tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7520626402957217392023-11-15T12:28:35.738-05:00Intercultural LinkMy passion is helping people from differing backgrounds talk and perhaps get to know each other a bit better. I specialize in domestic U.S. cultural issues, unlike my colleagues throughout the world who work internationally. Collectively we call ourselves interculturalists...people who work between cultures trying to bring them closer together.
Every two weeks I'll be posting my thoughts, rants, book recommendations and maybe even some ideas that may help us all "just get along."deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-23118956424996909222012-05-21T23:59:00.000-04:002012-05-21T23:59:31.346-04:00Where is the Love?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was watching MSNBC, which I suppose is a bad idea because I almost always wind up being depressed. Tonight two stories appalled me. The first was about attempts to limit who can vote by requiring more stringent voter IDs. Called "voter suppression laws," opponents are charging such laws target voter of color, young and elderly people and the poor. Some reports verify that voter registration and actual voting among those groups has dropped. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The second story reported on four ministers who have been preaching against legalizing gay marriage. One suggested to fathers that as soon as a father "saw that limp wrist" the father should beat it. Another, even more horrifying, suggested building a huge electric fenced in area and "rounding up" lesbians and gay men who would be held there. He suggested that food be dropped in but "since they can't have children" the people in the enclosure would eventually die out. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unfortunately, these stories are not that unique. I think in the past I've talked about the calls to "take back our country." (I always suspect that, since I don't agree with the viewpoint of these people, they are talking about me. I work and pay my taxes, the times I've missed voting in <b>any</b> election can be counted on one hand, and I don't steal or otherwise take what is not mine. What have I done to cause them to consider me an enemy?) More recently, some politicians have come out in the open and called the president a traitor. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Although from the national political scene, these examples they are not unique to it. At work a class participant became very angry because she was expecting sandwiches for her lunch and instead was served hot food. An instructor told me she was shocked at the nastiness of some of the comments she received on her feedback form. I could go, but it's too depressing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't know what is happening to us as people but it seems that not only are we blithely destroying the earth, but we're also now turning on each other. And for what? Is it making our lives any easier or happier? Do we get more money or more swag by being mean? At the end of the day, do we feel any better about the past ten or twelve hours when we've spent them slashing and burning everyone and everything in sight? No we don't. We <b>know</b> for a fact we don't. Our health suffers, our relationships suffer and we wind up less and less satisfied with our lives, feeling we're missing something but not sure what. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So I have a challenge for all of us. For the next month, do the following things <b><i>every day</i></b>: 1. Find something to be grateful for and just spend a moment being grateful for it. Pick something different every day. 2. Stop yourself at least once during the day when you're going to be negative, mean, catty, dismissive or otherwise not nice. Don't say it, don't do it. Ignore the jerk who cut you off. Bite your tongue when you want to yell at your kid. Stop the sarcastic comment to your colleague before you say it. Smile at your spouse or partner when you want to roll your eyes. And then let's see what happens. Check your life at the end of the month and see if you're not at least a tad bit happier, less stressed, more rested and more productive. We may not be able to save the world but perhaps we can save ourselves. That's a start. </span>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-23410606435730214432012-04-29T00:01:00.001-04:002012-04-29T00:01:49.691-04:00To Give or Not to Give<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When was the last time you did something completely unselfishly? There is a school of thought that says people <i>never</i> act without selfish motivation, somewhere, somehow you reap a benefit from it. I can live with feeling good about yourself if you act unselfishly. I can live with liking that others like you more if you're unselfish. What I can't live with is not being able to give unless there is some tangible, immediate reward. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've been thinking about selflessness because a colleague recently died. In the 20 years I've known her I've watched her get involved with project after project, float idea after idea. Some related to her formal job, most did not. It didn't matter. She knew no borders and took most refusals as "maybe." In all that time, I never saw her do something to directly benefit herself. She worked to advance women. She worked to help general staff have more opportunities. She worked to create more positive, empowering workplaces. She worked for the general good. She didn't work for Karen. If she benefited it was indirectly and certainly not in any financial or political way. She wasn't made supervisor or special advisor. She was always just Karen working for others. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Contrast that to what has happened in Michigan. Michigan has what is called an Emergency Manager provision. Under certain circumstances the governor can appoint an emergency manager to run a city or school district. Within the last couple of years, Michigan's governor has appointed emergency managers to a number of cities. These managers have then fired elected officials, in essence effectively negating the will of the voters. In order to counter what is seen as a usurping of their rights, voters distributed petitions to get the issue put on the ballot. When the petitions were submitted to officials, they were rejected due to a technicality over font size. The vote to reject the petitions was along strictly party lines. Those who voted "no" were the party of the governor who appointed the managers.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One could argue this is politics and loyalty is expected and rewarded. But that is my point. Politicians are elected to represent <i>us</i> the voters. Their loyalty <i>should </i>be to us, the voters. No one knows the political affiliation of the people who signed those petitions. The only thing anyone knows is that over 200,000 voters in the state of Michigan want an opportunity to vote on the issue. The officials who denied the voters that opportunity have forgotten they are there for us, not them. They have forgotten that when we seek to serve we do it not for ourselves, but for the good of others. We do it because there is some higher good we seek, whether we benefit from it or not. Karen knew that. It's too bad so many of us don't. </span>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-34278947856345448982012-02-20T20:32:00.002-05:002012-02-20T22:45:02.237-05:00Whitney Who?This past Saturday I watched the funeral of singer and actress Whitney Houston. I didn't expect to watch, let alone spend most of the day in front of the TV. Certainly I thought she had an incredible voice but I didn't consider myself a fan, nor was I particularly interested in her life with Bobby. However, I found myself getting increasingly sad until I found myself sitting in front of the TV, tears running down my face. I stayed for the four hour funeral, I stayed for the analysis afterwards and I stayed for a showing of The Bodyguard. What was going on?<div><br /><div>On Sunday one of my friends posted a picture of the caskets of fallen service personnel with the caption, "Whitney Who?" Earlier, someone else had posted their anger over a celebrity being given so much press, while the horrible genetic disease that ravishes her child, goes unnoticed. I understand the viewpoints of both of these people and, to a certain extent, share them. But I think the death of Whitney Houston is about more than just the death of a celebrity. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Whitney apparently had everything. Not only did she have talent but she had the kind of infrastructure and support that most aspiring artists only dream about. She had a mother and aunt who were popular singers in their own right. They knew the business and had the contacts. She came from a huge religious community who loved her. She was gorgeous and she was smart. She ultimately became an international star with more chart topping songs than any other artist, while showing the world that she could also act. <b>All </b>of that and yet, she died alone under circumstances that still aren't clear, and after agreeing to go back into rehab for still one more try. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've come to believe a good portion of our grief at her death has nothing to do with Whitney but rather because it terrifies <b>us</b>. It represents something we'd rather not face. If anyone should be able to overcome her demons, it should be someone like Whitney Houston. Money, friends, family, religion, resources galore, she had it all. And yet, no one could save her. I believe that Whitney was not just a celebrity who died but she's also a terrible symbol of our inability to really be in control of our lives. I've written before about the image we have of ourselves as independent, in-control of our own fate, individualists. But the death of someone like Whitney shows us that no matter how much money or fame or knowledge we have, we still can lose. Charlie Sheen made a joke of the word, "WINNER!" but people took to it because he identified something that we, as a country, believe ourselves to be. Unfortunately, Whitney showed us we can also be losers. We grieve yet understand a soldier dying. We have rituals and honors for that. We may not understand a baby dying from a rare disease, but we have organizations and support groups for that. But someone like Whitney, like <b>us</b>, when we can't cope, when life takes over us, instead of us taking over it, there is nothing for that. And <b>that</b> is the horror for us. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-75653770451654966852012-02-20T20:21:00.002-05:002012-02-20T20:32:36.447-05:00Hello againI'd like to thank everyone for being so patient with me as I've struggled through the last year of my life. Maybe some day I'll write about it, but not today. Today I just want to announce I think I'm back to writing and hope you'll be hearing from me at least once a month. <div><br /></div><div>I still intend to keep the original intent of this blog and that is to write to challenge you, but in order to help us understand each other. I hope I succeed. </div><div><br /></div><div>PS...for some reason once I post these blog entries the fonts seem to change. I apologize for any odd font issues. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-69853071833500376752011-01-15T18:48:00.003-05:002011-01-15T19:42:10.132-05:00All You Need Is Love<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In addition to hate, I've done a lot of thinking about love and what it demands of those who love. Far better people than I have written on the topic but these are my humble thoughts.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: small; color: rgb(31, 73, 125); "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I believe that loving someone means you want the best for them. It doesn't mean giving them everything they want ... sometimes "no" or "I can't" is the most loving thing a person can say. To a child, "No, you can't go out with the people who may get you in trouble." To a friend or spouse, "I can't do what you ask of me because it goes against what I believe and I love you enough to be honest, and trust you enough that you will accept my decision." </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I believe that sometimes loving someone means putting their needs and interests first. In that moment you are truly giving them yourself. Always putting others first isn't healthy, because love also means loving yourself. But if one truly loves another, whether lover, child, friend or humanity in general, the ultimate gift of love can be the sacrifice you make for them. Isn't that the idea behind doing a mitzvah? You're preforming a good deed for someone, ideally without bragging or them even knowing. It's about what will make them better, not what it does for you.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I believe loving someone means seeing the good in the beloved, even when they can't see it for themselves. If it's not making the beloved better, it's not love. A friend said it beautifully, "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There was a time I lost all sense of my own potential, but Mandy continued to see it and her vision helped me find mine again.... I’ve done things because those that I love needed me to be something I did not feel I could be. Love made me more than I would have ever been on my own." He continued, "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; ">Love should be empowering, it should rescue us and help us carry on."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; ">Is that possible when we think of "love thy enemy?" How the heck can loving one's enemies help you "find your vision" and "be more?" In <b><i>The Art of Happiness</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> by the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler, the Dalai Lama says, "In order for you to become fully successful in practicing love and compassion, the practice of patience and tolerance is indispensable. There is no fortitude similar to patience, just as there is no affliction worse than hatred....<i>In fact, the enemy is the necessary condition for practicing patience....</i>Our friends do not ordinarily test us and provide the opportunity to cultivate patience; only our enemies do this. So, from this standpoint we can consider our enemy as a great teacher, and revere them for giving us this precious opportunity to practice...." (pp 178-179) In other words, loving thy enemy makes you a better person.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">We've been lead to believe that loving is easy and natural. Everyone can do it. But I no longer believe that. I believe that </span>real</b> love, <b>true</b> love is difficult. It's not about looking inward for what or who makes one feel good. It's about looking out and what will make that person(s) grow stronger and be better because of that love. It's about thinking of others and being willing to sacrifice for them. It's about growing by giving, not taking. The Beatles were correct. Love <b>is</b> all you need. Now give it away. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-63741508130859459642010-12-14T20:18:00.003-05:002010-12-14T21:52:53.062-05:00Hatred: Can't we all just get along?I've been away because the last 18 months have been horrible. People say to write when you're stressed, it's supposed to help. But for me, in those times writing is very difficult. I just didn't have it, but I'll tell you what I did have....Hate. <div><br /></div><div>I've never actually hated anyone before. Not my friends in junior high when everyone formed a club and I wasn't invited. Not my parents, even though I thought "I hate you!" Not even the two men who, at different periods of my life, assaulted me. In those times I was sad, scared, lonely, angry, furious, betrayed. I had many feelings but never that white hot searing hatred that makes you see red and raises your blood pressure to stratospheric heights. </div><div><br /></div><div>I liked hating. It gave me energy and focus. It made me feel, not like a bug caught in a web, but like the spider, sitting, watching, waiting for just the right moment. My hatred fantasies made me smile. Blood, knives, shaming, standing up for myself powerful and strong. Taking action. Doing <b>something </b>to change the situation. For the first time in my life I understood the desire for revenge and the need to hurt those who have hurt you. The carnage in the Middle East and Africa, the death penalty, gang "payback" all made sense. </div><div><br /></div><div>But after a while, a funny thing happened. I started to realize that hatred doesn't only empower, it exhausts. It detracts. It lowers the hater to the lowest level possible. It didn't accomplish anything and it made me feel terrible. It's like bad sex, all build-up but nothing in the end. I still understand it. I can't say I'm free of it. There are times when I find myself going back there, wrapping myself in its protection, feeling it, wanting it. Yet nothing is better when I've hated and in the end, I suspect it's a sham. It's the devil whispering lies. A sweet addiction that leads no where. I hope I can remember that the next time it raises its dirty head. I wish the rest of the world knew it as well. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-36047189008005284802010-04-13T08:32:00.005-04:002010-04-13T21:44:46.224-04:00Taxes for Us<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Needless to say it's tax time so the media and social networking sites are full of comments about taxes. Although I understand the moaning about high tax rates, government programs, etc., I think we're looking at it all wrong. It shouldn't be about how high our taxes are but, rather, what kind of a country do we want to be? </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;">A country needs money to run. Programs and services need money to run. Money comes from taxes. Where do you think the money comes from to fix those roads you've been complaining about, or to extend the sewer system to your township so you don't have to use wells and you have sewers, or to help install that high speed commuter rail system so you can avoid traffic on your way to work? Taxes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;">What kind of a country do we want to be? One with pitted roads, inadequate sewers and polluted rivers? Is that our vision for our environment? What about our people? What do we want for them? Or are we all about what we want for <b><i>ourselves,</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> and once we "have" we don't particularly care about those who don't have? The problem with that attitude is two-fold. </span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">The first is short-term thinking. I would gladly pay $10, or $40 or $100 more in taxes to pay for daycare or a breakfast program that helps a poor child because the long-term benefits outweigh that small amount of money. If that child doesn't eat or get a good start at learning, ultimately we as a society will be paying anyway ... for jail, or for increased medical care because the child won't be healthy, or by receiving less taxes because the child isn't educated enough to earn a decent living and thus pay higher taxes. </span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;">The second problem with the "I-got-mine-too-bad-you-ain't-got-yours" mindset is that ultimately most of us wind up needing government services of some kind. My parents always said "We worked for our money." Yet who collected Social Security when he retired? When my mother was ill, who paid for her medical expenses? Their insurance, with a huge supplement from Medicare. Her meds were covered, to a point; but what they paid out of pocket was substantial. They were not happy and complained about what Medicare didn't cover. So much for never needing government help. Their response was that they had contributed to these systems via taxes, so they were merely collecting what was theirs. I don't disagree with that viewpoint. But isn't an investment in more educated, less hungry, less poor, happier citizens and a cleaner, healthier environment "collecting" back on their taxes? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;">I spent years listening to my mother complain about resenting the amount of taxes she had to pay while "they" didn't pay. I never asked but always wanted to, "What don't you have that you need? What is paying those taxes taking away from you?" Another trip? Another dinner out or a beautiful dress? It's not that she didn't "deserve" these things. But couldn't she do without one dress, one dinner or make a trip a little less luxurious and graciously pay taxes, knowing there is a mother somewhere receiving food stamps who can buy cheese that actually tastes like cheese and has some nutritional value as a result of taxes? Or that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren will not have to be afraid to play outside because of air pollution?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;">We're a country known for our individualism. Taxes go directly against that value. Taxes are about the collective, the group. We may be individualistic as a country; but humans, as a species, are group-bound. For once, let's look beyond ourselves and to the group. How about this year, as you pay your taxes, you not grumble. Rather, think about the little frog you just saved that is critical to the ecosystem that purifies the water that runs by the school that provides a hands-on learning experience for the doctors and teachers and, yes, even the politicians of the future. And as you pay, smile and think, "This one is for <b><i>us!"</i></b></span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-91604975164169666102010-02-19T11:28:00.005-05:002010-12-14T22:05:57.631-05:00I Love Facebook - No Really I Do<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">A plea to support a fundraising ball for a horrific genetic disease, a joyful engagement announcement, cheers for a hockey victory and frustration at a loss, "here is my lunch, yum!" These are some of the postings on my Facebook page. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I joined FB two years ago to see if it was useful as a way to create "communities of practice" for people who have attended classes at my work. At first I was overwhelmed with the postings, invitations, games, groups, announcements about "Mafia Wars" and the request for "eggs." How could this possibility be useful to anyone? My time was being sucked away by reading "Jerry Lewis has become friends with Matt Damon." And I care, why? Gradually, however, my opinion has changed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">At Christmas, my cousin's daughter posted pictures of the kids making cookies. I could almost smell them. My niece announced she was changing schools...moving from Florida. Florida? When did she get there? One day I read, "X </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">i</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">s</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> not so useful today (ok, I helped some people...this morning, but I bumbled a class today.) Within minutes there were three postings telling her she was going to get through it and people really admired her. Instant therapy of the most sincere loving kind. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Sure there are problems with security. (Note to everyone...</span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">nothing</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> on the internet is completely secure.) I don't always want to know what my colleague had to eat or what movie my cousin hates. I don't care that you won a war, found a white kitty, planted a veggie or found an egg. FB can cut down on face-to-face interactions.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> One day three of us, in the same house, were communicating via FB postings. All we had to do was get up and walk 10 feet each and we could have communicated in person. </span></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"></span></span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">But there is something wonderful about introducing your bridemaids to each other via a group and having them share dress ideas; or seeing pictures of your new nephew moments after he's born; or knowing that you're not the only Olympics geek ... people you actually know are also watching curling. (Curling? I know </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">that</span></i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">many people who watch curling?) People I may not see for years (my cousins) now can contact me on a regular basis. And the things I find out about colleagues! </span></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">No it's not a replacement for meeting and talking face-to-face. But Facebook is a fine way to get a conversation going, or continuing a connection after the tear-filled good-byes. It's brought me closer to my family and made me smile and laugh. That's not such a bad thing. Now excuse me please, I have to check my FB page before I sign off this evening. </span></span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-53518531389811064522009-09-06T13:42:00.005-04:002009-09-08T16:34:05.561-04:00Parenting Boys, Mothers and Fathers<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">We all know that men and women think differently. No big news there. Men and women show their love for their children differently, but I guess I thought the way we <i>feel</i> about our children is basically the same. I'm not so sure anymore. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">From the time a woman finds she's pregnant, her whole life changes. It's not just the birth itself, as people tend to assume. "Giving birth is such an amazing experience!" Somehow, that answer seems not quite enough. It's more because e<i>verything</i> becomes about the baby. Can I eat this? Can I do this? Is this safe for my child? We're tired, our bodies do things we've never felt before. We cry or get angry when we used to be even tempered and cheerful. Things that used to taste good make us sick and things we hated we suddenly crave. Something is kicking our gut, something is squirming around in us. We have a hard time walking and sleep becomes a thing of the past. What the hell? Oh yeah, the baby. For nine months it's all about the baby. It's there every single minute of every single day. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">On the other hand, life is...well, life....for dad. He may be excited or anxious. He may be sharing in the mood, food and sleep shifts of mom. But he can walk away. He can still sleep at night without being kicked, he can still eat what he wants. He can boogie the night away and bungee jump the next morning without having to think about anyone else but himself. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">Things even out a bit when the baby is born, but it's still pretty lopsided. Dad may do diapers or childcare but if mom is nursing, she's still in high demand. She has to watch what she eats (so it doesn't affect the milk) and going far away for long is impossible. It's still <i>all</i> about the baby. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">Fast forward a few years. The baby, now a boy, falls and hurts himself. Mom offers kisses, dad offers manly advice, "Suck it up. This won't be the last time you fall. Don't be a sissy. Be a man." Or something similar. Fast forward 18 years when Son has enlisted in the service. Mom is in a panic, dad says, "He's a man, he can make his own decisions." Huh? Where is that gut retching fear that runs from your toes to your head and that sits in a lump in your stomach like gluten free bread? Of course he's a man but does that make him immune to death or dreams of war which forever close off a part of his memory to everyone but his comrades-in-arm? This is our baby. How can you feel that way? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">As I write I admit I'm angry at a father who chooses to play golf while his son moves alone. Son says, "It's ok. He can help when he gets done." But me? In my world his father should forget golf and help his son. What if he falls carrying the mattress down the stairs himself? What if he can't get the dresser around the corner alone? But maybe I'm expecting too much. I'm used to sighing and getting up to get my sons something to drink. I've been trained since I became pregnant with son #1. After 3, it's pretty much automatic. Apparently if you kick me in my sleep and make me throw up, I'll be in your debt forever. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:lucida grande;">I laughed at my grandma when she called Uncle Art her baby. I thought she was saying he was the youngest of her four sons. Today I realize I was wrong. She was literally saying he was her baby. When my sons struggle, there is still a part of me that remembers a two year old bravely dragging a chair across the floor...alone, trying so hard to be a man. No matter what he has accomplished, I still remember the saddest, most haunted eyes I've ever seen, the eyes of my 3 year old. Moms love the kind, gentle, tough, rough, stupid, intelligent men their boys become. But in our hearts, there is still the memory of his little arms reaching for us and our total dedication to his care and safety. And <i>that's</i> the way moms love. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><br /></span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-39258920227979671212009-08-22T14:40:00.003-04:002009-08-22T15:42:21.515-04:00Age Ain't Nothin But A Number<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Two weeks ago my cousin called and told me her father had died. It's not that we weren't expecting it...he had been ill and going downhill for some time. Expectation and reality are often not the same, however. I could hear the grief and shock in her voice. When my mother died, my cousin was there for me, so I had to be there for her. I would go to Texas for the funeral.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">My brother and I talked. What about dad? Al was his next closest brother in age, the one he grew up with. But dad is 91 and, although a world traveler in the past, he has pretty much given up airplanes. We decided I would drive to Buffalo where dad lives and then fly with him to San Antonio. When I arrived in Buffalo, dad was his typical self. He lugged a rather large suitcase up from the basement and was busy laying out clothes. He called the taxi company to arrange for pickup the next morning at 4 am. By the time we went to bed, he had made arrangements for the paper and had methodically gone around the house and disconnected all the electronic devices in case of storms. In the taxi, he told the driver the route to take to the airport and kept a hawk-like eye on the meter to make sure we weren't being overcharged. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">And then we hit the airport. Dad is a small man...dapper and good looking with an amazingly beautiful head of wavy grey hair. His main problem is he has a difficult time walking long distances because of problems with his feet. Not knowing how far we had to walk between gates, I had ordered a wheelchair for him. Apparently wheelchair = invisible. Wheelchair and elderly = invisible and stupid. Although not an actual conversation, our interactions with airline personnel, wait staff, taxi drivers and other random people went something like this. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Looking at me. "Do you want a wheelchair?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Me, looking at them. "I don't know, ask him." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Them, still looking at me. "You ordered a wheelchair. Do you want it?" </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Me (annoyed now), "I don't know. Why don't you ask him? He's the one who's going to use it!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Then, finally looking at him. "SIR!" "DO.....YOU....WANT....A.....WHEELCHAIR?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">When he replied, "No" once again, I was the one consulted. "He said no. Do you want the wheelchair?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">My father is 91 with bad feet. He's not stupid nor invisible. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I realize my father is rather extraordinary. He's learned how to use a computer within the last 6 or so years. He drives and lives alone. He can talk science, politics or wines with the best of them and he should have his own night time talk show, he's so funny. Most people, especially the elderly, aren't up to his speed. However, it's the assumption I saw people making that ticked me off. That assumption is that because he needs assistance getting around, or because he is older, he is incapable of speaking for himself. Seeing people's reactions to him when they finally did "see" him and let him talk was hilarious. Partially it's because he's so funny but also because they realized he <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">could</span> talk for himself. Once that happened, he was no longer invisible and they treated him as the capable person he is.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">My question is, why did he have to face that level of disrespect first, merely because of his age? (We could also ask that same question about anyone who faces the same treatment because of race, religion, sexual orientation, etc.) Why do people assume that once someone reaches a particular age (and what age might that be?) that he or she has become childlike? A loss of hearing or a slow walk or bent back or poor feet don't immediately equate to a loss of intelligence or self-awareness. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">So this is what I ask. The next time you interact with an elderly person, don't assume anything. Speak up if need be, slow down if need be (this is true whenever you're interacting with someone with a hearing loss....or who may not speak your language as a native). Assist them as they move, if need be. But don't equate loss of physical agility with loss of mental capability. What you're seeing at that moment may represent only a small fraction of who that person is and what she or he is capable of doing. If that's not enough to convince you, remember with some luck you'll be there soon enough yourself....how do <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">you</span> want to be treated? </span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-73113765876011306562009-07-01T21:23:00.008-04:002009-08-04T22:41:53.064-04:00Life: Is It All About Loss?<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I've been thinking about losses a lot. It seems I'm surrounded by losses. The loss of a child (three of them within a few months); loss of a job leading to a loss of a sense of identity; the loss of colleagues; the loss of a relationship that you thought would go on forever; loss of memory; the loss of one's ability to be independent. These are all situations faced by people I know personally. On the world stage, the loss of freedom, cultural icons, the ability to return home. The most recent is an announcement made by the president of a professional organization I belong to about the arrest of the husband of a colleague. We may, at some point, find out where he is and how he is.<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Recently I've found myself asking if this is how it was supposed to be. Aren't we, at some point, supposed to be settling into old age, relatively secure, surrounded by grandchildren? How the hell did it get this difficult? And then I wonder, how did we get to the point where we believe it is our right to be happy, to not have to face the cold truth that life is about struggle and loss, as well as winning and love?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Have we, in our cultural blindness...in our absolute certainty that we can control or fix it all...have we deluded ourselves about what life is really like? We've been known to mock cultures that are fatalistic where people believe what happens happens and they have no control over it. It's in God's hands. Yet, when it comes right down to it, isn't that the real truth? If they no longer love you, if the heart stops beating, if there is truly no more money and no more jobs, isn't it in someone else's hands, not our own? What's the difference?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Sometimes lately I've felt that life is just too heavy, too much. I want to curl up in my bed and hide my head and yell, "Get me when it gets better!!!!" The thing is, it doesn't get better. Or does it? I told someone today that I find myself living either in the past or the future, not the present. Thinking about what "was" is depressing. Worrying about what "will be" is crazy-making. What does that leave us? Now? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">This morning I went for a walk with a beloved friend and then we sat and talked for a long time. I had the rest of some killer dirty rice we made for dinner four days ago. My mouth danced when the sausage hit the taste buds. Now I'm going to take a hot shower and go to sleep...two things I love doing. Maybe that's what we need to do amongst all these losses...focus in on what's happening this moment...the one piece of beauty or joy in this moment. Maybe then these losses we all seem to be carrying will become lighter. They won't go away because I think I'm finally learning that life really <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">is </span>hard, brutal and often cold, but lighter is good. "Lighter" I may be able to survive with my humor and sense of hope at least partially intact. I'm trying anyway. I'll let you know how it goes. </span></div><div><br /></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-14486474483808346082009-05-18T13:30:00.005-04:002009-05-18T14:26:07.151-04:00Torn Between Two Worlds, Or Am I?<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I've spent the last month off-line working in two worlds, the face-to-face classroom and learning more about social networking. I continue to be excited about both. To me, there is nothing better than students who are fully engaged in a live discussion/argument/debate/dialogue. When someone gets up and starts to walk around because they just can't contain their energy, I know I've got them.</span><br /><br />Likewise, the abandonment with which people engage in Facebook, Twitter, Ning, MySpace, etc., creates whole new exciting educational possibilities that didn't exist a few years ago. I recently read the fastest growing group of people on Facebook are women over 40. Forget the NetGen, we're all living-on-line.<br /><br />However, I'm seeing something troublesome begin to happen. It appears to be the <strong><em>assumption</em></strong> that some of us are either too old, not techie enough or just not interested in the online or "modern" environment. I've seen it with computer skills but most recently in an assumption that a traditional pipe organist cannot or will not, learn to play non-traditional church music on electronic keyboards. The problem is that the parties involved aren't being asked if they have the interest to learn. An assumption is made, action is taken and that's it.<br /><br />We all have preferred ways of doing things. In the public section it's called WIIFM.."What's in it for me?" Very few of us move out of our comfort zones unless we can see something in it for ourselves. WIIFM could be new friends, a new skill, greater happiness, a more healthy life or a benefit for the community. Whatever it is, it has to have meaning for the people we're asking to change.<br /><br />Most people don't immediately jump into whatever is new. That's for the cutting edge junkies. Something comes into wide-spread use when people begin to see how it can positively impact their lives. I remember telling a friend I thought phones with cameras in them were stupid. Then I found myself on vacation and camera-less but with a phone. You better believe the next phone I got had a camera. My point is this...if you are a person who is leading a technology change, don't assume those who say things like "Twitter is stupid" are not on board and never will be. Give them a chance by helping them see the possibilities.<br /><ol><li>Help them by teaching them or by leading them to the resources so they can teach themselves. The more someone uses something the more comfortable they become. </li><li>Remember the "learner's mind," that is, how confusing something new is to someone who knows nothing about it. </li><li><strong><em>Ask them</em></strong> if they have an interest in learning about non-traditional music played on an electronic instrument or in understanding what an RSS feed is and does. Don't assume and then make decisions based upon your assumptions. </li><li>If after all of that, you decide the person really isn't going to be able to adapt, be kind to them. They deserve more than "you no longer fit our organization." </li></ol><p>What's in it for you? How about living the values that demonstrate great leadership? Those don't change, no matter what world you inhabit. </p>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-21619114643536393602009-04-13T23:05:00.004-04:002009-04-14T08:26:07.265-04:00Living the American Dream"My friends have been laid off and my hours have been cut to 50%." I told Jack, a self-employed doctor. "You're living the American Dream," he replied. "Today that means you have a roof over your head, food on the table, you can pay the rent and you have a job." <div><br /></div><div>This conversation was remarkable to me for many reasons. Jack is a lovely, kind man, but he is not known for accepting the state of the union, or his life, without complaint. Being a self-employed professional, his expectation was that by this time in his life he would be moving into retirement with enough money in the bank to support his family, take vacations and buy the occasional new, hot car. He wasn't expecting to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">have</span> to still be working and he certainly wasn't planning on watching his saving dwindle to kids-in-college levels. And yet there he was, blithely pointing out the obvious to me .... things have changed. He's not anywhere close to being able to retire and I .... well, I at least have something of a job left. </div><div><br /></div><div>The thing is, his words were oddly comforting .... like the fog that lifts in your brain when you finally comprehend a new idea. The next day I heard a report about a party that someone was giving for others who were, like the party-giver, unemployed. "There is no shame in being unemployed anymore," he is reported to have said. No shame perhaps, but one still has to eat and live somewhere. A colleague told me of her friend who has a house and family and no job. His wife just lost her job too and so they worry about how they will be able to pay their mortgage and not lose their house. My friends are greeting their new status with differing attitudes. One is taking it as an opportunity to truly focus on a business she has dabbled at for years. The other two are cobbling together bits and pieces of jobs here and there in order to bring in enough money to pay their share of their health benefits and have food and a home. I see forced smiles and hear nervousness when we ask about their future plans. </div><div><br /></div><div>Surveying all this I realize Jack is correct .... the American Dream has changed. It's no longer about striving to be better and better, to have more and do more. Today it's about hanging on, about being grateful for our friends and food and shelter and what jobs we have. In some way that is very sad. Yet, ultimately it might be a good thing. How much more could we want? How many more closets full of clothes, garages full of cars, offices full of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gadgets</span>, passports full of stamps, do we actually need? In reality, the only things we truly need are food, shelter and the people we love. Jack didn't mention love, but, proud grandfather that he is, I know he was including it. </div><div><br /></div><div>So in these days of hardship, I wish you The American Dream. May you have food, shelter.... enough .... and the love of friends and family. You know, that's not such a bad dream after all.</div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-38789042594184886192009-03-24T21:13:00.003-04:002009-03-24T22:46:33.670-04:00I've Put the Water on to Boil"I don't know. I've kinda lost faith in the Democrats. I expected them to do more," said the woman in the interview. More? President Obama has been in office two months and this woman expected him to have already solved the country's fiscal problems? <div><br /></div><div>I don't know why I'm surprised. Her short-term attitude is typical for U.S.Americans. We want it and we want it now. Next week is too far away let alone next month or next year. Everything is fast, in sound bites. We don't even have time to write emails, let alone put ink to paper. Now we tweet. If it can't be said in 140 characters (who decided on <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">that</span> number?) it isn't worth our time.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yet...one doesn't plant a seed and expect it to grow immediately. You have to sow the seed, tend it, water it, give it food and light. People recognize the years of practice and drive and sheer determination it takes to become a champion athlete. "Overnight" sensations are sensations because they are rare. So we know, deep in our hearts, that the good things, the things that make life worthwhile, take time and yes, effort. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have nothing against Twitter and Facebook and all the myriad of other means we have for connecting with one another. I even have no problem with the concept of speed-dating type events. But I do have a problem with us believing these quick and easy means of meeting one another replace the need for long term, slow development of relationships. I've actually read postings from people saying they've gotten to know people by reading their tweets. I'm sorry but you can't know me in 140 characters, or even 140,000,000 characters. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some things just take time. Solving an economic crisis takes time. Getting enemies to want to change their relationship with us takes time. Knowing someone else takes time. Learning about ourselves takes time....a lifetime as a matter of fact. Sometimes it's boring. Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes it makes us face the worst in ourselves. But sometimes putting in the effort to take it slowly, to savor the experience introduces us to a part of life that makes life worth living. </div><div><br /></div><div>So next time you're tempted to jump on the expressway and rush to your destination, choose another way. Find a backroad and explore it. Look at the sky. See the hawks soaring overhead. Discover the flowers starting to peep up. Maybe you'll find your way to my house. If you do, I'll put on the water to boil....not in the microwave...and fix you a cup of tea. I have a nice deck and I'd love to start to get to know you.</div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-43626016120645826522009-03-02T20:47:00.009-05:002009-03-03T00:28:01.273-05:00"Why Can't They Be More Like We Were...Perfect in Every WayWhat's the matter with kids today?" Musical theatre fans will recognize these questions from Bye Bye Birdie but it seems to be the implicit question I hear many 50-something supervisors asking when they complain about the "work ethic" of younger workers. These complaints tick me off because I'm the mother of three young men, 23 to 30 years old. All three have been promoted into management positions. Two are also in school. The third is working 60 hours a week. No work ethic? Then we have my son's friend who works full-time and also has a part-time job. No work ethic? Or how about the 20-somethings sitting next to me at lunch, writing a contract while they ate. No work ethic? <div><br /></div><div>I don't think these examples are the exceptions that prove the rule. I think my sons and his friend, and the other young adults I see working so many hours and so hard are normal, typical people of their age. So what's going on with the supervisors who are complaining? In a word, culture. I believe the managers who complain about their younger employees don't understand them any more than our parents understood us. And like the worst of our parents, they don't want to find out. Last week I suggested to a supervisor that she get to know her staff better. Her response was to note they like to go to bars and she wasn't about to start to go to bars with them. That's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">all </span>they like? That's all they are about is bars? She'll never know until she understands them and she'll never understand them if doesn't get to know them better.</div><div><br /></div><div>The problem with bias is that we identify behaviors that re-enforce our biases. So this supervisor will probably notice when her employees talk about bars or drinking or partying. Yet she may not notice when they talk about family or volunteer work or the extra work they did at home last night. To make it worse, she won't be aware she's doing it. This is why bias is so difficult to overcome. Unless someone points out that what we're thinking or saying is biased, our way seems normal and right to us. </div><div><br /></div><div>So here is your challenge. If you're one of those people complaining about your younger employees, ask yourself..."What do I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">really know</span> about them? Do I know why they leave work right at 5? Do I know if they're working two jobs, in school or supporting a family? Do I know their values?" As my son said, "I'm very loyal...to people, not organizations." Rather than criticize him, why not have a conversation with him about why he thinks that way? You may learn there are some very valid reasons for his belief. And what if, after making an attempt to understand your younger employees, you learn someone really <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">is</span> just plain lazy? Well, as the 60 hour-a-week working son said, "There are a lot of lazy older people too!" </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-71071052114163664502009-02-10T18:29:00.003-05:002009-02-10T22:16:51.136-05:00Hug Them, Kiss Them, Tell Them You Love Them...NOW!This is not the blog I was going to write. I was going to write about working in multi-generational workplaces but then the call came. It wasn't at 3 a.m., but it might as well have been. My friend's daughter... in her early 30s, a ob/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gyn</span> doctor....model gorgeous...is dead. How can that be? I remember the joy on her amazing face as she grabbed her diploma and they called her "Doctor." The baby girl had grown up into a woman ready to take on the world. And now she's dead. <div><br /></div><div>Many years ago I was teaching a class for women who were going back into the paid workforce. One woman had lost her beloved husband a mere month before entering our workshop. They had been married for ten years, worked together, played together, had a perfect life. Then on Christmas eve, he got up from his chair to walk over to her and dropped dead. He was 39. When I met her she was joyful, upbeat and always laughing. My colleague and I couldn't believe it. W here was her grief? I asked and what she told me was life changing. "Nothing was left undone. When we argued we argued but then we got over it. We told each other we loved each other, we played, we enjoyed each other. When we were together we were together. Would I like more time with him? Of course! But there was nothing undone so I have no regrets. I don't think...if only we had. If only I hadn't..I wish I could..." </div><div><br /></div><div>My kids and friends sometimes think I'm nuts because I tell them I love them all the time. I hug every chance I get. But events like today's convince me how important those hugs and love are. What if this really <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">is </span>the last time you ever see or speak to that person? Is the conversation or interaction you just had the one you want to be the last one ever? Will you live with guilt or regret for the rest of your life because you were angry or said something hurtful...and now it's too late? </div><div><br /></div><div>We never think, "Today's the last day." We always think we have tomorrow or next week or next year. We think we'll punish <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">them</span> just a bit longer. "They'll be sorry. They'll come crawling back." Or we'll get another chance to make it up to them. But sometimes we don't. The car crashes, the heart stops, the unthinkable happens. And for the rest of our lives we think..."if only..." </div><div><br /></div><div>Don't let that happen to you. Find the people you love, you admire, even those you just like a lot...and let them know. Hug them, kiss them, tell them how much they mean to you, how much you love them. Do it and do it now. You never know what you'll learn from the next phone call. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-60581528769481875632009-02-01T01:49:00.002-05:002009-02-01T02:49:38.748-05:00What the Heck Is "Post Racial?"I happened upon one of those TV shows where they build a house from the ground up. They introduced the architects, designers, plumbers and construction boss. Everyone was White. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sigh</span>. I notice things like that. I go to movies and look for diversity. I've been known to not watch popular TV shows because everyone is White, straight or without disabilities (Friends, anyone?). Look for yourself. Turn on TV and examine network series. See how far we haven't come. And when the cast <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">is</span></span> diverse, usually the non-White characters are in supporting roles. <div><br /></div><div>Since Barak Obama was elected President, I've heard we're living in a "post racial" society. I think that's supposed to mean race is no longer something we need to pay attention to. It means that not only are we the most diverse country in the world but we're the most <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">fairly</span> diverse country. Now that we have a Black President anyone of any race can be whatever they want, so they say. Really? No, I mean, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">really?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>If that's the case, why can't a person of color talk about how race affected something without being accused of "playing the race card?" Why is there exactly one Black senator in the U.S. Congress? How many CEOs of Fortune 500 companies are Black? (Hint, it's less than the number of your fingers.) Presidents of universities that aren't Historically Black? Shall I continue?</div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps it's true the younger generation looks at race without the biases of their parents. But culture, beliefs and practices are passed down from parents to children. Very often, so are racial biases. So although I'm willing to listen to "our kids are different" I'm not buying it completely. However let's assume for a moment it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">is </span>true. If we <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">are</span></span> over race, one would think we would be able to talk about racial issues like we do, oh say cancer or money or sexual dysfunction...things that used to make us uncomfortable but no longer do because we are "over" them. But most commonly, Blacks and Whites can't talk about race. Most Whites deny racial profiling exists even though there is ample evidence to show it happens. (One honest former cop I know said simply, "Of course we profiled!") Most Whites blame the lack of top-level Blacks to individual factors. Most Whites refuse to acknowledge that in study after study, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">when all else is equal: </span>Blacks are granted fewer mortgages, are offered fewer interviews if their names sound Black, are falsely told apartments are unavailable when they are available, are given longer sentences for crimes than are White criminals. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even if we are individually less racially biased, our institutions sustain a system that favors Whites over Blacks. If we want to be post racial we will change our institutions so everyone will have equal opportunities for success and the structural racism in our systems that supports discrimination, profiling and other racially based impediments is eliminated. As a country we have made tremendous progress, there is no doubt about that. But the success of a few people, be it Oprah, Obama or Jordan is just that...the success of a few. When we have so many CEOs, presidents and millionaires of color that we can't remember their names, then you'll have a good argument for the U.S. being post racial. Until then I'll be the one, sitting in the corner of the movie theatre, counting. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-56601237279625495452009-01-19T00:12:00.003-05:002009-01-19T00:38:24.382-05:00Speechless<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">A fable:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Imagine there are terrorists who want to kill you and take over your state. 300 of them walk into a mega-mall where there are thousands of holiday shoppers. From various locations they randomly shoot rockets into the surrounding area. The police, surrounding the mall, engage in what they call "targeted bombing" by determining where they believe the terrorists are headquartered and then dropping bombs on those locations. They kill terrorists but they also kill shoppers. By the fourth day food and supplies are scarce and the shoppers are desperate. The few medical personnel among them are tending those who have been injured by the police bombs using the limited supplies originally designed for first aid. The targeted bombing has killed 15 terrorists, but it's also killed over one hundred shoppers and injured scores more. The terrorists have killed three in the community.</span><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Outside, trucks with medical supplies, food and medical volunteers have arrived. The volunteers are willing to risk entering the mall to help the hundreds of injured and dying shoppers. Then the word comes from the police..."The mall is sealed. Nothing and no one goes in or comes out." The media receives cell phone calls from shoppers begging for food and medical help. But the police refuse to change their minds and ban further cell phone contact.<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Reality:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">Think this couldn't happen? Well it was happening in Gaza. As of this posting a ceasefire</span></span></div><div>has been declared but no one believes there will be lasting peace since both Hamas and the Israelis refuse to accept each other's legitimacy. I've never lived in fear that I couldn't walk down the street without being bombed so I don't know how the Israeli or Palestinian people feel. But bombing and killing innocent people when you have overwhelming power has got to be wrong.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div>Israel claims it only seeks to secure its safety but anyone who looks at a map of Palestine in 1947 when Israel was founded and compares it to now can see the shocking shrinking of Palestine. Not only has Palestine shrunk, but huge areas of it have Israeli settlements in them. The disingenuousness of Israel is obvious. Why do you take over territory if you only want to protect yourself? A trapped person fights back. What do the Israelis expect?<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div>I always say I was raised Catholic in a Jewish neighborhood. I have family and close friends who are Jewish. The Judaism I know is a religion of compassion and acceptance. It's a religion of fighting for the rights of others. The Civil Rights movement and Jews are inextricably linked in my mind. I wonder, how can Jews do this? My heart breaks as I watch and wonder how such a good and noble people could sink to this horror. I look for explanations but only see the same political tripe. Gandhi was said to have remarked, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth and we'll all be blind and toothless." And if Israel is any indication, heartless.<br /></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-62031876194063877502009-01-04T23:02:00.005-05:002009-01-04T23:32:37.787-05:00Don't Tell Me I'm Too Old!I love my girlfriends. I love the fun I have with them and I love how much they love me. But what I don't love are those stupid cartoons they send me, the ones of the old lady pointing out that we're old, our breasts sag, our stockings bag and our eyes can't see. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Excuse me?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;">What's wrong with women that we feel the need to point out our individual flaws not only to our significant others, but to the world at large? "Oh look, I'm 50, see how my ass has suddenly fallen?" Is it an excuse not to pay attention to the way we look, to health, to our well-being? I've heard women say, "I'm (50, 60, 70), I'm so happy I don't have to worry about those things anymore." Wrong-O. You do. Not for others, but for yourself. Chances are you'll live into your 80s or 90s. Don't you want to be healthy and vigorous as long as possible? Don't you want your mind to be alive and to face life with eager curiosity? Or do you <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">want </span>to only be able to sit in a chair someplace and just stare?</span></div><div><br /></div><div>It's all about mindset and I think many of us need to change ours. People at work tell me they have employees (usually women) who say they can't learn some new system. "They're close to retirement and just don't seem invested." So retire and clear the way for those who are invested. Can't? Then you better change that mindset and learn because, in these troubled economic times, don't expect anyone to be invested in you even after years of service. Act active, be active and you're a valuable resource. Whine you're too old to learn and you're dead wood. </div><div><br /></div><div>Too old? Tell that to my father. He's into his 91st year and within the past ten years he's learned how to use a cell phone and computer. He emails, checks his stocks online and has sent me pictures that he's "bundled." He uses "google" as a verb and scolded me that I "really should" download GoogleEarth. (I did!) Last month, after seeing the Chuck Berry film he said, "I think I'm starting to like rock 'n roll!" Oh, and this lifelong Republican acknowledges Hillary Clinton as smart and said Barack Obama seems to be making appointments based on skill and not party. These actions and comments indicate a man who is still learning, thinking and growing. And, he's always dressed to the nines. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's all about mindset. For 2009 I'd like to invite all women "of a certain age" to adopt Obama's theme: Yes we can! Yes we can look fantastic. Yes we can be healthy and fit. Yes we can learn new technologies and processes. Yes we can look in the mirror and exclaim, "Damn woman, you sure are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">fine</span>!" Old? That's so 2008. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-40994859734646355842008-12-28T22:16:00.006-05:002008-12-30T00:07:33.486-05:00Happy New Year...Now Change YourselfThe new year is often a time for assessment and re commitment. We look over the previous year and decide how to improve ourselves. Then we make a commitment to change...lose weight, look for a new job, spend more time with the family. <div><br /></div><div>Self-assessment is great but honestly, how many of us actually implement those changes? It's difficult. I've heard it takes over 20 tries to change a habit. Some say even more...up to 40. If you've decided to drink water and not pop, it will take you at least 20 instances of reaching for pop and telling yourself, "No, I really want water" to automatically reach for it. If there is an addiction (caffeine, tobacco, food, etc.) it takes longer. Note, the change of habit from pop to water involves replacing one item with another. That's complicated enough. But what happens if we decide to change a psychological "habit?" We may say we need to spend more time with family and less time at work but why aren't we doing that already? Perhaps long hours at work are expected and we're afraid to violate the norm. Perhaps we feel more appreciated or competent at work than at home. How do we change these behaviors, especially if it involves facing an ugly truth...we would rather be at work than at home or we are afraid, or we're not who we say we are?</div><div><br /></div><div>Another aspect of change involves the people who surround us. I once worked with a man whose daughter, in a fit of pique, told him he was unbelievably sexist. He was shocked and asked his wife, another daughter and secretary if it was true. They all said it was. He decided to transform himself. Most of the females in his life were delighted but some were not. Many of his male colleagues were angry. Some ostracized him while others actually tried to sabotage his career. It was a very difficult time for him but he knew he was doing the right thing so he continued. </div><div><br /></div><div>To be successful we must prepare for what we're likely to face. You forgot to call home today, do it tomorrow. Then try another 20 times. That cookie? What's on hand to replace it? (It has to be something you like!) Trying to be less sexist, racist, classist or just a better person? Expect people to be critical, to ask what you're trying to do, to make fun of you, to not understand. When that happens, find people who appreciate you. But whatever happens, don't let it stop you. A small step is better than no step. If everyone in the world improved just a little, the change would be massive. You can start the process.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, and that sexist man? He eventually won an award from a national woman's magazine for creating an exceptional workplace for women. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-14349678075143550542008-12-16T22:00:00.003-05:002008-12-22T10:40:33.581-05:00Keep your marriage away from mine.Several weeks ago Sue emailed that Denise, her partner of well over 20 years, had died. The final sentence in the email was, "At least we were able to get married." That sentence haunts me. Something I take for granted was a precious gift to them. I've been married for over 30 years and in that period of time I've been friends with I don't know how many gay and lesbian people. I've been married...and them? In most places they are like Scarlett O'Hara...dependent upon the kindness of strangers. <div><br /></div><div>The fragility of my friends' situations struck me about four years ago when Cathy needed major surgery. June asked me to accompany her to the hospital to wait with her. The check-in nurse wanted to know June's relationship to Cathy. In other words, if something happens can I legally tell <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">you</span>? Fortunately Cathy was at a "gay friendly" hospital in a city with a Human Rights ordinance which forbids discrimination based upon sexual orientation and June was treated as Cathy's next-of-kin. However, in another city, another hospital, Cathy and June's experiences could have been completely different. Cathy could have been denied the one person she wanted to see, the one person who could offer the love and comfort she needed to recover. Fortunately it didn't happen to them, but it has happened to others all over the country. </div><div><br /></div><div>The United States prides itself on being a country of equality and fairness, yet many of us feel treating gay men and lesbians unequally and unfairly is ok. An increasing number of other countries don't agree. According to About.com, as of November 2008 gay/lesbian marriages are legal in Canada, Netherlands, Belgium, Norway, South Africa and Spain. Both Spain and Belgium have majority Catholic populations (75% and 47% respectively). These six countries are democracies with some of the highest standards of living in the world. The fundamental character of these countries hasn't changed since they've legalized gay/lesbian marriages.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several years ago my good friend Miller came out to me. At the end of the conversation he laughed a deep, satisfied laugh and I realized that I hadn't heard that sound in years. The strain of hiding who he was, even from good friends, was so great that he could never completely relax. Miller is a hard working, kind, generous, funny and very Catholic man. What he wanted then was for his heterosexual friends love him as he is... as God made him.. gay. What he wants now is to love someone just as heterosexuals do... pledging his faithfulness and love in front of friends and family in a marriage ceremony so he never has to worry about being legally kept from his beloved. How can that be wrong? "At least we were able to get married." </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-42707733015923434762008-12-10T21:50:00.002-05:002008-12-10T23:32:26.545-05:00Joe the Plumber vs. the auto workers, part IIThe last post questioned why we seem to be picking on the autoworkers these days. The question is even more relevant today as it looks like the auto industry bailout is in trouble. The AP reports the opponents of the bailout are demanding "major labor givebacks and debt restructuring at the companies, and (are) encourag(ing) them to declare bankruptcy."<div><br /></div><div>A few weeks ago I heard a Congressman complaining about $75 hour autoworkers who should stop being selfish and who should "make concessions." Today those concessions have been kicked up a notch to "major givebacks" and bankruptcy. The problem is, I don't know where the $75 hour autoworkers are. If they ever existed, they are no more. The overtime that contributed to large salaries is gone. Medical benefits are being cut. Employees are expected to contribute more to maintain quality benefits. Workers are being laid off. Retirement funds are in jeopardy. In other words, the unions have been making concession so frequently I'm surprised there is anything left to consider. But now they are, once again, being asked to give.</div><div><br /></div><div>Are these workers greedy because they don't want to give anymore? I suppose they <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">are</span> greedy...for a living wage, health insurance they can afford, a retirement package that actually allows them to retire. A few years ago I got into an argument with a colleague over the news that one auto parts supplier was giving its employees a choice -- a massive pay cut or the closing of the plant. The employees finally agreed to the paycut, a cut which took them to a salary of between $10 and $20 per hour. Tell me, how do you support your family on $25,000 a year, especially when a few months ago you were making twice that? My colleague argued they were lucky to still have a job. Why? Why were they lucky to work as hard or harder than before (since there were fewer workers) for less pay and fewer benefits? The work wasn't any easier. With fewer workers the stress level was higher. And yet these workers were accused of being greedy and selfish for fighting the cuts. Today some people have gone so far as to suggest the auto industry is largely responsible for the collapse of the economy. By the "auto industry" they mean the autoworkers. </div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand we have "Joe the Plumber." Why is this blue-collar man a "true American hero" but my UAW neighbor is not? Joe certainly may represent the "average American" but so does my friend's father who spent his lifetime coming to work everyday, working hard for the auto industry -- working hard to support his family. What is the difference? We say we want our tax dollars to help "Main Street, not Wall Street" but when it comes to actually sending money to hard working taxpayers right here in middle America, we act as if wanting a decent salary and good medical benefits is a sin...unless you're a self-employed plumber, of course.</div><div><br /></div><div>I truly don't understand. Is it that as a society we are so individualistic that we feel that a person who has a union to fight for him or her is somehow "less" of an American than someone who doesn't? Joe the Plumber vs. Joe the Autoworker is Joe the individual vs. Joe a group member. Is that what it is? My friend suspects it's a class issue. Certainly the difference in oversight standards between the banking bailout and the proposed auto industry bailout could be. But plumbers vs. autoworkers a class issue? It doesn't make sense. Is there an explanation? If you know, let me know. As Rachel Maddow would say, "talk me down." I need help. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-2958592298227593212008-12-10T00:15:00.003-05:002008-12-10T00:33:35.695-05:00Joe the Plumber vs. the auto workers, part IIn October the U.S. government approved up to $700 billion for a bailout of the banking industry. Treasury secretary Paulson said the government "regretted...having to take these actions" but it was necessary to restore confidence in the financial system. (MSNBC online) The bailout money was given with virtually no oversight required.<div><br /></div><div>Today the NY Times online reported " the White House and Democratic Congressional leaders said...they were close to agreeing on the terms of a $15 billion government rescue of the American automobile industry that would be directed by one or more appointees of President Bush and would impose expansive federal oversight of the auto companies."</div><div><br /></div><div>Wait...the banks get $700 billion with no oversight but the auto industry has to show a viable restructuring plan and will have an auto "czar" overseeing it? Oh, and let's not forget the concessions the unions are being asked to make.</div><div><br /></div><div>I understand that once burned, twice shy. As a taxpayer I like the idea that someone noticed that maybe it isn't such a great idea to give away massive amounts of money with no strings attached. But I'm becoming increasingly disturbed by what I see as the different standards for white-collar vs. blue-collar industries. The auto industry is asking for $15 billion to save over a quarter of a million mostly blue-collar jobs. The banking industry is in line to get $700 billion. Any jobs saved will be white-collar.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't get me wrong. I think there is plenty to be upset about with the U.S. auto industry. It often seems one beat behind. Large gas burners when gas prices are soaring. "Greener" vehicles years after Toyota. You know the list. But the thing is...the auto <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">workers </span>are not responsible for those decisions, the auto execs are. And to be perfectly fair, I may believe the vehicles the U.S. automakers produce are hopelessly out-of-touch, but there are millions of people who happily and loyally drive their U.S. made cars. (My parents never bought a car that wasn't U.S. made and they loved almost every single one of them.)</div><div><br /></div><div>What does this have to do with Joe the Plumber? I'll get to that tomorrow. </div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-752062640295721739.post-66716174808508585682008-12-08T22:50:00.001-05:002008-12-10T13:50:41.038-05:00Welcome and Coming Soon<span style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Welcome to my blog! </span> </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">In my daily life I am a trainer and internal consultant for a large public university. My passion, however, is helping people from differing backgrounds to talk and perhaps get to know each other a bit better. I specialize in domestic U.S. cultural issues, unlike my colleagues throughout the world who work internationally. Collectively we call ourselves interculturalists...people who work between cultures trying to bring them closer together. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Check back periodically for my thoughts, rants, book recommendations and maybe even some ideas that may help us all "just get along." </span></div>deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03185755887755442949noreply@blogger.com0