There's a shitload of shit going on Friends!  COVID 19, rising cases and death rates; fucking Trump, his enablers and worse, his voters; protests in the streets, BLM, BIPOC, race/police relations; everyone working/attending school from home; political tensions over wearing face masks; anxiety; and increased suicide rates to name a fucking few.  

What we are going to focus this blog on for the next few months is DEI - Diversity, Equity, Inclusion.  And here is why:  I want to document my personal journey to understanding my own personal biases toward race.  I want to be able to Hear and Absorb the message, Infuse it into my daily life, and Communicate with a positive, comfortable voice for race relations.

Let's begin.

A few weeks ago I was asked to be part of the DEI committee of LWV.  Of course I enthusiastically said of course!   A while later my inner self asked me "What the hell can I bring to this committee?  I'm a middle aged, white woman, raised in a white, rural state living in white suburbia.  I'm the epitome of the problem!"  I've wrestled that "problem" until last night.

Last night I attended an introductory DEI ZOOM Meeting.  Other women expressed the same concern about what "we" can contribute to recognizing inequality in America's race relations.  It's a valid insecurity.  And it's a cop-out!  Shame on "us" for looking for the sympathy.  The easy way out.  Fucking validation!  NO!  No more!

I may fear "retaliation" for mis-speaking on my journey to learn and be a better race partner.  That is nothing!  I don't fear interactions with police, jogging down the street nor do I fear for my children's lives as they go about their daily business.

Whining about my inherent white privilege is privilege.  Get the Fuck over it!  NOW!

Day 1.  Stop expecting "help" with my privilege!

https://everydayfeminism.com/2015/10/counterproductive-allyship/

I was at the airport the other day.  Me and my fellow passengers waited together at our assigned gate.  Families with small children, people needing extra time, and service men and women were allowed to board first.  Then Zones 1 thru 3 were called.  We all shuffled aboard, stowed our carry on luggage in the overhead compartment and our purses/backpacks under the seats in front of us.  We buckled our seat belts, stared at our phones or ipads and tried to ignore everything and everyone around us as best we could.

And then ...

We were told to gather all our personal belongings and de-board.  That's right!  After all that, without going anywhere, we all got off the plane.  

Let me tell ya:   If there is anything mechanically or electronically malfunctioning on "my" airplane then by all means, invite me to de-board and I will absolutely wait while you fix the problem.  Being an aeronautical statistic is not on my list of shit to do.

I will also tell ya:  Not everyone is so quick to share my sentiment.  The huge-ass, good looking ex-marine sitting next to me (thank you for your service) shared several unhappy "F*cks" and paced around for a good five minutes looking for a place to throw a punch before he finally simmered down.

A lady receiving wheelchair assistance was parked near my seat by the window and, as people who want to talk to someone but don't actually know anyone will do, said loudly "well there's nuthin' we can do about it" as she swiveled her head looking for some poor sap (me) to make the slightest eye contact or nod of assent so she can start sharing her life story.

The dark haired, younger-than-she-looked lady across from me was a nervous wreck.  She hadn't wanted to get off the plane and now she wasn't sure she wanted to get back on.  Nervous Nellie was traveling with a friend.  That friend, possibly to get away from the repetitive ramblings of her crazy pal or perhaps because she really did want to stand in a line 50 people deep to book other passage home, left Nervous Nellie to find camaraderie in strangers.  Nellie and Wheelchair Lady were the perfect pair for a bit - both spoke, neither listened - until they realized the incompatibility of their situation and moved on to another stranger who had been trying her damnedest to inconspicuously observe the chaos at the gate by pretending to play a game on her Ipad (again me).

Holy shit, people working for the airline do NOT get paid enough to put up with the crap that is slung at them when people are inconvenienced.  As far as I'm concerned, the airline took into consideration my comfort (they let me off the plane didn't they?) and safety (I mean if not all systems are go for take off, then let's not take off!).  I didn't get too close to the gate agent desk, I had a really good seat in the sun by the window and my backpack was crazy heavy to carry, but a third of the passengers were standing in line to ... I dunno what ... rebook? complain? chat?  Whatever they were trying to do took each person in line 10 to 15 minutes to accomplish with their gate agent.  If I was the 45th guy in line I would have cut my losses and sat the fuck back down.  It must have been getting heated over there because a big burley fellow passenger standing near the desk like a guard dog announced (quite clearly considering he didn't even use the static-ey microphone the gate agents use to confuse us) that if you re-book your ticket you will not be able to get on this airplane when it takes off.  (That's assuming of course that it is actually fixed, able to take off, fly and land in Cleveland sometime today.)  It was entertaining to observe a coiffed regular-size business man have a conversation with Burley Fellow what with Burley Fellow standing his ground, looking down at Sir Coif just shaking his head and all.

Voyeurism is underrated!

So I got to thinking while I sat in my almost-too-hot chair by the window looking around at the other people waiting to get back on the airplane:   (Well, the first thing I think is, "If the plane crashes these are the people I'm going to die with."  But I always think that about my fellow passengers/victims.  Dark?  Yes but I like to think of it as pragmatic.)  what I was thinking was:  Each of these people MATTER to someone.  It MATTERS that each of these people make it home to their children, spouses, nieces, nephews, parents, and pets.   Someone loves her, him, them.  It makes a difference whether they return home safely.

Stop and think about that:  YOU MATTER!  (Now never forget it.)  Everyone MATTERS to someone ... or they should.

This gives me pause.  I was thinking about the workplace of my 'Social Worker'.  She works with kids who have had trauma caused by the people who are supposed to love and care for them first and foremost.  (Abuse and mistreatment just pisses me off to no end I'll tell ya!)  The responsibility of showing these kids they MATTER is on the psychologists, teachers, counselors and caregivers.  They are not permanent people in these kids' lives but they can leave a permanent impression.  These vulnerable kids MATTER.  Kudos to all who make a difference in their lives.  

​Or in anyone's life for that matter!

YOU matter to me Friends!

I'm in the process of learning new definitions for Thick and Thin.  Until recently I've associated these terms with waistlines & pieces of cake.

This first entered my conscientiousness a couple years ago when I listened to a podcast about a highly intelligent woman who is a specialized sociologist of some sort.  She introduced the term, "Thin Slicing".  Thin Slicing is a way of quickly processing information then making a decision.  I am a Thin Slicer.  I often make decisions based on a gut feeling or a first impression.  

A Thick Slicer, on the other hand needs a lot of time.  They run numbers, research, think, process information and come to a conclusion in about a year.

From experience as a Thin Slicer, I can tell you being married to a Thick Slicer is maddening yet useful.

Twitter is a Thin Slice.  You get information in 240 characters.  A tiny bit of information.  A thin slice can be a tiny piece of a person too.  Like if they are bald, blonde, grey or dark haired.  Democrat or Republican; Liberal or Conservative; Gay or Straight or anything in between; black, white, green or gold skinned - it is merely a Thin Slice / a part of who that person is.  

Thick Slicing requires time and careful thought.  Research and investigating facts and data.  The Thick Slice of a person is the sum of experiences shared, bonds, strife, humor, depth and substance.  A person can be a great cook, fantastic conversationalist, tells a great story, funny, smart, kind, caring, would give you the shirt off their back, donates time to charities, uncle, aunt, old friend, new friend, co-worker.  People fill out.  They 'thicken' into someone we care about, even love - like that crazy uncle at Thanksgiving.  

But in today's Twitter America we are quick to label, distrust, dismiss, fear, insult.  It is easy, quick, faceless, and often without substance nor fact.  "They" are liars, dumb, and fake.  "We" are right, perfect, and smart.  Was it always like this and I just never noticed?  Us vs Them on every channel, every news story, every comment on Facebook or Twitter.   I gotta tell ya:  the rampant and constant vitrol scares the shit out of me.

Yet I refuse to let the national divide cause civil "war" amongst me and my friends.  I may not like the channel you watch nor the person you vote for and, I'll be honest, for me these alignments are no small choice but I will not let the shit storm in the white house tear apart my friendships.  The thin slice of political affiliation may be getting thicker but it is not the whole slice of My Friend.

​The sum of us is More!  Recognize it in others.  Recognize it in Yourself!

Low Carbon Diet:  A 30 Day Program to Lose 5000 Pounds

I've never tried to lose 5000 Pounds before.  Oh sure, over the course of my life time I may have gained and lost that much (insert eye roll & wink here) but I'm not talking about pounds of fat and water weight today.

I'm talking about reducing my Carbon Footprint.  The program is designed to be done with a group - family, neighborhood, friends, community.  But I, of course, need to give it a try first to see how I do before inviting others to join me.  This should be interesting because I am a suffer-er of White Middle Class Privilege.  This malady is insidious.  It's taken a while for me to recognize it in myself; to understand the impact of my blind oblivion.  

But it's an evolution.  It's time to wake up and make a change.

Here are the 8 things I'm going to be aware of, track, reduce and improve in the next 30 days:
Reduce Solid Waste
Reduce Hot Water in Showers
Reduce Water Used for Washing Dishes
Wash & Dry Clothes More Efficiently
Heat & Cool the House More Efficiently
Turn Off Appliances - Plug Appliance Leaks
Reduce Miles Traveled
Eat Less Meat

Day 1:
Took an approx. 7 minute shower including water warm up, double shampoo/conditioner & shaving.  I say approx because it's slippery to stop the clock right when the water goes off.

Dried the rugs outdoors on the chairs instead of using the dryer for two hours.

Drove out two separate times - should have consolidated those trips.  Wanted to go for a drive thru the Valley but decided to keep the trip short and save fossil fuels.  

Cooled the house while we slept (70) and raised the temp during the day (73)

It's a start.  Lots of room for improvement.

I used the Carbon Footprint calculator on the LWV Climate Change site to calculate the footprint for my 3 person household.  It is currently 169% over the local average.  Ugh!  I'm sure it's the number of flights I added but that's just justification.  I may find another calculator to compare and get more specific info but you can check your Carbon Footprint using:  Carbon Footprint Calculator Powered by Make an Impact.

I'm the Incredible Hulk!  It's true.  And fucking disturbing.  I think of myself as fun and accommodating.   And yet ...

My COF described an incident when "I scared them".  It doesn't matter the topic, or the situation - what matters is that my energy caused some of these women to become uncomfortable and leave the room for more wine.  

Of course I apologized for making them uncomfortable.  That is never my intent.  I prefer to be loved not feared.  I really don't see myself as fierce or scary ... and yet ... as I reflect ... I do have an element of Fierce.  

I'm sliding into acceptance that I am Fierce.  It's happened often.  When someone or something I care about (kids, family, friends, the environment, democracy!) is "threatened" Fierce will arrive forcefully and sometimes suddenly.    You do NOT mess with this Mama Bear.  My kids know this.  My son rejects and disdains my "help".  Which is fine.  He's much more capable and successful in fighting his own battles.  They all are actually.

Earlier, the College Daughter shared a story about her teammate's interaction with the coach.  The teammate has an actual (serious!) medical condition, the coach is shallow and wants her scholarship money for someone else.  As I heard the details of this story I literally got pissed off and pumped up!  Fortunately my clothes didn't rip off nor did I turn green but the effect was otherwise the same.  There was a small smile on my daughter's face.  She knew my rage was impotent.  I wasn't going to call or email anyone.  My energy validated the shittiness of her teammate's treatment by the coach.  I think sometimes it's nice to have The Hulk in your corner.  

Other times, not so much.

It was humbling to realize that I'm a "scary" friend.  I guess it's good to know how I am perceived - the polar opposite of who I think I am.  Shit!   I don't apologize for standing up for what I think is right.  Though I may need to restrain The Hulk a bit in order to have an educated discussion vs scare the shit out of bystanders.

Keep Cool My Friends.

I haven't written for a while.  Last week wasn't a great week emotionally.  The timing sucks extra because it was my birthday week - usually the best week of my year.  I'll have to make it up to myself.

Call it a funk, boredom, a slump, the doldrums or depression.  Doesn't matter.  It's a waste of time and energy.  Yes energy.  It takes a lot of energy to mentally argue & negotiate with yourself only to lose and resign yourself to the couch with the clicker and a bottle of wine.  It's exhausting to disappoint yourself.  
To be disappointing.  

I can usually negotiate a two day indulgence of depression.  I didn't this time.  I was terrible to me.

This week I rise.  Shaking off that slightly edgy feeling.   Re-familiarizing myself with regular routines.  Becoming comfortable in my surroundings.  Healing the damage to body and soul.  Getting my groove back.

The weird thing is:  no one has any idea my week was so inward and unhealthy.  Well, by way of explanation I shared a bit with my girls.  And I hashed out a few things with the Hubs.  But as I "re-enter society" - no one has a clue.  

It just goes to show:  We have no idea what another person is going thru.  

Be Kind to Yourself & Others My Friends.