Squandering the Gift of Free Speech (A Soap Box Post. Sorry. :( )

I am posting this at the risk of alienating some people who matter to me.  However, I think the ones who matter most will get it and are smart enough to care.  It may come across as naïve or pompous or arrogant, but it is truly from my heart.

I know many good, kind and generous people.  People who love and honor their spouses.  People who have been proud and loving parents.  People who have a deep devotion to their church and to their God.  People who are generous to charities, committed to protecting the environment and are nice to animals.

With the presidential election looming, these same people, people I ordinarily like and sometimes admire and occasionally am related to, are frequently posting things like this on Facebook (I have not changed spelling or punctuation):

•  Cartoons depicting the President being pulled over in Arizona with an officer demanding birth certificate and proof of citizenship.

•   “Somewhere in Kenya a village is missing it’s idiot.”

• A condemnation of Michelle Obama for buying a snack apple pie.

• An accusation that President Obama does not attend church.

• Direct quote: “note to self - do not discuss, debate, or simply point out something to a liberal. they just can't comprehend. always was always will be.”

• Anti-gay rhetoric and virulent anti-Obama, anti-Democrat and anti-‘liberal’ rhetoric. And this same person also posted a picture that says “Karma: what goes around comes around/Keep your circle positive / Say good words, Think good thoughts, Do good deeds”  She clearly does not recognize the irony.  (emphasis mine)

• This is also the person who has flat out stated: “I will not be voting for Obama and I will begin posting why. If you like President Obama and plan on voting for him, please delete yourself from my page OR remain silent. Any negative comments or offensive posts will be deleted, so will the offender who posted them.” (emphasis mine)

•   Calling the First Lady of the United States “Moochelle” “…because she is a cow.”  And getting numerous “likes” and “lol’s”. 

• A picture of a dog with the saying “I don’t always pee on political yard signs but when I do they say Obama.”  We are talking about the President of the United States here.  Figuratively urinating on the President of the United States.

• A picture of Monica Lewinsky with a saying about Democrats that is so vulgar I refuse to repeat it.

•   “The Obama Value Meal, order anything you want and the guy behind you has to pay for it.”  Attributed to Conan O’Brian, but that is not correct, he never made this ‘joke’. (Verified with Snopes.)

• Sneering references to the ‘scum’ on Medicaid, lazy slobs taking handouts while these upright, hardworking citizens have to carry them on their backs.  They apparently forget that I, their friend &/or relative, a person who worked hard my whole life, am now a disabled Medicaid recipient.  And that they could become the same in a millisecond.

Reading these things is painful and embarrassing.  To me, these are prime examples of what is wrong with our current political process and why I despair of any solution.  People are not concerned citizens.  They are rage-filled, hate-spewing, knee-jerk responding citizens.   It is one thing to state your opinion about political issues, using facts, and alternately being open to someone else’s perspective.  It is quite another to state it is your way or the highway and then spout half-truths to flat out lies and not bother, or care, to find out what the facts are. 

I was not a fan of George W. Bush, to say the least.  And I was not shy about saying so.  But I would never have endorsed a laughing reference to a dog urinating on his name, and by extension, him.  I would never have referred to Laura Bush as a ‘cow’.  I respected her as a dignified, educated woman who was devoted to her family.  Exactly like Michelle Obama. 

Many of these Facebook criticisms are distorted factoids.  The Obamas go to church.  Perhaps not every Sunday, but neither do a lot of otherwise very good people.  There are numerous images of them attending services at the beautiful St. John’s Episcopal Church, which is right behind the White House.  They have worshipped in other churches as well.

President Obama has a valid birth certificate and is a legitimate citizen of this country.  His birth announcement was  in several Hawaiian papers when he was born.  Do people really think a conspiracy could stretch back that far and be that widespread?  Come on.  Consider it from this base but true perspective: people are blabbermouths.  A secret like that would be just too juicy to keep.

There are many more such mis-statements or attributions.  But my main point here is the lack of civility, the absence of reasonable, objective consideration.  It is bad enough to lump all Republicans or Democrats into labeled cubbyholes, leaving no room for compromise or discussion.  But to belittle people who hold high office, and doing the same to their unfortunate families, is simply unproductive disrespect.

I am no saint.  Search my blogs and Facebook pages and you might find the occasional snide political remark.  But I have become more uncomfortably aware that it is too easy to turn the tables on that sort of commentary, too easy to have it turned back on you.   Because they are cheap shots.  And I have become increasingly dismayed by the ugliness of the messages, on both sides, and the unfairness of them.  Especially, now, for me, the cracks about lazy, greedy recipients of Federal benefits.  

It is an important part of the democratic process to be openly critical when needed.  I do want politicians called on their actions.  Or inactions.  But called respectfully.  I want civil dialogue, not tit-for-tat sniping.  I want responsibility and caring for the future of America.  It is going to be an expensive future, without a doubt.  Being the best comes at a price.  But cost does not have to be financial hemorrhage.  Bipartisan, rational oversight of government programs can achieve responsible spending.   

Why is everyone not demanding an end to the name calling, the mocking, the blame?  It distracts us from the true issues.  Michelle Obama ate an apple snack pie?  Ok, she is a champion of healthy eating and reducing child obesity.  But what was probably a 150 calorie snack was newsworthy?  It is shameful that non-incident was a focus instead of, say, profiling the Affordable Care Act, examining what parts work well and how it might be improved to make it a law that is not simply humane, but truly fiscally responsible.  There are a lot of smart people out there.  Imagine what could be accomplished if there was cooperation.  Instead, we have perpetual log jams of hostility over almost every problem facing our country.  Self-interest rules. The focus is on being right, not doing right.

Hannah Arendt called it the banality of evil.  Ordinary people who are ordinarily good can be capable of incredible hatred and dangerous, contagious animosity.  We have to get it together, America, with together being the operative word.   Will reason ever prevail?  Can anyone appreciate the power and dignity of respect anymore?  Civil discourse is our only hope for action that will benefit all Americans.  I am so afraid we are never going to get there.

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Goodbye Nora. Thanks for Everything.

I loved Nora Ephron’s work.  She had such a gift for finding universal humor in mundane encounters.  Her sense of romanticism was so seductive, if unrealistic.  We bought it because we wanted to.  She ripped our hearts out when she discovered her husband’s infidelity.  She raised our hopes that someday we would meet our own Harry and have what she was having.

I was so sad when her death at the age of 71 was announced this week.  But the accolades from her friends were so touching, so warm that it was almost a pleasure to read her obituary.  Now I know it was pretty unlikely that someone was going to say to The Times “She was a total cow and I couldn’t stand her.”  But still, if I receive even a fraction of that kind of praise when I go, I will be a happy corpse.

In her book “I Remember Nothing”, she wrote lists of things she would miss and things she wouldn’t.  I think one of life’s important lessons when we lose someone is being reminded how little time we really do have and how precious this world is.  So I have written my own two lists.

Thanks, Nora.

What I Won’t Miss

Multiple sclerosis

Doctor’s visits of any kind

Always being unhappy about my looks

Fat

Rampant social injustice

Bullies

Those horrible big buzzing beetles that somehow get past your screens on summer nights

Actually, all bugs.  Screw the ecosystem.

Sweating

People with no sense of humor

Knowing there is an audience for programs such as “Housewives of ….[fill in the blank]

Customer service reps who clearly hate people and don’t give a rat’s ass about your problem

Mean spirited, ugly comments after newspaper articles online

Chris Christie

Glen Beck

Job interviews

Heat waves

Weddings

What I Will Miss

My children and grandchildren

My sweet little dog

Writing and the sheer joy of words

My spectacular, funny, giving, loving friends

My cousin Steve, the embodiment of kindness to me my entire life

Laughter

The sound of the ocean

Books

Fabric and the potential in every yard

Yarn

Macaroni and cheese

Marzipan

London

Lemons piled in a blue bowl

Bruce Springsteen

Conan O’Brian

Dick Cavett

Lily of the Valley

Pencils

Haydn

The New York City skyline

Getting a package unexpectedly

A fresh pedicure with bright red polish

A soft, pastel linen shirt on a hot summer evening

Cuddling under a quilt I made myself, made in colors that simply make me happy

The antique pearls my mother gave me

Rain

What would your lists be?

 

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It's Just a Phase

The past few weeks have been a real transition phase for me and I have had a hard time writing about it as my ability to function independently continues to slither away.    I have now officially been declared ‘disabled’ by the United States government.  While this means some physical assistance and a steady, if poverty level, income, I am overwhelmed by the finality of the label. 

I am grateful for the fact that this benefit does exist, but it is tough to adjust to.  Even after six years, I am still relatively shell shocked by the whole chronic illness thing.

One very exciting development that occurred, however, is an opportunity I was given to write for the National MS Society Blog.  My first post, which I considered pretty simple and matter-of-fact, was so well received that at one point I was literally reading the comments with my mouth hanging open, I was so flabbergasted by the response.  With over 500 “likes” on the MS Society Facebook page and over 120 comments, I am humbled at the impact my words have had on readers, who apparently really related to my post on “The Five Worst Things I Have Done Since Being Diagnosed with MS” .  I’ll be contributing to the blog once a month.

Otherwise, trying to keep from being too wretched, I have been doing a lot of sewing, experimenting with projects and techniques I had never tried before. 

I made fabric texture books for each of my youngest grandchildren.  

Maddy's was first, so it is the the one I worked the kinks out on.  Also, it was well played with before I remembered to take pictures.

I haven't sent this yet, so don't tell him.  :)

I finished two memory quilts for a dear friend using squares cut from her late father’s shirts.  I am working on a third on for her brother and pillow shams to match for her nieces.

I am learning to make little things out of wool by needle felting.  This is a process that requires stabbing a clump of wool three hundred kabillion times over and over with a long barbed needle and shaping it into…something.  I am proud to say I only stabbed myself once.  Ok, twice.  Alright, alright it was really four times, but I only drew blood once.

The first one I did.  Got a little acromegaly going on, but I was just following the pattern.

Just finished this little bunny.

I learned how to make fabric yo-yos, little circles of scrap material that you then fashion into objects no one would want in a million years quaint crafts, such as table covers or toddler toys.  I chose to make a little caterpillar for my grandchildren because it was one of the few patterns that did not require about one thousand little circles, just a mere one hundred each.   

I also did a lot of embroidery, am experimenting with watercolor quilting (using graduated colored squares for effects), made aprons for my girls and my granddaughter (Paris-themed for the new bride who honeymooned in Paris and cupcake fabric for mommy and granddaughter, as mommy is a cupcake aficionado) and I’m making new curtains for my bedroom.    I’ll post pictures next time.  I also have joined a new site called Craftsy, where people post pictures of their projects.  It is fun to see what other people are making.  There is an incredible amount of talent out there!!  You can find my page here.

                                                                                                         






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Mother’s Day

The first time you hold them, you actually do count fingers and toes. Who knew? You trace the swirls of those soft, sweet, pink ears. The downy cheeks, the lashes, the button nose, the rosebud mouth, all go into your permanent file, memorized forever. The details are a little different for each child, but they are equally indelible. In your heart, they are perfection.

 I always wanted to be a mother. It was my only career goal and I prepared for it with more zeal than I ever put into my actual education. I read. And read. And read some more. I was going to be the best mother possible for these little beings.

I was the best I knew how to be. That does not mean there are moments, many of them, of which I am less than proud. I was young. I was human. And I had a very, very hard life. But I loved them with every breath. Loved. Them.

 Still do.

I told them I loved them frequently. I acted in a way I believed sent them that message. My own poor, unhappy mother told other people she loved us, but she never told us. As a matter of fact, in my case at least, she actively told me I was worthless and good for nothing. She acted as though she despised us and couldn’t bear to be with us any more than was strictly necessary. She spent almost every waking hour in bed.

I worked hard at being the antithesis of my mother. Much hugging and kissing. Active involvement in school. Played games, sat and colored, took them on trips. Listened to them. Engaged with them. Because I wanted to.  It was fun. It was a delight to see those adorable smiles, hear those laughs and giggles and “I love you Mommy”’s.

In the New York Times on May 10, 2012, Timothy Egan wrote a moving description of his mother and her final weeks in The Last Mother’s Day. I foolishly read it while eating my lunch. Foolishly, because two sentences into it I was a sobbing, gasping mess, choking on my salad. I should have known from the title.

He said this about losing a mother: “…you also lose the true keeper of your memories, your triumphs, your losses. Your mother is a scrapbook for all your enthusiasms. She is the one who validates and the one who shames, and when she’s gone, you are alone in a terrible way.” With my own heath ebbing, and this being the first Mother’s Day since my mother died last year, this really resonated with me. I have often considered how, with my husband gone, there is no one else who knows the details of the days of their births. While I have written down what I do remember, there is no other perspective.

 In the movie Parenthood, Steve Martin is constantly striving to be the father he did not have. His neurotic fears include one in which his child has grown into a crazed shooter from the top of a building. While attempting to talk him down as he rains bullets on his helpless victims, Steve instinctively cries at one point, “Nice shot son!”, ever trying to be the supportive dad. Sometimes that is how I felt, desperate to promote their self-esteem, directly counter to the manner in which mine had been chiseled away. Anything to spare them the pain I experienced as a child who felt, who was told, she was unloved and unwanted.

So, we keep the memories. We shore up egos. We can, sadly, be the ones to tear those egos down as well, even if it is unintentional. Mothers are pretty powerful. Another reason I have had such a reverence for the role and my part in shaping the children who were placed in my care.

Things have not been easy. There have been hard times, disagreements and hurt feelings. But nothing could ever make me want to take back even one second of my life with them. I treasure all those happy memories. I cherish each one’s uniqueness. I respect each path they have chosen, even when it has taken them far away from me. Even when it has broken my heart. Because only they can determine their own journey.

They are not ‘mine’. They do not belong to me, they are their own people. But they are an integral part of who I am. Even if human and flawed, as we all are, they still hold me with a power that is stronger than gravity. Robert Munch’s book has the refrain of my motherhood:

“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always.

 As long as you’re living,
My baby you’ll be.”

Thank you, my four children, for making me a mother.

Steve Martin in Parenthood on the Importance of Being Supportive (because everything is always your fault anyway):
or http://youtu.be/Mn5ayQd7Y0Q

 

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I Took My Daughters to Work

Take Your Daughters to Work Day was a novel concept when it started about 20 years ago here in the United States. The idea was to show our daughters the limitless opportunities available to them in the workforce. But over time it has sort of devolved into somewhat of an annoyance, somewhat of a joke, with no one ever being completely happy with the premise and/or the administration of it. Most of the experience now surrounds lots of paper, crayons and the awkward, politically correct title of “Take Our Sons and Daughters to Work Day”. Some professionals have outright denounced it, such as Julie Drizin of the Journalism Center on Children and Families (I know, who knew there was such a thing anyway?). Since many of our poorest and lowest level workers never have the opportunity to bring their kids to work, unless they don’t have a baby sitter, she considers the day to be “…largely a feel-good exercise for the privileged.”

I started out with enthusiasm, but eventually found it to be more of a headache than anything. And my now grown daughters were not always enthusiastic participants in Take Your Daughter to Work Day, as it was then.

When I was the company nurse at our local newspaper, they loved playing with the equipment in the health office. But when I moved up professionally and joined management at a health insurance company, they pronounced the job that supported them as “boring”.

Our final foray was a bad idea from the start. I was the manager of the Appeals Department for Health Net of the Northeast and TYDTWD (even the initials are awkward) fell on a day involving a regional management meeting at our corporate headquarters in Connecticut, a two hour drive from our home on the Jersey Shore. Our department’s senior executives were all there, including our Senior VP, an obnoxious woman who believed in the Brutal Dictator approach to management. I was a lot more insecure in those days and, wanting to impress, I expected the girls (who were typically really good, nice children) to be on their best behavior while having nothing to do throughout a dull, day-long meeting. In other words, I had totally ridiculous, unreasonable expectations.

During the meeting, my bored then-eleven-year old fidgeted and fooled around, ramping up my anxiety and embarrassment, until she finally knocked over a can of soda that poured down right between her legs, soaking her khaki pants.

With a frozen smile, I ran her to the bathroom. Once there, I started frantically trying to sponge off the embarrassing stain. Mortified, I was about to launch into a furious tirade, but someone else came in to use the rest room. So I bit my lip.

On the way home I had calmed down to a semblance of sanity and she spoke up that she had feared for her life when I dragged her into the Ladies Room. Laughing, my other daughter said “What did you think Mom was going to do, flush you down the toilet?” Elizabeth solemnly replied “At that moment, I think she was capable of anything.”

I was the one who ended up learning a lesson. My kids were more important than trying to impress people who meant nothing to me at the end of the day. People who, unbeknownst to us sitting ducks, at the very time of that meeting were already planning to close the New Jersey office, putting me and several hundred other people out of work.

Perhaps they should have been paying more attention to their claims processing. In 2009 Health Net had to pay $1.3 in fines because of violations of state laws regarding payment of claims. In 2010, Health Net of the Northeast ceased to exist completely, absorbed by United Healthcare. An ultra-modern corporate complex that once housed thousands of employees, and where my daughter gave herself a bath in Dr. Pepper, now stands empty.

Another chapter of Corporate Greed. Take that to work, girls.






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Just a Housewife?

Just when I thought I had nothing to write about, along comes another campaign faux pas. I am so grateful for people who say stupid things.

I cannot believe in 2012 this is still a hot button issue.

A Democratic ‘strategist’ named Hilary Rosen made the off-handed remark that Ann Romney was not qualified to discuss the economy because she had “never worked a day in her life”.

Even I, someone notorious for putting my foot in my mouth, would be hard pressed to come up with a more idiotic statement than that.

The firestorm began right away. When I started to type the word “Hilary” into Google to determine her actual title, the full name Hilary Rosen popped up before I even finished her first name, with page after page of references to the incident. An article on the subject generated over 1000 comments in the New York Times.

I thought the whole point of the women’s movement was to support choice in what a woman decided to do with her life. And I thought it was generally acknowledged that your brain did not cease to function because you worked in the house rather than outside of it. It is outrageous that there are still people who are ignorant enough to give lip service to the old “just a housewife” myth.

I was a stay at home mother by choice because I believed raising my children was the most important work possible. It was the happiest, hardest job I ever did. I never for one second did not appreciate how lucky I was to be able to afford to do so. I don’t know much about Ann Romney, but I figure there is a good chance she has felt the exact same way. Well, at least a few times.

When I was 39, with four kids under 16, my husband died and I had to go back to work. It's pretty tough being a single working mother too. But there is no way I would even imply I was superior to a mother who was not working outside the home. Making it a contest as to what constitutes an authentic American woman diminishes all of us.

Is Ann Romney qualified to speak about the American economy? Well, for one thing, it is a free country and she is entitled to speak about anything she wants. As the wife of a kabillionaire, she probably does not have the exact same perspective as your average mom, working or not. But more power to her.

The women in this country have a myriad of issues to deal with. Discrimination is still rampant in the workplace. There is no infrastructure of safe, reliable child care for women who do work. Gun violence is killing our children at a rate of one child daily. The education system is inequitable. American women, working, non-working, mothers, childless, Democrat, Republican, are all in this together. The last thing we need is a divisive, sneering ‘strategist’ denigrating the life choices of any woman.





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