I often wonder how people can be marginalized, oppressed, abused so openly and without shame. I'm not sure why I wonder, because the truth is I already...we already know the answer.
Almost every one of us, as a professor once lectured, is a "they." We each belong to some group of people, whether it be women, a socioeconomic status, a religion, a race, a nationality...Each group is considered a "they" by some other group of "they." When we can look at our fellow human beings as "they" they can begin to appear less human, less like us (because we only focus on the differences) and it becomes easier to hate, to torture, to kill. The "object" of the hate is seen as inhuman and can be dealt with in the absence of guilt. It's easier to divide people into different groups of "they" because then we can forget that this is someone's child, someone's father, or mother, someones friend or teacher, instead "they" become objects, something so distant from ourselves that it is easier to justify hate.
Dividing people into groups of "they" allowed genocide in Armenia, Rwanda and Dar fur. It resulted in the Holocaust and social Darwinism and forced sterilization and experimentation like Tuskegee or the TB studies. The idea of "they" resulted in religious persecution around the globe, the Spanish Inquisition, Bloody Mary's reign of terror over protestants, The Crusades...the list goes on and on, it has happened for centuries. One would think that we might have learned from Histories lessons, yet "they" are still as present today as in the Old Testament.
If you think of any people as "they" and think in stereotypes or hate, I challenge you! Have a conversation with one of "they," look "they" in the eyes and hear about a family not so different from your own, or beliefs more similar than different."They" might start to look more like one of "we," for WE are all part of a human family, WE all bleed, love, learn and hurt. WE are all made the same, WE are all fabulous, WE are One!
If all else fails, remember the golden rule..."Do unto others"...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Accentuate the positive
As a full time working mother and full time student, it is easy to get lost in the many things I have to do. Not only do I work full time, but my work is also my passion, so it is often at the forefront of my mind, or something will suddenly occur to me and I have to act at that moment. I act at that moment partly because I get excited and can't wait to put my thoughts into action, and partly because if I don't do it then, the momentum will be lost as I move on to the next thing, or I'll forget to do it at all (again, busy life). I am also quite the "nerd" as my son calls me, and love to learn but am also a perfectionist (for those of you who would lecture me right now, stop, you don't have to-I know it's not THAT important-but I just can't seem to help it!) so I won't accept any grade less than A. This of course means that I work long and hard on my school work, but I truly believe that anything worth doing is worth doing 110%
In all that busy work, passion and pure adrenaline it would be easy for me to lose sight of my most precious gift, my children and family. I admit when I walk in the door I sometimes need to decompress for a moment, but at some point I switch gears and it becomes more about them. (I will admit that I sometimes steal a moment to read and respond to my work e-mail-but honest I only do it in ten minute increments). My kids are amazing! they are also infuriating at times, my oldest two fight on a continuous basis, and whoever said son's are easier than daughters has obviously not met my son! I worry, I worry often that I am not doing my best, that I might fail my children, that people will think I'm a bad mother. I worry that I'm not good enough for my children. I work to let these thoughts go as soon as they appear, but it seems that this is what most parents do. At these times I remember that it would be easy to focus on the "bad," each mistake and every call from the school, but I'd rather focus on the good, and enjoy each little moment I get with my kids.
I have seen parents who speak to their kids only when they are offering reprimands, I know it's not that they don't love their children, they are simply living with the same pressures as everyone else, and it's hard to focus on the positive when there is so much work to be done to raise "good" people. To raise "good" people, we should start with respecting them the way we wish them to respect us, not in a "respect my authoritay" way(south park fans will get that reference), but respecting the fact that although our children are not yet adults, they are still human beings with emotions, and yes, opinions. The next thing is to focus on the positive, give hugs for the good and let the bad go whenever we can!
My daughter, Savannah who is nine was out playing a few weeks ago. Usually I ask that she be in at 7:30 on a school night as I think rest is important for everyone, but especially children. We have to do baths and snacks, comb hair, pack lunches, prepare for the day to come...it can be a lengthy process. Well, on this night I already had my youngest in the tub and we were laughing as she splashed and played, and I knew Savannah was outside enjoying the evening with her friends in our backyard, so it was about 7:41 before her step dad called her in. Now often when I ask my kids to come inside, I am met with grunts and groans "aw mommy, just five more minutes?" They always come begrudgingly but come inside non the less. Well on this evening Savannah hurried inside, looked at the clock and came directly to me saying "Mommy, thank you so much for letting me stay out until 7:41!" ( That's why I remember the time). She thanked me for an extra 16 minutes, I hadn't even knowingly given her the extra 16 minutes, yet she was grateful for them! She focused on the good, not the fact that the neighborhood kids were still playing in our backyard, not the fact that she had to come in, yet again, before anyone else. She was focused merely on the fact that she had been given extra time outside. I think I hugged her for ten minutes, I was so grateful at that moment for her and her expression of gratitude, and I realized that she does this a lot, there is so much more positive in our days together than anything else, and that's what I choose to acknowledge, for all of my kids (and my own sanity).
So, like the old song says "You've got AC-CENT-UATE the positive!"
In all that busy work, passion and pure adrenaline it would be easy for me to lose sight of my most precious gift, my children and family. I admit when I walk in the door I sometimes need to decompress for a moment, but at some point I switch gears and it becomes more about them. (I will admit that I sometimes steal a moment to read and respond to my work e-mail-but honest I only do it in ten minute increments). My kids are amazing! they are also infuriating at times, my oldest two fight on a continuous basis, and whoever said son's are easier than daughters has obviously not met my son! I worry, I worry often that I am not doing my best, that I might fail my children, that people will think I'm a bad mother. I worry that I'm not good enough for my children. I work to let these thoughts go as soon as they appear, but it seems that this is what most parents do. At these times I remember that it would be easy to focus on the "bad," each mistake and every call from the school, but I'd rather focus on the good, and enjoy each little moment I get with my kids.
I have seen parents who speak to their kids only when they are offering reprimands, I know it's not that they don't love their children, they are simply living with the same pressures as everyone else, and it's hard to focus on the positive when there is so much work to be done to raise "good" people. To raise "good" people, we should start with respecting them the way we wish them to respect us, not in a "respect my authoritay" way(south park fans will get that reference), but respecting the fact that although our children are not yet adults, they are still human beings with emotions, and yes, opinions. The next thing is to focus on the positive, give hugs for the good and let the bad go whenever we can!
My daughter, Savannah who is nine was out playing a few weeks ago. Usually I ask that she be in at 7:30 on a school night as I think rest is important for everyone, but especially children. We have to do baths and snacks, comb hair, pack lunches, prepare for the day to come...it can be a lengthy process. Well, on this night I already had my youngest in the tub and we were laughing as she splashed and played, and I knew Savannah was outside enjoying the evening with her friends in our backyard, so it was about 7:41 before her step dad called her in. Now often when I ask my kids to come inside, I am met with grunts and groans "aw mommy, just five more minutes?" They always come begrudgingly but come inside non the less. Well on this evening Savannah hurried inside, looked at the clock and came directly to me saying "Mommy, thank you so much for letting me stay out until 7:41!" ( That's why I remember the time). She thanked me for an extra 16 minutes, I hadn't even knowingly given her the extra 16 minutes, yet she was grateful for them! She focused on the good, not the fact that the neighborhood kids were still playing in our backyard, not the fact that she had to come in, yet again, before anyone else. She was focused merely on the fact that she had been given extra time outside. I think I hugged her for ten minutes, I was so grateful at that moment for her and her expression of gratitude, and I realized that she does this a lot, there is so much more positive in our days together than anything else, and that's what I choose to acknowledge, for all of my kids (and my own sanity).
So, like the old song says "You've got AC-CENT-UATE the positive!"
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Apples
Yesterday I blogged about people with disabilities and victimization and the stigmatization and violence committed against people with mental health disorders, at about the same time that I was writing that blog an act of violence was being committed against a High School student with a disability. The incident occurred in Beaver County, Pa.
The news broke last night on a local station. Apparently a 17 year old beat the other student until he gave the teen a concussion, causing him to lose consciousness. The beating took place on the school bus and other students captured this horrific act of violence with the video recorders on their cell phones. At this point there is speculation that fellow students on the bus were taking bets on who would "win" the fight. From seeing the video that was played on the news it is apparent that "fight" is not the accurate word, the student who was beaten was in his seat the entire time and the only thing he did in response was to reach up defensively to protect himself, he never once struck the other teen who mercilessly beat him around the head and torso. Also apparent on the video clip is the fact no one intervened, everyone just watched as if for sport, many cheered the violence on.
Incidents such as this continue to point to the lack of respect that our communities have for every member. When things like this happen, the responsibility falls on all of us to make sure it doesn't happen again. We are responsible for considering our own attitudes and the attitudes we share with our children and community. We are responsible, every last one of us! Let's stop this violence. Obviously school aged children and probably many of their parents still see people with disabilities as "less than." It's evident in the vernacular people use. The "r" word (which I refuse to write or speak and is banned from my home and children's mouths) is used on a routine basis by kids and adults alike, people joke about the "short bus" and tease others by implying they are "disabled" in some way. WE ARE THE DISABLED ONES! Disabled by the lack of ability to see other people as full human beings, disabled by our discomfort with people of all abilities in our neighborhoods and schools. People can say all they want that incidents like this point to "decaying youth" but the truth is, it's not just our youth, where did they learn this hate? Where did they learn this disrespect? Where did they learn to discriminate?
...you know what they say about where the apples fall.
The news broke last night on a local station. Apparently a 17 year old beat the other student until he gave the teen a concussion, causing him to lose consciousness. The beating took place on the school bus and other students captured this horrific act of violence with the video recorders on their cell phones. At this point there is speculation that fellow students on the bus were taking bets on who would "win" the fight. From seeing the video that was played on the news it is apparent that "fight" is not the accurate word, the student who was beaten was in his seat the entire time and the only thing he did in response was to reach up defensively to protect himself, he never once struck the other teen who mercilessly beat him around the head and torso. Also apparent on the video clip is the fact no one intervened, everyone just watched as if for sport, many cheered the violence on.
Incidents such as this continue to point to the lack of respect that our communities have for every member. When things like this happen, the responsibility falls on all of us to make sure it doesn't happen again. We are responsible for considering our own attitudes and the attitudes we share with our children and community. We are responsible, every last one of us! Let's stop this violence. Obviously school aged children and probably many of their parents still see people with disabilities as "less than." It's evident in the vernacular people use. The "r" word (which I refuse to write or speak and is banned from my home and children's mouths) is used on a routine basis by kids and adults alike, people joke about the "short bus" and tease others by implying they are "disabled" in some way. WE ARE THE DISABLED ONES! Disabled by the lack of ability to see other people as full human beings, disabled by our discomfort with people of all abilities in our neighborhoods and schools. People can say all they want that incidents like this point to "decaying youth" but the truth is, it's not just our youth, where did they learn this hate? Where did they learn this disrespect? Where did they learn to discriminate?
...you know what they say about where the apples fall.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Monsters
Approximately 20% of the U.S. population has a disability and represent the largest minority (and most openly oppressed).
68% of children with disabilities are victims of sexual violence and 32% victims of physical violence.
Indications reveal that 90% of people with developmental disabilities will be victimized by sexual violence at some point during their life, 40% experience 10 or more incidents.
15,000-19,000 people with developmental disabilities are raped each year.
Twice the rate of women with disabilities (compared to non-disabled women), 67% experienced lifetime physical violence and 53% experience lifetime sexual violence.
The above noted statistics are considered to be just the “tip of the iceberg” given that victimization is severely underreported.
People with mental illness are 2 1/2 times more likely to be “attacked, raped or mugged” than the general population.
Women with mental illness who are homeless are raped so frequently that according to several reports; it is seen as “normal.”
People with mental health disorders are depicted as violent so regularly by the media that images of “the hockey mask” has become “a symbol of dangerousness and insanity” with no basis in reality. The media, novels, movies and primetime shows (which often portray “mental cases” committing violent crimes), increase and promote the stigma which is attached to mental illness yet has no bearing in reality. For example “On television, 45 percent of all characters are violent, compared with 72% of the characters with mental illness-including women…mental illness is the only label on TV that renders women as violent as men.” (According to George Gerbner, Ph.D.)
The truth is that suicide outnumbers homicide in the U.S. as the 11th leading cause of death. Each year over 30,000 people in the U.S. commit suicide, more than 90% of them are believed to have a diagnosable mental disorder.
Check your assumptions…We are the dangerous ones!
68% of children with disabilities are victims of sexual violence and 32% victims of physical violence.
Indications reveal that 90% of people with developmental disabilities will be victimized by sexual violence at some point during their life, 40% experience 10 or more incidents.
15,000-19,000 people with developmental disabilities are raped each year.
Twice the rate of women with disabilities (compared to non-disabled women), 67% experienced lifetime physical violence and 53% experience lifetime sexual violence.
The above noted statistics are considered to be just the “tip of the iceberg” given that victimization is severely underreported.
People with mental illness are 2 1/2 times more likely to be “attacked, raped or mugged” than the general population.
Women with mental illness who are homeless are raped so frequently that according to several reports; it is seen as “normal.”
People with mental health disorders are depicted as violent so regularly by the media that images of “the hockey mask” has become “a symbol of dangerousness and insanity” with no basis in reality. The media, novels, movies and primetime shows (which often portray “mental cases” committing violent crimes), increase and promote the stigma which is attached to mental illness yet has no bearing in reality. For example “On television, 45 percent of all characters are violent, compared with 72% of the characters with mental illness-including women…mental illness is the only label on TV that renders women as violent as men.” (According to George Gerbner, Ph.D.)
The truth is that suicide outnumbers homicide in the U.S. as the 11th leading cause of death. Each year over 30,000 people in the U.S. commit suicide, more than 90% of them are believed to have a diagnosable mental disorder.
Check your assumptions…We are the dangerous ones!
Monday, April 21, 2008
Phoenix
As human being's, almost every one of us has endured a life-changing event. Not just the happy events like marriage or the birth of a child, but also the events that we tuck away, too painful to bear. Many people who have survived these events, often at the hands of another human being, struggle with the impact daily. For some it haunts them wherever they go. There are others who have also survived, and sprung forth from the ashes to create some meaning out of the suffering. Most people keep living, because they have to, that's also part of being human...the sheer desire to live.
I have met people and heard their stories and wondered how they went on, people who have been tortured at the hands of those who were meant to love or protect them, people who were subjected to unimaginable cruelty just because they were seen as different or weak or "less than." I have heard stories that make me want to crawl into a dark place and cry, yet the people who own these stories keep going, keep fighting. They stand up for their freedom, for their right to a life just like anyone else. I watch in wonder and awe, how is it that people can be so resilient? How is it that a person can still greet me with a hug, a smile, a laugh, love in their eyes when they have seen the darkest side of humanity?
This, as incredible as it seems, is part of the beauty of life. Others can strip us of everything, they can show us a cruelty we never knew existed and try to take away dignity, innocence and even life...but we have a choice. Victor Frankl wrote of it in "Man's Search for Meaning," the choice we can make to go on, keep fighting and find the meaning in it all, or to allow the cruelty to swallow us. I see people every day who have risen victorious, who are truly survivors because they made the choice to go on, to make the world a better place, to not give in to hate and vengeance.
We can't touch it, taste, or hold it, but the human spirit is one of the most powerful forces to which we will ever bear witness! I am so grateful that I have, I am so grateful for the lesson, and I am so grateful to every survivor for not giving up and making the world a better place.
Soar!
I have met people and heard their stories and wondered how they went on, people who have been tortured at the hands of those who were meant to love or protect them, people who were subjected to unimaginable cruelty just because they were seen as different or weak or "less than." I have heard stories that make me want to crawl into a dark place and cry, yet the people who own these stories keep going, keep fighting. They stand up for their freedom, for their right to a life just like anyone else. I watch in wonder and awe, how is it that people can be so resilient? How is it that a person can still greet me with a hug, a smile, a laugh, love in their eyes when they have seen the darkest side of humanity?
This, as incredible as it seems, is part of the beauty of life. Others can strip us of everything, they can show us a cruelty we never knew existed and try to take away dignity, innocence and even life...but we have a choice. Victor Frankl wrote of it in "Man's Search for Meaning," the choice we can make to go on, keep fighting and find the meaning in it all, or to allow the cruelty to swallow us. I see people every day who have risen victorious, who are truly survivors because they made the choice to go on, to make the world a better place, to not give in to hate and vengeance.
We can't touch it, taste, or hold it, but the human spirit is one of the most powerful forces to which we will ever bear witness! I am so grateful that I have, I am so grateful for the lesson, and I am so grateful to every survivor for not giving up and making the world a better place.
Soar!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Flowers
This morning I went to Church. I am fairly new there, as I hadn't been to any church in a long time. As a teenager I professed myself to be an atheist, but at various other times in my life I have found myself "church searching" as I have come to call it. I have always wanted to be part of a church community and although as a teenager I professed myself an atheist I was just struggling with spirituality and what God really meant to me. During that time my whole argument that there was no God was that if there was, why was there so much suffering? I later realized that much of the suffering was man made. When I did venture to various churches I struggled with the amount of hate I heard. The words uttered from some of the most "devout" (they called themselves that) were often of hatred and superiority, and I just didn't see God that way. Long story short, after recently writing a spiritual journey paper for a theological class I was taking I decided to give it another shot. I have found myself within the church of my upbringing. Being born in England I was part of the Church of England, and when I decided to return to church I felt that maybe I should start where I began, so I now find myself at an Episcopal church. I do still hear some hate, but have chosen not to "throw out the baby with bath water."
Part of my desire for church is of course to satisfy my own spirituality, and to also enjoy a sense of community. I'm still pretty much a stranger to everyone there but do what I can to get involved. Today, our Deacon Ruth asked if anyone could deliver some flowers today. When no one spoke up, for some reason I volunteered. Ruth had to ask my name (like I said, still a stranger), but gave me instruction as to where to take the flowers.
My youngest daughter and I made our way to the address on the card to deliver the flowers to Louise. When we arrived it took her a while to answer the door, but when she did her face lit up and immediately she invited us inside. She talked about how lovely some of the flowers were that were sent from the church, and then just sat and chatted. I learned that Louise really can not make it to Church any longer due to macular degeneration and other difficulties. I know she couldn't really see my face, but she smiled at me non the less and delighted my daughter with tales of the various nick-knacks she had in her home. She offered several to my daughter who has now proudly displayed them in her room. Louise told me some fascinating stories about her life, her many travels and people she had known, I was entranced, I wondered what she was like when she was younger and about all the people she had known. She talked about the things she still does now, regular trips to the museum when she is able, and nieces who make regular visits. She was frustrated by the things she can't do so well on her own, but it is pretty clear that she's still out there, living, enjoying every moment that she can. When I first arrived at her house I thought I was just dropping off flowers, but I have come away with gifts for myself. She shared the gift of her stories, her warmth and her wisdom and I feel I have made a friend whom I cannot wait to see again. This is why I came to church, to know people, connect with them, to be helpful and to share a spiritual journey...
...I thought I was just delivering flowers...You should try it sometime.
Part of my desire for church is of course to satisfy my own spirituality, and to also enjoy a sense of community. I'm still pretty much a stranger to everyone there but do what I can to get involved. Today, our Deacon Ruth asked if anyone could deliver some flowers today. When no one spoke up, for some reason I volunteered. Ruth had to ask my name (like I said, still a stranger), but gave me instruction as to where to take the flowers.
My youngest daughter and I made our way to the address on the card to deliver the flowers to Louise. When we arrived it took her a while to answer the door, but when she did her face lit up and immediately she invited us inside. She talked about how lovely some of the flowers were that were sent from the church, and then just sat and chatted. I learned that Louise really can not make it to Church any longer due to macular degeneration and other difficulties. I know she couldn't really see my face, but she smiled at me non the less and delighted my daughter with tales of the various nick-knacks she had in her home. She offered several to my daughter who has now proudly displayed them in her room. Louise told me some fascinating stories about her life, her many travels and people she had known, I was entranced, I wondered what she was like when she was younger and about all the people she had known. She talked about the things she still does now, regular trips to the museum when she is able, and nieces who make regular visits. She was frustrated by the things she can't do so well on her own, but it is pretty clear that she's still out there, living, enjoying every moment that she can. When I first arrived at her house I thought I was just dropping off flowers, but I have come away with gifts for myself. She shared the gift of her stories, her warmth and her wisdom and I feel I have made a friend whom I cannot wait to see again. This is why I came to church, to know people, connect with them, to be helpful and to share a spiritual journey...
...I thought I was just delivering flowers...You should try it sometime.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Live fast...
Yesterday I was in my car for over 6 hours. I had spent most of my week in the car and by yesterday I was exhausted, I was about two hours into my trip to Harrisburg when I called our office to whine for five minutes. The truth is I was headed toward a meeting that I love going to, I was just wishing that I could somehow magically teleport myself and cut out the commute.
Just when I was contemplating driving a little faster, I saw a billboard for Sheetz. It had some picture of food on it and said "Live Fast. Eat Well." First of all, I'd like to point out that while the food at Sheetz is great in a pinch, calling it eating well is a stretch...but I digress. Upon seeing the sign, I thought about what it means to "live fast." In today's age it seems we are all doing it, buzzing from one thing to the next (unable to take the time to eat quality food), and missing a lot as we do so. I suddenly got an image of what living fast might look like. It was me on Rollerblades careening down a hill screaming and reaching the bottom tattered, torn and bloody (not fabulous!). Then I contemplated living slow. The image was me playing in a meadow with my children, laughing, smelling flowers and enjoying the sunshine (I'd also like to add that in this image I looked much more fabulous, in fact almost angelic).
After pondering both images I remembered why I usually like the long drives, peace, tranquility, an opportunity to listen to whatever I want on the radio (no 11 year old asking for rap, or a 9 year old insisting on "bubble gum pop" ), and the chance to observe the beauty around me. Instead of driving faster, I slowed a little, relished the sound of Ravel and paid attention to the small farm houses I passed and the incredible view of rolling hills. The rest of the drive was lovely.
Living fast sounds good and in today's age it's almost the expected thing, but living fast really means not taking the time to enjoy a moment. Life is made up of small moments, it's not about the next big thing, it's all the little ones, making mud pies with your kids, laughing while hanging curtains, making lasagna with someone you love. These are the moments we should relish, life is fleeting don't speed it up, take time to soak it all in!
So, if you're barrelling down that hill on Rollerblades, I urge you, direct your body toward the closest bush to break your fall and run to the nearest meadow! Besides, you really have to see just how angelic I do look surrounded by all these flowers...the kids are cute too.
Just when I was contemplating driving a little faster, I saw a billboard for Sheetz. It had some picture of food on it and said "Live Fast. Eat Well." First of all, I'd like to point out that while the food at Sheetz is great in a pinch, calling it eating well is a stretch...but I digress. Upon seeing the sign, I thought about what it means to "live fast." In today's age it seems we are all doing it, buzzing from one thing to the next (unable to take the time to eat quality food), and missing a lot as we do so. I suddenly got an image of what living fast might look like. It was me on Rollerblades careening down a hill screaming and reaching the bottom tattered, torn and bloody (not fabulous!). Then I contemplated living slow. The image was me playing in a meadow with my children, laughing, smelling flowers and enjoying the sunshine (I'd also like to add that in this image I looked much more fabulous, in fact almost angelic).
After pondering both images I remembered why I usually like the long drives, peace, tranquility, an opportunity to listen to whatever I want on the radio (no 11 year old asking for rap, or a 9 year old insisting on "bubble gum pop" ), and the chance to observe the beauty around me. Instead of driving faster, I slowed a little, relished the sound of Ravel and paid attention to the small farm houses I passed and the incredible view of rolling hills. The rest of the drive was lovely.
Living fast sounds good and in today's age it's almost the expected thing, but living fast really means not taking the time to enjoy a moment. Life is made up of small moments, it's not about the next big thing, it's all the little ones, making mud pies with your kids, laughing while hanging curtains, making lasagna with someone you love. These are the moments we should relish, life is fleeting don't speed it up, take time to soak it all in!
So, if you're barrelling down that hill on Rollerblades, I urge you, direct your body toward the closest bush to break your fall and run to the nearest meadow! Besides, you really have to see just how angelic I do look surrounded by all these flowers...the kids are cute too.
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