Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Graduate School - Day 25


This little guy is a Tufted Titmouse. His name is Tiny Tim. He battles daily for a spot on our bird feeder against a constant throng of house finches. 

He's a fighter.

Years ago, when I was in middle school, I was attending a Christian school--a little small town organization run by a local pastor out of his church. Kindergarten all the way up through 12th grade, but only abut 100 students total. Sixth through twelfth grade was all in the same classroom (a recipe for disaster) and there were about 30 of us.

Two of the students, Nathan and Paul, were members of that particular church-school, along with their family. Nathan was in eleventh grade, built like a brick, and he was a physical bully. He would kick you in the back as you walked down the hall, and when you fell over, he'd laugh. Fighting back did nothing to earn his respect, he would just pound you again and call you a pussy. Paul, his brother, was in tenth grade, and a verbal bully. He would find things about you that were odd, or not "up to code", and trash you in front of everyone. If you tried to shut his mouth for him, Nathan would jump in front of you and kick you to the ground. Afterward, both of them would laugh at you. You quickly learned who owned this school, because if you reported this to the teachers, no consequences were meted out beyond a "we'll have a talk with him".

(The "talk" usually resulted in you being cornered behind the building by Nathan.)

Being in Nathan and Paul's good graces were the only way you were going to survive in this school, and those brothers weren't going anywhere. Their parents were BIG tithers, and donors.

I remember one day out on the playground, Nathan had one little boy, Robbie, pinned against a tree. He'd tickled him mercilessly until he wet his pants, a dark stain now down the front of his jeans. A crowd of students had gathered, and Paul was hyping them up.

"We need a name for Robbie. He ain't gonna be Robbie anymore. Should we call him piss-pants, or faggot?" he asked.

Laughter.

"All for piss-pants, say PISS-PANTS."

Laughter, mixed with piss-pants.

"All for faggot, say FAGGOT."

The faggots won.

Audience participation at it's finest.

Some students reasoned that Robbie was probably gay, and continued to call him faggot.

......

That year, on awards night, two particular awards were given out to specific students who showed exemplary character and representation of what Christ was to his disciples--examples of leadership and compassion.

Nathan won for leadership.

Paul won for compassion.

It's easy to say "Well that was corrupt behavior by the school based on favoritism and financial interest." But there is something to be said for Nathan and Paul's popularity and influence as causality

Administration defended them because they were members of the church, and "we must remember that only God can judge them". Students defended them out of fear, but also, there was a level of entertainment value when you were not the one being pinned to the wall.

Christian adults defended them, even though they did horrible things. Could Nathan and Paul quote the bible? Oh yes, their parents had them at church every Sunday. But their behavior was disgraceful.

It has continually amazed me how good people defend and support bullies, then when those bullies attack, those same people say "Well you should have stood up to them." or "Oh, he's not all that bad. He's just had a rough life."

(I want no part of Christians who defend bullies' behavior. None. For any reason. If you are a Christian and you defend bullying, no matter what the reason, I'm done with you.) 

This is why I am majoring in sociology. So that I can unpack why supposedly good people defend and rationalize the behavior of bad people.

But most of all, to be a voice for the marginalized. Especially the ones who are told they are asking for "too much" or that they are "being too sensitive".

Friday, March 5, 2021

Body Automony - Day 24

 

I like hugs. 

Check that; I love hugs. I am a hugging person. (If I like you.)

But not everybody likes hugs. 

Some people are "touch-me-nots", and that's how it is.

Some people like hugs, but only from certain people.

Some people only want a hug if THEY ask for one.

Some people only want side-hugs.

And all of that is okay

We got this book from the library today, and it is excellent:












One day, years ago, I was at someone's house for Christmas, and a family member arrived to say hello and Merry Christmas. The family member was a man, and was obviously someone the kids recognized. He got down on one knee, held out his arms, and said "Come here!" The oldest kid, (Jenna) who was about 8, cried out "Uncle Jake!" and ran over to him, hugging him. The younger child (Jeffrey) did not. Mom, seeing this, said to the Jeffrey "Now don't be mean. Go over and hug Uncle Jake. You'll make him sad."

Whoa. 

Back the truck up.

Never, ever do that to a kid. 

You are telling that child that they are obligated to touch this person in a way that makes them uncomfortable, and that if they don't, they are responsible for that person being sad. You are making that child's desire to retain their body autonomy something to be ashamed of, and guilt tripping them into feeling violated.

Maybe at one point in Jeffrey's life, Uncle Jake touched him in a way that made him afraid of him. Maybe it was an accident, maybe not.

Maybe Uncle Jake has nothing to do with this, but another family member touched him that way. Or maybe his teacher did. Or his coach. Or a stranger did. You don't know. So by making Jeffrey hug Uncle Jake, you are adding to his trauma.

Or, maybe, like Doug, Jeffrey just doesn't like hugs.

This also extends to terms of endearment or words of affection. Another time, I was at someone's house and a female family member, the child's grandmother arrived and after she talked with mom for a bit, looked over at the child and said "Well, Nanny has to go. I love you, Kay Kay."

Kay Kay smiled and waved.

Mom said "Kay Kay, that's rude. Tell Nanny you love her."

Kay Kay lowered her eyes and buried her face in her hands.

Mom: "Kay Kay. Tell your grandmother you love her. She brought you toys last time. You are hurting her feelings."

Kay Kay started crying, but said "I love you."

Grandma extended her arms for a hug.

Kay Kay complied, awkwardly, and then went and sat back down.

When Grandma left, mom scolded Kay Kay for being mean and not "Giving Nanny loves."

The thing is, maybe Kay Kay doesn't love Nanny like that. Maybe she likes Nanny, but doesn't love her--yet.

Or maybe, Nanny has done something that made Kay Kay nervous at some point; perhaps on accident, perhaps not.

Body autonomy extends to verbal. If we teach our children that they must respond in kind to statements of affection from people, we take away their right to their outward feelings and inject the idea that their words are not their own.

Kay Kay may love Nanny, but she just doesn't want to say it.

Kay Kay may not love Nanny right now, but maybe she will one day.

Kay Kay may never love Nanny like that. 

And all of that is okay.

The Covid pandemic (for those among us who took it seriously, as they should) brought about the concept of "elbow bumps" and "air hugs". I can't help but think how many people were overjoyed at this, because now they have an excuse for not hugging or touching.

Let's keep that going. 

I myself like hugs. 

No, I love hugs. (As long as I like you.)

But not everyone does.

Don't make your kids hug people, or make them say "I love you." to them.

The end.