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When It’s Yours

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March 31st was Transgender Day of Visibility. I’d seen it on social media in years past, but didn’t really pay attention to it….until last week. Suddenly, it applies to our family. Suddenly, it is a day that matters personally. It hits different when a “day” applies to your child. It’s just different when it’s yours.

Transgender people aren’t new to me. It’s not as if I’ve never understood what this day might mean to this particular community. I am well aware the dangers transgender people face each and every day out in the world. I can’t count how many news stories I’ve seen and read documenting the discrimination, and aggression – verbal and physical – towards trans people, heard of the ever-limited rights of trans people, that they’re more likely to unalive themselves or be murdered simply for trying to exist as they are. But it’s different when it’s your kid. It’s personal when it’s your kid.

Not long after N began to talk with us about their gender dysphoria, I had a full meltdown of my own, not because I don’t want them to be who they are, feel safe in our family to take their own journey where it takes them, but because I know too well the things they will face in our world, particularly with the current administration and with the very-conservative Christian right. I broke down in fearful tears, literally for my child’s life. The life they want to live is dangerous, in so many ways…..physically, mentally, emotionally. If and when they walk out into the world as the gender they are in their mind and soul, they will face so much negativity, discrimination, so many threats. My heart needs desperately to protect them, but I cannot do that at the cost of telling them they cannot be who they are.

It’s just different when it’s your kid, your family.

I remember one morning, years ago, running past the high school down the road. There’s a marquee sign out front of that school (as with basically every other school in the world), with upcoming events, important dates, the school motto, etc. It hit me that late-spring morning that sign was now part of my life. Big Man would be starting school there that Fall. Those dates now mattered to me, to our calendar. I had the same feeling last week when all the social media posts/stories pertaining to Trans Day of Visibility showed up all day in my feed. Oh my god……this is my child. This day means them, this day means us. This day is now ours too. Not quite the same as that high school marquee, whose significance left our lives five years after that first recognition, but the same initial a-ha moment. It’s just different when it’s yours.

To be honest, I have lived in fear for this child’s life for many years. The reasons for that fear have changed a little. This new fear is nothing new, it just has a different source. When N started to show just how different they were from their peers, and the bullying started, I was fearful how bad it could possibly get as they moved through their school years. I feared what they might see or hear on the internet in addition to whatever they might face at school. Then the suicidal ideation started, and I feared – still fear – we would lose them to that spiral. Now, that fear is both internal – that they will take their own life – as well as external – that someone will assault them simply for being who they are. I have read/seen too many reports of the murders of trans people, targeted violence for being “different”. But those reports hit differently when it’s your kid.

It’s just different when it’s yours….when those things in the world now mean you, your family, your child. It’s not “them”, it’s “us”, it’s real, it’s different.

“It doesn’t take any talent…”

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There was an interview the other day of a certain pastor of a Christian Nationalist church that’s getting a lot of attention. There are a ton of sound bites. I won’t give him a name or credit here. I refuse. I was infuriated on so many levels watching the interview/piece on this church and its growing following/community. To be honest, I was completely disgusted by essentially everything the lead pastor and his associates – all middle-aged white men, for the record – had to say.

I was born in 1969. In my lifetime, women have gained the ability to have their own checking account, their own credit card account, buy a home in their own name, open a business themselves and own it. Those are just a few things, a few rights we have been granted since my birth. Do I think we’re still figuring our way to really defining feminism and feminist rights, what it means to be a woman in the world in the 21st century? Yes, I do. Our roles and outlooks are evolving. I do not, however, believe that women are and should be “just vessels” nor do I agree with the whole “submitting to your husband” the way this church is currently defining submittance. But that’s not what I’m here to write/talk about today.

This man said, “It doesn’t take any talent to biologically reproduce.” Sir, with (ahem) respect, you’re a fucking moron. I’m going to take it to understand you have zero clues what women go through from the moment their periods first start when they’re teenagers, what happens when we’re trying NOT to get pregnant, when we’re trying TO get pregnant, what happens to our bodies and how we care for them while we’re pregnant, what childbirth is actually like (even when everything goes 100% right, which, to be honest, is rare), much less post-partem and then just being a mom in general. It indeed takes a ton more than biological talent. It takes a strength you’d never have the depth of understanding. It takes a will, it takes tolerance, it takes mental, physical and emotional skills you couldn’t hope to achieve in your lifetime.

But let’s back up a minute…..no biological talent….really? Has anyone you’ve ever known suffered through infertility? A premature birth? A still birth? Do you know what a miracle any pregnancy is, how many gajillion things have to go absolutely right to result in a viable fetus? Seriously dude……We endured 18 months of fertility treatments, granted that’s a pretty short stint in that world. I did EVERYTHING I was supposed to do, endured so many tests and procedures, most of which were painful and invasive. I took fertility drugs that caused all kinds of fun side effects. Then we gave birth 14 weeks early and spent three months in the NICU with our son fighting for his life. But sure, no biological talent.

Do you really think all women are complete idiots who are only capable of reproducing and offer no other skills to society? That is offensive, ignorant, and 1000% wrong. Do you know where you’d be, where we’d be as a modern society without the gifts and contributions of women?

In all honesty, I am a woman who chose to leave her career when our third child was born, to stay home and be a mom/homemaker. It was the best choice for our family, especially given the different needs of a preemie and then an autistic child. But I am still offended, and am allowed to be offended by anyone who says that’s all I was meant to do and be. I worked my way through college, and then twelve years of a career before I became a stay at home mom. Even during the years I was at home, I was much more than a submissive, passive, non-contributing, unworldly woman. I would say that of nearly all women who make the same choices I did, with the only exclusions being the women in this man’s church who believe the BS he’s feeding them.

As a woman, even one whose children are grown, I see this movement as dangerous to everyone BUT white males. The witch hunts of hundreds of years ago….those had nothing to do with real witches or religion, but rather fear of women who refused to dumb themselves down, who would not stay “in their place”, refused to hide their skills, talents, minds. They had everything to do with men who were afraid of those women, and their potential to bring the idea of an equal presence in the world to other women.

Now if you’re a woman who chooses the lifestyle this “pastor” is presenting as viable, go you. That’s your choice. But I will fight with all I have to keep this from becoming the norm for all women. In the words of another recent in-the-news person, “We are not going back.”

Humanizing the dehumanized

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I grew up in the Central Valley….a tiny town in the northern end of the San Joaquin Valley. We moved there when I was ten years old, going from a big city to this very small, very rural, barely-a-blip-on-the-map town. We had four elementary schools, two middle schools, and one high school (plus the two rural K-8’s and one Catholic K-8). Fifteen thousand residents….that was it. My siblings and I could bike the entire town in one afternoon. My parents were able to trust us to do that, even at ages 14, 10, and 8. It was that small of a town.

Many of the residents of that town owned or worked on farms. A lot of the kids I went to school with were from families of migrant workers, their parents in the fields or processing plants, often working two or three jobs to pay for housing, food, and clothing for their families. Most of those children worked extremely hard in school so they could better their lives even further, knowing how hard their parents worked to give them the opportunity. I never really thought much about the legality of their presence. The children who were my classmates were usually born here in the US, or brought over by their parents at very young ages. We all knew the farms in our town needed them, needed those workers. They would not be productive without them. No one else wanted to do that work….hours in the field, in the 100+ degree heat, or the dripping, windy rains and fog. Those families were part of life, part of our community. They were human beings whose presence and existence were, well, normal. I didn’t question their right to try to have a better life, a safer life than they’d have back in Mexico or any of the other South American countries they came from. I didn’t get all the politics or political opinions surrounding their presence. It just was.

We moved our young family to San Diego over twenty years ago. Our town is relatively small, and about an hour from the border. It is more of a city than where I grew up, but agriculture surrounds us. As we are relatively close to the border, there is a large population of immigrants, legal and not quite legal. My children went through school with many “dreamer” classmates who again were either born here or brought over very young, their parents seeking better, safer lives, some seeking asylum from very dangerous and persistent violence in their home countries.

When a certain president was elected in 2016, my children – the older two in high school – became aware the pervasive fear among those dreamer classmates. Those kids didn’t know if their parents would come home at night, or whether they’d be rounded up and deported while the kids were at school. They lived in constant fear of separation. It was the first time my kids understood differences between their lives and those of many of their friends. They couldn’t understand the way many people were talking about other people, labeling as the “worst of the worst”, rapists, murderers, gang members. All they knew were good people working extremely hard to just live and provide. But we watched and listened as every day this group of people was dehumanized in every way possible, families separated, people put in overcrowded cages while they waited for their cases to be heard, to be sent “back”. They heard people screaming about building a wall, about “illegals” taking “American jobs”, “stealing” our resources, free-loading, etc. They didn’t understand the ugliness about the people they only knew to work hard at jobs no one else would do. Their fears for their friends, for their friends’ families was very real.

And here we are again. Look, our immigration system is complicated, and pretty broken. It is very imperfect. It desperately needs reform, better funding, more staffing. The route to citizenship needs to clearer and faster. Immigration itself is a very complicated, nuanced topic with a lot of gray area. Do some “bad” people come over? Yes! Bad people are always going to take advantage where they can. That’s in the definition. But most people who cross that border are coming here to escape horrific violence, constant threats of death, or very impoverished lives. They are seeking safety and better lives for themselves, their children. I can only imagine the lengths I would go to in order to give my children safe, better lives if I believed their existence were threatened. Do you think the people who come across our borders just left their homes, their countries willy-nilly, on a whim, or just to try to take something from you? No……they don’t want to leave their homes and all they know. Would you? Unless you absolutely had to, would you up and leave your home and take an extremely dangerous journey across hundreds or even thousands of miles?

These are not “aliens”. They are not “scum”. They are not “the worst of the worst”. They are human beings. They deserve to be treated as such, with respect and care. They are your neighbor. They could be you. The rounding up, the terror that is being inflicted lately is disgusting, awful, horrific, beyond imagination. The people cheering it on…..I have no words. The people in the red hats buying Alligator Alcatraz merch like this is a big comedy designed specifically for their enjoyment….I can’t even. You’re laughing at the severe violation of the rights of very-real humans. But then, they (the administration) don’t want you to see them as human. As long as you’re distracted by the handling of “others”, those they want you to believe are threatening your rights, your resources, you’re not paying attention to what they’re doing (or, rather, not doing). It’s a game that’s been played for hundreds of years. It’s a strategy to keep you focused on anything other than why they’re not working to make YOUR life better, why they aren’t doing the very things that would make the economy better, housing/food/fuel, taxes more affordable.

Look, this a huge topic that isn’t going to be resolved in one blog post. My whole point, my whole thought process is that these people are human beings. Same as you and me. They deserve to be treated as human beings, not terrorized, rounded up, put in cages and made the butt of crass jokes.

It seems too big

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If you’re like me, you’ve gone back into outrage overload the last few weeks. Every day seems to arrive with a new level of unreal insanity, of events, news, posts that just aren’t normal at all. What’s real? What isn’t? What’s just meant to be distraction from the real issue at hand? How far will this go. Most of all, my mind keeps asking, “WHAT CAN WE DO???? NO ONE SEEMS TO BE DOING ANYTHING!!” (and yes, my brain is generally screaming that in all caps, with all the exclamation points). It seems bigger this time, too big, messier, more terrifying, and most of all, completely overwhelming.

I don’t watch network news, nor do I watch cable news. I find both are generally incendiary and don’t give enough details and facts. They typically lean one way or the other, which, fine, I’ll admit I have a certain leaning. And as Jen Psaki said recently, the “media has an addiction to viral moments” and “prioritizes a spectacle over substance.” I try to stay out of a self-created echo chamber for the one side, and well, for the other side, I usually just have no words for what’s being said. I turned all news notifications off on all my devices. I do read long-form articles, have a few trusted sources I go to for morning and evening updates. I research and crosscheck, or listen to/read people I know do the work. I guess what I’m saying that while I’m overwhelmed and have no clue what to do, if there’s anything impactful one citizen can do, I do not have my head buried in the sand. I am engaging. I am aware.

There are just so many things, every single day, to get worked up over. Look, I have a daughter, I’m a woman, I have two children who are part of the LGBTQ (yes, please be sure to include the T AND the Q – deleting their representation from websites doesn’t mean they don’t exist, for the love of all that is holy) community. I have neighbors whose children are birthright citizens, terrified their parents are going to be deported at any moment. If not for Medicaid, my mother, post-stroke, would have been homeless and without the care and therapies she required. My oldest and youngest children – both of whom are beyond brilliant, just had/have different needs – relied on 504 plans and the youngest an IEP for most of their educational experiences. Accommodations enabled their academic success. I could go on and on. So where do I even start pushing back on all the crazy-train that has been going on the last 3+ weeks? Every day, sometimes it seems every hour, a new outrage arrives.

I do believe the point is to immobilize and freeze us, overwhelm us into the inability to act. Whatever side of the aisle you fall on, I highly recommend the book, “The Small and the Mighty” by Sharon McMahon. I just finished it this morning, and it was very timely. (I follow her instagram as well – she breaks things down, with evidence and support, in a way that’s easy to understand, all without being condescending). In the conclusion of her book she says, “the weight of the world does not rest on your shoulders alone. Our unique skills, talents, and abilities are meant to be used in ways that only we can.” She goes on to say, “I’d want you to know that you should keep going. That often the biggest breakthroughs happen after the darkest nights.” And lastly, “And it is us, the small and the mighty, who make America great. Not again, but always.” It gave me hope this morning. It made me feel less, well, less.

I suppose my point to all of this being, I can’t let the intentional overwhelm overwhelm me. I need to choose one thing to act upon, one tiny bit of the huge crazy to respond and reply to, apply my specific skills. Some days, that may just be sharing correct information on social media. Some days, that may be coming here to write, vent, share, encourage. Some days, it might mean writing a letter/email to powers that be, or making a phone call to a representative. And then some days, it might mean hiding from it all as a form of self-care when it all gets to be too much.

My bigger point of this being, I refuse to lay down this time. I refuse to keep my mouth shut. I refuse to keep quiet. There are people who cannot fight for themselves. I am determined to fight for them, when and where I can, to stand as an ally, to use the skills I have to help educate, support, and defend. When it seems too big, too much, choose one thing, utilizing your particular skillset, and go with it. It will take the small and the mighty to save us.

Pack Your Bags

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I was listening to a podcast the other day in which they were discussing abortion, and legislation surrounding abortion. No, I’m not going to discuss abortion, nor do I want a discussion on the topic in this space. The basic point of their discussion was that it’s a much-more-complicated topic than just pro-life v pro-choice. Some things were said that I immediately had a gut-reaction to…not anger or hurt, just a gut-reaction, and I realized once again, we all bring our own baggage to difficult conversations, and it would serve each of us well when in those conversations to remember that fact.

I have three teenagers. No big secret. And teenagers – well, let’s just say, they tend to see the world still in black-and-white. They haven’t reached a stage in their mental development and maturity that allows them to see much gray. When difficult subjects come up in the household, Spouse and I hedge more than our teens would probably like, but it’s because we know there’s that gray, and then too, we have our baggage. For instance, in the abortion discussion mentioned above, you feel a little differently about things once you go through fertility difficulties, then fight to stay pregnant at 23 weeks 4 days gestation, and give birth to a micro-preemie. You just see things differently than before you go through all of that. That being said, you gain an entirely new perspective when you have a teenage daughter, with a full life ahead of her. Baggage affects how we view difficult, complicated discussions. And how we view those difficult, complicated discussions changes over our lifetimes.

The last few years, our (American) society has become so very polarized. It seems we can hardly talk about anything, much less the “big stuff”, without getting into deep arguments in which we can’t even hear each other for trying to change minds and defend our “side”. Friendships have been lost, families put at severe odds. If we just took a moment to remember  baggage is indeed brought to these difficult, complicated conversations, maybe we’d give each other a bit more grace.  If we just remembered that what lately has been presented as black-and-white, either/or, yes-or-no, has much more nuance, much more gray area, maybe we could have more conversations, and fewer arguments.

BTW, if you’re looking for an awesome political podcast that presents both sides, in a nuanced, graceful manner, try  Pantsuit Politics  I’ve learned so much about government and politics, as well as how to discuss both in a non-heated way over the last few months. I highly-recommend it, whether Left or Right, or somewhere in the middle.

More than words

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I intentionally don’t engage in talking politics on social media. My Gramma always taught me to “keep your politics to yourself if you want to keep friends.” I have anxiety just “liking” things other people have posted. This post isn’t about politics. It isn’t really even about a politician. It’s about a man, his words, his actions, and how painful they are to a person who has been the victim of sexual assault. It is also about the people who have supported him, condoned his words as “just locker room talk.”

If you’ve been the victim of sexual assault, those words, yes, even words spoken eleven years ago, are painful. They are wrought with fear, guilt, mortification. They are objectifying. Even worse than those words spoken eleven years ago is the downplaying of that conversation to “just the way men talk.” That’s NOT the way real men talk. That’s not the way my husband talks. That had better not be the way my sons EVER talk. That’s not the way my male friends talk. That’s not the way my brothers, nephews, uncles, or father talks. That’s the way men who don’t respect women talk. That’s the way men who think it’s okay to use their position of power over women talk. That’s the way men talk who put rapists in jail for just six months while the rapist’s victim’s life is destroyed.

I have been heartbroken, and wanting to throw up, over so many of the comments on social media and in the news since Friday night. I can’t believe anyone would excuse his actions in any way, shape, or form. I’m incensed at anyone trying to deflect the conversation towards anyone or anything else, try to point the finger any other direction. I cried listening to that tape, reading the transcript of that conversation. I’ve been made to feel all over again the way I felt that day, and the weeks and months that followed.

I’ve grown up around athletes. I’ve heard some pretty crude conversations. But not once did they ever talk about sexually assaulting women and have everyone around them say it was okay. Because that’s exactly what this conversation admitted to – sexual assault. SEXUAL ASSAULT. Let’s not call it anything but what it was. As a victim of sexual assault, calling it anything else victimizes me all over again. It takes me back to that day when my choice was taken away, and then I was made to feel like the guilty, responsible party.

The lack of a sincere apology makes it that much worse. The refusal to call it what it was makes it that much worse. Pointing the finger at someone else as being just as bad, rather than taking ownership of his own actions makes it that much worse. My God – my kids did that when they were toddlers – pointed their fingers at another guilty party rather than just saying they were sorry for their own actions. They’ve learned better since then. They know it doesn’t take away from their own guilt to deflect to someone else.

Don’t downplay what he said. Don’t make it anything less than what it was, because that victimizes every victim of sexual assault all over again. That tells young men it’s okay to touch women who’ve said no, that it’s okay to make women less than men, that it’s okay to use your position of power and fame to take women’s choice away, that it’s okay to sexually assault and harass women. It’s NOT okay. It’s contributing to the rape culture. They are more than words. And it’s not okay.

Friday Favorites 4.1.16

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Hey! Bet you thought (had hoped?) you’d never see another Friday Favorites from me, right? It seems strange to me that this time last week, I was sitting on our lanai in Kauai, celebrating Little Man’s 12th birthday (let that post slip by, didn’t I?). Did that trip really happen? But for the slightly tanned skin, a heap of laundry still sitting in my suitcase on my bedroom floor, and some sand in my flip flops, I could almost be convinced it didn’t happen. Oh yeah, the the 3.5 solid days of work I’ve had to do in order to catch up. To top all that off, it’s been kind of a weird week with Big Man back in school, but the younger two still out. I’m all out of whack, waiting for Monday to get back to our real routine. The next couple of months are going to be a whirl.

For your Friday enjoyment, here are my favs of the day:

  • I’m in the midst of training for a half marathon. That meant my running gear went with me to Hawaii. And yes, I actually did break from zip lining, beach time, and coastal hikes to get a few runs in, two of them long. The last one was SWAMPY! Warm, sunny, and super humid. I felt like I was running underwater, and I struggled. But I made a commitment to training this time, so I fought through. The first long run there, I’d gotten rained on towards the end. But I carried on. So when I ran across Running on Healthy’s (see what I did there?) post today, it definitely clicked. Are  you a runner? Do you run in weather? I used to be a fair-weather runner. I still don’t particularly like to run in the rain, but I’ll do it. I just keep thinking about race day, on which you never know what you’re going to get.
  • I know I link to Jason’s posts a lot, but in this time of election frenzy, this post of his today really struck me. I’m soooooo tired of this whole election already. I was tired of it six months ago, and we have six more months to go. It’s disgusting to me all the rhetoric that goes on while we need things to get done. Sigh. Opinionated Man states it way better than I ever could. Check it out.
  • I know Big Man’s story is not the only story of prematurity, nor of pregnancy gone wrong, yet somehow I’m surprised when someone I’ve known or followed for awhile shares their journey. Just goes to show, you never know, so ask, and listen. Linda G Hill began the story of her son’s journey today. I think she’s kind of amazing, and so is her Alex.
  • Yeah, it’s April Fool’s Day. I woke up with fear in my heart, although it seriously helps the level of shenanigans that two of the three aren’t in school today. Whew. Laura of Riddle in the Middle writes about the day, and her feelings on it. I love her post, because I feel exactly the same way.
  • This one made me smile. It was the first post I read today.  Hope it makes you smile too. Please come back and share your ATM.
  • I have yet to find a replacement for Cute Overload, but I do follow more than a few blogs involving pets, and cute pictures of pets. So here’s your weekly animal share, courtesy of So Many Books.

Happy Friday!

Friday Favorites #12

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Hey!! The Herd reached 400 followers (Plus!) this week!!! Can I get a Wooooohooooo????!!!!! I know some of you have ten times that and more, but for this humble momma blogger, I’m pretty excited! Thank you all those who’ve joined our crazy ride.

In an update to the cat saga post yesterday, Willie visited the vet this morning (yes, there was lots of yowling in the cat carrier on the way there and back). He had the drain removed, ditched the cone, and was declared “healing nicely”. He’s still on house arrest for a few more days. He spent over an hour bathing himself once we got home. He’s a much happier kitty, until I have to give him his medicine later.

What’s on  your weekend agenda? The Princess and I are going to a musical tonight. One of her besties has a lead role. Super fun. The men are going to the movies, I think. It’s Nutcracker all day tomorrow for the P. Spouse and I head downtown for a bike bar thingy. I’d never heard of it before a few weeks ago. Maybe photos will be shared next week. Maybe not. There are adult beverages involved after all.

I know you’ve all been patiently waiting (right?) so here’s the list for this week’s Friday Favorites:

  • Linda G Hill shared a gorgeous photo. I want to go there. The sky a beautiful blue, with puffy white clouds reflecting in the water below. Peace.
  • Kids re-enacting the Republican debate? Yes please. Thanks, Luther at Infinitefreetime.com  Made us all laugh.
  • Adoption carries so much more than just adopting a baby and bringing him home. Riddle from the Middle shares some of the difficulties. I love her honestly. Thank you for sharing.
  • You Can’t Argue With Crazy wrote her hundredth post!! Go show her some love. She writes some good stuff.
  • Who knew Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody was 40 years old? Good grief. That makes me feel so old!!! David Snape and Friends asks the question, “Do you think this is the best song ever?” I love music. I listen to so many genres and have all my life. The Beatles “Imagine” is one of my all-time favs. But when the Eagles “Hotel California” comes on, the radio always gets blasted. I could say that of so many songs. And I dare ya to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody without banging your head a la Wayne and Garth.
  • Emma of Blu Chicken Ninja has written a pen review before. Have I mentioned I LOVE pens? I can and will spend hours in an office supply store testing pens. She wrote a new review on some gel pens. I think I need these!
  • Having a high schooler is stressful. We put pressure on him, his teachers put pressure on him, he puts pressure on himself. These four years are so important, so pivotal in what happens after high school. We’re trying so very hard to find a good balance for him, but it’s so easy to get caught up in the ultra-competitive nature that is getting your children into “good” colleges. Milagro Momma at Miracles in the Mundane writes so eloquently on this issue.
  • Part of having a kid on any kind of competitive team is fundraising. We’ve been holding bake sales at the dance studio to raise money for costumes, competition fees, and private lesson fees for the Princess’ competition dance ensemble. The theme this week is Fall goodies, so I was super excited to find this recipe for pumpkin chocolate chip cupcakes at …and a sprinkle of love. Going to test this one out.  I’ll let you  know the verdict, but they sound so freakin tasty!
  • Pets…..on iPads….nuff said. Cute Overload

Happy Weekend!!!