Purple State, USA

Differing Opinions

I grew up in a primarily neutral world--the bright and ostentatious as socially unacceptable as the dark and morose. Emotions--good and bad--were to be tempered at all costs. It was about tradition, the status quo, the appearance. Not asking too many questions. Fitting in. An unspoken fear of different views, different opinions. It wasn't, Why don't they believe as we do? It was, What's wrong with them that they don't believe as we do?

Fortunately, I was so bad at living this way that by the time I was sixteen I had a new world. Of course, it didn't seem fortunate at the time. It was blinding and overwhelming, unfamiliar and scary. It was full of sights, sounds, people--ideas--that my previous existence would not have tolerated.

It changed me. Mostly for the better. I gained knowledge. And found respect. I learned not to be afraid of existence at any spectrum. Life is a persistent, giving force no matter where you find it. It should be embraced, felt, lived. It is possible to get lost in profound joy and devastating pain without losing sight of ourselves. It is possible to debate and compromise without it turning the entire world upside down.

The most significant thing I learned, though, is that there is only one truly reprehensible individual... the one who has no opinion at all. The people who aren't searching or thinking or seeing... they are the ones who do the most harm.

Show me a man angrily waving a gun next to a man looking apathetically the other way and ask me which one I think is, ultimately, the most dangerous. It is--hands down--the latter. The man who cannot bring himself to care, to form an opinion, to take a stand. He will always be subject to the men who do. He will never learn from them or be better for knowing them... or teach them or make them better for knowing him. He has stopped. He is weak and repulsive.

If we find ourselves on opposite sides of a debate, let me start by saying that no matter how vehemently we may disagree--thank heavens you have cared enough to show up, to form an opinion. The idea that we must agree in order to respect each other is misguided at best. At worst--and more often--, it is outright detrimental.

We grow through the intellectual, sometimes passionate, exchange of thoughts and ideas. Next time you meet someone with an opinion different than yours, how about consciously getting excited? After all, in front of you both is an opportunity to learn something new. Embrace it.

Messy People.

By the time I followed Tiffany* out of the restaurant the middle toe on my right foot was throbbing. I had no idea what had happened. I only knew that it definitely hadn't hurt when I walked in and sat down at the table. On any other day such an inexplicable injury might have caused me greater contemplation, but on this day--at the end of the last series of days--it didn't seem that unusual.

Tiffany and I first corresponded via email in late February. From then until the Friday before meeting, we hadn't communicated. Friday I received an email that had something to do with her current boyfriend. I didn't know him, but an odd series of incredible, twisting coincidences proved our paths were more intertwined than either of us first suspected. At the realization, we decided we should meet in person.

It was an interesting discussion. In fact, I have had several interesting discussions of all different types with many different individuals lately. Here's what I've learned: People are messy.

Tiffany* sat across from what most would have termed a stranger and shared a few of her biggest fears. Some would criticize her for being so vulnerable so soon. But if you look closer, you see she's just a person doing the hard work of trying to find the answers to her questions. 

I have a friend whose divorce after many years of marriage will be final next week. He will tell you that he's "happy" but lost. It might sound like a line until you look closer and realize that he is.

Jake* will tell you all about the job he loves, but that he feels conflicted considering the long hours it demands.

Nikki* will candidly admit that she has unexpected questions about religious beliefs she has held for a lifetime.

Brett* will share with you that he wonders whether he has the strength to continue the grueling fight for more time with his kids.

Sonja* struggles to balance what she wants with the prudence her mind demands.

Messy people indeed. It turns out, however, that I love messy people. They are about the only kind of people worth knowing.

There are individuals and countries content with the status quo; content to sit on their bums each day and let the minutes tick by mindlessly. Messy people want that life until they get it, at which point they realize there's a reason they weren't created as trees.

These people--these wonderful, skeptical, thinking people--are the consequence and the children of freedom. Authoritarian governments do not encourage their minions to ask questions; religious fanatics do not tolerate the curious inquiries of their followers. Our government may not always encourage or like our questions, but it protects our right to ask them. Most of us have been fortunate to grow up taking for granted our right to--as Albert Einstein so eloquently put it--"question everything."

Questions encourage messiness, disorder, at times even chaos, but my belief is that the forefathers understood these moments to be opportunities, necessary catalysts to progress. The first man to ask himself, "What if the boat doesn't fall off the edge of the earth at the horizon?" was the first person to start the world down the path of greater understanding, though he likely appeared to be little more than a suicidal lunatic as he raised his sail for that first journey.

That's why, in the midst of the mess, it's important to be patient with each other; to recognize the difference between those intending malice with their words or actions and those legitimately striving to think and to understand. The latter are the people most likely to take their introspection and move themselves, along with their country, forward. Indeed, they are the only type of people who ever have.

If nothing else, they deserve our respect. They pay a price for their efforts, and we as a society owe them a debt for it. We should give them all the encouragement we can, while also seeking to question and to understand for ourselves.

*names changed for privacy

One Size Fits All?

I was at Victoria's Secret the other day when I heard a saleswoman tell a customer to "come check out our new one-size-fits-all thong."

*blink*

It took quite a bit of restraint to keep me from doing a one-eighty to see what sort of miracle garment this must be. I hope the customer didn't fall for it, though she timidly trailed the saleslady out of the part of the store I was standing in.

From a retail perspective, I understand how a one-size-fits-all society would be easier to serve. If everyone wanted a pink, padded push-up and a pink thong in the same size, there would be no need to stress about surplus stock when the lime-green-purple-polka-dot-with-blue-lace-trim underpants never catch on with the size 4 crowd.

What I really wonder is why the rest of us want so badly to be one-size-fits-all. I get that on the surface most of us would say we don't and rattle off a list of our lovable differences... but on some fundamental level a lot of us do. In a country and a world where we are often directly or indirectly told how to think, act and look, many of us shun or strive to change those parts of us that aren't in line with the rest.

This is despite the fact history will show us that many of the greatest and most influential people were often considered, well... very odd. Some of them weren't good students. A lot of them didn't have perfect physiques. Many struggled with anxiety, depression or hyper-activity. A number held a view of the world different than those around them. More than we realize were deemed failures before they were recognized for whatever extraordinary success we remember them for.

Einstein, Mozart, Jefferson, Lincoln, Bill Gates, Angelina Jolie, Stephen King... These are all individuals with extraordinary accomplishments in their respective lives and fields, yet even they--perhaps especially they--did not or do not conform to the one-size-should-fit-all views constantly pushed on us as a society.

I had a family member years ago that was always very down on me. She wanted me to be less "sensitive" to the world around me, less aware. I understand that this was her way of wishing to protect me from the pain that sensitivity and awareness can cause. The problem was, the person she wanted me to be simply wasn't me. We both tried--because I had much love and respect for her--to make me that person, but it shouldn't be surprising that ultimately we failed. Ironically, those same traits she worried would only burden me have also become some of my greatest strengths.

Equality is about how we treat people. It was never meant to turn us into mirror images of each other. Our diversity as a nation is our strength. We do it better than most countries...despite the squabbles and tension, despite the dismay the Victoria's Secret customer may have felt when the one-size-fits-all thong didn't fit her (honey, it doesn't fit anyone). We do it because some occasions and people simply call for lime-green-purple-polka-dot-with-blue-lace-trim underpants.

Thank heavens, though, and God bless America, right? Because life is simply much more interesting with those people among us.

Thankful We Are So Different.

I have been thinking alot about Thanksgiving this week... its origins, its impact on the nation that would later be conceived on these shores, what meaning it still holds today. This week I watched our president welcome the prime minister of India, I saw replayed in the news Adam Lambert's provocative kiss with his male keyboardist, and I was saved a thousand times over by the grace, experience and diversity of my own acquaintances, friends, and family.

I wonder at the first Thanksgiving, at how tentative and a bit scary sitting down with people so different from themselves must have felt for both the pilgrims and the Native Americans. Perhaps under the festive celebration of the harvest, each side even secretly hoped they could more conform the other to their own beliefs and ways of life. Perhaps with time at least some realized why everyone was better off if they didn't.

It would be so much easier if we were all the same, wouldn't it? If we all held the same beliefs, the same fears, the same guiding principles, the same flaws, the same strengths, the same thoughts. We wouldn't have much to talk about, but certainly there would be the peace and predictability that our lives generally lack as we open our minds (sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not) to ideas different, even more uncomfortable, than our own.

A friend told me a couple weeks ago that he often enjoys a drink with his neighbors, listening as they talk about the neighbors that aren't there. These people, I presume, are at the very least upper-middle class, yet I almost choked on the sudden realization that white trash can exist at every economic level. They are, in all likelihood, still good people who have simply fallen into the trap of judging and compartmentalizing anything existing outside their comfort zone.

We are often afraid of what we don't understand, aren't we? In our rushed, always-on-24/7/365 lives, we seek, often desperately, to quickly and cleverly summarize lives, beliefs and actions different from our own. We do this even when we haven't bothered to gather the knowledge necessary to understand anything other than what we see at the surface. We do this perhaps to gain a laugh from our friends, but to the detriment of our society.

My challenge this week to all of us is to take a step outside our "normal" realities. Take the time to get to know more about an idea or a person that makes you uncomfortable. When you find yourself reacting in anger or defensiveness to something someone is saying, ask yourself why? and then commit to listening harder. Seek to understand. See if you can find a way to appreciate a new perspective or enhance your life by looking through the eyes of another.

At worst, you'll find you were right to be uncomfortable (I mean, really, there are some pretty serious nut-jobs in the world), but--at best--you might find another reason to be grateful this Thanksgiving for the diverse nation we are fortunate to call home.

Angry People Piss Me Off.

A friend I haven't spoken with in awhile reminded me today of a confrontation I had with the restaurant owner of a Mexican dive in our area ("dive" being my very biased opinion based primarily on the story I am about to share). My co-workers and I would often go there and we almost always left with one quirky story or another... food ordered but only partially delivered... the day we and the rest of the restaurant sat hungrily--gradually realizing that no food was coming out of the kitchen--until 30 minutes later when food began reappearing with no explanation for the delay... things like that. Most of us were relatively laid back people, so these stories mostly turned into entertaining debacles rather than anything any of us would consider worth the extra energy true agitation or anger would have required.

Then one day we were all there for some significant gathering--a going away or a birthday or something to that effect. We were all paying separately (it was a cheap company) and the waitress was aggravated by that fact given the size of our group. I gave her my card to pay for my food and someone else's. When she came back, she informed me that she'd forgotten to add something so the total on the bill was about $10 more and she had already run the card for the new amount. Which was really fine. Really it was. It did strike me as odd, however, that she didn't say something before doing that, so I mentioned to her that I would have preferred to be notified of the error before she ran my card for an amount different than the one I had reviewed and accepted when I handed it to her.

I saw this as a helpful suggestion. She, apparently, saw it as an affront to some core moral principle that I have yet to guess the origin of. Accordingly, she snapped something back at me. Surprised by the unexpected confrontation, I found myself propelled down the path of trying to explain to her that I wasn't upset but that it simply seemed like the prudent thing to do. She was stuck on the fact I had to pay regardless of what the amount was and I wouldn't, in fact, have used a different method of payment. I was stuck on the fact she couldn't have known that without asking me.

I really hate miscommunications. There is just some fundamental part of me that rejects the idea we aren't all capable of interacting on a reasonably civil and intelligent level (and, in all fairness, this part of me is often disappointed). So after she walked away I concluded that maybe I had unintentionally come off wrong in my initial response, sending us reeling down this road of the stressful and absurd. So I, the customer, walked over to her--away from the eyes of my co-workers and everyone else--and told her I hoped I hadn't come off wrong, that I had just been trying to provide a helpful suggestion in the event someone else would need to know about that extra $10 before having their card charged.

Let's just say that didn't work either. At that point, my good nature was at its limit and I asked to speak to a manager. She told me smugly that she was the owner. Which. I'm not sure what she hoped that proved, because even Castro and Hitler run\ran countries... being in power doesn't necessarily make a person any less of an ignorant dope, as most companies in America can readily attest to. Her revelation, however, did effectively end any hope of clearing up the situation, so we left. I have never been back.

For the record, I believe I was right, though mostly because she couldn't offer me a view to counter my own. The more rationally and calmly I tried to explain my perspective, the angrier she became.

My being right doesn't matter, of course, because being right in our society often doesn't mean anything except we are supposed to feel apologetic to anyone who might feel bad for being wrong. Maybe she was having a bad day, maybe she was just overwhelmed... yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm that person with that voice in my head too. I can empathize and I have no doubt pooed on someone else's rainbow in the midst of my own bad days.

That said. Consider the conversations we are trying to have as a country. Consider how many of us are angry and yelling and it doesn't matter what anyone says, we can't stop. We can't listen. We can't risk granting even one concession, lest it all snowball into something terrible. The most terrifying thing about the health care debate isn't what a tremendous decision it is for ourselves and our children, but the fact we can't even calm down long enough to discuss it rationally.

What does it say about us as a country that we're often too busy to slow down, set aside our preconceived notions for a moment and just really listen to each other? What hope do our children have of learning to be better people if we can't even set a decent example of how to do that?

I Do. Or Do I?

In the interest of full disclosure, I will start by telling you that I am not a fan of even the traditional definition of marriage. Individuals smarter than me could no doubt analyze the experiences that have defined me and come up with a handful of explanations for why that might be. What I know is that it just stopped making sense to me somewhere around the time I started questioning the intelligence of a lot of things I had once accepted with implicit faith.

That said, I also don't begrudge any individual who does find this a sensible and necessary way to express their love and commitment to another person who is also of consenting age. Perhaps it is once again due to my own life experiences, but the caveat here is that I do mean any adult--regardless of age, race, gender, physical mutations, etc--being able to make that commitment to any other adult--regardless of their own age, race, gender or physical mutations.

We explored one aspect of the First Amendment in our last Civil Liberties post, but let's focus on a specific sentence with this blog--"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;"

The preceding sentence is what mandates that our government exercise separation of church and state. It doesn't just mean that no law can be made about what religion a person must be, but that no legislation can be enacted that makes a religious principle law. No law saying that we must all go to church on Christmas, that all women must wear a hijab or that every insect be left in peace out of the Buddhists' respect for all living things. Which means that--while I am not anymore inclined to marry someone from my own gender than I am to marry someone from the opposite--our constitution says that my own preferences in this area should be moot when it comes to making laws my peers and I must abide by.

Marriage is a religious institution, let's be clear. If it was anything different, it would be the same regardless of country or religion or century. It is not. Our government recognizes marriage in a legal sense in order to determine how to apply taxes, manage spouses' legal rights and protections, and because it will be called upon to divide assets and determine child custody when any union falls apart (as they often seem to).

That said, let's take sexual preference out of it for a minute (the sticking point for many who oppose anything but traditional marriage) and throw a hypothetical situation out for consideration...

Let's say my (female) best friend and I were both happily married since our late-twenties to two wonderful men, who were also very good friends with each other. In our mid-forties, on the way back from a guys' weekend skiing or golfing or whatever, our husbands are both tragically killed in an accident. Between the two of us, we are left with four children, two mortgages and a lot of uncertainty about our futures. My parents have already passed away and hers aren't in any condition to take care of themselves, much less help her or make decisions on her behalf if something happens to her. We have siblings, but our siblings aren't involved in our day-to-day lives because they have their own families and their own concerns.

All we have is each other. My house has room for all of us and I can continue to pay the mortgage; she has health insurance, where mine was through my husband. If something happens to me and I can't communicate my wishes, she is now the first person I would want the hospital to consult about what my wishes would be; and vice versa. In the event either of us finds a fate similar to our husbands, we would want the other to have custody of our children and access to any of our financial assets in order to ease any burden related to that, without any challenge or hassle. Maybe that will change one day, but for now we are more concerned with protecting ourselves and being able to finish raising our teenage children than we are with dating, finding new husbands or trying to start new lives.

On a purely legal level, that's what marriage is and that's what my best friend and I should be able to do if we decide--as rational adults--that it's a commitment we want to make to each other. The law concerns itself with committing to another person not on a spiritual level, but in all the tangible ways that it can influence--specifically when it comes to medical or financial decisions. Protecting the legal rights inherent to sharing a life with another human being is why it treaded into the murky gray area of not-completely-separate-church-and-state to begin with.

I may not believe in marriage for myself, but even if I did I still would be hard-pressed to find issue with any responsible consenting adult--for whatever reason they might have, which (IMO) isn't any of my business anyway--making a commitment to another consenting adult or group of consenting adults. If all these people want is to live prolific lives where they are able to be focused stewards of themselves and their children, then why should I or the American government take issue with that? As we watch so many traditional marriages dissolving into the hate-filled opposite of that, does anyone touting traditional marriage as "the right way to have a family" really have any imaginary moral authority left to stand on?

Many states--my own included, I am disappointed to say--have amended their constitutions "in hindsight" to define marriage as being between a man and a woman. These changes are illegal. Amendments or laws of that nature are in direct violation of the First Amendment, because the definition of a man and a woman is something being driven by a religious propaganda machine that our government is supposed to remain impervious to. 

I believe this goes back to the previous civil liberties post where we, as Americans, sometimes fall into the trap of making laws against things we don't personally agree with or understand--without consideration of what our constitution does or doesn't permit us the power to do (and for what good reasons that might be). On a purely legal level, can you find basis for any law that defines marriage as solely between a man and a woman? 

... And I also got a new Jeep.

The rental car company's shuttle driver was entertaining from the moment I stepped aboard his--as he referred to it--chariot. After helping those who needed help with their bags, he cheerfully warned us that the police were out in full force that day so to watch our speed once we received our rental cars. We had all arrived at Dulles from various locations and he ended his warning on speeding by stating in his thick Puerto Rican accent, "Welcome to America, where you're as free as you can afford to be."

That was this past Saturday morning, as I left the airport to rent a car, then drive to a dealership thirty-five minutes away, pick up what I think is the perfect Jeep Rubicon for off-roading and drive it sixteen hours back home. It was lunacy at its finest, but I saw it and fell in love with it... and we all know love can make us do crazy things.

At any rate, I thought the shuttle driver's comment warranted further contemplation, so I filed it and him away as a potential talking point in some future blog. We arrived at the rental car company. And then my whole plan went to hell.

Due to legalities related to my one-way ticket, I was informed that I would not be permitted to rent a car. Apparently there was some fear that I might drive away with their crappy rental car. Logic fails in these situations, which I always find frustrating. For instance, if I was a person so inclined to that sort of behavior, why would having a return ticket make me any less likely to steal the car?

In all fairness, the "manager" was no older than twelve and even if he had been open to listening to my reasoning, there wasn't much he could do to change the company's policy. In the end, it all amounted to me being stuck. There was no taxi that was going to take me to middle-of-nowhere VA without an awful lot of hassle, but that or walking was quickly shaping up to be my only two options.

It was in the midst of tears of frustration (I hate that, it's totally the chick in me ;\) that the shuttle driver got my attention and said he would take me back to the airport. When I got in the shuttle, he promised me that he would help me, because he believes that people who stay positive have positive things happen to them. After a bit more discussion of my situation, he told me that--if it was okay with me--he would take lunch and drive me where I needed to go.

Life has made most of us a bit cynical, and I admit that I am no exception. I wondered at alternate motives, questioned whether it was safe, and pondered whether it was wise. All the prudent things to do in our world today. Despite that, I ultimately accepted. Although when he dropped me off at an Exxon so he could go get his own car, I did contemplate whether or not I should buy a drink in a glass bottle in the event I might need a weapon (I didn't).

This blog would be too long if I tried to go into the entire story, but for the several hours we spent together, I not only enjoyed myself, but found the time very enlightening. It turned out that his motives were genuine. He shared stories about the 2-3 jobs he works, his two grown daughters, as well as his thoughts on life. When we finally parted ways at the dealership (he even stayed through the test drive and paperwork to make sure I didn't end up stranded), I gave him a hug and a handful of money (which he didn't request or expect). In the end, it cost me more than the rental car or even the taxi probably would have... but I gained so much more for his willingness to detour his plan for that particular afternoon of his life.

I will admit that I have had a rough several weeks. Nothing earth-shattering, just a few difficult decisions that when combined kind of start to wear on the soul. Too much time spent on things that don't really matter, not quite enough time for the things that do; the loss of a potential friend; things like that. I was looking forward to the long drive home as an opportunity to re-focus myself.

It turned out Cesar was an unexpected, but perfect way, to start that journey. Life, I choose to believe, gave me a gift when I ran into what I thought was the dead-end of the rental car company's BS policy. As he and I discussed, it's the experiences in life that come to matter more than anything else. And this was a great encounter that, for me, was also a welcome reprieve.

Has anyone else had an experience like this one? Isn't it amazing how fast we all become "just people" when the situation calls for it?

p.s. Cesar... hand to heart, I will never forget it. Thank you.