… They always told me I had one!!!
The Human Condition
Oy vey – Only Two Years Away!
12 years
It’s that time of the year!!
Today is my 48th birthday. So far, it’s a good day!
And being my usual pessimistic self, I’m sure it won’t stay that way.
You know those e-cards everyone posts on Facebook? There’s one I find particularly funny and way too true – “I try to like people, but then idiots happen!”.
Why is that??
I wake up everyday but especially on a day like my birthday and really am happy that God gave me another day. I know the big 5-0 is right around the corner. Another day to appreciate things, people, circumstances, whatever. I pat my puppy on the top of his head, I think about breakfast and what there is in the house and I stop to think about my schedule for the day. Nothing ever stays on schedule but it’s worth the ol’ college try.
Then the day happens.
The news always provides something you have to shake your head at. Sometimes it’s an unexpected phone call. Being a small business owner, a text from a staff member can do it. Being responsible for my mother at this point in her life is always a challenge.
But taking stock of things, today, on my birthday, I have to be grateful for many things. Although I make many a joke about being placed in a reed basket and floated down the Nile, I am grateful my birth mother saw it in her heart to give me a chance for a better life. I am grateful for my parents – the only one’s I have ever known. I am grateful for my cousins who have always made things interesting. I am thankful for my friends, old and new, not so new and those who are no longer part of my life. I am even thankful for the people who have made my life challenging. All these people along with the experiences I have had, have come together to make me the person I am today – slightly cracked, a wealth of useless information, a business owner, someone you can ask for anything, supporter of many (whether they realize it or not), critical of some but one who knows when they are out of their league.
Just for the record, I had one of the best birthday days I have ever had. I spent the day enjoying everything as opposed to waiting for the next shoe to drop. The day was capped off with a wonderful martini, a perfectly cooked steak and wonderful company at a great Manhattan restaurant. Enjoyed the day thoroughly, however, I am sure realty will return tomorrow as always.
But maybe, just maybe, I can take the lesson of my birthday day through to the rest of the year – this year, I’ll be thinking positively. Let’s see where it takes me!
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“I’m gonna kick your &#*!!!”
12 years
Gotta stop this bullying!
Bullying.
I was bullied as a child.
I was bullied as a teenager and a young adult.
I even think I have been bullied as an older adult.
And now, as I remember the words of a woman I met when she was in her late seventies and lived to be 99, “At my age, I can say whatever I want”.
At least on this topic, I think it is realistic to say, I can safely speak my mind about my experiences.
I went to a Catholic elementary school in a working class neighborhood. I was a scrawny kid who wore glasses, got good grades, and had parents who volunteered a lot of time to that school and church. I was called “teacher’s pet” for years and spent many a school day firing how I was going to make it home without getting my butt kicked because someone in my class thought I got them in trouble with the teacher, wouldn’t let them cheat from me on a test, or because I put my lunchbox down too close to theirs. The boys in my class were hurtful and the girls were mean. Some of the “cool” girls tried over the years to be protecting or at least not joining in on the bullying but that usually gave way to the, being threatened. So their efforts ceased and they stood by while the taunting went on. I got beat up on the way home several times and cried because I couldn’t imagine how to tell my parents that my glasses were broken again. My 8th grade teacher kept me after school on Halloween to talk about being Editor of our yearbook. But because “The Gang” of boys was waiting outside the school to throw eggs and more, she drove me home from school to keep me safe. That Josephite nun always showed me such kindness and always pushed me to do the best I could. But her kindness in driving me home that day only resulted in more taunting throughout my last year in that school.
I played softball in grammar school and the girls only wanted the “star” player to pitch. Once were losing so badly that the coach pulled the “star” pitcher and put me in to pitch. Loosing by almost 10 runs, I pitched my best and struck out one or two batters. But if the ball made contact with the bat, I was done for. My “teammates” would let the ball roll through their legs, drop a fly ball or let the runners advance without even trying to play fairly. The coach reprimanded the entire team but it did no good. She pulled me and put the “star” back in. We lost anyway. The parents in attendance said nothing to any of their daughters during or after the game – that was that.
The bullying continued when I went to the local high school. The tough kids from another section of our neighborhood liked to intimidate people in the hallways and every day was another challenge to stay out of their way. I was a “nerd” – honors classes, music lessons, church volunteer – none of it was “cool” back then.
But then a class called “Leadership” was offered. I jumped at the chance to work on all extracurricular events the Leadership class was responsible for. With senior year came empowerment, as we all were the class leaders. The concept of being bullied was gone as we were the ones accepted and the people who got things done. College years and never a thought of being bullied.
Just when you think its over…
I began teaching at a Catholic elementary school. Faculty meeting on the first day – all new teachers were told, “Ladies, make sure that even if you have a ring on your finger, you are saying ‘No'”. Bullying takes on a new name – intimidation. With a morals clause written into out contracts, I can’t really call this bullying, but you knew she meant business. I found put on the successive months that who I socialized with, who I befriended and what I did after work was up for these intimidation tactics by the principal. I left that school that same year.
The principal at the next school was an old family friend who was a ton of fun but took bullying right back to when I was in elementary school – which was where I knew him. I spent more time being reprimanded in his office as a teacher than I ever was when I was in elementary school. “Don’t teach this”, “Don’t call the parents by the last names”, “You MUST have a Halloween Party for your class” (fist fights among students aside), and more. My pay was docked when I took a personal day to attend the funeral of a close mutual family friend. Day-to-day it all was too much – too much to list here. One day when you have a few days, I’ll tell you. I left that job after four years.
I opened a business with my best friend. The bullying continued with vendors who felt like they were doing me a favor to do the work and have me pay them; some customers who felt that however insane their request, my partner and I were just to “do it”; some accounts that would change the rules on the jobs we were doing right as we were finishing up. I have teenage staff members tell me that “I had a lot to learn” and I have had business associates repeatedly tell me that the work I do is passable at best – they can always find someone to do a better job for less money.
In addition to the bullying, I have been profiled as “prejudiced” because I am white; I have been spoken slowly to because I look more Hispanic than Italian in a mostly Italian area and second guessed when I say that I am one of the business’ owners.
Bullying in the NFL? A good thing he walked away. A bad thing as he may have given up the career he loves.
Bullying in schools? Try to tell a teenager that “It gets better” – it’s so hard when your world seems to be crashing in around you.
Gay bashing? Racial profiling? Sexual harassment? Why should anyone have to compromise him or herself for the stupidity of another?
It may not necessarily get better – but it does get different; sometimes, it even becomes empowering. One day you just have to realize that all that matters is what YOU make matter – small people, small minds. Realize your potential – screw everyone else. Carve out your own space in this world and have confidence in the one person who will never leave you …..
YOU!
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Chosen to Belong – Questioning Who’s Who in a Family
12 years
The title of this post took quite a number of revisions. “The Strangest Strangers: Becoming Part of a Family”, “Belonging and not…”, “You’re Not One of Us”.
Truth be told, I have been mind-boggled by things I have heard over the last thirty something years of my life. If only people could understand how their words could cut so deep that forgetting is not possible, forgiving may never occur.
Chosen to Belong
I was adopted through Catholic Charities from Angel Guardian Home in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York in May of 1966. This was a time before Roe v. Wade, open adoptions and all the other options available to people who wanted children but could not have them on their own. For background, I was the only offspring of a union between my eighteen year-old birth mother and my thirty-six year old birth father. I like to make up a soap opera like story of how that union occurred, but that is fodder for another post sometime in the future. The nuns at the Angel Guardian Home put me into the arms of the only woman I know as my mother on April 26, 1966 – “the happiest day of my life” as she often tells me. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and friends welcomed me home that day – the family that embraced me, loved me, shared in my triumphs and consoled me in my losses.
A piece of paper and a judge’s swoop of the pen and I belonged to my parents. The three of us made a cute little family; my extended family always a strong and active presence in my life. We lived in a two-family house – my parents and I upstairs and my mother’s parents downstairs. We saw each other everyday – always a kiss, a hug and a playful tap from “Pop”.
My grandmother passed away one night in 1973, in the house. My other grandmother was babysitting me upstairs as my mother was visiting my father who was in the hospital. “My wife, she no move” was the cry from Pop and with that, one member of our household was gone. Her suffering from Alzheimer’s was over. Pop would live many more years alone but filled his time sitting outside, talking to anyone who would pass, reading his Italian newspaper and listening to the Italian radio station. There had been arguing between my mom and her brother and sister over their parents and the long-term care they both needed. But what needed to be done was done as far as my grandparents were concerned and who was right and who was wrong is now irrelevant.
Pulling the Rug Out
But one question posed to my grandfather by his son threw my very existence in my family into a tailspin. My mother, middle child stayed home to care for her aging parents. Her sister and brother left most of the decisions and day-to-day care to my mom because of her proximity. As my grandfather reasoned, each of his children had their homes; my mother did not so he would leave his house to my mother. My uncle was told this by his father and reacted strongly; one question – “So Jane gets the house?”
His own daughters were outraged and told him so right as the words came out of his mouth. My mothers was stunned and as we, the kids, were told to get out of the room, someone said, “Because she’s not blood?”. I know who said it and would rather leave it as ambiguous as stated. Regardless, that question/statement had devastating consequences to an already fragile psyche.
I have had friends who ask me about being adopted. I tell them being adopted at such a young age, I know only my parents and my family – there is no feeling associated with “being adopted” for me. But there is an increasing sensitivity I feel towards comments being made toward individuals and their “belonging” in their families. To say that a person who has spent years, decades even a lifetime being “part” of a family is “not really part of the family” or even calling them “a stranger” is completely not in the realm of understanding.
There comes a point in time when you really have to wonder about the people you surround yourself with. Although they may seem quite cordial and sincere on the outside, sometimes there are underlying issues that confuse event the most seasoned adult. I have heard that young children entering into a new family with their divorced and remarrying parent are “not really so-and-so’s kid”. Children adopted at younger ages than I was are “not really their kid”. Family friends who have been part of people’s lives for years, even decades are told “they are not family”. I have even heard some call their “married-in” relatives “nothing more than strangers”.
Are we not all strangers to each other in the beginning of any relationship?
Are you Serious? Then Get This Straight
A newborn is a stranger to their mother – the woman who carried that baby for nine months. You are not in their minds, however impressionable they may be – you cannot know what is going on in there. A woman meeting a new friend. A man meeting a girl he would one day would like to make his wife. Someone you pass on the street. The person on line in the grocery store. Yet these encounters with strangers lead to some of the most intense and lasting relationships we will ever have in our lives. A child and parent, best friends, a married couple, a neighbor, an acquaintance. At whatever level, these people enter our lives and it is a choice we must make as to the depth that relationship takes.
I know many children whose parents remarried after many years and created blended families. Father is father to each one of the children in that family, mother is mother. Some of those semi-adopted children (some are indeed adopted by their step-parent, others are not) actually become more of the family oriented member of the family, treasuring the relationships he or she was given a second chance at. Adoption makes families where there were none. There are plenty of people we all know that are part of a family by birth-rite not by anything greater than that. That “natural born” status should never give anyone the power to diminish another’s standing in their’s or anyone else’s family. I dare someone to state that an infant would know any difference in belonging, be he or she adopted or birthed into the family they wind up in. Whether your husband-wife, wife-wife, or husband-husband relationship has children as part of it or not is unimportant – that “significant other” is just that “SIGNIFICANT” to that person; relevant, significant, meaningful, thought of, their one and only.
And everyone should really be on that same page – whether it is a step-child, a half-sister or brother, a friend, an integral part of a family for decades, your life partner – those that surround you should be respectful of you and that person and the relationship you feel is important.
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Richard Nixon, Pete Rose and NYC’s Dumbest Election Ever!
12 years
Crook? Gambler? Joke?
I have been shaking my head for a week or so now. I cannot understand how certain public figures seem to think that whatever it is that they do wrong, a society of amnesia victims will vote them, watch them and continue to promote them, regardless.
In my recollection, the title of this article probably refers to the “famous firsts” with major scandals – or rather, the “firsts” to be caught. We are embroiled in perhaps the dumbest election in New York City’s history – perhaps even the country’s history. Marion Barry, conviction and reelections aside (you D.C.’ers know that one all too well), this election season gives us a “middle aged, perpetually horny” candidate for mayor and a confessed client of the world’s oldest profession, running for City Comptroller.
One really has to think about what is going on here.
I was all of about 6 or 7 years old when then President Richard Nixon first denied his involvement, then resigned the office of President over something that, in today’s world almost seems inconsequential; a break-in to Democratic headquarters – all to win an election. The Watergate hearings featured H.R. Haldeman and John Erlichman and a lot of intrigue. I also remember similar hearings when certain other President’s men were deep into the thick of things with “Iran-Contra” and illegal arms deals. Well we all know how that saga played out and for those of us who lived through the September 11th attacks, the actions of those men led us down a path, changing the world forevermore.
One could not imagine living through a second possible impeachment of a United States President but “deny, deny, deny” didn’t seem to get Clinton off the hook either. His supportive wife even caught hell for “standing by her man” – it really is up to her so we should all keep our opinions to ourselves, now shouldn’t we? If Huma Abedin wants to be the new Hillary, it is her choice, whether you like it or not. She has to sleep with him as they say – but Anthony Weiner needs to admit that be he an ordinary citizen, like the rest of us, he, his family and his career would be toast!
Bringing me to more men of position and power – Major League Baseball wants to ban certain players involved in the Biogenesis Drug scandal. Great! Players like Rodriguez and Braun should be banned, season-long or lifetime. Players like McGwire, Sosa, Bonds and Clemens broke records and re-wrote baseball history. An abuse of power and record-breaking play should also be called into question with these players. No asteriks here – they should be stripped of records and banned for life also. Ruth, Gerhig, and Maris DID NOT do what these modern day players did. Pete Rose bet on games – a team sport, difficult for one person to throw, but possible. But in the larger scheme of things? Poor judgement and gambling is not the same as steroid use and the toll it takes on a human body, not to mention the tarnishing of long standing records. .
Spitzer? Need you ask?
And yet, all of these men can’t seem to understand the criticism. “It was in the past; I’m sorry and I’ve changed” is the tag line for this year’s candidates. I guess everyone can change – I don’t believe that a leopard can’t change its spots – I do believe that people can atone and turn their lives around. Living a reasonably normal existence in society as a relatively non-publicized individual is well within the realm of possibility for anyone. To blatantly flaunt your political or famous persona with an “Oh gee, I really am sorry” attitude while you seek to recover the powerful lifestyle you had, is a hard pill to swallow.
The dumbest election ever? Maybe. Do you think maybe its not about this being the dumbest election with candidates who have no right on a moral ground to run, but rather those very candidates who are looking at their constituents thinking, “They’re dumb – they won’t remember”.
Let’s see what happens in November…..
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Marriage Equality, The Catholic Church and Scandal
12 years
Here we go again….
Let me get a few things straight before we get started. I am now a lapsed Catholic – I believe everything I was taught during eight years of Catholic school – my parents both volunteered most of their time to our parish church and school, a trait they not only passed on to me but enjoyed my involvement with the church in the various roles I took. I was an altar server as a teenager (the first girl in my parish to do so), a lector, CCD teacher, Teen Club member, then leader, a Eucharistic Minister, Folk Group leader, softball and swimming coach, volunteer school aide and later, was a teacher in two different Diocesean elementary schools.
I have been “on the inside” since I was a child; my parents volunteered and brought many stories home of their dealings with the clergy and other volunteers – as a curious child, I always loved to “accidentally overhear”. I have been included with adults and their conversations when I was younger as the only kid in the room most times – “You’re smart – you understand” is what I often heard. Dinners over the years with clergy members, from nuns and priests, to pastors and Diocesean big wigs – I have had the honor to know many Bishops in later years as well as a great number of priests, sharing many conversations and a few glasses of wine with some.
All that being said, I can say to you, I am a Catholic. I believe in my faith, my love for the “Hippie Jesus”, as I like to call him, that I was introduced to as a kid – the 70’s showed us a handsome man with long hair, in a robe and sandals, loving everyone, forgiving everyone – shunning no one but the hypocrites at the Temple. I believe we are here for a reason, to do all the good we can, love one another, celebrate in the joys of a heavenly paradise when we leave this earth, surrounded by the ones we love. Based on that, I want to believe in the best in people, love conquering all, and in the end, goodness in what people do, think and say.
And as I said, here we go again….
I read an article in the Diocesean newspaper recently that began with the sentence “the June 26th decision by the Supreme Court was a tragic day for the Church and the world”. On that day, the United States Supreme Court handed down two decisions regarding marriage equality. The Defense of Marriage Act was dead, California’s Prop 8 was declared null as the people who brought suit did not have the right to do so. Finally, the United States government, the Federal level would be acknowledging same-sex marriages and all the Federal laws and statutes afforded heterosexual couples since this country was founded would be equally afforded to homosexual couples.
This decision was a landmark in the history of America – and one that the Catholic church calls “tragic”. The article seemed to be a repetitive rant stating the Church’s belief that the “truth about marriage” was that it is “one man, one woman, for life”. That is their view, steadfast and pure. But it causes me to ask one question, speaking of steadfast and pure (emphasis on pure) – why has the Catholic Church not been as vocal, passionate and condemning of their own scandal involving sex?
Today, on a New York City radio station, I heard a story of a Catholic priest,”defrocked” because of allegations, later proof of child molestation, who had lost his home because of Superstorm Sandy. As a result of him having “nowhere else to go”, a parish in a neighboring city had taken him in and allowed him to live in the parish rectory. Um, anyone see a problem here?
One of the last years I taught, the faculty was informed of a new Music Director the parish had hired – he would also be running the children’s choir. I distinctly remember another teacher and I both raised our heads up when we heard the man’s name – he had been a parish priest in my home parish where this other faculty member had also taught. We raised our heads because this priest had been in the parish leading the altar boy, sports, teen and music programs. He was there for many years and then suddenly, gone. No explanation – just gone. Now he was the new music director in the school where I was teaching. The other faculty member and I were called into the principal’s office right after the meeting – we were sat down and told that under no circumstances were we to say we knew this new music director. Much younger, more naive, we questioned once and were told we would be “let go” if anything came out about where he was from. Very strange, we both thought, but as the Church’s scandal issues had not been brought forth at that time and because we couldn’t imagine what would have elicited this preemptive reprimand, and valuing our jobs, we left well enough alone. Years later, that priest/music director’s name was in the Daily News as a priest who had been transferred from parish to parish because of child molestation accusation and charges. We were in disbelief.
But this is a M.O. the Catholic Church has used for years, time and time again, in many different parishes all over the world. It is inexcusable, deviant behavior on the part of people entrusted to lead believers, shaping their spiritual beings over lifetimes. It is an abuse of position, power and a deception, the scale of which can only be rivaled in suspense thrillers. Yet the Church not only continues to deny their actions, they vehemently chastise others. “Do as I say, not as I do”. How can even one parish priest, a pastor in charge of their parish make such a grievous decision to take in an accused/convicted child molester? Or should we look at this as “Hippie Jesus” would have – forgiveness, compassion, understanding, rehabilitation of a fallen man? Taking it one step further, if we choose to look at the actions of this pastor as compassionate, should we not, as the whole Church look at “marriage equality” with the same compassion? After all, how is it that a Church, with “Hippie Jesus” as its “front man”, if you will, can’t be all about love? That damn four letter word that has been getting men and women in trouble since Adam and Eve – LOVE!
Compassion for those who hide who they are for fear of familial shunning, societal scorn and religious ridicule – when will the Church recognize the fact that many men have grown up, victims of the Church’s scandalous behavior and have floundered as adults, some even choosing suicide as an option to relieve their pain? When will the Church who professes compassion, concern and love realize that many people in the LGBT community want to be good Catholics but have nowhere to turn within the Church only to leave an institution they grew up in and for some, choosing to end their own lives because the pain and shunning is too great? More and more lapsed Catholics lead to dwindling church attendance, less proselytizing on behalf of an ancient order and the contradiction just seems to create a wider and deeper chasm between the believers that are left.
Perhaps it is the word LOVE we should really invest our attention to – “walk a mile in another man’s shoes” – empathy for others brings about the highest level of love regardless of religious, political, economic, or lifestyle standing.
When push comes to shove, where do you stand on the “Empathy Scale”? Think about your faults and what criticism and shunning you may face as a result of your beliefs – think about being the minority when it comes to that position. Perhaps then, you can truly understand what being human is all about.
