It's incredible how restorative 2 hours with my husband can be. We've been really busy lately juggling 2 kids, 2 jobs (his is crazy) and only 1 car. We're managing it all but it's really cutting into our time just the two of us. And we are a couple who loves time alone. As much as we love our kids and we spend a lot of time with them, there is something so restorative about climbing back into that cocoon that is us.
Because we used to do youth ministry and we stayed in our town afterwards, we get to be involved in many of our "kids" lives. And they are reaching adulthood. Many are married and have kids from our earlier years and our latter year kids are just starting down these paths. I absolutely love teens and young adults. It's such a critical time in your life, when so many decisions are made that have a huge impact on your future. As I talk our kids through these choices, I can't help but be brought back to my choices. Tim and I have been together since I was 21 and he was 23. It's unbelievable to me. I was telling him in the car today that the only reason I married him (at 23) was because of him. I wasn't necessarily ready to get married. I was not looking for a husband when we met. I was celebrating my singleness and planning my new life as an adult in Dublin.
Sometimes settling down isn't about readiness. It's about that person. I met THAT person. My nana had an epic love story and she always said, "Don't marry someone you can live with; marry someone you can't live without." And my dad always said, "Begin your adulthood. Decide what you're about, what your values are and where you want to be. And as you go along your way, look to the right or the left. One of those people is probably your future spouse." Good advice, right? Tim was that person. He was the guy I couldn't cut loose. And how much fun I had with him in the middle of the day on a Friday while he was in between shifts, with Macy at school and Penny at the neighbor's house, just reminded me that I made the right choice. I got really lucky.
I recently read an article about there not being a "right person." It's about choosing what you can tolerate. There's some truth to that. There are many people I have loved and could have easily married and I think been happy with. Care-takers are like that - flexible, adaptive. But the fact that Tim and I keep coming back to the well of our relationship and it's still providing that life-giving water, that's a gift. And it's one you don't know if you're getting when you get married or not. There's no way to know and that's crazy unfair.
My brother is totally transient, almost allergic to normalcy. And my sister had kids really young and was the only stable force in her life for a long time. She's the responsible, strong one. I'm somewhere in the middle. Committed, responsible and always leaning into freedom. Sometimes being married doesn't feel like freedom, no matter who you married, especially when you're raising two young children and you're struggling with mental health. And yet somehow, in the middle of that commitment, Tim and I create that freedom in our safe cocoon. It's wild. It's the only way I think I could have done the traditional thing of getting married and having kids without losing that wandering spirit. I don't know how this crazy gift happened, but sometimes I just hold it in wonder.
Friday, June 10, 2016
Monday, June 6, 2016
Modesty Culture and Sexual Repression
I'm officially a theater parent now and it is awesome. We love, love, love performance and artistic expression of any kind. The thing is, I put Macy in a Christian theater program. And even though we are Christians, we are not currently attending church and if we were to attend church, it would be a really progressive church. So, I feel a little like an impostor, though for the most part, it's been great. One of the things that isn't great is that we're dabbling back into the world of to purity culture. I knew this would be an issue for me. I choose not to laugh at the offhand remarks about teens girls and "unders" which is the term for the tight clothes all the children wear under their costumes so they can change in front of each other. No mention of boys. As part of the costume committee, I witnessed girls being so self-conscious they wanted to add to their costumes because their dress (from the 1600's, mind you) showed a small square of skin in the front (no cleavage at all). It's hard to not feel angry, not at the children but at this culture.
As an adult, I've worked intentionally to shed any shaming around my body that I learned from modesty/purity culture. This was not easy! Many of my girl friends grew up in purity culture but I don't think they took it as hard as I did because I was such a serious kid. I was the teen in a one-piece and a t-shirt! I genuinely believed that if my body was too exposed, it would harm my guy friends ability to follow Jesus. It was my responsibility to protect them from temptation. I was not about to get in their way. And while that's sweet, how incredibly harmful. And now that I think about it, it was probably why I became such a care-taking adult. It was taught to me as a spiritual value.
Through our years in youth ministry, I was required to confront teen girls about their clothing. People would whisper to me their concerns and then I was expected to be the heavy. I tried to be cool while executing this duty (I've always been more of a "good cop" even as a mother), but it was awkward. It definitely exacerbates mean girl culture when women are tasked to judge each other's clothing, especially for spiritual reasons. It creates piety. It's also wildly subjective to try to enforce a dress code (girls with certain body types get targeted). I have so many big feelings about purity culture, about how it shames women for being beautiful, how it plays into rape culture by blaming the objects of lust for being lust-able rather than the ones doing the lusting, how it cripples boys into believing they're incapable of self-control and frankly, how it sexualizes children. I don't want any part of it and I don't want my 8 year old to be taught to be self-conscious about her perfect, little girl body. And yes, I don't intend to change my stance when she gets breasts.
Once we got out of ministry, I started giving myself to permission to express myself more with clothing. I've written about art classes I've taken and that has encouraged me to identify more as the artist I've hidden. I've also tried to explore my sexuality more (which is incredibly repressed) though I haven't written about that as much as it's so personal. I might have the courage to discuss that more in the future because I know I am one of thousands who are sexually repressed because of their conservative upbringing. It's really kind of a bummer, to be honest. We were told for so long to be as asexual as possible in hopes of gaining the admiration of a godly man. And then as soon as you make a lifetime commitment to each other, you're supposed to become the exact opposite of what you were taught. Alluring, sexually available, skilled --- fully empowered. How does this happen, exactly? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm trying to engage in more sex-positive language, read more books and articles about sexuality, rape culture, feminism, etc. It's been a slow unpacking but I think it's a worthy fight, to relinquish responsibility for others' thoughts, to take back your power and to feel sexually confident. Well looky here, I guess I wrote about it. I'd love to hear anyone else's experience with purity culture. Drop me a line if you want to be heard! Maybe we'll figure some of this out as a community.
As an adult, I've worked intentionally to shed any shaming around my body that I learned from modesty/purity culture. This was not easy! Many of my girl friends grew up in purity culture but I don't think they took it as hard as I did because I was such a serious kid. I was the teen in a one-piece and a t-shirt! I genuinely believed that if my body was too exposed, it would harm my guy friends ability to follow Jesus. It was my responsibility to protect them from temptation. I was not about to get in their way. And while that's sweet, how incredibly harmful. And now that I think about it, it was probably why I became such a care-taking adult. It was taught to me as a spiritual value.
Through our years in youth ministry, I was required to confront teen girls about their clothing. People would whisper to me their concerns and then I was expected to be the heavy. I tried to be cool while executing this duty (I've always been more of a "good cop" even as a mother), but it was awkward. It definitely exacerbates mean girl culture when women are tasked to judge each other's clothing, especially for spiritual reasons. It creates piety. It's also wildly subjective to try to enforce a dress code (girls with certain body types get targeted). I have so many big feelings about purity culture, about how it shames women for being beautiful, how it plays into rape culture by blaming the objects of lust for being lust-able rather than the ones doing the lusting, how it cripples boys into believing they're incapable of self-control and frankly, how it sexualizes children. I don't want any part of it and I don't want my 8 year old to be taught to be self-conscious about her perfect, little girl body. And yes, I don't intend to change my stance when she gets breasts.
Once we got out of ministry, I started giving myself to permission to express myself more with clothing. I've written about art classes I've taken and that has encouraged me to identify more as the artist I've hidden. I've also tried to explore my sexuality more (which is incredibly repressed) though I haven't written about that as much as it's so personal. I might have the courage to discuss that more in the future because I know I am one of thousands who are sexually repressed because of their conservative upbringing. It's really kind of a bummer, to be honest. We were told for so long to be as asexual as possible in hopes of gaining the admiration of a godly man. And then as soon as you make a lifetime commitment to each other, you're supposed to become the exact opposite of what you were taught. Alluring, sexually available, skilled --- fully empowered. How does this happen, exactly? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm trying to engage in more sex-positive language, read more books and articles about sexuality, rape culture, feminism, etc. It's been a slow unpacking but I think it's a worthy fight, to relinquish responsibility for others' thoughts, to take back your power and to feel sexually confident. Well looky here, I guess I wrote about it. I'd love to hear anyone else's experience with purity culture. Drop me a line if you want to be heard! Maybe we'll figure some of this out as a community.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Look Past the Words and Hear the Message
Huh, so it turns out, some people really hate cursing. Like, to the point that they will read something I've written, find it compelling and then not share it publicly because I used two curse words. I'm trying to walk my brain back to when I would feel so offended by two words that it would negate the other few hundred. It's such a tricky thing for me to understand. I'm more the type to write a disclaimer and then post whatever I find compelling. And yet, there are different words that I find offensive. If an article used racial slurs or anything derogatory towards women or people who identify as LGBTQ, I can't imagine a disclaimer would suffice.
I guess I'm wondering, how important is this sacred cow, this issue of two curse words? If they were used in throw away instances, I could see why it would feel unnecessary and just crass. But the most offensive word I used in this specific post, one of the juggernauts (the "f-word") was used in reference to deporting Muslims for their religion. The act of considering electing someone who finds this to be a good solution for to our immigration issues, refugee fears and terrorism threats is so appalling to me that sometimes big words come out. Isn't it better to drop f-bombs than to round up Muslims? I think so. No, I know so. I recognize that one of my hopeful audiences has a barrier to listening past cursing and yet I'm hoping to respectfully push back that barrier to get to the bigger issues at hand. I know that I can make good points without cursing. Yet, cursing is part of how I highlight the importance of something. Ugh.
It's a delicate thing to write publicly, trying to bridge the gap between where I started and where I am now while still staying true to myself. I don't like offending people. That is ingrained in me and is a part of why I was so suited to ministry (winky face). But there's this other part of me, this voice that grows louder and frankly, more offensive. It is this voice of advocacy, this woman within who says "I don't like hurting people, so much so that I will hurt people to protect the people who are hurting more." That's an uncomfortable place for me to be. To risk offending Christians with my passion for advocating for people who might be being hurt by Christians. Hmm...I think I found my answer. If my cursing offends you, I apologize for the offense. And yet, I do not regret the place my offensive words come from and I hope to God (literally, I do not throw that around) that you can look past them if they make you cringe in order to hear the purpose they fulfill. I think there is room for us to be uncomfortable. Join me there.
I guess I'm wondering, how important is this sacred cow, this issue of two curse words? If they were used in throw away instances, I could see why it would feel unnecessary and just crass. But the most offensive word I used in this specific post, one of the juggernauts (the "f-word") was used in reference to deporting Muslims for their religion. The act of considering electing someone who finds this to be a good solution for to our immigration issues, refugee fears and terrorism threats is so appalling to me that sometimes big words come out. Isn't it better to drop f-bombs than to round up Muslims? I think so. No, I know so. I recognize that one of my hopeful audiences has a barrier to listening past cursing and yet I'm hoping to respectfully push back that barrier to get to the bigger issues at hand. I know that I can make good points without cursing. Yet, cursing is part of how I highlight the importance of something. Ugh.
It's a delicate thing to write publicly, trying to bridge the gap between where I started and where I am now while still staying true to myself. I don't like offending people. That is ingrained in me and is a part of why I was so suited to ministry (winky face). But there's this other part of me, this voice that grows louder and frankly, more offensive. It is this voice of advocacy, this woman within who says "I don't like hurting people, so much so that I will hurt people to protect the people who are hurting more." That's an uncomfortable place for me to be. To risk offending Christians with my passion for advocating for people who might be being hurt by Christians. Hmm...I think I found my answer. If my cursing offends you, I apologize for the offense. And yet, I do not regret the place my offensive words come from and I hope to God (literally, I do not throw that around) that you can look past them if they make you cringe in order to hear the purpose they fulfill. I think there is room for us to be uncomfortable. Join me there.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
To The Mother of the Child Having a Public Tantrum...
...I see you. That moment of panic, when every nerve stands on edge. When every head in the room turns towards you to see what you're going to do. When that shrill tone pierces from your child's chest, I see you freeze. I know the sense of dread that washes over you. I've been you when raising a typical child, confidently waiting out the yelling and flailing knowing that my child was essentially being a "brat." How easy it was to cross my arms and wait it out. Because my child was just being a consumer, waiting something she could not have. My role was to stay firm and not give in. It's an easy lesson to teach, that tantrums don't give you what you want.
And now I'm you raising an emotionally delayed child, whose tantrum is a symptom of something more. Your child cannot hear you when that wire in her brain gets tripped no matter what you do or say. When your heart fills with compassion and fear and attempts again and again for your voice to be heard by your child who is spiraling into full-blown crisis. I see you floundering, trying to stay calm, trying to help her find calm. I see you unsure of how to reach your child. I see you hesitate. I see you feel ashamed that you cannot help your child in this moment, not as much as you want to.
I see your shoulders tense, your heart ache, your mind race. I see people react to your child, trying to appease her, touching her, addressing her directly - making it worse. I see them removing the trigger, escalating her fury.
I see the sheer interruption that your parenting moment brings to society around you. No one can hear each other or really ignore you, no matter how much space they wish to give you in that moment. I know that feeling of total lack of control of your life, your child, your day, your desire to stay in your location. None of that matters because you must physically remove your child from the situation. I see you abandon your cart, leave your older child hanging, your phone ringing unheard. I see you tearfully get to your car, completely exhausted for the day, whether it's evening or morning. You've been gone from the house for 20 minutes but it may as well have been forever.
And now I'm you raising an emotionally delayed child, whose tantrum is a symptom of something more. Your child cannot hear you when that wire in her brain gets tripped no matter what you do or say. When your heart fills with compassion and fear and attempts again and again for your voice to be heard by your child who is spiraling into full-blown crisis. I see you floundering, trying to stay calm, trying to help her find calm. I see you unsure of how to reach your child. I see you hesitate. I see you feel ashamed that you cannot help your child in this moment, not as much as you want to.
I see your shoulders tense, your heart ache, your mind race. I see people react to your child, trying to appease her, touching her, addressing her directly - making it worse. I see them removing the trigger, escalating her fury.
I see the sheer interruption that your parenting moment brings to society around you. No one can hear each other or really ignore you, no matter how much space they wish to give you in that moment. I know that feeling of total lack of control of your life, your child, your day, your desire to stay in your location. None of that matters because you must physically remove your child from the situation. I see you abandon your cart, leave your older child hanging, your phone ringing unheard. I see you tearfully get to your car, completely exhausted for the day, whether it's evening or morning. You've been gone from the house for 20 minutes but it may as well have been forever.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
When Christians Confront
Alrighty, it's been awhile since I spoke evangelical as a language, but I have had enough biblical training to know why Christians confront each other about their beliefs and behavior. We feel obligated to do it. We feel we belong to each other and maybe even fear that others' behavior may make us look bad. We feel entitled to share our alternate (read: better) belief and to require a behavior change or else a judgment will be made, oftentimes an eternal one. We fear for the salvation of our loved ones and would rather trample them on earth than miss them in heaven. I'm serious. I've seen people completely reject their children because of their sexual orientation "in order to save them." And lastly, I think we confront because we want to feel like we tried. Like, we don't actually expect a humble reversal of behavior (especially if our confrontation is tacky and condescending) but we want to feel like we made an effort, possibly even to maintain good feelings about ourselves.
Unfortunately, I used to issue these judgments for all of these reasons. It breaks my heart to acknowledge that truth. It can be so painful and damaging to be on the receiving end of bad Christian confrontation that I really wish I hadn't participated in it so often. Comes with the ministry baggage, sadly. I will say, anyone I can think of who I can apologize to for this behavior has come back with forgiveness and understanding. It's been affirmed that my methods may have been inconsiderate but my intentions were good. That is something. Sometimes intentions are not good and that makes this infinitely more dangerous behavior.
As I've gotten further away from the evangelical box, I've been more of a target for such confrontation. I've been fortunate for the most part. Ask anyone LGBTQ who was raised in a conservative Christian home and their stories will take you to your knees. At least they should. I know becoming more of a progressive Christian is in no way comparable to coming out experiences. But now that I'm on the other side of these confrontations more often, I have a few tips for anyone wanting to find a kinder way to do this.
1. If it can be avoided, avoid it. Meaning, please wield this sword as infrequently as possible. If this thing that bothers you about someone else's belief system is not something you consider a "salvation issue" don't even consider confronting them on it. The only exceptions to this is if this person is a very, very close friend or you work alongside each other in a church/ministry setting and it's creating a lot of conflict that needs to be addressed.
2. If you decide to confront, pray A LOT. Again, try to find a way around it. If there is no way around it, check your motives. What is your ideal outcome? How will your posturing (tone, approach, words) help you achieve your desired outcome? Humble yourself.
3. Confirm before God that YOU are the person who is best suited to confront this person. Is there someone better suited for this job? If it's not you, don't take it upon yourself to find the right person. God can take care of that himself if it's needed. I've been baffled by the lack of intimacy in relationships that are expected to bear intense confrontation. Oftentimes the most hurtful ones I've been a part of are with people who are in no way a part of my life currently and were never integral parts of my life even in the distant past. If you're concerned for someone's faith but are not CONFIDENT that you have that kind of rapport and intimacy with them, pray for someone more suited to come along. (They may have already come along, but you wouldn't know because you're not close enough to this person to be privy to that information).
4. Consider the possibility that you're wrong. Again, before confronting someone about their beliefs, consider that there may be space for disagreement in this area (not just in the church but in the world at large) or that they may have experiences or ideas you don't have that have influenced this conclusion. Is it possible that you need to consider their position? Have you ever truly considered their position?
5. Don't make assumptions. About anything. About their life, their motives, their feelings, their story. Unless you're living their story with them in an intimate relationship, know that you're walking into a situation you likely only see pieces of. Again, check your posture.
6. Assign positive intent. Without being condescending, assume that this person's beliefs and values are not intended for your harm. Assume that they aren't lost, that they may have gotten to this position deliberately, thoughtfully, dare I say, prayerfully.
7. Tread lightly or again, not at all. There's such a thing as religious trauma. If you didn't know that, log in a few Google searches to get an idea of the kind of damage unhealthy church confrontation has done to people's souls. We're confronting people about things that aren't critical and in the process, damaging them in sometimes irreparable ways. And for what? To prove a point? This should scare us all and cause us great or even permanent pause.
8. Again with posturing, assume that if you have the same background and they've changed, they already understand your position. Ask questions. Assume the position of interest and wanting to see how they got to this conclusion and see if they'd be willing to tell you (they may not be. It can be exhausting to feel like someone's liaison). Only do this if you mean it! But don't patronize someone with explaining ideology they were raised to hold. If anyone is encountering new ideas, it's probably you.
9. BE SURE that you're not doing this so you can "wash your hands of them." I have to say, I've picked up on this directed at me. It's really hurtful and selfish. Don't "witness" so you don't have to be held accountable for not saying anything. I believe we will be held accountable for all the things we say on behalf of Christ. BE SURE you know it's his posture or continue to humbly pray and offer peace. (And still do that anyway). If you're not sure, don't do it or don't drag him into it, at the very least.
10. Lastly, recognize that people just living their truth aren't looking for your feedback. It's not that they don't expect backlash if they're talking to an audience they know won't agree, but if you take people's posts hostage or seek them out to confront them while they go about their lives, you're being an ass.
Unfortunately, I used to issue these judgments for all of these reasons. It breaks my heart to acknowledge that truth. It can be so painful and damaging to be on the receiving end of bad Christian confrontation that I really wish I hadn't participated in it so often. Comes with the ministry baggage, sadly. I will say, anyone I can think of who I can apologize to for this behavior has come back with forgiveness and understanding. It's been affirmed that my methods may have been inconsiderate but my intentions were good. That is something. Sometimes intentions are not good and that makes this infinitely more dangerous behavior.
As I've gotten further away from the evangelical box, I've been more of a target for such confrontation. I've been fortunate for the most part. Ask anyone LGBTQ who was raised in a conservative Christian home and their stories will take you to your knees. At least they should. I know becoming more of a progressive Christian is in no way comparable to coming out experiences. But now that I'm on the other side of these confrontations more often, I have a few tips for anyone wanting to find a kinder way to do this.
1. If it can be avoided, avoid it. Meaning, please wield this sword as infrequently as possible. If this thing that bothers you about someone else's belief system is not something you consider a "salvation issue" don't even consider confronting them on it. The only exceptions to this is if this person is a very, very close friend or you work alongside each other in a church/ministry setting and it's creating a lot of conflict that needs to be addressed.
2. If you decide to confront, pray A LOT. Again, try to find a way around it. If there is no way around it, check your motives. What is your ideal outcome? How will your posturing (tone, approach, words) help you achieve your desired outcome? Humble yourself.
3. Confirm before God that YOU are the person who is best suited to confront this person. Is there someone better suited for this job? If it's not you, don't take it upon yourself to find the right person. God can take care of that himself if it's needed. I've been baffled by the lack of intimacy in relationships that are expected to bear intense confrontation. Oftentimes the most hurtful ones I've been a part of are with people who are in no way a part of my life currently and were never integral parts of my life even in the distant past. If you're concerned for someone's faith but are not CONFIDENT that you have that kind of rapport and intimacy with them, pray for someone more suited to come along. (They may have already come along, but you wouldn't know because you're not close enough to this person to be privy to that information).
4. Consider the possibility that you're wrong. Again, before confronting someone about their beliefs, consider that there may be space for disagreement in this area (not just in the church but in the world at large) or that they may have experiences or ideas you don't have that have influenced this conclusion. Is it possible that you need to consider their position? Have you ever truly considered their position?
5. Don't make assumptions. About anything. About their life, their motives, their feelings, their story. Unless you're living their story with them in an intimate relationship, know that you're walking into a situation you likely only see pieces of. Again, check your posture.
6. Assign positive intent. Without being condescending, assume that this person's beliefs and values are not intended for your harm. Assume that they aren't lost, that they may have gotten to this position deliberately, thoughtfully, dare I say, prayerfully.
7. Tread lightly or again, not at all. There's such a thing as religious trauma. If you didn't know that, log in a few Google searches to get an idea of the kind of damage unhealthy church confrontation has done to people's souls. We're confronting people about things that aren't critical and in the process, damaging them in sometimes irreparable ways. And for what? To prove a point? This should scare us all and cause us great or even permanent pause.
8. Again with posturing, assume that if you have the same background and they've changed, they already understand your position. Ask questions. Assume the position of interest and wanting to see how they got to this conclusion and see if they'd be willing to tell you (they may not be. It can be exhausting to feel like someone's liaison). Only do this if you mean it! But don't patronize someone with explaining ideology they were raised to hold. If anyone is encountering new ideas, it's probably you.
9. BE SURE that you're not doing this so you can "wash your hands of them." I have to say, I've picked up on this directed at me. It's really hurtful and selfish. Don't "witness" so you don't have to be held accountable for not saying anything. I believe we will be held accountable for all the things we say on behalf of Christ. BE SURE you know it's his posture or continue to humbly pray and offer peace. (And still do that anyway). If you're not sure, don't do it or don't drag him into it, at the very least.
10. Lastly, recognize that people just living their truth aren't looking for your feedback. It's not that they don't expect backlash if they're talking to an audience they know won't agree, but if you take people's posts hostage or seek them out to confront them while they go about their lives, you're being an ass.
Friday, May 13, 2016
What is My Fair Share?
I was recently told that my family is not "paying our fair share" in taxes. Sadly, this was said by someone who is really in our life and I had wrongfully assumed, understood that our circumstances of underemployment are hopefully temporary. That being said, after the shame voices faded (more than a week later), I'm ready to process the idea of what we all owe each other as a society and how we choose to "pay" it. And if we have a choice in how we give or if our contribution must be mandated.
I remember when I was in college and my ministry partner had to give the "Communion Talk" at church one Sunday. In the church of Christ tradition, we always pass the collection plate (which is viewable for all to see...never sat right with me) after we pass the crackers and juice. It was the first time I heard someone encourage people to give what they had to the community (and in this case, to God) no matter what that was. He encouraged all these college students who weren't particularly flush with cash to find other ways to give. Give your time. Give your talents. Give a listening ear. And I remember thinking, "the money guys are going to be annoyed" and "huh, that's kind of cool." Little did I know what a progressive I would become!
I was always taught that giving was financial. And obviously, that's the first way to give that comes to mind and should not be underestimated (I know you can't pay the light bill with warm fuzzies). And yet, how reductionistic is it to assume that finances are the ONLY way a family can contribute to their community (and by extension, their local and national government). Once again, my true response to what was said to me only came after I calmed down the shame voices.
This is what my true response told me.
1. My husband and I both work and both pay taxes.
2. We have our taxes returned to us and we receive a refund because I have a small business that allows me to write off expenses and because after that, we don't make a lot of money and have two dependents.
3. We don't make a lot of money on purpose. Not to leech off the government (again, hopefully we will outgrow the programs we're gratefully using) but for exactly the opposite reason. We value our community SO much that we willingly take non-profit work for poor pay in order to benefit our community. We just haven't found that "home" yet in this transition.
4. I have sold over half a million dollars worth of wellness products since I moved to this community. I've contributed to the local economy as an individual in a fairly big way and have helped an important industry grow. In turn, the building of the wellness industry has SAVED a ton of money in medical expenses. My source says for every $1 spent on wellness products, $28 are saved in medical expenses. Theoretically, I've single-handedly saved $14 million in health expenses in the last 11 years and I've done it at home with my children part-time.
5. I've chosen to be a stay-at-home parent. I believe that brings value to my children and to my community. I've been able to teach my children our values of tolerance and love at home in hopes that when I launch them into the community, they will make it better. *
I'm sure there's more. But the point is, we contribute. We matter. We've made a difference. We need to be careful how we judge someone's contribution to the community. We need to check our privilege if we've never been in their position. If we're reducing everyone's contribution to taxes paid, we've got a lot of corrupt corporations to thank for being good citizens. Let's start passing out gold stars to big pharma, big oil, Wall Street and Monsanto. Sure, these are the people poisoning our food with chemicals, sending jobs overseas, and not giving their employees livable wages but hey, the economy benefits! Thank you for your contribution.
What would happen if we expanded our view of what social contribution looks like? Yes, putting the money you can into the communal pot but also living with our hands outstretched to each other? Being willing to give our time, our energy, our resources to our neighbors on either side of us? What would it look like if the government didn't have to pry money out of our cold dead hands to help single mothers go to college and keep our roads paved and our fire stations functioning? I understand we don't trust our politicians. That is a huge and legitimate issue and I don't toss that aside easily. But, do we trust each other? Can we have enough integrity to take from the pot what is truly needed and know that there will be more if we need to come back rather than grabbing everything we can just in case? Scarcity is a real thing when you're poor so I don't mean that as a judgment. I actually mean that for those who lack compassion for the poor. By reducing our contribution to taxes, you're diminishing our value, silencing our voices and ultimately, missing out on the fullness of true community. In our obsession with money, we're actually short changing ourselves.
* I wanted to be careful with this one. While I find stay-at-home parenting worthwhile and the right choice for us, I know many women who contribute to their community and their families by doing important professional work as well as good parenting at home. This is by no means a judgement on them. I admire you.
I remember when I was in college and my ministry partner had to give the "Communion Talk" at church one Sunday. In the church of Christ tradition, we always pass the collection plate (which is viewable for all to see...never sat right with me) after we pass the crackers and juice. It was the first time I heard someone encourage people to give what they had to the community (and in this case, to God) no matter what that was. He encouraged all these college students who weren't particularly flush with cash to find other ways to give. Give your time. Give your talents. Give a listening ear. And I remember thinking, "the money guys are going to be annoyed" and "huh, that's kind of cool." Little did I know what a progressive I would become!
I was always taught that giving was financial. And obviously, that's the first way to give that comes to mind and should not be underestimated (I know you can't pay the light bill with warm fuzzies). And yet, how reductionistic is it to assume that finances are the ONLY way a family can contribute to their community (and by extension, their local and national government). Once again, my true response to what was said to me only came after I calmed down the shame voices.
This is what my true response told me.
1. My husband and I both work and both pay taxes.
2. We have our taxes returned to us and we receive a refund because I have a small business that allows me to write off expenses and because after that, we don't make a lot of money and have two dependents.
3. We don't make a lot of money on purpose. Not to leech off the government (again, hopefully we will outgrow the programs we're gratefully using) but for exactly the opposite reason. We value our community SO much that we willingly take non-profit work for poor pay in order to benefit our community. We just haven't found that "home" yet in this transition.
4. I have sold over half a million dollars worth of wellness products since I moved to this community. I've contributed to the local economy as an individual in a fairly big way and have helped an important industry grow. In turn, the building of the wellness industry has SAVED a ton of money in medical expenses. My source says for every $1 spent on wellness products, $28 are saved in medical expenses. Theoretically, I've single-handedly saved $14 million in health expenses in the last 11 years and I've done it at home with my children part-time.
5. I've chosen to be a stay-at-home parent. I believe that brings value to my children and to my community. I've been able to teach my children our values of tolerance and love at home in hopes that when I launch them into the community, they will make it better. *
I'm sure there's more. But the point is, we contribute. We matter. We've made a difference. We need to be careful how we judge someone's contribution to the community. We need to check our privilege if we've never been in their position. If we're reducing everyone's contribution to taxes paid, we've got a lot of corrupt corporations to thank for being good citizens. Let's start passing out gold stars to big pharma, big oil, Wall Street and Monsanto. Sure, these are the people poisoning our food with chemicals, sending jobs overseas, and not giving their employees livable wages but hey, the economy benefits! Thank you for your contribution.
What would happen if we expanded our view of what social contribution looks like? Yes, putting the money you can into the communal pot but also living with our hands outstretched to each other? Being willing to give our time, our energy, our resources to our neighbors on either side of us? What would it look like if the government didn't have to pry money out of our cold dead hands to help single mothers go to college and keep our roads paved and our fire stations functioning? I understand we don't trust our politicians. That is a huge and legitimate issue and I don't toss that aside easily. But, do we trust each other? Can we have enough integrity to take from the pot what is truly needed and know that there will be more if we need to come back rather than grabbing everything we can just in case? Scarcity is a real thing when you're poor so I don't mean that as a judgment. I actually mean that for those who lack compassion for the poor. By reducing our contribution to taxes, you're diminishing our value, silencing our voices and ultimately, missing out on the fullness of true community. In our obsession with money, we're actually short changing ourselves.
* I wanted to be careful with this one. While I find stay-at-home parenting worthwhile and the right choice for us, I know many women who contribute to their community and their families by doing important professional work as well as good parenting at home. This is by no means a judgement on them. I admire you.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Separation is Hard
I like to think of myself as a pretty chill parent. I let my kids lead for the most part. We still set boundaries with our children, as you should in any relationship, but I don't have a lot of actual "rules", more like rituals. Anyway, because of the whole one less car issue, I made the executive decision to have Macy ride the bus to school for the rest of the year. She's changing school next year (for exciting reasons I'm sure I'll talk about some other time!) and we are required to drive her there. So this is clearly a 5ish week change. But my darling daughter is me to a tee. She resists change. When I mentioned to her that it was a real possibility, she was upset. We were walking home from school and she essentially raced away and walked home without me. I figured she needed time to process her feelings and wasn't surprised. We had a bus incident (I'm sure it'll come up here eventually) when she was in kindergarten that I had in the back of my mind to revisit so she doesn't have issues with independence in this area and karma intervened. Here we are, taking the bus.
So we're confronting some past trauma for both of us. We're also making an unexpected change and not really by choice. We're cutting into the precious Macy/Mommy time we have each morning and both of us share Quality Time as our primary love language. And yet, once Daddy explained through the emotional haze that this was a necessary step for all of us (it's really the safest, best choice for the family with one vehicle right now) and that sometimes being in a family means doing things that we don't want to do. Personal sacrifice is part of community and that's an important lesson (one I'm still really wrestling with on the church level) to learn.
Once I realized that on top of feeling like there's too much change for her (new school next year and getting glasses) that Macy's primary concern was not having as much time with me, I determined that I would get up earlier and make her lunch the night before. Of course, we were ready way early and rather than read together, which I was fully expecting, Macy was ready to skip to the curb and wait for the bus for TWENTY minutes. That kid. This, she also gets from me. Once the change is determined, you face it with gusto. We chatted with the neighbor boys and got the skinny on where to sit (and apparently where NOT to sit. Bus politics have not changed, my friends) and I introduced her to the bus driver.
I came home feeling sad and relieved. This time is different. When you revisit something that was scary, the fears start talking and shame voices gain traction. Sadness or grief pay a visit. If you don't know the word for this type of experience, it's called "triggering." I'm mostly nostalgic that my little girl is growing up and I'm proud of myself for making a hard decision that's still the right one for the whole family. Sometimes my perfectionist brain thinks that what is best for the whole family might harm the individual (this is a theme for me from the trauma of our post-partum depression experience). And sometimes, that's true. But in this case, I believe this is also what's best for Macy. If we can still get her need for quality time met, she will gain confidence and independence through this that will help prepare her to change schools in the fall. I guess all of that is to say, it's okay that "normal" adjustments are hard for you. I know so many people who don't bat an eye at this type of change and probably think I'm silly for feeling all the feels. But I do. Perhaps because I have so many feelings, it has made me the right mom for the daughter who is just the same.
So we're confronting some past trauma for both of us. We're also making an unexpected change and not really by choice. We're cutting into the precious Macy/Mommy time we have each morning and both of us share Quality Time as our primary love language. And yet, once Daddy explained through the emotional haze that this was a necessary step for all of us (it's really the safest, best choice for the family with one vehicle right now) and that sometimes being in a family means doing things that we don't want to do. Personal sacrifice is part of community and that's an important lesson (one I'm still really wrestling with on the church level) to learn.
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| Waiting patiently for me to return after a potty break. 20 minutes, people! |
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| Lots of roadside hugs |
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