I Don't Want To Be Friends, part 2

It's not just politics or who won the presidency that has left me so disappointed and disillusioned today. I haven't "unfriended" people over bitterness that my candidate lost.

What hurts the most is that so many people in this country have chosen to go against everything that we stand for. How can you teach your children that being a bully is wrong when you elected one? How can you say you want to defend the constitution when you elected someone who would dismantle the first amendment if given half a chance? How can you tell me you love and care about me when you chose someone who bragged about sexually assaulting women; who calls women who disagree with him disgusting pigs; who wants to deny women the right to make decisions about their own bodies; you talk about following the rules and pulling your own weight and yet this man hasn't paid taxes in decades. You speak of respecting our veterans, and this man has mocked POWs, glorified war crimes, dodged the draft, and disparaged a gold star family. He's someone who wants to deny equal rights to just about every one who isn't rich, white, straight, male, and over a certain age.

Yes this is one man, but you chose him. You feel this person is fit to be the leader of the free world. If these are values that you hold, that you agree with, that you feel are not a big deal... It's not that I don't want to be friends because Trump is a bombastic asshole, it's because you are.

Here's the thing about heroes....

They come in all shapes and sizes, all colors, all walks of life, they wear different colored capes, and some don't wear capes at all.

Someone may think that Derek Jeter is their hero, while another person thinks that professional athletes are overpaid children playing games for money.  It doesn't make one person's view of Jeter more or less valid, it's just highly subjective.

That's why people getting mad at Caitlyn Jenner being honored as a hero instead of someone else who is "more deserving" irks me.  Is Caitlyn my personal hero? Eh... I think that her decision to transition late in life is brave and scary and that she can be a role model to so many people who just want to be themselves instead of pretending to be what society wants them to be, but I won't be dedicating a shrine to her in my living room... that space is reserved for Kelly Slater... I kid, I kid.

I think you can have multiple heroes, and they can range from someone who lives down the hall to someone on the moon.  If someone inspires you to be a better person, if someone has done great works, if someone has beat all odds and succeeded when everyone thought they would fail... I have no problem calling them a hero.

I don't think that it's fair or reasonable to think that because you don't think someone has reached "hero status" that they can't be someone that other people look up to, or that heroes are mutually exclusive.  Like I can't think that an EMT is a hero because firefighters are the real heroes... that just seems silly.... or another example I can't think that both soldiers and pacifists can both be champions.  Soldiers fight to keep us safe and free, they put their lives in the line of fire so that people like me don't have to, and I love them for that, at the same time I wish that we didn't have to use fists or guns and could instead use our words to get to a more peaceful place in this world.

Maybe my hero is a recovered alcoholic... someone who had demons, fought them, and won, but still feels weak sometimes.  Maybe your hero is your 8 year old niece who can still laugh and smile even though she has cancer.  Perhaps your neighbor's hero is that nice lady who has outlived her entire family and still manages to not be bitter.  There is even the possibility that YOU could be someone else's hero.  Not everyone is strong all the time, and they shouldn't be expected to, even the bravest person occasionally needs a hug and a night light.

#YesAllWomen

This hashtag has been floating around the internet for the last week or so, since the tragedy in Isla Vista. It's become a forum for people to share their experiences, their support of each other, it scared a lot of people, but it also reassured many that they were not alone.

It blew my mind to read about things that had happened to friends and strangers, some of things people had experienced might have been something as mild and someone giving them a creepy once over to people being assaulted and left for dead, just for being born female. I got lost in the stories, I cried with my sisters of the world, I had gotten angry, and I grieved for what was lost.

Some people took offense to the trending topic, stating that #NotAllMen were monsters and it was unfair to paint such an ugly picture of their half of the human race. Some people thought it was fear mongering and was trying to turn woman into man-hating banshees.

I found that those arguments were derailing to the cause, that most rational people would understand that not all men were bad guys, and that while all women have probably experienced some sort of harassment, they aren't all victims. We don't all hate men. We aren't all walking around scared.

We are strong. We are survivors.

The louder we are, the more we break barriers, the more we become comfortable telling our stories, the better chance we have that our daughters, our nieces, our friends little girls won't have to share these experiences.  That they won't have to learn how not to get raped, that they won't have to clench their car keys in their fists while walking at night, that they won't be afraid to report the crimes against them, and that when they do report those crimes they will find justice.

This memorial weekend marked the 18 year disappearance of Cal Poly freshman Kristin Smart, they are no closer to solving her mystery than they were nearly two decades ago, the case is still open and still gathering dust.  When will her parents get the truth?  When do they get their closure?

When will all the people who have been ignored or neglected by the legal system get the justice they deserve?

We need to stand up and fight, we need to be heard, we need to be brave and cannot allow ourselves to be silenced by people who are afraid of our strength.

When Reality Checks Your Privilege

I want to say that last night I witnessed the worst display of parenting in my life... except that it would imply that some sort of parenting was involved.

Even as I write that it makes me wonder what these kids' lives are like, I just got a snapshot, I don't know what life is like at home for them, what their parents are like, or if they even have adults looking out for them in the slightest... if their parents have 3 jobs and are never home just to keep a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs, the children all seemed fairly clean (although they were in a swimming pool, so who really knows) and well fed, so at least they had that going for them.

I know these statements seem to start in the middle of a story that I haven't told yet, and I will get there, but those are the thoughts that are running through my mind presently.

Last night started like any other night might, a friend of mine texted me asking if I wanted to come over to hang out at the pool in her apartment complex. My only plans for the evening included drinking a beer and watching One Tree Hill reruns so I of course jumped at the chance to beat the heat at the pool. The original intent of the evening didn't include anything more than sitting on the pool deck with our feet/legs in the water, but after witnessing some abysmal swimming skills in the kids that surrounded us, we decided to suit up and school the youngsters (in the best, most patient, looking out for their best interests, not letting them drown in 3 feet of water manner)... also the cute 10 year olds had been cajoling us to get in and play for the better part of an hour.

So we helped the kids with their technique for awhile, then decided to get into the hot tub (it was getting cold outside, it was after 9pm at this time), and the kids followed us in like lost puppies. It was painfully obvious these kids were starved for positive adult attention... even while we were helping them with their swimming every once in awhile one of the boys would get a panicked look on his face and ask "Is this okay? Am I wrong?" it was heartbreaking. We talked about school, and how important it is to do homework and get good grades, and you could tell this was something new to these kids. They were so excited to talk about their accomplishments and dreams for the future, about who they wanted to be when they grew up, and if they should worry about finding a girlfriend now or wait until they're older (we advised that they wait).

As the minutes tick by we notice that no parents or even adults are showing up to pick up the kids as the pool is getting ready to close. One of the boys mentions that they all walk home to neighboring complexes, and one had quite a bit further to go alone (probably about a mile away, but it was late and not on the best side of town), my friend and I were horrified that someone would allow their 5th grader to not only go swimming without adult supervision (or stronger swimming skills) AND that they would allow them to walk home that late at night, we were slightly less horrified that it was close to 10 pm and he still hadn't done his homework (because honestly, his safety is more important than a spelling list). Then we were faced with a really tough decision. The boy asked us (strangers) to give him a ride home, normally he'd walk, but it was getting cold outside.

We didn't know what to do. We didn't want him to walk home without an adult, but it's inappropriate for adults to have strange children in their car. What would happen if for some reason we were pulled over and couldn't explain why he was there, or who he was for that matter. What if his parents saw him with us and were pissed off that we intervened. What if we let him walk home by himself and someone hurt him, kidnapped him, if he got lost didn't make it back to his house? In the end we were more concerned that something bad would happen to him if we let him walk by himself (even though he does it all the time and doesn't even know what a curfew is) than what might happen if someone saw him in the car.

My heart is still heavy 15+ hours later.

Reality hits hard.

I lived in that same complex (as the pool was, not that he lived in) when I was his age, 22 years ago. My mother would have NEVER allowed me to go to the pool unsupervised, and I was a fairly decent swimmer. She would have never let me out of her sight after dark. If she had to work late there was always someone to take care of me and make sure I was safe and warm.

I think I knew in the back of my mind that there were kids like these boys out there. That at a young age were basically on their own and dealing with life without supervision, but I hadn't really seen it in person... or maybe I never paid attention.  My mind was completely blown that there are people in this world who would be okay with their kids playing in a pool without a lifeguard, adult supervision, anyone with basic knowledge of CPR or First Aid, that they didn't know that there would be some one there to jump in and pull their kid out if he got into trouble. That they were okay with their kids in a swimming pool without really knowing how to swim. There was no one there to tell them that running on the slippery pool deck was dangerous, that diving into the shallow end of the pool could lead to catastrophic injuries, that it's not polite to splash strangers (okay this was the least of my worries, but in the beginning my biggest annoyance). These kids didn't even know there was anything wrong or (I hesitate to say) abnormal about the situation.

Looking back I realize that any time I ever felt like my mom was too strict, that I should have been allowed more freedom, more independence, any type of less involvement I WAS WRONG. She made rules and had expectations to keep me safe, smart, and on track to having a decent future. I never had to look to strangers for anything. I never felt unloved or unimportant. When I spoke to her she listened... and while like a lot of kids I was afraid of failure, it was because I didn't want to disappoint her because she believes in me, not because I thought that if I did something wrong that she wouldn't love me as much.

I may not have grown up in a mansion, but I always knew I was loved and well taken care of, that I never had to want for anything truly important, and that's really the biggest privilege of all...and I realize that it's incredibly sad that those things are a privilege and not a right of every child.