Yesterday was a very long day. My husband and I were traveling home, and had reservations on an 8:29 PM flight. There were a lot of weather disruptions in the US air system from early in the morning, and then additional complications in the system due to the terrorist attack at the airport in Istanbul, Turkey.
Our 8:29 PM flight left the ground at 2:30 this morning. A six hour delay in a flight is always difficult, but when the flight origination time is late already, it makes for a long day. We finally got to our house at about 5:30 this morning, which was 6:30 in the time zone we had woken up in about twenty four hours earlier.
But, in spite of it being a very long day, it was kind of a very good day. I've never quite experienced anything like it before.
There were multiple delayed flights, many of them in the six or more hours of delay. The airport in Newark was very crowded.
What was remarkable to me was how unphased by the inconvenience most everyone was. There was a remarkable level of compassion, of good cheer, of cooperation and kindness evidenced everywhere I looked.
My husband and I had multiple random conversations with strangers, all very positive, even though they all included dismay at the continual cascading delays.
Newark is not noteworthy as a friendly city. In fact, the greater New York metropolitan area has a reputation of being tough and unfriendly. But I saw a remarkable niceness in Newark Liberty International Airport yesterday.
And it restored my faith in people. Because we can roll with inconvenience without hostility. And we can sit together in strange places and find topics of conversation that are not provocative.
My husband and I had a conversation with one stranger about how surprisingly good the food was at one airport restaurant.
We had another conversation with another stranger about the New Orleans Saints football team's prospects for the 2016 season.
We had another conversation with two strangers about their anticipated visit to New Orleans, and different things that they could do while here on vacation.
We had another conversation with a stranger about running and racewalking and testing yourself against your physical limits.
And multiple conversations with multiple strangers sharing air travel horror stories.
And overwhelmingly, people were nice, and friendly and upbeat, even though it was a tremendously inconvenient situation.
I don't know if the horror of the attacks in Turkey made us all appreciate how benign the inconvenience we were experiencing actually was, or if it was just a special crowd on a special day.
With all the media attention on how acrimonious we can be as a society, it was gratifying to see some good old fashioned niceness play out in a very public place.
And if you can have a positive experience in Newark Liberty International Airport in the midst of hundreds of delayed and cancelled flights, you can have a positive experience just about anywhere.
There are still more good, nice, kind people in the world than you think. And yesterday, I was fortunate to be surrounded by them.
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Friday, June 17, 2016
Making special memories
Today's memory is a good one, although I have no idea why it happens to be today's memory.
I had always thought that I would someday have a wonderful portrait of my daughter with my parents. In my imagination, this picture would probably be taken at my daughter's wedding.
My dad died in 2000, and I never got that beautiful portrait of my daughter with my parents, so I decided that I would not wait for an occasion to get a beautiful portrait of my daughter with my mother, Harriet, but instead create the occasion and have the portrait made.
As I was planning this photo session to take place during my Mom's scheduled visit to Louisiana, my husband suggested rather than go to an ordinary photographer, that instead my mom and my daughter and I go to Glamour Shots. So we did.
First, we went shopping for matching sweaters, so that we could wear the same tops. My mom didn't like the crew neck look, so put a shirt with a collar under her sweater.
I had always thought that I would someday have a wonderful portrait of my daughter with my parents. In my imagination, this picture would probably be taken at my daughter's wedding.
My dad died in 2000, and I never got that beautiful portrait of my daughter with my parents, so I decided that I would not wait for an occasion to get a beautiful portrait of my daughter with my mother, Harriet, but instead create the occasion and have the portrait made.
As I was planning this photo session to take place during my Mom's scheduled visit to Louisiana, my husband suggested rather than go to an ordinary photographer, that instead my mom and my daughter and I go to Glamour Shots. So we did.
First, we went shopping for matching sweaters, so that we could wear the same tops. My mom didn't like the crew neck look, so put a shirt with a collar under her sweater.
Then we went to Glamour Shots to get gussied up for the photo shoot. The photographer fell in love with my mom. I paid for a package with forty-two poses. Six of each of us alone, six of Harriet and Melanie, six of me and Melanie, six of me and Harriet, and six of the three of us.
The photographer took at least forty-two poses of Harriet. And he called her Harriet. "Smile for me, Harriet!" "Now tilt your head!" "What a natural you are!" And on and on. She was a little uncomfortable when we got there, and didn't like the way her hair was done, and thought she was wearing far too much makeup. But the more time she spent with that photographer, the bigger and more genuine that smile got.
For that afternoon, Harriet was the star of the show.
I don't know why the photographer was so taken with her. Harriet was a beautiful woman, and a sweet woman, but the photographer treated her far differently than he treated Melanie or me. Maybe it was because they seldom had seventy something year old clients at Glamour Shots. I'll never know. But what I do know is that we made a very special memory that day, and got some amazing photos to remember it by.
And it was the most I remember my Mom laughing since my dad had died. That afternoon in 2001, we were three girls out getting prettied up and having our pictures taken, with one of the girls being flirted with shamelessly by the photographer. And it became a very special memory that holds on through the years.
As we drove home after the session, we were laughing and having a blast. The glow from that afternoon shone a light on the entire visit.
I was able to give a copy of the portrait of Harriet by herself to each of my siblings for Christmas that year. And I have the pictures of each of us, and each pairing and all of us to treasure forever.
Whenever you can, steal time from the ordinary to make special memories. Of all the gifts we can give to those we love, special memories might very well be the most precious. And none of us can ever have too many precious memories.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
In defense of calm and measured dialogue
I can be a fiery speaker. I can get into the rhythm of an old time fire and brimstone preacher, and fall into passionate speeches to make my point. I can get caught up in the moment, and in the emotion of the point I am trying to make, and lose sight of the logical and rational reasons that I feel the way I feel.
While most humans respond positively to passionate speeches, they are more entertainment than agent for change.
All change is hard, and most humans are change resistant. Because change is hard, it often takes a strong emotional motivation to make change. Logical, reasonable arguments often lack the driving force necessary to make people want to accept the pain of change. Because change is also always painful.
Unfortunately, those emotional speeches are often devoid of fact and logic, so that we end up making change based on weak data, or end up not making change based on weak data.
The world shouldn't turn on emotion, but it often does.
I may be misreading things, but it feels to me like the United States is more prey to emotional rather than logical decision making than we have been in generations.
In the immediate aftermath of World War II, the fear of communism led to many emotional decisions and behaviors that almost define my childhood. People really did build bomb shelters in their backyards so that their families could survive a nuclear attack. The idea was that in the event of a nuclear attack, the family would stay underground in the shelter for two weeks, and then gradually return to the surface for two to four hours a day, returning entirely to the surface in three months or so.
Work with me on the logistics of that for a moment. Think of the food and water requirements for two weeks. Think of the human waste that will be produced. Think of the heat that will be generated. People spent real money preparing for a nuclear attack from the communists, building personal and community bomb shelters. We spent real money and lives on a war in Vietnam to control the spread of communism. And none of it logically or reasonably had any impact on communism, or actually provided additional protection or safety for US citizens.
Terrorism, rather than communism, is the threat of modern times that is frequently responded to with emotion rather than logic. Emotional calls for expulsion of entire ethnic and religious groups are heard. Emotional calls for war, for bombing, for wholesale extermination of people are made. There is a need for calm and measured dialogue.
Terrorism, like communism, is a very difficult enemy. Ideologies defy combat rules. At least in the Cold War years, it was easy to paint the Soviet Union and Communist China as our direct enemies. People try in modern times to paint Iran, or Iraq, or Syria as our direct enemies. That defies logic. There are terrorist organizations in those nations, but those same terrorist organizations have cells in the United States and Canada and Great Britain and Germany and France as well.
People want to make terrorism an act of violence committed by people who practice a radicalized form of Islam, people who pledge allegiance to Al Qaeda or ISIS, but terrorism is bigger than that. Terrorism is the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims. And it comes in many forms. And emotional calls for actions that cost lives and money need to be very carefully analyzed for logical and rational reasons they will work.
I suppose it is part of being human to respond more passionately to emotional dialogue. But I think we would all do well to remember that real solutions come from data analysis, and calm and measured debate of the facts.
After the debate, solutions can be proposed and analyzed, and the solutions most likely to create success can be deployed.
But first, we have to all stop responding to the impassioned rhetoric, and start the hard work of data collection, and calm analysis of the data.
Solutions exist to the challenge of terrorism. Until we commit to real analysis and debate, we will be stuck in emotional responses that are not solutions.
While most humans respond positively to passionate speeches, they are more entertainment than agent for change.
All change is hard, and most humans are change resistant. Because change is hard, it often takes a strong emotional motivation to make change. Logical, reasonable arguments often lack the driving force necessary to make people want to accept the pain of change. Because change is also always painful.
Unfortunately, those emotional speeches are often devoid of fact and logic, so that we end up making change based on weak data, or end up not making change based on weak data.
The world shouldn't turn on emotion, but it often does.
I may be misreading things, but it feels to me like the United States is more prey to emotional rather than logical decision making than we have been in generations.
In the immediate aftermath of World War II, the fear of communism led to many emotional decisions and behaviors that almost define my childhood. People really did build bomb shelters in their backyards so that their families could survive a nuclear attack. The idea was that in the event of a nuclear attack, the family would stay underground in the shelter for two weeks, and then gradually return to the surface for two to four hours a day, returning entirely to the surface in three months or so.
Work with me on the logistics of that for a moment. Think of the food and water requirements for two weeks. Think of the human waste that will be produced. Think of the heat that will be generated. People spent real money preparing for a nuclear attack from the communists, building personal and community bomb shelters. We spent real money and lives on a war in Vietnam to control the spread of communism. And none of it logically or reasonably had any impact on communism, or actually provided additional protection or safety for US citizens.
Terrorism, rather than communism, is the threat of modern times that is frequently responded to with emotion rather than logic. Emotional calls for expulsion of entire ethnic and religious groups are heard. Emotional calls for war, for bombing, for wholesale extermination of people are made. There is a need for calm and measured dialogue.
Terrorism, like communism, is a very difficult enemy. Ideologies defy combat rules. At least in the Cold War years, it was easy to paint the Soviet Union and Communist China as our direct enemies. People try in modern times to paint Iran, or Iraq, or Syria as our direct enemies. That defies logic. There are terrorist organizations in those nations, but those same terrorist organizations have cells in the United States and Canada and Great Britain and Germany and France as well.
People want to make terrorism an act of violence committed by people who practice a radicalized form of Islam, people who pledge allegiance to Al Qaeda or ISIS, but terrorism is bigger than that. Terrorism is the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims. And it comes in many forms. And emotional calls for actions that cost lives and money need to be very carefully analyzed for logical and rational reasons they will work.
I suppose it is part of being human to respond more passionately to emotional dialogue. But I think we would all do well to remember that real solutions come from data analysis, and calm and measured debate of the facts.
After the debate, solutions can be proposed and analyzed, and the solutions most likely to create success can be deployed.
But first, we have to all stop responding to the impassioned rhetoric, and start the hard work of data collection, and calm analysis of the data.
Solutions exist to the challenge of terrorism. Until we commit to real analysis and debate, we will be stuck in emotional responses that are not solutions.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Lessons my parents taught me
Yesterday was my mom, Harriet's birthday. She was eighty-nine years old. As my regular readers know, Mom suffers from brain damage from a stroke, Alzheimer's type dementia, and ordinary dementia. We don't know from one visit to the next how much cognizance she will have, and often, it is little to none.
But inside that body, is a heart that loved. And loved. And loved.
My dad died on January 14, 2000. My cousin Chris gave the eulogy. He talked about how Dad mentored him to be involved in his community. To give time and energy to causes he believed in and supported. To spend time making the world a better place. And Chris also talked about how my mom and dad were living examples of my Dad's life philosophy to make a better world.
My parents believed in being the good they wanted to see in the world. They volunteered. Our home was a sanctuary for any of our friends who needed to be in a place where they were accepted. My parents tried hard to see the good in everyone. They donated blood. They worked at countless spaghetti dinners and pancake breakfasts to raise money for someone or some group in need.
Every time something tragic happens, the Fred Rogers quote surfaces again, that his mother told him when bad things happen, look for the helpers, that there are always more helpers. My mom and dad were always the helpers.
I want to live up to their legacy. I want to be the good I want to see in the world. I'm sure at times they got discouraged too. After all, they were parents of young children when John F. Kennedy was assassinated. And they were on the cusp of turning forty when Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated. They lived through the heartache of World War II, and the divided nation that existed over the Vietnam conflict. The tremendous civil rights struggles of the 1950's and 1960's. Yet they carried on. Seeing the good and being the good.
It can be easy to look at the problems of today, the divisions in our country over race, and religion, and gender assignment, and sexual preference, and gun ownership; and think it is hopeless.
I remember the lessons my parents taught me. That the only way to make it better is to keep on keeping on to make it better. And there were many dark times in their lives when it would have been easy to fall prey to hopelessness, to stop trying to make it better, to stop trying to find common ground, to stop trying to create an oasis of kindness and goodness in their home. They never stopped making it better.
I owe my parents to live up to the lessons they taught me, and to keep trying to make the world better. To steadily pursue a course that accepts each of God's children exactly the way He made them, that provides sanctuary for the hurting and unwanted, to work on behalf of those needing my help, to be a voice for peace and love and decency.
My parents taught me to never give up on making the world the best it can be. I learned that lesson, and I will never give up.
But inside that body, is a heart that loved. And loved. And loved.
My dad died on January 14, 2000. My cousin Chris gave the eulogy. He talked about how Dad mentored him to be involved in his community. To give time and energy to causes he believed in and supported. To spend time making the world a better place. And Chris also talked about how my mom and dad were living examples of my Dad's life philosophy to make a better world.
My parents believed in being the good they wanted to see in the world. They volunteered. Our home was a sanctuary for any of our friends who needed to be in a place where they were accepted. My parents tried hard to see the good in everyone. They donated blood. They worked at countless spaghetti dinners and pancake breakfasts to raise money for someone or some group in need.
Every time something tragic happens, the Fred Rogers quote surfaces again, that his mother told him when bad things happen, look for the helpers, that there are always more helpers. My mom and dad were always the helpers.
I want to live up to their legacy. I want to be the good I want to see in the world. I'm sure at times they got discouraged too. After all, they were parents of young children when John F. Kennedy was assassinated. And they were on the cusp of turning forty when Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated. They lived through the heartache of World War II, and the divided nation that existed over the Vietnam conflict. The tremendous civil rights struggles of the 1950's and 1960's. Yet they carried on. Seeing the good and being the good.
It can be easy to look at the problems of today, the divisions in our country over race, and religion, and gender assignment, and sexual preference, and gun ownership; and think it is hopeless.
I remember the lessons my parents taught me. That the only way to make it better is to keep on keeping on to make it better. And there were many dark times in their lives when it would have been easy to fall prey to hopelessness, to stop trying to make it better, to stop trying to find common ground, to stop trying to create an oasis of kindness and goodness in their home. They never stopped making it better.
I owe my parents to live up to the lessons they taught me, and to keep trying to make the world better. To steadily pursue a course that accepts each of God's children exactly the way He made them, that provides sanctuary for the hurting and unwanted, to work on behalf of those needing my help, to be a voice for peace and love and decency.
My parents taught me to never give up on making the world the best it can be. I learned that lesson, and I will never give up.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Assault Weapons Ban
This data was compiled from Mother Jones' Guide to Mass Shootings in America. Mother Jones research has focused on seemingly indiscriminate rampages in public places resulting in three or more victims killed. I've heard often that the assault weapons ban had no impact on public safety. I'll post the numbers and you can decide for yourself.
| SUM of Fatalities | SUM of Wounded | SUM of Total victims | Sum of Fatalities prior to Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Wounded Prior to Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Total Victims Prior to Assault Weapons Ban | 12 years | ||
| 1982 | 8 | 3 | 11 | Prior | 161 | 185 | 346 | |
| 1984 | 28 | 20 | 48 | Prior | ||||
| 1986 | 15 | 6 | 21 | Prior | ||||
| 1987 | 6 | 14 | 20 | Prior | ||||
| 1988 | 7 | 4 | 11 | Prior | ||||
| 1989 | 15 | 41 | 56 | Prior | ||||
| 1990 | 10 | 4 | 14 | Prior | ||||
| 1991 | 35 | 26 | 61 | Prior | ||||
| 1992 | 9 | 10 | 19 | Prior | ||||
| 1993 | 23 | 34 | 57 | Prior | ||||
| 1994 | 5 | 23 | 28 | Enacted September 13, 1994 | Sum of Fatalities during Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Wounded during Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Total Victims during Assault Weapons Ban | 10 years |
| 1995 | 6 | 0 | 6 | During | 101 | 108 | 209 | |
| 1996 | 6 | 1 | 7 | During | ||||
| 1997 | 9 | 5 | 14 | During | ||||
| 1998 | 14 | 36 | 50 | During | ||||
| 1999 | 42 | 47 | 89 | During | ||||
| 2000 | 7 | 0 | 7 | During | ||||
| 2001 | 5 | 4 | 9 | During | ||||
| 2003 | 7 | 8 | 15 | During | ||||
| 2004 | 5 | 7 | 12 | Expired September 13, 2004 | Sum of Fatalities since expiration of Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Wounded since expiration of Assault Weapons Ban | Sum of Total Victims since expiration of Assault Weapons Ban | 12 years |
| 2005 | 17 | 9 | 26 | After | 406 | 354 | 760 | |
| 2006 | 21 | 7 | 28 | After | ||||
| 2007 | 54 | 32 | 86 | After | ||||
| 2008 | 18 | 24 | 42 | After | ||||
| 2009 | 39 | 38 | 77 | After | ||||
| 2010 | 9 | 2 | 11 | After | ||||
| 2011 | 19 | 21 | 40 | After | ||||
| 2012 | 72 | 68 | 140 | After | ||||
| 2013 | 35 | 13 | 48 | After | ||||
| 2014 | 18 | 28 | 46 | After | ||||
| 2015 | 46 | 43 | 89 | After | ||||
| 2016 | 58 | 69 | 127 | After | ||||
| Grand Total | 668 | 647 | 1315 |
I'm not going to assert that a one variable equation is the only difference in these numbers. I'm not going to pretend that there are not deeper societal problems that contribute. But when I just look at the numbers, I think an assault weapon ban can only be viewed as a step in the right direction.
When one group (gun owners) has the power to force their will on the entire nation with this kind of data indicating a real threat to public safety, something is significantly out of balance.
Look at the data. Here is a link to the full data set: Mother Jones Mass Shootings Database
If the data moves you as it does me, contact your senators and congressman. Silence is acceptance.
And for me, this is unacceptable.
Monday, June 13, 2016
Too much sadness
Once again, I sit at my keyboard searching for words to convey my horror, and sorrow, and outrage. The deadliest mass shooting in US history. Forty-nine dead, fifty-three wounded. Over one hundred lives directly impacted, thousands when you think of their families, and millions when you think about the LGBTQ community.
Yesterday, I was angry. And I know that anger is not the answer. Today, I'm sad. But I'm also determined.
I'm determined to not hate. I'm determined to not paint any group of people based on the actions of an individual. I'm determined to be a force for love, compassion and human kindness in the world.
I'm also determined to keep writing my senators, my congressman, and the president to do something about guns in America. I supported the assault weapon ban (The Brady Bill) that went into effect after President Reagan was shot. I wrote my senators and congressman and the president when the ban was about to expire, pleading that it be kept in place. I still do, and always will think that assault weapons and high capacity ammunition magazines have no place in a civilized society.
I don't care if people have guns to hunt. I don't care if they have guns for target practice, or skeet shooting. I don't even care if people have guns because they feel the need for protection.
But there are weapons that are only killing machines. In my world, they shouldn't even exist, much less be in anyone's hand that can afford to buy one.
Yes, there will always be broken people who want to do great harm to others. Make them work for it. An automatic weapon is a fast and easy path to incredible carnage.
I know this is more of a hate and anger problem than a gun problem, because people who would never harm another living creature could be surrounded by guns and ammunition, and never pick one up and do harm. But until we have been working on diminishing the hate and anger in the world for a couple of successive generations, let's take the high powered weaponry off the streets.
And let's all do our part to eliminate the hate and anger. There is always something to be angry about if that is what you focus on. But there is always something to be thankful for as well. Try as hard as you can to focus on the good in your world. On the good in other people.
There is no place for hate. It is perfectly fine to limit your exposure to people who are hateful, and who promote hate.
Promote love. Promote forgiveness. Promote inclusion. I always have and always will believe that there are more people in the world who love than hate, more who want peace then want war. Let us not be silent. Let us stand up for love and forgiveness and inclusion. And maybe someday we will be able to say how happy we are that the last mass shooting in America was more than ten, or twenty, or fifty years ago.
Yesterday, I was angry. And I know that anger is not the answer. Today, I'm sad. But I'm also determined.
I'm determined to not hate. I'm determined to not paint any group of people based on the actions of an individual. I'm determined to be a force for love, compassion and human kindness in the world.
I'm also determined to keep writing my senators, my congressman, and the president to do something about guns in America. I supported the assault weapon ban (The Brady Bill) that went into effect after President Reagan was shot. I wrote my senators and congressman and the president when the ban was about to expire, pleading that it be kept in place. I still do, and always will think that assault weapons and high capacity ammunition magazines have no place in a civilized society.
I don't care if people have guns to hunt. I don't care if they have guns for target practice, or skeet shooting. I don't even care if people have guns because they feel the need for protection.
But there are weapons that are only killing machines. In my world, they shouldn't even exist, much less be in anyone's hand that can afford to buy one.
Yes, there will always be broken people who want to do great harm to others. Make them work for it. An automatic weapon is a fast and easy path to incredible carnage.
I know this is more of a hate and anger problem than a gun problem, because people who would never harm another living creature could be surrounded by guns and ammunition, and never pick one up and do harm. But until we have been working on diminishing the hate and anger in the world for a couple of successive generations, let's take the high powered weaponry off the streets.
And let's all do our part to eliminate the hate and anger. There is always something to be angry about if that is what you focus on. But there is always something to be thankful for as well. Try as hard as you can to focus on the good in your world. On the good in other people.
There is no place for hate. It is perfectly fine to limit your exposure to people who are hateful, and who promote hate.
Promote love. Promote forgiveness. Promote inclusion. I always have and always will believe that there are more people in the world who love than hate, more who want peace then want war. Let us not be silent. Let us stand up for love and forgiveness and inclusion. And maybe someday we will be able to say how happy we are that the last mass shooting in America was more than ten, or twenty, or fifty years ago.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Gender based/gender biased thinking
I grew up in a world full of gender bias, even though I didn't know it. Because I liked to play outside and be physically active, I was labeled a "tomboy". That was fine with me at the time, but the older I get, the more sensitized I have become to how much we limit ourselves and others with gender-based/gender-biased labeling.
And as I share these thoughts, I can't help but think about the non-conforming to gender bias role models I had growing up. My Aunt Genny was a rock star carpenter and woodworker. My Dad was a great cook, and the nurturing parent in our household, Mom was the disciplinarian. My Grandmother, Sophie, was "Rosie the Riveter" working as a drill press and punch press operator in a munitions factory during World War II.
My Aunt Dot was a great athlete, excelling at softball and basketball, and my Uncle Bill was a master tailor (he could sew and alter clothes like no other).
In spite of this, I still grew up using, and occasionally still use language that is just down right intellectually lazy when trying to describe things. Why do we say things like "Man Up" when we actually mean "display the courage to do the right thing"? Why do we use expressions like "girly-girl" or "manly-man"?
The English language has so many words to choose from, it would seem that we could deploy the language better and more accurately. Why not "She really enjoys dressing up with lots of frills and bows", or "He really enjoys strength sports, like weightlifting", instead of silly labels.
I realize labels are easy. But they are also limiting. And they can be downright insulting.
Yes, I liked physical play and high activity as a child, and still do. I also liked to get dressed up, and still do. I also liked to cook and crochet and still do. I can cry at the opening credits of a sad movie, or be the incredibly stoic individual that holds up the family in a crisis. I am not defined by my gender. I am a complex person who has a variety of interests. And in all probability, so are you.
So few of us embody a gender archetype, it seems ridiculous that we are still hanging on to them. Strength and stoicism are not masculine. Tenderness and nurturing are not feminine. When we let go of those artificial relationships, we are enabled to allow people to fully express who they are without fear of rejection for non-conformance to stereotype.
We're all humans with multiple characteristics, with likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. Let's all try to use the English language kindly and accurately to describe what we like and don't like, what characteristics we want to possess, and those we want to rid ourselves of.
Labels limit. Honest conversations make us free. Free from stereotypes, free from unfounded expectations, free from preconceived notions based on appearance.
There are so many amazing, wonderful, complex individuals in my world that defy convention and labeling. I cherish them. And because of them, I will try to do better to use language purposefully and kindly to allow all the wonderful variations in humans to be celebrated and appreciated.
And as I share these thoughts, I can't help but think about the non-conforming to gender bias role models I had growing up. My Aunt Genny was a rock star carpenter and woodworker. My Dad was a great cook, and the nurturing parent in our household, Mom was the disciplinarian. My Grandmother, Sophie, was "Rosie the Riveter" working as a drill press and punch press operator in a munitions factory during World War II.
My Aunt Dot was a great athlete, excelling at softball and basketball, and my Uncle Bill was a master tailor (he could sew and alter clothes like no other).
In spite of this, I still grew up using, and occasionally still use language that is just down right intellectually lazy when trying to describe things. Why do we say things like "Man Up" when we actually mean "display the courage to do the right thing"? Why do we use expressions like "girly-girl" or "manly-man"?
The English language has so many words to choose from, it would seem that we could deploy the language better and more accurately. Why not "She really enjoys dressing up with lots of frills and bows", or "He really enjoys strength sports, like weightlifting", instead of silly labels.
I realize labels are easy. But they are also limiting. And they can be downright insulting.
Yes, I liked physical play and high activity as a child, and still do. I also liked to get dressed up, and still do. I also liked to cook and crochet and still do. I can cry at the opening credits of a sad movie, or be the incredibly stoic individual that holds up the family in a crisis. I am not defined by my gender. I am a complex person who has a variety of interests. And in all probability, so are you.
So few of us embody a gender archetype, it seems ridiculous that we are still hanging on to them. Strength and stoicism are not masculine. Tenderness and nurturing are not feminine. When we let go of those artificial relationships, we are enabled to allow people to fully express who they are without fear of rejection for non-conformance to stereotype.
We're all humans with multiple characteristics, with likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. Let's all try to use the English language kindly and accurately to describe what we like and don't like, what characteristics we want to possess, and those we want to rid ourselves of.
Labels limit. Honest conversations make us free. Free from stereotypes, free from unfounded expectations, free from preconceived notions based on appearance.
There are so many amazing, wonderful, complex individuals in my world that defy convention and labeling. I cherish them. And because of them, I will try to do better to use language purposefully and kindly to allow all the wonderful variations in humans to be celebrated and appreciated.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
High Anxiety
I think that I have shared before that I have a fear of bridges. It all started when a span in a bridge near my home failed when I was six years old. All bridges have been suspect since that time.
Add in that there have been numerous recent engineering studies that confirm the state of the bridges in America is deplorable, and my fear shows absolutely no sign of receding.
Living in Southeast Louisiana, you can't really go very far without crossing a bridge of some sort, even if it is only a bridge over a canal. What's a girl to do? Find the bridges where the fear can be managed.
There is one particular bridge that I'm very comfortable with, and that is the Hale Boggs bridge which crosses the Mississippi River between Luling and Destrehan, on Interstate 310. This bridge has a couple of things going for it. It is relatively new, it opened in 1983. It is really pretty. And I had to cross it almost every work day for twenty years. And I have run or walked across it at least fifteen times. And I've watched how well it is maintained and repaired since 1986.
So, the combination of familiarity, aesthetics, and necessity have made it relatively easy for me to cross the Hale Boggs Bridge. As mentioned earlier, knowing how well the bridge is maintained contributes to my comfort, but it also presented a problem today.
You see, the bridge has been undergoing major structural repairs for the past four months or so. They have closed one side of the bridge at a time to allow for the repairs. This has resulted in very narrow lanes, no shoulder, and only one lane on the southbound side.
The idea of driving in that one lane with no shoulder and no exit was too much for my bridge anxiety, so I tried a different bridge. That didn't turn out to be a good idea.
The Veterans Memorial Bridge crosses the Mississippi River at Gramercy in St. James Parish with St. John the Baptist Parish. It is a very high bridge as all Mississippi River bridges must be, and it has a very steep approach and descent. That steep approach and descent were my undoing. By the time I got to the top of the bridge, I thought I was going to pass out from the fear. I was so glad to get back on the ground on the other side. But I knew I couldn't face crossing that bridge again, and I had to get home. So I went with the familiar Hale Boggs Bridge, even though there was construction and narrow lanes.
What is the point of sharing all this? We are all subject to fears and anxieties, and we can't always control those. They may have a rational basis, or they may be completely irrational. But we have to find coping strategies. We have to find a way to complete the life tasks that must be completed.
It can be very isolating to deal with your fear and anxiety. Try to remember that there are many of us struggling with our fear and anxiety, and you are not alone. Reach out to others. Talk about your fears. Share your anxieties.
It won't make them go away, but the next time you drive an extra fifteen or twenty minutes to cross the bridge that doesn't scare you so much, you will know who you can call who will understand.
The easiest things in life can be hard for some of us. Opening up to others so that they can share their hardships can lighten the load for both of you.
I was able to share with a friend how difficult it had been for me to cross that bridge, and I found out that she too has a fear of bridges. We were able to share coping strategies, and she gave me a great tip for how to navigate the construction on the Hale Boggs Bridge.
Once again, admitting my imperfections allowed a friend to help me cope with them.
Have courage, my friends. There are a world full of people who will help you if you only give them the chance.
Add in that there have been numerous recent engineering studies that confirm the state of the bridges in America is deplorable, and my fear shows absolutely no sign of receding.
Living in Southeast Louisiana, you can't really go very far without crossing a bridge of some sort, even if it is only a bridge over a canal. What's a girl to do? Find the bridges where the fear can be managed.
There is one particular bridge that I'm very comfortable with, and that is the Hale Boggs bridge which crosses the Mississippi River between Luling and Destrehan, on Interstate 310. This bridge has a couple of things going for it. It is relatively new, it opened in 1983. It is really pretty. And I had to cross it almost every work day for twenty years. And I have run or walked across it at least fifteen times. And I've watched how well it is maintained and repaired since 1986.
So, the combination of familiarity, aesthetics, and necessity have made it relatively easy for me to cross the Hale Boggs Bridge. As mentioned earlier, knowing how well the bridge is maintained contributes to my comfort, but it also presented a problem today.
You see, the bridge has been undergoing major structural repairs for the past four months or so. They have closed one side of the bridge at a time to allow for the repairs. This has resulted in very narrow lanes, no shoulder, and only one lane on the southbound side.
The idea of driving in that one lane with no shoulder and no exit was too much for my bridge anxiety, so I tried a different bridge. That didn't turn out to be a good idea.
The Veterans Memorial Bridge crosses the Mississippi River at Gramercy in St. James Parish with St. John the Baptist Parish. It is a very high bridge as all Mississippi River bridges must be, and it has a very steep approach and descent. That steep approach and descent were my undoing. By the time I got to the top of the bridge, I thought I was going to pass out from the fear. I was so glad to get back on the ground on the other side. But I knew I couldn't face crossing that bridge again, and I had to get home. So I went with the familiar Hale Boggs Bridge, even though there was construction and narrow lanes.
What is the point of sharing all this? We are all subject to fears and anxieties, and we can't always control those. They may have a rational basis, or they may be completely irrational. But we have to find coping strategies. We have to find a way to complete the life tasks that must be completed.
It can be very isolating to deal with your fear and anxiety. Try to remember that there are many of us struggling with our fear and anxiety, and you are not alone. Reach out to others. Talk about your fears. Share your anxieties.
It won't make them go away, but the next time you drive an extra fifteen or twenty minutes to cross the bridge that doesn't scare you so much, you will know who you can call who will understand.
The easiest things in life can be hard for some of us. Opening up to others so that they can share their hardships can lighten the load for both of you.
I was able to share with a friend how difficult it had been for me to cross that bridge, and I found out that she too has a fear of bridges. We were able to share coping strategies, and she gave me a great tip for how to navigate the construction on the Hale Boggs Bridge.
Once again, admitting my imperfections allowed a friend to help me cope with them.
Have courage, my friends. There are a world full of people who will help you if you only give them the chance.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Life Eraser
I have always been astounded by the people I know that appear to have been given a life eraser at birth. I'm sure you know one of these people. They do all sorts of things that most of us would never do, and then they take out their life eraser, reinvent themselves, and go on as if they had never done those things.
People of all walks of life seem to have life erasers. And they don't just work on your own life, you can erase history with them too. Don't like the fact that institutional racism exists? Erase it! Don't like the fact that women earn less than men in the same job? Erase it!
It seems to be a politician, you have to have a life eraser. How many politicians have been caught using their life eraser by the existence of video evidence?
I've always or never been a supporter of "x". Then out comes the video. That video evidence can really mess with your life eraser.
But ordinary people have them too.
Just about every wild child who becomes a parent immediately takes out their life eraser. "I never cut classes." "I never talked back to my parents." "I never came in after curfew." "I never smoked pot." "I never drank and drove a car." The list goes on and on.
I had my child so young there was no opportunity for a life eraser in many cases, because my daughter was witness to the sorts of things most people use their life eraser for. And children have good memories. And they share information without filters. So, the embarrassing moments become public very quickly.
People use life erasers at work too. Gossip behind a peer's back and try to sabotage their work, peer gets promoted. Out comes the life eraser. "I've always been in your corner, telling people how great you are."
What compels people to resort to the life eraser rather than just admit they have been a screw up in the past? Why is it so uncomfortable to tell people that you were unkind to them, even if they didn't know it, and apologize? Why do we want our mistakes and embarrassments to disappear, instead of sharing them to open up our humanity and vulnerability? Is being human so scary that sanitizing our lives feels like a safer course?
Real relationships demand sharing real emotions and life experiences. If we want to enjoy the comfort of deep and lasting relationships, we have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Our mistakes, our embarrassments, our inappropriate behaviors are all outward signs of our vulnerability. Letting our true selves be seen in all of their imperfection gives others the permission to be imperfect as well.
A life eraser may make things more comfortable in the short term, but a life acknowledged, with all its brokenness, mistakes and heartache, is a life that is open for sharing.
I may have moments where I wish I had a life eraser to remove some of the many less than who I want to be moments my life has contained. But without those moments, I may have missed some valuable lessons. I might be less compassionate. I might be more certain that I am better than someone else.
But because I don't have a life eraser, I know I am just one more flawed and broken human being, trying my best to do my best, and to atone for the times in my past when I was not who I want to be.
And that makes me wide open to you in all of your brokenness.
And I wouldn't trade that for all the life erasers in the world.
People of all walks of life seem to have life erasers. And they don't just work on your own life, you can erase history with them too. Don't like the fact that institutional racism exists? Erase it! Don't like the fact that women earn less than men in the same job? Erase it!
It seems to be a politician, you have to have a life eraser. How many politicians have been caught using their life eraser by the existence of video evidence?
I've always or never been a supporter of "x". Then out comes the video. That video evidence can really mess with your life eraser.
But ordinary people have them too.
Just about every wild child who becomes a parent immediately takes out their life eraser. "I never cut classes." "I never talked back to my parents." "I never came in after curfew." "I never smoked pot." "I never drank and drove a car." The list goes on and on.
I had my child so young there was no opportunity for a life eraser in many cases, because my daughter was witness to the sorts of things most people use their life eraser for. And children have good memories. And they share information without filters. So, the embarrassing moments become public very quickly.
People use life erasers at work too. Gossip behind a peer's back and try to sabotage their work, peer gets promoted. Out comes the life eraser. "I've always been in your corner, telling people how great you are."
What compels people to resort to the life eraser rather than just admit they have been a screw up in the past? Why is it so uncomfortable to tell people that you were unkind to them, even if they didn't know it, and apologize? Why do we want our mistakes and embarrassments to disappear, instead of sharing them to open up our humanity and vulnerability? Is being human so scary that sanitizing our lives feels like a safer course?
Real relationships demand sharing real emotions and life experiences. If we want to enjoy the comfort of deep and lasting relationships, we have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Our mistakes, our embarrassments, our inappropriate behaviors are all outward signs of our vulnerability. Letting our true selves be seen in all of their imperfection gives others the permission to be imperfect as well.
A life eraser may make things more comfortable in the short term, but a life acknowledged, with all its brokenness, mistakes and heartache, is a life that is open for sharing.
I may have moments where I wish I had a life eraser to remove some of the many less than who I want to be moments my life has contained. But without those moments, I may have missed some valuable lessons. I might be less compassionate. I might be more certain that I am better than someone else.
But because I don't have a life eraser, I know I am just one more flawed and broken human being, trying my best to do my best, and to atone for the times in my past when I was not who I want to be.
And that makes me wide open to you in all of your brokenness.
And I wouldn't trade that for all the life erasers in the world.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Choosing Love
I'm sad today, my daughter and son-in-law had to say goodbye to one of their cats at four o'clock this morning. Mouse was around fifteen, I know she was born in June 2001, but I'm not sure which day.
Fifteen years is the average lifespan of a domesticated cat, which is longer than the average lifespan of many dog breeds. But it is a very short time, in terms of human lifespan.
When we choose pet ownership, we choose grief. Because we know we will say goodbye to many pets over the course of one natural human lifetime. But more than choosing grief, we choose love.
Pets are for me, the single most dependable source of unconditional love we ever get. No matter what kind of day you have, no matter how much the world sucks, your pets love you.
And they give us a place to put our love. I believe there is a great need for connection that is part of being human. It can be very difficult to connect with other humans for a variety of reasons, but many people who cannot connect well with humans can connect very well with a dog or a cat.
My connections to the animals who have shared my life is deep and abiding. I miss all the dogs and cats I loved who are no longer sharing this plane of existence. Each one was special. Each one had a distinct personality. Each one allowed me to love unconditionally, and loved me back in the same way.
I have known many people who have lost an animal that they loved very much, and who decided to never open their hearts to another animal, so as to avoid that pain and grief.
I fall in the other category. The person that can't imagine my life without a pet. I don't know that I can survive without the love.
I believe that energy is never destroyed. Because I believe that, I believe that the energy that is the essence of humans and the animals we love is never destroyed. I believe that energy is always with us. And I feel that energy at times. I feel the comfort of the love from people and pets who have passed on to another plane of existence.
That doesn't mean I'm not sad when a person or pet I love leaves this plane. It doesn't mean I don't grieve. It doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain of separation.
It just means that I never feel like that person or pet is truly lost to me. I can find them in my memories. I can find them in my dreams. And I can feel their energy in the universe.
So, I will keep choosing love. More people, more pets, more love. I know that I am also choosing grief and pain. But for me, it is always worth it.
Fifteen years is the average lifespan of a domesticated cat, which is longer than the average lifespan of many dog breeds. But it is a very short time, in terms of human lifespan.
When we choose pet ownership, we choose grief. Because we know we will say goodbye to many pets over the course of one natural human lifetime. But more than choosing grief, we choose love.
Pets are for me, the single most dependable source of unconditional love we ever get. No matter what kind of day you have, no matter how much the world sucks, your pets love you.
And they give us a place to put our love. I believe there is a great need for connection that is part of being human. It can be very difficult to connect with other humans for a variety of reasons, but many people who cannot connect well with humans can connect very well with a dog or a cat.
My connections to the animals who have shared my life is deep and abiding. I miss all the dogs and cats I loved who are no longer sharing this plane of existence. Each one was special. Each one had a distinct personality. Each one allowed me to love unconditionally, and loved me back in the same way.
I have known many people who have lost an animal that they loved very much, and who decided to never open their hearts to another animal, so as to avoid that pain and grief.
I fall in the other category. The person that can't imagine my life without a pet. I don't know that I can survive without the love.
I believe that energy is never destroyed. Because I believe that, I believe that the energy that is the essence of humans and the animals we love is never destroyed. I believe that energy is always with us. And I feel that energy at times. I feel the comfort of the love from people and pets who have passed on to another plane of existence.
That doesn't mean I'm not sad when a person or pet I love leaves this plane. It doesn't mean I don't grieve. It doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain of separation.
It just means that I never feel like that person or pet is truly lost to me. I can find them in my memories. I can find them in my dreams. And I can feel their energy in the universe.
So, I will keep choosing love. More people, more pets, more love. I know that I am also choosing grief and pain. But for me, it is always worth it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)