyone’s time.
This post was about Dah’s dream for an Etsy page (she wants to call it a workshop for now), comments about that are the only ones I’ll put up there.
To be honest, I’m sick of people who write messages like the one about the correct name of an Etsy shop and never mentioned what this young woman was doing, and weary of people who tell me I’m not nice enough. I’m quite nice to people who are civil and appreciate them very much. And I’m not running for mayor. I’m not looking for love.
Dah is insecure enough about her project, she doesn’t need some peckerhead telling her she’s wrong about the name she wants to use. That’s not the way for her to start, and she does read my blog.
I hope I am never nice to people who are cruel and insensitive, I won’t enable that on my site. Discussions about how I respond to messages seem incestuous to me, very in-house, and of no interest to anyone, especially me. I don’t need to explain how I respond to people.
This pattern has become ritualistic, which is my fault. Someone writes a message I find offensive, and so I respond. Then someone finds my response offensive and suggests I should be nicer. The message itself gets lost in he-said, she-said. My bad. Instead of talking about the piece, we are all talking about me. Yuk. I permitted this by enabling it, now I’ll stop it by deleting it.
It’s taken me too long to grasp that there is no reason to publish comments like this one, it just spins like a wheel in a direction I very much dislike. In the future, I’ll just delete them. Lately, the blog has been setting a strong and positive tone, and so have the comments. I intend to keep it that way and build on it.
I’m not posting any more about this, it distracts from this young woman’s inspiring dream.
Thanks for your response Jon. I appreciate your honesty and totally agree.
Your desire to learn and grow and feel your feelings are inspiring to me. I’m about your age with health issues that have been keeping me from doing much. So your recent writing about aging have helped and inspire me. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Thanks for your Sandy, you seem like a person well worth knowing. I’m working all the time to be positive and tolerant. I’m not there yet. You are a big help.
That made me feel really good. Connecting with another human being is the best. It’s always been one of the most important things in my life. As we get older, and especially over the past two years, it’s been hard to come by. So thanks.