Much has been made in recent weeks of what our illustrious freshman governor is doing to the proud Progressive tradition of Wisconsin. I have heard more than once that "Fighting Bob" ought to be rolling in his grave. But the Progressive tradition in Wisconsin was never quite as strong as lots of people would like to think it was, and I believe that part of that is because of another political tradition to come out of Wisconsin.
I'm taking about the Sewer Socialists. And I'd like to talk about sewer socialism because it has relevance to not just the policies that are being enacted, but also to the manner in which this whole mess is exploding across our great state.
The Sewer Socialists were a group out of Milwaukee, and their strongest support was always from Milwaukee and the southeastern part of the state generally. The basic idea behind their rhetoric was not the revolutionary or class-warfare aspects of socialism, but rather the idea that government could do good. Government can, and should, build sewers, provide clean water, pick up garbage, provide security and clean living conditions for its citizens. And they meant cleanliness literally: clean streets, clean water, clean schools.
The Sewer Socialists were far-left in that they sought to use tax revenues to create a better environment for all citizens. They had a basic, committed belief to the idea that government CAN and SHOULD do good. Government CAN efficiently operate those systems that make life better, and government SHOULD do this for the betterment of all. Goverrnment CAN build sewers. Government CAN provide clean water. Government CAN provide heat and power (*ahem, ahem*). Government CAN provide education. Government CAN provide security through police and fire. And government SHOULD do all these things, and should raise the necessary revenues to do so.
Additionally, government has a responsibility to make life as pleasant as possible for all its citizens. Everyone should have access to greenspaces, not just those that can afford an acreage. Hence, we have here in Milwaukee one of the best park systems in the country, and that's true of the Wiscconsin State Park system as well. Everyone deserves QUALITY education: we don't subscribe to the idea of a well-rounded education for the rich and letting everyone else barely learn to read while sharing a book that's 10 years old.
These are the basic policy issues and budget struggles we are currently facing. Does everyone deserve to have a good life, or do just the rich deserve such a luxury?
But the Sewer Socialists also arose as a reaction to basic corruption within the party system, and in particular to corruption within the Democratic Party. The Sewer Socialists in Milwaukee were at least as much a reaction to the base corruption of Chicago politics as they were to any ideological commitments. People saw what was going on Chicago and did not want it. It is primarily for this reason that the Sewer Socialists refused to work with Democrats, while Progressives occasionally did work with the party that spawned them. It was not because the policies of the Sewer Socialists and the Democrats were incompatible; nay, they were highly compatible. Rather it was because the Sewer Socialists did not want even the intimation, the barest hint of corruption, to touch them, because they understood that public trust, once lost, is devilishly difficult to regain.
The Sewer Socialists were proponents of the kind of open, clean government that we now take for granted in Wisconsin. They are at least partly responsible for the incredible open meetings laws we have here, which were violated in the passing of recent bills. The open, transparent tradition of the Sewer Socialists is directly related to the open tradition of our Capitol Building, which has lately been locked down tightly.
What is happening right now is not just a violation of the forward-looking traditions of our policies in creating roads and schools and infrastructure and parks that everyone can enjoy and that make everyone's lives better regardless of their income. It is also a violation of that openness, that conscious decision that our cities and our state would not be Chicago or Illinois. We would not operate in back-room deals, in cigar-clenching bossmen, in money under the table. We would operate in the light.
In the end, I think that the betrayal of that tradition of openness and cleanliness is the worse of the evils being committed here. And I find it almost unendurably ironic that while accusing Union bosses of holding too much power and invoking the back-room deals of Chicago poltics, Mr. Walker is engaging in exactly the same tactics he espouses to loathe, and with much greater virulence and damage.
If you want to know what the onset of corruption looks like, don't look south across a border. Look west, into the heart of our very own state. These are sad days for Wisconsin.
.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
This Is What A Union Does
Last Saturday, I went to Madison. I have been in Madison every Saturday since February 21, as well as several weekdays when my schedule allows, and I will continue to be there as often as possible as long as it's necessary.
So far, the highest level of energy in these protests has been against Governor Walker's attempt to end collective bargaining rights for public employees. He is engaged in government-sponsored, legislatively-codified union-busting, which is a horrific prospect. Any government or elected official that actively seeks to strip the rights of a group of people is not fit to use office, as they have demonstrated a propensity for egregious abuse of power.
However, that's not the point of this. The point of this is this sign that I photographed while I was in Madison last Saturday. This man managed to encapsulate a point that I think needs to be made forcefully and with gusto. A variation of it is the idea (that I cannot remember where I first read) that conservatives have managed to make the question that everyone asks, "Why does that guy get what I don't?" And the job of progressives is to make people start to ask, instead, "How do I get what that guy has?"
I have seen it typed and heard it said by many, many people recently that teachers have ridiculously generous benefit packages. The implication is that teachers don't deserve them, and there's always some add-on to the effect that the speaker doesn't get a pension and has been paying for all their healthcare for years. It is true that teachers, like firefighters, policemen, unionized electricians and unionized auto workers and a whole host of other professions do have (comparatively) better benefit packages than non-unionized electricians, autoworkers, teachers, retail clerks and administrative professionals.
This is not because all of these unionized professions are overpaid, or because they are leeches on society, or because they don't deserve healthcare and pensions. The fact is EVERYONE deserves these things. We all deserve to get decent healthcare coverage that doesn't cost us everything out of pocket. We all deserve some guarantees of financial security in our old age. Why do teachers, police, firefighters, unionized electricians, et al. still have them, when 60 years ago everyone did?
And make no mistake, 60 years ago, these benefits were common. They were expected. They were part and parcel of having a job.
Teachers and electricians and auto workers still have this things because they have a UNION. Because when management or some fatcat said, "You have to accept this or we're all going bankrupt" they had an organization and a mechanism to say, "We'll do what's necessary, but we're not going to simply take your word for what's necessary. We want to see the books; we want to be sure that you're not screwing us merely to advance your own position."
Honestly, ask yourself: do you trust a corporation to have only your interests in mind? Do you trust a corporation or a government to ask for only what is absolutely necessary and never pad their bottom line or try to keep a little on the side for personal gain or pet projects? Really? You trust your boss to sacrifice as much as you when times are tough? If so, you are a far, far better and more trusting person than me. I certainly don't afford anyone that level of trust over my financial standing and future.
This is what a union DOES. It gives you that power, the power to know for certain that what you're giving up is necessary and that you're only giving up what is necessary and that you're not the only one giving something up.
That is the power each of us could have, if we all organized. And if we were all organized, the benefit packages that teachers and police and all the rest enjoy wouldn't seem exorbitant, because we all would have them. We would not have been forced to give them up over the course of the last 50 years, because someone at the table would have been looking out for our interests.
You would still have a pension. You would not be paying for every penny of your healthcare, simply because someone told you it was "necessary."
The question should never be "How can I take away what that person has?" It should always be, "How can I get what that person has, too?" There is enough to go around. We can all have what is fair. We can all have what we deserve.
.
So far, the highest level of energy in these protests has been against Governor Walker's attempt to end collective bargaining rights for public employees. He is engaged in government-sponsored, legislatively-codified union-busting, which is a horrific prospect. Any government or elected official that actively seeks to strip the rights of a group of people is not fit to use office, as they have demonstrated a propensity for egregious abuse of power.
However, that's not the point of this. The point of this is this sign that I photographed while I was in Madison last Saturday. This man managed to encapsulate a point that I think needs to be made forcefully and with gusto. A variation of it is the idea (that I cannot remember where I first read) that conservatives have managed to make the question that everyone asks, "Why does that guy get what I don't?" And the job of progressives is to make people start to ask, instead, "How do I get what that guy has?"
I have seen it typed and heard it said by many, many people recently that teachers have ridiculously generous benefit packages. The implication is that teachers don't deserve them, and there's always some add-on to the effect that the speaker doesn't get a pension and has been paying for all their healthcare for years. It is true that teachers, like firefighters, policemen, unionized electricians and unionized auto workers and a whole host of other professions do have (comparatively) better benefit packages than non-unionized electricians, autoworkers, teachers, retail clerks and administrative professionals.
This is not because all of these unionized professions are overpaid, or because they are leeches on society, or because they don't deserve healthcare and pensions. The fact is EVERYONE deserves these things. We all deserve to get decent healthcare coverage that doesn't cost us everything out of pocket. We all deserve some guarantees of financial security in our old age. Why do teachers, police, firefighters, unionized electricians, et al. still have them, when 60 years ago everyone did?
And make no mistake, 60 years ago, these benefits were common. They were expected. They were part and parcel of having a job.
Teachers and electricians and auto workers still have this things because they have a UNION. Because when management or some fatcat said, "You have to accept this or we're all going bankrupt" they had an organization and a mechanism to say, "We'll do what's necessary, but we're not going to simply take your word for what's necessary. We want to see the books; we want to be sure that you're not screwing us merely to advance your own position."
Honestly, ask yourself: do you trust a corporation to have only your interests in mind? Do you trust a corporation or a government to ask for only what is absolutely necessary and never pad their bottom line or try to keep a little on the side for personal gain or pet projects? Really? You trust your boss to sacrifice as much as you when times are tough? If so, you are a far, far better and more trusting person than me. I certainly don't afford anyone that level of trust over my financial standing and future.
This is what a union DOES. It gives you that power, the power to know for certain that what you're giving up is necessary and that you're only giving up what is necessary and that you're not the only one giving something up.
That is the power each of us could have, if we all organized. And if we were all organized, the benefit packages that teachers and police and all the rest enjoy wouldn't seem exorbitant, because we all would have them. We would not have been forced to give them up over the course of the last 50 years, because someone at the table would have been looking out for our interests.
You would still have a pension. You would not be paying for every penny of your healthcare, simply because someone told you it was "necessary."
The question should never be "How can I take away what that person has?" It should always be, "How can I get what that person has, too?" There is enough to go around. We can all have what is fair. We can all have what we deserve.
.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Union-Busting: The Reality of the Budget Repair Bill
I think there are a few very large misconceptions about the protests underway in Wisconsin against Governor Walker's "Budget Repair Bill."
Leaving aside that Wisconsin's budget was in pretty good shape when Walker took office, before he started throwing money at programs that already had plenty of money and creating expensive tax breaks that will, at best, be ineffectual in creating any new jobs, the media reporting on the protests is largely focusing on Walker's statements that all he's doing is asking state and municipal employees to contribute toward their pensions and health benefits.
This is not true, and is not the source of the immense anger motivating thousands of people to descend upon Madison.
While Walker is asking for public employees to contribute to their benefits (which, by the by, the majority of public employees ALREADY DO do some degree or another), he is also proposing to END COLLECTIVE BARGAINING by public employee unions over ANYTHING except wages directly.
What this means is not only that public employees would no longer have a voice in their benefits, but also that they would have no say over their working conditions.
Teachers would no longer be able to bargain for reasonable class sizes in their contracts. You think a classroom with 31 first-graders in it is a travesty? Wait until you see what a classroom of 50 first-graders, one teacher and no aides looks like. Teachers would no longer be able to put provisions for preparation time into their contracts.
Nurses at public health facilities would lose the right to bargain over staffing and overtime. You think VA hospitals and nursing homes are understaffed now? Wait until you see what it looks like when contract provisions about how many patients each nurse can handle are a thing of the past.
Just as a bit of labor history: do you enjoy things like the 8 hour work day? How about the concept of the weekend? How about a REGULAR PAYDAY, instead of being paid whenever your employer feels like it? How about child labor laws? These things we take for granted now are all the direct result of labor organization and collective bargaining over things that are not directly related to the hourly wage workers are paid.
The labor movement in the United States has suffered a long slow slide into oblivion, and that is a tragedy. People want to point to public employees as the source of budget problems at every level of government, and to their unions. But perhaps what should be taken away from the success of public employee unions is not that civil servants are leeches on society, but rather that UNIONS WORK. Public employees are unionized at rate that is roughly five times that of private sector employees (36.2% versus 6.9%), according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. This means the public-employee unions represent more workers and subsequently have more power at the bargaining table.
If you're angry about cuts to your benefits as a private sector worker, why are you trying to drag others down into the morass that is sliding into poverty with you? Don't blame public employees. Unionize yourselves. If you had, perhaps you'd still be enjoying the benefits that all workers took for granted 50 years ago, which (coincidentally) was the height of labor power in the United States. Public employees will stand in solidarity with you. They understand the power and the good of labor organization, and they will fully support you in your efforts to organize yourselves.
But do not let vitriolic rhetoric from people who don't care about any working or middle class people divide us. Solidarity was the battle cry of the labor movement for a reason: because all working people must stand together to effect change. As Mr. Feingold has said, ""Surely, there is enormous reason for people in the private sector to be frustrated -- and particularly working people who have had their jobs shipped overseas. . . . But the idea here on the right and the corporate side is to divide working people against each other, to turn private employees against public employees out of some kind of resentment."
Public employees are not the enemy. They are, and have been, perfectly willing to make concessions to the economic realities of today. Most public employees have not had a significant pay increase in 10 years. Most public employees ALREADY contribute to their healthcare costs. They do not want to "live large" while their neighbors suffer.
But taking away collective bargaining rights is not about any budget. It is simply, solely and purely about union-busting. It is is simply, solely and purely about taking away the right of workers to have a say in their workplace, in how it's run and the conditions they work under.
These protests are not about being unwillilng to contribute to the public good. These protests are an expression of the rage people feel at being told that they will be legally prohibited, forevermore, from having that say.
So stop quoting Walker's soundbites to me about "modest" payments towards benefits and start focusing on the real issue here: Union busting. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. This is a big fucking deal, but no one seems to be paying attention to the one thing that is the biggest fucking deal, except the unionized workers that understand what the power of a union and a collective bargain is.
.
Leaving aside that Wisconsin's budget was in pretty good shape when Walker took office, before he started throwing money at programs that already had plenty of money and creating expensive tax breaks that will, at best, be ineffectual in creating any new jobs, the media reporting on the protests is largely focusing on Walker's statements that all he's doing is asking state and municipal employees to contribute toward their pensions and health benefits.
This is not true, and is not the source of the immense anger motivating thousands of people to descend upon Madison.
While Walker is asking for public employees to contribute to their benefits (which, by the by, the majority of public employees ALREADY DO do some degree or another), he is also proposing to END COLLECTIVE BARGAINING by public employee unions over ANYTHING except wages directly.
What this means is not only that public employees would no longer have a voice in their benefits, but also that they would have no say over their working conditions.
Teachers would no longer be able to bargain for reasonable class sizes in their contracts. You think a classroom with 31 first-graders in it is a travesty? Wait until you see what a classroom of 50 first-graders, one teacher and no aides looks like. Teachers would no longer be able to put provisions for preparation time into their contracts.
Nurses at public health facilities would lose the right to bargain over staffing and overtime. You think VA hospitals and nursing homes are understaffed now? Wait until you see what it looks like when contract provisions about how many patients each nurse can handle are a thing of the past.
Just as a bit of labor history: do you enjoy things like the 8 hour work day? How about the concept of the weekend? How about a REGULAR PAYDAY, instead of being paid whenever your employer feels like it? How about child labor laws? These things we take for granted now are all the direct result of labor organization and collective bargaining over things that are not directly related to the hourly wage workers are paid.
The labor movement in the United States has suffered a long slow slide into oblivion, and that is a tragedy. People want to point to public employees as the source of budget problems at every level of government, and to their unions. But perhaps what should be taken away from the success of public employee unions is not that civil servants are leeches on society, but rather that UNIONS WORK. Public employees are unionized at rate that is roughly five times that of private sector employees (36.2% versus 6.9%), according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. This means the public-employee unions represent more workers and subsequently have more power at the bargaining table.
If you're angry about cuts to your benefits as a private sector worker, why are you trying to drag others down into the morass that is sliding into poverty with you? Don't blame public employees. Unionize yourselves. If you had, perhaps you'd still be enjoying the benefits that all workers took for granted 50 years ago, which (coincidentally) was the height of labor power in the United States. Public employees will stand in solidarity with you. They understand the power and the good of labor organization, and they will fully support you in your efforts to organize yourselves.
But do not let vitriolic rhetoric from people who don't care about any working or middle class people divide us. Solidarity was the battle cry of the labor movement for a reason: because all working people must stand together to effect change. As Mr. Feingold has said, ""Surely, there is enormous reason for people in the private sector to be frustrated -- and particularly working people who have had their jobs shipped overseas. . . . But the idea here on the right and the corporate side is to divide working people against each other, to turn private employees against public employees out of some kind of resentment."
Public employees are not the enemy. They are, and have been, perfectly willing to make concessions to the economic realities of today. Most public employees have not had a significant pay increase in 10 years. Most public employees ALREADY contribute to their healthcare costs. They do not want to "live large" while their neighbors suffer.
But taking away collective bargaining rights is not about any budget. It is simply, solely and purely about union-busting. It is is simply, solely and purely about taking away the right of workers to have a say in their workplace, in how it's run and the conditions they work under.
These protests are not about being unwillilng to contribute to the public good. These protests are an expression of the rage people feel at being told that they will be legally prohibited, forevermore, from having that say.
So stop quoting Walker's soundbites to me about "modest" payments towards benefits and start focusing on the real issue here: Union busting. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. This is a big fucking deal, but no one seems to be paying attention to the one thing that is the biggest fucking deal, except the unionized workers that understand what the power of a union and a collective bargain is.
.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
It just doesn't work. For me.
It's pretty much a cliche. A friend of mine even has a joke about it. A girl who tells you she got pregnant on birth control is a liar. Because she was never on birth control.
Only, sometimes, she's not. I'm not.
I got pregnant on birth control. Twice.
The birth control pill is not foolproof. For all the things written about how the sexual revolution would never have occurred without access to easy contraceptive methods, I think it's high time that it's acknowledged that the birth control pill is not a goddamn silver bullet.
For starters, you have to take the pill every day, at the same time, to get those 95% effective rates. I suspect that's probably the source of the joke: telling a guy you're on the pill but neglecting to mention that you've forgotten to take it for the last three days.
However, the other issue is exactly what the pill does. The pill is not a condom or a spermicide or a diaphragm or an IUD. It does not physically prevent sperm from entering your uterus and possibly meeting a nice egg that it would be nice to settle down with. The pill messes with a woman's hormones, tricking the body into thinking that the woman is already pregnant, thus preventing a fertilized egg from implanting in the uterus and becoming a pregnancy.
Sidenote: this is the reason for Catholic condemnation of birth control. Morally speaking, the Church holds that a fertilized egg is life, since it contains all the genetic material. Stopping the egg from implanting in the uterus, thus causing the "life" that is the fertilized egg to be discarded, is tantamount to murder. While I find this position untenable in terms of actual living, it is a morally principled and logically sound position.
But it's universally acknowledged that most biology is not exact. Particularly when it comes to biochemistry, there is massive and statistically significant variation across the population. So trying to artificially alter that biochemistry is going to be a hit-and-miss proposition. Think anti-depressants: they don't work the same for everyone. Not even close.
Birth control pills are not much different.
I happen to be one of those people who's hormones fall waaaaay outside the norm. I should have known this, considering all the trouble I had getting through puberty and the ways in which my reproductive system still decides to punish me every month.
But I was a teenager and I bought into everything.
And I got pregnant at the ripe old age of 18. While I was on birth control. I had an abortion. And for those of you keeping score at home, my Catholic upbringing still asserts itself over that decision. I still sometimes cry for no particular reason and then realize I'm still processing a lifetime's worth of guilt and shame over having killed someone. But I do not doubt that it was the right decision, regardless. If I'd had that child, I'd still be married to an unmedicated, obsessive-compulsive control freak that liked to tell me I was worthless, didn't like me leaving the house, and had a penchant for trying to kill me. And there'd be a child in the household to worry about.
So, good decision. Even if it kills me now and again.
I put that experience out of my head. I told myself that I must not have been vigilant enough about taking my pill at exactly the same time every day. I set up a system with alarms and carrying extra packs of pills in all my purses and all manner of elaborate schema to ensure that it didn't happen again.
Well, I've got a two-and-a-half-year-old, so obviously that didn't work out as intended.
I love my daughter. I love her fiercely, dearly and unconditionally. But she was an accident, and I do wonder what my life would look like right now if I'd had the emotional wherewithal to go through a second abortion. Looking back, I think that her father wanted that, which may explain his current absence from our lives. No matter. No one should be forced to have a child they don't want, and men aren't an exception to that.
But these days, I put no stock in the pill. I don't even take it. I don't want to risk the temptation to fall back into the idea that I'm immune from pregnancy because I've got a silver bullet called Orthrotricyclen or Seasonique or what-have-you. Because obviously, it doesn't work for me.
Only, sometimes, she's not. I'm not.
I got pregnant on birth control. Twice.
The birth control pill is not foolproof. For all the things written about how the sexual revolution would never have occurred without access to easy contraceptive methods, I think it's high time that it's acknowledged that the birth control pill is not a goddamn silver bullet.
For starters, you have to take the pill every day, at the same time, to get those 95% effective rates. I suspect that's probably the source of the joke: telling a guy you're on the pill but neglecting to mention that you've forgotten to take it for the last three days.
However, the other issue is exactly what the pill does. The pill is not a condom or a spermicide or a diaphragm or an IUD. It does not physically prevent sperm from entering your uterus and possibly meeting a nice egg that it would be nice to settle down with. The pill messes with a woman's hormones, tricking the body into thinking that the woman is already pregnant, thus preventing a fertilized egg from implanting in the uterus and becoming a pregnancy.
Sidenote: this is the reason for Catholic condemnation of birth control. Morally speaking, the Church holds that a fertilized egg is life, since it contains all the genetic material. Stopping the egg from implanting in the uterus, thus causing the "life" that is the fertilized egg to be discarded, is tantamount to murder. While I find this position untenable in terms of actual living, it is a morally principled and logically sound position.
But it's universally acknowledged that most biology is not exact. Particularly when it comes to biochemistry, there is massive and statistically significant variation across the population. So trying to artificially alter that biochemistry is going to be a hit-and-miss proposition. Think anti-depressants: they don't work the same for everyone. Not even close.
Birth control pills are not much different.
I happen to be one of those people who's hormones fall waaaaay outside the norm. I should have known this, considering all the trouble I had getting through puberty and the ways in which my reproductive system still decides to punish me every month.
But I was a teenager and I bought into everything.
And I got pregnant at the ripe old age of 18. While I was on birth control. I had an abortion. And for those of you keeping score at home, my Catholic upbringing still asserts itself over that decision. I still sometimes cry for no particular reason and then realize I'm still processing a lifetime's worth of guilt and shame over having killed someone. But I do not doubt that it was the right decision, regardless. If I'd had that child, I'd still be married to an unmedicated, obsessive-compulsive control freak that liked to tell me I was worthless, didn't like me leaving the house, and had a penchant for trying to kill me. And there'd be a child in the household to worry about.
So, good decision. Even if it kills me now and again.
I put that experience out of my head. I told myself that I must not have been vigilant enough about taking my pill at exactly the same time every day. I set up a system with alarms and carrying extra packs of pills in all my purses and all manner of elaborate schema to ensure that it didn't happen again.
Well, I've got a two-and-a-half-year-old, so obviously that didn't work out as intended.
I love my daughter. I love her fiercely, dearly and unconditionally. But she was an accident, and I do wonder what my life would look like right now if I'd had the emotional wherewithal to go through a second abortion. Looking back, I think that her father wanted that, which may explain his current absence from our lives. No matter. No one should be forced to have a child they don't want, and men aren't an exception to that.
But these days, I put no stock in the pill. I don't even take it. I don't want to risk the temptation to fall back into the idea that I'm immune from pregnancy because I've got a silver bullet called Orthrotricyclen or Seasonique or what-have-you. Because obviously, it doesn't work for me.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Finding Equilibrium
I've been struggling with the ideas of maturity versus numbness lately, and also with selfishness versus closure.
In some sense, I find it supremely selfish that we're all so obsessed with the idea of demanding "closure" from the chapters of our lives. Life is not a novel; it does not divide into neat vignettes. The desire for closure is (far more often than not) simply a desire to extract a pound of flesh. We want to watch someone bleed so we can feel better, and once we feel better, moving on is simple, so we think to ourselves that this "closure" is necessary.
Really, it's not necessary. We can move on without hurting anyone else; it just takes more effort. It require more of us to move past our own hurt without inflicting it on anyone else; it requires us to give up revenge and accept our own responsibility in whatever happened.
Here's a free insight: you are never an innocent bystander in your interpersonal relationships. A relationship is by definition a situation of give-and-take, and it always, always takes two to tango. Sometimes you give more, sometimes you take more, sometimes its an even-steven exchange, but all those various gray hues are decisions you make. You decide how much to give in your relationships, and how much to take. You decide how much to put up with, and when you throw screaming fits, that's your decision to.
Own those decisions. They are yours, and if you don't like what you get out of them, you have to own them in order to change your behavior.
On the flip side, sometimes people just do treat you really shittily. I struggle with this. I would like, always, to believe that people are their best selves. I am Dr. Pangloss. And so when I realize that someone is behaving in less than an ideal fashion, I struggle. My kind and gentle (ha!) nature would like to forgive them, show them why what they did hurt me, and believe that from that point, they'll stop doing whatever it is.
Yeah, that pretty much never works out.
So, I find myself struggling with the desire to extract pounds of flesh. Hurting someone makes the lesson stick. It's a common trope: I can't count how many movies I've seen in which the generally benevolent teacher inflicts pain on the hapless student so that the pupil will remember the very important lesson being imparted. I mean, it makes sense: we learn not to stick our hand in the fire because doing so HURTS. If I really want to teach someone a lesson, I should hurt them.
I really hate that idea.
Also, I think it's a copout. You can teach without pain. Pain is the easy way, but certainly not the only way, and really, pain doesn't always work.
Then again, sometimes I think that by not forcefully expressing myself when something wrong happens, I'm allowing that ever-threatening numbness to creep in and over take me. Perhaps it's just that I don't care enough to try. I don't care enough to let people know when I'm hurt. I don't care enough to let people know when I think what they've done is wrong.
Numbness is just as much the enemy of equilibrium as anger. Numbness is just as much a threat to a balanced life. In repudiating anger, am I merely giving in to numbness?
I don't know.
In some sense, I find it supremely selfish that we're all so obsessed with the idea of demanding "closure" from the chapters of our lives. Life is not a novel; it does not divide into neat vignettes. The desire for closure is (far more often than not) simply a desire to extract a pound of flesh. We want to watch someone bleed so we can feel better, and once we feel better, moving on is simple, so we think to ourselves that this "closure" is necessary.
Really, it's not necessary. We can move on without hurting anyone else; it just takes more effort. It require more of us to move past our own hurt without inflicting it on anyone else; it requires us to give up revenge and accept our own responsibility in whatever happened.
Here's a free insight: you are never an innocent bystander in your interpersonal relationships. A relationship is by definition a situation of give-and-take, and it always, always takes two to tango. Sometimes you give more, sometimes you take more, sometimes its an even-steven exchange, but all those various gray hues are decisions you make. You decide how much to give in your relationships, and how much to take. You decide how much to put up with, and when you throw screaming fits, that's your decision to.
Own those decisions. They are yours, and if you don't like what you get out of them, you have to own them in order to change your behavior.
On the flip side, sometimes people just do treat you really shittily. I struggle with this. I would like, always, to believe that people are their best selves. I am Dr. Pangloss. And so when I realize that someone is behaving in less than an ideal fashion, I struggle. My kind and gentle (ha!) nature would like to forgive them, show them why what they did hurt me, and believe that from that point, they'll stop doing whatever it is.
Yeah, that pretty much never works out.
So, I find myself struggling with the desire to extract pounds of flesh. Hurting someone makes the lesson stick. It's a common trope: I can't count how many movies I've seen in which the generally benevolent teacher inflicts pain on the hapless student so that the pupil will remember the very important lesson being imparted. I mean, it makes sense: we learn not to stick our hand in the fire because doing so HURTS. If I really want to teach someone a lesson, I should hurt them.
I really hate that idea.
Also, I think it's a copout. You can teach without pain. Pain is the easy way, but certainly not the only way, and really, pain doesn't always work.
Then again, sometimes I think that by not forcefully expressing myself when something wrong happens, I'm allowing that ever-threatening numbness to creep in and over take me. Perhaps it's just that I don't care enough to try. I don't care enough to let people know when I'm hurt. I don't care enough to let people know when I think what they've done is wrong.
Numbness is just as much the enemy of equilibrium as anger. Numbness is just as much a threat to a balanced life. In repudiating anger, am I merely giving in to numbness?
I don't know.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Chickenshit.
I promised, promised, promised myself that I wasn't going to blog about my personal relationships anymore. I really, really did. And I meant it.
It can be seen as more than I little passive aggressive, after all. And in truth, it probably is a little passive aggressive. It's a passive way of expressing my discomfort and anger with the things that go on, a way of expressing my negative feelings while still avoiding all conflict.
I'm conflict-avoidant. Really. I'm not a screamer. I don't pitch fits. I'm really quite meek, a little white mouse. I sit and I nod and I smile and I try to understand what's being put before me, not just what's said but also it's subtext. I try to understand not just the words that are being presented to me, but the context of the lies.
There are always lies. Everyone lies. I lie, although I like to think that I lie less often and less virulently than a lot of people. Maybe that's just me lying to myself; I'll let other people make that call.
But I think I have to break my promise not to write about my personal relationships anymore. I have no other outlet. Some things have to be said, and since I'm a chicken shit, this is how I say them. Perhaps, at some point, I'll get over my pathological need for harmony enough to say them to the offender's faces, and I truly hope I get to that day. But right now, in this moment, I need to say something, and this is the only medium available to me.
Here's the absolute, God's-honest truth: EVERYONE LIES.
And, contrary to what my meek and smiling and understanding face says to you, I am not taken in by your lies. I know you're lying. I'm allowing you to do so.
I know everyone lies, and therefore, I trust no one. I don't trust you. I don't trust you when you say you really like to spend time with me. I don't trust you when you refer to your "ex"-girlfriend. I don't trust you when you tell me that you'd like nothing more than the opportunity to take care of me. I don't trust you when you tell me your marriage is in good shape. I don't trust you when you tell that you're not angry about anything. I don't trust you when you tell me that money's fine.
I know when I'm being lied to. By everyone.
Some of these utterances are the most egregious of falsehoods; others are merely stretches of what is probably a pretty solid grain of truth. They are still ephemeral promises of a solidity that will never materialize. You are not fooling me. I will not cling to your promises like rafts in the vast ocean so that I can drown later on when they disintegrate as I continue to try to clutch the dreams you've given me in cold, cramping, deadened fingernails.
I trust no one. I trust no one's words.
If you want my trust, you earn it. You earn it through action. You earn through unflinching honesty that is ugly and scarred and scary and embarrassing. You earn my trust. It's not an easy task: I'll tell you up front. Many would, I am sure, claim that it's impossible. It's not.
It is possible for me to trust. But you have to quit lying to me if you want that to happen. I am capable of unimaginable feats of forgiveness; I promise you. I have ben forgiven for some pretty awful things in my life, and I know what a gift it is and what a benediction. Because I know, I can forgive. Because I have been shown that it's possible to let go of awful things, I know that I can do it.
I've forgiven people some pretty awful things, too. I don't hold grudges. It would be disingenous to say that the things others have done to me have left me unaffected, because without a doubt my experiences have colored my extreme distrust for the words of others. But holding myself protected and remaining angry are two very, very different things.
I let go of anger a long, long time ago.
So this is what I'd like from the world: stop it. Just quit telling me falsehoods and half-truths and let me have the ugly, unvarnished, unflattering truth. I can handle it. And I'll love you even more for it than I would for the prettiest, most comforting lie.
It can be seen as more than I little passive aggressive, after all. And in truth, it probably is a little passive aggressive. It's a passive way of expressing my discomfort and anger with the things that go on, a way of expressing my negative feelings while still avoiding all conflict.
I'm conflict-avoidant. Really. I'm not a screamer. I don't pitch fits. I'm really quite meek, a little white mouse. I sit and I nod and I smile and I try to understand what's being put before me, not just what's said but also it's subtext. I try to understand not just the words that are being presented to me, but the context of the lies.
There are always lies. Everyone lies. I lie, although I like to think that I lie less often and less virulently than a lot of people. Maybe that's just me lying to myself; I'll let other people make that call.
But I think I have to break my promise not to write about my personal relationships anymore. I have no other outlet. Some things have to be said, and since I'm a chicken shit, this is how I say them. Perhaps, at some point, I'll get over my pathological need for harmony enough to say them to the offender's faces, and I truly hope I get to that day. But right now, in this moment, I need to say something, and this is the only medium available to me.
Here's the absolute, God's-honest truth: EVERYONE LIES.
And, contrary to what my meek and smiling and understanding face says to you, I am not taken in by your lies. I know you're lying. I'm allowing you to do so.
I know everyone lies, and therefore, I trust no one. I don't trust you. I don't trust you when you say you really like to spend time with me. I don't trust you when you refer to your "ex"-girlfriend. I don't trust you when you tell me that you'd like nothing more than the opportunity to take care of me. I don't trust you when you tell me your marriage is in good shape. I don't trust you when you tell that you're not angry about anything. I don't trust you when you tell me that money's fine.
I know when I'm being lied to. By everyone.
Some of these utterances are the most egregious of falsehoods; others are merely stretches of what is probably a pretty solid grain of truth. They are still ephemeral promises of a solidity that will never materialize. You are not fooling me. I will not cling to your promises like rafts in the vast ocean so that I can drown later on when they disintegrate as I continue to try to clutch the dreams you've given me in cold, cramping, deadened fingernails.
I trust no one. I trust no one's words.
If you want my trust, you earn it. You earn it through action. You earn through unflinching honesty that is ugly and scarred and scary and embarrassing. You earn my trust. It's not an easy task: I'll tell you up front. Many would, I am sure, claim that it's impossible. It's not.
It is possible for me to trust. But you have to quit lying to me if you want that to happen. I am capable of unimaginable feats of forgiveness; I promise you. I have ben forgiven for some pretty awful things in my life, and I know what a gift it is and what a benediction. Because I know, I can forgive. Because I have been shown that it's possible to let go of awful things, I know that I can do it.
I've forgiven people some pretty awful things, too. I don't hold grudges. It would be disingenous to say that the things others have done to me have left me unaffected, because without a doubt my experiences have colored my extreme distrust for the words of others. But holding myself protected and remaining angry are two very, very different things.
I let go of anger a long, long time ago.
So this is what I'd like from the world: stop it. Just quit telling me falsehoods and half-truths and let me have the ugly, unvarnished, unflattering truth. I can handle it. And I'll love you even more for it than I would for the prettiest, most comforting lie.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Things Unsaid
There's always things that we don't say. There's always things that just end up forever locked in our throats, because saying them would be inappropriate. Maybe saying them would be pouring salt in wounds, maybe saying them would reopen chapters best left closed. Maybe saying them would be simply childish and petty on the part of the sayer, and no one wants to be perceived that way.
But still, we all know the things we want to say. We've got them planned out and ready to go, should the perfect opportunity to throw them down ever arise. Not that it will. But we like to be prepared.
I'm a nerd, ok? I'm a girl scout. I'm always prepared. Sue me.
So here's my list. It's the current list, which means that it'll change slowly as situations develop and life grinds on. It's already changed considerably. Five years ago, none of these statements were on my list, and in the interim, I've actually managed to utter some things aloud, thereby scratching them off.
"You're a child. Grow up. I may have my issues, but I'm pretty darn glad I don't have to deal with yours anymore. You're a bad person and a bad manipulator, and all you've got going for you is a nice face and bank account."
"You, also, are remarkably childlike. Grow the fuck up. Do you really think I don't know you're lying? For someone that likes to compliment my intelligence, you sure do think pretty lowly of my critical thinking skills."
"I love you, but you drive me insane. I need far more time alone than I get. Would it kill you to go out every now and again?"
"Ignoring people is not a reasonable strategy for weaseling out of your commitments. When you say you're going to do something, either do it, or own the fact that you're not going to do it. I grow tired of being disappointed."
"The hoops you make everyone jump through are ridiculous, and no one ever does the course to your satisfaction anyway. I'm done playing."
"I love you, and I want very much for you to be happy, but we're probably never going to be close again. We're just both too bad at keeping in touch."
"Come home. Come home now. I miss you."
"We've run through our chances. You're not happy, but I'm not going to make you happy. That's something you're going to have to do for yourself. So go do it."
"You know, this could work. If both of us stopped being such chickenshits. Too bad we're both such chickenshits."
I find it therapeutic just to put things out there. I'm sure it's also passive aggressive, but whatever. I never claimed not to have issues of my own.
But still, we all know the things we want to say. We've got them planned out and ready to go, should the perfect opportunity to throw them down ever arise. Not that it will. But we like to be prepared.
I'm a nerd, ok? I'm a girl scout. I'm always prepared. Sue me.
So here's my list. It's the current list, which means that it'll change slowly as situations develop and life grinds on. It's already changed considerably. Five years ago, none of these statements were on my list, and in the interim, I've actually managed to utter some things aloud, thereby scratching them off.
"You're a child. Grow up. I may have my issues, but I'm pretty darn glad I don't have to deal with yours anymore. You're a bad person and a bad manipulator, and all you've got going for you is a nice face and bank account."
"You, also, are remarkably childlike. Grow the fuck up. Do you really think I don't know you're lying? For someone that likes to compliment my intelligence, you sure do think pretty lowly of my critical thinking skills."
"I love you, but you drive me insane. I need far more time alone than I get. Would it kill you to go out every now and again?"
"Ignoring people is not a reasonable strategy for weaseling out of your commitments. When you say you're going to do something, either do it, or own the fact that you're not going to do it. I grow tired of being disappointed."
"The hoops you make everyone jump through are ridiculous, and no one ever does the course to your satisfaction anyway. I'm done playing."
"I love you, and I want very much for you to be happy, but we're probably never going to be close again. We're just both too bad at keeping in touch."
"Come home. Come home now. I miss you."
"We've run through our chances. You're not happy, but I'm not going to make you happy. That's something you're going to have to do for yourself. So go do it."
"You know, this could work. If both of us stopped being such chickenshits. Too bad we're both such chickenshits."
I find it therapeutic just to put things out there. I'm sure it's also passive aggressive, but whatever. I never claimed not to have issues of my own.
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