Readers, I am going to draw your attention to a phrase I've been hearing quite often that is really starting to sound just like nails on a chalkboard. Have you ever heard someone make an unbelievably bigoted remark about [insert minority group of any sort here]? Sure, you have. Bigots are unfortunately everywhere. Then, when you call the bigot on the inappropriateness of that comment, his or her first response is pretty much universal:
I didn't mean it that way! I have lots of [insert minority group of any sort here] friends!
Honestly, it's just ridiculous! I have heard it so much that I have begun to take the first words someone says about their Black or Hispanic or female or LGBT or Asian (or any other group they were previously disparaging) "friends" as a warning sign that they might be a bigot. Because no one who is truly open-minded or an ally would say that. You know why? Because they wouldn't make disparaging comments in the first place, and they would have those friends around them in the first place. Those folks who talk about their little rainbow coalition of buddies? I highly doubt they even have one minority they consider a friend. If their attitude is so prejudiced, I don't think that (a) any member of that group could stand them and (b) they would want any member of that group around them. I just don't believe they do.
Friends are NOT accessories. They are NOT there for you to put on display of "proof" of how awesome and open-minded and tolerant you supposedly are, when your actions are say the exact opposite. Actions speak louder than words. They are NOT for you to show off because it's supposedly going to make you look good. Treating someone as an accessory, as something that's not even human, is just as bad as being outright against them for their identity. In both cases, you've denied their humanity and made them into what you assume them to be.
I have a lot of different kinds of friends. Many don't look, talk, or act anything like me. And I like that. But you know one of the many reasons why we are close? Because we don't treat each other like accessories! We don't act like those friendships are simply there to make us look good, and we know that a relationship is a give and take. I'm not saying that race or gender or orientation or religion is something I don't notice. I do notice aspects of someone's identity. In fact, I do think identity matters in my friendships in the sense that anyone who mistreats my friends because of their identity WILL be faced with my wrath! We treat each other like the awesome folks we are.
Showing posts with label changes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label changes. Show all posts
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
The kids are all right
I'm the youngest person at my workplace, and even some of the interns are older than I am. I'm most often the youngest person at most of the conferences/convergences/committees that I'm a part of. As a recent college graduate, you'd probably expect that I would be among the youngest folks no matter what professional setting I'm in.
I don't necessarily mind that, since I can't change when I was born, and I'm pretty comfortable with most aspects of myself. The only thing that annoys me is when people make comments about it. I'm sure you know some of them, but here are some of them:
--"You sounded so much older on the phone/in your proposal/insert-situation-here."
--"You write/speak/present so well for your age."
--"You're a lot more mature for your years."
I know they are probably well-meaning, but does anyone besides me see the condescending nature of these comments?? What they're implying is that what a twentysomething writes or speaks about usually wouldn't have much merit, but I happen to be the exception. Or that twentysomethings usually aren't all that mature. And their comments really are not an observation about how young people act, but rather how they think young people act. I know that some folks may maintain that ageism is directed toward the older members of our society, but I don't think that it's any better or less harmful directed toward the younger members. In fact, it really underestimates and de-values their experiences for the same reason--age! It's equally awful, no matter who it's directed at.
Let me get this straight. I don't write well for my age. I write well. Period. My public speaking skills aren't good for my age. They're good. Period. Public speaking is something I like to do and really excel at. I'm not mature for my years. In most cases, I am just that, mature. (And in other cases, I'm quite the opposite, because, like everyone else, I'm human.) When talking to many funders, I would wager a guess that I'm a lot more knowledgable about crisis work than they are. It has nothing to do with age, but rather experience (which I have a lot of).
I think some of the deepest friendships and best professional relationships I've had with folks older than me (and by that I mean by at least a decade, not one or two years) have been with people who recognize the blessing that is their experiences and wisdom as well as recognizing that the young people have a good deal to share and contribute to the world as well. I think that's so important. It's one thing to realize the experience that comes with age, but it's also vital to recognize that experience and wisdom comes at all ages.
I don't necessarily mind that, since I can't change when I was born, and I'm pretty comfortable with most aspects of myself. The only thing that annoys me is when people make comments about it. I'm sure you know some of them, but here are some of them:
--"You sounded so much older on the phone/in your proposal/insert-situation-here."
--"You write/speak/present so well for your age."
--"You're a lot more mature for your years."
I know they are probably well-meaning, but does anyone besides me see the condescending nature of these comments?? What they're implying is that what a twentysomething writes or speaks about usually wouldn't have much merit, but I happen to be the exception. Or that twentysomethings usually aren't all that mature. And their comments really are not an observation about how young people act, but rather how they think young people act. I know that some folks may maintain that ageism is directed toward the older members of our society, but I don't think that it's any better or less harmful directed toward the younger members. In fact, it really underestimates and de-values their experiences for the same reason--age! It's equally awful, no matter who it's directed at.
Let me get this straight. I don't write well for my age. I write well. Period. My public speaking skills aren't good for my age. They're good. Period. Public speaking is something I like to do and really excel at. I'm not mature for my years. In most cases, I am just that, mature. (And in other cases, I'm quite the opposite, because, like everyone else, I'm human.) When talking to many funders, I would wager a guess that I'm a lot more knowledgable about crisis work than they are. It has nothing to do with age, but rather experience (which I have a lot of).
I think some of the deepest friendships and best professional relationships I've had with folks older than me (and by that I mean by at least a decade, not one or two years) have been with people who recognize the blessing that is their experiences and wisdom as well as recognizing that the young people have a good deal to share and contribute to the world as well. I think that's so important. It's one thing to realize the experience that comes with age, but it's also vital to recognize that experience and wisdom comes at all ages.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Be yourself!
The Big Fat GWS Conference is done. It's been over since December. It was a good event, though.
I was really glad that I had presented it. I talked to my advisor, Jacque at GWS, and she said that the senior capstone conference is always an event she looks forward to because of the variety of topics and expertise of the students.
I was talking to her about some of the decisions I had made throughout my college career, and as I spoke about them, I realized one of the biggest impetuses for anything I've done was to prove something. Not to any of my professors or classmates or friends...but to myself.
College has been such a time of re-defining, of remaking and reinventing myself. I was no longer the shy little geeky girl, and I had really come into my own. I've been the type to constantly push myself until I get exactly what I want. The conference, I figured, not only proved to the faculty and students that I could write about social services and field questions about them but also to myself, that I had the confidence and the drive to do so. I've acted in one of my favorite plays, "The Vagina Monologues," and it's been a totally rewarding experience. The actresses are lovely to meet and get to know, and the money goes to a good cause. But, again, part of the reason I've been in such an outrageous play is to prove that I can do it. The highschool/gradeschool version of me would never have had the nerve to talk about vaginas onstage, let alone ask the audience what theirs smelled like! And I certainly wouldn't have been able to speak for twenty minutes about my paper at the conference had I kept my shyness.
The same goes for this year's decisions. I made this past semester one of the most productive for Fem Maj, with three co-sponsorships and an even more popular panel. When I organized Sex Out Loud, I went over and into Illini Arcade and sat down with the manager to tell her exactly what we wanted her to do. She told me that the previous presidents didn't have the nerve to go into the store. Although some might raise their eyebrows at the thought of me in the sex shop, I needed to talk to the people I'd be including in the event. I wanted to show all the participants that I valued their presence, so I met with each of them personally before the event (with the exception of NARAL, but I talked on the phone with them). But I wanted to prove--to myself--that I could do better than just following in the footsteps of the previous presidents and forge a new era for Fem Maj.
They say to be yourself. But sometimes that "yourself" needs a little tweaking to make it the "yourself" you most want to identify as.
I was really glad that I had presented it. I talked to my advisor, Jacque at GWS, and she said that the senior capstone conference is always an event she looks forward to because of the variety of topics and expertise of the students.
I was talking to her about some of the decisions I had made throughout my college career, and as I spoke about them, I realized one of the biggest impetuses for anything I've done was to prove something. Not to any of my professors or classmates or friends...but to myself.
College has been such a time of re-defining, of remaking and reinventing myself. I was no longer the shy little geeky girl, and I had really come into my own. I've been the type to constantly push myself until I get exactly what I want. The conference, I figured, not only proved to the faculty and students that I could write about social services and field questions about them but also to myself, that I had the confidence and the drive to do so. I've acted in one of my favorite plays, "The Vagina Monologues," and it's been a totally rewarding experience. The actresses are lovely to meet and get to know, and the money goes to a good cause. But, again, part of the reason I've been in such an outrageous play is to prove that I can do it. The highschool/gradeschool version of me would never have had the nerve to talk about vaginas onstage, let alone ask the audience what theirs smelled like! And I certainly wouldn't have been able to speak for twenty minutes about my paper at the conference had I kept my shyness.
The same goes for this year's decisions. I made this past semester one of the most productive for Fem Maj, with three co-sponsorships and an even more popular panel. When I organized Sex Out Loud, I went over and into Illini Arcade and sat down with the manager to tell her exactly what we wanted her to do. She told me that the previous presidents didn't have the nerve to go into the store. Although some might raise their eyebrows at the thought of me in the sex shop, I needed to talk to the people I'd be including in the event. I wanted to show all the participants that I valued their presence, so I met with each of them personally before the event (with the exception of NARAL, but I talked on the phone with them). But I wanted to prove--to myself--that I could do better than just following in the footsteps of the previous presidents and forge a new era for Fem Maj.
They say to be yourself. But sometimes that "yourself" needs a little tweaking to make it the "yourself" you most want to identify as.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Everything's changing now...
We get a new treasurer for Fem Maj in the spring. We'll miss you, Christine!
There is a new director of advocacy, and she is...the vice director! Surprise!
General Eccentric, Moonstruck, Bar Giuliani, and Garcia's have all closed or will close for good.
Wow.
Although one thing has not changed.
The grad school process is STILL kicking my butt! If this keeps up, I'll go certifiably insane!
There is a new director of advocacy, and she is...the vice director! Surprise!
General Eccentric, Moonstruck, Bar Giuliani, and Garcia's have all closed or will close for good.
Wow.
Although one thing has not changed.
The grad school process is STILL kicking my butt! If this keeps up, I'll go certifiably insane!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Who says you can't go home?
With summer starting within a couple of days, I figured it was appropriate to make note of something I've been feeling pretty strongly these past couple of weeks. It seems like the places that are the most like home to me are the places I've sought out myself and/or created for myself. I don't mean to diss my family. My family is lovely, and I am certainly looking forward to seeing them. ALL of them!
But it seems as though I've felt the most welcome and been the most accepted in places where they know me and me alone/first. I haven't been very good at keeping in touch with high school friends. Many of us have kind of grown apart, or I've been the only one keeping the friendship alive. The place where I'm working is incredibly cliquish. I'm not trying to whine or be bitchy, but it really annoys me when it seems as though I'm making all of the effort to reach out and be friendly and no one reciprocates. I know I'm not shy anymore, and I do my best to remember important things about people. The weird thing is, when I'm back up north, I feel as though I'm just putting on a performance for people. It just feels kind of wrong...shouldn't your home be the first place where you feel like...well...you? I can't discuss many of my activities around certain relatives or high/grade school friends and certainly not around coworkers. If I told some of my coworkers that I was the Feminist Majority co-president for next year or that I participated in the Day of Silence, you can bet that they'd go out of their way to avoid me. If I told some extended relatives (not immediate ones...more like the ones you don't see as often) or high/school friends about the Ayyam-i-hah party I went to in February, they'd look at me like I was speaking Latin or something (although, technically the word "Ayyam-i-hah" is Farsi, not Latin). Even my own parents have asked me to tone down what I talk about, like my advocacy work or declaring. Topics like those are outside of the mainstream and outside of people's comfort zones, I guess.
Maybe I'm overreacting.
I just think that my experience in college has completely made up for all of that. Here, people know me for me. Not because they know my parents and by default know me because I'm their kid. Not just because I've lived there 10+ years. Not just because I obligatorily have to go there. People like me because they want to, not because they have to. I know that I'm not the most "ideal" friend--I can be a pretty polarizing and opinionated individual, and I can be a total bitch when I want to be (hell, I used that in one of my campaign speeches! I said, "I can totally bitch at people to make them vote. I'm a real live bitch!" when I ran for outreach director. I lost, but I did make 'em laugh!). But the communities I've either enjoyed being a part of or formed have all accepted me for me. Not for anything else. None of my professors know the rest of my family. They like my work because I do my best and it shows. They respect me because I put in a lot of hard work and talk my head off in discussion section (it's not unusual for a professor to tell me to let someone else talk for a change!). When I started attending devotions, I didn't know anyone there when I went the first time. But the people in the ECI cluster like me because we've taken the time to get to know each other. I didn't become friendly with them because they knew one of my relatives or lived near me, and they're just as nice to me as a declarant as they were to me as a seeker. Every club that I've joined is accepting of me because they know me and they know my work. I felt more like myself among my monologists (and that WAS a REAL performance!). At the Spring Social in April, I had a blast going around the teamster hall and introducing myself to all the other activists and talking with them. (And I didn't know anyone outside the planning committee! By the end, I had met all these cool new activisty people, and they gave me great suggestions for getting my word out!)
They say that home is what you make of it. I say it's what you make for yourself. I've found so much more respect and acceptance when I've been the one initiating it or making the opportunities for myself. While I am certainly looking forward to vacation and my lovely family and of course the fabulous concerts, I also am looking forward to the next school year.
But it seems as though I've felt the most welcome and been the most accepted in places where they know me and me alone/first. I haven't been very good at keeping in touch with high school friends. Many of us have kind of grown apart, or I've been the only one keeping the friendship alive. The place where I'm working is incredibly cliquish. I'm not trying to whine or be bitchy, but it really annoys me when it seems as though I'm making all of the effort to reach out and be friendly and no one reciprocates. I know I'm not shy anymore, and I do my best to remember important things about people. The weird thing is, when I'm back up north, I feel as though I'm just putting on a performance for people. It just feels kind of wrong...shouldn't your home be the first place where you feel like...well...you? I can't discuss many of my activities around certain relatives or high/grade school friends and certainly not around coworkers. If I told some of my coworkers that I was the Feminist Majority co-president for next year or that I participated in the Day of Silence, you can bet that they'd go out of their way to avoid me. If I told some extended relatives (not immediate ones...more like the ones you don't see as often) or high/school friends about the Ayyam-i-hah party I went to in February, they'd look at me like I was speaking Latin or something (although, technically the word "Ayyam-i-hah" is Farsi, not Latin). Even my own parents have asked me to tone down what I talk about, like my advocacy work or declaring. Topics like those are outside of the mainstream and outside of people's comfort zones, I guess.
Maybe I'm overreacting.
I just think that my experience in college has completely made up for all of that. Here, people know me for me. Not because they know my parents and by default know me because I'm their kid. Not just because I've lived there 10+ years. Not just because I obligatorily have to go there. People like me because they want to, not because they have to. I know that I'm not the most "ideal" friend--I can be a pretty polarizing and opinionated individual, and I can be a total bitch when I want to be (hell, I used that in one of my campaign speeches! I said, "I can totally bitch at people to make them vote. I'm a real live bitch!" when I ran for outreach director. I lost, but I did make 'em laugh!). But the communities I've either enjoyed being a part of or formed have all accepted me for me. Not for anything else. None of my professors know the rest of my family. They like my work because I do my best and it shows. They respect me because I put in a lot of hard work and talk my head off in discussion section (it's not unusual for a professor to tell me to let someone else talk for a change!). When I started attending devotions, I didn't know anyone there when I went the first time. But the people in the ECI cluster like me because we've taken the time to get to know each other. I didn't become friendly with them because they knew one of my relatives or lived near me, and they're just as nice to me as a declarant as they were to me as a seeker. Every club that I've joined is accepting of me because they know me and they know my work. I felt more like myself among my monologists (and that WAS a REAL performance!). At the Spring Social in April, I had a blast going around the teamster hall and introducing myself to all the other activists and talking with them. (And I didn't know anyone outside the planning committee! By the end, I had met all these cool new activisty people, and they gave me great suggestions for getting my word out!)
They say that home is what you make of it. I say it's what you make for yourself. I've found so much more respect and acceptance when I've been the one initiating it or making the opportunities for myself. While I am certainly looking forward to vacation and my lovely family and of course the fabulous concerts, I also am looking forward to the next school year.
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