Elizabeth A. Havey's Blog, page 21
February 25, 2019
“We’re made of star stuff.”
“We’re made of star stuff.” Carl Sagan, our country’s beloved astronomer often said this. But he wasn’t referring to the heights we might reach in a career. He was actually making a reference to the elements in our universe, those on the periodic table, those that resulted from the BIG BANG and now form part of us. Julia Rosen writes in her piece: “The Periodic Table’s Original Place Setting”, that since the invention of the periodic table some 150 years ago this month, “…scientists have worked to fill in the rows of elements and make sense of their properties” and “…scouring the cosmos to figure out where all 118 elements came from.”
Their conclusion: “…every element on Earth–except for a few made recently by humans–was inherited from the nebula that gave birth to our solar system 4.5 billions years ago.”
That includes the iron in our skyscrapers, the silicon in our computers, the gold in our jewelry, and THE CALCIUM IN OUR BONES.
STAR STUFF (If you skip the science, make sure to read the poetry at the end.)
It’s a nice thought, that we are made of star stuff, but unlike the universe we have an expiration date. The definition of infinity is: Limitless or endless in space, extent, or size; impossible to measure or calculate.
But in our world, more and more things feel finite. Things will end. Lives will end. Things won’t stay the same. Maybe that’s because of the rapid changes in our culture. With social media and almost everyone owning a phone and having access to so much information, you have to be a SUPER STAR to stay in the limelight, to keep up. You have to outshine everyone else in your words, actions and ideas. You have to read, watch, imbibe everything you can. Being quiet probably won’t work. Or it will at a level that may still be acceptable–which I see as a good thing.
But having just written those sentences, I find so much irony in my word choices: SUPER STAR, LIMELIGHT, OUTSHINE.
And if you don’t mind my upfront admission: I reject referring to men and women whose occupation is ACTING as stars. They are ACTORS. They might be made of some starry stuff–but so are we. Everyone is–according to science and Carl Sagan.
SO WHERE ARE WE IN THE UNIVERSE?
Julia Rosen writes in her piece that within fifteen minutes of the BIG BANG, atoms of hydrogen (which on the Periodic Table is atomic number one) coalesced out the cloud of newborn particles as it expanded and cooled. Some expanded and cooled to make helium (atomic number two) And get this:
THESE TWO ELEMENTS MAKE UP 98% of the universe and are the primary ingredients in stars. And the very first stars formed about 100 million years after the BIG BANG. If you want to learn more about how the next elements were formed ie atomic number 6 which is carbon, atomic number 8 which is oxygen read here .
A FEW FACTS YOU MIGHT FIND INTERESTING (from Rosen’s article)
It is now 13.8 billion years after the BIG BANG. Stars have converted about 2% of the universe’s hydrogen and helium into other elements.
Platinum (atomic number 78) is a million times more rare that iron because neutron star mergers don’t happen very often. (That’s why precious metals are precious.)
The presence of elements such as carbon and oxygen helped cool corners of the galaxy so that smaller stars like the sun could form.
The appearance of metals allowed solar systems to emerge from the discs of gas and dust that swirled around these stars.
The increasing ratio of iron to elements such as oxygen also increased the chances of forming rocky planets with large cores, like Earth.
As the universe ages, its elements will get heavier, star formations will cease, and its composition will stop changing. How much hydrogen will be left?
But the universe will still exist in a sense, since all elements are really just rearrangements of the hydrogen atoms that formed in the first few minutes after the Big Bang. They’ve been there ever since, in one element or another, Rosen writes. “Some are here on Earth, where they make up everything. Including us.”
MORE ON STAR STUFF
Neil de Grasse Tyson, an astrophysicist famous for his writing and his wild ties, has knowledge and poetic skill. So he gets the last word for this post:
“There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmon knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens…
The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff. Keep looking up.”
Photo Credits: LA TIMES, Creative by Nature
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February 18, 2019
SOME THINGS ARE JUST SACRED
I’ve been writing this blog for a long time and have shared many of my peculiar penchants and ideas. Each one of us walks around with memories that cause us to react a certain way, to possibly empathize, reject or accept something. And it happens in a nano-second. So I think you’ll understand when I rejected the above cartoon which is “playing with the iconic.” I reject it because the original represents something important to me.
MY MEMORIES
And just this past week I unearthed the pages of a memoir that I wrote when my mother was still alive. The timing was right as I had so many questions for her–she being the central figure of this remembrance that focuses on my childhood–that my father died leaving her with three young children.
BUT LIKE ME, EVERY ONE OF US has something in our past that colors our reactions throughout our lives. It’s deeply planted in our psyches and arises at the oddest times, pulling on that memory or memories and often determining our choices. SOME OF IT is recognizable and can be labeled. Some of it is buried so deeply that we are unaware of its affect on our actions and reactions.
WHY WRITE ABOUT THE PAST?
Have you read any of these famous memoirs?
EAT, PRAY, LOVE Elizabeth Gilbert, DREAMS OF MY FATHER, Barack Obama, THE GLASS CASTLE, Jeannette Walls, THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING, Joan Didion, KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL, Anthony Bourdain, TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE, Mitch Album
Meghan Daum writes:
a memoir that reads like a confession is asking the reader for something;
a memoir that is an honest relating of one’s life is a generous gift, a sharing of a life so the reader will feel less alone.
Yes! Why do we read novels and stories, watch films and elongated series? For entertainment yes. But more deeply, we read and watch to help us understand our own lives, to slip into another’s life and find a human connection, something to help us keep breathing. Again as Daum states, to share in another’s life so we will feel less alone. That’s the key on this big and often frightening planet.
SNOW WHITE HELPED ME
FAMILY TIES modern mother, Elise Keaton, said NO to Snow White, claimed she was too passive, always hanging around waiting for her prince. In the light (thank God) of our age today, a woman’s consciousness has been raised. We are more understanding of empathy and reaching out to people of all shapes, colors and experiences. But when I go back to my childhood, it wasn’t always like that. Snow White may have been passive, but she was what was available to me–in that time period. And I needed her.
When I wanted to be Snow White, I wore a white cotton dishtowel tied around my neck that fell not so gracefully over my corduroys, tee-shirt, and saddle shoes. But in my mind I was dealing with the Wicked Queen and hanging out with the Seven Dwarfs. What I saw in the mirror was filtered through my amazing childhood imagination.
But here is where the photo above just will never work for me. THIS, FROM MY MEMOIR:
One day, before I’m in school, I’m doing a puzzle. It’s just a simple cardboard one, a picture of Snow White in her glass coffin with the seven dwarves gathered around her. I show her (my mother) the puzzle when I’m finished and she smiles, tells me that my daddy is buried in a coffin in a cemetery. This is a concept that slowly becomes real to me, as she drives me there that very afternoon, and shows me his grave. There’s a little gazebo twenty skips away. You can climb on it. Play in it. I go there. She stands by the grave, staring down.
AS a child, I had several picture books about SNOW WHITE. My mother read me the story, that’s what kids my age wanted: fairy tales, princesses. So when she used Snow White in her coffin to try to help me understand where my father was, what death meant–all those difficult concepts for a child between the ages of 3 and 5–she did an amazing thing. And my vision of Snow White in her coffin will always be sacred to me, connected to that memory–despite the rise of feminist thinking.
I must confess that once when I was at Disney Land, I tried on the Snow White costume. Truly, you can purchase an adult costume and live out your childhood dreams. But as I stood looking at myself in the mirror, I wasn’t Snow White. The really powerful part was the memory. Yes, that kid buried inside me would have leapt for joy if such a costume had been offered to her, but she did just fine without it, the image filtered through my amazing childhood imagination.
WHAT CAN YOU OFFER?
I am sure that one of you reading this had a similar love for a character, a book. And though you might laugh if some artist riffed off that character, you would prefer to keep your memory pure and simple. After all, they didn’t even have cream pies in Snow White’s day. And maybe Prince Charming would decide to encourage Snow White to follow her princess duties so he could stay home, take care of the kids.
THANKS TO: shusaku takaoka art
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February 10, 2019
TODAY: I’M SHERLOCK HOLMES, FINDING CLUES ON MY DESK
I’m a weird chick and I’m in love with paper–and it will probably be the end of me. Someday my family might find me bent over my computer, my head on my old ergonomic keyboard (I have two Apple keyboards I refuse to use), with paper bunching up around me. They might be able to bury me in my paper.
But what treasures! Some are folders of current ideas. Most are scribbled notes having to do with writing, and having to do with my current work in progress. ( You still working on that damn novel?) Yes. I am.
Day to day I find wisps of golden sayings, a quote that sparks an idea, a description of a book that I must read or a wonderful quote like the following:
Plot is no more than footprints left in the snow after your characters have run by on their way to incredible destinations.— Ray Bradbury
Thanks Ray, you are so right.
Thus, my plot takes a fantastic turn from the piles of 8 by12 paper with typed notes on my desk—the keys to a creative day. Or I might send something to Facebook or Twitter to see if I get a response, or read these notes over and over until I find a way to use one of them in my novel—or like today, I want to share some of this stuff with you.
THOUGHTS RELATED TO CHICKEN BLOOD
I am awakened in the night, hearing a high whining noise that penetrates my dreams—getting louder and louder. It’s the sound of hurt, pain, red– under my window. I look to see, because the world is white in the moonlight. There are two animals fighting, the noise persisting. It prevents me from further sleep. My body is ragged with it. Then in the morning, a pool of watery blood on a plate in our kitchen—my mother has taken frozen chicken from the freezer to defrost.
OR…STEAL FROM YOURSELF—A Story About A Rug
Yes, it’s a family story. To kind of shake up my brain, because I’ve been working on a different project, a memoir of sorts. When I go there, my family, my people walk around my desk. They come down from the pictures on the wall and ask me to write about them. Okay. I can and will if a flash of memory occurs.
And it does…
I don’t know exactly how old I was, but probably only three, when we were at my Nana’s house and Papa Pete, a very tall gentleman with white white hair, caught the toe of his black shoe at the rising edge of an oriental rug in their living room and crashed to the floor. I mean this elderly man went down like a tree falling. I remember. His daughters, his wife, they all shouted out…Things like that you remember, even if you are only three.
The irony, sadness of this story, was the fall led to his death. The other irony is that the rug was a gift to the love of his life, my Grandmother. For Peter Rausch came from Huntington, Indiana to the big city of Chicago to find work, and make a life. He achieved it all, selling beautiful handmade rugs from the orient for the biggest store in Chicago—Marshall Field and Company. He also met my maternal grandmother in Chicago, eventually gifting her with one of the rugs he sold–this one deep red and blue, with curving and floral designs surrounded by lovely fringe. His adult life in some ways truly began and ended with this rug, which was moved from Chicago to California (but that’s another gripping story) and is now refurbished and adorning my brother’s home.
Look around you. We all have stories like these. When I was young and living in Chicago, we could burn the leaves that fell from our elm, oak and maple trees. Autumn was fun, because our reward for raking the front and back lawn was lighting a fire and burning our piles. There are hollows in the fire as they burn. You can see some of the leaves beginning to curl, others that are greener fighting back, refusing to die. My ears turn pink from the heat and my hair starts to smell like smoke. Sometimes we put Idaho potatoes at the bottom of the leaf pile and if the fire is hot enough, they cook. We break them open and pile on the butter. It’s best to rake and burn when the moon is like a cold stone, big and bright.
When I was growing up in Chicago, we lived one block from the suburban line of the ROCK ISLAND TRAIN. I would lie in bed, the train in the distance, eery and sad, but often making me think I’m missing out on something–on travel, on strange places–and then I’d remember how content I was to be safe and snug in my bed. As author Kate Morton wrote in her book, THE FORGOTTEN GARDEN” You make a life out of what you have, not what you’re missing.
So today, no matter what you are doing–caring for children, heading to work that you might love and yet again you might only tolerate–think of these words from the writer Jen Hatmaker in her book, MESS AND MOXIE: YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE WHAT YOU FIRST WERE. No, you do not. Because as Natalie Babbitt wrote in TUCK EVERLASTING: Don’t be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life.
And all of this was in a folder on my desk. Have a great week. Be good to yourself.
Photo credit: Sherlock Holmes Day/Days of the Year
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February 3, 2019
Empathy in the Workplace
A recent article in the Oprah Magazine underlined something I have known for a long time–the necessity of bringing empathy into your workplace. The Patient Experience Book Club, which is held at New York City’s Tisch Hospital, talked to Oprah about how the club can enlighten them, as they read about the background of certain groups of patients and thus are better able to empathize with their patients’ individual situations.
The group had read HILLBILLY ELEGY by J.D. Vance so that they might know better how to help patients whose needs echoed the society featured in the book. One of the doctors explained how the reading might help: “This reminds me of what we see all the time. Social determinants of health, right? How do you help a homeless person who comes in repeatedly? You get him a home. Then he stops coming back, because he can care for himself.”
Another participant in the group echoed that saying, “You can give all the medical assistance you want, but if you’re not addressing the underlying problems…well” and her voice trailed off. But everyone was nodding. The group comes together so that they can better understand the role of the healthcare system in our ever-changing society. Legal assistance, housing, food assistance, all of these needs weigh on the social worker who in the hospital situation works with the physicians and other staff members. Empathy and understanding is needed by everyone.
On a recent episode of NEW AMSTERDAM the hospital is challenged by a frequent flier, a homeless person who visits the hospital regularly for care–and because his care is free, he is costing the hospital millions of dollars. What Dr. Max, the head of the hospital, decides to do is out of the normal scope, for sure, but he finds the homeless man a place to live, using hospital funds to pay the rent. Yes, this is TV, but the idea is an interesting one, because paying the guy’s rent is so much cheaper than his constant medical care. And eventually this homeless man takes on a small job at the hospital to help pay his rent and everybody wins.
Reaching back to HILLBILLY ELEGY, another hospital official asks: “Can we apply anything from this to our patients–who, admittedly, are not from Kentucky and Ohio?” Another participant provides an answer that seems to satisfy the group: “If we get a sense of where patients come from, it can help us meet them where they are.”
I remember when I worked at Mercy Hospital in Chicago in the maternity unit–the impact of a woman who presented: usually in pain, often ready to deliver. There was much to do immediately–get her situated in a gown, in a bed. Take vitals, take blood. Start an IV and most of all evaluate the baby by listening to its heartbeat and doing an exam to determine how far along the mother was in her labor. There is little time to expand questioning that provides empathy. Even when hurrying, I had to be open and calm, understanding and warm. And often patients are frightened and don’t want to cooperate. As another member of the Tisch book club states: “Everything they bring with them is important in the presentation of the illness. It’s important to always understand their social factors–” Yes.
The group at Tisch Hospital stressed the importance of social workers who obviously are trained to assist healthcare workers with patients who need help with housing, food, and often protection from a family member or partner. One of the social workers replied: “Those (needs) ARE healthcare.” She’s right and I think we forget that in the voices and noise we hear everyday in the news, on television or see in the stories on film and television series. Healthcare is about maintaining homeostasis and all aspects of a patient’s life affects that–so do their social interactions.
This is an excerpt from one of my posts about forgiveness, which calls out for EMPATHY: In recent years medical science has urged forgiveness as an aspect of balance or homeostasis in one’s health. Some studies have shown that forgiving reduces chronic pain, aids cardiovascular problems, and decreases depression and anxiety. People who don’t forgive and harbor anger can have higher heart rates and blood pressure.
Final thought: we don’t need to be working in a hospital or have a social worker’s degree to know that being empathetic to another human is the right thing to do. Oprah’s piece about the book club at Tisch ends with a vision of these workers hurrying back to their jobs and the chaos of patient demands. The writer states: But thanks to a few dozen dedicated readers, today might be a little different.
Why not head to your local library, bookstore or online store–purchase a book today. Let’s all stay empathetic.
P.S. I am asking for empathy from my readers! I am using an new editor and working to get used to it AND, many of you did not get my post last week and might not get this one today. MANY WENT TO SPAM. This will be fixed and I apologize. If necessary this post will be re-posted this week. Thanks for hanging in there with me.
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January 27, 2019
Friendships: What Causes Them? How Can We Keep Them?
What mental processes if any do we use to pick the friends we have. I’ve never really considered that, have you?
Some may be conscious and some not. First friends usually are the result of proximity–we pal around with the kids in our neighborhoods.
But what else causes us to gravitate to a friend.
THE SIBLING QUESTION; THE BIRTH ORDER QUESTION
My husband has ten siblings. I have two. His closest friendship was with his younger brother–the next born after him, the same sex, they shared a room. Friendship bloomed. That brother has died, and though my husband is close to his other siblings, men and women, he still yearns for that initial bond with his brother.
I have two siblings, one older, one younger, both boys. I started to think about the women in my life who I have bonded with, especially my group in high school that in some ways formed the woman I became.
Ironically, five or more were like me–they had a brother or brothers. No sister. It would be fascinating to discover if unconsciously we gravitated to one another for that reason. Another question would be birth placement. I’m a middle child. My best friend in grade school was the oldest of a big family. She showed me ways to take charge. That was true of another close friend in college, also the oldest of a large family. Carole knew about responsibility. Which brings me to…
CURFEWS, CHORES, LIMITATIONS
Do we pick our friends later on because their habits are the opposite of ours or similar?
I was in charge of my younger brother and often cleaned the family home; my friend Joan had similar responsibilities and we became fast friends;
Most of the time in high school and always in college, homework for me came first. That was not the case for my college roommate and we were FAST FRIENDS.
During my working life as a teacher, then a nurse, I gravitated to women and men who saw their working life as important, fulfilling. I’d label myself rather serious, but as a mother and wife, I admire people who light up the room, who make me laugh, who realize that we can’t always be serious. Thanks, Teri!
MAYBE IT DOES START WITH YOUR BIRTH ORDER, YOUR SIBLINGS
In a recent issue of REAL SIMPLE, an amazing article, Why You Should Treat Your Family Like Strangers, by Jennifer King Lindley, addressed some of the sibling and family issues. She writes: It is a truth universally acknowledged: We are often most impatient, angriest, and least compassionate toward those we should be kindest to—our supposed loved ones. (“If you think you’re enlightened, go spend a week with your family,” wrote spiritual teacher Ram Dass.)
In the article, she addresses the issues of sister siblings–how one wants to relate and another is too busy to bother. Lindley writes: “With siblings, we regress. We become 12 years old again and feel the same conflicts. You may remember feeling unseen or being in her shadow,” says Barbara Greenberg PhD. Resist shooting her a string of frown emojis. “You maybe have a vision of how you think a sister should act,” (like the idea that a good big sister should be your closest confidant). “Try to take that label off the relationship. Being more compassionate is about appreciating people for who they actually are.”
She may not crave the same level of day-to-day closeness, but she was the first one there for your last true emergency. “It helps me to think of people as unique species,” says John Kim, a licensed therapist. “Some of us are giraffes. Some of us are lions. You can’t expect a giraffe to act like a lion. They are very different creatures.” To take some pressure off so you feel kinder, think about how you can get those needs met somewhere else. If you hoped for a sister who could always be a shoulder to lean on, for example, can you find that support in a close friend?
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
I have not even addressed the person who has no siblings, who creates friendships by going out into the world and finding people they want to be with. Maybe there are echoes of what they’ve seen in cousins or even in their parents’ relationship. We build as we grow.
I found this in another post that I wrote called, Breaking Into the Conversation. It’s a good reminder that we always have the power to relate to others, to find a friend.
Each of us has a pool of stories, opinions that we offer in conversation when there is an opening, when we find the space to express our views. But what if this pool would become so narrowed down that we might be expressing 20-25 ideas. There is never an excuse for not reading and learning about possibilities. The world is wide open inviting us to read, consider and take new things in our minds and hearts. Maybe that will help us break into the conversation of living–and people will no longer ignore what we have to say. They will be eager to give us an opening–they will be looking to us to YES, guide the conversation. And be a friend.
PHOTO: Merlow Marketing.com
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January 20, 2019
What Would POET Mary Oliver Do?
Here we go…in just a few hours–FIRST I’m in church and twice I hear that I’m supposed to back the current administration (or at least pray for them) because of their views on LIFE. Then SECOND, I’m home and on twitter and I view an elderly Native American man being taunted and jeered at by WHITE, YOUNG, MAGA-HAT-WEARING youth, who it turns out were in D.C. for the MARCH FOR LIFE event–and were from COVINGTON CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL. Why for the love of God and the freedoms in this amazing country are these things happening?
What I witnessed on Twitter made me sick. Then what I read the next day explained a lot. There were two marches in D.C. THE INDIGENOUS PEOPLES MARCH on Friday and of course the MARCH FOR LIFE.
People, Dear Readers of mine–what is life? What is beating in the bloodstream and heart of the 64-year-old Native American man, Nathan Phillips, who simply wanted to sing and play his drum? HIS LIFE. His precious life. WE ONLY GET ONE, and THIS IS HIS.
And what was beating in the young hearts of the students who surrounded him and jeered and laughed–at his wrinkled face, his drum, the color of his skin? Were they truly in THAT PLACE to celebrate life?? Maybe not. Maybe at this point in time the MARCH FOR LIFE was just an excuse to get out of town, wear their MAGA hats and act like the bullies and punks they truly are.
LIFE? They don’t care about life. And many of the people they live with and talk with don’t either. They care about POWER, the power over another’s choices, another’s body, another’s way of life. They take that POWER when they can–because they find strength in numbers; because they ARE NOT a certain color or sex or speak with an accent or came from another country.
The Catholic high school apologized to Mr. Phillips, said they were investigating and would take “appropriate action up to and including expulsion.” No, that’s not enough. What they need is a rewrite of how they are teaching these youths. It is also reported that one mother blamed what her son did on black Muslims. Yes, that’s the way. NEVER TAKE RESPONSIBILITY for the THINGS YOU SAY AROUND YOUR KIDS.
But when they are back in their school rooms, if they are allowed in, what subjects do they need to study? What discussions do they need to have? What guidance will they have?
As a former teacher, I would recommend a course in NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURE–and that’s just for starters. These kids were shouting, “Build that wall, build that wall.” I saw the video. Phillips was wiping away tears. And he is recorded as saying THE TRUTH:
“This is indigenous lands. We’re not supposed to have walls here. We never did.”
I would also ask them if they have any knowledge of where most of the names of these UNITED STATES came from. As my smart daughter pointed out, the naming of states was appropriation–that is: the action of taking something for one’s own use, typically without the owner’s permission.
But research does relate that 26 states have names that were Indian words and names. We need to honor the peoples that gave us those names. It is part of the heritage, the soil of this nation.
When Ruth Buffalo, a North Dakota state lawmaker and member of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation, saw what had occurred she was saddened to see young people showing disrespect for an elder and military veteran. “The behavior shown…is just a snapshot of what indigenous people have faced and are continuing to face.”
U.S. Representative Deb Haaland from New Mexico a member of the Laguna Pueblo tribe and also a Catholic, said she was saddened to see boys mocking an elder who is revered in Native American culture.
BUT WHAT WOULD MARY OLIVER DO? WHAT WOULD SHE WRITE?
The prize-winning poet died this past week at the age of 83. She wrote more than 37 books of poetry and collected essays. To celebrate the GIFT OF MARY OLIVER, I suggest reading, purchasing one of her books. Some of my favorites: A THOUSAND MORNINGS; UPSTREAM, SELECTED ESSAYS; BLUE IRIS, Poems and Essays.
I think Mary Oliver would approve of these answers:
I HAVE DECIDED
I have decided to find myself a home in the mountains, somewhere high up where one learns to live peacefully in the cold and the silence.
It’s said that in such a place certain revelations may be discovered. That what the spirit reaches for may be eventually felt, if not exactly understood.
Slowly, no doubt. I’m not talking about a vacation. Of course at the same time I mean to stay exactly where I am. Are you following me?
PRAYING
It doesn’t have to be blue iris, it can be weeds in a vacant lot.
Just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate.
This isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks. A silence in which another voice may speak.
Thanks to Maureen on Facebook for the Poster. Thanks for reading.
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January 13, 2019
Supporting Women–Ideas from Natalie Portman & the ACLU
There is so much information swirling around us on the internet, on our phones, televisions and when we pick up any printed material–it’s hard to focus. Decisions are often made because we cannot focus on one idea.
But in 2017, at the dawn of this administration, I did turn my focus to an organization that I knew would help sort things out for me–would provide me with an empathetic focus on events in my country as well as a legal focus–THE ACLU or American Civil Liberties Union. They do not disappoint.
And being smart, they welcome people whose names have some power. They know that people in the trenches have something to say.
In their latest issue of THE ACLU MAGAZINE, Natalie Portman, actor, director and activist is that person. She works with Time’s Up Legal Defense Fund to help women who have experienced sexual harassment.
Portman begins: I had always wondered why there was still unequal representation in nearly every industry and particularly in positions of leadership and power. In my work with the Time’s Up Legal Defense Fund, which provides survivors of sexual harassment or abuse in the workplace with legal help, I’ve come to understand that the reason women in nearly every industry are not represented in powerful positions is because women are being discriminated against or retaliated against in hiring and promotion. When they do get jobs, they are often harassed and assaulted, and they are paid less than their male counterparts.
Many women are further oppressed by intersections with other marginalized identities–whether by sexual orientation, race, age, class, religion, physical ability–and are subject to multiple avenues of discrimination and harassment at work. We want all people to lead the charge to make hiring more fair, to make wages more equitable, and to make the workplace environment safe and dignified for all.
WHAT CAN YOU DO?
Portman’s words provide a great summary of all the twisted and sometimes unexpected ways that women experience discrimination.
When I was working in healthcare as a nurse, the charge nurse position for each shift was compensated with an increase in the hourly wage, a good incentive. But because we were primarily a female unit, the administration quickly rescinded the extra amount. They reasoned that they could just appoint someone to the position. Doing that did not require any incentive and so they removed it. What were the results of doing this:
many nurses didn’t want the responsibility, because they were not being compensated;
when assigned the position, taking it on without agency often occured;
instead of being something to strive for, the position became a burden.
This is a minor example, but underlines what women are often up against.
WHAT CAN YOU DO?
Here are Natalie Portman’s SIX WAYS TO SUPPORT WOMEN IN THE WOKKPLACE:
GIVE: You can give or raise money for organizations fighting for women’s equality, like the Time’s Up Legal Defense Fund or the ACLU.
GATHER: Meet with other women and see what change you want to make. Through Time’s Up, or on your own, gathering has been the central principle of what we do that has created every action we’ve taken. ( At the beginning of last year, the Progressive Women of Conejo Valley, a group I helped form, interviewed and then raised money to support two women and one man for our local school board. They ran on an inclusive platform, especially regarding what high school students should be allowed to READ. They were all elected!)
LISTEN: If any group you’re in has people who only look like you–change that group. It’s an awakening to hear from women who have different experiences of marginalization.
DEMAND: There are plenty of women who have the power to negotiate for, or grant, equal pay. Be embarrassed if everyone in your workplace looks like you. Pay attention to physical ability, age, race, sexual orientation, gender identity, and make sure you’ve got all kinds of experiences represented.
GOSSIP WELL: Stop the rhetoric that a women is crazy or difficult. If a man says a women is crazy or difficult ask him: What bad thing did you do to her? It’s code that he is trying to discredit her reputation. Make efforts to hire people who’ve had their reputations smeared in retaliation.
DON’T BE SHY: Don’t shy away from consequences for those who abuse their power. Those who abuse power are motivated by self-interest and will only change their behavior if they worry they will lose what they care about. Many men are behaving like we live in a zero-sum games, that if women get the respect, access, and value they deserve, men will lose theirs. But when you light someone else’s torch with your own, you don’t lose your fire, you just make more light and more heat.
LIGHT A WOMEN’S TORCH. THE LIGHT WILL MULTIPLY AND THE HEAT WILL INTENSIFY FOR ALL OF US.
This is an excerpt of a speech Natalie delivered at Variety’s Power of Women event and was later published in MEDIUM.
PHOTO: ACLU WEBSITE
Support the ACLU: aclu.org/jointhechallenge
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January 6, 2019
Stick to the Truth–And Dance
Or–when I met Nancy Pelosi.
From childhood on, when a person is happy about something, they jump, twirl–they dance. In the teen years, new dance moves are often born of enthusiasm about a choice. They drive a person to experience the space around them.
That’s a great thing, Readers, that feeling of space, of choice. And it’s even better for women. Because it’s time for women to dance again, to move onto the floor, throw up their arms and call out for truth. Why? Because women are gaining voice and power. A grandmother is now third in line for the presidency during a time when men (and many whose dancing years left them long ago) are clinging to power with their last defense: women shaming and lies.
NAME CALLING
It’s an old trick and it has to stop. In the LA TIMES, Virginia Heffernan remembers a short story by Kristen Roupenian that appeared in the New Yorker. Talk about #MeToo! The story relates the disintegration of a couple’s relationship, the mild male character stooping to the lowest low when that relationship fails. He calls the woman he is supposed to have loved a “whore.” Why? The author indicates it’s that basic, baked in fear of women, fear of their power.
This week 102 women took office in the new Congress. 102!! And we are just beginning. Were they welcomed by the men? Not always. Heffernan writes that these guys holding on to their power well, “they’ve had enough.” Because when Rep. Rashida Tlaib from Michigan used the impeachment word and another commonplace vulgarism to refer to a certain person who uses vulgar language often but, come on now, he’s a guy–her supporters loved it, but men on the other side of the aisle scorned her vocabulary. She has not apologized.
DANCING, WELL NOT IN THE AISLES, YET…
These guys are also picking on Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York saying she is so YOUNG (do older men fear young women) and insisting that she is naive. And she dances! What right has a congresswoman to dance? This is serious business. (Well you old guys don’t always stick to that seriousness when you are eager to destroy healthcare for all people–and that includes women and children, and you care naught for the rights of minorities and that also includes women and children. Who are you really serious about? Bankers–and we know how the gender numbers stack up in that category.)
TRUTH TELLING–YES ON BOTH SIDES
Jennifer Egan is a Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist whose recent piece in TIME MAGAZINE–FACTS STILL EXIST– moved me. She writes that when online, the words of lies and truth look the same. And certainly their are folks who take advantage of that. She postulates that much of fraudulent news allows the avoidance of hard facts.
She writes: “How much better it would be if the Sandy Hook massacre really were a hoax, rather than an actual slaughter of 20 kindergartens and six school staff members.”
Or: “What a relief to conclude that hundreds of international climatologists are lying rather than face the perilous state of our talent–and the tiny window of time we have to preserve life as we know it.” IN OTHER WORDS, FEAR MAKES US WANT TO BELIEVE LIES. FEAR CAN CONTROL US.
Egan writes that the SHORT-TERM opioid-like effect of these lies gives the believer a kind of short-term solace (I don’t have to worry about those things) at the cost of our then inability to work on and solve these problems that are not going away: gun violence and climate change. She mentions a certain leader who at his rallies has co-opted the term FAKE NEWS, thus finding a way of keeping his followers happy. It’s the new bread and circuses. It is accepting to be ignorant and ignoring the truth. It is dangerous.
FREEDOM TO WRITE, SPEAK and DANCE
But new days are dawning and as they do, old fears are also rising. Can the women in our new Congress truly make a difference? Will they be listened too? Will they withdraw under the word lashes and criticism of the older male contingent? (My nice way of saying OLD WHITE MEN.) So far I’m betting on the women, who represent years of waiting, of working, of preparing for these moments. I’m betting on Nancy Pelosi. (see P.S.) I’m believing in their ability to dance, dance, dance. But most of all, I believe in their advocacy of TRUTH.
And like novelist Jennifer Egan writes and believes, the new congresswomen have arrived at their new positions BECAUSE they are not afraid to tell the truth, write now, speak well–do all of these things despite blowback, criticism, jeering and name-calling. They know that truth is our *BEST SHOT at saving our democracy.
And when they do, you can bet there will be lots of DANCING!!
P.S. Sometime during 2012, I met Nancy Pelosi. It was in a private home of a dear friend in Des Moines. Nancy was there to support Leonard Boswell who was running for reelection in Iowa’s 3rd Congressional district. When Nancy had finished speaking and was surrounded by many, my husband and I headed into the dining room for some treats. Moments later, someone tapped on my shoulder and I turned. It was Nancy Pelosi, asking my name and introducing herself. We chatted and my husband asked her “What is your most current important issue?” She smiled and responded, “My grandchildren.”
Now that makes me want to DANCE!
*Jennifer Egan’s phrase
Photo: My Collage
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December 31, 2018
Looking Up in 2019
Being with family and friends these past two weeks has kept me from writing, but not thinking about life and all the positives it can contain.
And so I am welcoming your thoughts about change and adventure, about thanks in all of its many forms.
LOOKING UP can be about:
attitude, that life is improving, that intentions are positive.
It can be about educating oneself in so many ways–researching, discovering, inventing, planning.
And it can be about pure gratitude that another year awaits, the metaphor for a clean slate on which to grow one’s life, one’s talents and to reach out and expand one’s experience of life.
The ability to greet each new day holds immeasurable possibilities. Or as the artwork above emphasizes–it is always better to look up physically, emotionally and mentally–to expect improvement, even greatness and blessings.
Wishing all of that for you, Dear Reader.
PHOTO CREDIT: Pinterest
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December 22, 2018
Finding Joy in the Season of Light and Dark…
Sparkling new ideas this time of year are hard to find. But in the newspaper this morning, columnist Chris Erskine lighted up the page. Chris writes a column called MIDDLE AGES. He shares his life as a dad, husband, sports lover, gardener…you get the drift.
At the beginning of this year, his eldest son died in a car accident. I wept when I read his column about that loss. THE MAN CAN WRITE.
Then at Thanksgiving (we’re talking weeks ago) his wife died. Her cancer had reoccured and so here he was this morning, with another personal column published in the paper. HOW DO YOU DO THAT?
His headline: GRIEF AND JOY CAN SURGE ALONG THE SAME CHANNEL.
And yes, we can all identify with that. Everyone of us can pull from our calendar of the last 357 or so days of this year–events, hours, days, maybe weeks that were hard, challenging, frightening or that just plain sucked. It’s called LIFE.
But I mention Chris and his column because of his strength and outlook. He is left to raise his other son, the one he always refers to as the “little guy” who I believe is in the middle grades–and also to care for a 300 pound beagle, a house and a garden.
His incredible take on the light and dark of his situation flies off the page:
“..I keep thinking of something William Hurt once said. ‘If you cut off the capacity for grief in your life, you cut off the joy at the same time. They both come up through the same tunnel.'” Chris’s reaction to that: GRIEVE, DANCE.
Then he writes: “For the record I quit drinking on Tuesday, started again on Wednesday, quit on Thursday, and so on.” He thanks the folks who keep bringing bottles of “hooch” remarking that they must think he’s stuck in a snowdrift and can’t get out. YES. Momentarily he is.
And so is the “little guy” who gets sick a few days after his mother is buried, his first illness without her. They watch a Clint Eastwood film to get the little guy through and Chris decides that in some way he’s Eastwood and his son is the sidekick that always shows up in an Eastwood film to save the day. “That’s kind of how I see me and the little guy, I’ve got his back, he has mine. Together we’ll slay every evil. I mean, we’ve already seen a few.”
YES THEY HAVE. He mentions that he has opened so many sympathy cards that he has paper cuts up and down his hands. But in true Chris fashion, he writes: “I guess grief is lots of invisible little cuts.”
SO WHAT ARE WE THINKING HERE?
When the holidays return every December, we pull things out of the darkness: boxes of ornaments dusty from an attic or basement; a list of people we want to call friends, but aren’t sure if the passage of time has changed that; and always memories–some that flash and shine and make us smile, others that might embarrass (when I cried my first Christmas married to my husband because there was no gift for me under the tree–Be forgiving, Beth, your father-in-law already has eleven children!” ) And of course others that might fill us with sorrow–my mother is gone now since 2013, and I’m living away from the familiarity of Chicago, from some family, many friends and the blaze of Christmas lights against trees and lawns covered with snow.
But we breathe and say THANK YOU and make new memories in new places and look into photo albums or admire a music box or an ornament that brings back those other years.
Chris finally writes: “Nothing’s perfect. Not this house. Not this family. Not this Christmas. Not without her, certainly. And not without our wickedly funny late son. So I guess we’re pretty much all newborns this season, our tears dripping like tinsel.
But those cuts on my hands? The paper cuts remind me of some greater gifts–family and amazing friends. And the wails of newborns? OUR HEARTACHE, OUR CHRISTMAS HYMN.”
See? I told you he could write!
FINAL COMMENT? You might spend some time thinking about winter–how the days are shorter, darker. How we lean toward light either those on trees or burning in a fireplace, or those in the eyes of the ones we love. Because life is always light and darkness–but as humans, and especially now, during this season, WE ARE DRAWN TO THE LIGHT.
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year–and have a warm Winter Solstice.
Photo Credit: Pinterest
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