I must confess that the Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. Growing up, I loved everything about it. The firework shows were always a lot of fun and the barbecues always seemed so much more yummy on the fourth than on any other day of the year. I still get crazy excited about that aspect of this holiday. There are, however, more substantial reasons for being a major fan of July 4th.
I am a history nerd. I love learning about history. When my family lived in Bosnia, we got to tour some places in Europe. My favorite place? The bunkers on the beaches outside of Dunkirk that were used by the Germans in World War II. I thought it was just so cool to be standing in a physical reminder of the price our country has paid not only for our freedom, but for the freedom of so many others. That is something we as Americans do well. We see the value of liberty and it makes us hardheaded. We don't settle for less.
When it comes down to it, our freedoms were bought with the lives of men who were willing to lay down their own to prevent their families and their descendants from having to live under brutal tyranny. America was colonized originally for religious freedom. Our ancestors came here where they could be free to worship without fear of persecution. Eventually, that persecution followed them with the British rule. King George set up colonies in what eventually become the original 13 states. The people were made to believe that they were being equally represented in the British parliament. When it became apparent that that was not the case, they fought back. Initially, their fighting was in small demonstrations...if you call things like the Boston Tea Party small. King George levied taxes and established laws that our forefathers did not have a hand in making. Now, they could have chosen to wait it out and hope that things would get better. They knew, as so many of us still know, that government should be of the people, by the people, and for the people and that a monarch an entire ocean away was not what was right. They wanted freedom.
On July 4th, 1776, the first continental congress signed a Declaration of Independence. In it, they listed everything that had been done that had forced them into making such a decision. They also listed their belief that all men are created equal and are endowed with certain rights that no one had any right in taking from them. The most amazing thing to me is that these men didn't just arbitrarily decide to plunge their fellow Americans into war without trying other avenues first. They'd tried for several years to get King George to work with them. Like Pharaoh and the Hebrews, King George was not interested in negotiating. So they did the only thing they could do. They cut ties and fought for Independence.
In the 1700s, warfare was much less, and in some cases much more, sophisticated than our current methods. At the time, the colonies didn't have a professional army or navy. They relied on militiamen. In my mind, that was probably the best thing they could have done. A man fighting for his family and his home is much more determined to succeed than a soldier simply being paid to fight. A regular army was formed on June 14, 1775. The Continental Congress appointed George Washington as its Commander-In-Chief. Washington knew the value of militia and utilized them for short stints while coordinating his own army. On November 10, 1775, the United States Marine Corps was formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. At the beginning of 1776, Washington's army had 20,000 men, one-third of which were state militia. 20,000 men volunteered and fought for freedom against the much more rigorously trained British redcoats. Before the end of the war, 250,000 men served as regulars or militiamen during the eight years of the wars duration. Think about it. Right now, that's not a lot of people in a war. At the time? That's incredible.
Eight years after a handful of men took the initial step toward freedom, the British were defeated and we were free. We established our own form of government and adopted a constitution of rights and laws. Throughout history, our country has fought many times to maintain that hard earned freedom. In 1812, we again went to war with the British. In 1860, South Carolina seceded from the union and was quickly followed a month later by many other Southern states, beginning the most devastating war in our history. More American lives were lost in the Civil War than all the other wars combined. Brother fought brother. Each side believed they were in the right. Our constitution was put to the test. Are all men created equal no matter his color? Again, thanks to men willing to lay down their lives for the freedom of others, that questioned was answered with a resounding Yes!
Irony is a funny thing. In the early 20th century, Germany declared war on the world. Old grudges were momentarily laid aside and the United States of America came to the aid of all European countries and fought for their freedom. This action was repeated when Hitler took control of Germany and declared war on the world for a second time. The United States was understandably leery of joining, but did so enthusiastically when Japan sucker-punched us on December 7, 1941. Try as they might though, they were unable to defend against the countless numbers of men and women who heeded the call for soldiers to fight for freedom. So many of that generation went willingly into battle, knowing the likelihood of their own return home was not great, but doing it anyway. They knew that freedom isn't free and were willing to pay the price. Many of them did.
Our country has fought for others freedoms many times since then. My grandfather fought in Korea with the Marine Corps. We fought for the South Vietnamese. We fought for the Iraqis twice. Seeing a pattern?
Our country and our people are the home of the free BECAUSE of the brave. Men and women of valor have stood up to tyranny and injustice and fought back and won on countless occasions. Think about that the next time you see a flag waving or sing the national anthem.
The Star-Spangled Banner Verse 3:
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Modesty
Ok. So, I am more than positive that most of anyone who read last weeks blog didn't really agree with what I said. I'm ok with that. Mostly because I don't think I explained myself very well. I think that regularly of my posts here. This week is, I think, a little more straightforward.
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Birth Mother's Day
Normally for these posts, I have a hard time deciding what to write about. Today...not so much. It's an important weekend for mothers everywhere. It is the first full weekend of May which means Mother's Day is tomorrow. Normally, you'd think that's what I would write about. While I have full intentions of writing about it tomorrow, There's an important topic for discussion today. Not many people are aware of it, but the day before Mother's Day has been designated in recent years as Birth Mother's Day.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Communication
Epic fail for me. I started writing this post twice about two different subjects in the last two weeks and I didn't post either of them. I guess I was just waiting for something to really click. Hopefully I can pull it off this week.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
- In 1900, telephones were scarce. It had been invented almost 30 years earlier, but phone lines didn't stretch the continent like they do now. They were becoming more prominent in major cities, but communication was still dependent on face to face and letter carriers.
- In 1915, Alexander Graham Bell made the first trans-continental phone call from New York to San Fransisco.
- In 1942, the first electronic digital computer was built by John Atanasoff and Clifford Berry
- In 1947, AT&T developed the North American Numbering Plan that assigned phone numbers to individuals. Meaning that was the birth of the 10-digit phone number.
- Also in 1947, the first mobile phones were invented though not sold commercially.
- In 1956, the first computer hard disk was used.
- In 1958, the computer modem was invented. That same year saw the invention of the integrated circuit.
- In 1959, Jack Kilby and Robert Noyce both invented the microchip.
- In 1962, Spacewar became the first computer video game invented.
- 1968 saw the invention of the first computer mouse by Douglas Engelbart, the first computer with integrated circuits, and random access memory (RAM) by Robert Dennard.
- In 1969, we saw the beginnings of the massive outlet that is the Internet in arpanet.
- In the 70's, we were given the floppy disk by Alan Shugart, the word processor, Pong the video game, the Ethernet cable by Robert Metcalfe and Xerox, cell phones and the cray supercomputer by Seymour Cray.
- Here's the list of advances in the 80's: MS-DOS and the IBM-PC were '81, The Apple Lisa in '83, the CD-ROM and the Apple Macintosh in '84, Windows by Microsoft in '85, and digital cell phones in '88.
- And finally, the '90's and 2000's: the World Wide Web, Internet protocol (HTTP), and WWW language (HTML) were created by Tim Berners-Lee in 1990; the first text message was sent in '92; the Pentium processor was invented in '93; the Java computer language and DVD were invented in '95. ; Web TV was '96; 2001 saw the creation of the iPod; Phone tooth by James Auger and Jimmy Loizeau came in 2002; Facebook by Mark Zuckerberg and Intel Express Chips were 2004; YouTube by Steve Chen, Chad Hurley, and Jawed Karim came into being in 2005;
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Planned Parenthood
I almost started this blog with an apology...but I can't do it. Being someone who's been in a situation that might use Planned Parenthood, I refuse to apologize for my opinion.
I try to keep my blog away from anything political. I do not like discussing politics with anyone. I've been in a few arguments about it and it never ends well. That's partly because I don't "debate" well, but that's beside the point. In my opinion, discussing politics with people you care about will turn into fighting about politics with people you used to care about and currently won't talk to anymore. I have plenty of other ways and reasons for people to stop talking to me. Talking about politics is not going to be one because there's not a whole lot I can realistically do about it right now. With all of that being said...I have to talk about it this week.
As I just said, politics is dumb in any setting. In the office, in the government, in a circle of friends; anywhere. I know you can't really have a government without politics, but whatever. Humor me. This week, our government was facing a possibility of a shut down. Unless you've had your head buried in the sand or you just don't like paying attention to the news, you will know that the reason is because the big government Dems and the spinning out of control GOP could not agree on a budget. The budget for our government was supposed to be done in OCTOBER 2010! What month are we on?? Oh yeah. April 2011. Seriously?!
Now, this post is not so much about the outrage that is surrounding the dummies sitting in seats of power...yes, all of them. This is more about the pet project the Dems refused to cut funding for: Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood is a clinic that caters to lower income individuals. It helps women who can't afford insurance get the health care they need. There's a bunch of problems with that statement, but that's not what I want to focus on. Planned Parenthood is funded by the government. It is also the leading provider of abortions.
I fully admit that in my research, I've found that none of the funding from the government is allowed to go to abortions. At least, it's not supposed to go to abortions. First of all, who's monitoring where that funding is being distributed and what it's being used for? Are you seriously trying to tell me that in the 235 years since the Constitution was signed and independence was declared and claimed for this country that no one has found a way to creatively describe something on a piece of paper in order to make it appear to be what it isn't? Cause if you are...you're dumb.
I've been doing some research since I found out that this was one of the hang-ups for the budget decision. In 2010 alone, Planned Parenthood reported that it performed 330,000 abortions last year. It's defense was that it was 3% of it's total health care services. That's 3% too much. In contrast, Planned Parenthood reported that their doctors and nurses conduct 1 million screenings for cervical cancer, over 800,000 breast exams, and upwards of 4 million tests and treatments for STD's. While those are all well and good, it's the 3% that I'm concerned about.
Abortion is a tough subject to discuss because it is such a hot topic. For me, abortion is not something that should be considered for anyone but a rape victim. That would be the only reason an abortion should be performed and even then that's not something I would consider lightly. The democrats, and yes most of the ones raising a stink about it are women, are claiming that by cutting the funding for Planned Parenthood the Republicans are trying to "sock it to women". Thank you Senator Feinstein from California for opening your big mouth and rolling your brain around on the table. Guess what. You're dumb.
I am a birth mother. That's not something I recall openly admitting on this blog before, so I'm doing it now. I placed my child in the care of someone more fit to care for her than I was at the time. I did it because it was what my daughter deserved. There are so many families who can't have children who would love to adopt any one of those 330,000 babies who were killed last year. There are so many families who are waiting to love a child that never get an opportunity because the process is so difficult and girls are either single parenting or aborting pregnancies.
I know that a lot of women would say, "It's my body. I should be able to choose what happens to it." My answer to that? DON'T SLEEP AROUND AND GET PREGNANT IN THE FIRST PLACE!! There is an easy solution to the problem of getting pregnant! Hey! I've solved half of the abortions! I'm such a genius. If you don't want a child, do something constructive with your life. There is a reason the institution of marriage was created. It's hard to have faith in it with so many failing anymore...but that doesn't change the fact that every child deserves a chance to live and they deserve a mom and a dad.
It angers me when I see women trying to use the excuse that they're denying us our rights as women. That excuse doesn't fly. An abortion is murder. There is no easy or simple way around that and there is no other way of seeing it. You are killing a child. You are destroying a person who can't defend himself/herself. How is it okay to justify it by saying "It's my body."? I don't understand that mentality. Women are born with mothering tendencies. We are supposed to be the mother. Do I think that means we need to stay in a kitchen all day? Try and tell me to. See how nice that shiner I give you looks in the mirror. It is in our nature to nurture and love in a way men don't. How can anyone justify murdering an innocent child?
Adoption is something I am passionate about and I am more than happy to discuss it with anyone. That part of my life is something I'm not afraid of sharing. It is, unfortunately, also something that's considered taboo. Adoption is looked down upon to this day more than abortion is. People say it's baby farming. People look down on women like me who've given their children to someone else to raise because they think we're taking the easy way out. I wish I could hit every person who ever told any woman who'd placed her child in another woman's arms that she was taking the easy way out. Adoption isn't a bad thing. You are giving the gift of life not only to a beautiful baby, but to a family who may not necessarily be able to have their own. How is that more unnatural or more selfish than abortion?
I've already gotten too passionate about this and am more long winded than I wanted to be, so I'll close with this. Having a child is not something everyone is born prepared to do. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. There are alternatives to abortion. Try putting the funding towards helping people who have earned the assistance instead of to legalized murder. Consider this: What if your parents had decided to abort you?
I try to keep my blog away from anything political. I do not like discussing politics with anyone. I've been in a few arguments about it and it never ends well. That's partly because I don't "debate" well, but that's beside the point. In my opinion, discussing politics with people you care about will turn into fighting about politics with people you used to care about and currently won't talk to anymore. I have plenty of other ways and reasons for people to stop talking to me. Talking about politics is not going to be one because there's not a whole lot I can realistically do about it right now. With all of that being said...I have to talk about it this week.
As I just said, politics is dumb in any setting. In the office, in the government, in a circle of friends; anywhere. I know you can't really have a government without politics, but whatever. Humor me. This week, our government was facing a possibility of a shut down. Unless you've had your head buried in the sand or you just don't like paying attention to the news, you will know that the reason is because the big government Dems and the spinning out of control GOP could not agree on a budget. The budget for our government was supposed to be done in OCTOBER 2010! What month are we on?? Oh yeah. April 2011. Seriously?!
Now, this post is not so much about the outrage that is surrounding the dummies sitting in seats of power...yes, all of them. This is more about the pet project the Dems refused to cut funding for: Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood is a clinic that caters to lower income individuals. It helps women who can't afford insurance get the health care they need. There's a bunch of problems with that statement, but that's not what I want to focus on. Planned Parenthood is funded by the government. It is also the leading provider of abortions.
I fully admit that in my research, I've found that none of the funding from the government is allowed to go to abortions. At least, it's not supposed to go to abortions. First of all, who's monitoring where that funding is being distributed and what it's being used for? Are you seriously trying to tell me that in the 235 years since the Constitution was signed and independence was declared and claimed for this country that no one has found a way to creatively describe something on a piece of paper in order to make it appear to be what it isn't? Cause if you are...you're dumb.
I've been doing some research since I found out that this was one of the hang-ups for the budget decision. In 2010 alone, Planned Parenthood reported that it performed 330,000 abortions last year. It's defense was that it was 3% of it's total health care services. That's 3% too much. In contrast, Planned Parenthood reported that their doctors and nurses conduct 1 million screenings for cervical cancer, over 800,000 breast exams, and upwards of 4 million tests and treatments for STD's. While those are all well and good, it's the 3% that I'm concerned about.
Abortion is a tough subject to discuss because it is such a hot topic. For me, abortion is not something that should be considered for anyone but a rape victim. That would be the only reason an abortion should be performed and even then that's not something I would consider lightly. The democrats, and yes most of the ones raising a stink about it are women, are claiming that by cutting the funding for Planned Parenthood the Republicans are trying to "sock it to women". Thank you Senator Feinstein from California for opening your big mouth and rolling your brain around on the table. Guess what. You're dumb.
I am a birth mother. That's not something I recall openly admitting on this blog before, so I'm doing it now. I placed my child in the care of someone more fit to care for her than I was at the time. I did it because it was what my daughter deserved. There are so many families who can't have children who would love to adopt any one of those 330,000 babies who were killed last year. There are so many families who are waiting to love a child that never get an opportunity because the process is so difficult and girls are either single parenting or aborting pregnancies.
I know that a lot of women would say, "It's my body. I should be able to choose what happens to it." My answer to that? DON'T SLEEP AROUND AND GET PREGNANT IN THE FIRST PLACE!! There is an easy solution to the problem of getting pregnant! Hey! I've solved half of the abortions! I'm such a genius. If you don't want a child, do something constructive with your life. There is a reason the institution of marriage was created. It's hard to have faith in it with so many failing anymore...but that doesn't change the fact that every child deserves a chance to live and they deserve a mom and a dad.
It angers me when I see women trying to use the excuse that they're denying us our rights as women. That excuse doesn't fly. An abortion is murder. There is no easy or simple way around that and there is no other way of seeing it. You are killing a child. You are destroying a person who can't defend himself/herself. How is it okay to justify it by saying "It's my body."? I don't understand that mentality. Women are born with mothering tendencies. We are supposed to be the mother. Do I think that means we need to stay in a kitchen all day? Try and tell me to. See how nice that shiner I give you looks in the mirror. It is in our nature to nurture and love in a way men don't. How can anyone justify murdering an innocent child?
Adoption is something I am passionate about and I am more than happy to discuss it with anyone. That part of my life is something I'm not afraid of sharing. It is, unfortunately, also something that's considered taboo. Adoption is looked down upon to this day more than abortion is. People say it's baby farming. People look down on women like me who've given their children to someone else to raise because they think we're taking the easy way out. I wish I could hit every person who ever told any woman who'd placed her child in another woman's arms that she was taking the easy way out. Adoption isn't a bad thing. You are giving the gift of life not only to a beautiful baby, but to a family who may not necessarily be able to have their own. How is that more unnatural or more selfish than abortion?
I've already gotten too passionate about this and am more long winded than I wanted to be, so I'll close with this. Having a child is not something everyone is born prepared to do. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. There are alternatives to abortion. Try putting the funding towards helping people who have earned the assistance instead of to legalized murder. Consider this: What if your parents had decided to abort you?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Mysteries of Women
I had a conversation with my brothers yesterday that was interesting. When they get started on something, they are ridiculously hilarious and I spend a lot of my time trying not to laugh out loud. Yesterday, I have no idea how we got on the subject, but the conversation started with Remi saying something about Stephane making out during Bible Study or Scripture Study. Most of it was funny. Like I said, when they get goin on something, you have to be quick to get a word in cause they're so back in forth you'll be left in New Mexico while they're already in Georgia. With the Scripture Study/Make-out session argument, they were jokingly accusing each other of misrepresenting their intentions when they go do something with a girl. Then it got to the horrible movies and what they're really made for...and then came the crazy ways of the female race.
I know at least one brother will read this, and I hope he doesn't think that I was offended by anything they said. I'm truly not. I think it's funny when the genders try to unravel the mysteries surrounding each other. While they were bantering back and forth and insisting that most girls are crazy and ridiculous with their default/reset buttons, I felt like this was a good topic for me to blog on.
Let me first tell you that debating with Remi is impossible. He's very, very good...and it's usually very humorous. At least, it's humorous on his part. I've never liked getting in serious arguments with him because I never win. I think there was a little bit of truth to what he was saying yesterday, because I've been in legitimate arguments with him about it. Here's the disclaimer for this blog: My brothers are wonderful men. They have been raised to be gentlemen and would never treat any woman as anything but royalty as long as she acted like she deserved it. What they said was in fun. I'm the one being serious.
Again, this all started because of a discussion about making out. The point was made that it would be so much nicer if people would just say what their intentions are instead of playing the games that come with dating. Then it was countered with that just means we're being honest about using each other. Someone said that's like giving away the end of a book or movie. It takes the fun out of dating. Then someone said that the only reason a guy invites a girl to watch a movie, and I'm adding "by themselves", is to get something to happen and that he's a master of disguise as this means he's using her anyway. I definitely chimed in saying that no girl goes to "watch a movie" without knowing the possibility of "something happening" is there. That started the argument that the mind games girls play are endless and ridiculous, which I agree with...the ridiculous part I mean. So...I guess this is where I want to start laying things out for you.
I've been friends with so many different personalities in both men and women, and what I've learned is this: Some women are very complicated, others are less so. The same is true for men. That's really the only general statement you can make. Here's why I say that: Just because one woman is similar in looks, habits, and even personality to another woman, it does not mean that she will react the same way to anything.
The very bottom line that we build our opinions upon is that no matter how similar we are, we are unique. I had a discussion with someone the other day about how there really is no normal. There's only the socially acceptable and those that have a harder time being socially acceptable. That's a whole different topic for conversation. My point is that you can't make statements about an entire gender because no one but God knows every person. You can make conclusions based on what you've experienced and adjust your own behavior accordingly, but it is unfair to both sexes to make general statements about anything except what is physically gender specific. Even then, with the weirdness that is in this world, sometimes that is called into question.
So, how do you deal with the crazies? The first thing you have to understand, with women at least, is that for most women, the craziness fades. With age and maturity, the mind games become less. Just like with men, the older a woman gets and the more life experiences she has, the more she knows what she wants. A girl who has had no life experiences, just like a guy, is less sure of what she wants and is therefore more prone to do things that make her seem crazy because she doesn't really know better.
The second thing you have to understand is that the thing that drives most women, again you can't really make that much of a general statement, is a need to be loved. I don't know where it comes from or why it is so strong in some people and matters so little to others, but I believe that the desire for someone to love who we are just because we are ourselves is what drives most people. From a very young age, most girls dream Disney Princess style dreams about love. We are filled with the hopes and fantasies that come with grand adventures and a handsome prince to carry us off on his horse back to his castle. "And they lived happily ever after" is something we just know will happen to us. We are too young and too naive to know much of anything about the real world and how it works. Though we eventually are introduced to a much harsher reality, that hope and that dream of our own happily ever after never really goes away.
I think we, as girls, begin to realize our lives won't be filled with that type of adventure, sunsets, and Prince Charming when we start to notice each other as possible Prince Charming's and Snow White's. The trigger for noticing how different our lives will be from the fairy tale stories? Hurt feelings. A broken heart. When I say life experiences, I mean we find out the hard way.
We are cruel to each other. I think men feel the same way girls do for a lot of things. I don't think they want love any less than girls do, despite what the macho way of thinking tells them to say. People become crazy because we make each other that way. I can guarantee you that if I say, "Think about a friend of the opposite sex that you knew in elementary school", you will think, "Yeah. He/She was really cool in elementary school. What happened?". Now think about what I said about doing this to each other.
We become aware of each other as boys and girls in middle school. That's when we first begin to "date" and like each other as more than friends. We don't really know what that means, but we like thinking we're special to someone. When that ends in anything but happily ever after, feelings get hurt. I don't care who you are or what you tell me. If you are broken up with, you're gonna be hurt. That teaches us something. We learn that life isn't like the stories all the time. We learn to be more careful and to guard the thing we cherish the most...our hearts and dreams. The catch is learning to let go.
Here's where I draw on my own experiences. I will be the first to admit that I have been known to be crazy occasionally. I've literally been told I'm the not good kind of crazy more than once. During middle school and high school, I did a lot of dumb things that I cringe to think about now. Even in my later teens and early twenties, I didn't really know how to be a sane girl. It took a life experience and a lot of focusing on being someone I liked to change that. I still have my crazy days, but I've learned how to be sane the rest of the time. I bring this up because if I can do it, so can every other girl that doesn't have legitimate mental problems that require medication.
As people, we are capable of being both incredibly kind and incredibly cruel to one another. I've had both. We become who we are by reacting to influences around us. I think that everything that ever occurs in our lives has a result that directly impacts how we think, how we act, and how we treat each other. When I'm hurting, my reaction is to crawl into my bed and cry until I feel better. I've seen people that hurt lash out at other people so someone else is hurting with them. I've been known to do that too. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't do that. I am always able to choose not to react that way. As a child, I was less able to control my reactions and more prone to allow the bursts of emotion that generally go with the crazy rule how I acted. As an adult, I'm more able to control how I react, but I will always have bouts of crazy. I believe that it's part of who we are.
We are alive to learn. We are born into this world with no cares. As we grow, our cares become like those of Atlas. Our own lives become the weight of the world to each of us. Even Atlas didn't want to bear the weight of the world. We weren't meant to know how to be perfect human beings from infancy. We are here to learn how to be better, do better, and treat others the way we wish to be treated. The mysteries of each gender are not so mysterious. Guys, women are much less complicated when you understand that there are extenuating circumstances and she wants to be loved just like you. Ladies, guys are not the devil. Just because you've had bad experiences with a couple of creeps, who probably were looking for someone to love them too by the way, it does not mean that every other man on this earth is a creep too. People are generally good. You just have to be able to see it and take that chance.
If she is legitimately crazy...refer her to a doctor who can prescribe meds and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. While I understand legitimately medication-needing-crazy women, even I don't want to deal with their drama. :/
I know at least one brother will read this, and I hope he doesn't think that I was offended by anything they said. I'm truly not. I think it's funny when the genders try to unravel the mysteries surrounding each other. While they were bantering back and forth and insisting that most girls are crazy and ridiculous with their default/reset buttons, I felt like this was a good topic for me to blog on.
Let me first tell you that debating with Remi is impossible. He's very, very good...and it's usually very humorous. At least, it's humorous on his part. I've never liked getting in serious arguments with him because I never win. I think there was a little bit of truth to what he was saying yesterday, because I've been in legitimate arguments with him about it. Here's the disclaimer for this blog: My brothers are wonderful men. They have been raised to be gentlemen and would never treat any woman as anything but royalty as long as she acted like she deserved it. What they said was in fun. I'm the one being serious.
Again, this all started because of a discussion about making out. The point was made that it would be so much nicer if people would just say what their intentions are instead of playing the games that come with dating. Then it was countered with that just means we're being honest about using each other. Someone said that's like giving away the end of a book or movie. It takes the fun out of dating. Then someone said that the only reason a guy invites a girl to watch a movie, and I'm adding "by themselves", is to get something to happen and that he's a master of disguise as this means he's using her anyway. I definitely chimed in saying that no girl goes to "watch a movie" without knowing the possibility of "something happening" is there. That started the argument that the mind games girls play are endless and ridiculous, which I agree with...the ridiculous part I mean. So...I guess this is where I want to start laying things out for you.
I've been friends with so many different personalities in both men and women, and what I've learned is this: Some women are very complicated, others are less so. The same is true for men. That's really the only general statement you can make. Here's why I say that: Just because one woman is similar in looks, habits, and even personality to another woman, it does not mean that she will react the same way to anything.
The very bottom line that we build our opinions upon is that no matter how similar we are, we are unique. I had a discussion with someone the other day about how there really is no normal. There's only the socially acceptable and those that have a harder time being socially acceptable. That's a whole different topic for conversation. My point is that you can't make statements about an entire gender because no one but God knows every person. You can make conclusions based on what you've experienced and adjust your own behavior accordingly, but it is unfair to both sexes to make general statements about anything except what is physically gender specific. Even then, with the weirdness that is in this world, sometimes that is called into question.
So, how do you deal with the crazies? The first thing you have to understand, with women at least, is that for most women, the craziness fades. With age and maturity, the mind games become less. Just like with men, the older a woman gets and the more life experiences she has, the more she knows what she wants. A girl who has had no life experiences, just like a guy, is less sure of what she wants and is therefore more prone to do things that make her seem crazy because she doesn't really know better.
The second thing you have to understand is that the thing that drives most women, again you can't really make that much of a general statement, is a need to be loved. I don't know where it comes from or why it is so strong in some people and matters so little to others, but I believe that the desire for someone to love who we are just because we are ourselves is what drives most people. From a very young age, most girls dream Disney Princess style dreams about love. We are filled with the hopes and fantasies that come with grand adventures and a handsome prince to carry us off on his horse back to his castle. "And they lived happily ever after" is something we just know will happen to us. We are too young and too naive to know much of anything about the real world and how it works. Though we eventually are introduced to a much harsher reality, that hope and that dream of our own happily ever after never really goes away.
I think we, as girls, begin to realize our lives won't be filled with that type of adventure, sunsets, and Prince Charming when we start to notice each other as possible Prince Charming's and Snow White's. The trigger for noticing how different our lives will be from the fairy tale stories? Hurt feelings. A broken heart. When I say life experiences, I mean we find out the hard way.
We are cruel to each other. I think men feel the same way girls do for a lot of things. I don't think they want love any less than girls do, despite what the macho way of thinking tells them to say. People become crazy because we make each other that way. I can guarantee you that if I say, "Think about a friend of the opposite sex that you knew in elementary school", you will think, "Yeah. He/She was really cool in elementary school. What happened?". Now think about what I said about doing this to each other.
We become aware of each other as boys and girls in middle school. That's when we first begin to "date" and like each other as more than friends. We don't really know what that means, but we like thinking we're special to someone. When that ends in anything but happily ever after, feelings get hurt. I don't care who you are or what you tell me. If you are broken up with, you're gonna be hurt. That teaches us something. We learn that life isn't like the stories all the time. We learn to be more careful and to guard the thing we cherish the most...our hearts and dreams. The catch is learning to let go.
Here's where I draw on my own experiences. I will be the first to admit that I have been known to be crazy occasionally. I've literally been told I'm the not good kind of crazy more than once. During middle school and high school, I did a lot of dumb things that I cringe to think about now. Even in my later teens and early twenties, I didn't really know how to be a sane girl. It took a life experience and a lot of focusing on being someone I liked to change that. I still have my crazy days, but I've learned how to be sane the rest of the time. I bring this up because if I can do it, so can every other girl that doesn't have legitimate mental problems that require medication.
As people, we are capable of being both incredibly kind and incredibly cruel to one another. I've had both. We become who we are by reacting to influences around us. I think that everything that ever occurs in our lives has a result that directly impacts how we think, how we act, and how we treat each other. When I'm hurting, my reaction is to crawl into my bed and cry until I feel better. I've seen people that hurt lash out at other people so someone else is hurting with them. I've been known to do that too. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't do that. I am always able to choose not to react that way. As a child, I was less able to control my reactions and more prone to allow the bursts of emotion that generally go with the crazy rule how I acted. As an adult, I'm more able to control how I react, but I will always have bouts of crazy. I believe that it's part of who we are.
We are alive to learn. We are born into this world with no cares. As we grow, our cares become like those of Atlas. Our own lives become the weight of the world to each of us. Even Atlas didn't want to bear the weight of the world. We weren't meant to know how to be perfect human beings from infancy. We are here to learn how to be better, do better, and treat others the way we wish to be treated. The mysteries of each gender are not so mysterious. Guys, women are much less complicated when you understand that there are extenuating circumstances and she wants to be loved just like you. Ladies, guys are not the devil. Just because you've had bad experiences with a couple of creeps, who probably were looking for someone to love them too by the way, it does not mean that every other man on this earth is a creep too. People are generally good. You just have to be able to see it and take that chance.
If she is legitimately crazy...refer her to a doctor who can prescribe meds and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. While I understand legitimately medication-needing-crazy women, even I don't want to deal with their drama. :/
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Entitlement 1.0
Ok. So, I guess I need to clarify what I was trying to say in last weeks post just a little bit. I was little all over the place in the way I was laying things out so it's no wonder some of what I said was less than understandable.
When I hear the word entitlement, I instantly think of a spoiled rotten child who thinks he deserves the world on a silver platter. In my mind, not even and king deserves that. My point in last weeks post is that if you want something, work for it. My generation is one of the least likely to work for something. We'd much rather sit back and wait for it to come to us.
The point was made when I posted this on Facebook that in the LDS church, we're taught that children are entitled to a married mother and father who honor those promises they made at marriage. I will tread delicately here as I think this is a bit of a difficult subject to discuss. No one who has not been in a situation that might require raising a child on their own can say that they know exactly how they would handle the situation were they not able to remain with their spouse/significant other. That's not saying that a child isn't entitled to a mom and a dad. I have my own opinions on that, but they will have to wait for another post. The point in this is that we are not the judges. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances that cannot be helped and a mother or a father who finds themselves in those situations need only answer to his/her own conscience and make peace with whatever God they believe in.
Now, in my original posting, I was pointing out two principles really: Work and gratitude, both of which seem to be slowly disappearing in todays youth. As one of todays youth, I can call on my own experiences here as I'm just as guilty as many of my fellow young adults and teenagers.
I think that if we were to live in any other time than now, we would not survive. All through history, we have examples of how empires were built, wars were fought, and freedoms were won. None of them has been a result of a get-rich-quick scheme. All life was based around work. The fields were sewn and cared for, cities were built, roads were paved, and lives were created by applying a little elbow grease. Once, most of this world was unexplored and new. There was a lot of work to be done. Maybe part of the reason we don't work as hard is because there aren't many new frontiers. There is no Dances with Wolves esque lifestyle for us to experience where we meet strange people we've never really seen before. We have reached a limit...unless we launch into a Star Trek lifestyle which I don't see happening anytime soon. I will admit that that may well be part of why we don't work as hard in the manual labor fields, but at the same time there is always work to do.
When I think of why the principle of work has changed, a story comes to mind. The story of John Henry. I know most of us are familiar with it, but I'll give a very short, probably not very accurate recap. John Henry was a man who worked on the railroad when it was being laid to cross the nation. He was a giant of a man. He worked harder and longer than any other man alive. He would go around singing and swinging his hammer, driving the spikes in faster and farther than any other man. Eventually, a man with a new invention came around looking for John Henry. He claimed he's steam driven machine could beat any man alive at driving a railroad spike into the ground, thus eliminating the need for the manual labor that John Henry loved doing. John Henry accepted the challenge. For the good of the men he worked with and for himself, John Henry worked hard to beat the steam powered hammer...and he did. The mountain of a man who drove steel harder and faster than any other man alive beat the machine that had been created to best him...only to die in his victory.
I tell that story because growing up, John Henry was a symbol to me of what it meant to work. I was fascinated by his story though no one ever really knew. He worked hard and long because he loved what he did and it had to be done. That fact has not changed and will never change...the work itself has just shifted.
I am a child of the late 80's/early 90's. I remember all the weird fashion and the sometimes waaaay over the top singers and cheesy movies. I remember when technology started changing. I remember our first computer way back in the day...boy was that thing basic. I remember the cell phones then. I don't know that I ever could have imagined them being what they are now. I don't have an appreciation for what life was like 20 years earlier just as children now don't have any idea what I'm talking about. They instead are taught that 4 year olds with cell phones is normal, or an xbox 360 is something every kid is supposed to have. That may not be something a parent comes out and says, but actions will always speak louder than words.
In my last post, I said that parents are responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. What I meant was that children watch us. They mimic everyone. My nephew, for instance, has taken to repeating the word Goonies every time we say it. I'm sure my brother will teach him the whole phrase the Goonies say. See the point though? If he mimics what we say now, at a year and a half, how much else is he watching us say and do? It is my brother and sister-in-laws responsibility to teach him not only through their words, but through their example. If he sees them working hard, he'll learn to work hard too. That is the case with every child. Every child is experiencing the world with a new perspective and they will do what those closest to them do. That is why, statistically, when a parent has trouble in their lives, a child is likely to repeat it. Therefore, a parent who is interested in the well being of their child is responsible for teaching their children to work for everything they have.
As I said in my last posting, my family works when we have big projects to do. We've done things like repainting our house, putting up a new fence, taking down backyard playground equipment, moving homes, weeding gardens, and doing general yard work. I should say that we were better at doing that before we grew up and our parents couldn't take away much of anything to threaten us anymore. When we were younger, anytime there was big project to do, we all helped. Now, the only time you really see us working together is when the cars need to be washed...and my dad did his truck almost completely by himself the other day. My mother mowed the lawn this morning because my brother and I didn't want to get up and take the mower away from her and do it for her.
My parents taught us how to work. They would work with us and show us how to do things. I don't remember them ever telling us we had work to do and then them not coming out and working with us. That's not the norm anymore. Now, we tell ourselves that we won't be as mean and cruel as our parents were and we won't force our own children to suffer the way we did. How, in the name of everything that is good on this earth, is working suffering?? When did it become so wrong to teach a child that working is the best way to get what you need? When did it become such a horrible thing to do manual labor? How have we forgotten the benefits and the rewards that come from accomplishing a seemingly giant job? Why is it so much better to give a child what he wants simply because he's screaming for it, rather than teach him how he can earn it?
I don't know where the disconnect happened. I don't know how we've gone from a people who worked hard for everything they had, to a people who are headed to a fate like the people in Wall-E. I don't know how that happened. I do know how to fix it. Work. Work will cure a great many things. It lifts the heart that has been damaged and helps others with what they need. The end reward, the knowledge that you did everything you could to accomplish what you needed to and the strength to push through one more day, is more than enough for me. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
When I hear the word entitlement, I instantly think of a spoiled rotten child who thinks he deserves the world on a silver platter. In my mind, not even and king deserves that. My point in last weeks post is that if you want something, work for it. My generation is one of the least likely to work for something. We'd much rather sit back and wait for it to come to us.
The point was made when I posted this on Facebook that in the LDS church, we're taught that children are entitled to a married mother and father who honor those promises they made at marriage. I will tread delicately here as I think this is a bit of a difficult subject to discuss. No one who has not been in a situation that might require raising a child on their own can say that they know exactly how they would handle the situation were they not able to remain with their spouse/significant other. That's not saying that a child isn't entitled to a mom and a dad. I have my own opinions on that, but they will have to wait for another post. The point in this is that we are not the judges. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances that cannot be helped and a mother or a father who finds themselves in those situations need only answer to his/her own conscience and make peace with whatever God they believe in.
Now, in my original posting, I was pointing out two principles really: Work and gratitude, both of which seem to be slowly disappearing in todays youth. As one of todays youth, I can call on my own experiences here as I'm just as guilty as many of my fellow young adults and teenagers.
I think that if we were to live in any other time than now, we would not survive. All through history, we have examples of how empires were built, wars were fought, and freedoms were won. None of them has been a result of a get-rich-quick scheme. All life was based around work. The fields were sewn and cared for, cities were built, roads were paved, and lives were created by applying a little elbow grease. Once, most of this world was unexplored and new. There was a lot of work to be done. Maybe part of the reason we don't work as hard is because there aren't many new frontiers. There is no Dances with Wolves esque lifestyle for us to experience where we meet strange people we've never really seen before. We have reached a limit...unless we launch into a Star Trek lifestyle which I don't see happening anytime soon. I will admit that that may well be part of why we don't work as hard in the manual labor fields, but at the same time there is always work to do.
When I think of why the principle of work has changed, a story comes to mind. The story of John Henry. I know most of us are familiar with it, but I'll give a very short, probably not very accurate recap. John Henry was a man who worked on the railroad when it was being laid to cross the nation. He was a giant of a man. He worked harder and longer than any other man alive. He would go around singing and swinging his hammer, driving the spikes in faster and farther than any other man. Eventually, a man with a new invention came around looking for John Henry. He claimed he's steam driven machine could beat any man alive at driving a railroad spike into the ground, thus eliminating the need for the manual labor that John Henry loved doing. John Henry accepted the challenge. For the good of the men he worked with and for himself, John Henry worked hard to beat the steam powered hammer...and he did. The mountain of a man who drove steel harder and faster than any other man alive beat the machine that had been created to best him...only to die in his victory.
I tell that story because growing up, John Henry was a symbol to me of what it meant to work. I was fascinated by his story though no one ever really knew. He worked hard and long because he loved what he did and it had to be done. That fact has not changed and will never change...the work itself has just shifted.
I am a child of the late 80's/early 90's. I remember all the weird fashion and the sometimes waaaay over the top singers and cheesy movies. I remember when technology started changing. I remember our first computer way back in the day...boy was that thing basic. I remember the cell phones then. I don't know that I ever could have imagined them being what they are now. I don't have an appreciation for what life was like 20 years earlier just as children now don't have any idea what I'm talking about. They instead are taught that 4 year olds with cell phones is normal, or an xbox 360 is something every kid is supposed to have. That may not be something a parent comes out and says, but actions will always speak louder than words.
In my last post, I said that parents are responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. What I meant was that children watch us. They mimic everyone. My nephew, for instance, has taken to repeating the word Goonies every time we say it. I'm sure my brother will teach him the whole phrase the Goonies say. See the point though? If he mimics what we say now, at a year and a half, how much else is he watching us say and do? It is my brother and sister-in-laws responsibility to teach him not only through their words, but through their example. If he sees them working hard, he'll learn to work hard too. That is the case with every child. Every child is experiencing the world with a new perspective and they will do what those closest to them do. That is why, statistically, when a parent has trouble in their lives, a child is likely to repeat it. Therefore, a parent who is interested in the well being of their child is responsible for teaching their children to work for everything they have.
As I said in my last posting, my family works when we have big projects to do. We've done things like repainting our house, putting up a new fence, taking down backyard playground equipment, moving homes, weeding gardens, and doing general yard work. I should say that we were better at doing that before we grew up and our parents couldn't take away much of anything to threaten us anymore. When we were younger, anytime there was big project to do, we all helped. Now, the only time you really see us working together is when the cars need to be washed...and my dad did his truck almost completely by himself the other day. My mother mowed the lawn this morning because my brother and I didn't want to get up and take the mower away from her and do it for her.
My parents taught us how to work. They would work with us and show us how to do things. I don't remember them ever telling us we had work to do and then them not coming out and working with us. That's not the norm anymore. Now, we tell ourselves that we won't be as mean and cruel as our parents were and we won't force our own children to suffer the way we did. How, in the name of everything that is good on this earth, is working suffering?? When did it become so wrong to teach a child that working is the best way to get what you need? When did it become such a horrible thing to do manual labor? How have we forgotten the benefits and the rewards that come from accomplishing a seemingly giant job? Why is it so much better to give a child what he wants simply because he's screaming for it, rather than teach him how he can earn it?
I don't know where the disconnect happened. I don't know how we've gone from a people who worked hard for everything they had, to a people who are headed to a fate like the people in Wall-E. I don't know how that happened. I do know how to fix it. Work. Work will cure a great many things. It lifts the heart that has been damaged and helps others with what they need. The end reward, the knowledge that you did everything you could to accomplish what you needed to and the strength to push through one more day, is more than enough for me. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
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