MSI Press Blog

  Lizzie’s academic efforts had always met with success. She started reading at two, and everything accelerated from there. By the time she reached elementary school, the teachers had no idea what to do with her except move her along. She skipped second grade. Then seventh. It was the only tool the schools had in those days—and perhaps even today—for a child who learned faster than the system could teach. Then came eighth grade. Or rather, it would have come, had she stayed in Arlington, Virginia. Instead, just as the school year began, twelve‑year‑old Lizzie boarded a plane with me for a months‑long research trip to Russia and Siberia. In Moscow she attended School No. 77, the school for the MosFilm studio kids—children who had grown up around directors, cameras, and expectations. They were bright, worldly, unimpressed by an American girl who read at college level. Lizzie, who had always been the standout, was suddenly just one more capable student in a room full of them. Then...

  Although I have only visited a couple of times, it feels as if I have been there much more often. There is a comfort in Austria for me—I speak the language, and I grew up in the mountains, though nothing quite like die Alpen . Austria is a country of soaring peaks, shimmering lakes, and villages that look as though they were painted into existence. Life had a commonsense approach, one that allowed time for people to actually "live" and enjoy their time--Volksmarch on a daily basis; time for casual meetings of friends a small cafes for apfelstrudel and bier [beer], or my favorite, Johannisbeere [black current juice]; and an evening at a concert hall for heavenly music.    My connection to Austria is not only through its language and mountains, but through friendship. Johanna—a name I use here since she prefers not to be identified—has been my anchor there. I stayed with her during visits, and she once came to the USA, where we scooted down into Mexico for a day. 👭 The ...

  Note to the Reader I grew up barefoot and suntanned on a farm in rural Acton, Maine. Now, basking in the sunshine of San Juan Bautista, California, 3,000 miles from those roots and 75 years beyond my time in New England, I find no singular thread defining my life. No grand design guided my path—only the constant pull of urgent voices asking, Can you come help us? And so, I went. I packed my bags, boarded planes, crossed borders, and stepped into roles I had never planned but never hesitated to fill. Unlike those who chase opportunity, I responded to it. I taught teachers in Brazil, rescued a dying child in Siberia, brokered school exchanges between Minsk (Belarus) and Portland (Oregon, USA), trained astronauts and cosmonauts in Houston (USA) and in Star City (Russia). I set up university translation programs in Moldova, guided Turkmen diplomats, advised Uzbekistan’s Ministry of Social Justice. Each place offered a distinct challenge, and I shaped myself around its needs, learn...

  Shenan (CB) Leaver's book, Mommy Poisoned Our House Guest, was translated into Russia and published in Russia, with excerpts in the Socionics Journal . For those who can read Russian, hear is some fun reading!! Мама отравила нашего гостя! (фрагменты из книги) Авторы: Си Би ЛИВЕР и Бетти Лу ЛИВЕР В своей книге Си Би Ливер, один из семи детей Бетти Ливер, решил рассказать о своей Маме, которая помогла ему с редактированием текста. К сожалению, хорошей фотографии Си Би не нашлось, поэтому помещаем только фотографию героини книги. Соционический тип: как нам кажется, хорошо виден из текста Эл. адреса: CBLeaver @ aol . com и Leaver @ aol . com Хаос на кухне. Моя Мама – очень хорошая Мама, но очень плохой повар. Однажды моей сестрёнке понадобилось принести на праздник девочек-скаутов "дьявольские яйца" (обычно их фаршируют майонезом и сладким красным перцем, но Мама, вид...