Context
I have a large amount of t-shirts. Since this is a wearable collection, I rotate them on a regular basis and usually wear whatever comes to the top of the pile. Today's selection was a shirt depicting Suicide Squid, the mascot for an old Usenet group named rec.arts.comics. You can find a picture of the shirt in question, plus a faux description of the character, here.
Commentary
Over the years I've become more aware of the sensitivities of others, so I've discarded some of my t-shirts that, while funny, could also be construed as insulting. Therefore, when I looked at the Suicide Squid this morning, with its depiction of seven methods of self-annihilation (It would be eight, but one of his tentacles is holding a knife while slitting the wrist[?] of another.), I thought about whether he should join his departed friends. After all, I can hear the reaction in my mind: "Suicide isn't funny!"
Actually, that's wrong. Anything, viewed from the proper perspective, is funny. In my opinion, you only have to look at a picture of an octopus sticking a knife in a toaster (C'mon, have you clicked on the link up in the Context yet?) to know that. Furthermore, although I take the pain that precedes a suicide attempt very seriously, I think poking some fun at the act itself might be beneficial.
It seems to me that one of the reasons some vulnerable populations like teenagers consider suicide is because it is serious. They think, "This, finally, is the thing that will make me worthy of people's attention." The movie Heathers, which takes on the unenviable task of making both suicide and homicide funny, shows this in a scene where a high school loser gets excoriated for trying to commit suicide, an activity which is apparently reserved for the cool kids.
Even Freddy Mercury took his potshots at the "that'll show 'em" aspect of suicide. He wrote a song for Queen that seemed like an effective deterrent to me when I was a teenager because it said this in a jaunty uptempo rhythm:
Don't try suicide; nobody's worth it.
Don't try suicide; nobody cares.
Don't try suicide; you're just gonna hate it.
Don't try suicide; nobody gives a damn!
In the end, that's why we make fun of dark subjects; it takes away a little bit of their power, their mystique. If wearing a t-shirt with a squid reading Kafka in order to off himself (Seriously, go look at the link!) reduces the allure of suicide even a little bit, my work is done.
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label appearance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label appearance. Show all posts
10/27/2012
8/28/2012
I saw a garden
Context
I was looking at pictures on the internet of people who have replaced their lawns with gardens and found a link to this story of a man who's been cited for having an educational garden instead of a lawn in front of his house because it's considered an eyesore. Wanting to see for myself, I found this picture of the garden in question.
Commentary
Does the garden in the link above look bad to you, like it would diminish property values in the neighborhood? It's OK; you can be honest. It does look a little odd, doesn't it? I mean, there's food growing right out there where everyone can see it!
It seems to me that Americans sometimes have a paradoxical relationship to work. Everyone is supposed to work hard, but when you return to your middle-class home in the suburbs no one is supposed to see the effort you put in. You go to an air-conditioned office in the city for eight hours a day to make enough money to buy food; you don't grow it yourself! It's not just food, either. You're not supposed to work on your car in your yard either, and you're not supposed to hang your clean laundry out to dry.
Pardon the digression, but having been raised in Mexico, that last one was quite a shock to me when I returned to the United States. I mean, line-dried laundry can be a little stiff, but it smells so much better and lasts so much longer than the dryer-processed version. Not to mention how much better it is for the environment.
Which brings me back to the garden, which is also more environmentally sensible than keeping a lawn. And it shouldn't be that difficult. After all, we used to all grow our own food and hang out our own laundry. But I think that's part of the problem. Americans are very fond of progress. We like to feel like we're starting at one point and constantly improving on our way to one goal or another. Going back to something we've already done feels like failure or surrender. In our culture "old-fashioned" and "traditional" are usually meant pejoratively. That's why the words "new" and "improved" so often go together.
Realistically, though, we have to recognize that some progress is not good. Like the constant upward climb of our average weight, which is considerably diminishing our quality of life. Increasingly sophisticated and efficient weaponry is not my favorite form of progress either. Mind you, I'm not advocating that we return to the good old days of beating each other up with rocks. I'm just saying that maybe growing a little food on your property is not a crime. Even if it is a little unusual-looking.
What did you see?
I was looking at pictures on the internet of people who have replaced their lawns with gardens and found a link to this story of a man who's been cited for having an educational garden instead of a lawn in front of his house because it's considered an eyesore. Wanting to see for myself, I found this picture of the garden in question.
Commentary
Does the garden in the link above look bad to you, like it would diminish property values in the neighborhood? It's OK; you can be honest. It does look a little odd, doesn't it? I mean, there's food growing right out there where everyone can see it!
It seems to me that Americans sometimes have a paradoxical relationship to work. Everyone is supposed to work hard, but when you return to your middle-class home in the suburbs no one is supposed to see the effort you put in. You go to an air-conditioned office in the city for eight hours a day to make enough money to buy food; you don't grow it yourself! It's not just food, either. You're not supposed to work on your car in your yard either, and you're not supposed to hang your clean laundry out to dry.
Pardon the digression, but having been raised in Mexico, that last one was quite a shock to me when I returned to the United States. I mean, line-dried laundry can be a little stiff, but it smells so much better and lasts so much longer than the dryer-processed version. Not to mention how much better it is for the environment.
Which brings me back to the garden, which is also more environmentally sensible than keeping a lawn. And it shouldn't be that difficult. After all, we used to all grow our own food and hang out our own laundry. But I think that's part of the problem. Americans are very fond of progress. We like to feel like we're starting at one point and constantly improving on our way to one goal or another. Going back to something we've already done feels like failure or surrender. In our culture "old-fashioned" and "traditional" are usually meant pejoratively. That's why the words "new" and "improved" so often go together.
Realistically, though, we have to recognize that some progress is not good. Like the constant upward climb of our average weight, which is considerably diminishing our quality of life. Increasingly sophisticated and efficient weaponry is not my favorite form of progress either. Mind you, I'm not advocating that we return to the good old days of beating each other up with rocks. I'm just saying that maybe growing a little food on your property is not a crime. Even if it is a little unusual-looking.
What did you see?
8/11/2012
I saw a description of the Divine
Context
My Quaker meeting is reading excerpts from Patricia Loring's Listening Spirituality. One person was particularly struck by this sentence, found in the chapter entitled "Discernment: the Heart of Listening Spirituality: "Both interpretation reflect Friends' felt sense of the Divine as a dynamism rather than as an entity." After some discussion, I added "some" before "Friends'" to my copy of the reading.
Commentary
Quakers are non-dogmatic, which means that although we may spend time talking about what we believe as individuals, we never say that someone else's belief is incorrect. At my meeting, at least, that means that people come to the table with many different conceptions of God. The person who most tends toward the atheistic side of the spectrum like to tease me by asking if I believe God is an old white man in long robes. The completely honest answer to this question is, "Sometimes."
Realistically, I think it's quite a stretch to expect that any human being's understanding of the divine would be entirely accurate. We end up using different language to describe the various aspects we do understand, but those aspects change over time, if only because we choose to emphasize different ones. Even if we decided to remove a great deal of cultural vagaries by talking only about Roman Catholics, a child's idea of her God would vary from a Jesuit's about to graduate from seminary, and his would likely be different from the one held by an elderly woman who's recently been widowed.
So I don't object to people seeing the divine as a dynamism rather than an entity. I even kind of understand where the idea comes from. I think many people prefer this conception because being a discrete entity, or a person, as some of us would have it, would seem to establish inappropriate limits of time and space on the divine nature. On the other hand, I think non-personal language like "flow" or "energy" or, say, "dynamism" is inappropriately limiting as well, in that it takes away the idea the God has a will.
Loring has an answer for this. In the very next paragraph of our reading she discusses a recording of Thomas Merton (referenced in this list) in which he jokes with students about wasting time looking for the map God has planned out for history so they'll know exactly what to do. In Merton's mind, there is no pre-designed map; the road is constantly changing according to the decisions we make and the actions we take.
From my perspective, Merton and Loring are batting .500 as a team. I do agree it's not a good use of our time to try to figure out what God's entire plan is, but that's because the "trying to fit divine-sized stuff into a human brain" problem occurs again, not because the plan doesn't exist. In the final analysis, I feel much more confident living my little Lynn-sized life if I know that God has everything around me in hand (Eeek! A personification!), and everything will work to the good.
What did you see today?
My Quaker meeting is reading excerpts from Patricia Loring's Listening Spirituality. One person was particularly struck by this sentence, found in the chapter entitled "Discernment: the Heart of Listening Spirituality: "Both interpretation reflect Friends' felt sense of the Divine as a dynamism rather than as an entity." After some discussion, I added "some" before "Friends'" to my copy of the reading.
Commentary
Quakers are non-dogmatic, which means that although we may spend time talking about what we believe as individuals, we never say that someone else's belief is incorrect. At my meeting, at least, that means that people come to the table with many different conceptions of God. The person who most tends toward the atheistic side of the spectrum like to tease me by asking if I believe God is an old white man in long robes. The completely honest answer to this question is, "Sometimes."
Realistically, I think it's quite a stretch to expect that any human being's understanding of the divine would be entirely accurate. We end up using different language to describe the various aspects we do understand, but those aspects change over time, if only because we choose to emphasize different ones. Even if we decided to remove a great deal of cultural vagaries by talking only about Roman Catholics, a child's idea of her God would vary from a Jesuit's about to graduate from seminary, and his would likely be different from the one held by an elderly woman who's recently been widowed.
So I don't object to people seeing the divine as a dynamism rather than an entity. I even kind of understand where the idea comes from. I think many people prefer this conception because being a discrete entity, or a person, as some of us would have it, would seem to establish inappropriate limits of time and space on the divine nature. On the other hand, I think non-personal language like "flow" or "energy" or, say, "dynamism" is inappropriately limiting as well, in that it takes away the idea the God has a will.
Loring has an answer for this. In the very next paragraph of our reading she discusses a recording of Thomas Merton (referenced in this list) in which he jokes with students about wasting time looking for the map God has planned out for history so they'll know exactly what to do. In Merton's mind, there is no pre-designed map; the road is constantly changing according to the decisions we make and the actions we take.
From my perspective, Merton and Loring are batting .500 as a team. I do agree it's not a good use of our time to try to figure out what God's entire plan is, but that's because the "trying to fit divine-sized stuff into a human brain" problem occurs again, not because the plan doesn't exist. In the final analysis, I feel much more confident living my little Lynn-sized life if I know that God has everything around me in hand (Eeek! A personification!), and everything will work to the good.
What did you see today?
6/25/2012
I saw a cheesecake shot
Context
I'm at the annual meeting of the American Library Association this weekend. While walking the exhibit floor, I saw that one booth had a life-sized standee image (not a photograph) of a woman wearing what could only be generously called a g-string and bra. They had a science-fictiony look to them, almost like Batman's utility belt. I don't remember if the vendor was selling books or tech, two of the most common things to see at ALA.
Commentary
I've been to comic book conventions, math conventions, and library tech conventions, and the only ones I remember seeing a similar display to this one are the comic book ones. When I looked at this scantily-clad woman I thought, "Man, did their marketing department ever blow it!"
This has to do with the fact that the library profession is made up predominantly of women. Not entirely, and some of the women are lesbians, who might have found the woman attractive, but enough so that the vast majority of people passing the display would be annoyed or offended. What's worse, because of that general level of offense, the people who might actually find the image attractive would be embarrassed. I found myself wondering if the vendor managed to snag anyone at all.
The contrast between what works in a conference composed primarily of women and one composed primarily of men reminded me of the talk I had just attended by Dan Ariely, author of the new book The Honest Truth About Dishonesty: How We Lie to Everyone, Especially Ourselves. The book is mostly about cheating, but it seems like one of the things Ariely's research has uncovered applies to other mores and values as well: social context matters. So if you're a man in a convention hall surrounded by other men, you likely won't feel too self-conscious about ogling a pretty girl. Quite the opposite, in fact. But when you're the only guy walking around with five female colleagues? Very different standards of behavior apply, and as Ariely says, each of your actions in the different contexts will seem right to you, even if they appear contradictory to an outside observer.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with displaying or looking at a picture of a sexy woman. I'm just saying it may not always be your best marketing tool.
What did you see today?
4/27/2012
I saw a request for information
Context
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
1/10/2012
I read a definition of a term
Context
I'm reading A History of the End of the World by Jonathan Kirsch. I'm doing this because I'm thinking about attending a seminar on apocalyptic literature given by Dr. Susan Brayford, a professor emeritus at Centenary College, and she mentioned possibly using this book as a jumping off point.
Anyway, this footnote appears fairly early in the text: "The abbreviation B.C.E. (Before the Common Era) is the equivalent of B.C. (Before Christ), and C.E. (Common Era) is the equivalent of A.D. (Anno Domini, or "In the Year of Our Lord"). The abbreviations B.C.E. and C.E. are used by scholars to avoid the theological implications of B.C. and A.D., and I have used them here for the same reason."
Commentary
I don't care much for this book. I find it astonishingly disrespectful of people (like me) who take the Bible seriously and downright dismissive of the author of the book of Revelation. Usually I believe life is too short to read books I don't like, but I'm continuing with this one for two reasons:
1) It's an Interlibrary Loan. Since the library took extra effort to get it for me, I figure I should give extra effort to getting through it.
2) I am actually learning stuff, like how various apocalyptic prophesies in the Bible compare and contrast with each other.
All the above was to let you know I might be predisposed to snarkiness while reading this book. Here are the two thoughts that crossed my mind when I read the definition of B.C.E.:
1) If you're counting time forward and backward from what historic calendar makers considered to be Jesus's birthdate, calling it something different may avoid the theological implications of that, but the cultural ones are still glaringly obvious: there was some kind of history-changing event 2012 years ago.
2) Does the author really think there's anyone reading his book who won't know what B.C.E. means? This is an historical analysis of the impact of Revelation with lots and lots of references. I don't think people are going to pick it up unless they've at least seen one college classroom or done an equivalent amount of reading. And if any of that study has been in the realm of history, they've seen B.C.E. before.
What did you see today?
I'm reading A History of the End of the World by Jonathan Kirsch. I'm doing this because I'm thinking about attending a seminar on apocalyptic literature given by Dr. Susan Brayford, a professor emeritus at Centenary College, and she mentioned possibly using this book as a jumping off point.
Anyway, this footnote appears fairly early in the text: "The abbreviation B.C.E. (Before the Common Era) is the equivalent of B.C. (Before Christ), and C.E. (Common Era) is the equivalent of A.D. (Anno Domini, or "In the Year of Our Lord"). The abbreviations B.C.E. and C.E. are used by scholars to avoid the theological implications of B.C. and A.D., and I have used them here for the same reason."
Commentary
I don't care much for this book. I find it astonishingly disrespectful of people (like me) who take the Bible seriously and downright dismissive of the author of the book of Revelation. Usually I believe life is too short to read books I don't like, but I'm continuing with this one for two reasons:
1) It's an Interlibrary Loan. Since the library took extra effort to get it for me, I figure I should give extra effort to getting through it.
2) I am actually learning stuff, like how various apocalyptic prophesies in the Bible compare and contrast with each other.
All the above was to let you know I might be predisposed to snarkiness while reading this book. Here are the two thoughts that crossed my mind when I read the definition of B.C.E.:
1) If you're counting time forward and backward from what historic calendar makers considered to be Jesus's birthdate, calling it something different may avoid the theological implications of that, but the cultural ones are still glaringly obvious: there was some kind of history-changing event 2012 years ago.
2) Does the author really think there's anyone reading his book who won't know what B.C.E. means? This is an historical analysis of the impact of Revelation with lots and lots of references. I don't think people are going to pick it up unless they've at least seen one college classroom or done an equivalent amount of reading. And if any of that study has been in the realm of history, they've seen B.C.E. before.
What did you see today?
11/07/2011
I saw a writer's bio
Context
I was looking for more information about the criminal charges filed against a former Penn State football coach. That search led me to this article, which has the following printed at the top as the author's bio:
Jason Whitlock writes about the sports world from every angle, including those other writers can't imagine or muster courage to address. His columns are humorous, thought-provoking, agenda-free, honest and unpredictable.
Commentary
My first question is, have we become so enamored of the idea of personal branding that we think "bio" means "advertisement?" I think of a bio as being something that tells you where a person comes from, perhaps even what he's accomplished up to now, not a description of how awesome he is at present.
Or maybe someone thought it counted as a bio because it's written in the third person. Cynically, I think it was written by Whitlock himself, but I have no evidence one way or the other, because it's not attributed. This, of course, does not help its credibility. Even quote whores put their names on their opinions. By the way, the person at the top of that quote whore list in the link above works for the same parent company as Jason Whitlock, but I digress.
If you're getting the impression I don't believe anything in the "bio," you're correct. I know it's narrow-mindedness on my part, but after reading the bio, I pretty much wrote Whitlock off as a blowhard. Which is kind of sad, because the bio appeared before the article, so his writing didn't even get to speak for itself.
On the other hand, that may have been the bio's author's intent. It seems to me that if you have to say a writer is courageous, insightful and funny before allowing someone to read his work, you're somewhat afraid the reader won't come to those conclusions on her own.
What did you see today?
I was looking for more information about the criminal charges filed against a former Penn State football coach. That search led me to this article, which has the following printed at the top as the author's bio:
Jason Whitlock writes about the sports world from every angle, including those other writers can't imagine or muster courage to address. His columns are humorous, thought-provoking, agenda-free, honest and unpredictable.
Commentary
My first question is, have we become so enamored of the idea of personal branding that we think "bio" means "advertisement?" I think of a bio as being something that tells you where a person comes from, perhaps even what he's accomplished up to now, not a description of how awesome he is at present.
Or maybe someone thought it counted as a bio because it's written in the third person. Cynically, I think it was written by Whitlock himself, but I have no evidence one way or the other, because it's not attributed. This, of course, does not help its credibility. Even quote whores put their names on their opinions. By the way, the person at the top of that quote whore list in the link above works for the same parent company as Jason Whitlock, but I digress.
If you're getting the impression I don't believe anything in the "bio," you're correct. I know it's narrow-mindedness on my part, but after reading the bio, I pretty much wrote Whitlock off as a blowhard. Which is kind of sad, because the bio appeared before the article, so his writing didn't even get to speak for itself.
On the other hand, that may have been the bio's author's intent. It seems to me that if you have to say a writer is courageous, insightful and funny before allowing someone to read his work, you're somewhat afraid the reader won't come to those conclusions on her own.
What did you see today?
6/17/2011
I saw a guy checking out a girl
Context
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
2/15/2011
I saw responses to unwelcome opinions
Context
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
2/02/2011
I saw an obituary
Context
As mentioned earlier I got my B.A. from Rice University. I received an alumni e-mail today that contained a link to this media page on the university website, containing obituaries for two young men who died over the winter break. The cause of death was only listed for one of them, Brandon Cook. After a local media search on the other, Dexter Gannon, I learned his death was ruled a suicide.
Commentary
Suicide was a touchy subject while I was at Rice. There was a widely-held perception that at some times in its history, Rice's emphasis on academic achievement had led to an unhealthy hypercompetitiveness and, in its turn, a high suicide rate. During my undergraduate years, the administration sought to fight this trend by keeping both the scholarship standards and the level of emotional support high. They also blocked off student access to the balcony of the bell tower.
So why did they keep mum about the cause of Dexter Gannon's death twenty-five years later? I suppose you could argue that it was to save his loved ones pain, but that seems flimsy, given that his loved ones presumably knew about the coroner's ruling.
Another explanation might be that Rice wanted to save ether the family or itself embarrassment. I find this idea disturbing, as I would like us to get to a point in our culture where we no longer consider mental difficulties shameful.
Regardless, I think it was a bad decision. I don't think covering up the tragic aspects of life really helps anyone. I believe light and air are far better cures for what ails us. After all, the It Gets Better project was started in the wake of gay teen suicides. But we had to talk about the suicides first.
What did you see today?
As mentioned earlier I got my B.A. from Rice University. I received an alumni e-mail today that contained a link to this media page on the university website, containing obituaries for two young men who died over the winter break. The cause of death was only listed for one of them, Brandon Cook. After a local media search on the other, Dexter Gannon, I learned his death was ruled a suicide.
Commentary
Suicide was a touchy subject while I was at Rice. There was a widely-held perception that at some times in its history, Rice's emphasis on academic achievement had led to an unhealthy hypercompetitiveness and, in its turn, a high suicide rate. During my undergraduate years, the administration sought to fight this trend by keeping both the scholarship standards and the level of emotional support high. They also blocked off student access to the balcony of the bell tower.
So why did they keep mum about the cause of Dexter Gannon's death twenty-five years later? I suppose you could argue that it was to save his loved ones pain, but that seems flimsy, given that his loved ones presumably knew about the coroner's ruling.
Another explanation might be that Rice wanted to save ether the family or itself embarrassment. I find this idea disturbing, as I would like us to get to a point in our culture where we no longer consider mental difficulties shameful.
Regardless, I think it was a bad decision. I don't think covering up the tragic aspects of life really helps anyone. I believe light and air are far better cures for what ails us. After all, the It Gets Better project was started in the wake of gay teen suicides. But we had to talk about the suicides first.
What did you see today?
6/30/2010
I saw an underweight coworker
Context
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
3/19/2010
I saw a lack of capitalization
Context
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
3/02/2010
I heard about an exclusive service
Context
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
3/06/2009
I heard about no-win situations
Context
My boss and I were talking about situations where you "catch more flies with honey than vinegar," and he mentioned one where there's nothing you can say that won't get you in trouble: "should I eat this?", when spoken by a girlfriend. I said, "yup, and the ever-popular 'does this make me look fat?'"
Commentary
I'm not going to talk about body-image issues. It is, frankly, too easy a target and I don't think I have anything new to contribute to it. Instead I'm going to make a heartfelt plea that we stop asking questions of our significant others that we should be answering ourselves. And it's not just straight women. People of every conceivable type of romantic interest set these little traps (hopefully unintentionally!) for the people they supposedly like.
Take "does this make me look fat?" First of all, this question implies that what you look like is somehow the fault of an inanimate object. Also, you're asking someone outside yourself to create an objective reality for you. No matter how she or he answers, that answer is supposed to stand in for everyone else in the world, including you.
At the very least, make this a question that encompasses only one person's opinion: "do you think I look fat when I wear this?" Before you ask a question like this, though, you should probably prepare yourself for one of three answers:
1) I have no opinion. The sad fact of life is if you're asking a straight male the question, this is likely the answer. Men may be partial to or repulsed by how some small subset of our garments look on us, but face it, when we own the same pair of shoes in navy and black, we can't even tell the difference ourselves most mornings.
2) Yes. This means your significant other thinks this is an unflattering garment. Or that he/she likes you fat. Nothing more. It is not a reflection on the entire history of your relationship.
3) No. This may potentially mean your partner disagrees with you on how flattering this item is.
So how do you deal with this disagreement? Go with your own opinion (oh well, I don't like it anyway, off to Goodwill)? Then why did you ask? Go with their opinion (OK, I'll keep it then, just as a present to you)? Actually, this is not a bad way to train your significant other to be honest, because if she/he is not, you're going to end up with a lot of clothes neither of you can stand! Honestly reassess your opinion in light of partner's, but still make up your own mind? Heavens! How insanely well-adjusted of you!
As for the "should I eat this?" question, I think it is far more easily dispensed with. There are only three circumstances under which you should be asking ANYONE this question:
1) You have been presented with something that for cultural reasons you don't know the purpose of. If someone gives you a definitive answer either way, do what they say.
2) You are under 14. In this case you should give some credence to the answer, especially if you have documented food sensitivities.
3) You are asking a registered dietician, in which case you can ask for the advice but still make up your own mind.
In every other situation grownups are expected to know how to feed themselves. Even female grownups with body-image issues.
What did you hear today?
My boss and I were talking about situations where you "catch more flies with honey than vinegar," and he mentioned one where there's nothing you can say that won't get you in trouble: "should I eat this?", when spoken by a girlfriend. I said, "yup, and the ever-popular 'does this make me look fat?'"
Commentary
I'm not going to talk about body-image issues. It is, frankly, too easy a target and I don't think I have anything new to contribute to it. Instead I'm going to make a heartfelt plea that we stop asking questions of our significant others that we should be answering ourselves. And it's not just straight women. People of every conceivable type of romantic interest set these little traps (hopefully unintentionally!) for the people they supposedly like.
Take "does this make me look fat?" First of all, this question implies that what you look like is somehow the fault of an inanimate object. Also, you're asking someone outside yourself to create an objective reality for you. No matter how she or he answers, that answer is supposed to stand in for everyone else in the world, including you.
At the very least, make this a question that encompasses only one person's opinion: "do you think I look fat when I wear this?" Before you ask a question like this, though, you should probably prepare yourself for one of three answers:
1) I have no opinion. The sad fact of life is if you're asking a straight male the question, this is likely the answer. Men may be partial to or repulsed by how some small subset of our garments look on us, but face it, when we own the same pair of shoes in navy and black, we can't even tell the difference ourselves most mornings.
2) Yes. This means your significant other thinks this is an unflattering garment. Or that he/she likes you fat. Nothing more. It is not a reflection on the entire history of your relationship.
3) No. This may potentially mean your partner disagrees with you on how flattering this item is.
So how do you deal with this disagreement? Go with your own opinion (oh well, I don't like it anyway, off to Goodwill)? Then why did you ask? Go with their opinion (OK, I'll keep it then, just as a present to you)? Actually, this is not a bad way to train your significant other to be honest, because if she/he is not, you're going to end up with a lot of clothes neither of you can stand! Honestly reassess your opinion in light of partner's, but still make up your own mind? Heavens! How insanely well-adjusted of you!
As for the "should I eat this?" question, I think it is far more easily dispensed with. There are only three circumstances under which you should be asking ANYONE this question:
1) You have been presented with something that for cultural reasons you don't know the purpose of. If someone gives you a definitive answer either way, do what they say.
2) You are under 14. In this case you should give some credence to the answer, especially if you have documented food sensitivities.
3) You are asking a registered dietician, in which case you can ask for the advice but still make up your own mind.
In every other situation grownups are expected to know how to feed themselves. Even female grownups with body-image issues.
What did you hear today?
9/09/2008
I saw descriptions of barred patrons
Context
We sometimes bar people from entering our library. I was looking over the descriptions of these patrons today and many of them included the following: black male; black hair; brown eyes.
Commentary
Why yes, I am going to talk about racism today but perhaps not in the fashion you're expecting. As I read these descriptions today I was trying to figure out if it's redundant to say "black male" and "black hair and brown eyes," given that these characteristics are true of the vast majority of black males. Not all, of course, but many. On the other hand, when you're giving a description of someone it's a bad idea to make any assumptions.
Which brings me to something we frequently talk about when discussing racism: the belief that all black people look alike to white people. This isn't strictly true of me, but it is true that I often have trouble distinguishing between people who have chocolate-colored skin and black hair.
I'm not being disingenuous. I don't know if it's because I'm white or I was raised wrong or I have weird cultural touchstones, but when I first meet people the first physical characteristics I look at are skin color, hair color, age, height and weight. And by "age, height and weight" I mean "relative to me." So I have found myself in the situation where I met two dark-skinned ladies with black hair who were taller, wider and older than me and was unable to distinguish them until I got to know them better. They also happened to be black. In my defense, as a person who teaches a lot of senior citizens, there are a number of light-skinned, grey-haired, older/shorter/thinner than me women I can't tell apart, either.
Certainly the situation becomes much less dire-looking if we remove the word "black" from the description of people we can't tell apart. In fact, is this a case where overgeneralization is running in the opposite direction? Is the problem that all black people look alike to me? Or is the problem that when two people with some similar characteristics look alike to me the assumption arises that I see all black people as being the same? Or worse, that all white people see all black people as being the same?
What did you see today?
We sometimes bar people from entering our library. I was looking over the descriptions of these patrons today and many of them included the following: black male; black hair; brown eyes.
Commentary
Why yes, I am going to talk about racism today but perhaps not in the fashion you're expecting. As I read these descriptions today I was trying to figure out if it's redundant to say "black male" and "black hair and brown eyes," given that these characteristics are true of the vast majority of black males. Not all, of course, but many. On the other hand, when you're giving a description of someone it's a bad idea to make any assumptions.
Which brings me to something we frequently talk about when discussing racism: the belief that all black people look alike to white people. This isn't strictly true of me, but it is true that I often have trouble distinguishing between people who have chocolate-colored skin and black hair.
I'm not being disingenuous. I don't know if it's because I'm white or I was raised wrong or I have weird cultural touchstones, but when I first meet people the first physical characteristics I look at are skin color, hair color, age, height and weight. And by "age, height and weight" I mean "relative to me." So I have found myself in the situation where I met two dark-skinned ladies with black hair who were taller, wider and older than me and was unable to distinguish them until I got to know them better. They also happened to be black. In my defense, as a person who teaches a lot of senior citizens, there are a number of light-skinned, grey-haired, older/shorter/thinner than me women I can't tell apart, either.
Certainly the situation becomes much less dire-looking if we remove the word "black" from the description of people we can't tell apart. In fact, is this a case where overgeneralization is running in the opposite direction? Is the problem that all black people look alike to me? Or is the problem that when two people with some similar characteristics look alike to me the assumption arises that I see all black people as being the same? Or worse, that all white people see all black people as being the same?
What did you see today?
4/04/2006
I saw my boss's boss make a face
Context
My boss's boss came to my cubicle to invite me to a meeting today. When I asked questions regarding duration and agenda, she said, "I don't know," and made a "why are you asking me questions" face.
Commentary
"Perceived" sounded too pompous. We'll just deal with the fact that sometimes "What I Saw Today" will encompass "What I Heard Today."
My boss's boss's reaction (is that a fun phrase, or what?) to my inquiries made me ponder what causes us not to want to hear questions. I think I've broken it down to three basic reasons:
1) We don't know the answer, and we think we should. I think this fit the situation today. This is sad, because I thought "I don't know" was a perfectly reasonable response, but it seemed to make my b.b. unhappy to have to say it.
2) We think the questioner doesn't actually care about the answer to the question. In other words, he/she's trying to provoke a reaction, not being genuinely curious.
3) We know the answer and we're uncomfortable giving it. When we hear the question, we respond by saying something like, "I was afraid you were going to ask that."
I'm wondering if we can get over having a unfavorable reaction to questions. I'd like to accomplish this both because I think questions are generally a good form of communication and because I frequently have all the responses listed above.
Just to let myself off 1/3 of the hook, I'll say I don't think the #3 reaction can be vanquished. It's never going to be pleasant to say, "no, I'm really not interested in dating you anymore," or "it's going to take $500 to fix this and your warranty has expired."
Reaction #1 begs a flippant answer: just make sure you know everything you think you're supposed to know. OK, not likely. How about: become more comfortable with your ignorance? That's better, but still not wholly satisfying. After all, maybe you'd be perfectly OK with saying "I don't know," but you think your questioner expects you to have all the answers. Isn't this why we're so reluctant to admit our ignorance when questioned by a little kid? I mean, we're adults, haven't we had time to learn everything yet? Um, no. The best thing about questions, particularly little kid questions, is that they open up the possibility of learning more if we choose to.
And then there's reaction #2. If we're correct about our questioner's motivation, then we have every right to be unhappy with the question. The problem that frequently happens in my life is assumption of provocation where none was intended. What if I were to treat every question as if it were asked in good faith? Does it actually do any harm to act this way even if someone is actually trying to get your goat?
I am a fashion nightmare. It would be easier to if I could just say I don't care about clothes, but that's not true. I care deeply about my clothing, and my opinion about what looks good is different from just about everyone else on the planet. When I was in middle school and sensitive about such things, fashionistas would look at my outfit and say, "are you in a play?" This would cause the usual adolescent angst on my part, but what if my answer had been, "no, but if I was, I'd be sure to let you know. Thanks for asking."?
If we do that, the insulting person will think we were ignorant of their intent. We'll look like we didn't know something we were supposed to. In that case, refer to reaction #1. Although why we would want to learn more about how evil people can be is beyond me.
What did you see today?
My boss's boss came to my cubicle to invite me to a meeting today. When I asked questions regarding duration and agenda, she said, "I don't know," and made a "why are you asking me questions" face.
Commentary
"Perceived" sounded too pompous. We'll just deal with the fact that sometimes "What I Saw Today" will encompass "What I Heard Today."
My boss's boss's reaction (is that a fun phrase, or what?) to my inquiries made me ponder what causes us not to want to hear questions. I think I've broken it down to three basic reasons:
1) We don't know the answer, and we think we should. I think this fit the situation today. This is sad, because I thought "I don't know" was a perfectly reasonable response, but it seemed to make my b.b. unhappy to have to say it.
2) We think the questioner doesn't actually care about the answer to the question. In other words, he/she's trying to provoke a reaction, not being genuinely curious.
3) We know the answer and we're uncomfortable giving it. When we hear the question, we respond by saying something like, "I was afraid you were going to ask that."
I'm wondering if we can get over having a unfavorable reaction to questions. I'd like to accomplish this both because I think questions are generally a good form of communication and because I frequently have all the responses listed above.
Just to let myself off 1/3 of the hook, I'll say I don't think the #3 reaction can be vanquished. It's never going to be pleasant to say, "no, I'm really not interested in dating you anymore," or "it's going to take $500 to fix this and your warranty has expired."
Reaction #1 begs a flippant answer: just make sure you know everything you think you're supposed to know. OK, not likely. How about: become more comfortable with your ignorance? That's better, but still not wholly satisfying. After all, maybe you'd be perfectly OK with saying "I don't know," but you think your questioner expects you to have all the answers. Isn't this why we're so reluctant to admit our ignorance when questioned by a little kid? I mean, we're adults, haven't we had time to learn everything yet? Um, no. The best thing about questions, particularly little kid questions, is that they open up the possibility of learning more if we choose to.
And then there's reaction #2. If we're correct about our questioner's motivation, then we have every right to be unhappy with the question. The problem that frequently happens in my life is assumption of provocation where none was intended. What if I were to treat every question as if it were asked in good faith? Does it actually do any harm to act this way even if someone is actually trying to get your goat?
I am a fashion nightmare. It would be easier to if I could just say I don't care about clothes, but that's not true. I care deeply about my clothing, and my opinion about what looks good is different from just about everyone else on the planet. When I was in middle school and sensitive about such things, fashionistas would look at my outfit and say, "are you in a play?" This would cause the usual adolescent angst on my part, but what if my answer had been, "no, but if I was, I'd be sure to let you know. Thanks for asking."?
If we do that, the insulting person will think we were ignorant of their intent. We'll look like we didn't know something we were supposed to. In that case, refer to reaction #1. Although why we would want to learn more about how evil people can be is beyond me.
What did you see today?
1/03/2006
I saw a photograph of my sister's haircut.
Context
My sister is planning to start chemotherapy in a few weeks, so she got her hair cut as a preemptive measure and I just received my first photo of her newly-short 'do. By the way, she donated her hair to Locks of Love.
Commentary
She looks different. She looks older. She looks better. That's kind of weird; we're accustomed to think that in middle age older-looking is never better-looking. It's not true though. She looks like a different, more mature, more relaxed person. Better.
I wonder if some other positive changes will come along with this haircut. It's odd to think that something as nerve-wracking as chemotherapy would actually be the door into a new life, but God has a flair for the odd. Especially the "it looks like a bad thing, but it's actually a good thing" kind of odd. Like Good Friday.
What did you see today?
My sister is planning to start chemotherapy in a few weeks, so she got her hair cut as a preemptive measure and I just received my first photo of her newly-short 'do. By the way, she donated her hair to Locks of Love.
Commentary
She looks different. She looks older. She looks better. That's kind of weird; we're accustomed to think that in middle age older-looking is never better-looking. It's not true though. She looks like a different, more mature, more relaxed person. Better.
I wonder if some other positive changes will come along with this haircut. It's odd to think that something as nerve-wracking as chemotherapy would actually be the door into a new life, but God has a flair for the odd. Especially the "it looks like a bad thing, but it's actually a good thing" kind of odd. Like Good Friday.
What did you see today?
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