Symbolic Interactionism (original poem)

meant to post this yesterday when I wrote it but was battling migraines (and still am, I've been hiding in a dark room for the last 6 hours and am too wired up from the caffeine that helps with the migraine pain to have any hope of getting to sleep anytime soon), then more crap hit the fan today that added a few lines to this from a totally different direction. I share this response to the forces that keep trying to hold me down, in hopes that others who feel that they're being held down and back might find it and find strength to push back through my words.

Whoever you are, you are not what others present you to be. You are more than the sum total of their opinions of you. Find your inner core reality, find something to LOVE about yourself, and stand upon that foundation when they try to knock you down. Then go look for that inner core reality worth loving in those around you, help them find it and stand with them. This is the way to real strength, from what I've lived.

Here's the poem:

Symbolic Interactionism

"You're so stubborn" you declared
as if not knowing where
I came from - this dissolution
of dissatisfaction
is not a symptom of mule-headedness.
I cannot confess
upon my knees,
nor begging will you see
for the scraps you've ever thrown my way.
I have put away those days
where I longed for you
and not some substitute
teacher, role model worth
the intentionality of my birth.
Decades of my always being the one
to bring the olive branch home
only to have you turn it into a switch
- the scars still itch
when I forget my self
and allow ghosts to dwell
within my heart crying "if only..."
but that path got too lonely
and I left it long ago
when I decided to blaze my own -
who cares if bridges burn
if they lead nowhere? So I learned
to release my hate, sadness, and resentment.
Now all you are to me is a disappointment,
a distraction from other priorities
that have taken over my loyalties.
Looking my way, you see
what you always wished to be
but you were unwilling to do the work
so resent my reminder of your worth.
I stopped crying for you a lifetime ago,
yet there is one more thing you should know.
When you called me stubborn, you were wrong.
I'm not JUST stubborn, I am strong,
beautiful, intelligent and kind.
And you can no longer claim what's mine.

(started 201110261401 added to 201110272338 - those are date/time marks for the curious YYYYMMDDHHMM)

Dear grumpy old male customer at Best Buy

I don't know what it was about me that made you feel entitled to interfere in my interaction with my four year old child while he was trying to figure out a game on an iPad. Perhaps it was simply because I'm female and you feel entitled to criticize anything any female does. Perhaps it was my attire (jean shorts, a Toy Story t-shirt, and sandals) that had you make assumptions about my social class, education level, church-going habits (we had attended a service on bullying at our church just a few hours before this, ironically), or marital status (tho the simple gold band around my left ring finger should have been a giveaway there). Perhaps it was my disability since I had positioned my mobility scooter in such a way as to shielding my child who was seated on the floor from becoming a tripping hazard - maybe you even assumed he wasn't mine since I am not able-bodied.

Whatever your "logic" was for stepping in to criticize my child and me for his sitting on the floor playing a game on the iPad, it was flawed. The fact that you were clearly a bully used to getting your way when you go to boss someone around was revealed in your refusal to back off and mind your own business after my REPEATED requests that you do so. That you then felt the desire to call in other authority figures - first suggesting the manager of the store, then even the POLICE, over a simple matter of a four year old playing with a floor model iPad in a place of public accommodation, revealed you to be not just an asshat, but a proud wearer of a scrotal necktie. The store staff was NOT thrilled with having to intervene and TELL you to mind your own business and look at a (GASP) different iPad, seeing as there were THREE on display. Your little stalker behavior of coming across the parking lot as we were loading my scooter and children into the minivan (yes, I saw you coming, and yes, the cell phone in my hand had 911 dialed with my thumb under the "call" button) was a total dumbass move and you're lucky I had the restraint not to throw the van into reverse and run your ass over, since it had taken quite a bit of restraint earlier in the store to keep from running your feet over with my scooter or braining you with my cane (though it seems like the tissue in that cranium might have been soft enough to not be much effected by the level of blow my limited arm strength is capable of delivering, so it wouldn't have really been worth the paperwork involved).

You should also count yourself lucky that I didn't video your ass and post you on YouTube, you twit. I refrained from even taking a picture of you to post here on my blog & Facebook feed.

Instead, you sarcastically wished us a nice day and I wished you a good life. Elsewhere. Preferably measured in air miles. And hopefully you'll think twice (or, heck, maybe even think FIRST) before harassing anyone who matches any of my demographic characteristics again. Because if you keep it up, sir, SOMEONE is gonna open a can of whoopass on you that your old brittle bones won't be liking. And of you invade someone's space the way you did mine, they well might be able to justify doing such to a jury, depending on who witnesses it.

Just sayin'.

Sincerely,

The DragonMama

Welcome to your last year of binary dates

Yes, I'm totally embracing my nerdhood in this post. Not exactly "New Year's Resolution" worthy as I've been embracing my nerdhood in various ways for a while (years, if not decades - depending on your perspective and what parts of me you've come to know). One "New Year's Resolution" I'm making is to try to post here more often (this is being posted on my blog, which cross-posts to my Facebook profile, for those of you confused since I am very active on Facebook).

Last Veteran's Day (November 11, for you ingrates who don't bother to spare a thought about those brave folks who defend your liberties on one of the few days set aside for them in our American calendar) it occurred to me that Veteran's Day 2011 will be a very cool date to write out (11/11/11)... it then occurred to me that this past Vet's Day (11/11/10) was the last binary day of 2010 (when all days in the short form of the date are either 1s or 0s). Then the thoughts just totally did a pile-on and I realized that 2011 is likely the last year I'll be able to write dates in a binary format a few times for the rest of my life as I don't really expect to see the year 2100 (possible, but living to be 123 seems rather unlikely. I would turn 124 at the end of 2100).

So all this pondering made me feel like I should do something to more than just say "huh, that's somewhat cool and interesting" every time I notice that the date is binary this year. I've decided that I will take a moment to send wishes of pure contentment to those who see things in a more binary way than I typically do (you could say I'm a bit more hexadecimal than binary I guess... see, the nerdiness just keeps on coming aren't you glad you continued reading???). Not just people I disagree with or don't particularly like (yes, I'm giving YOU a hairy eyeball, Speaker Boehner), but also friends of mine with mental health conditions that can seem rather binary at times (bipolar comes to mind immediately, and there are some aspects of OCD that can be kinda binary too). So if that happens to fit you, if there's something binary about a label applied to you (even if you don't feel at all binary yourself!), I hope you'll feel a little psychic hug from me whenever you write the date and it's all 1s and 0s.... and also if you look at a digital clock on one of those days and notice that IT is only displaying 1s and/or 0s ("or" being appropriate in this case since some folks have digital military clocks that actually display 00:00 once every 24 hours) - maybe consider noticing that the clock is displaying that way on a binary day could feel like a friendly little psychic kiss on the forehead AND hug from me since it's an extra special little quirk of a moment.

So why am I wishing contentment instead of happiness? There is reason for this distinction. I think our society is actually a bit messed up in its seeing the "pursuit of happiness" as a be-all-end-all thing... Happiness is nebulous, undefinable, and fleeting. As a species, anything that seems for a a moment to make us "happy" we seem all too quick to habituate to and be taking for granted in the blink of an eye. Happiness has become a commodity to be sold, almost as much as in the episode of Doctor Who during David Tennant's tenure when he took Martha Jones to New(to the Nth) New York and street vendors were trying to sell him "Happy Happy". Happiness has become linked to that which is disposable in our society - we are a culture of Happy Meals and the associated Made in China plastic crap. I wouldn't consider it a blessing to wish happiness like that on someone, particularly someone who already has an abundance of everything that SHOULD, theoretically, bring happiness - wealth above 90% of other individuals in the world, alleged freedom and equality under the law, and at least one person who gives a crap about their continued existence (me).

For those who have so much, I wish contentment. I wish them, for moments on a regularly occurring basis, to see all that they've got going for them and be content with it instead of constantly trying to acquire more and better and living in a constant state of low-level fear of losing any of what they have. I wish for them to realize how even a small portion of what they have could sustain those less fortunate - here in the U.S. and abroad - for a significant amount of time. I wish for them to take a moment to calculate what percentage of the necessary monthly expenses their pleasure discretionary expense of the moment might cover for a family less fortunate (for reference, the average monthly rent around my home is about $600 for a 2 bedroom unit with bathroom, kitchen, living, and dining rooms. Heating bills in the winter can run between $50 and $200 per month to keep such a home at 68 degrees while occupied, depending on how often someone is home and how well insulated the place is and how old its windows are, so someone who finds themselves confined to the house due to poor health in a poorly insulated place with old windows is really financially screwed unless they can qualify and obtain financial assistance... guess what? That's kinda us, only we don't qualify because my husband makes "too much" money while I'm home with the kids - "too much" in this case being a few hundred dollars a month above our recurring expenses [mortgage, payment for the family van & vehicle insurance, utilities, student loans, food, etc - not luxuries]).

Even with all this, I am content. Even with my physical disabilities that make that van a necessity not a luxury (without it, I would barely be able to leave the house, I can't physically get in and out of the 1991 Honda Civic my husband uses as a commuter car). Yes, there are other things and adventures I'd to have, pleasurable activities I'd like to do that I am prevented from doing because of lack of resources (financial, health, stamina, etc), but my ability to experience the pristine moments real happiness that flit through my life on a regular basis as I hobble from one splashy puddle to another of contentment is not in any way inhibited. Even when I do it in a mobility scooter on days (too frequent recently) when my legs aren't being cooperative.

That recognition, of how good we all really have it, is what I wish for everyone else.

May you be so blessed... and pass it on. Happy New Year.

Handicap-accessible bathroom stalls

So my twittering/Facebooking about my annoyance with an OBVIOUSLY able-bodied tween using the only handicap-accessible bathroom stall out of 7 stalls (5 of which were empty) at Cedar Point has a fellow UU accusing me of being closed-minded because maybe the young lady (who, I must first inform you, SKIPPED out of the stall past me without so much as an "oops, sorry!" as she headed back out toward the middle of CEDAR POINT - where a disabled person would have needed some assistance - cane, wheelchair, scooter, something - to get to from either entrance) had an "invisible disability" that lead to her needing the hand rails, thus excusing her making an actually, obviously disabled person wait to use the ONE toilet that was safely usable. The fact that the person having this discussion with me is able-bodied enough to vend at various events and is calling me out on behalf of her "disabled friends" and because she took some "Right Relations" seminars at our denomination's annual conference is irritating me a bit (I've been in chronic, daily pain since I was 10 years old - 2/3rds of my life - and have actually done advocacy work with various disabled populations since I was a child, up to and including this week when I've been interfacing with my local school district on behalf of another disabled mother and her child, who lived with us for a week earlier this month).

So, I've decided that I will make a little list of who it doesn't irritate me, personally, as a disabled person, to see coming out of a handicap-accessible stall when I've had to wait with my legs crossed to keep from making a mess on the floor when there are other stalls available for people who don't need the rails.

• Other disabled people who use some kind of assistance to move (cane, wheelchair, etc)
• People with small child(ren) in the stall with them (I totally understand not wanting/being able to squeeze into the regular stalls)
• People changing a baby's diaper (tho it annoys me greatly when the establishment puts the diaper changing station inside the accesible stall, it's obvious that sometimes they don't have any other place to put it safely because of traffic flow)
• People who are in pain (as someone who regularly tries to hide the amount of physical pain I'm in, I can tell when someone has a sore back and needs to use the rails even if they're only temporarily disabled and don't need a walking assistance tool)
• Pregnant women (the body dynamics of pregnancy make it hard for many women to stand up without something to leaver on)
• Obese people who can't get the door of a regular inward-opening stall closed around themselves
• Able-bodied people who take the accessible stall because all the regular stalls are already in use

Those are the ones that come immediately to my mind, there are probably others. Now for the list of people who get the hairy stink eye when I see them coming out of a handicap-accessible stall:

• unattended kids who skip/run out of the stall without so much as an "oops, I probably shouldn't have used that one" when they see a disabled person waiting
• teenage girls in groups who go into the handicap-accessible stall for more than just a pee
• mothers who let themselves be bullied by society into breastfeeding in the stall (I swear I'm filing an ADA complaint against a store if I ever get delayed using the toilet because of this - just hasn't happened yet tho I hear from plenty of women who are told that's where they should nurse their baby if the need arises in a public place, and I did have my local YMCA tell me last winter that I should have gone to the family changing room/bathroom to feed D after someone complained about me nursing him in the WOMEN'S locker room)
• women in heels so high there's no way they'd be able to walk if they actually had knee/hip problems

Those are pretty much the only ones that I actually give stinky-eye to (well, I wouldn't give stink-eye to the nursing mom, I'd give her some contacts for learning her and her baby's rights and offer to help her become more comfortable nursing in public - tip #1 try nursing in front of a mirror to see how little is actually visible, even without a blanket/cape/whatever.). Having been "invisibly disabled" for over a decade before I started needing a cane (and still getting comments from people occasionally when I park in a handicap-accessible parking space because apparently even when I'm dressed in a grubby t-shirt and sweatpants, the cane looks like a fashion accessory) I'm actually pretty likely to assume that the other person has an actual need for the stall's handrails or width. However, there have been several times (including last week at MSASS orientation) where the person coming out of the accessible stall to see me waiting there has actually apologized for their thoughtlessness in using that stall when regular ones were available. Some people really do just use them because they have a preference for them, not a need for them, tho I don't really get that (maybe it's the shiney of the metal hand rails?), without even thinking for a second that other people have a greater need for that stall than they do (at least, until visibly confronted with the evidence of their thoughtlessness). Thoughtlessness and lack of courtesy is pretty epidemic in our society at times, and this isn't exactly an issue people talk about, even when they're discussing manners and courtesy. This is also evidenced by how many times I've been (or seen some else obviously disabled - cane, walker, wheelchair, etc) in a women's restroom line and how rarely the person(s) in front of the disabled person will let the disabled person "skip" in line if the handicap-accessible stall comes available. At least 80% of the time (yes, this is something I'd actually like to quanifiably research), the safe-to-assume-able-bodied person walks right into the handicap-accessible stall and the handicapped person has to let people skip in front of THEM as the regular stalls come available while they wait for the able-bodied person to be done in the ONE stall the handicapped person can use. This isn't because there are so many "invisible disabilities" out there, the numbers just don't work out for how often this kind of thing happens. This is a factor of the me-first, oblivious to the actual needs of strangers around us, mentality of our culture (which, in addition to various other places, I've also encountered as a breastfeeding advocate - the "wants" of non-breastfeeders to not have to see "that" in public are assumed to be more important than the NEED of a baby to eat when it's hungry. The emotional discomfort/squeemishness of an adult who could walk away or look somewhere else are often given higher priority than the physical discomfort and basic need of a baby unable to help themselves). Personally, I refuse to excuse and enable thoughtlessness and discourtesy in our society by not offering any rebuke when someone crosses the line like this. And give me a break, it's just the freakin' stink eye! I don't even say anything to the "offending" party, and for all I know they're mildly Autistic and don't recognize the facial expression anyway (to be clear: mild autism is not generally a disability that requires the accessible stall - I know enough people with mild autism to know that as many cases as otherwise able people, they can use a stall without the rails... moderate/severe autism is of course another story). I'm not verbally confronting people as they come out of toilet stalls, I do have better things to do with my time (usually, at that moment, it's taking a pee).

What I'd really love to see is a world where ALL public restroom stalls have hand rails for people who need them. A lot of people who need the accessible stall would be able to use the other stalls with just that one little addition, the extra space isn't actually needed in many cases. My church has gone partway there - there are two stalls with rails in the women's bathroom, one that is large enough to easily maneuver a wheelchair/scooter and one that's standard stall size, and the changing table is not in a stall, plus there are two other family restrooms. Not sure how the accessibility is in the men's room but I know they've got a diaper changing station in there and I'm pretty sure it's not in a stall either.

Until then, it'd be nice if people would reserve the accessible stalls for people (such as those in my first list above) who actually need them.

Urg.

So today is one of the every-other-Fridays that Liam doesn't have school in his pre-k program. Usually I'm having to drag him out of bed at 7:45 to get dressed and fed before I drag D out of bed at 8am to change his diaper and let him get his favorite "stick cheese" (aka string cheese) out of the fridge on the way out to the van to get Liam to school at 8:30. Today? No school, Liam was up past bedtime yesterday with no nap, and still the little bugger wakes up at 7:10 AND proceeds to wake his little brother up for a rousing game of tickle-wrestling on the bed around Mama trying to figure out where the kids' snooze buttons are (why doesn't that Vulcan trick work in real life, dammit!?!). I had just been contemplating sneakily getting up and trying to get some writing done when Liam head-butted his brother awake. And they're both in a very rough-and-tumble mood today, which isn't doing good things to my Fibromyalgia trigger points that they keep bumping into (because, you see, they're also both in a very SNUGGLY mood, so they're squirm snuggling which is driving me insane, I keep yelping when they knee/elbow/head-butt one of my trigger points).

In other news, my in-laws made it home safely from their month in China yesterday evening. I skipped my last Migun visit (I'd paid for a month of unlimited visits) to go pick them up at the airport (which is also why I'm not so well physically today, that thing really does improve my physical function pretty drastically - we're planning on purchasing one shortly, hopefully in the next week. G and I need to set up the space where it will "live" first and make sure that spot actually has an electric outlet). Hopefully the whole family will use it as my MIL is developing a bit of a hump-back from bending over a sewing machine daily for 30+ years, my FIL has bad knees from standing at a garment press for a decade (and being nearly 70), Garvin's been complaining of upper back complaints, and then there's me. Visitors will also be welcome to use the bed if they'd like. Reminds me, I need to search for one of their centers in the DC area to visit while I'm down there so that my mobility stays as good as possible while traveling.

OH! and while my in-laws were in China they got me something that I've been wanting from there for AGES. Harry Potter in Chinese. Entire series in a very nice box. I didn't ask if it's traditional Chinese instead of simplified (I had specifically asked for Traditional, Simplified I could actually have gotten myself from Amazon for a reasonable price, but they sent a cousin to get it so I'm not positive). Much joy there. I'm going to try to set my FIL up with a voice recorder (likely one of our Sandisk Sansas that has been seeing much less use since the BlackBerries got here and I found media player software that's audiobook friendly for mine), and ask him to read the books in Cantonese for us. Yes, he knows it's primarily for me (I'm hoping to use it as a language learning tool - I still have less than 50 words in Cantonese after nearly 13 years of knowing Garvin), but they also want the boys to learn Cantonese, not just Mandarin (which is all that is taught locally - there are a couple Chinese School - weekend class things - around, but they're Mandarin and while my in-laws speak it, they are primarily Cantonese speakers and Garvin speaks almost no Mandarin, his Chinglish is Cantonese-English). I'm going to try hard not to press the point that by the time the boys are actually old enough to enjoy the story and it's nuances, he may no longer be around to read it to them. I think the helping out with his own mother-in-law's declining health (which is what they were in China for - she had surgery and isn't doing too well) likely has his own mortality on his mind enough that I don't need to say anything. Certainly has his mortality on MY mind enough, at least. His sibling group has been fairly long-lived, but I also get the sense that the others lived less hard lives than he has. He still has several older siblings living (he's 9th youngest out of 10, numbers 6-10 are all still alive, 2 died a few years ago and I think 1 died last year, 5 died I think when I was pregnant with Liam - at least I think I'm keeping the time straight. I know one of them died when we were still living in the first place in Cleveland when Liam was tiny, maybe that was 5? All three of these were brothers, for what it's worth - I met 5 who lived in California and I can't remember his English name, I called him the Cantonese version of "Father's Older Brother #5" which is what Garvin calls him, uncle 2 was Uncle Joseph who lived in Toronto and reminded everyone strongly of my own paternal grandfather in appearance when we watched our wedding video with them - and my own grandfather is named Joseph too so it was rather erie. Uncle 1 I never met, he lived in China or Hong Kong still). I just realized I think he only has one older brother living now tho - Uncle Peter (Uncle #7), who is in New York and was a doctor until retiring about a decade ago. Very social and vivacious man, which adds to his life expectancy. He actually comes across as younger than my FIL by several years, at least to my impressions. My FIL has at least two older sisters still living (6 and 8, both in Toronto), I can't remember if there's another older sibling I'm forgetting about, and Uncle 10 (Uncle Kevin) is still in very good health in California (retired school teacher, also very outgoing and seems much more than 2-3 years younger than my FIL) My FIL is very much an introvert - to the point if it wasn't for the language/culture barrier I suspect he'd be diagnosed with some variant of social anxiety disorder, he tends to go into his shell and hide from new people/situations for a while. It's bad enough that sometimes I think that his marriage may have been semi-arranged or at least very heavily nudged by other family members - my in-laws are distant cousins, she's told me something about going to live with his mother to help out with things when she was a teenager, might have been when she attended seamstress school I'm not sure - she's rather vauge with the details, I think she thinks I'd not understand as a westerner but I really do want to know and understand so I can share that part of the family history with the kids.

Woah, what I have time to reread of that is REALLY rambling and probably hard for anyone else to follow but the kids have been climbing all over me and bumping keyboard buttons that have almost resulted in losing this post a couple times, so I can't reread/reorganize it to make it more sensible at this moment. Welcome to the way my brain works.