Category Archives: Uncategorized
There’s Going to Be Trouble When You Live in a Bubble
Keeping an eye on politics this week has been as compelling as anything the best Hollywood writers could make up. Mitt Romney, the front-runner for the Republican nomination for President of the United States, actually said that he cares about Americans but that he isn’t concerned about the very poor because they have a safety net.
That’s precisely what he said. In that exact order. What happened next, while predictable, was still extremely entertaining.
Some political pundits latched onto the concept that Romney didn’t care about the poor and (gasp) he didn’t even consider them Americans.
Others suggested that he was supporting the notion that government should help the poor indefinitely without encouraging them improve their situations.
And others, particularly those in the Republican party, despaired that Romney is a bad politician who blunders when he doesn’t have a teleprompter.
I have to agree with the latter. When Romney opens his mouth without a script, his comments seem unsympathetic to the average American. His latest remarks about the poor just add to the growing concern.
The doubts have been building with every questionable statement: his spontaneous offer to bet Rick Perry $10,000 (a very sizable amount of money to the average American); his remark that he is also unemployed (not funny to the millions without a job or a daily income like he has) and his insensitive language about liking to fire people. All of these feed into the perception that Romney has no clue about the daily struggles many Americans face.
And there may be something to that. He has, after all, lived in a bubble his entire life.
He grew up in a bubble and doesn’t appear to have left it. That bubble has protected him from worrying about which bills he could afford to pay or whether his children would be able to go to college. I’m pretty sure that there’s never been any coupon clipping, layaways or bargain hunting in the Romney bubble.
But apparently the barrier between Romney’s bubble and the rest of the world isn’t impenetrable. Rumblings of discontent about the disparity between the very rich and the rest of the country actually seem to be reaching Romney’s ears. But the layers of film between us are distorting the message, and he just isn’t hearing it correctly.
But Romney’s not alone.
Because of religion, socio-economic status and even our appearances, many of us live in a bubble and generally associate with, relate to and hear the opinions of people who are very similar to us. And while some people step outside of their bubbles, others never do.
The problem with staying in your own bubble is that you generally don’t hear or understand the plight of those outside the bubble. I’ve bumped into a lot of those people as they float through life. It’s not that people who stay in their own bubbles are bad people. Bubbles simply distort how they see things, so their view of the world just isn’t accurate.
But who can blame them? Living in a bubble can be deceptively comfortable.
Unfortunately, people who are floating around in their own bubbles are still part of the real world: a world where poverty is not a moral issue, where people still face discrimination and where money is a driving force in determining who has power.
If you are floating around in a bubble, your hands may never get dirty, your heart may never fully empathize and your head may never understand.
And that’s the problem with Mitt Romney. It’s hard to understand something you’ve never felt or experienced. And it’s even worse if you don’t recognize the fact that you’re living in a bubble.
On the bright side, most everyone likes watching bubbles float away and eventually pop. Even as a child, I found the sight highly entertaining. I’m pretty sure I still do.
Paving the Way to a Better Educated America
I’m beginning to think that our country is like a complex highway system that is riddled with potholes.
Very intelligent people designed the system. It has served a great purpose, and a lot of people are better off because of it.
Unfortunately, the potholes are getting bigger, and the damage they’re causing is far reaching.
To address the pothole problems, Americans keep patching them one at a time. It’s not effective and is generally a temporary solution. The potholes might disappear for a while, but the patches usually break up and the potholes get even bigger.
To really address the pothole problem, whole sections of the highway need an overhaul.
But overhauls require significant changes and shifts in how we think. That’s something a lot of people, particularly those who have easy access to planes and who don’t even experience potholes, do their best to avoid.
I’m not one of those people, and I’m tired of dealing with the potholes in politics, social services and education. Especially education.
All you have to do is look at America’s dismal statistics to realize that our education system is not helping those children who need it the most.
Nearly 1 million kids who start high school every year in the United States don’t make it to graduation. The dropout rate of students living in low-income families is about four and one-half times greater than the rate of their peers from high-income families (http://nces.ed.gov/pubs2011/dropout08/findings1.asp). The problem is cyclical: parents with limited education often had poor experiences in school and are less likely to emphasize its importance.
For years, community activists, business leaders and education experts have been discussing the problem and trying to develop solutions. millions of dollars have gone into innovative programs. Some communities have decided charter schools are the answer. Others have provided alternative opportunities for youth who don’t do well in the typical public school. And others have simply been too busy pointing fingers.
Even when rates improve, the problem is still extensive.
That’s because most of the solutions center around patching potholes: pouring resources into programs for children who are already at a disadvantage when it comes to learning.
Extensive research on brain development indicates that what happens between the ages of zero and three affects our ability to learn: (http://www.ag.ndsu.edu/pubs/yf/famsci/fs609w.htm)
Forget about being ready to learn in kindergarten. Children from an environment with little stimulation or interaction are behind before they even enter a Pre-K classroom.
But, as a nation, we are doing very little to address true early education (birth to three.) Right now, we are simply trying to help many kids whose brains were never wired to learn because of what happened during their first three years. If our education system shifted its resources and focus to the very young, children might actually be better prepared for academic learning.
And yes, the cost would be high. But people always think the cost of preventive programs is high until they look at the cost when there is no prevention.
According to a recent series on NPR (http://www.npr.org/2011/07/24/138653393/school-dropout-rates-adds-to-fiscal-burden) a high school drop out will earn $200,000 less than a high school graduate over his or her lifetime, and almost a million dollars less than a college graduate. And the cost to taxpayers? The estimate is anywhere from 320 to 350 billion dollars as a result of lost wages, taxable income, health, welfare and incarceration costs.
Can you imagine the difference if our education system actually began to address the critical link between early childhood brain development and academic success? Not only would we begin cutting the costs attributed to the high school drop out rate, but we’d have a whole generation that would be better prepared to contribute to society.
Making that change would require a significant paradigm shift in how Americans think about public education and who we think should receive it. And it would mean education systems would have to partner with other sectors to work with families, since that’s where much early education is or is not occurring.
This overhaul wouldn’t solve all of our country’s education issues. Like anything else, there’s not one magic bullet.
But it’s certainly a start to paving the way for future generations.
When It Comes to Sex and Relationships, I’m Pretty Sure America is Bipolar
I’m beginning to think that America suffers from bi-polar disorder when it comes to issues related to sex and relationships.
Either that, or we are simply a country of hypocrites.
Since I’d like to believe we aren’t a bunch of hypocrites, I prefer to blame our attitudes and behavior on something else.
But whatever the reason, we are definitely a country of extremes.
On one hand, the United States continues to have one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in the developed world: a rate almost three times that of Germany and France and over four times of that Netherlands (http://www.advocatesforyouth.org/publications/419?task=view). On the other hand, we have a really difficult time talking to our children about sex and sexuality.
Years ago, I felt completely beaten up when I was battling the issue of “abstinence only” education versus comprehensive sex education. But then, the issue got personal: I had children, and I want them to develop safe and healthy attitudes.
This means providing them with as much accurate information as possible. This also means providing them with the tools to use that information wisely and to feel comfortable talking with me about anything. If I don’t have the answer, I’ll help find it.
But I’m learning that’s often the exception. A lot of parents want to avoid any conversation. Period.
They freak out when certain body parts or behaviors come up in conversation, and they attempt to steer the discussion elsewhere.
This is ridiculous considering what our kids are exposed to every day in the media. I remember when 8:00 was reserved for family friendly television programs. Now, it’s hard to find anything on network television that doesn’t center around sexual humor and innuendo or that doesn’t portray casual sex as the expectation rather than the exception.
I’ve found myself explaining more to my daughter between 8:00 and 8:30 than at any other time of the day. But the discussion also becomes an opportunity to share my values, which I hope she and her brother eventually appreciate. And I hope both my children understand how self-love and independence are far more important than being in a relationship, at any age.
But that’s not easy, especially with girls. While the public service messages and textbooks are telling girls they can be anything, the rest of the world seems to be broadcasting that being in a relationship is what they should be striving for.
I was recently at a birthday party for a 10-year-old girl who was crying because her boyfriend had broken up with her. She had just turned ten, and she was crying over a boy. I just didn’t get it, and when I don’t get something, I ask questions.
First, I asked my daughter. Always her mother’s daughter, she said she didn’t get it either.
“Some of these girls always have to have a boyfriend,” she said. “It’s stupid. They waste so much time on that rather just having fun with their friends.”
I agreed, but, in a concerned manner, approached the mother about the issue. Her response? “I know, she’s heartbroken and will be up all night worrying about it. Hopefully, she’ll get over him soon.”
Get over him soon? At (barely) ten?
But then, I should have known better. This comment came from a woman who, recently re-married, has a signature on her text messages that reads “I love (the name of her husband).”
I’m thinking maturity regarding relationships isn’t her strength.
When I told a friend about how the girl didn’t enjoy her tenth birthday party because she was upset about losing her boyfriend, his response was, “They are just imitating what they see adults do.”
That’s what scares me most of all.
Despite efforts to build their self-esteem, I’m afraid the predominate message girls receive is that being in a relationship is a measure of who they are. Is that why so many woman are involved in abusive relationships? Is that why one in four women will experience domestic violence in her life and why an estimated 1.3 million woman are the victim of physical assault by an intimate partner every year? http://www.ncadv.org/.
But I can’t blame the media too much. They simply sell what people are willing to buy, such as magazines with pictures of unrealistically beautiful and barely dressed women on the covers. Apparently, our country is fine with seeing pictures of half-naked woman while in line at the grocery store, but is struggling with issues of breastfeeding in public: http://healthland.time.com/2011/12/27/the-nurse-in-why-breast-feeding-moms-are-mad-at-target/?xid=gonewsedit.
We need laws so mothers can breast feed their babies, but we are forced to look at “stars with cellulite” while buying milk?
I understand that we all get mixed messages, but our country is one big mixed message, especially when it comes to the human body, sex and relationships.
If it was up to me to resolve the issue, I’d say we need to start with some honest discussion about what we really value rather than what we pretend to value.
But then, I also know Americans have a love/hate relationship with honest discussion.
I’m guessing that’s also part of our disorder.
My “Liberal” Brain May Not Believe What You Think It Does
I’m getting very tired of being told what I think. Partly because I already know, and partly because what other people say is often not accurate.
But that doesn’t seem to matter to a lot of people, especially in today’s political environment. Sound bites, snarky comments and misinformation appear to be the norm when it comes to influencing opinion.
And sadly, many people prefer to make generalizations rather than to look at the complexities of almost every issue.
In other words, clarifying what my “liberal” beliefs are won’t matter to those who prefer spoon-fed ideology that paints everything in black and white terms.
Despite the fact that people who should hear what I really believe won’t bother to read this, I’m sharing anyway:
1. I believe in personal responsibility and hard work. I can’t stand laziness and I don’t think it’s the taxpayers responsibility to support people who abuse the system. I also know that the majority of people seeking help have fallen on hard times, are not lazy and/or have a legitimate need. Most have children, who will suffer if their needs aren’t met. I also know that only about 10% of those receiving help also attempt to abuse the system. I know that charitable giving doesn’t begin to cover the need, that the implications of not helping those in need are severe and that funding social services is an essential use of taxpayer dollars.
2. I believe that people who receive assistance from social services should be held accountable for what they receive by taking steps to help themselves. Apparently, a lot of other “liberals” believe the same thing, which is why most social workers and social service providers spend most of their time helping people build skills to improve their circumstances … not “handing out” money. I also believe that people can change, which is why they need others to support and encourage them rather than to criticize and judge. And I believe that people who complain about lazy people on welfare don’t know the basic facts about eligibility requirements, what people actually receive and what is required of them. I know the majority of people who point fingers really don’t want to learn more anyway, because if they did, they wouldn’t be so judgmental in the first place.
3. I believe in the Constitution and its Amendments, particularly the First Amendment and Freedom of Speech. I also believe that these rights should equally apply to all Americans, not just those who have more money or connections. When you have more resources, you have greater opportunity to use and abuse these rights. Ensuring equal access is important. I don’t believe that microphones only belong in the hands of the elected, and I don’t believe Constitution was written with the concept that corporations are people.
4. I believe in freedom of religion and the power of prayer. I also believe that religion is personal and shouldn’t be used to further a political or any other agenda. Historically, people have abused religion to gain power and influence and to promote their own causes. The results can be extremely harmful.
5. I believe in one nation under God, but I don’t believe in a nation of only one religion. I don’t believe that people of one faith are any more moral than people of any other faith or even people of no faith.
6. I believe that people who want to own a gun should have the right to do so. I also believe that the use of guns should be regulated and monitored, just like the use and operation of a motor vehicle. The primary purpose of a gun is to harm another living being, and I believe everyone who picks one up should fully understand and consider that potential. I don’t understand why any private citizen needs to own a semi-automatic weapon, and I know when that happens, there is always the potential that a criminal will steal or gain access to it. I also know the gun industry wants to sell as many guns as they can because their goal is to make a big profit, not to protect anyone. That’s why it spends spend big bucks on propaganda to make the issue black and white.
7. I believe in fairness, just as one of the most revered Republicans ever, Abraham Lincoln, did when he proclaimed, “These men ask for just the same thing, fairness, and fairness only. This, so far as in my power, they, and all others, shall have” I also realize, that since his time, we recognize that inequality exists beyond just race. I believe that love is love, and if you want to commit your life to someone else, the sex of that other person shouldn’t matter. I believe that race, income and religion shouldn’t predict your outcomes in life. And I believe that people who discriminate, judge or make harsh comments on the basis of race, religion, socio-economic status or sexual orientation are either fearful or selfish.
8. I believe that having money is a good thing, but I also believe that there is something wrong with a country when the distribution of wealth and power is so unequal. I know that this unequal distribution is NOT a result of some people working harder than others. I also know that raising this issue threatens people who are happy with the status quo, with their bank accounts and with the power that gives them. And I know that people who are threatened tend to point fingers and find fault with others so they deflect attention from the real issues. Whenever issues of inequality become part of the political landscape, people who have nothing to lose may not fight for the rights of those who have everything to gain. But when they do? The country benefits.
9. I believe that people CAN “pull them up from the bootstraps,” and I’m privileged to know people who have accomplished just that. I also know that the odds are against this. When your parent abuse drugs, when they don’t value education and when they don’t encourage hard work, you already have three strikes against you. And when you’re low-income, the chances are that you aren’t attending the best schools. Low-income children should have the best teachers and the best schools. But they can’t pay for them, so middle and upper class children get the educational benefits and the advantage in life instead. Children are our future, and we have to invest in them… all of them. Early education provided through Head Start and other programs is essential.
10. I believe people are more important than money. There’s no other way to say it. I believe that worshiping money and power more than God violates the First Commandment. I believe that our current political system allows people, and corporations, to buy politicians and policies that in turn allows them to buy more power and money. I believe something has to change, and if it doesn’t, the majority of Americans will suffer.
I also believe that everyone has the right to his/her own opinion, and I’m grateful to have the opportunity to express mine on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. As the great man said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
No Mitt Romney, It’s Not Envy That’s Making Me Green
I was getting ready for work yesterday morning, when my stomach started churning.
No, it wasn’t morning sickness. At least, not the typical type of morning sickness.
My nausea was the result of listening to Matt Lauer interview Mitt Romney after his decisive win in the New Hampshire Presidential Primary.
Let me restate that.
I was nauseous listening to Mitt Romney respond to Matt Lauer.
Lauer had asked the heir apparent to the Republican throne if it was fair to characterize questions about income inequality and Wall Street greed as “politics of envy.”
Personally, I thought this was a great question, because issues of income inequality are important to me. How politicians understand and care about the less fortunate is just as critical.
Then Mitt Romney opened his mouth.
“I think it’s about envy. I think it’s about class warfare,” Romney said. ” … you’ve opened up a whole new wave of approach in this country which is entirely inconsistent with the concept of ‘one nation under God.'”
Envy? Class Warfare? God? Obviously, Romney’s comments were simple pandering: throwing out key words that his handlers had identified as appealing to potential voters.
Raising the issue of economic inequality has nothing to do with envy. In fact, it’s just the opposite. It reflects compassion and caring for all Americans, not just a few privileged individuals.
All political candidates, regardless of party affiliation, have more dollars flowing into their campaign coffers than make sense for a nation with a struggling economy and where children are going to bed cold and hungry. So I definitely think we should all be asking questions.
Besides, addressing issues of inequality isn’t anything new. I thought it was what this country was all about. Up until the last few years, if America was in a beauty contest, equality would have been her platform.
But there IS something wrong in America. And it’s not just one or two individuals who can be blamed. It’s the system.
Report after report shows that income inequality is growing while at the same time, the amount of money flowing into politics is greatly influencing policy. Those with money are controlling policies, and policies drive how money flows. Most Americans are finding it difficult to break into that exclusive circle. So if you don’t have money, your influence is very limited.
Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed with Romney’s reaction. Then he said something even worse.
“I think it’s fine to talk about those things in quiet rooms and discussions about tax policy and the like,” Romney said. “But the president has made this part of his campaign rally. Everywhere he goes we hear him talking about millionaires and billionaires and executives and Wall Street. It’s a very envy-oriented, attack-oriented approach and I think it’ll fail.”
Forget his comments about Obama. My mind was stuck on the fact that he thought issues of inequality should occur in quiet rooms.
I was dumbstruck. Then I got nauseous.
The issues of unequal distribution of money and the unequal distribution of power shouldn’t be raised during political campaigns? They shouldn’t be the subject of public debate? Did he really say that?
Isn’t that what some people used to think of racism? of women’s rights? about gay rights? About all the critical issues that ultimately helped define, and are still defining America? Does Romney really think those issues should also be discussed in quiet rooms?
With my stomach still rolling, I had to ask myself if he doesn’t want them discussed publicly because the current system suits his need and he sees no need for change. Or does he really just think that people with less money, less education or fewer connections really shouldn’t have an equal voice or opportunity to express their opinions publicly? Or is it both?
With a face green with nausea, not envy, I turned the television off and left for work.
On my agenda for the morning? Giving a presentation on “the Dimensions of Poverty.” The presentation went well. The 50 or so people from various business and social sectors really wanted to talk about the issue. And the room wasn’t even close to quiet.
The Myth of the Same 24 Hours
I admit that I’m generally a sucker for adages, quotes and platitudes. They often make sense, and sometimes they even speak directly to me. Sometimes.
And then there are sayings that get my blood boiling, because they are simply unfair and obviously perpetuated by people trying to make themselves feel good.
“We all have the same 24 hours” is one of those sayings.
O.K., technically, there are only 24 hours in each day, and as far as I know, no one gets rewarded with extra hours for doing good deeds or has hours subtracted for bad behavior. But the SAME 24 hours? It’s not even close.
For people who want to feel self-righteous, the saying works. After all, they’ve achieved “success” with only 24 hours in a day. If others haven’t, then they obviously haven’t used their 24 hours wisely. This logic is similar to the myth that if low-income people just worked harder, they too could be financially secure. Ironically, some of the hardest working people I know are working two jobs and still can’t make ends meet. And when they aren’t working to earn meager paychecks? They are spending time on tasks that middle and upper class people generally don’t.
In other words, when you don’t have a high income, you just have less time.
You have less time because you spend hours in a laundromat rather than throwing your clothes into a washing machine at home.
You have less time because you can’t simply jump in your car when you need to go to the grocery store, to a child’s school program or to work. You depend, and wait, on public transportation.
You have less time because you don’t have social connections with doctors who can “get you right in” as a favor. Instead, you wait just to get an appointment . . . then you wait in the waiting room.
I first became aware of the “24 hour myth” through my own struggles. I spent hours trying to do things myself that friends with bigger paychecks paid someone else to do.
And sadly, because I bought into the myth that not having extra money meant I wasn’t successful enough or working hard enough, I would pretend that I took satisfaction in “doing it myself.”
Then, at some point, I realized that “doing it myself” was the epitome of hard work. It just didn’t equate to having more money in my pocket, a bigger house or a nicer car. But neither did it equate to being a failure. It did increase my understanding the value of time, and how people who can afford to buy it, do.
They buy it by paying babysitters to watch their children. They buy it by paying people to clean their homes. They buy it by eating at restaurants instead of cooking. And sometimes they can even buy time by working for businesses that allow them to go on golf outings or to participate in charitable events to build their network and their resume (while lower-income people are generally required to stay at the work site while on the job.)
I can’t judge whether people who have higher salaries use their time more or less wisely than people with lower incomes any more than I can judge whether they work harder. Like everything else, individual behaviors run the spectrum. But I do know people with more money have more discretionary time to spend on working more or playing more. And just like discretionary money, it can be wasted or well spent.
As Carl Sandburg said, “Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.”
And that is saying I CAN definitely buy into.
A Tale of Two Teachers and Blank Sheets of Paper
With the current year fading fast and all of the potential of a new year on the horizon, I’d like to suggest a resolution for everyone: don’t write on someone else’s blank sheet of paper.
Whether or not you let someone write on YOUR paper is up to you, but please don’t write on someone else’s.
Personally, I’m resolving to avoid both. For such an outwardly head strong, opinionated person, you might think the first will be more difficult. But, for the unsure, worried and perpetually questioning me inside, the second will be just as challenging.
For years, I’ve let way too many people write on my paper. . . altering my story with their advice, opinions and standards. And the difference between someone who writes on your paper and someone who cheers as you write is long-lasting.
I learned this from two teachers and the blank sheets of paper they expected their students to fill.
I absolutely loved those blank sheets of paper. I loved the smell. I loved the look. And I loved the endless possibilities.
During my grade school years, the paper wasn’t white. It was an indescribable shade of grey and tan with space for a picture above and a combination of dotted and solid lines below. The purpose of the lines was to ensure appropriate hand-writing form.
I never worried about my handwriting (and was generally graded down accordingly). I was much more worried about content. I was fascinated by how I could string words together to say something that nobody else had ever said. I adored the feeling of putting pencil to paper and creating something. And I loved being able to express myself.
What I didn’t love was having parameters placed on me.
And those parameters were set forth quite firmly by my first grade teacher, Mrs. Gladwill. Unfortunately, I can’t really say anything nice about the woman. I could write pages about the horrors of that school year –about the times I was stuck in the corner so other students wouldn’t cheat off me; about how needing to go to the bathroom was a nightmare because it was prohibited during class time (Mrs. Gladwill’s theory was that if you didn’t have the sense to go during recess or lunch, then you should wait); about how Mrs. Gladwill liberally used harsh words and a ruler on knuckles; and, most of all, about how Mrs. Gladwill required conformity.
For a “spirited” child, there’s no wonder that I didn’t thrive in first grade. I simply survived. And was beholden to a series of lessons that led me to believe that sometimes it’s easier to just let others control what goes on your blank sheet of paper.
That became evident when Mrs. Gladwill gave all of her students the assignment of writing (and drawing) an answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
At first, I was very excited about the assignment. With Mrs. Gladwill as a teacher, I should have known better.
I wanted to write about becoming a trapeze artist. My father had built and hung a trapeze from a juniper tree in our backyard, and I was already practicing my act.
The problem was, I didn’t know how to spell trapeze.
When I asked Mrs. Gladwill, her only advice was to look it up in the “book of careers” she had provided us.
Needless to say, trapeze artist wasn’t listed.
So I had to ask Mrs. Gladwill again.
Instead of helping me spell out my dream, she advised me to write about something “normal”, like becoming a nurse.
I had no desire to be nurse, but I recognized the authority she had. So, I reluctantly looked up nurse in the career book and wrote about how I wanted to be one. I even remember drawing the picture with particularly harsh strokes: I was angry that Mrs. Gladwill had taken control of MY piece of paper. At the same time, I did not want to be in trouble. So my blank sheet of paper became a full sheet of paper that was a lie.
Turning in that paper marked the end of my dreams of becoming a trapeze artist. Mrs. Gladwill had made it clear: if it wasn’t in the book about careers, there was no sense in pursuing it.
By second grade, my dreams had evolved anyway. My new ambition was to become a writer.
Much to my surprise, my teacher, Mrs. Roth, never told me to look up writer in the “career book.” In fact, she didn’t even have a career book. She simply encouraged me to write stories whenever I had extra time. She even taped my stories on the outside of her classroom door where others could read them. And they did.
I remember swelling with pride when fourth graders stopped by our classroom to read my stories.
Since then, that dream of being a writer has never died. I can’t say I’ve fully achieved that goal, but I never gave it up. It’s hard to give up something when others, particular teachers, believe in you.
So as 2012 approaches, I’m raising a glass to toast the blank sheets of paper everyone will receive in the new year. And I’m toasting the opportunity we all have to continue writing our own unique story without being told what the plot should be. I’m also raising a glass to how we can all cheer each other on. And most of all, I’m raising a glass to the great teachers who lead the way. Not only do they encourage so many of us, but they also serve as examples for other teachers by acknowledging that sometimes the most meaningful lessons aren’t the ones that are taught but are the ones that are observed.
Here’s to that! Cheers!
I’m Tired of Walking the Tightrope
I’m walking a tightrope in my life. The tightrope may not be physically dangerous, but it’s dangerous none the less. And the only thing that prevents me from making that one deadly misstep is the realization that letting go requires perfect timing. Otherwise, the results can be unpleasant at best and horrific at worst.
The tightrope I’m talking about is one of convention – – of not calling people out when they speak with authority that their religious beliefs make them more moral than or superior to people of a different faith.
As I write this, I’m pretty sure my balance is getting very, very shaky. But that’s nothing new for me.
In fact, I came very close to stepping off that tight rope the other day. A meeting was wrapping up when the conversation turned toward politics. That led to a discussion about the nation’s morals and values. Or rather, the values and morals of the American public.
I was already standing up and collecting my things when the woman who had been sitting quietly next to me during the entire meeting stood up and proclaimed, “I’m a Christian. It’s so sad that so many people in our country aren’t.”
It took all of my willpower not to turn to her and say, “So, what you’re saying is because I’m Jewish, I don’t have any morals or values?”
(For the record, I’m not Jewish. I’m Lutheran. And faith plays a very important role in my life. I just don’t think that my version of faith is the only one God smiles upon.)
Instead of confronting the woman, I said nothing. But her comment bothered me –mostly because I’ve been hearing different versions of it for years. People are holding Christianity up as though it were membership card to a club that scorns non-members. It’s almost as though their club is actively recruiting new members while holding its nose up at those who choose to join a different club instead.
To me, this behavior is in direct opposition to what Jesus taught. He preached acceptance and love of everyone. Period. And I’m pretty sure his message was primarily about how we treat each other rather than what we call ourselves.
I say this because I have friends of a different faith, or even of no faith, who behave more like Christ than a lot of people who call themselves “Christians.” They help without judgement. They give without expectations. They accept without an agenda. Most importantly, they simply care about other people.
I recognize there are people of non-Christian faiths who have committed horrible acts in the name of their religion. But, if you look at history, a lot of Christians have done the same.
At the same time, there are many, many, many more people who have committed acts of compassion in the name of religion – all types of religion.
Faith is a beautiful gift. But giving to others – regardless of faith – is also a beautiful gift.
As my friend Holly so eloquently stated, “If a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew and an atheist all working together on a Habitat for Humanity House, what’s the end result? The house gets built and a family that didn’t have its own home now has one.”
To me, that’s the value that America needs: the value of appreciating our differences while working together to care for everyone – the poor in resources and the poor in spirit. It’s a value of judging less and caring more.
What America doesn’t need are people proclaiming that there is only one religion with the right values and/or that only Christians are moral.
So, there you go.
If I haven’t fallen off my tightrope by now, I’m pretty sure there’s someone who wants or is willing to push me.
But, just so you know, I’m going to get right back up.
The Addams Family Has Nothing On My Family
One of the stories that gets told and re-told every time my family is together is how I was switched at birth.
Truth be told, the story really isn’t all that interesting. I never actually got sent home with the wrong family. There were only two babies born in the rural Montana hospital that day, and I was over eight pounds while the other baby girl was much smaller. So in reality, there was never any significant confusion. The hospital was just so small and births were so infrequent that wristbands weren’t used. As a result, my parents were handed the wrong baby when they were getting ready to leave.
But even though the circumstances weren’t all that dramatic, there were times growing up when I was convinced that I was living with the wrong family. I was sure my dad made a mistake when he told hospital staff that they had given him the wrong baby. At least, I really, really wished this, and I fantasized that someday my real family, the ranchers in Montana, would come rescue me from my plight.
Putting aside the obvious family resemblances, I was convinced that there was no way I could actually be related to the people I was being forced to live with. They were just too weird, and even worse, they were making me weird. I knew this because I spent a lot of time comparing our family to other families.
There was simply no doubt. We were abnormal: my parents didn’t care about the things other parents cared about; they had different expectations and priorities for my brother and me; they didn’t listen to popular music; they rarely watched any television other than PBS; they didn’t care about pop culture and they would express opinions that were outside the norm of suburbia. Even the food we ate was weird.
There were times when the hopelessness of my situation got so bad that I would secretly watch an episode of the Addams Family
just because it made me feel a little bit better. But only a little bit, because I knew the Addams Family was fictional, while my family was real. Besides, my mother never approved of such frivolous shows.
But, like so many other situations in life, I grew up and got some perspective.
I’m not saying I completely overcame my compulsive need to compare myself to others and to worry that I was a bit off kilter (I always have been and always will be), but I did realize that there really is no such thing as normal. Most people spend a lot of time and energy putting up appearances rather than truly engaging in the world. I was raised in a family that just didn’t worry about what other people thought and lived accordingly. Because of that, it took me a long time to figure out how much other people were trying to cover up.
I’ll never forget an incident that occurred when my children were small. They had been invited to a birthday party at the home of someone who I thought had it all together. Not only did she have a career, but she was always talking about the amazing meals she cooked, how she was decorating her home and how her children were exceeding at a variety of activities. At that point in my life, I was feeling accomplished if I arrived at work with matching shoes and if my children were fed before I collapsed in the evening.
Needless to say, I didn’t want to go to the party. But I did.
I don’t remember much about the actual event. What I do remember is trying to find the bathroom and opening a door to a bedroom instead. At least, I think it was a bedroom. I couldn’t tell from all the junk that had been thrown in and piled up to get it out of view. This was obviously the mother’s attempt to make her home and her life appear perfect.
At that moment, staring at all that junk piled to the ceiling, I realized how many people spend too much time and energy trying to create an image of who they think they should be rather than simply being who they really are.
My family may have been weird, but at least they taught me the importance of embracing and accepting differences and imperfections, especially our own. They also taught me that no great discoveries or great works of art were the result of simply following the crowd or doing what everyone else was doing. Great advances come from thinking outside the box and having the conviction to do things differently.
My parents innate ability to do this may have skipped me, but it went right to my children. Neither of them seems to care about doing what is considered to be popular or the “in” thing. They are simply happy pursuing their own interests and are comfortable in their own skin. I admit that I sometimes forget what I’ve learned and start comparing them to other kids.
Then I remember the Addams Family. Their neighbors and community members may have thought them strange, but not only were they oblivious to what other people thought, they were also incredibly happy.
I like to think my family is too.
On this Thanksgiving, I’m Thankful for All the Handouts I’ve Received
There are times when I just want to scream out loud. But that doesn’t necessarily solve any problems, so sometimes I choose to scream through writing.
Now is one of those times.
While I can’t emphasize enough that I believe in the First Amendment, that everyone is entitled to their own opinions and that everyone should be allowed to express them, there are times when those opinions just seem so off base.
Take, for example, the number of people who complain about others who take “handouts” and/or boast that they have never done so themselves. They often say this as though they are morally superior.
I just don’t get that, because I have yet to meet a person who hasn’t received a handout.
Personally, I’ve received more handouts than I ever deserved. And this Thanksgiving, I am so grateful for them.
The handouts I’ve received may not have been in the form of government assistance for low-income individuals, but they are the reason I haven’t had to depend on such help when I’ve hit a rough patch.
I am grateful that I received the handout of a mother who didn’t abuse alcohol or drugs and had a healthy diet while she was pregnant. Her decisions provided me with a giant advantage in life. I was born healthy and had parents who ensured I maintained my health. Too many people start life without that handout and spend the rest of their life trying to catch up.
I am grateful for the handout of parents who were concerned about my education from the day I was born. They shared their love of the written word by reading out loud to me. They didn’t set me in front of a television so they could go on with the lives they wanted. They provided me with books, crayons and the opportunity to express myself. Too many people spent the first three years of their lives without any of those handouts – handouts that greatly influence their ability to learn and process information.
I am grateful for the handout of being a child that never knew what it was like to be truly scared or cold or hungry. There was always food on the table, in the cupboard, in the refrigerator and in the freezer. I never went to bed afraid that there wouldn’t be heat in the morning or that I wouldn’t have a coat to wear in cold weather. Too many people grow up without the simple handout of having those basic needs met – which creates a completely different perspective of how the world works.
I am grateful for the handout of parents who made their children and their family a priority. I always felt wanted. I always felt like I belonged and I always felt like I helped make my family complete. I was never told I was a mistake. I was never told I was a burden. And I was never told that my parents’ life would be easier if I wasn’t around. Just as importantly, I wasn’t hit, kicked burned or assaulted in my own home. Too many people grow up abused and wondering why they even exist. The handout of love is powerful, and without it, people often seek affection and attention in the wrong places and in the wrong ways.
I am grateful for the handout of having parents who wanted me to succeed and who demonstrated self-discipline and good decision-making skills. They required my brother and me to take responsibility for our actions. They also ensured that we were exposed to a wide variety of opportunities and activities. They were never in jail, they never dragged us into unsafe locations and they didn’t bring a variety of unsavory characters into our home. Too many people grow up without the handout of positive role models. Their parents or caretakers or community members are stumbling through life attempting to meet their own needs without even considering those of their children. Our ability to make choices and understand consequences is a skill… and like all skills it needs to be demonstrated and practiced.
I am grateful for the handouts I received that were beyond human control. I’m not dyslexic, I’m not disabled and I’m not disadvantaged. I am surrounded by people who can lend a helping hand. When I faced a real emergency, there were always people in my life who had the resources to help me. Too many people are surrounded by people who are facing their own crises and don’t have the ability to help anyone else.
I am truly saddened by people who view poverty as a simple issue. It isn’t.
And I am bothered that some people think life is an even playing field and everyone has equal opportunities. We don’t.
And I worry about the belief that low-income people have flawed characters rather than an unbelievable set of obstacles to overcome.
I agree that there are success stories.There are people who have beaten the odds, overcome horrible situations and gone on to live very productive lives. I am privileged to know such people.
And I also know that somewhere along their life path, they got some handouts – generally in the form of a caring person or persons who wanted to share all they had been given: whether material or spiritual. People who wanted to pay it forward rather than to hold it tight. People who understood the value of offering their hearts and their hands out to others.
On this Thanksgiving, I am not only grateful for the all of the hands that have been held out to me, I am grateful for the role models and heroes who continue to do this for others on a daily basis.
Holding your hands out can be a miracle for others.
Opening your heart to others can be a miracle for you.
I hope everyone has the opportunity to do both this Thanksgiving and into the upcoming holiday season.
Just So You Know 