Barnmaven

How not to become what you despise

It was an early lunch on a Sunday in Seattle, fifteen-odd years ago.  As we enjoyed our meal, the restauarant began to fill up with families in more formal attire. 

"Everyone's getting out of church," I remarked.  One of my companions, an atheist, glanced up.  "Yeah.  Christian assholes." I was taken aback.  "Discrimination in reverse is still discrimination, you know," I said.  "So what?" he responded.  "They do it to everyone else."

I replay that conversation in my head frequently.  It bothered me then and it bothers me now.  

Human life is incredibly diverse.  In this sea of differences we naturally seek out small islands of like-minded people with whom to forge relationships.  It feels good to spend time with people who think similarly or who have similar interests.   We love our families - most of us do, anyway - but we need our friends, our classmates, church family, club members and fellow volunteers.  We identify with others and with the whole of humanity when we share beliefs or hobbies.

Religion as it has been practiced by far too many has been an exercise in coercion, isolation and condemnation.  But those are not the hallmarks of every person of faith.  Faith is also, for me and for many others, a source of inspiration, connection, energy and love.  Here in the U.S. our forefathers designed a secular government not tied to any particular brand of faith in order to preserve everyone's right to practice the faith of their choosing.  That freedom also encompasses the right to not practice any faith at all, to congregate and to speak freely, to be free of the intrusion of the state into our personal affairs.  

I am thankful for the freedom to raise my voice in disagreement; there are many people on this globe whose governments do not afford them the same treatment.  I can stand on a rock in the middle of the square and shout my distaste for government agencies wildly overreaching constitutional boundaries in their quest for information and - at least for now - I won't be arrested (or worse) for doing so.

That freedom assures me that not only can I lift my voice to proclaim my personal beliefs; so can each and every one of my fellow citizens.  The beauty of this freedom may not seem so apparent when others voice opinions that clash with my own.  Even so, if  another's ideologies are distasteful, if their words and actions seem bigoted and unkind, there is no victory for me in behaving the same way.  Two wrongs have never formed together to create a right.

Here in my small corner of the world we had an incident that grabbed the national spotlight last summer.  A local florist declined to provide flowers for the wedding of a gay couple.  She's now in court, as our state statute prohibits businesses from discriminating against minority groups, including LGBT folks.  Personally I don't agree with her views in the slightest.  But I'm not here to argue my (well-thought out and researched) opinion.  I'm here to say that I disagree that prosecuting an old lady for her antiquated and conservative opinion does anything at all to make this a better world to live in.  It simply fans the flames on both sides of the argument.  

Look, if we lived in a town that only had one florist to provide flowers, it would be entirely different.  The fact is that there are upwards of forty local listings for florists, most of whom would be delighted to provide flowers for anyone's wedding, gay or straight.  I don't think what's happening by prosecuting the business owner serves any purpose but to exact retribution against people for not thinking the way others want them to think -- and just like that we've become what we despise.  I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in a world where we are no longer free to have our own thoughts and ideas about things.  Do you?  

You know, I hate discrimination.  For example, I hate when people see women as less capable than men simply because of their gender.   But if I, in retaliation, turn the tables and exact my revenge against all men because of the actions of some misogynist assholes, what good have I done?  Have I in any way advanced the notion of equality?    

The small herd of horses at my house has a heirarchy.  Khara, Denise's mare, believes she is the boss.  My gelding Bugs doesn't agree, but he lets her push him around most of the time.  Penny, my little chestnut mare, is the low man on the totem pole.  Denise laughed as she described their behavior one recent morning.  Khara chased Bugs off of his hay, so he in turn laid his ears back and bossed Penny around.  Poor Penny didn't have any other horses to bully, so she laid her ears back and chased the chickens away.  Fortunately chickens are stupid and not particularly nuanced in their thought processes.  They squacked and cackled and got quickly out of Penny's way, then resumed picking through the horse poo for insects to feast on. 

I think those chickens are on to something.  

If you think people ought to refrain from denigrating, making fun of, bullying, hating or otherwise discriminating against other people, then I gently suggest that the next time you have an opportunity to show other people how you would like them to behave, try NOT doing those things either and apply a generous dose of forgiveness instead.  We will never change the world in a positive way when our response to injustice is to be unjust in return.

No, I believe the path to a better world comes when we apply love like a balm at every opportunity.  

Today, God, help me to be the person I want to see in others.  Help me to be bigger than my small angers and hurts.  Help me to love everyone, even the unloving and the unlovely.  Help me to see when I am being unjust and unloving and to  make amends.  Thank you for the people you place in my path who show your love in their words and actions.  Help me to be more like them.

 

This week should end and quickly

This week has been a long one and I am hoping that by saying I am glad to see it be over that I am not also simultaneously cursing all of us and causing next week to be somehow worse.

The only place that seemed truly safe and sane was home, where it was just SG and me, the kids having been with their dad all week.

I don't really talk much about work here and that's not going to change.  Speaking in generalities, though, CRAZY WEEK.  So many metaphorical fires to put out!  

It was the second week back at school for the kids.  This is a big year for both of them; Amazon Girl started middle school.  For the first time in three years the kids are in separate schools.  I know this is simultaneously scary and tremendously freeing for both of them.  They love each other so much, even with all the fighting they do.  Race Car Man has always had his big sister there to depend on and now he's learning to be in the world on his own.  Amazon Girl has always felt the need to look out for her little brother.  This year she gets to worry about herself and I know that's a big weight off of her.

Both kids have had their challenges already, only two weeks into the school year.  

Race Car Man has had a combination of great/bad/OK/good/terrible days.  There's no pattern with that one.  It would be great if we could predict with any certainty what kind of challenges he is going to have; that way his teacher and classroom aides could at least have an idea of just how much wine they were going to need (or not) at the end of a given day! 

Last year at two of his IEP meetings I brought up the thought that he may need an aide who is primarily dedicated to helping him but who could assist his teachers when he was coping OK.  His teacher was for the idea but no one else seemed to want to pursue it.  

On the third day of school I ended up writing a letter to the district formally requesting an aide.  

I am very pleased that I received a phone call very quickly from the Director of Special Services and we have a meeting set up for Monday.  

Amazon Girl has had different challenges.  

To add some historical context:  In the third grade a boy in her class fixated on her for some reason.   His obsession expressed itself in constant teasing, poking, touching.  She finally complained to me about it and I brought it to the attention of her teacher and school administrators.  They observed, confirmed, and promised to keep an eye on things.  Eventually he escalated to pushing, yelling and finally hurting her.  The day he bent her hand back so hard we had to have her wrist x-rayed was the day I went a little ballistic with the school, and the other student was disciplined.  They put my daughter in a different classroom, which I was not happy with but they were separated.  Ultimately we ended up moving her to another school, not because of this boy but so that she and her brother would be at the same school after he was placed in his special ed classroom.

Fast forward to sixth grade.  The middle school she now attends has students from several elementary schools in the district, including her old school.  Guess who also happens to be at her new school?  He is not in her homeroom classes, but he ended up in the same rotation for the last class of the day -- Health/PE.  Apparently he started right back in with the verbal harassment, which I wasn't aware of.  But on Wednesday he crossed the line.  As she was walking out of her health class, he shoved her from behind, so hard that she slammed into the metal guardrail of the portable walkway.  Her stomach was still hurting the next morning.  She didn't tell any adults at school, but met her father in the parking lot and after telling him what happened, called me at work to let me know as well.

My ex and I went together to the school at 7 am the following morning and filed a complaint.  The complaint was taken seriously, the boy was interviewed.  Amazon Girl texted me later that she had met with the principal and told that the boy was being transferred to a different afternoon rotation so that she would not be in class with him.  

I am very hopeful that this is the end of the problem.  If he touches or harasses her further we will be contacting the police.  I suspect that there are things going on with this kid that I couldn't possibly know about, and I have sympathy for that, but he can't be allowed to hurt my child and cause her to be scared to go to school.  

I've told my daughter to find an adult right away if he comes near her or speaks to her.  But I've also told her that if she can't find any other help and can't get away from him that she should defend herself.  

Right now she's happy because she doesn't have to be in class with him; we can only hope that this is the end of it.  

It hasn't been a total wash, though.  My stepson Josh finished his Navy flight school testing and has been accepted to fly jets!  He's moving to Mississippi later this month.  Before he does that he gets to go to Texas to do this test where they put him on a centrifuge and spin him both with his pressure suit and without until he passes out.  I am told this is to measure his G-force tolerance.  Personally I just think the military gets its rocks off on making people incredibly dizzy.  After that he takes a short vacation in Hawaii and I am also told I am not allowed to hitch a ride in his suitcase.  On a very sincere note, his mom and dad and all of the rest of us are incredibly proud of his accomplishments.  Congratulations, Josh.  You are a terrific young man and I believe you really can do anything you set your intentions toward.

As for the rest of it, I would just like to know what it is that I could possibly say or do that for Pete's sake would convince the universe to let us have a whole lot of nothing happening the rest of the school year.  I'm open to suggestions.

 

SG's Theory of the Universal Application of Love

In a conversation with SG last night about religion, Jesus and what SG call his theory of the Universal Application of Love as Christ's answer to pretty much every problem that exists, I was translating horse and human behavior as I am often wont to do.

Amongst practitioners of Natural Horsemanship techniques you will often hear horses referred to as "push" animals.  Because they are at the bottom of the food chain, their response to threat (or pressure) is to run away.  This natural tendency can be taken advantage of quite easily to train them.  When I apply pressure in this way, you move that way.  Because they are so sensitive to pressure, horses will soon learn to read your movements and so once they understand how it feels when you ask them to do a certain thin, they begin to read the smallest movement from you.  Thus,  maybe you start off by asking your horse to trot by leaning forward and giving him some leg pressure, or you might even have to spank him with your hand a little or your rein, and if he still is not trotting, you might let him feel the pressure of a spur.  In any case, once he has begun trotting, you don't need to continue to ask him to do it.  So long as he is doing what you asked him to do, you stop applying the additional pressure.  Soon he learns that when you shift your weight slightly and send a little energy down your legs, this means to move into the trot, and so you don't need as big a physical cue to get the same result.

Some people are better at responding quickly when the horse gets it right, and other people need a lot of practice to get any good at all at recognizing when the horse tries and begins to get it right.  When the latter happens, you will see a person continuing to put pressure on the horse, the horse has done or is trying to do as the rider requested but there's no reward. He's still getting stabbed in the side with a spur or spanked with the tail end of the reins.  If this goes on too long,  the horse gets incredibly frustrated and likely scared too, because he doesn't understand what you want from him at all.  You forgot to tell him he did it right, and because he is a prey animal and the pressure you put on him makes him scared, he may begin to fight - buck, rear up, kick - to get away from you.  Some horses have better minds about this than others and they are easier to work with, but with horses who are poor-minded or fearful to begin with, this kind of treatment will very quickly begin to develop a pathological response in the horse.  If he has to buck to get you off and that's what makes the pressure stop, then you've reinforced the pathology and the downward spiral begins.  Pretty soon you've got a horse that just hates to be ridden, doesn't trust anyone, and becomes a danger to people.

I believe this is an apt metaphor for what happens when we treat other people badly.  I see it in churches and organized religion all the time.  Instead of treating others with love, some people prefer to respond to others with judgment, hate and sometimes even violence.   The data has been in for a long time now; children raised in violent homes have a predictably much higher likelihood of become violent parents.  Children who spend too long in institutionalized environments as infants do not learn to have loving bonds with others, will end up being unable to relate as well or have appropriate trust levels.  As with a horse who has been improperly handled, you can usually improve the situation, but its a lot harder to fix it when it began badly in the first place, in horse OR human.

This bears out throughout the path of history, and it continues today becuse abuse begets abuse begets abuse.   Bad treatment by other people, whether we are children or adults, invariably results in some level of negative pathology and response within us.  If our experience is compounded by past abuse or other triggers, our stress and fear may compel us to either fight back in a way we ordinarily wouldn't dream of, or cause us an inverted response that leads to self harm - drug abuse, acoholism, or even worse, suicidal behavior.  We hurt ourselves or others when we learn that we have no value.

At my ten year high school reunion I remember someone reporting that this kid Ned, from a class a few years behind me, had built himself a shelter of some sort out in the woods, a la Ted Kaczynski  , booby-trapped the area around it and told everyone that if he caught anyone attempting to come near him they'd get shot.  I dont' know if the story was true or not, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Ned was one of those unfortunate kids who got bullied in school.  He was picked on constantly, he was small and wore thick black plastic-rimmed glasses, didn't dress like the cool kids, and from what I heard had a rather crappy home life as well.  In retrospect, the negative pressure on that poor kid from all sides must have been endless and unbearable.

In mixed company I am sometimes loathe to verbally announce that my beliefs are Christian in nature.  I know quite well what many people think of Christians, and its generally not very nice.  I tend to be far from the mainstream in my views of Christianity.  I think Jesus was a radical promoter of ONE value:  Love.  Jesus didn't write anything.  He used his words and his actions to preach a gospel that love, applied liberally and without prejudice, was the answer to everything.  In the early years after his death, Christianity had a lot of foward momentum.  People could understandably be open to the concept that treating one another with love, compassion, mercy and grace was THE way to live. 

All it took to effectively shut down this Love Revolution was a little politics.  Once the message of Christ was adopted by the government, it took no little effort to turn it back into a religion where reward came only from following hundreds of difficult rules, and "love" became a euphemism for "treating people like shit until they do what you want them to." 

We are born with an inherent need to be loved and nurtured.   That need for love, unfulfilled, creates problems.  Even if  you don't buy into my personal belief in Christianity, when it comes to the concept of love, I'm still right.   What frustrates and sickens me is when people are drawn to a group or a belief concept because they sense that what they need is that higher order of love, but what they get instead is condemnation.  They seek the application of mercy and instead receive a heavy dose of hatred. Oh, the people condemning won't admit that's what they're doing.  They try and camoflouge their hateful behavior as "love" but dehumanizing and hating other people resembles love about as much as a fluffy baby bunny resembles a honey badger.

If we really want the world to change, we need to radically change the way we treat others.  That doesn't mean becoming enablers or not being able to be honest and truthful when people hurt us or they act like assholes.  To me it just means that we remember to apply compassion when it comes to other people and stick to the basics laid out two thousand years ago by a Jewish carpenter.  Love others.  Easy in theory, often hard in practice, but ultimately the only answer I see that works long term.

 

With or against the current

I noticed a post while idly cruising Blogher written last week by Emily Kingsley, an autism mom who blogs at Our Holland.  Blogher featured one of her posts, a reaction in writing to an encounter with a woman who doesn't believe children with autism should be mainstreamed.  At all.  Because she believes its "not fair" to the normal kids.

The post itself had my hackles up, but reading some of the comments has got me feeling indignant as well.  Of course there were a majority of commenters who expressed their outrage at such outright ignorance.  But there were a few commenters, especially one in particular from the Facebook stream, who also believe children with autism or other disabilities don't belong  in the mainstream classroom.  "They're a distraction," said one.  "Its not fair to the other kids," said another.

I simply do not accept that these parents' children have more of a right to an appropriate learning experience than my son does simply because he has autism and they don't.

I believe that my son benefits when he is in his autism classroom AND when he is in the mainstream classroom for academics.  I also believe that the time he spends in the mainstream classroom benefits his neurotypical peers.  My belief is somewhat instinctual, but it is also an informed belief based on results and research.

Someday my son will be an independent adult.  He will need to function in a world where the majority of his coworkers and peers are neurotypical.  His time in the classroom and on the playground with his mainstream peers gives him many opportunities to learn the behaviors that make his interactions with others less frustrating and more rewarding.  The time he spends learning how to interpret social cues and how to interact appropriately with other people his age enhances his ability to succeed not just now, in school, but later in life as well.  This has been our experience, but various studies over the years on inclusion programs statistically support inclusion.  Children with autism who regularly interact in a mainstream environment (with appropriate controls and support) show marked improvements in their social skills and peer-to-peer interactions.

At the same time, spending time with other children who share many of his differences provides him an environment where he fits in.  In his other classroom he is less likely to be bullied for his autism.  He has the benefit of learning under the direction and care of teachers and other professionals who know how to help him gain better control over his behaviors.  He isn't the 'weird' kid in the class, he's one of the crowd, just another kid with autism.

I don't think my son needs to "act normal."  His autism doesn't need to be "cured," it is a part of who he is, it contributes to the many qualities that make him a wonderful and unique person.  The goal of mainstreaming him is rather to help him become adept at surviving in a world where the majority of people he encounters do not share his non-neurotypical traits.  For him to have the best chance of success in the workplace, he needs to have as much time as possible learning how to read social cues, how to regulate his behavior and emotions, how to navigate change and disruption.  These are the same skills all children, normal or differently abled, need to learn in order to be successful adults, really.

I have a firm opinion that children - all people, really - benefit greatly by learning to have compassion and empathy for others.  Very often people fear what is unfamiliar, and fear and ignorance create division and hostility.  We are not so many generations removed from a society that segregated the different and the disabled to an extreme.  Fortunately many parents, educators, medical providers and opinionated and outspoken people who are differently abled have made huge strides in gaining access to education, to the workplace and to the public consciousness.

When children have the opportunity to interact regularly with other children who are differently abled, the perception of difference diminishes.  A wheelchair becomes not something strange to stare at, its just the way your friend with CP gets around.  A text-to-speech device becomes the normal way your friend with apraxia of speech talks to you.  Kids can learn early that people's behaviors are sometimes a direct result of the way their brain processes information, and that kids who have difficulty in social situations aren't just being naughty or mean, they are having a hard time managing their reactions to stimuli or unable to understand social cues.  Kids with Tourette's aren't saying things to get attention or be disruptive, their brains are sending them signals they may not be able to control.

I'm a mom.  I love my kids and I want the best for them.  I want them to be happy and healthy people who have strong, loving relationships and who do work that satisfies them emotionally.  I want them to be productive, contributing members of our society.

Segregating children with differences only serves to create adults who don't function as well in society, who are more likely to have difficulty interacting with their coworkers or the guy who sells them groceries or the lady who collects their rent.  I don't want to see my child's potential diminished to suit the attitudes of another parent who doesn't have the first clue about what it is like to walk a mile in my son's shoes.

Just as my son ought to learn how to navigate a world that doesn't function the way his brain thinks it should, so does that other parent's child need to learn to navigate a world where not all of the poeple he interacts with will be just like him. 

 

Seeing beyond the label

Tomorrow the race car man has a very long evaluation to do. 

When his teacher wrote us to say that he was not showing any behavioral advances in school and that she felt something was missing from his diagnostic picture and definitely his medication toolbox, I stopped procrastinating and got on the phone with the insurance company.

The child psychiatrist who also manages Amazon Girl’s medication spent a half day with us, and we walked away from that appointment with a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication.  In just days we saw major improvements both in his ability to be more compliant at school and in the frequency and severity of his sensory meltdowns.   

This second evaluation will give me a much clearer picture of where we will need to approach behavioral therapy from.

I tell my kids frequently that I’m the luckiest mom in the world, and I believe that with all my heart.  There are times that their behaviors are irritating, when its easy to lose sight of the essential truth, that they are each unique and perfect in their own way.   While I like to think they embody the best traits of both their father and I, its probably more accurate to say that in two separate instances, our mutual DNA combined to bring something entirely new and special to life. 

Its easy when you have lots of doctors and diagnoses to get lost in the land of labels.  We need to have names and labels for our disorders, for our behaviors, yes.  But my child is much more than his labels.  His labels do not define for you at all the nature of who he is and what gifts he possesses within him.  My daughter’s labels do not come close to describing her enormous love for others, her creativity, her joy. 

Too many people look just at the labels.  Or they look at the behaviors the labels describe, and they make judgements without expanding their knowledge of the actual person wearing the label.    There was a strong reaction in the special needs community recently to some  negative reviews of the film Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, a story about a nine-year old boy whose father perishes in the 9/11 collapse of the World Trade Center.  Although the book on which the film is based and the film itself never specifically say so, the character displays many behavioral traits that indicate a spectrum disorder – odd speech patterns and tone, difficulty with social interactions, extreme sensory reactions. 

The review that received the most negative response was from David Germain, movie writer for the Associated Press.  His review appeared December 19 at SFGate.com, the online home of the San Francisco Chronicle.  You can read the full article here, but the salient points are the following direct quotes:

”Newcomer Thomas Horn…is a mixed bag, holding his own among the adult actors, but, through no fault of his own, forced to behave with excessive shrillness much of the time.

That’s because his character, Oskar Schell, may or may not have Asperger’s syndrome, a mild form of autism (his medical tests, we’re told, were inconclusive).  You make allowances in life for people you encounter with autism, but spending two hours with a fictional character possessing autistic qualities can be grating.”

And those are the kind of people I dread my kids encountering.  The people who can handle special needs for a few minutes, but lack the compassion or the inclination to “see through” behaviors to the kid inside.  The kind of people who can’t spare five minutes to try and comprehend that a person is more than the rhythm of speech they employ or the pitch and tone of their voice.  

How much of a self-absorbed narcissist do you have to be to find the struggle of a child who has just lost his parent irritating because he doesn’t happen to sound right when he’s speaking?  How little humanity do you have to have left in you to NOT find this kind of story compelling?

Does it take some patience to look past my children’s behaviors?  Often, yes.  But you know what?  It takes patience to be a human being.  Whether you are dealing with people who are differently abled, who have mental health or neurological disorders, who are ill with a terminal or debilitating disease, you ought to be able to have a little patience.  You have to have a little patience to drive through a toll booth or wait in a line at the grocery store.  You need a little patience to cope with an aging parent who isn’t at his best now, but who is still a person you love deeply.  You need patience to try and go anywhere with an absent-minded spouse who can’t find her keys, her coffee cup, her cell phone.  You need patience to make it through a work day with people who are crabby or uncooperative, who didn’t do the things that you asked them to or who made a mistake that cost you time and money.

So even if we end up with another label tomorrow, it won’t change who my son is.  It won’t change the love and respect I have for him.  It won’t change anything but the ways in which we try to help him succeed.  Lets have a little patience for my boy.  Let’s look past his labels to his bright mind and unquenchable spirit.  Lets do that for every child, neurotypical or not, able-bodied or not.  Do it for me.  Do it for you.  For all of us, lest we lose our humanity.

NaBloPoNoMoHuhWha and thoughts on the "obesity problem"

I'm just not going to kill myself writing some piece of crap blog post just so I can say I posted every day. 

I thought about it.  I thought about trying to pass of some piece of brain dead drivel as a "blog post" and simply opted out.  That's not the way I like to do things.

After I spent the day finishing up repainting my dining room and doing a few minor bits of housework (and inadvertently going "WHOOF" every time  I tried to sit down and my thighs reminded me about all the posting in my dressage lesson) I went and I got a haircut and I came home and I sat down and drank a glass of wine and I completely lost the will to move or talk or even think.  I was that kind of tired where your body just wants to curl up in bed and maybe you'll be able to sleep and maybe you won't but every second you insist on staying past horizontal your skin and your eyes and your hair and your feet all scream at you to just crawl between the covers already because you're DONE.

And so I did.

---------

So this stupid sprained ankle has me struggling with feelings of guilt every time I put something in my mouth.  If I'm not running I shouldn't be eating says my shameful self.  Riding your horse and painting your living room don't exactly qualify as "sitting around," interjects my healthy self. 

Those two continue at war, and I continue to watch the battle being waged across magazines and news stories and blogs, the battle over whether being overweight is dangerous or healthy.  I commented on a recent blog post at Jessica Gottlieb's blog wherein Jessica took exception with a photo of a beautiful, albeit very curvy young woman.  Many commenters agreed with her contention that this woman was obese and therefore completely unhealthy.  I disagreed.

Looking at someone's picture tells you virtually nothing about their level of health or fitness.   There are plenty of active people who are also overweight, just as there are a great deal of thin people who are sedentary. 

There was a great interview with author and PhD Linda Bacon in the recent issue of MORE.  Bacon is a physiologist and the author of Health at Every Size.

In the interview, Bacon  contends that the term "obesity epidemic" is misleading.  While it is true that as a whole people in our society are heavier than they have been (at least in the years since we started tracking factors like weight), it is not an "epidemic" by any means, nor is there evidence that being heavier actually poses deadly risk.

She points out that while there is indeed a link between being overweight and developing Type II diabetes, its not a proven fact that being overweight actually causes the diabetes.  Scientifically it is well-known that being insulin resistant causes a person to gain weight.  It is more likely that the insulin resistance, which can have genetic and environmental factors, causes the diabetes and the state of being overweight.  Even so, those leading the charge in the anti-fat movement love to tell everyone how being overweight is causing everyone to become diabetic.    Similary there are associations between other illnesses and weight, but because there is an association between the two doesn't necessarly prove that one causes the other.

Bacon posits that the most dangerous and unhealthy condition is not that of being obese, but that of being sedentary.  In study after study, people who are overweight but active are healthier and live longer.   A 2008 Harvard study found that overweight women who exercised at least 4 days a week have a significantly lower risk of heart disease than people who don't exercise (regardless of weight).    Bacon also refers to studies that show that obese people with cardiovascular disease, kidney disease, hypertension and type 2 diabetes actually live longer than thin people with the same conditions. 

Dieting doesn't work.  People who restrict their calories and lose a lot of weight gain it back when they start eating normally again.  It is only a very small percentage of dieters who actually succeed, and the negative emotional effect of failing at weight loss is causing people to feel disproportionately unhappy.  And for what reason?  Because they don't look like someone else thinks they should?  That's no reason to feel bad. 

I'm not advocating being unhealthy, not by any means.  I see no redeeming value in loading yourself up with junk food and spending all of your time sitting on the couch watching TV or in front of the computer playing games.   But nowhere is it proven that all overweight people are sitting on the sofa twenty-four-seven gorging themselves on potato chips.

What I AM saying is that the shaming of fat people needs to stop.  Nothing is gained by insisting that fat people are unhealthy.  Trying to get people to feel bad about themselves accomplishes nothing except to make the finger-pointers look like judgemental so-and-sos.    I've never been a small person.  I'm tall, for one, and genetically built on the...er..."sturdy" side.  I've been heavy, I've been thin, but at any size, I've felt my very best when I've been physically active.  I can stack two tons of hay, I can cut my own wood, build a chicken coop from scratch and I can carry a 90 pound dog into the vet's office.  I can make a 1500 pound animal back the hell off by simply looking at him and lifting my hand.  I am powerful.  I can polish my toes and put makeup on my face and wear a killer dress and look fabulous.  I am beautiful.  I can do all of this despite the fact that you probably can't count my ribs and I'm inching past the "halfway" mark in my 40's. 

I refuse to feel bad about myself because I don't fit a magazine definition of what beauty is supposed to look like. 

Don't let them fool you into it, either.

 

 

 

Skyrockets in Flight and What I Look For in People

        Image Credit

Yesterday on the brilliant green grass at a local soccer field, against an azure blue sky, we sent rockets into the air.  One, two, three - and then again - and then again.  I've never set off a rocket before.  I can't wait to do it some more.

What kind of man buys rockets and motors and fuses and everything for his girlfriend's kids?  What kind of guy spends time thinking about activities that will enrich his girlfriend's children and get them off the computer and into the outside?  (Its not that I don't think about how to get them outside, but I'm somewhat less...um...creative.  Go outside and playis about as much as I seem to be able to manage.)  What kind of man patiently shows two very sensitive, obstreperous and distractible children how to put the wadding and the parachute and the nose and the motor and the fuse and the plug into their rockets?  MINE does.

The other best part about setting off rockets is having two hyperactive and overstimulated children around to run around and pick up all the parts from where they landed and bring them back to you.  It tires them out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I was thinking a bit about the post I wrote earlier this week about the snobby people at the party who didn't think I was good enough to talk to.  Then I thought about other people at the party who I might not have tried to talk to either, and wondered if that made me just like the people I was sort of lambasting for being rude, self-entitled bastards.  Naturally no one wants to be thought of negatively, part of becoming a mature and self-actualized person is accepting that not everyone you meet is going to like you and you do not have to wrap yourself up in a pretzel trying to make them see just how wonderful you are.  But another part of becoming a mature, self-actualized individual is reviewing how you treat others and determining whether your actions are in line with your core values.  And since I value being treated kindly, is this something I give to others?

 

                    Image Credit

I was at ComiCon'11 in San Diego a couple of weeks ago.  "Crowded" falls woefully short of even beginning to describe the mob scene I encountered there.  The entryways, the escalators, the stairs, the eating lounges, the convention hall floors, the hallways between the session rooms - all were most of the time so shoulder-to-shoulder with people that if a fire had broken out the death toll would have been horrific.  And I like people but I hate crowds.  I hate being jostled and pushed and shoved and unable to easily navigate the fifteen feet between me and the booth I want to visit.  I hate not being able to take a clear picture of anythingbecause there's no way on earth you can make that many people stop walking between your camera lens and the giant Perry the Platypus bus they set up in the pavilion hall.  So when its me and that many people, I'm not bloody likely to be smiling and friendly.  Much, anyway.  But every time I was in line for something or stopped and sitting somewhere, I managed to find someone to talk to.

I like to have someone to talk to.  I don't necessarily want it to be the homeless guy who smells like old booze and possibly urine, but if he's my only choice?  I'll probably talk to him.  If its the girl who got on the plane and sat down next to me looking like Barbie but who is a real-life full-ride-scholarship law student who spent the summer in Croatia, I'll talk to her, even before I figured out that her cover didn't even begin to describe the book inside.  Pretty much if you make eye contact with me and don't throw something at me or rush away with a frown on your face (why do people do that?  Do I look like Quasimodo?), I'll probably at the very least smile at you or say "hi."

Sometimes at parties I have to breathe a little bit and I'll pull back to the outskirts and observe people.  I like to watch what people do in a group, watch the hierarchies develop and figure out what people are like.  Sometimes I'll seek out the person who looks like they're feeling left out or afraid of the crowd and I'll try to engage them.  And other times I'll want to be on the middle of the dance floor or in the center of the conversation with a big group of people.  And when I say "sometimes" I mean in the course of just the one party.  On a day when I'm feeling normal, I'm all over the map. 

But there are times and for certain reasons (I'm stressed out, I'm uncomfortable, I'm not on my game, I don't feel well) when I don't talk to people.  When I feel singled out.  When I'm new and don't know anyone yet.  When I first started working at my current job, I hated walking into the lunchroom when everyone was on break.  I didn't know people's names yet and I'm not good at remembering the ones I've already been told, and I don't like feeling like everyone's trying to figure out who I am without actually talking to me first.  And so I would kind of sneak in, get my water or my hot cocoa or wash my dishes, then leave again without making eye contact with anyone.  And so I imagine that the guys sitting around the table might, without being able to read my mind, get the impression that I was standoffish and cold.  (Four years and four Christmas parties later, they know better.  They've seen me play beer pong and make a fool of myself on the dance floor.)

And I think of the times I've been somewhere and avoided meeting the eyes of the homeless guy begging for change or the soccer team selling candy bars or the guy in the white suite and red hat asking for donations for his religious charity.  And I know I pretended I didn't see them because I didn't want to talk to them.  I don't want to buy whatever they're selling and I don't want to donate money to a group whose objectives I disagree with, and I need the $10 in my wallet because I'm a single mom who is fighting to make ends meet and I wish I could give it to the homeless guy but I can't.  But is that reason enough not to at least look at them and be friendly?  No.  Its not.

I imagine that maybe people who have money get hit up a lot by people they don't really know but who want something from them - a job, a hand up, a loan, a ride in their fancy car.  And I suppose that might make them naturally suspicious about people.  They may meet more people who want something from them than people who are just being friendly.  And maybe they're reacting to me the way I'm reacting to the homeless guy because they don't know me at all and they don't realize that I'm not asking them for anything, I just wanted to be friendly.  But still - just as its not a sufficient excuse for me, I think its not a sufficient excuse for them.  Because we all need to be better not just at being human but at being humane. 

I'm not better than the homeless guy.  I'm more fortunate.  Maybe he's not a nice person, but I don't know that until I meet his gaze and say hello. 

 

 

Better than Who?

  
 

There are social norms we all live by, or which I assume we all live by.  Maybe its because I'm the daughter of a bullshitter that I simply expect that if I'm friendly to you, you'll be friendly back.  There's always a conversation to be enjoyed with people, both new acquaintances and people you've known forever. 

My parents love to enjoy meals and cocktail hour with their friends and neighbors, and whenever I'm spending time at their home, if someone drops by, we all sit and visit.  I consider their friends to be my friends, and their friends' children to be my friends by osmosis.  Its a lot of fun to go visit them at their winter home in Arizona, because they have a great collection of neighbors from all over down there.  If their kids are visiting too, cocktail hour spills out of the living room and out into the street, and its a wonderful cacophony of voices lifted in happy conversation. 

Now, when I called my dad a bullshitter above,  I don't mean in the sense that he lies to people or in the standard definition of the term.  "Bullshitter" is a term I've heard Dad use all my life to describe someone who can talk the paint off the barn, who always has a funny story at the ready, who is naturally gregarious and ready with a firm handshake and a joke to make you laugh.  A bullshitter in the lingo of my Dad is someone who will "stop by for a few minutes" and several hours (and cocktails) later, you're still laughing and talking and saying Oh, did I ever tell you about the time...

Dad says that I'm a bullshitter too, and I guess sometimes I can be.   Although I am not a big fan of crowds, I like small groups and there's not too many people I can't start a conversation with. 

Being raised by a bullshitter and by parents who are fond of social interaction, it naturally followsthat in my world, if I go to someone's home as the significant other of the offspring of one of their very good friends, that my expectation is that we are going to enjoy one another socially, swap stories, eat and drink together and generally have a good time as a group. 

Imagine my suprise, then, at a big gathering at the home of long-time friends of SG's parents, when NOT ONE of their adult children (or their spouses) even said hello to me or to him or to his sister.  Not only would they not speak to us, they wouldn't even LOOK at us. 

It was like we weren't even there.  They were friendly and laughing with their own friends who were present, and maybe a bit with their parents, but my guy and my children and I and anyone else there who wasn't part of their clique?  Were flat ignored.

Maybe its because they have money and they think that makes them different or special, but I've met plenty of people who have money who are so completely enjoyable and unaffected that I'm not sure it can all be chalked up to that single factor.

If having money makes you act like a spoiled, entitled ass, I'll happily stay poor the rest of my life.  Its not that I'm all sad and butt-hurt that they ignored me.  Whatever, they're the ones missing out so far as I'm concerned.  I will say this, though -- if I were at my parents home with a gathering of friends and their families and I treated any one person the way we were treated by these elitist jerks, I guarantee you my folks would have words with me.  Serious words. 

I don't care how much money you have, how much power you have, how blonde you are, how skinny you are, where you get your nails done and whether you drive an Escalade.  None of that means squat.  In the beginning we arrive with nothing and when we leave this world, nothing is what we will take with us.  Its the people that we leave behind and their memories of us that are our legacy.  Its the things we do while we are here that impact others, both good and bad that are the mark we make.  I realize there are people who believe that the more wealthy or famous they are then the more important and better they are.  And of course, they're entitled to believe whatever they wish.  I'm just here to say, you're not better than the rest of us.  Even if you happen to think you are.

Words

They have so much power.

We can use them deliberately or carelessly.  We can choose to be aware of their impact, use them with intent -  to comfort, reassure, or even to hurt and destroy. 

I'm as guilty as the next person.  Sarcasm comes as naturally to me as blinking. I've been told, much to my chagrin, that sarcasm can be abusive when employed as a means of communicating with your partner.  I look back at countless interactions with my ex and think of the times that I allowed myself to carelessly hurt him with my words, not necessarily deliberately, but simply because I didn't pay attention to what I said and how I said it.  When we have been with someone a long time, when we know their strengths and their weaknesses, their hurts, their fears, their hopes and dreams, it is beyond easy to hurt them with our careless words.  I think of times when I used hurtful words in place of talking about my feelings, assuming that striking out was the only way to be heard.  It doesn't matter what your history is; it doesn't even really matter why I'm not good at expressing my feelings or talking about my needs.  What does matter is that the way I approached things not only guaranteed I wouldn't get my needs met, but that I would hurt someone else in the process.

I'm working consciously at being responsible for my words.  Talking to my children instead of issuing orders, giving them words to help illuminate understanding as an alternative to simply getting them to do what I ask without helping them know why.  Asking for what I want in my relationship, but not in a way that implies or assumes I won't get it.  Asking with respect and careful intent. 

A couple of days ago, SG, with my very capable assistance, delivered a load of furniture and household goods to his ex.  He did this at his own expense, because he's just that kind of a good guy.  After two days and 750 miles, I was looking forward, if a little apprehensively, to meeting someone who was an important part of his life.  I was not prepared, though, for the amount of effort it would take for me to bite my tongue for the better part of two hours as the little barbs were continually aimed and set loose. 

"She doesn't mean it."

"Its just the way she is."

"She's joking."

No, she's not joking.  Yes, she does mean it.  And no, its not acceptable.

Their relationship is not my business.  Creating further conflict between them is not something I have any desire or right to do.  But sitting back and simply allowing someone I care deeply about to be verbally trashed in front of me is also something I cannot stomach.  I chose my words carefully.  I am certain she didn't appreciate what I said, but that's not my concern.  I know for certain that S appreciated what I said, and for at least the rest of my stint as day laborer moving another woman's furniture, no more stinging sarcasm was directed at him.

We need to be more careful about how we talk to people.  I watch the level of public discourse slide inexorably into the sewers.  I see a political climate where politicians and pundits no longer debate the issues, they take verbal body shots at their opponents.  I see it in interpersonal relationships, at work and at home, where people take another person's regard, friendship, or love so much for granted that they no longer take any care to consider the words they use and what they mean.

There is always room for camaraderie and joking.  Sarcasm can be really funny - but we need to be careful that we are not using sarcasm to deflect real communication with our partner.  If we have an issue, a resentment, a problem, we need to deal with that in an honest and loving way.   Using backhanded humor isn't a very good way of solving a problem, and in my experience, people stop really hearing you when you abuse them with your words. 

Apropos of nothing, I'm returning home tomorrow from a very lovely drive up the 101 with a most agreeable traveling companion.

In 2007 John Shore posted a blog piece entitled Six Tests to Determine if He's Mr. Right.  In the last six months, we've covered pretty much every one of these with the exception of test #2:  Go on a cross-country drive with him.  We return home tomorrow from taking a leisurely drive up the California and Oregon coastlines, and I can say without hesitation, we've passed with flying colors. 

 

When and why

My mom usually hands me a stack of magazines whenever I stop by.  There's always some article or the other that she thinks I'll find interesting.  Usually she hands me the Atlantic Monthly, Redbook, Good Housekeeping, that sort of thing.  When I stopped by to chitchat after choir practice on Wednesday, though she gave me the May/June copy of AARP. 

She knew I would find this confusing, so she quickly pointed out the cover photo and article - a piece on Amy Grant and Vince Gill.  Oooh, thanks mom!

I became an instant fan of Amy Grant when i was a sophomore in college.  Somebody had a tape of The Collection (remember tapes!  And having a Walkman!  Damn, I'm old) and she hooked me from the start.  Its not that she had this amazing vocal range or these deep and twisty lyrics, or even that she looked like this glamorous superstar.  It was all of the opposite that drew me - her voice was lovely and just this side of untrained, her lyrics were simple and down to earth and so was she.   There has always been an emotional framework in the songs she performs that says "I have the same challenges and fears and joys that you do, let me sing to you about them." 

It wasn't necessarily as a Christian artist that she appealed to me.  It was just her and the way that she sang.  It wasn't just that she sang Jesus songs - she did, sure, but she also sang songs about life and about feeling insecure and lonely and silly and happy.  I could relate.

I was lucky enough over the years to see her in concert a few times, and she's one of those artists who sounds just the same live as she does on her albums.  I thinks she's been lucky to work with some really smart producers who wisely chose not to overprocess her voice and just let who she really is shine through her work.

Maybe her crossover pop was a little sugary and sweet, but I think there's a place in this world for music that speaks to the simple things of love and family and all the connections innate to being a woman - daughter, sister, partner, parent.  In her music and in her interviews I always took away the feeling that she truly loved people just as they were, no matter who they were, and accepted them exactly where they are.  Of course, the enormous amount of money and talent and time she has given to charity over the years speaks volumes to her deep compassion for others.

When Amy and Gary split in 1998 I was also going through a divorce.  When she married Vince(with whom it was clear to anyone with eyeballs that saw the "making of" House of Love video she was deeply in love), I was also marrying my second husband.  When she was pregnant with Corrina, I was pregnant with my daughter.  I, too had endured the shaming and blaming that happens when marriages end and had left a church because of it; I empathized deeply with what it must have felt like for her to have that scrutiny amplified infinitely, a Christian artist getting divorced in front of the prying eyes of the world. 

I loved the article and the interview. I'm truly happy that Amy and Vince are still together, still in love.  Its hard, I know this, when you marry a person and you intend it to be forever and things go wrong and you realize at some point that its not going to work. Its wonderful when you find the person with whom you have a deep, loving and spiritual connection, who accepts you where you are and loves you unconditionally.

After I finished reading the article I thought about so much of what had been written about Amy and Vince and their respective first marriages/divorces.  As I often do when something crosses my mind, I hit my search engine and Googled a few articles.

I came across an article by Wendy Zoba written back in 2000 for Christianity Today.  The entire tone of the article was at best dubious about whether Amy had done the right thing by divorcing Gary Chapman.  Zoba wrote:

"Anyone who has persevered in marriage will attest that in deed there are moments of "enjoying to the fullest," but that often attends many tedious, sometimes painful, stretches. The best premarital advice I received came from our pastor's wife: "There are going to be times when you'll hate each other's guts." Those moments have been few and far between, but when they have occurred, my husband and I recognized this was normal and would pass."

This is just so offensive to me.

Not that Zoba and her husband are fortunate enough to have the kind of marriage where the rocky times are few and far between.  Not..not at all that.  What chokes me is the assumption that she makes that Amy and Gary's relationship was just like hers.

Now, I don't know that it was or wasn't.  But neither does Wendy Zoba.  Neither does any other person who has pointed a judgmental finger at someone else for getting a divorce.

If two people are so fortunate as to have a marriage where the times they "hate each other's guts" are few and far between and that they mutually recognized that the bad time would pass, then of course I wouldn't expect to see them tripping over each other's feet in the race to find a divorce attorney.

But comparing her own relationship to the relationship between Amy and Gary, which by many accounts was troubled for years, or to the relationship of anyone who has sought a divorce for entirely legitimate reasons, if this is the basis on which she's concluding that people ought to stay together, no matter what, then I cry "foul."

I know a lot of people feel like marriage is supposed to be forever, that you're supposed to stick it out for eternity except in cases of infidelity or abuse.  But I simply can't accept that as the case.

A marriage - or any sort of love partnership for that matter - is supposed to be a bond where the people in the relationship are both bettered by being with their partner more of the time than they are not.  Every relationship, even those where a couple is starry-eyed smitten after years and years together, still has its rocky times.  I've never personally met anyone who has been with their partner for a number of years who has never had a disagreement.  But those couples, even though they've had a fight here and there, or even overcome a very serious issue, the relationship they shared contained more positive than negative, more good than bad, more light than dark. 

But what happens when that's not the case?  Is it really correct to tell people whose relationship brings them nothing but heartache and anger that they must stay married, no matter what?  Can any therapist or minister truly counsel a couple who have spent years fighting, pulling each other down, whose love styles and personalities, beliefs or opinions are truly antithetical that they must stay together?   What good does that do for anyone? 

While other people might have opinions about why my marriage ended, only my ex and I know the whole truth of it.  We were the ones living it, struggling with it day by day. 

Its not that I don't think marriage is important or not to be taken seriously.  Of course it is. But I think people need to be careful when making assumptions about what goes on behind the closed doors of other peoples' lives.  Don't be so hasty to judge.  Most people don't tell you the whole truth, we are taught from early on not to tell the family secrets, to minimize things, to keep what is private, private.  I have been surprised many times by finding out someone was being physically abused or that someone was being cheated on, or even that people who seemed really happy whenever they were around friends and family actually had screaming fights constantly when they were home alone together. The announcement of their divorce was shocking, because nobody knew there was anything wrong.

Ultimately, I don't think its healthy for anyone to stay in a relationship that makes them miserable.  There is no growth in that, there is nothing about it that makes you a better human being, a better parent, or closer to God.  Sometimes the best that can be done is to accept that something is not working and do your best to carefully pick up the pieces and go forward, toward a happier future.