**Note:  When I started to write this, I had no idea I was gonna get all deep and personal.  It was going to be a little quip on Facebook about how fascinating I find the psyche of hoarders.  Instead, I ended up giving a glimpse into my own psyche.  I was going to delete it…  or shorten it… but then I thought it might help others who sometimes feel alone or trapped by the lies that their heads tell them. **

Hoarders:

I find the show so morbidly fascinating I can’t get enough of it.

I don’t understand the attachment to “things.”  I don’t have any attachment to ANY thing… maybe it’s because I don’t have kids, so there’s nothing that I feel like I should pass on, but stuff is just stuff…

But that feeling of being overwhelmed?  I TOTALLY get that… that it’s too far gone to do anything.  Some of the hoarders see that it’s all garbage but they don’t know how to even begin getting rid of it… I understand those better.

I was ALWAYS a total mess…  about twice a year my mom would have a “mommy dearest” moment and come in my room and dump all of my drawers in the center of the floor and pull everything out of my closet.  She did this because i would have literal garbage that I hadn’t thrown away that I just shoved in drawers and closets anywhere… She stayed and helped me clean it up, only to have to do it again in six months. (The closet remained an issue until I moved into this house, actually.)

From the time I had my first car, my backseat and passenger seat became a garbage can.

Even when I went to college, although the main living areas would stay mainly picked up, my floor was a sea of clothing and paper.

When I had roommates, same thing.  The main living areas were kept picked up, but my room was a DISASTER.

Then, I lived on my own for the first time when I was 27.   Eeeeek…

“It” happened.  I would drop a fast food bag on the floor and there it stayed. Cans of cat food, lunch meat packages, diet soda cans, pizza boxes.  Sometimes I would go around and collect it all in garbage bags, but then I left the garbage bags sitting on the floor.  There were too many of them… and the dumpster seemed so far away. I had a cat who rarely used his litter box, and he peed and pooped on the stuff on the floor.  I tried to stay on top of cleaning that up immediately, but I’m not sure I got all of it.

My washing machine broke, but I was embarrassed to let anyone come in my house to fix it, so I’d haul my clothes over to my parents house to wash…. but I never brought the sheets.  I’m not sure why… and they were dirty, so I stopped sleeping on my bed upstairs, and slept on the sofa downstairs.

My air conditioning froze over and over and over again…  in Houston.. in the summer…  in an apartment complex, but I wouldn’t call them in to fix it because I was embarrassed.

I didn’t let anyone in my apartment for well over a year.

BIZARRE!   What happens to a person’s head that they let that happen?  (Likely stems from the same thing that lets me gain over 100 pounds… more than once…  that “overwhelmed” feeling I suppose.  The idea that it’s too much to even know where to start.  The same thing that keeps me from going to important doctor appointments because I’m embarrassed to let a doctor see what *I* did to my body… that this is no one’s fault by my own, and I know it… and I need to FIX it before I can let anyone see it.).

Anyway, one day, I decided enough was enough and I would move.

I kept almost nothing.  I threw away over 100 bags of trash.  I got new furniture.  New everything.  My “life changer” friend convinced me to get a cleaning lady AS SOON as I moved into the new apartment…  every other week…  so that it could NEVER happen again, and it never has.

Granted, my closet and car took a little longer to catch up.  I’ve only improved with those in the last two year… Those are both fine now… I’m not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination, but that bizarre “hoarding” thing stopped.

I know we all have our quirks.  I do think being fat is just another form of hoarding.  (I need to have that cheeseburger.  I need the extra large fries.  I want it.) With obesity, I wear mine on the outside… a constant, embarrassing struggle…

…but in some odd way it’s good, you know?

It allows me some compassion… some understanding… and, really, no more secrets.  My most embarrassing “secret” is there for the whole world to see.

I understand people who fight against their own heads… how difficult it can be to do the right things even when you know you’re not being logical… even when you KNOW what the right things are…

All of this and  I am still a FULLY functioning member of society…  a hard worker… a good teacher…

So this fat that I’m hiding inside is now my hoard.  Interesting.

I know I need to get rid of it.  I know how.

My fat hoard stops me from doing things that I want to do.  It keeps me imprisoned and allows me to make excuses for things.

Very interesting the things our head tells us.

I often wonder if we actually ever “cure” or solve a problem… or if it just changes forms.  Each addiction or compulsion simply becomes a new addiction or compulsion… and hopefully we can just find healthier outlets.

Wow… that got longer and more personal than I thought it was going to! I have no cute “quirky” final thought… Just letting you know… that thing you’re struggling with?  The secret that you’re not sure how to fix?  I get it.  I understand.

A few weeks ago I was in the backseat of the car with my mom.  Richard and my dad were in the front, and as he was navigating along the Stevenson Expressway in Chicago, sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, after standing out in the hot sun all day on Navy Pier, I just looked at Richard and thought, “I love you,” so I said it.  He said it back.  And my mom seemed taken aback by that moment.  Thing is, I say those words probably ten times a day?  Maybe more?  Sometimes it’s even a little more syrupy than that… “Honey loves Bear.”  (gag, right?), but if I think it… I say it… because I don’t think it ever hurts anyone to know it.

Last weekend Richard and I were at a friend’s house… and as we reached across to hold hands, she said, “You guys really love each other.”

Then, last night, after I posted that I was excited that Richard had the day off and chose to use part of it to make us halibut and beet and goat cheese salad for dinner (yum), another long time friend responded that with as good as our marriage is, I should really teach marriage workshops or something.

My thought was “Um… no…  because EVERY marriage is different… just like every person is different, and you have to decide on your own rules for happiness and perfection in marriage.”  Also, I’ve only been at it for eight years, so my feelings about this whole thing could change.

My marriage recipe is not secret, and I’m happy to share it with you.

Any great recipe (according to my husband.  I don’t cook) is only as good as its ingredients.  So my big disclaimer is that my husband is AWESOME and amazing! He loves to hunt and fish and shoot… and he drives a big truck, and wants to mow his own lawn, and grill up a steak, and he’s handy and good at fixing stuff…  and he’s SMART and loves chemistry and math and history and READS everything he can get his hands on… and he is STRONG like an ox… can haul, tote, and carry all day long…  and he loves great food and great wine and great beer… going to restaurants and dropping $200 on dinner for the two of us in the middle of  a week barely makes him bat an eye.  He likes going to Broadway musicals, and new places, and looking at interesting shops in Fredericksburg or Old Town Spring. He likes spending time with my friends and family. He’s got gay friends and straight friends and liberal friends and conservative friends.  He doesn’t gamble or get drunk or have any horrible vices…  SO…  when you start with him???  Um… yeah, marriage is pretty darn easy.

But… if I were to say what WE do for each other… some of the main things are as follows:

We do NOT agree to disagree, but we listen and try to understand

There are A LOT of heated debates in the Scholtz house.  Three to four a week is not an exaggeration.  It usually takes us about 2 1/2 hours to watch a one hour TV show because there is constant pausing for debating.  Are we trying to convince the other person?  Well, of COURSE we are… and sometimes the same debate goes on for MONTHS at a time.  Sometimes there’s resolution (He now knows it’s perfectly reasonable for gay couples to adopt, and I now know that the right to bear arms is a fundamental right that shouldn’t be reconsidered).  And sometimes there isn’t  (I still think we need some form of universal health care and he still thinks that it’s okay for businesses to deny services for whatever reason they see fit), but that is not to say that we agree to disagree.  We do however LISTEN and respect what the other person is saying… even when we think the other person is wrong.

We do not buy each other gifts to celebrate anything except one another’s birthday

I mean… unless we just want to… Random gifts are fine, but gifts to celebrate occasions … no way. So this means no Christmas, no Valentine’s Day, no anniversary, no Arbor Day, no Halloween…  So often there is pressure to get gifts…and it’s some weird hidden competition… Make sure you get the BEST gift… and it can add to disappointment if someone doesn’t meet your expectation. All of those days should be about celebrating the occasion, anyway… not about giving stuff.  So, when it’s our birthday, we celebrate the PERSON…  so that’s when it’s appropriate to give gifts.  And I just tell Richard what I want.  There’s no test with that…  He’s not very good at picking up on hints.  (Scratch that.  He’s TERRIBLE.  He has never gotten a hint in his life)… so why put the pressure on him?  If I know what I want, I ask him to get it for me.  End of.

Our finances are separate and I make sure all of our mutual bills are paid

Twice a month I transfer money from Richard’s account to mine to pay our rent, electricity, etc, so even though he makes significantly more than I do, we split our expenses down the middle.  He pays for most of our entertainment… but even that we take turns.  We do not question or judge one another about how we choose to use our money.  If I choose to spend $1000 on magic beans and shiny things, there would never be a fight over it because it’s MY money.  The same is true for him.  That’s his money to do with as he wishes.

No expectations

Richard USUALLY does the grocery shopping, makes dinner, does the dishes…  If he doesn’t do one of those things, know what happens?  I still eat.  I know where the store is.   And while I’m there, I ask him what HE wants for dinner so that I can get him something, too.  If he leaves the dishes in the sink instead of washing them.  I do them.  I USUALLY do the laundry, put the dishes away, general house pick up… Know what happens if I don’t?  Richard does his own clothes…. leaves mine on the bed for me.  If either one of us gets in a cleaning/ organizing mode and the other is sitting on the couch watching HOURS of television without lifting a hand, the one who decided to clean doesn’t get mad.

Appreciate EVERYTHING

On the nights that he DOES make dinner, I thank him… and I MEAN it.  EVERY TIME.  When he mows the lawn, when he buys me diet soda…  EVERYTHING.  I appreciate him SO MUCH.  And he’s the same for me… if I bring the trash can in, if I give the dog a bath, clean the fish tank.  Just appreciate all of the things you do for one another.

Go Ahead and Get Mad About the Little Stuff… and Fight it out Right at that Moment

Did he leave the toilet seat up AGAIN!   Wake his butt up…  make him get out of bed… and put it down… while he gets mad back at you for being so ridiculous about the toilet seat.  Did I leave a Diet Coke can in the sink when the recycle bin is in the cabinet right underneath?  Bring the can over to me.  Put it in my lap and yell at me for leaving garbage in the sink…  What you DON’T do is let those things fester and irritate and lead to bigger problems later.  Fighting is not something that needs to be avoided.

Maintain Your own Identity and Do Not Walk On Eggshells

We married each other for a reason.  Richard is a little socially awkward and stubborn.  I am opinionated and a little wild.  We knew we’d butt heads..  Who cares.  That’s fine.  If he’s mad , I don’t have to be careful because I might make him more mad.  If I’m being unreasonable, he doesn’t have to just accept it.  Be you…  And that goes for maintaining the things you like to do.  He should go hunt and fish without me.  I don’t want to go.  It doesn’t sound like any fun at all.  I also don’t want to go to the grocery store.  He doesn’t want to go hang out with me and my best guy friend.  Richard and I can do things without each other..  Once, I sent him out of town because I needed some time without him.  I told him.  He took the dog and went on his way.

Express Affection

In addition to saying we love each other about once an hour, we hold hands, we kiss, we hug, we cuddle.  We never leave a doubt that we love each other.

No Tests or Games or Hints

We are straight forward.  We do not ask a question knowing that there is an answer that we want…. and if we don’t get it the other person has somehow failed.  We say what we mean and mean what we say.  It makes life so much easier.

***********

So that’s it.  That’s what works for us.  It may not work for everyone else…  but it sure makes us happy!

A former student “shared” a very interesting Spike Lee tweet on Facebook the other day:

I found myself looking at it for a long time.

I agree.  It is like doing that…  but my thought is “is it WRONG to do that?”

Don’t misunderstand me.  I believe “no means no.”  I also believe that police should be professionals who do their job regardless of the way their charges are behaving.

That being said, shouldn’t we protect ourselves from having bad things happen?

We lock our doors so that criminals don’t steal our cars.  We insure or property so that if things get stolen we can get them back.  We look both ways when we cross a street even if we have the right of way.  We protect ourselves from OTHERS doing wrong to us all the time, so is this really that different?

No one should ever rape another human being… HOWEVER… when a drunk co-ed wears an itty bitty miniskirt with her assets entirely exposed, behaves flirtatiously all night, goes into a room with a drunk 20 year old… and then gets raped…

Is it her FAULT?  Absolutely NOT!   That young man deserves to be punished for crime he committed.  It was wrong!!!   BUT…  she could have protected herself a little bit more…

As for Sandy Bland… and those like her.  Have you watched the full video?  I would suggest it… there is a long lull between the very beginning, but things pick up again at 6:30.

Sandy Bland video

Here’s the thing…  was that officer in the right?  ABSOLUTELY NOT.  You can tell that they’re annoyed with one another from the very beginning.

I mean, seriously, who wants to be pulled over for not signalling a lane change?  Annoying, right?

How many times have you been pulled over and thought, “Really, officer?  You don’t have anything better to do than to pull me over for my registration sticker?  How about you go solve a crime…”

But should you SAY that?  Absolutely NOT!!!

You can SEE where he snaps.  She’s clearly giving him attitude through the whole video.  When she refuses to put the cigarette out… He loses it.

Now, it was a dick move on his part… a control move… an “I’m the cops and you’re not” move…

But now she’s dead.

Is it his fault she died?

I think partly it is.  I think he could have handled the situation a whole lot better.  You don’t arrest someone because she’s being bitchy and questioning your manhood…

But it’s partly her fault, too.

Being pulled over by police is NEVER pleasant.  No one likes to be caught doing the wrong thing.  And, let’s be honest, police officers often have a certain attitude…

But I don’t even think this is about being black (and maybe it’s unfair that I say it because I’m white…)  but it’s about knowing how to act in GENERAL.

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure…

The Internet has reminded me that today would have been Robin Williams’ 64th birthday… and not for the first time since August 12, 2014, I find myself weeping about his death.

Yes, I cry because I felt as though I knew him… Mr. Keating, Peter Pan, Mrs. Doubtfire, genie in a bottle, Sean Maguire, Mork…

But I cry because I STILL know “him” and I see him in people every day… and I see his family in other families, and it’s just so fucking sad I can’t stand it!   I don’t believe in profanity.  I think you choose the right word for the right situation, but Robin Williams’ death and the death of so many others who are killed by mental illness and depression are so fucking sad for everyone involved there is no better word.

At risk of being Alex Jonesesque by sending you back to my former blog, I posted about how we needed to eradicate the world of the phrase “committed suicide.”  Committed has negative connotations and anything ending in “cide” indicates intentional death.  Robin Williams died because he ran out of choices.  He did not make a “permanent solution to a temporary problem.”  His problem was lifelong and he had been in treatment for it forever.  It was chronic and it was terminal.  That poor man was in so much pain for so long.  He had to suffer through day after day after day of the torture of looking normal while he was in constant mental pain.  It’s so fucking sad.

And his family…  My heart BREAKS for his wife, his ex wife, his kids, everyone who loved him.  Do you know how badly they wanted to help?  Do you know how it must have ripped them apart to have those glimmers of hope… to see him getting a little bit better?  I’m sure he had those days where he thought everything would be fine this time, and I’m sure his family wanted to ride that wave with him…   All they wanted was for him to get better because they loved him so much and hurt with him every time he was in pain.

And the GUILT when it was all over… that moment of relief his family felt that THEY didn’t have to suffer through his pain anymore either.  How do you live with that guilt?  You want that person back more than ANYTHING in the world.  You want them to be beside you… because maybe THIS time the pain really would stop.  Maybe just the ATTEMPT of ending their life would be enough, and THIS time they could be okay…  But inside, that NAGGING, ENDLESS guilt of how glad you are not to have to watch your loved one endure such relentless mental anguish.  Is it because you’re glad their pain is over, or is because you’re glad you don’t have to witness it anymore?  And how do you deal with the guilt if the latter is more true than the former?

It’s just so fucking sad!

Clearly, this is not just about Robin Williams.

Clearly this is for anyone who struggles with mental illness, panic attacks, anxiety, depression and the insidious, ugly grip they have over people who don’t deserve to struggle…  it’s also for the friends and family members who struggle along beside them in their pain.

I see Shirley MacLaine in the most gut-wrenching movie scene ever from Terms of Endearment screaming that the time had passed to give her daughter the shot

and my heart BREAKS… because there IS no relief from the pain of depression for so many.  Sure, medication works for some… but not all.  For others it leaves them feeling so numb and zombie like it’s this half life that doesn’t really exist at all.

I’m not sure that mental illness/depression is something that can be cured or managed.  I do hope it’s something about which people can learn to show more compassion.  People will show compassion to an obese smoker dying of heart disease and cancer which they knowingly brought upon themselves; yet they will tell someone who is suffering from depression that they need to “get over it.”  or get angry when then can’t explain why they hurt.  Yes, they CAN see all the good in their lives… they just can’t appreciate it, and it’s just so fucking sad!

I am LUCKY.  I do not suffer from depression… and that’s ALL it is… dumb luck!   I also don’t have AIDS or cancer or ALS or a myriad of other things that wouldn’t be my fault. But I know people who do and I ache for them.  I can’t help.  I can’t make it any better…I can just… 

The brain is an organ.  It is a very complicated organ… and sometimes, in some people, it just won’t work right… No matter how hard they fight or what they do they can’t feel better.  They can’t tell you what’s wrong…  and they can’t just fix it.

I miss Robin Williams.  But I hope he’s at peace.

And I really, really hope his family is, too.

A few weeks ago I was talking to my oldest nephew at dinner, and his story got more and more outrageous.  Finally, I looked at him and said, “Really?”  I guess he could read the incredulity in my gaze.  He responded,  “Fine!   So maybe I was telling something of a fish tale…”  (which cracked me up in and of itself.  I mean, he’s 6 1/2… I love it when kids say things like that…)

But it got me thinking about little white lies… big ol’ fibs… when they start… why they start…  and if they ever stop?

I was a HUGE liar in my early teens through my early 20s.  I made up stories just for the sake of having something to say, I think.  I never really realized that everyone KNEW I was lying until a very good friend called me out on it.  I’m still very grateful to her… ’cause how SILLY!   I think it stemmed from unhappiness about myself… or thoughts that  I had a boring life, or something like that.  Not sure… but I lied A LOT.

I do find it a little upsetting that some of my family still refers to stories that are COMPLETELY true as “Tamidotes”  (the colloquialism they gave to the lie-filled stories of my youth).  I am now about as honest as any human being can be.  ALL the time.  But… I understand the “little girl who cried truth,” and the fact that those who knew me in the Tamidote days may have trouble with my current veracity… but I have been a recovering liar since about 2000.

My nephew… and the impending return to school make me think of my first WHOPPER.

My family had just moved to a new house in Algonquin, Illinois.  I was in third grade during the second half of the year and had just turned eight.  (I started Kindergarten at 4.  That was the norm in Illinois.  As long as your birthday was in the first semester, you started before you were 5.  However, I taught myself to read when I was 3 1/2, so I was reading at a 1st grade level before I started Kindergarten.  They didn’t have advanced classes, so they just moved me to higher grade level rooms during reading times…  that’s not just humble bragging… I think it led to some of my “issues” which are germane to this story.)

So… as a third grader I was PAINFULLY shy.  I was very introverted, and moving to a new school in the middle of the year was super hard.

When my class was doing social studies time, I noticed that they were doing some kind of project on Illinois.  They were in the middle of the project when I arrived, but the last thing I wanted to do was call attention to myself, so I never asked what they were doing.  Every day , for weeks, when the kids would start working on the project, I would PRETEND to be working.l  I would dutifully look in encyclopedias.  I would quietly cut things out and paste them on paper, but I had NO idea what sort of project I was supposed to be accomplishing.

Also, at Kenneth E. Neubert Elementary no one ever showed me where there was a bathroom.  Don’t feel TOO sorry for me. I was EIGHT.  I was old enough to ask where the bathroom was, but I never did. In my old school we all took restroom breaks together.  That was not the case at Neubert.  I would hold it as long as I could, but I never asked ANYONE where the bathroom was. And, because I didn’t know, I wet my pants on the walk home from school EVERY SINGLE DAY.  My mom wanted to check and see if I had some kind of bladder/kidney problem.  I told her that it was just because it was a long walk…  I KNEW she would be mad at me for not asking.  I knew that I was supposed to ask questions when I needed help (still not one of my best things…  ) but that was not the BIG lie… it was just a small part of it.

The big lie came when the project was due.  I insisted over and over again that I HAD turned it in…knowing all along that I didn’t even know what “it” was that I was supposed to turn in!  So, of course, under questioning, I caved.

I did the whole project… learned about the Illinois state flag and the cardinal and Walt Whitman and Carl Sandburg…

…and so it leaves me thinking about TWO things.

First, lying in and of itself…  maybe the first lies start from self preservation?  Maybe ALL lies are some sort of self preservation?  (and that’s why parents shouldn’t get TOO fired up when teachers say that their kids have prevaricated….  it’s not a reflection on parents… people lie… period…)

But it also got me thinking about schools.

People talk about how AWFUL schools are today, but can you imagine that happening?  I am taking blame for this.  I KNOW I was eight.  I should have advocated.  I was old enough to understand, but WOW, I was shy.  (Got over that!!!).  I find it hard to picture a brand new student going in to a school today and being THAT overlooked…

That’s when I think things like NCLB started in a GOOD place…  that schools make sure that students don’t get lost and fall through the cracks…  but too much of a good thing leads to harm…

…maybe like too much self preservation leads to dishonesty…

I have the afternoon off work, and a little time before my workout, so…

I’ve been thinking about the things that WEAKEN arguments.  I actually think I’m going to start my AP class with this activity this year!   I’m going to have them sit down and think about arguments they’ve been in.  I want them to think about what tactics they’ve used… what’s had an effect on them.  How they’ve been able to affect others.   I think it’s going to be good!  I’m going to use that to dive into some pathos, ethos, logos action.

But… I was thinking about the things the I think weaken arguments. (These are in no particular order).

1.  Lack of Specific Reasoning

People can tell me how they think/feel all day long.  But how something makes another person FEEL is not an argument.  This is one of the hardest things for my weak writers.  I ask “Which is more important, good luck or hard work?” and I get an essay back that says “Hard work is important… because when you work hard you can get more things from working hard.  People who work hard have a better chance of doing good than someone who is just trying to buy lottery tickets or something.  Hard workers are the ones who get farthest in life.”  Yes, yes, I understand your THESIS now… but give me PROOF!   (The same is true on the Internet.  I know how you FEEL… now, show me why you’re RIGHT!)

2.  Invalid Sources

This one is simple.  If you’re trying to convince a liberal to believe what you say, don’t use “Conservatism today” as your source.  Alex Jones, stop sending me to “infowars” and “prison planet” to verify the things you’re spewing.  Christians, stop giving my the Bible as proof that what the Bible says is true.  Consider your audience and what may convince them. Don’t send me to your blog as evidence… or most anyone’s blog for that matter.  Give me something reliable or something to which I can relate.  I want to understand what you’re saying, but you need to have FACTS.

3.  Profanity

It’s abrasive and rude.  It gets your readers’/listeners’ defenses up… and makes them more prepared to fight than to listen.

4. Bad Grammar/Spelling

Okay, so maybe this is more for me than others, but I see the grammar nazis attacking CONSTANTLY on the Interwebs. I try to refrain, but I was having a debate with someone this morning about whether or not America was built on Christianity.  She told me that our “four fathers” fought for our God given rights.  Which “four fathers” would those be? Jefferson, Washington, Adams, and Moe?  As soon as she said that, she lost ethos for me.  Yes, I am an English teacher, but people WILL judge you on your ability to communicate…  and poor grammar and spelling can lead to my next weak argument problem…

5.Ad Hominem attack/losing your temper

This goes back to number 3.  When people’s defenses are up, they tend to stop arguing about an idea and start attacking people instead.  Outside of marriage, this never truly works.  (Kidding, there, that was a tongue in cheek statement.  Richard and I are AWESOME arguers… we practice daily… and it’s never personal!)  When you lose the facts and turn to attack, the argument is lost.

6. Superfluous repetition

Maybe you have a reason that you think is really good… Not just really good but great.  So you say it once… and then you come back to it again in a different way… and you use the same reason but with different words.  And then you do the same reason,. but now it’s an analogy… and you give the same reason but in a different situation.  GIVE IT UP!   If it was a good reason, it will stick…  Use it… explain it… move on.

7.  Lack of acknowledgement that the other side has a point

If you don’t ever mention the other side, even if it’s just to debunk it, your argument is less convincing. If you are speaking to a HOSTILE audience, you want to be sure that they know you understand what they are saying before you try to debunk their thoughts. (One of those “four” fathers… Patrick Henry… did an AMAZING job of this in his “Speech to the Virginia Convention.” I LOVE that speech.  I tell my students that it is the rhetorical equivalent of Rob Zombie’s “Dragula.”  It makes me want to run through walls and then chew the cinder blocks, but I digress.)

8. Being unaware of your audience

This is all about Aristotle and the rhetorical triangle.  Be sure you know who you’re talking to before you begin.  I am not going to have the same discussion about rhetoric with my AP English class that I would with my six year old nephew.  I also would approach the issue of gay marriage differently with the Westboro Baptist Church than I would with a courtroom clerk in San Francisco.  If you don’t care who you’re talking to and what THEY believe; then, all hope of your argument being received is lost.

I listen to a morning talk show on the way to work.  Dudley and Bob on KLBJ have an “outrage countdown clock.”  It’s like one of those things you see in warehouses that says  “It has been ____ days since our last accident.”  They quickly realized, however, that the outrage clock was never going to work.  They had to restart it every five seconds or so because someone somewhere on some form of social media was ALWAYS screaming his or her outrage and demanding IMMEDIATE justice.

I think this is one of those cases where the idea of being “politically correct” made sense at first. Then, like in so many other cases, people took a good idea too far and it went ALL wrong.

Hate is bad.  Attaching a kid to a fence and leaving him to die because he’s gay is wrong.  Dragging a man from the back of a truck because he is black is wrong.

We were horrified.  We wanted to see people punished for their actions, and they were because they should have been, and that was good.

But you know how it is… people are given an inch, and they want a mile.  WELL, if THAT is wrong…  so is fat shaming, so is ageism, so is carnivores posting pictures of cheeseburgers, so is {insert your own outrage here.}

And the problem has become what many people refer to as the “PC police”… the “wussification of America” or many other not so nice things.

When I come across something that I find offensive, I essentially have three choices:

1. Be offended and go on my merry way.
2. Be offended and tell others why I think that their actions/beliefs/decisions/comments are offensive in order to stand up for what I believe and for the beliefs of others.
3. Be offended and scream and cry “Homophobe, racist, bigot, ignoramus!!  How DARE you use words that I do not like.  You must apologize to me.  You must apologize to all of society.  In fact, you must lose your job and be shunned by society in order for me to be happy!”

Sad to say, it seems that choice number three is far too often the choice.

So… after the terrible shootings in Charleston, a volunteer firefighter made an online comment that seemed to praise the shooter.  He was subsequently fired from his VOLUNTEER job. He explained that was not the case at all but only after he had already been fired!

 I had such mixed feelings about this when I heard about it.  I thought, “Well, you really don’t want a racist who thinks you should shoot people to be someone who is supposed to rescue…”  On the other hand, do we really want people to be fired over what they THINK?  Shouldn’t he be allowed to post his thoughts on a news article?  Do we really need that  consequence to our own outrage?

Even MORE horrifying, I only read what HE said happened today.  He claimed  that his praise was NOT for the shooter but to a DIFFERENT comment on the thread wherein he praised someone for raising money for the victims’ families.  He was a 23-year volunteer, and he lost his position over ONE comment.  Is that right? How many people will never even HEAR his follow up?  Will those who thought he should be fired ever admit to being wrong if they hear his explanation?

Or let’s take teachers… obviously this is near and dear to my heart.  It seems these days that we are reverting back to the rules for  teachers in the early 1800s.    I accept and understand that part of my job is to be a role model, but apparently part of that job is to be a role model and NEVER make any mistakes.  Recently, in Pflugerville a teacher was forced to resign because she used a racial slur to make a point.  Even after the teacher resigned, the mother of the student who was offended by the slur still was not satisfied  The mother demanded a public apology.  She wanted her pound of flesh. Was this the appropriate way to handle offending ONE student ONE time?

As I was typing this blog, I saw this great Stephen Fry meme:  

The irony is that as I was getting ready to post it, I started thinking… “Uh oh… the “F” word…  I don’t want to offend anyone.”

Yes, Kindness does matter… and there’s no reason to be purposely rude or offensive, but just because you’re offended, that does not mean someone has to pay you back.  That does not mean that someone OWES you something.  

Yes, the Internet and the world of social media as a whole is an interesting li’l’ place, isn’t it?  It will be interesting to see what happens with all of this once the world figures out proper decorum and etiquette for Internet opinions…

Until then, remember…

You can say what you want to say.  I can react to what you say.

And that’s really the end of it.  You don’t need to apologize.  You don’t need to lose your job.  You don’t need to go to “human being” training.

And I need to learn to grow a thicker skin and get over it because no one except me cares that I’m offended.  🙂

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I saw this meme today… and I thought about “polite small talk.”  I’m all for this.  Every morning I babble with acquaintances about my day… about my life. I make friendly chitchat and am a moderately well adjusted individual who can generally function in society.  I understand the importance of maintaining this superficial communication to make sure the world is running smoothly.

There’s THAT and then there’s TALKING

I’ve always found the idea that we SHOULDN’T discuss religion or politics to be very odd.  After all, aren’t all the “teams” always trying to recruit new members?

Yeah, yeah… I get that it’s all personal and private and it’s no one’s business but your own.  But does it have to be?  I’ve often heard if you want to keep your friends never discuss politics and religion.

What I don’t understand is how differences of opinion can bring an end to friendships and relationships.

Your religion is an opinion.  I know you have faith.  Faith tells you it’s the one truth.  Faith says it’s fact…

but c’mon… you’re an educated person… it’s not a fact.  It’s just not.  You cannot conclusively prove that your religion is true… You just can’t.

I cannot prove that it ISN’T true, nor do I have any desire to do so.

You also cannot say that your beliefs on the economy, immigration, taxation, health care, etc. etc. are the ONLY alternative.  They are not.  They may be the only thing YOU see as being logical, but it is not FACT just because you deem it so.

It is dangerous to think it is.  In the words of Patrick Henry, “For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it..”

There was a fantastic article by Walter Lippmann in the Atlantic Monthly  in 1939 called “The Indispensible Opposition.” In short it said that we NEED to know the other side.  Yes, in some ways just as an attorney does so that he can find cracks and flaws, but it’s so much more than that.  We need to know WHY people think a certain way so that we can continually evaluate and adjust our own way of thinking.  If we don’t, our own position becomes continually weaker.

Social media SHOULD have been something that made this more attainable than it ever had been before.  I read opinions every day that I find so shocking to me I’m quite sure they’re satire.  I’m sure some people reading my words feel the same way about my opinions.  We have become more and more aware of the other opinions around us, and I’m scared about what seems to be happening as a result.

I’ve talked before about people who are comfortable only in their own echo chamber.  They look to discuss things with people who tell them they’re right… and are ever determined to be told that they are.  Often when someone tells them that they are not,  it escalates into completely unrelated personal attacks.  Again, it’s not being “right” that’s important… it’s about being “informed.”

Then, there’s the other side to that coin…  the idea of INTOLERANCE vs. DISAGREEMENT.. 

I cannot stress enough that these are two DIFFERENT things.  In this age of social media they get confused far too often.

I see these this statement or some variation ALL of the time.  I mainly see it stated by someone who is using the Bible and Christianity as the basis for their argument:

“Isn’t interesting how the people who say we need to be tolerant are the most INTOLERANT of people who disagree with them.”

Intolerant of what?

If I tell you that I do not agree with you,  that does NOT mean I’m intolerant of your views or your opinions.

You have every right to believe the way that you do.  You can express your opinion.  You can tell me how you feel.  You can tell me why.   You can give me the evidence that you think is strongest to support your opinion.  You can give me what you perceive to be fact and tell me why I’m wrong… and why I’m what’s wrong with America today and why the whole country is going to hell because I don’t have any morals.

I will reply to you that I don’t need a book to teach me morals.  I know what’s right and what’s wrong and how good people treat others.  I do not agree with your ideas about abortion, death penalty, LBGT, etc…

Never anywhere in my above thoughts did I say I don’t tolerate you.

I don’t AGREE with you.

I do tolerate you.

In fact, I NEED you.

I need to know what you think.  Your opposition is indispensible.  Do not consider me a “lost cause” and turn your head on me because I challenge your thoughts.  Defend your thoughts and take the time to LISTEN to mine as well.  Maybe I have a point.  Maybe I have some other thought you need to debunk.

Opinions are NOT what makes us who we are, friends.  The way we use what we believe to act in one way or another makes us who we are.

So let’s sit back, have a drink… and talk about why Bernie Sanders and Marco Rubio would make the best possible running mates as we make Buddhism the mandatory religion for the Sovereign Nation of Texas.

Who’s with me?

Yes, Yes… I know…  “Tamara, seriously, do you have anything better to do?” Of COURSE, I do…

I took the dog for a two mile walk.  I need to go to the store because i promised to cook dinner.  I need to clean up, but right now I WANT to do this!   (Be glad I’m going back to work on Monday!)

Have you seen this before?  I’ve seen the video, too, that left me thinking “What is that?  No seriously WHAT IS THAT?!?  You say it’s a baby chupacabra?  It CAN’T BE… but WHAT is THAT?” Later on, they said it was a raccoon with mange.  I still have a lot of trouble believing that.  Why does it make that noise?

Walks like a chupacabra, looks like a chupacabra?  Must be a chupacabra? I don’t know that it’s that easy…

So…  let me beat the dead horse a little.  Let’s talk about Jenner.  (I won’t refer to Jenner much directly in this blog because I don’t want to insult or upset anyone by using incorrect pronouns when I am referring to Jenner; therefore, it gets unwieldy,  but Jenner is my “subject” for purposes of my discussion.)

Okay, first I know that the Libertarians say “I couldn’t care less.  I don’t know why there’s so much discussion.  Does this affect ME?  Am I going to have to pay for something regarding this?  As long as there are no laws being made or taxes being spent I couldn’t care less about what this person does.”

I know that the Liberals are saying “Yes!  Yes!   Good for you!   Let the world see who you are!  Be yourself!   You are so strong and so brave! We need someone like you to blaze the path”

And I know the GOP is saying “This is a sin!  It’s a crime against nature!   This is wrong and the Bible says so!”

I find myself wondering about science…  for real… the rationality and the logic of it… My thought about homosexuality has always been that it is perfectly natural.

What makes me think this?  Well, I have never been attracted to a female.  From the time I had my very first attraction, that attraction was to a male.  That was in my nature.  That’s who made me get the warm fuzzies and feel bubble guts.  I wanted to get married and have a husband.  That’s what’s always been in my head. My gay friends tell me it was the same thing with them… they always saw the SAME sex in that matter.  Now, because society shamed them, sometimes they tried valiantly to NOT feel that way… but they couldn’t any more than I could see myself wanting to make a life with another woman.  They’re just not built that way.

I have toyed with whether to make this comparison at all or not…  because I don’t want to be insulting to my gay friends, nor do I want to add fuel to the fire of any dogmatic heterosexuals… but everyone’s BRAIN is built differently.  Some people are born with OCD tendencies, or they’re more hyper competitive, or they’re Autistic, or they’re geniuses…  we’re ALL different. Yes, some of those things need to be treated so that individuals can function in society.  We don’t just LET people be paranoid schizophrenics, but that’s because they HURT other people.  Being LGBT doesn’t hurt anyone.

(“It does though!   It does!   It is destroying our society to just accept!!!  The Bible says it’s wrong and we need to live by what the Bible says!”)

Um… no, no WE don’t.  You go right ahead and do that.  I know church won’t let you say this, but the bible has theories and stories, just like big bang is a theory, just like the atheists may be wrong… but that’s not what I’m talking about here… I’m thinking about logic and science… so I’m CURIOUS.

Okay..  so if we are born hard wired to be attracted to who we’re going to be attracted to… Isn’t it POSSIBLE that there are a lot of other things hard wired into us as well… We KNOW that personalities are based on both nature and nurture… And I find myself wondering if just because we walk like ducks and talk like ducks and the whole world tells us we’re ducks, are we really?

I have read a lot about how truly close in DNA and in chemical makeup men and women really are…  there is so little variation between genders… isn’t it POSSIBLE that in some people’s minds… that they mentally DO see themselves as the other sex and believe they’re the other sex?

For me, (ugh… am I REALLY going to write this?  Well, if you’re still reading I guess I’ll go ahead and share…), I’m PRETTY sure I have an excess of testosterone.  Why do I say this?  Well, first, there’s that complete lack of mothering instinct.  I was born without it.  I don’t have it at all… But more than that… Facial recognition software almost ALWAYS thinks I’m a man.  There’s something about the structure of my face that makes me masculine…  and finally, there’s the whole facial hair thing.  Not nice, soft, facial hair.  Stubbly man hair… to the point that when I went to get it waxed they told me I couldn’t because it was “man hair.”  They said those words.  Humiliating… because in my head I KNOW I’m a woman…

But in Jenner’s head… Jenner knew that, too.  Jenner knew Jenner was a woman.  Jenner’s hormones said that during J’s entire life.

(“But God made him a MAN!  My own eyes TELL me that’s a man!   I know a man when I see one!!” )

Remember, leave religion out of this.  I’m truly trying to be logical and scientific. Just because it looks like a chupacabra to you… is it really?

Just because it’s something different than what’s “right” to you is that what it has to be? I’m not so sure…

(“I’m sure because HE had to get SURGERY to make him look like a woman.  HE is a man.” )

Again, I’m not so sure… Women AND men get surgery ALL the time to make themselves look more like how they think they should look.  We chastise and shame the “cat lady” and the Joan Rivers of the world and make fun of them for getting TOO much plastic surgery… Ah, but what’s a little ol’ boob job if it makes you feel better about yourself, right?

You can get a fake tan and dye your hair and put on some concealer.  Should THAT be allowed?  If that’s the way that GOD made you shouldn’t you just accept everything about yourself and make NO alterations?

…getting off track there, Tamara… SCIENCE remember??? So I’m just wondering…  Is the greatest athlete in the world (circa 1976) a man just because that’s what our EYES tell us?  Isn’t there more to a person than their appearance?  I don’t know what the ratio of testosterone to estrogen is running through Jenner’s system… I don’t know what J’s NATURE makes J think. I just know I think it’s really really interesting… .

..and I know that I STILL have a really hard time believing that “chupacabra” is really a racoon.

I have had the privilege of co-teaching a credit recovery class during the last three years with one of the strongest, smartest, and most compassionate women I have ever met in my life

She taught me about a phenomenon that I hadn’t given that much thought.  Then I realized I’m a perpetrator. I am recovering “right fighter.”

You may have heard the cliche before.  “Don’t worry about WHO is right, worry about WHAT is right…”  I had before, too… but when I read it I would often think “EXACTLY!!  And what *I* believe is RIGHT… so EVERYONE should agree with me!!!!”

What I have learned is that is absolute and complete hogwash.

“Right fighting” basically goes like this: You have a VERY firmly held belief.  You are a gay rights advocate.  You are a pro life advocate.  You are a Mormon.  You are a Libertarian.  You are a Crossfitter, a vegan, a paleodieter, a cyclist… and EVERYTHING you believe is correct.  Your life has never been better and EVERYONE should agree with you!

You have seen the LIGHT!!!  Humans should not have milk!!!

So you take your crusade to Instagram and Twitter and Facebook…

Lo and behold!!!  Look!!!!  There are people like you out there EVERYWHERE!   They all agree with you!!!  Of COURSE the human body was never meant to take in dairy!   It’s CLEAR… All the research says so!   Look at how RIGHT you are!   Look at how everyone else is as RIGHT as I am!!!!

Then… some insidious milk drinker infiltrates your inner circle.  The milk drinker tells you that you are wrong.  Oh no!!!  This person who eats cheese needs to be told the truth!!  We need to make sure that this lactose lover learns the error of his ways.  Then all of the other milk drinkers circle their wagons.

Well, turns out the milk drinker has friends, too… and they have seen your comments, and they join in the battle.  They are talking about milk and how you NEED it… How you need vitamin D and calcium.

You and your spinach eating buddies begin to get ANGRY.  You KNOW the milk drinkers are WRONG!   How DARE these people be so intolerant!!  They NEED to understand how wrong they are.  Your feelings are hurt by the jabs these people are throwing at you.

So… You do the only sensible thing!   You attack their grammar!  Yes, yes… that’s how you prove them wrong!   You instantly resort to telling them that they need to learn the difference between homonyms before they enter in your erudite milk argument.  Somewhere along the way they tell you that your mother wears combat boots… and the argument is over.  You collapse into a heap of sobs thinking how lost the poor soul is for not understanding the importance of the dairy argument and you return to your lactose liaison for comfort as they all pat you on the back telling you how very RIGHT you are.

Yup… it really is that silly.

Why does it matter so much to us if people AGREE with us?  Just because we have a difference of opinion does not mean that we have to walk around convincing EVERYONE to see things our way.  Make no mistake…  religion, politics, abortion, education, gender identification…  they are ALL opinions.  ALL of them!

It is often difficult to differentiate someone having a disagreement from someone being intolerant.  Far too many people think that a difference of opinion means that it’s time to put the gloves on and that you MUST convince someone to see things your way.

I really used to be like that.  I wouldn’t rest until I could at least make someone say, “Yes, I see your side…” or they would risk the wrath of my insulting their grammar skills.

But then, I started to think, “Wait… Why am I doing this?  What is my point?  What is my endgame?  Do I really expect the ENTIRE world to agree with everything I think?”  (Granted, everything I think is right and it would be a lovely world if everyone else would just realize that. ;-p)

So, my coworker helped me see the truth.  There is really no point in “right fighting.”  Yes, my convictions are still as strong as they ever were.  Yes, I will still take to Facebook to show you how I feel.  Yes, I will still stand in front of my classroom and pontificate and wax philosophical about what I believe to be true.

But as for you???

Drink the milk or don’t.  I’ll always be interested to hear about what you decided.