Context
I read an article from yesterday's Shreveport Times today. It may be at this link, or it may not, depending on how long they archive the material. The article concerned the murder of a local woman, Ashley Scott, by her husband in Tennessee. Here is a direct quote from this article:
"Stephens said there were signs of domestic violence -- Ashley would wear heavy makeup or high collars to hide bruises -- and concerns by faculty. But when he talked to Ashley, offering Employee Assistance Program help, she said, 'Everything will be OK.'
Said Stephens: 'I don't think anybody realized how bad it was, how bad it was getting.'
It was, Stephens now realizes in hindsight, 'this perfect facade of a relationship.'"
"Stephens" is the principal at the school where Mrs. Scott taught.
Commentary
I understand that Mr. Stephens is under an extraordinary amount of pressure, but I feel compelled to point out that although his first statement is likely factual, the second one is mistaken at best and the third one is an outright lie. If you see a woman dressing to cover the signs of spousal abuse, you know exactly how bad it is, and she and her husband are not maintaining anything resembling a perfect facade of a relationship.
So why say it? I think it's likely that Stephens has heard, possibly more than once, or maybe just in the privacy of his own head, this accusation: "if you knew what was going on, why didn't you stop it?" So he backs off, pretends he didn't know what was going on. It's a more palatable answer than what seems to be the truth, "she wouldn't let me."
I blame the afterschool specials. The media has done such a good job of convincing us that domestic violence is a simple situation involving one monster and one victim that we think curing the problem should be equally simple. Just walk away. Accept the help an outsider offers you.
But real life isn't like that. Abuse is only part of a relationship. It may be a constant part or an intermittent one, but it's still only one element. And the person who's being abused may not see it as important enough to outweigh all the other elements.
My father used to hit my mother. Not regularly, but certainly more than once. I know I just wrote that in a universally accessible blog, but up until this moment I have kept that information relatively close to the chest. My close friends know; I've told church groups I was close to, but I've never made a big announcement or been all crusady about it.
I think one of the reasons I'm reluctant to talk about it is because I'm wary of the oversimplifications. The stereotypes I'm accustomed to don't fit the situation. My mother was neither too stupid to know what was going on nor too helpless to walk away. She was a woman who weighed her alternatives and made her decisions. And forgive me for straying off the P.C. ranch, but she wasn't always particularly nice to my dad either.
The conditions did not match Ashley Scott's. My father never cut my mother off from her friend and relatives and her life was never in danger. But if I'm really, really honest, I have to admit that the two people I'm ashamed to have never discussed this with are my mother and my father. Would it have helped? Can a daughter actually say to her parents, "your relationship is really screwed up and I think you both could make better decisions"? They're both gone now so I'll never know.
And now Ashley Scott is gone as well and we're all left feeling like there's something more we could have done . . .
What did you see today?
2/18/2009
2/08/2009
I saw a group of unfaithful people
Context
I had a dream this morning. It started in a church. I was there with my husband and I had decided I wasn’t interested in the proceedings, so I went by myself to an area in the rear where the pews were turned backwards and I could hang out without really paying attention to what was going on.
After a time a woman rose up to speak to the church. She said that she and a group of others were going to leave the church, which was called Nassaret, because of its teachings. I was interested in this development, so I looked over the back of my pew to see the power point presentation she was doing.
She mentioned several offensive things that had been said at Nassaret, including that it was OK to look at nudity. None of the things she said were preachings that would bother me in a church, but even though I didn’t agree with her I remember admiring the zeal behind her words.
After a time I saw the separatist group again. They were readying a boat, so I guess they were planning a major geographic exodus, rather than just starting another church nearby. I met some of the other people involved in the movement, including a drummer who was playing some music for people to work by. Now that I’m awake and remembering this dream, I realize that the drummer was the administrator of a nursing home where I do some volunteer work.
Another period of time passed and as I was going down a street near my house I saw the drummer again, drumming between orange cones that had been set in the street to reserve the lane for her. I was dismayed because I realized this meant the group hadn’t separated themselves at all. Sure enough, following the cones I found that they were part of a fundraising effort and they led back to the boat the group had been preparing. There were tons of people on board, including all the separatists and all the people from Nassaret.
I found the woman who had started the movement and asked her what had happened. She said they had found out they didn’t really need to create a schism and everything was going to be all right. Suspicious, I asked who had told her so. She said, “He’s right here!” and took me into another room to meet him. “This is Senator [Something] Neutral.” As soon as I saw him my suspicions were concerned. He was a servant of the devil.
“Nice to see you again,” I said, putting out my hand to shake. He shook it and said, “likewise.” Then I said, “begone!” and he said a phrase I didn’t know, presumably “bite me” in some ancient language.
“Begone!” I said again, and he gave no response. “Do you really want me to say it a third time, with the puff of smoke and everything?” He shrugged.
“Begone!” I said and he did in fact disappear in a puff of smoke.
The former leader of the separatist group was appalled. “I’m going to have you put in jail!”
“Do it! For God’s sake!” I said this in anger, and then stopped because it seemed an inappropriate time to be using the Lord’s name in vain. Then I realized I really was speaking for God’s sake so it wasn’t in vain. I said it again, “For God’s sake!” A third time, and deadly serious. “For God’s sake, follow through on one thing you promise Him you’ll do!” Then I woke up.
Commentary
I believe this dream came from God so it doesn't require a lot of commentary, but I do have a couple of things to say.
It was a dream, so my conscious mind may have changed some aspects in order to make it work as a narrative. I do clearly remember the exchange with the Senator and the final thing I said to the woman is a verbatim transcription.
I don't know if this dream is for me or for someone else. I can't think of anything I've backslid on recently, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. If it is for you then I'm glad to have supplied it.
In Revelation 3:16 God says, "because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth."
What did you see today?
I had a dream this morning. It started in a church. I was there with my husband and I had decided I wasn’t interested in the proceedings, so I went by myself to an area in the rear where the pews were turned backwards and I could hang out without really paying attention to what was going on.
After a time a woman rose up to speak to the church. She said that she and a group of others were going to leave the church, which was called Nassaret, because of its teachings. I was interested in this development, so I looked over the back of my pew to see the power point presentation she was doing.
She mentioned several offensive things that had been said at Nassaret, including that it was OK to look at nudity. None of the things she said were preachings that would bother me in a church, but even though I didn’t agree with her I remember admiring the zeal behind her words.
After a time I saw the separatist group again. They were readying a boat, so I guess they were planning a major geographic exodus, rather than just starting another church nearby. I met some of the other people involved in the movement, including a drummer who was playing some music for people to work by. Now that I’m awake and remembering this dream, I realize that the drummer was the administrator of a nursing home where I do some volunteer work.
Another period of time passed and as I was going down a street near my house I saw the drummer again, drumming between orange cones that had been set in the street to reserve the lane for her. I was dismayed because I realized this meant the group hadn’t separated themselves at all. Sure enough, following the cones I found that they were part of a fundraising effort and they led back to the boat the group had been preparing. There were tons of people on board, including all the separatists and all the people from Nassaret.
I found the woman who had started the movement and asked her what had happened. She said they had found out they didn’t really need to create a schism and everything was going to be all right. Suspicious, I asked who had told her so. She said, “He’s right here!” and took me into another room to meet him. “This is Senator [Something] Neutral.” As soon as I saw him my suspicions were concerned. He was a servant of the devil.
“Nice to see you again,” I said, putting out my hand to shake. He shook it and said, “likewise.” Then I said, “begone!” and he said a phrase I didn’t know, presumably “bite me” in some ancient language.
“Begone!” I said again, and he gave no response. “Do you really want me to say it a third time, with the puff of smoke and everything?” He shrugged.
“Begone!” I said and he did in fact disappear in a puff of smoke.
The former leader of the separatist group was appalled. “I’m going to have you put in jail!”
“Do it! For God’s sake!” I said this in anger, and then stopped because it seemed an inappropriate time to be using the Lord’s name in vain. Then I realized I really was speaking for God’s sake so it wasn’t in vain. I said it again, “For God’s sake!” A third time, and deadly serious. “For God’s sake, follow through on one thing you promise Him you’ll do!” Then I woke up.
Commentary
I believe this dream came from God so it doesn't require a lot of commentary, but I do have a couple of things to say.
It was a dream, so my conscious mind may have changed some aspects in order to make it work as a narrative. I do clearly remember the exchange with the Senator and the final thing I said to the woman is a verbatim transcription.
I don't know if this dream is for me or for someone else. I can't think of anything I've backslid on recently, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. If it is for you then I'm glad to have supplied it.
In Revelation 3:16 God says, "because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth."
What did you see today?
2/02/2009
I saw a cartoon
Context
Carolyn Hax writes a daily advice column for the Washington Post called "Tell Me About It." It's a daily column, but the Shreveport Times only carries it on Sundays. Yesterday, they printed the Friday column, which you can find at this link (may require registration). The column usually has a cartoon, not done by Carolyn herself, that summarizes the problem being described.
Commentary
Yes, despite my stated objections to registering for the Washington Post, I actually broke down and did so for the purpose of bringing you the link posted above. I hope you're happy.
Actually, I'm happy because now that I've found out that Carolyn writes every day, I'll probably be reading her every day. I like advice columns in general and I'm particularly fond of Carolyn's because I think she takes a very straightforward approach to problem-solving.
But I wanted to talk about the cartoon. If you're not able to look at the link, you'll have to take my word for the fact that it seems to depict two African-American characters. Carolyn herself is European-American and I have no idea of the racial identity of the advice-seeker in question. In fact, the characters in the cartoons on Tell Me About It seem to regularly cycle through the physical characteristics of various races and that got me to wondering if that actually helps people of different ethnicities identify with the advice Carolyn gives.
To be fair, it seems to be a general assumption that we make. When deciding issues as varied as who to cast in a TV show and whether to celebrate Black History Month, some consideration is given to the idea that people need to see someone who looks like them in order to identify with them.
But is this really true? I don't think it is for me. I'm more likely to identify with someone who has the same personality characteristics I do than someone who looks like me. Here's an example: Stephen King's book The Stand has twelve main characters (and dozens of minor ones, but I digress), three of whom are female and to my very picky standards quite well-written. I don't identify with any of them. Instead I identify with three of the male characters, one because he's a constant screw-up (Peter is my patron saint), one because of the challenges he has to surmount to achieve his destiny, and one because he's an intellectual.
My Quaker meeting, which has no African-American attenders, invited several black women to come talk to us a couple of years ago about ending racism. What I remember most clearly from the discussion was one lady saying she was dismayed that teachers at her son's school thought he wouldn't be interested in certain activities because he'd be the only black kid in attendance. Since then I've resolved to never make assumptions about a person's preferences based on their physical appearance. There may be some cultural characteristics that many black people share, but I think we go seriously astray if we assert that all people with dark skin identify with all of them. Our choices aren't based on how we look; they're based on who we are.
What did you see today?
Carolyn Hax writes a daily advice column for the Washington Post called "Tell Me About It." It's a daily column, but the Shreveport Times only carries it on Sundays. Yesterday, they printed the Friday column, which you can find at this link (may require registration). The column usually has a cartoon, not done by Carolyn herself, that summarizes the problem being described.
Commentary
Yes, despite my stated objections to registering for the Washington Post, I actually broke down and did so for the purpose of bringing you the link posted above. I hope you're happy.
Actually, I'm happy because now that I've found out that Carolyn writes every day, I'll probably be reading her every day. I like advice columns in general and I'm particularly fond of Carolyn's because I think she takes a very straightforward approach to problem-solving.
But I wanted to talk about the cartoon. If you're not able to look at the link, you'll have to take my word for the fact that it seems to depict two African-American characters. Carolyn herself is European-American and I have no idea of the racial identity of the advice-seeker in question. In fact, the characters in the cartoons on Tell Me About It seem to regularly cycle through the physical characteristics of various races and that got me to wondering if that actually helps people of different ethnicities identify with the advice Carolyn gives.
To be fair, it seems to be a general assumption that we make. When deciding issues as varied as who to cast in a TV show and whether to celebrate Black History Month, some consideration is given to the idea that people need to see someone who looks like them in order to identify with them.
But is this really true? I don't think it is for me. I'm more likely to identify with someone who has the same personality characteristics I do than someone who looks like me. Here's an example: Stephen King's book The Stand has twelve main characters (and dozens of minor ones, but I digress), three of whom are female and to my very picky standards quite well-written. I don't identify with any of them. Instead I identify with three of the male characters, one because he's a constant screw-up (Peter is my patron saint), one because of the challenges he has to surmount to achieve his destiny, and one because he's an intellectual.
My Quaker meeting, which has no African-American attenders, invited several black women to come talk to us a couple of years ago about ending racism. What I remember most clearly from the discussion was one lady saying she was dismayed that teachers at her son's school thought he wouldn't be interested in certain activities because he'd be the only black kid in attendance. Since then I've resolved to never make assumptions about a person's preferences based on their physical appearance. There may be some cultural characteristics that many black people share, but I think we go seriously astray if we assert that all people with dark skin identify with all of them. Our choices aren't based on how we look; they're based on who we are.
What did you see today?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)