See you guys later!!

I enjoyed the presentation on older adults!  I was having lunch with my mother in law today and some of the things that you guys said during the presentation really stuck with me.  My mother in law has Alzheimer's so sometimes finding something to talk about is tricky.  Current events are out and sometimes I get tired of talking about her cat.  So, today as we sat there on the verge of another awkwardly quiet lunch, I remembered what you said about how they have stories to tell about the lives they have led.   I asked Diane about her senior year of high school, she remembers those years so freshly as if they only happened last yer, and she told me so many stories.  It was a lovely lunch and I'm so happy that your presentation reminded me to be patient with her.  Thank you.

Our non-traditional presentation.  We had fun putting that together, but we also learned a lot about ourselves and each other.  We sat in a room and interview each other and found the themes each other's stories.  I learned so much about each and everyone of my team mates.  I love you guys.
I also was able to reveal some things about myself that I've always been ashamed of.  Boy, that was hard, but you guys accepted me and told me there was nothing to be ashamed of.  You guys are the greatest. :)

I have such mixed emotions today.  I am truly happy to be basically through with this semester.  Yet, I have learned so much this semester, about the world, about my classmates, and about myself.  This class has really stretched me out of my comfort zone and sometimes it was very painful.  But, I do feel more educated on the many different subjects that we touched this semester.  All those damn isms.  They'll stay with me.  I can not unlearn that which I have learned.  Parts of me want to remain oblivious, it's easier that way.  But, mostly I'm happy that I can speak intelligently on issues which have always meant something to me, but that I didn't quite have the vocabulary to speak with confidence.

Here are a couple of things I've come across this week that I found interesting.
The first is a quiz to tell you if you live in a bubble.  It asks all sorts of questions about your childhood, your TV watching, your neighbors, etc.  It will tell you how in touch or out of touch you are with the middle class or the poor.  http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/2012/03/white-educated-and-wealthy-congratulations-you-live-in-a-bubble.html

The other is a survey about your slavery footprint.  It will tell you about your purchasing habits and tell you how much slave labor you as a consumer, use.   Mine # was 45.  What's yours?
http://slaveryfootprint.org/my-footprint#results

Prof. G.  I have enjoyed your teaching style, and while at first a little hesitant about the learning record and the blog, I have grown to appreciate it for what how it has enabled me to think and learn a little differently.  I have never been a fan of reading to memorize and to test and to forget.  I have always felt that this was a major waste of my time.  So, not being examined on nitpicky facts and figures has been a refreshing way to learn.  Instead of some useless knowledge floating around in bits and pieces in my head, I now have a critical way of thinking and of viewing the world.  Thank you.  I wish you much success in your career and in your life and I hope to see you again soon.

Have a great summer everyone!  I will see you guys in the fall.  :)

Presentations!!

I've been really impressed with the presentations so far.  You guys have done some awesome work!

AWA- When I first saw your posts show up on facebook, I was thinking, what's this all about?  Now that I've seen your presentation, it all makes sense!  It can help tie all the others together- and I think that's great!  It can also keep us all connected once we graduate and start our careers.  :) 

Executive Orders- you guys were so resilient!  You kept on going even when you hit a wall.  Good job guys! And thank you for keeping us up on what's going on with Planned Parenthood.  

Project Homelessness- this one was also great.   I did some of my volunteer hours at the ARCH and I was very hesitant at first.  I thought, man, I'm just putting myself out there- something could happen to me.  But you know, once I started talking to people, they really were just people like me.  They had come on hard times, some had mental illness, but some were just people who had experienced some bad fortune and once you're homeless, it's so hard to get back on your feet.  Very well done, guys! 

Educational Disparities- This one really hit home with me.  I came from a very poor school in Fort Worth.  I remember being in middle school and being a cheerleader- we couldn't afford uniforms or even matching tshirts and the school couldn't or wouldn't provide us with anything.  We went to a convention and every other school had fancy uniforms and we were all in jeans.  I remember feeling embarrassed and ashamed.  We also didn't have air conditioning in the high school.  That was difficult, trying to pay attention in class when it's 95 degrees outside. :) I did have some wonderful teachers, though.  Teachers who really cared about me and who were very encouraging.

I really enjoyed the photo montage with the differences in the neighborhoods surrounding the schools.  

So, here we are- one week left!  This semester has been one of the most difficult for me personally.  Lots of difficult subject matter. One more week!!   :)   

Ageism/Adultism cont'd

This morning I'm in Fort Worth, where I grew up.  I'm here because it's my father's 70th birthday and we're going to his house this afternoon to celebrate.  How does this relate to ageism?
Well, as you all know, I'm a little older than the average student.  I'm married, I have a teenage kid, I own a house...  blah blah blah..  But nothing makes me feel more like a little kid than spending the day with my step-mother. Ha!  She can make you feel 12 years old!   :)  So, we'll be in her house today- so we have to follow her rules!  Happy Birthday Dad!

Speaking of rules...
I've been thinking about the conversation we were having in class about privacy and autonomy of kids.  I lived with my mother until I was 15.  While with my mother, there were no rules, or if there were rules, she did not enforce them.  So, I didn't really have a curfew, I don't remember having chores, I basically did what I wanted.  It's a blessing that something crazy didn't happen to me... I had too much freedom.  Way too much.
So, I moved in with my Dad and above mentioned step-mother, Judy when I was 15.  Drastic difference.  They had a small house, out in the country with the nearest neighbor about a mile away.  I was given Judy's studio (she's an artist) to live in.  I was not allowed to put anything on the walls, not a calendar, not a poster, not even a picture.  I was to have a shower every night by 7 pm. I was to be in my bedroom with the door closed by 7:30- every night.  I was allowed to use the telephone, but only for 15 minutes a night.  It was such a drastic change.  I moved out the summer before my senior year of high school and I moved in with my older sister who was a college student.  Ahh...  freedom...

So, as a parent, I try to find a middle ground.  I remember what it was like having no say so.  I respect Sam's privacy- and will do so unless he gives me reason not to (like I think he's suicidal or if I think he might be using drugs).  I try not to say no too quickly when he wants to go do something.   I work hard to really listen to what he's telling me (even if it's about zombies or Rage Comics, or troll face jokes).

I probably ask him about girls too much.  I should respect his privacy more on that. He's a good kid and I trust him.  I don't know what kind of relationship can survive without trust.  He has rules and chores and curfews.  And I want to know where he is when he isn't at home, who he's hanging out with.  But I trust that he is behaving, for the most part any way.

Getting Older..
My husband told me the other day that I was too old to get a tattoo.   :(  I assured him that I wasn't asking his permission, just his opinion (yea, he's in the doghouse).  Oh well. I do struggle with getting older.   I've become very diligent about sunscreen and moisturizers and getting enough sleep.  But, with age comes wisdom, or so they say.    :)
Have a great week everyone!

Ageism Adultism and Older Adults

Ageism and Adultism,

To be honest, when I first started reading about adultism and all the things that children don't get to do, I thought, of course they don't get to do those things, they're children!  But then I started thinking about being a kid and how I was treated that I thought was unfair.  I remember that my father raised us as "children should be seen and not heard" or that our opinion wasn't worth much because we were just kids.  I think about how I sometimes feel that way about Sam.  I do value his opinion, but sometimes I think he doesn't know enough about a situation to have a valid opinion.  He gets to make some decisions regarding his room, and his personal space and his clothes, but I feel that he still needs my input on so many things.  Like food- he would eat nothing but junk food/processed food all day long if I let him.  When we're at a restaurant that gives him a choice of 2 sides he would choose fries and mashed potatoes every time if I let them.  So, he can chose the sides, but one of them has to be a green- and not fried. So, I do try to control somethings, but I try to let him have a choice in others.  It's difficult but I do think giving him choices and giving him responsibility.  I could certainly do better.  I do value his opinion, and I will certainly try to remember to let him know that I value it.

Ageism-
I'm a non traditional student.  Mostly I don't think that this affects me negatively, but I guess in some ways it does.  I'm older than most of my cohorts but I don't think that anyone treats me any differently.  I think that my thoughts and my ideas are respected and that my experience gives me a different view on things, but that is  respected as well.
I love working with my younger classmates!  I find their energy and their enthusiasm motivating and I'm happy to have so many smart, responsible young adults in my classes.
I recently overheard another non traditional student (not in this class) questioning a couple of 18 year old freshman about what they did with their free time.  She told them that she worked 50 hours a week while taking 12 hours and that she couldn't possibly imagine what they did when they weren't in school.  I found her questions to be insulting.  I said, they're out being young and having fun and making friends and learning about who they are.  They're discovering what's important and what's not important.  You can't assume that because they don't have a full time job that what they're doing isn't important.   I found her questions to be demeaning like they were just wasting their lives when they are full time students! Maybe she was just envious of their free time.  I don't know.

Older adults
While reading about how different cultures treat their older adults I began to think about my grandparents and how they are treated.  My grandfather is 90 and my grandmother is 85.  They still live in the same house where they raised their 8 children.  They want to remain as independent as they can.  My grandmother still does all of their cooking and laundry and cleaning.  She uses a old fashioned washing machine that you have to manually wring the water out of the clothes and she still hangs them all on the line in the backyard.  Her kids have offered to buy her a traditional washer and dryer but she refuses and they respect that.  They have offered to have my grandparents live in their homes, but they want to remain independent- and my aunts and uncles and father respect that.  My grandparents' opinions are still respected and they still have control over their lives.  I'm so lucky to have them.  I can't imagine why anyone would mistreat their parents or their grandparents.  It makes me really sad when I think about all the older adults who raised their kids and are now living in a nursing home with no visitors or no companionship.

That's all for this week.

Abelism

My first husband, Jeff, was disabled.  I don't tell many people that, and I don't know why.  Maybe because it doesn't really matter, maybe because it wasn't the only thing that defined him, maybe because I was a little embarrassed, I don't know.

He was born with a rare form of spinal muscular atrophy called Kugelberg Welanders Disease.  His mom noticed that something was different with him from the time he was about a year old.  The things that were difficult for him to do are things that you and I take for granted everyday.  He had trouble walking, getting up from a chair, getting up from the floor, and he couldn't run.  Going upstairs was exhausting for him and took much longer for him that for you or me.

Reading the chapters in our textbook this week has brought him into my thoughts more than usual.  He was the father of my son, Sam.  When I got pregnant with Sam, I panicked.  I didn't know a whole lot about this disease, Jeff never wanted to really talk about it, so everything I learned about it was from the internet. I made an appointment with the neurologist that had last treated Jeff to ask about what I might expect with Sam.  He assured me that Sam would not be affected because the disease was an X-linked gene, which means that it would only be carried by the mother ( I think this is what he told me- it's been awhile).  But of course, I still worried.

Jeff suffered through much humiliation as a child.   He was teased, bullied, beat up, pushed down, and  taunted about the things he couldn't do.  I have tears in my eyes thinking about it.  He also suffered as an adult.  He was constantly afraid that his boss would find out that he was unable to do everything he "should" be able to do.   He hid his disease from everyone as best that he could.  He was so proud and wouldn't accept help from anyone.  He wanted to live a normal life.  He didn't not want to be treated differently and he wanted to be respected for who he was.

He suffered a lot of discrimination in his life.  And he didn't deserve any of it.  He was a hard worker.   He was always a kind person who never met a stranger and who would give you the shirt off his back.  

Of course we had our differences- hence the divorce. Because of many of the issues he had with his disease he was depressed and he was an alcoholic.  I left him because he wouldn't stop drinking. (or couldn't- I see things differently now). I never stopped loving him, even though he made me crazy.

Jeff passed away in September from complications from pneumonia. He had been in the hospital for seven months. He went home at the beginning of September and we all thought that he was going to be okay.  This was the way he wanted to go.  He didn't want to die in a hospital room.  He died in his own home, in his own bed.  He was 44.

So, when I think about disabilities, I think about Jeff and the many ways he suffered and the many things that were said to him that hurt him, the many things he tried to hide and the many things he never wanted to talk about.
But when I think about Jeff I think  about the love he had for Sam, the smile he had when he would see Sam.  I think about his love of Van Halen and his love of the movie Predator.  I think about the many friends he had that loved him and that miss him.  I think about how much Sam misses him.

His disability wasn't everything he was.

Societal Expectations...

This week has been a heavy week.

The cartoon drawn by a fellow UT student caused me some discomfort, some anger and some sadness.  I feel that she crossed the line.  But do I think she should be kicked out of school?  No, I don't.  I don't think she should have lost her job at the paper.  I think that her thoughts and actions, although different than mine, should not be vilified.  And, I don't know her, but I don't think she meant it to be so hurtful.  I think that she was making fun of the media, not of Trayvon.  My personal thoughts are that it was too much too soon, but I don't think that she should be made an example of by losing her job or being kicked out of school.

Sexism

I saw this on Facebook:

Ugh!  This made me really mad.  As a feminist, I've struggled with the word 'feminist' because of its negative connotation.  I wonder if the image on the left is how the average person sees us.  I've had people tell me, "you're not one of those feminist".  What does that mean?  I'm a feminist.  I believe that women and men are equally intelligent and equally capable.  Are we different?  Yes, in many ways we are different. We are socialized differently from a very young age.
This made me so mad so I showed it to my husband.  He laughed.  He said, "honey, this is meant to be funny, you're taking things too seriously."  I don't know about that.  I do know that even if it was meant to be funny, some people will take it seriously and have another reason to see feminism as something that needs to be cured.  Crossing the line.

I was a tomboy.  I loved to play with trucks, with cars, with dirt and mud.  I loved climbing trees.  My mom tried to force me to wear dresses to school.  "Mom, if I wear a dress to school I can't hang upside down on the monkey bars without everyone seeing my panties"  she finally gave in.
On my 7th birthday my dad asked me what I wanted.  I said I wanted a big yellow Tonka truck.  Dad said, "Barbara, I think it's time you became a young lady."  I didn't get the truck.  He took me, against my will, to get my ears pierced instead.  Such a sad birthday for me.   :(
Then one day, when I was in my early 20's, I embraced my feminine side.   I like wearing dresses!  And I like wearing pants.  I like wearing makeup and getting dressed up.  I still like to play in the dirt. :)

My son wanted a doll when he was 2 or 3.  So, I bought him one. He loved that rag doll for a few months then set it down for something new.  My father in law was so angry at me.  "You're going to make him gay!" I would just smile and shake my head.   Sam would watch me paint my toenails and would say, "do mine do mine!" So I did.  Again, "You're going to make him gay!"  He made Sam feel so bad for having painted toes that Sam would ask me to paint them, but I could see the worry in his 3 year old furrowed brow so I would paint them with clear polish so his papa wouldn't scold him.
My son is the sweetest kid.  He plays with the little kids on the block.  They all look up to him.  He will play with the little ones when no one else will. He'll push the little ones on the swing, or play with the little preschool toys and won't complain. He'll play kitchen with my niece. He is just a sweet sweet kid. Did I do that?  Nah...I think he was born sweet.  I think all babies are born sweet.  I think that society changes them because of the expectations we place upon them.  I hope he always stays sweet.   Does that make him gay?  Of course not.  You know why? Because he wasn't born gay. And if he was gay? That would be okay, too. He's just a sweet kid who likes all sorts of things.  I'm pretty proud of him, he is a kind, gentle human being.

The most hurtful thing Sam ever said to me was this:
I was teaching him to put pillows into a pillowcase (you know it's kinda tricky) and he said "Mom, why do I have to learn to do this?"  I said, "Because Sam, you have to learn to make your own bed and this is part of it." He said, "Mom, I don't need to learn how to do this, I'll have a wife someday."  Like a stab in the heart.

In one of the readings, something that stuck with me was about equal pay and "Men's jobs vs Women's jobs".  My son was speaking to the school counselor about what he wanted to do when he grew up.  Sam said, I think I want to be a teacher. (this brings me much joy- I don't think there are enough good male teachers out there).  But the school counselor said to Sam.  "There's not much money in teaching, Sam.  You might not be able to support a family on a teacher's income."  Another stab in the heart.

Societal expectations...

As a woman, as a mother and as a human being

This has been a difficult couple of weeks and I'm struggling with several things right now. 

One of the things that has been foremost on my mind is this war on women.  I woke up one morning and suddenly it felt like it was 1960 all over again and women had to defend their right to reproductive health care.  Women are having to defend themselves against sexist slurs and comments made by people in the media about their sex lives.  What the hell is going on here?  After reading Zinn about the "Intimately Oppressed" I'm left wondering, are we taking a gigantic step backwards? Are we really telling today's young women to hold an aspirin between their knees so that they don't get pregnant?  Are we saying that if a woman chooses to have sex that this makes her a slut or a prostitute?  Am I really hearing these things correctly? Because I'm confused.  I thought this was 2012 and I thought women fought a long and hard battle to be treated equally and for respect. Didn't women burn their bras back in the 60's to demand equal rights?  What the hell happened?  I realize that this battle is still being fought and I realize that there are still many ways in which our rights as women are still not equal. But, we've come a long way, or have we? 

I saw this 3 minute video on facebook:   Ann Coulter explains why it would be better if women didn't vote. 

Unbelievable.  

Stand for Children

Because this has been a difficult couple of weeks, I was really looking for some inspiration from Jonah Edelman.  I was a bit disappointed in the seminar, but I was able to find a bit of inspiration.  I bought his mother's book, The Measure of our Success.  It's a small book, less than 100 pages, but it really spoke to me.  I realize that I need to find the inspiration within myself and remember why I wanted to be a social worker in the first place. In her book she says, "Service is the rent we pay for living. It is the purpose of life and not something you do in your spare time."  That's just what I needed to hear. 

This has been a difficult semester, not just for me as a student, but for me as a woman, as a mother and as a human being.  

RIP Trayvon Martin 

I had to tell my son about Trayvon yesterday morning.  How do you explain the unexplainable?  As a mother, I feel his mother's pain.  I feel his mother's pain as I think about my son, just a couple of years younger, sitting at school while Trayvon sits in a cold grave.  My heart is truly broken.  And I am outraged.  I am outraged and I feel so sick and helpless and I want so much to do something. I'm also scared.  I'm scared of the hatred that this reveals and I scared about what this means.  I'm scared that someone like Zimmerman would kill a young boy in cold blood.  What does this say about us as humans?  My husband has said before, "We have a thin veneer of civil behavior that can be easily scratched to reveal our true barbaric nature".  I've always disagreed with this.  But now, after this, I'm left wondering...

peace, love and hope

This semester has opened my eyes a little on the topic of religion.  

I grew up in a religious household, went to church every Sunday and participated in religious activities outside of church.  A church that taught hellfire and damnation.  

The first time I questioned my beliefs I was about six and I had a cat who died.  I told my Sunday school teacher about my cat and how upset I was that she had died, and that I was looking forward to seeing my cat in heaven.  She told me that God doesn't allow animals in heaven.  What? I thought, "If God doesn't allow animals in heaven, what kind of place is it and why would I want to go there?"  

Of course, this was one lady's interpretation on Christianity and heaven and animals, but it really stuck with me.  

Since then, some of the most horrific things I heard have been from people of the Christian faith.  I realize that these are people who are speaking of their own beliefs and their own values and they in no way represent everyone's belief but these things shaped my thoughts about religion. 

I went on a ski trip with a church group.  A group of about 30 teenagers were having lunch one day and the pastor of the church was talking to us.  This group of kids was all white, except for me, but I looked white and I didn't say anything to bring attention to myself.  The guy said to us, "I believe that all minorities should be sterilized."  This was the pastor of the church!  This man who had power over the minds of these impressionable teens said those words.  I didn't say anything.  I sat there, amazed and very sad.  He was saying that I shouldn't exist.   

 

So, the reason I say that my eyes have been opened a little is that I know realize that I have been intolerant of people's faith.  I would never say something to someone who practiced their faith, but a little part of me on the inside might judge you a little or might even fear you a little. I don't want to be that way anymore.  I realize that as a social worker, and as a human being, that I will come in contact with many different people with different backgrounds and different beliefs and that some of these beliefs will contradict mine, but that in no way does that make them any less valid or any less relevant.

I believe that there are many paths to Heaven, to God, to Enlightenment.

I don't believe in hell or in eternal damnation. 

I believe in peace, love and hope.  

Wal-Mart, Classism, and my thoughts on debt

Wal-Mart


Wow!  I knew there was a reason that I don't shop at Wal-Mart but other than the horrible feeling that I get when I go in there, I really couldn't articulate why I choose not to shop there. 
I was amazed and angered at the thought that management would encourage employees to seek health care or benefits from the state because they were not willing to pay a living wage.  That means that I, as a taxpayer, am helping subsidize Wal-Mart. 
I was also outraged at the thought that managers would suggest to their employees to work off the clock.  What is wrong with these people?  And I would have to disagree that this is a few bad managers that have made those decisions.  Those decisions come from higher up and are the accepted practices of the company.  Companies have values and this company's values do not match with mine.  I will continue to not shop at Wal-Mart.  
(But I do shop at Target, and now I'm scared because I like Target!!) 




Classism
Something was said in a different class by a fellow student, whom I respect and whose opinions I value, that has stuck with me all week.  We've been talking about physical environment and after some class discussion about whether or not parks or green areas or community gardens were relevant to impoverished neighborhoods, she offered, "If you're thinking about parks, then you're not low class."   Maybe she meant something different then how I interpreted it. Maybe I'm completely on the wrong side of the ballpark on this one (pun intended).  I interpreted "low class" as "poor"- maybe I'm off here.  If so, then please forgive me. 
But... 
Wow.  This comment made me very sad.  :(  
Parks and green spaces, in my opinion, are important to poor people and to poor neighborhoods.  I spent A LOT of time in parks as a child- and we lived in an impoverished neighborhood, and we were poor.  Some of my happiest moments were spent at the park with my friends and my sisters.  Digging in the sand, swinging on the swings, playing castle, playing chase...  Those were great times where we were physically active, outdoors and we had free time to use our imaginations.  
I think about all the kids I played with and how this was one of our only forms of entertainment.  We didn't have money for the movies, we didn't always have a working TV and when we did, we didn't have cable.  We played outside, at the park, in the playground.  
I understand that things have changed a little in some neighborhoods, some parks are unsafe and may have bad people in them doing bad things, but that, to me is a different issue. 
Playtime, particularly outdoor playtime, is just as important to poor children, as it to children with higher economic status.  
I can also see where parks might not be a neighborhood's primary concern.  I can see that a parent of a child might not be able to put food on the table or might not be able to keep the lights on, and that playing at the park might not be very high on a priority list, but I still think it's an important way to keep a community together and a healthy alternative to other activities that children might get involved in. 


I don't mean to judge or to offend anyone, I'm just voicing my opinion.  I would really love to have an open dialogue about this subject. :) Maybe I just don't understand and am only seeing one side from my limited worldview. 


Chapter 40- The Debt Trap. 


Reading about Diane McLeod left me with a couple of different thoughts.  First of all, I do believe that banks prey on the disadvantaged or the uneducated with their high interest rates and their fees. I do think that people of color are treated differently and charged differently.  I worked in banking, so these things I know to be true.  However, I do think that people should be held somewhat responsible for their purchasing decisions.  I feel that many people overspend and rack up the charges on their credit cards to keep up with their peers, or to keep up with the people they see on TV.  Sure, one could argue that media plays a big part in this, and one could also say that people aren't educated on finances.  I know that I was not educated on finances.  When I was 18 and in college for the first time, I got a credit card.  I had a part time minimum wage job and I had a credit line of $2000.  What did I do??  I charged that sucker up- all the way up.  I bought a TV, clothes, shoes, meals, etc. Shoot, I even bought clothes for my roommate.   And what happened?  I defaulted on that card.  I spent years paying it back.  YEARS.  For clothes that were long gone, a TV that was tiny and completely obsolete and meals that had long been forgotten.  But, you know what, I learned that lesson.  It was a hard lesson to learn. But I learned it.  It took me years to repair my credit. 


I would love to say that I was completely debt free, but I'm not.  I have a small amount of revolving debt, but nothing I can't manage.  
When I see people charging things they don't need, I get it, I completely understand, I've been there, I've done that, heck, sometimes I still do, but I am completely responsible for that debt. 


The whole mortgage debacle, in my opinion, is a completely different matter.  Banks purposefully mislead buyers into buying things they couldn't afford or mislead them into interest only mortgages.  But then, I struggle with this: Whose job is it to educate people on large purchases, or on how to manage their finances?  As a parent, I feel that it's my job to teach my child.  But, what if you don't have a parent that can or will educate you on finances.  Does one have to learn the hard way as I did? Or should there be a high school course on finances (maybe there is) and if there is a course on finances, will it make a difference?  


I believe that poor people get charged differently than other people.  I can see how people get into a sea of debt just trying to play catch up with the bills.  But charging all that money on stuff from QVC, it's difficult for me to have any sympathy for Diane.  :(  

Let's Talk about Class

Class:  I'm weird when it comes to class.  I see class through my own lens of how I grew up.  I recognize that people see things differently, but I feel that moving out of poverty or being (I hate this term) lower class that not much matters after that.  That one leap from being poor to being middle class is gigantic.  After that, it's all gravy. 


Thinking about class always makes me think of being a kid.   I was raised by a single mom along with my 2 sisters.  We lived below poverty level and Mom was always too proud to apply for any kind of assistance.  So, we went without a lot of things.  Food was one of those things.  So, when I think about being poor, I think about being hungry. 

Being poor though, I never felt "lower class".   It's strange.  My mother grew up in an upper middle class home with money and culture and art.  So, even though we didn't have the money thing, we had other things, like classical music, opera, art, and lots of books.  It's a funky part of the way we grew up.  Although we didn't have regular meals on our table, or we didn't have money for the electric bill, Mom would have never referred to us as being poor or lower class.  Mom was a poor snob.  Oh, the irony. Makes me laugh now. :)  


Although she was no longer eating Lobster Thermidor and "summering" in Massachusetts and we were literally one step away from being homeless, Mom never recognized that those days were gone and that they weren't coming back.  She was stuck in the class with which she identified herself growing up. 

Today I lead a pretty comfortable middle class life, although there is no lobster thermidor for me.  I'm fortunate to have a husband who is supporting me through school. My husband grew up poor as well, and put himself through school.  We laugh now because most of our problems are what we call "first world problems."  But I think we both still have some "lower class" sensibilities.   We're both pretty frugal with our money, we save more than we spend.   We live in a moderate house and we rarely eat out (only on special occasions or when I really really don't want to cook). Neither of us has a smart phone. :(  Although I really, really want one I can't justify spending the money.  We're too practical for our own good.  So, I wonder if we're also stuck in the class that we identified with growing up. We are both committed to never, ever being poor again.  


I worry, though, about my teenage son.  I don't spoil him, he has chores and he doesn't get everything he wants, but he has never really had to work hard for anything.  He doesn't have to worry about paying for college, because we've put aside money for that. But will that make it mean less to him?  

His childhood and mine are completely different.  And the funny thing is, I value the weird funky things that led me to become the person I am today.  I certainly wouldn't wish the hardships I had on him, but I wonder if he'll grow up feeling entitled. Am I teaching him good values?  I need to work more on keeping him grounded.  Maybe I'll make him read the books I list at the end of my blog. :)

One of the things that interests me as a future social worker is generational poverty and how to break the cycle. There seem to be many different places in the cycle that can lead to generational poverty and my goal is to find a place where I can make the biggest impact. 

If you haven't read this essay on being poor (I've posted it before) it's very moving.  It's written by a science fiction author who grew up poor, but has become moderately successful. 


Some of the books that had a huge impact on me as a teenager were The Grapes of Wrath,  and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  Angela's Ashes is another good one. 


The Glass Castle is an excellent book about poverty.  Reading about people who experience living in poverty reminds me to be thankful for what I have and to have empathy for those who have little or nothing.  


Culture Boxes


I have loved seeing the culture boxes.  :)  

Integration

During my second grade year, my fellow students and I were required to take a bus from our predominately Mexican American elementary school on the north side of town to a predominately African American elementary school on the south side of Fort Worth.  This long bus ride was the school district's attempt to desegregate the Fort Worth area.  

What I remember from this time is that I was in a class room of my peers, other bused students, also Mexican American or White, and that my teacher was Mexican American.  I remember that the school was old and had a cloak room instead of lockers and that we were largely keep away from the rest of the student body.  I don't know if this was to keep us separated because of race, or if it was because we were separated due to grades.   

I remember playing marbles with my friends on the playground, but I don't remember hanging out with any black kids. So were we really integrated?

Today it seems that this attempt at integration was simply done to appear to be in compliance with Brown vs Board of Education ruling. Although the decision to end the "separate but equal" doctrine came down from the Supreme Court in 1954, schools districts in the south, like in Fort Worth, didn't begin to "integrate" until the sixties.  Integration by busing remained in place into the early 80's. 

Interment Camps

I read Snow Falling on Cedars several years ago, and I remember watching a movie with my mother about the Japanese interment camps when I was a young girl.  I don't remember anything about the movie, except I remember a Japanese American having his loyalty questioned because he kept carrier pigeons.  He wound up killing all the pigeons to prove his loyalty. This, however, didn't save him from the interment camps.  

This act of racism infuriates and terrifies me.  Many of the Japanese people were American citizens who had been living here for many generations.  We, the American government, decided they were a threat and so they were put into camps and forced to leave their homes and their businesses, and their friends so that the government could keep an eye on them.  They lost their businesses, their homes, their land because their loyalty was questioned. 

As I was reading the NYTimes article, I wondered about the Italian Americans and their treatment during the war.  I googled and found this: Civil Rights Suffered by Italian Americans.  I am amazed because I had never heard of Italian Americans civil rights violations during this time. According to this link, the American government did not want me to know. 

It brings to mind the treatment of Americans from the middle east and how they have been treated since 9-11.  And it makes me wonder, is anyone ever truly safe? Will my loyalty ever be questioned?  Will I ever be removed from my home?  


Besides the readings


Susan B. Anthony has been on my mind today: 

*Join me in demanding that the U.S. House Oversight and Government Reform Committee hold a new hearing on birth control —and this time to have a meaningful representation of women and mothers!

White Man's Burden?

I enjoyed having guest speaker, Diane, from Safe Place come in and talk with us.  She has given me a lot to think about this week.

One of the discussions that we had was on ownership and it brought to mind the Aboriginal peoples in Australia and the history they share with our Native Americans.  I had the wonderful experience of visiting Australia last summer.  One of the places that we visited was Uluṟu-Kata Tjuṯa National Park.  We had a guided tour from one of the aborigines and learned a little bit about their culture.  One of the things I took away with me was that they have no word for please or thank you.  The guide explained through an interpreter that their people don't have these words because they are raised to do what is expected of them without being asked.  This also lead to the discussion of how the aborigines are an equal society.  There were chores that were considered women's work and chores that were considered men's work and they seemed equal in difficulty and practical in nature.  Within a tribe everyone was considered equal and no one was the leader or made all the decisions.  They also felt no ownership of the land on which they lived.  The guide said that the land provides food, water and shelter but that they could no more own the land than they could own the sky.  The idea of ownership came to them from the Europeans and now they have to fight to keep the rights to the place their people have inhabited for centuries.   They were a nomadic people, and they owned what they could carry, and they had no horses or carts, they carried everything themselves.  This was a beautiful experience and I wish I could have stayed longer and learned more.

This is me with our guide who demonstrated how the women carried their things with them including a baby in the crook of their arm.

 The aborigines in Australia were also subjugated and many were killed either through diseases like small pox or through violence.  Europeans came to Australia and wanted to take the land and they wanted to civilize the native people, all in the name of the White Man's Burden, which is similar to what happened here in America.    Thousands of aborigines were killed and dislocated from their families and their tribes.  The area of Uluṟu-Kata Tjuṯa National Park was "given" to the aboriginal people much like reservations were "given" to the Native American tribes.  The National Park is open to tourists including the rock formations Uluru and Kata Tjuta, which are sacred to the native people.  This was an agreement made between the Australian government and the remaining tribes of the aborigines but I learned that the aborigines would rather keep their land closed to the public, but that the Australian government coerced them into allowing tourists to certain areas of the land. The Australian people that live on the land to manage the tour groups all seemed very respectful of the people and of their traditions. The aborigines suffer with some of same problems that our Native Americans, and they have a sadness that has colored their history.  Here is more information about the Australian Aboriginal people.  

Beautiful Uluru at sunset as the moon rises above.

Wow.  This week's readings have given me a lot to digest.  I'm feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings that I've experienced this week.

Dr. Aguilar's personal story about his ability to overcome the many barriers that could have kept him from pursuing his education gave me a lot to think about.   I am truly impressed that he had the drive, the ambition and foresight to change the trajectory of his life's path by pursuing education and ignoring the naysayers in his life and that he recognizes the cost. 

What this brings to mind, for me, is all the kids that don't have that internal drive, or the obstinacy to use Dr. Aguilar's word, to defy those barriers.  I'm thinking about all those kids whose potential was ignored because of the color of their skin or the expectations set upon them by our society because of their zip code. how could their lives have been different if the expectation was that they would go on to college and to live up to their potential, or if even their potential was even realized.  

When I was a child, a common thing that I heard was that America was a great melting pot.  That all the traditions and cultures had been blended into one great big pot of America. This idea that we're a homogeneous nation of people ignores all the wonderful differences of our society.  American might be better described as a large salad, with lots of interesting textures and tastes and flavors.   You can't just put everyone into one great big blender and make everyone the same.   

Color-blindness is similar to me.  To pretend that we don't recognize that we are all different and may have different needs based on our histories or the histories of our race or culture is an outdated idea and is, in my opinion, ineffective and disrespectful.  We can't ignore a huge part of how we identify with ourselves and with other people. 

We're not the same.  We all have different backgrounds, and worldviews and many of us have experienced oppression in different forms.  To ignore that oppression and racism exists is to ignore the history of our nation and the history of its people of both the oppressors and the oppressed.  

Reading about the parts of our American history that we didn't get in school has been eye opening and jaw dropping.  I remember my father telling me early on not to believe everything I read.   I remember him telling me that history was written by the winners, and that the telling of history changes.  I remember him scolding me for playing "Cowboys and Indians" with my friends and telling me that I needed to be more respectful and that I didn't know the whole story.  Well, the whole story is not pretty. 

It may be easier to sugarcoat our American history so that we can continue to believe that we have a pretty story to tell about the discovery of America.  It's a nice story, but it isn't true.  I'm angered and embarrassed and feel great sadness about how we really "discovered" America and how we destroyed a nation of people to obtain it. And how our great nation was built on the backs of slaves, brought here, away from their culture, away from their families, their children, their wives.....

And how all these things still play apart in today's society and who gets what...

Have I Been Oppressed?

Oppression.  Such a big word that invokes so many feelings.  Have I been oppressed?  Yes, I think so.


Race

I feel I have a unique perspective when it comes to race.  I am of mixed race.  My father was born in Mexico and my mother was white.  I look more like my mother, so I look white.  I tend to identify with the Mexican side of my family because they were present when I was growing up.  When people ask, I tell them that I am Mexican. My maiden name is Suarez.

Since I look white and because I have a "white" name (Barbara-how white is that?), I have experienced white privilege.  I know that I won't be followed in a store, I know that people assume I have money to pay for my purchases and I know that if I apply for a loan, I'm likely to get it.  But, I've also watched as my friends or my family have been watched at the store, or been questioned about their financial abilities.

As a teenager, I remember having dinner with white families who talked derogatorily about other races not realizing that I was Mexican. Did I speak up?  No, not as a teenager, but I do today.
I've had people tell me that I'm not a "real" Mexican, or that I'm not like "those Mexicans". It almost seems as though they were forgiving me for being Mexican because I look white.  I've also had people tell me to use the term, "Hispanic" because the word "Mexican" is a dirty word.

How does racism affect a group of people?   http://vimeo.com/11939747

Gender

Before I was laid off and went back to school, I worked in a male dominated industry.  I felt that I had to work harder to prove myself and to move up in the industry.   Once in a sales position, I was chided by a female co-worker who said I would be more successful if I hugged the clients more. I had a boss who was amazed that I was able to make the drive to Houston and back in one day.  His exact words were, "I knew a man could do that, but I never thought a woman could."  When I was eventually promoted into his position, I had to fight for my salary, and in the end, it was still $10k less than his.
Last night, at dinner, my mother-in-law told me that she truly believes that men are smarter than women.  It almost made me weep.

Class


I grew up poor. I know what it's like to live a month without electricity because we couldn't pay the bill.  I noticed the way people looked at my mother when she would ride the bus to work because we didn't have a car.  I felt my face burn with shame when I was asked to move to the back of the church bus so that the girls with the pretty new dresses could sit up front.  "Let them have the clean seats since they're wearing new dresses."

What is it like to be poor?   http://whatever.scalzi.com/2005/09/03/being-poor/

Disability


I'm fortunate to be able bodied.  I do, however, have a child who has a learning disability.  He has a writing disability.  He is fourteen and his writing resembles a first graders.  He's a smart kid who excels is math and can do many math problems in his head.  This year we're struggling with his geometry teacher who feels that Sam shouldn't be in her pre AP class because although he can answer the problem correctly, having to actually write down each and every step can be excruciatingly slow for him.  In all other subjects he is accommodated with the use of a laptop,  but in math, work has to be written by hand.  I'm working with him to self advocate.  I feel that this teacher thinks less of him and judges his intelligence based on his handwriting. And I feel that he will struggle with that judgement for the rest of his life.  It's frustrating to watch your child struggle with feeling less than.  I don't ever want him to feel less than anyone.

Do I know what it feels like to be oppressed? Sure. Have I ever been the oppressor?  I'm certain that I have. Can we, as a society, change this?  Yes, I think we can.

Long Winter's Nap

I have to be honest and say that I had to read the first article a couple of times through so that I could begin to understand what the author was talking about.  I feel as though my brain is just now awakening from a long winter's nap.

I appreciate both sides of the argument.  I can see that making blanket policies that work to improve the lives of people in certain groups can seem to exclude certain individuals.  I also feel that making large sweeping group oriented policy changes can be progress and can be a move in the right direction and that at least those broad sweeping moves can open the door to conversations about tweaking the changes to help more individual cases.

I've gotta do what??

I have never blogged before, but I enjoy reading other bloggers. I've often said that I hate classes where you memorize the information that you need to make an A on the test and in the course, and by the time the semester is over all of those things have been forgotten.  I'm looking forward to doing things a little differently. 

I'm a little overwhelmed, but am excited about learning new things and going a little outside of my comfort zone.