Fear is Part of the Equation

12.28.2010

I’m trying to launch a project that requires me to work with Dreamweaver CS. It’s taking a tremendous amount of patience, as I’m not the most tech-oriented person – ah, hell, I’m not tech-oriented at all – so I must complete tasks one painful baby-step at a time.

Under normal and any other circumstances I have an enormous amount of patience. But a computer and I are like oil and vinegar and my nasty side comes out. Rob has commented that when I get angry at the computer, he skulks away to his room, shuts the door and hides until the storm blows over. Yes, I get ugly.

Thus, in preparation for this project and knowing this, uh, “flaw” of mine, I coached myself by saying that it was necessary for me to approach this uncharted territory positively, to acknowledge that I will come to forks in the road and I won’t know which way to go, and to accept that I will make mistakes and hit up against brick walls. All of this is OK and I need to trust in myself and not be afraid to ask for help but to, most importantly, understand that I’m not in a race and am working under no deadline.

I reminded myself of all of this, repeated it like a mantra and eventually realized that these same sentiments apply to parenthood. However, before I get to that (and just stay with me), I wanted to address that I keep waiting for that “click” to occur, the one where people say you wake up one morning and know it’s time (to have a kid). That hasn’t happened to me and, I think, what’s happening is I hide behind my fear. There are, of course, other factors, but I keep waiting and wondering and nothing’s happening.

Now, I put off for weeks starting my project because of fear and the fact that I was waiting for the “right” moment – for some divine inspiration to knock me over and bless me. But I don’t know if the divine is ignoring me or perhaps I’ve pissed it off but I didn’t get any signs so, I buckled down and started on my own.

Parenthood is uncharted territory and needs to be approached positively knowing that fear is part of the equation but not the answer. You will come to forks in the road and not know which way to go. Mistakes will occur and there’ll be moments where you feel like you’re hitting your head up against the wall. And you know what? That’s OK.

The journey of weaving a dream begins with the first baby-step. My road beckons…

Temporary Hold on Topic Explained

12.20.2010

I understand that there are people in this world who believe blindly whether it be religion, economics or in nothing. There are those who believe without questioning intellectually why they believe what they believe. Though I may disagree with such a mentality, I can accept it. To a point.

I’ve had my share of people approach me and evangelize and I’ve been scolded by friends for not attending church. I know of at least one person whose family members ostracize them for not having a religious wedding. All these actions are done in the name of Jesus Christ and God. Again, I disagree but I can accept. To a point.

I was raised Roman Catholic, attended Catholic schools most of my life and clearly remember lessons of God’s love, acceptance and patience of His children who, according to Christianity, we are all. I had a bit of a faith crisis at 17 but, in time, came to believe that a Higher Power exists although, to me, it isn’t in the way “God” was presented to me while growing up. I believe in respect, in love and in equality and I try my best to live each day in that regard. Therefore, it astounds me when I see those same people who evangelize (and who have criticized me) turn around and act mean, with prejudice or with hatred.

I wrote last week about one of my students who is blind. I have learned to work around his special needs and push myself to figure out ways to make lessons interesting and engaging. Whether I succeed or not, I don’t know, but at least I know I try.

It was agreed upon several weeks ago that this student and I would share a reading during the Christmas pageant while his classmates reenacted the Nativity scene on stage. I waited for three weeks for the reading. I pleaded with the religion teacher every week to send the reading because my student’s mother needed to make sure it got transferred into Braille, not to mention giving us both a chance to rehearse.

I received the reading the night before the pageant. Not evening, night. This was too late for the student to get the reading and I ended up reading it myself. I was appalled, disgusted and embarrassed. This student, as it is, gets left out of a lot of activities and now a co-worker, and adult who should know better, contributed to him being left out of something in which his entire class and school was partaking. I was livid.

When I confronted this woman, she had excuse upon excuse as to why the reading was sent late but what she eventually admitted to is what sent my anger through the roof. This deeply religious, God-loving woman told me that having him read during the pageant wouldn’t have worked for her because he “needed to see what was on stage.” Barely containing my anger, I replied, “We would’ve worked out a signal when needed. Remember, we were to read together.” An onslaught of more excuses followed.

How do you do this to anyone much less a child? What disgusts me is how these religious fantatics don’t see their own hypocrisy. This woman preaches about God’s love and acceptance and yet doesn’t take the time to live by example. Is it a matter of convenience? When it’s comfortable to do good things then do them, if not then, oh well?

She serves as a living reason why I don’t go to Church anymore. It’s impossible to listen to someone tell me how I should live my life when I know the person cherry picks who to be kind to and who to conveniently ignore. That’s not how my Higher Power operates.

One Needs a Core

12.16.2010

A friend of mine has raised three grown sons and she told me the other day that she still has to remind herself that she is, in fact, a mom.

This struck me because I was under the impression that at some point in one’s life, quite possibly when you have a kid, things just click in to place. Not that you have everything figured out but that you, you know, grow up and that somehow having a kid makes you smarter. I know that may sound silly and/or may not make much sense but one of the reasons I’m scared of having a kid is because I have trouble seeing myself as “an adult.” Would having a child make me lose my sense of play? Would I lose my sense of wonder as I was bogged down with the responsibility of raising another human being? Would I see myself differently?

Perhaps there’s some truth to all those questions and that, yes, a part of my current definition of “play” would change or my sense of wonder would change as I witnessed the world through my child’s eyes and, yes, I suppose I would see myself differently. But we are all individuals before the child comes into our world with our own set of interests, likes and dislikes and though some of that may alter over time, I think the core of who we are remains the same post-child. What I’m starting to realize is that many of us have difficulty recognizing the movement of time and that the wistful days of our youth have long gone. Life moves forward, and that’s OK.

A Blind World

12.11.2010

Today’s entry is very personal.

I have a blind student whom I’ve had once before as a 4^th grader. Having a student with a disability is a challenge and, I have to admit, there are moments where I wish the situation were different – particularly when I would like to incorporate art into the lesson. I usually can’t, though I try whenever I can and discuss with his mother ahead of time.

As a whole, this student is exceptional and I predict he will achieve great things. I remember noticing him when he was little and how he stood out from the rest, blindness aside. He’s engaged, curious, and a real pleasure with which to work. It’s obvious the other students in the class don’t quite know what to make of him despite knowing him for 10 years, and because he can’t participate in many extra-curricular activities there’s little opportunity for them to get to know him outside of the classroom.

Today’s events gave me a glimpse into what I imagine to be his parents’ daily life. (I should mention that his younger brother is also blind.) We were rehearsing for next week’s Christmas pageant and I had to make sure I was with him at all times to cue him, guide him to the stage, direct him once there whether to sit or stand, guide him back to his seat, and to basically serve as a pair of eyes for him including informing him of what was going on and for what to listen. Now, I had and have no problem doing this. It wasn’t this big huge sacrifice by any means. But, I have to admit that after an hour and half of this routine, I was exhausted. When the entire student body rehearsed the ending of the pageant by singing and mimicking the hand and body gestures the teachers were directing at them, I observed both boys’ parents help with as many gestures as they could. I almost broke down in tears.

It wasn’t out of pity for these boys. They don’t know any different. Their world since birth is what it is. I grieved for the parents, for their work, dedication and sacrifice that they make on a daily basis. I know each parent makes sacrifices but I would argue not on the level of parents with a child with a disability. Even what I consider to be a tiny glimpse into these parents’ world is a joke. I get to walk away.

These two blind boys interpret the world in a way their parents, or any of us with sight, couldn’t ever imagine. And this is where the greatest part of my grief is found: As a parent, I imagine you want to give your child the world, to experience life through their eyes, and to be able to help them awake to the world around them. These parents can’t do that. Sight separates parent and child. That’s not to say they can’t do it at all, but the way people with sight interpret the world is, obviously, different from those who are blind. It makes me sad that these parents can’t share their world with their kids. And, ostensibly, their kids can’t share their world with them.

We all have a purpose, or so I believe, and I know that these two boys are adapting and that they’ll be OK. There are many things that they can still do and they work around their challenges. Lord knows we all have challenges with which to contend. I hope, though, that we remember to often pause and appreciate ourselves, our lives, our parents, our kids. I know that any time I may feel frustrated with whatever it is when it comes to accommodating this student, that I will quickly check myself. Prepping my lessons a day or two earlier than I normally would so that they may be transcribed for him is nothing compared to what his parents have to do. And each time I see a smile on this kid’s face or hear him laugh, I will remind myself that happiness and joy don’t need eyes.

The Stranger, an HIV Test, and Peace

09.19.2010

Sometimes we find ourselves stressed and annoyed at the littlest things and it’s never until we’re faced with a reminder of the preciousness of life that we may think back to those moments of stress and annoyance and think, “May I have many more of those.” Yesterday, I experienced such a moment.

I was out with my sister running errands one of which was to the thrift store Out of the Closet. While she shopped, my back started to ache so I found a place to sit. This location offered free HIV testing and the only place for me to sit was in the waiting room. I took one of the two chairs and grabbed a magazine.

A guy in his late 20s or early 30s sat down next to me. We had actually both been looking for a bathroom earlier and were directed to the nearby Rite Aid. So, as bathroom buddies, he must’ve felt like we already crossed some sort of milestone because he immediately opened up. He asked if I was there for an HIV test and when I shook my head, he nervously told me that he was and was now waiting for the results.

He told me about a partner who told him he was HIV negative but then admitted he lied. He said that he started to notice changes in his body and it scared him into coming in to take the test. Shakily he pondered, “Is my life about to change forever?”

I felt helpless. For some reason our paths crossed and I, for one second, hated that they did. I’m horrible at coming up with words of wisdom on the spot or offering up some…what? What do you say to someone in that moment? “I hope it’s a negative result” just seems too much of a “well, duh” thing to say. So I decided to just listen because perhaps he just needed to know that someone was listening.

He was then called and my sister, by now, was done shopping. I told her what just happened and that I wanted to cry because I could feel his fear and I wanted him to be OK. While we were at the register, I kept looking to see if he’d left yet and I seriously considered waiting so that I would know the results too.

As we turned to leave, I saw him walk out with a big grin on his face. He was negative. I gave him a hug and he thanked me several times. In this moment, I had a connection with a complete stranger. It didn’t matter who he was, what his sexual orientation was, or where he came from. For a few minutes, we were two humans who stood together at a threshold where one person’s path could’ve gone one way or another. He needed a friend and a phantom hand to hold and I happened to be there at the right time, and for that I am truly grateful.

I also thought about all the people who bear so much hatred for gays and disregard their emotions, their needs and struggles, and teach this intolerance to their children. The compassion I had for this person, I feel, helped him and didn’t make him feel alone because, after all, isn’t that what we all strive for in the end? To not feel alone? It made me thankful to be who I am and should we ever have children, I feel that both Rob and I will be able to parlay that compassion, understanding and love. My hope is that they inspire others to do the same.

Perfecting the Perfect (Illusions)

06.22.2010

My sister sent me this video the other day and I want to post it up because I think its message is incredibly important – especially for girls and women.

I consider one of my best friends and me to be some of the worst offenders in the self-hate department. We’ve been friends since high school and I can’t tell you how many conversations we’ve had while growing up about how much we hated ourselves and how much we wished we looked like the models and actresses we saw. It’s disheartening to have to look in the mirror and see a reflection of flaws when you see nothing of the sort in movies, TV or magazines. It’s only when you’re older and more mature that you start to realize how that business works and, hopefully, it becomes easier to remind yourself that it’s not real. But I can’t say that I don’t have my moments…

I hope that mothers who have daughters especially take note of the message of this video because, at the end of the day, it’s your voice and support of who they are that is going to be needed desperately as a weapon to fight against the conflicting images and messages that are blasted across the pages and screens. (This, of course, goes for boys too with an emphasis on the father’s voice.)[1]

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[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYhCn0jf46U