Category: human behavior

The Power of Words

I often begin blog posts by referring to an interview or podcast I listened to. This one is no exception. George Packer, a journalist and novelist perhaps best known for his writings on American foreign policy, was a guest on Preet Bharara’s Stay Tuned. Most of their discussion was about the status of the United States as a world leader (lots to worry about there, but not the subject of this essay). Toward the end of the interview, they turned to a subject of particular interest to me – the use of language and whether we are increasingly limiting ourselves by removing words that have negative connotations. It is a variation of the idea that it is problematic to be ‘woke.’  As I wrote previously, I strive to be woke and see it as a good thing. However, I thought Mr. Packer had a point. He wasn’t taking aim at ‘wokeness,’ per se, he was voicing his concern that, taken to an extreme, the idea that we can’t hurt anyone’s feelings could prevent us from identifying and solving serious problems. The example he gave related to words used to describe poverty – for instance, poor, impoverished, disadvantaged, at-risk. Apparently, all of these words/phrases have been identified as loaded and therefore to be avoided.

First question: who is doing the identifying? Packer explained that many nonprofit organizations, he cited the Sierra Club as a prominent one, have come out with ‘equity guides.’ These guides provide lists of words that should not be used, and he said they provide clunky, bland alternatives (for example, instead of ‘paralyzed with fear,’ they substitute refused to take action). He characterized the people behind these guides as a small group of educated elites. He thought that though they were well-intentioned, they were doing more harm than good. Packer’s main point was that we need to be less worried about the words and more concerned about the underlying problem that the word describes. I was intrigued by his argument.

I wondered if I would draw the same conclusion as Packer if I looked at the guide, so I googled a few. I also read his article in the Atlantic in which he fleshes out his argument (https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2023/04/equity-language-guides-sierra-club-banned-words/673085/).

The Sierra Club equity guide is a 30 page pamphlet which provides much food for thought (here is the link if you want to check it out yourself https://www.sierraclub.org/sites/default/files/sce-authors/u12332/Equity%20Language%20Guide%20Sierra%20Club%202021.pdf). Included in it are references to many other style guides (I counted 9 of them!) as source material.

First, some context. Most news organizations and magazines have style guides – the Associated Press (AP) style guide is one that is frequently cited. If you write for those entities, they have established standards you are expected to follow. Organizations which put out frequent press releases or social media posts or are routinely called upon by the media to express positions are also likely to have one – that is why the Sierra Club has one, as does the American Cancer Society. The equity guide is an offshoot (part of) of the style guide.

Another aspect of the context relates to the Sierra Club specifically. They, like many organizations, have a complicated history in terms of their relationship to historically marginalized communities. In the past the club has mostly been thought of as the purview of white, male environmentalists. As the country has changed, and as the damage done by climate change has hit more broadly, they have needed to reach a more diverse constituency. If they are going to do that successfully, they need to understand those communities and use accessible language. They have taken positions in the past that hurt those communities.  In addition, the original founder, John Muir, was known to use racist language. Thus, the organization felt it had some work to do to repair the damage. That said, equity guides are prevalent beyond this particular nonprofit and Packer believes that as it seeps into the mainstream, it will erode our ability to tell the truth.

So, is there a problem with the equity guide, as Packer argues? My conclusion: Yes and no.

The main impetus of the guide is to remind its users to put people first. I became acquainted with this notion years ago when I was cautioned not to refer to a person with diabetes as a diabetic. A person is more than any single aspect of their identity, whether it be their illness, disability, religion, occupation, etc. It may not seem like a big thing, but I believe it is meaningful and worth reminding folks.

Another main point of the pamphlet is to ask people how they would like to be identified. It reminds us not to make assumptions based on appearance, and to use the terms the individual themselves would like to use. This applies especially to race and gender. To me this is common sense advice and simple enough to follow.

They also ask writers to evaluate whether the descriptor is germane to the subject. Do we need to know the person’s age or race or gender? We are conditioned to include some of those characteristics, but it is worth asking ourselves the question. Is it relevant or does it just contribute to stereotyping? If we are trying to paint a picture of a person or a situation, maybe more specific adjectives would do a better job.

So far so good.

Where things get problematic, and where Packer has a point, is in the avoidance of words that make us uncomfortable. If we are talking about poverty, neighborhoods that are poor, we can’t use euphemisms. It is what it is. The folks who live in those communities know they are poor and/or working class. It won’t come as a surprise to them. The problem isn’t the words. The problem is, in my estimation, the assumptions that get made because of that condition. Just as we should not define an individual by a single characteristic (diabetic), we must not define a whole community by one issue (i.e., its crime rate or the percent who live below the poverty line). We often write-off those communities or try to ignore them. But, we must not ignore all the people who are trying to raise families, make a living, lead healthy, productive lives in those communities. We need to remember that in those communities lots of good things are happening – there is culture, art, humor, good food, etc., etc. No matter what words we ultimately use to describe poverty, it is the associated assumptions that are dangerous, not the words themselves.

Words have power. We need to be mindful of how we use them. Sometimes we need to vividly describe a problem to move people to action. At the same time, we shouldn’t be careless about hurting folks. On balance, I think the equity guides are a good thing. Some of its advice borders on silly (I sincerely doubt that a person in a wheelchair would be offended by using the phrase ‘paralyzed with fear,’ or that a blind person would object to the phrase ‘blind rage’ – though it would be interesting to ask a group), but users of the guide can make their own judgments. In fact, the pamphlets make a point of telling readers to do that, especially in view of regional and local standards. The guides could be problematic if a given organization implements it as if it is law, without leaving room for nuance or the wisdom of the people on the ground. But, if it is a tool to raise awareness and offer alternatives, then it isn’t the bogeyman Packer sets it up to be. As with many things, the question of whether it is a good or bad thing depends on how it is used.

Appearances

Me in 7th and 9th grade
me more recently

I am not a conventionally attractive woman. I don’t write that to fish for compliments or to elicit sympathy. It is a fact, and it has complicated implications. I am reading a memoir, Crying in the Bathroom by Erika Sanchez and in the course of telling her story as a Mexican-American woman who has defied cultural norms, she writes of her numerous experiences being harassed, and in some cases (nearly) assaulted, by men. She writes about her problematic relationship with her appearance. I have read many similar accounts by women, especially as we processed all that was revealed from the ‘me too’ movement. I have heard first-hand stories from friends, too. I believe them and they are painful and emblematic of the reality of toxic masculinity. It has not been my experience, though, and that leads to some complicated feelings. In a bizarre way it makes me wonder what is wrong with me, and am I alone is not having those experiences?

That is not to suggest that these experiences are all attributed to the looks of the women involved, or to blame the victim for being attractive! No matter what you look like, you should not be subjected to abuse. I am well aware that 80 year old women get raped, as do ‘unattractive’ women. I also believe that systemic sexism exists. Strong women are often discriminated against in relationships and in the workplace – I have seen that with my own eyes and believe I was the victim of it. That has less to do with appearances and more to do with societal expectations about women’s behavior and/or generalized misogyny.

I also know that research shows that resumés with women’s names or names associated with African-Americans are passed over in favor of men or those with what are assumed to be white names. This has implications for job opportunities, access to loans, among other things that shape power structures in our society.

Appearances, meeting the culturally defined standards of beauty, are so important. I believe that one’s experience of the world is shaped to a more significant degree than we’d like to believe by how we look, and this is true even as an otherwise privileged white woman. From the reaction of salespeople to service received when lodging a complaint, one’s looks can help or hinder. It might be true for men too, but I doubt to the same degree.

I have been out and about with my granddaughters, both of whom are or were especially adorable babies (one is well past the baby stage). I know you are rolling your eyes and I get that – I am their nana, after all. I know I am not objective, but I am basing it on the reaction of those who walk by. Often people stop to comment or coo at them. I appreciate babies, though I almost never stop to comment or coo unless it is the child or grandchild or someone I know. I probably do smile more in recognition of a cutie pie. (Now that I am thinking about it, I will make a point of smiling at all of them. I hope I do that already, but honestly, I’m not sure.) Sometimes if a baby is odd looking, they can have a unique charm. All deserve love and attention regardless. The reality is the world doesn’t react equally. When I was a baby, I had crossed eyes. They were glued to my nose. It wasn’t successfully fixed until I was five and surgery didn’t totally correct the problem. I think people responded accordingly. I absorbed the message that I wasn’t pretty or notable. We take in those messages long before we have the language to talk about it or understand it.

Does this all mean that we shouldn’t appreciate or comment when a child or a person is especially beautiful? Would we be losing something if we decided that it was inappropriate to say, “what a cute baby!” or telling a woman she looks beautiful?  I don’t think we need to go that far. Maybe we should simply be more mindful when it comes to giving advantages to some over others based on something so superficial.

When the ‘me too’ movement started I had some interesting conversations with friends. I grew up in a time when some things were taken for granted and accepted. One friend made the comment that you were almost insulted if a guy didn’t try to ‘cop a feel.’ She talked about the kind of flirting and ‘handsy’ fooling around that went on when groups of guys and girls hung out. No one wanted to be sexually assaulted, but a level of sexual play was tolerated and perhaps expected. I understood what she was saying, though, again it wasn’t my experience.

I know many women who were fed up with or frightened by catcalls from men. Who wants to be objectified while they are walking down the street, or any time? My mother, again the product of another generation, thought it was flattering. I know if it crossed the line, where she felt threatened, it wouldn’t have been appreciated. But, she didn’t see it as that big of a deal. Though many women talk of this as ubiquitous, again, it was not so much my experience. If it happened, I probably assumed it was directed at someone else, or I was oblivious. I do recall a drunk guy once weaving past me saying, “Look at the breasts on that bitch!” I was impressed he called them breasts. Have catcalls stopped? Have we moved beyond that crude behavior? Maybe, or perhaps we have ‘progressed’ to silently leering.

I imagine it can be confusing for those blessed with beauty, too. It isn’t based on anything earned, and one might resent it or feel frustrated that their appearance gets the reaction, not other talents or intelligence. Others may be quite comfortable enjoying the benefits, though I’m sure they would be loathe to admit it. Either way, it isn’t fair.

My point in writing this is two-fold. First, though I did not experience the hostility or harassment other women talk about, it does not make it untrue. We need to listen to others and understand their experience but that is a two-way street. I was listening to an interview with an Asian comedian. He talked about growing up in Ohio. He did not feel discriminated against. He was almost apologetic about it. He knew it happened to others, but he didn’t feel like he was subjected to it. His perception helped shape his appreciation for America. He shouldn’t feel guilty telling his story. I shouldn’t feel guilty that my experience of men hasn’t been that toxic (though I will complain bitterly about feeling limited in the workplace, having my ideas coopted or shut down). We benefit from understanding the range of human experience. Similarly, just because I wasn’t subjected to disrespect or harassment based on my appearance, doesn’t mean I get to dismiss the experience of so many other women. There is room for everyone’s story, and we need to open our hearts and minds to hearing them.

My second reason for writing this is to bring attention to the outsize effect of looks. We place far too much emphasis on appearances.  Standards of beauty are very limiting, and the implications are important. Being conscious of a predisposition can help us to work to do better. This applies in many contexts. I think teachers, in particular, may be vulnerable to implicit biases based on appearances, and they are so powerful in our lives. We talk about racism (not enough, and we haven’t fixed it by any means, but a lot is written about it) and gender, but this is even more basic. Being conventionally pretty shouldn’t be that important.

“Woke”

Note: Today is my son’s birthday. Today’s essay has nothing to do with that, so I want to give a shout out to him here. Daniel, you are a treasure and I love you beyond measure. See what I did there – I was channeling your father. Wishing you a wonderful day and an even better year ahead with your fabulous family!

Last week Gary and I were visiting with family and friends in Florida. Several different people made the same comment: ‘I don’t know what ‘woke’ means. I don’t get it. What does it mean?’

It wasn’t entirely clear to me where the folks raising the question were coming from. We were in Florida after all, where, I imagine, the word gets bandied about regularly –  most often by Governor DeSantis who uses it as a punching bag, a politically expedient bogeyman. In those conversations I didn’t want to pursue the topic too far because we were having a relaxed, enjoyable visit – we were on vacation. Now I am back home, and the question lingers, and I feel unsatisfied in not addressing it.

I believe I have something to offer to the discussion. I’d like to suggest an analogy. Let’s say you have a longtime friend, someone you’ve known since childhood, whose nickname was Shorty. You and his family and friends have always called him that. Now, as an adult, this person, whose given name is Joseph, tells you they don’t like the nickname and would prefer to be called Joe. I would hope, as a sentient human being, who respects the years of friendship, you would say, “I didn’t realize it bothered you. I will call you Joe.” To my mind, that is an example of being ‘woke.’ You have heard someone’s concern and you have responded accordingly.

You might be tempted to respond by saying, “We call you Shorty with affection. It’s cute. You aren’t short anymore, what’s the problem?” You may be thinking, ‘it’s no big deal, why is he making a thing of it.’ But, while you may have those thoughts, hopefully you would resist giving voice to them and respect their wishes.

I think a ‘woke’ person responds with an open mind, is willing to hear a person’s concerns and change the words they use in accordance with their wishes. It is really that simple.

Human behavior, though, isn’t that simple. At the risk of stretching the analogy too far, I’d like to take a closer look at the dynamic.

The first step is Joe being willing to say how they feel. It may have taken years of feeling insulted or uncomfortable for him to finally tell people to stop calling him Shorty. I don’t know about you, but I want to be a person that Joe can approach. I want to communicate to my friends and family that I am open to hearing what they need. I don’t want anyone to worry that I would make fun of them or be dismissive. To me that is part of being ‘woke.’

Let’s say some time passes and the next time you see Joe you call them Shorty – old habits die hard. Here’s another opportunity. It is possible that Joe loses it and gets angry. To my mind that would be unfortunate, perhaps understandable, but an extreme reaction. Let’s assume for the moment, he doesn’t react that way, but instead just gives you a look that communicates his displeasure. Hopefully you would apologize, saying that you will try harder to get it right and please be a bit patient. In that situation, if you offer a sincere apology and offer to do better, you are ‘woke.’

Now instead of this operating on a personal level, expand the idea more broadly. Representatives of a community disavow a term that has long been in use. Why not stop using it? Not every single person in that community might agree, some may not find it insulting. Communities are rarely monolithic. But, when a consensus emerges, why not respect it?

Similarly, when we come to understand more about our history, for example we learn more about treatment of Native Americans at residential schools, we need to acknowledge it. It doesn’t displace everything else we know, it doesn’t necessarily become the focus of the narrative of the story of our country, but it can’t be swept under the rug and ignored either. There is a balance. Our children are capable of understanding that – the good, the bad and the ugly. Again, there may be extremists who want the story of America to be shaped entirely by slavery. I think that would be a distortion. Thomas Jefferson and George Washington should be examined as the complex figures that they were – the great ideas and leadership they provided along with the things they got wrong.

The truth is, we shouldn’t need concepts of ‘woke’ or ‘politically correct.’ If people exercised compassion and empathy, we wouldn’t. If people acknowledged that there is always more to learn about history, about cultures other than our own (and even our own), we wouldn’t need ‘wokeness.’ Sadly, many people are not capable of that without being ‘policed.’

There is no doubt there are people who overreact. There are those who are unwilling to be forgiving of others who slip and use outdated language, or of those who simply haven’t kept up. It takes two to tango. There is nothing gained by being so strident and rigid. Some of that may come from a lack of trust, from not believing in the sincerity of those who profess to be trying. I come back again to a tenet of Anti-Defamation League training – which says that you should start by assuming the best of intentions on the part of the other person. They may prove unworthy of that assumption but start by giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Based on my understanding, I see nothing wrong with being ‘woke,’ or ‘politically correct.’ It is something I work on.

“Born a Crime”

I like Trevor Noah. Though it was a little traumatic for me when Jon Stewart left the Daily Show, I think Noah did a good job. I appreciated his voice (his take on things), intelligence and talent. He is a good interviewer, quick on his feet and charming. When he performed locally, Gary and I went to see him, and we were very entertained. I laughed a lot. I recently read his memoir, Born a Crime, and I still appreciate his viewpoint, he has had unique life experiences as a mixed race person who grew up in South Africa as apartheid was being dismantled, but I will admit to discomfort with some passages of the book He recounts three experiences that troubled me.

I don’t want to focus on those three incidents without first acknowledging the insightful and compelling parts of the book.

It is quite startling to understand the reality that is reflected in the book’s title. Trevor Noah is the child of a Xhosa woman and Swiss father. Their union, they were not married and couldn’t be, was illegal in South Africa in 1984. Thus, his very existence was the result of a criminal act. It is hard to wrap my brain around that, and to realize that miscegenation was decriminalized only a couple of decades before that in the United States– in my lifetime. To some that may seem a long time ago, but when you consider how long it takes to really change hearts and minds, it isn’t that much time.

Noah details what that meant for his family. He couldn’t walk on the street with his father. Even walking with his mother was complicated since to some Noah appeared white or ‘colored,’ but not black like she was. He spent much of his childhood playing indoors.

Anyone who has watched Trevor Noah knows that he has a great facility for languages (he does uncanny imitations of different accents, too). He talks about the importance of language and how it acts as a double-edged sword. Language carries culture and values in its idioms and rules. It can bond people. He points out, though, that in South Africa, as of the writing of his book, there are 11 official languages, it can also be something that divides people. They may not understand each other and may not make the effort to understand each other. He recounts a number of instances where his ability to communicate in different languages got him out of trouble or helped make a connection.

He also writes insightfully about the cycle of poverty and how difficult it is to move beyond the circumstances one is born into. The pressures to conform which play out in a myriad of ways and the systematic barriers combine to keep people in their places. His mother is an unusual person, she was someone who saw beyond the imposed limitations and refused to be constrained by those expectations. Ultimately, Noah finds his way to a different life, but it takes him a bit to decide for himself that he wanted to do that. It is an interesting journey.

The book does not cover his emergence as a comedian in the United States. It only mentions his success in South Africa in passing. The focus is on his experience growing up as someone who navigated different worlds – the challenges he faced and the tools he used to do it. He also shares the impact that domestic violence had on him as he writes about his mother’s experience with an abusive man. It offers a compelling story.

One incident that left me uncomfortable was his cavalier response to the killing of his cat. He was a young child at the time, but older than 5. He had a black cat. He writes that he wasn’t that attached to it (given the nature of cats) and to some in his neighborhood black cats were associated with witchcraft. So when he finds it dead (and evidently tortured – I won’t go into details), he isn’t that surprised or upset. I found that disturbing. I would hope that one would have feelings for any creature that had been harmed, much less tortured. I couldn’t let him off the hook just because he was young. It struck me as odd, even if there are cultural differences in attitudes towards pets and cats in particular. If it is a reflection of a cultural difference, I can’t help but judge it.

Another thing that I thought reflected poorly on him involved an escapade with a close friend. They found a store in the local mall that when it was closed, and the grate was down, they could still reach in to snatch chocolates. They did this regularly until one time security saw them and gave chase. He and his friend ended up running in separate directions. Noah got away and his friend got caught. What bothered me is that Noah made no mention of feeling bad for his friend, in fact that friend is not mentioned again in the book. He was about 13 at the time. Maybe that was just a matter of editing – not closing the loop on that experience. But that lack of sympathy for his friend troubled me more than the stealing.

You may look at those two incidents and chalk them up to youth and credit him with writing honestly about his childhood. I appreciate that he wasn’t painting himself as some kind of hero. But, it raised questions about his capacity for empathy.

Part of the narrative he is telling is how endemic cutting corners and flouting the law is (buying and selling stolen items was common) and how it took him a while to see it and decide to go a different way. He does ultimately distance himself from those activities, but it took some close calls and hard realities to get him there. In offering insight into that, it is enlightening, and one can see that not everyone would or could emerge successfully from it.

The third episode was the most disturbing because he is writing this book years after the fact and he could have added a more informed perspective if he chose to, but he didn’t. The title of the chapter is “Go Hitler.” He explains that a buddy of his, who was a skilled dancer, had the first name Hitler. Apparently in South Africa, in the black community, this was not that unusual of a name (wow!). Noah goes on to say that their awareness of Hitler’s atrocities was limited – it wasn’t explored in school – he was seen as more of a strongman than as a perpetrator of genocide. While this is distressing for me to learn, it is useful to understand.

One of the things Noah did as a teenager to earn money was to DJ. He had a crew of dancers that performed with him, Hitler being the star dancer. Their final number involved him getting in the center of a circle and the other dancers and Noah chanting, “Go Hitler.” This didn’t trouble anyone when they did their act in the townships. They were invited to a competition at a Jewish day school, and they were doing fine until that number. Noah claims he didn’t understand why the atmosphere changed, why they pulled the plug, why they got yelled at. He thought it was for their suggestive dance movements. He was outraged that they were treated that way – since they had been invited specifically to showcase cultural diversity.

Writing about this years later, he doesn’t show much empathy or understanding. He says that the reason we know there were six million Jews killed is because Germany kept meticulous records. In Africa, when colonialists abused and killed native peoples, no records were kept, thus we have no numbers. He seems to suggest that if those records were kept, our attitude would be different. Maybe it would be. We should have more understanding of the brutality and exploitation inherent in the colonial system in Africa. That is a valid point, but it doesn’t negate the suffering of the Jews in Eastern Europe. It doesn’t mean that the students and staff at the Jewish day school shouldn’t react to hearing “Go Hitler.” Just reading the chapter title sent shivers down my spine.

I am not interested in comparing atrocities or competing to see who had it worse. One would hope, though, as a member of an oppressed, vicitimized people, Noah’s response would be compassion. How about, having learned now about Hitler’s evil, now understanding the nature of the genocide he would include a statement such as, “Now I understand their reaction; then I didn’t.” He doesn’t write anything of the sort.

I was not aware, until reading Noah’s book, about the history of South Africa. It was not included in the curriculum in my high school’s global history class. I am not an expert having read his book, after all it is one account. But, my eyes were opened to the reality of apartheid (not that I didn’t understand it was an unjust, despicable system before) and the complications involved in dismantling it. I also am now more aware of the different tribes that comprise the black community. The history of that country, once again, illustrates the capacity of human beings to be evil, selfish and ignorant.

I recommend reading Born A Crime. It is compelling and insightful. It raises challenging questions about how we educate ourselves. It is unrealistic for us to learn the history of every country. Clearly, we have problems agreeing on the history of the United States and what to teach our children, never mind trying to cover the history of the nations of the world. There aren’t enough hours in the day to learn it all. But, it speaks to the need to continue to learn, to continue to read and to be open to different perspectives – even when it is troubling.

Self-Care

If I spent all my time taking care of myself, following all the doctors’ directions, therapists’ advice, self-help manuals, I wouldn’t have time to actually DO anything! And I am a retired person and my children are adults who are living on their own. If I had a full-time job and young children, it would be nearly impossible.

Since last May I have been dealing with chronic hoarseness. After a number of exams and scoping of my vocal cords, I was referred for speech therapy. Fortunately, that testing didn’t find any growths, but noted a combination of the effects of reflux and muscle compression. The speech therapist did a thorough evaluation and recommended vocal exercises. She also gave me papers with foods to avoid (two pages worth) and foods that are encouraged (a small list). I also received some stretches to focus on loosening the neck muscles. I am supposed to do the stretching and vocal exercises 3 to 5 times per day. The protocol takes about 5 to 7 minutes. So far, I have been managing to do it twice a day and feel pretty damn proud of myself.

Another part of the routine recommended by the ENT, to help with congestion, is to use a netti pot and saline spray. I do the nasal rinse once a day and the spray twice. These take another 5 minutes. I’m also supposed to use a humidifier. Setting that up and taking it apart each day is another 5 minutes.

All of the stuff to try and deal with these throat and ear difficulties add up to at about 45 minutes each day.

In theory, these are the other parts of my self-care routine:

  • Waking up – brush teeth, take daily pills, wash face, comb hair – 10 minutes
  • Make the bed – several advice gurus stress the importance of starting the day by making the bed – I subscribe to that idea – 3 minutes
  • Exercise (at least 20 minutes but I actually do 35 either walking outside or on the treadmill) – if it is vigorous enough, it requires showering after, so add another 20 minutes. I am quick in the shower, so 25 minutes allows for getting dressed, too. I also play tennis once or twice every other week, each time 90 minutes (add another hour for driving to and from the courts).
  • Meditation – 10 minutes
  • Shower or bath – if I haven’t exercised and showered, then I will do that and take more time with it – more like a half hour
  • Moisturizing – face, skin, nails – 10 minutes
  • Journaling/affirmations/gratitude journal – 15 minutes (at least)
  • Eating healthy meals (with preparation) – I don’t know how long, but way longer than grabbing fast food. For three meals, it has to be at least 2 hours each day, including the time to eat and clean up.
  • Getting enough sleep  – 8 hours

Some of the things on the list above are aspirational.

I can’t accurately add up the time for those activities because it is so variable, but it is a large chunk of the 24 hours. And, again, that is as a retired person who only takes 10 minutes to get ready in the morning! Most people take longer. I wear no make-up. I don’t do anything special with my hair. I spend next to no time picking out clothing. All of those things could be part of a person’s self-care regime, requiring more time and attention.

My exercise routine is minimalist – better than nothing, but not the amount of time a truly fit person devotes to working out. For someone like, let’s say Jennifer Aniston, it is a full-time job to look like she does. Not that I would choose her as a role model. I don’t make a living on my looks and never did. Unfortunately, though, we live in a world where we set up unreasonable expectations of what we should look like, but the vast majority of us can’t take that much time to nurture ourselves.

Many people face other types of health challenges that require more daily attention. I’m very lucky. Other than this annoying thing with my voice, and the usual minor aches and pains that come with age, I am healthy. In the past I have had occasion to go for physical therapy (for a frozen shoulder or a tweaked back) and there were stretching exercises prescribed. Those kinds of regimens can be hard to stay faithful to.

So, what is my point? First, that doctors and therapists of all sorts need to be realistic and work with folks to figure out a program that can be followed. Second, we need to be honest with ourselves – what are we willing to do? What do we have time to do? Do we believe in the regime that is being prescribed? Lastly, let’s not expect perfection. There’s nothing good about beating ourselves up over falling short of our goals – that can lead us to spiraling into negativity and being more self-destructive.

I want to be able to sing to my grandchildren – that is my main motivation for working on my voice. That and I don’t want to annoy people with my constant rasp. My throat doesn’t hurt, my voice just sounds bad. In a more general way, I want to be proactive about my chronic congestion to help lessen the number of sinus/ear infections I get and preserve my hearing. I will try to stick to the program, but I will also try to follow my own advice. I beat myself up enough about all kinds of things. I don’t need to add this to the list.

Other aspects of self-care: relaxing, reading a book, drinking coffee and spending time with my kitties-now kitty 😦

“We Are Here”

I have read quite a bit about the Holocaust. Recently I read Eichmann in Jerusalem by Hannah Arendt, which reported on the trial in Israel of the Nazi who was responsible for the transport of Jews to concentration camps. I also read Fugitives of the Forest by Allan Levine which profiled Jewish Partisans who fought and survived in the forests of Poland during World War II. Any reading about the Holocaust is challenging because you can’t help but be overwhelmed by the evil that was perpetrated and these two books are no exception. It is hard to wrap one’s brain around the breadth and depth of cruelty and viciousness.

            This past week offered an opportunity to look at another dimension of the Holocaust, one that reminds me that in the midst of evil, people can express their humanity, they can still be moved to affirm their faith in life by creating beauty. On Thursday evening I attended a concert at Carnegie Hall in New York City that included music, song and poetry created in the ghettos and camps during the Holocaust.

            The evening was conceived of and co-produced by a friend of my brother Mark, Ira Antelis. Ira became aware of a series of songbooks published just after the war ended that memorialized music created in the camps and ghettos. He wanted it to be heard, to bring awareness to its existence. It was originally performed in a Chicago synagogue last April, and they brought it to New York to commemorate International Holocaust Remembrance Day. The evening was appropriately entitled “We Are Here.” Broadway performers, renown cantors and elite musicians contributed their talents. Each piece was introduced by a prominent individual, for example David Gill, German Consul General to the United Nations, another by Cardinal Timothy Dolan, Archbishop of the Diocese of New York. These introductory remarks gave context: who the composer and lyricist were, some information about them was shared and where they were when they wrote the piece.

            I didn’t know what to expect of the music. One might imagine that it would be quite dark, and some of it was. But, most of it wasn’t. The music was beautiful, often hopeful, sometimes even upbeat. The lyrics could be sad, reflecting the reality of the pain and loss they suffered. But, all of the works represented acts of defiance. The Nazis may have wanted to wipe the Jewish people and culture from the face of the earth, but these artists were leaving a legacy. Perhaps it was an expression of their faith, or a need to reclaim their humanity by creating beauty in the face of ugliness.

            One particularly meaningful piece for me was the Partisan Anthem (Zog Nit Keyn Mol), “Never Say You Have Reached the Final Road, We Are Here,” which gave its name to the whole program. When we went through my in-laws’ house several years ago as it was being cleaned out in preparation for sale, I found a notebook with pages of Yiddish writing. On one of our visits with Paula and David, we hoped they could tell us what it was. It looked like it might be poetry, given its structure. They recognized it immediately. The first page were the lyrics to this song. They began to sing it. More than sixty years after they had likely last sung it, they were able to recall it. Paula, whose had lost most of her ability to make conversation because of Alzheimer’s, joined in. At the time, David provided us with a rough English translation.

            These are the lyrics (in English):

Never say you are going on your final road,
Although leadened skies block out blue days,
Our longed-for hour will yet come
Our step will beat out – we are here!

From a land of green palm trees to the white land of snow
We arrive with our pain, with our woe,
Wherever a spurt of our blood fell,
On that spot shall spurt forth our courage and our spirit.

The morning sun will brighten our day
And yesterday will disappear with our foe.
But if the sun delays to rise at dawn,
Then let this song be a password for generations to come.

This song is written with our blood, not with lead,
It is not a song of a free bird flying overhead.
Amid crumbling walls, a people sang this song,
With grenades in their hands.

So, never say the road now ends for you,
Although skies of lead block out days of blue.
Our longed-for hour will yet come –
Our step will beat out – we are here!

Lyrics by: Hirsh Glik  

Music by: Dmitri and Daniel Pokrass

            The performance of the song on Thursday night by a group of talented vocalists was stirring. It was not the only profound moment of the evening. Another song was introduced with the explanation that it originated in a cattle car to Treblinka when a man started singing a known prayer to a new melody. Somehow the melody was passed on and eventually published. Though the composer didn’t survive, the melody did. Cantor Yanky Lemmer sang it so powerfully I got goosebumps.  The prayer, Ani ma’min (Never Shall I Forget), is based on the writing of Maimonides in the 14th Century (in English, it was sung in Hebrew):

I believe with all my heart

In the coming of the Messiah,

And even though he may tarry,

I will wait each and every day

For his arrival.

I believe in the sun

Even when it is not shining.

I believe in love

Even when I do not feel it.

I believe in God

Even when He is silent.

Melody by: Adriel David Fastag

            The evening of music and song was not my only reminder of the strength of the human spirit. Another artifact found when cleaning out the Bakst house was a small spiral notebook. Each page had a separate entry, some in Russian, some in Polish, others in Yiddish. Some of the notes were accompanied by crayon drawings. It wasn’t until I brought it to YIVO a few weeks ago that we learned what it represented. It contained notes to Paula from friends at the displaced persons camp, Ranshofen, in Austria. It was created as a keepsake of the relationships established during the almost three years that Paula was at Ranshofen. I look at that notebook, even without knowing the translation and I see the spirit of teenage girls that I might have grown up with. Paula was 14 when she arrived at the DP camp, after living in the woods for 4 years. After all they had been through, they still could make fanciful, colorful, hopeful drawings. Here are some of the pages from the book:

            In sharing this, I am not minimizing the horror or suffering. It is not to shift attention away from the enormity of the loss. It is essential that we not become numb to the tragedy – or the tragedies that continue to be perpetrated by those who are evil and the many more who are indifferent. But, it is also essential to have hope. These creations, these melodies, lyrics, gestures, and notes are expressions of hope and beauty. They are remarkable.

Note: If you would like to learn more about the concert, please go to http://www.wearehereconcert.com

Using our Voice

As is often the case for me, I was sorting through papers (oh, the endless supply of paper!) and found something I wrote early in 1994.  To give some context, Leah was in first grade, Dan was in pre-k (daycare at the Albany Jewish Community Center) and I was working full-time for the state Department of Taxation and Finance.

January 24, 1994

Leah ready for t-ball in 1994

Leah came home from school saying she felt sad. After talking about it for a bit, Leah explains that she feels left out – her teacher isn’t paying that much attention. She gives a concrete example of an oversight by the teacher. She ends by asking, “Would it be okay if I told Mrs. Brennan that I feel left out?”

Sometimes Leah asks really hard questions. On the one hand, I am pleased that she is willing to consider the possibility of speaking to the teacher herself. I couldn’t imagine having the confidence to do that – fearing rejection or humiliation. On the other hand, I am concerned that Leah not come across as whiny and demanding. It is also a reality that children who are capable will not get the close attention that those who fall behind get.

The other issue is that Mrs. Brennan has been teaching the class for only one week – since the original teacher went on maternity leave. I urge Leah to give her a chance to get settled.

Leah doesn’t heed my advice. Good for her. She spoke to Mrs. Brennan the very next day in fact, telling her she felt sad and left out. She tells me she feels much better and has no complaints for the remainder of the time Mrs. Brennan handles the class.

I later learn from Mrs. Brennan that she had been overcompensating with Leah – consciously not attending to her out of concern that she would be showing favoritism. She said her heart sunk when Leah approached her.

So, Leah’s instincts were right. She spoke for herself and resolved the problem. What a great lesson! I hope she always has that ability to speak up for herself – to get her needs met. What a terrific skill – but there are certainly going to be challenges ahead. How will she fare in adolescence when attitudes towards girls change? She will need to be strong to retain the identity she seems to be carving out for herself now. I hope she has the strength. I will try to support her. So much pressure to conform, though, to not be difficult…She is a treasure – a hope for the future. Keep your fingers crossed.

—————————————————————

I read what I wrote and I have to smile, remembering how precocious Leah was. (When is it you stop being precocious, anyway? Safe to say she wouldn’t be described that way now, almost 30 years later). But, she was always attuned to her feelings and could put words to them, even as a two-year old!

I would take issue with at least one of my observations. I’m not sure that children who fall behind get more attention. As I watched my kids go through school, I think it is more accurate to say that children at either ends of the spectrum, those that are most capable and those that are truly behind get more attention, and the ones in the middle most often get overlooked. But, maybe you can’t make generalizations about any of that.

My fear that things would change as Leah got to adolescence were well founded. Things did change. Perhaps as much because Leah, like most girls, became much more focused on her peer group when she got to middle school. The approval and acceptance of friends became more important than the judgment of teachers. She still wanted to do well in school, but negotiating her social interactions absorbed most of her attention. Those relationships were much more fraught and complicated than her communication with Mrs. Brennan. Her self-confidence definitely took a hit in those middle school years. If only things could have remained so straight-forward!

Things may have gotten more complicated, but like her mother, Leah retains her voice. Like me, in settings where opinions are solicited or being shared, she is not shy. Her father and husband, among others, can attest to her strong-mindedness.

I do think some progress has been made for girls, especially compared to my mom’s and my generation. I believe girls have taken incremental steps toward expecting to be heard and respected in different settings – school and the workplace particularly. We haven’t arrived at equality, obviously, and there is work to be done in improving the lot of both men and women, but I believe things are better for my daughter and granddaughters. I hope they will continue to take steps forward.

Burnout

I have a running joke with the guy who prepares our taxes. When I call to make the appointment he responds, “Now I know tax season is done! I am in the homestretch,” he says with delight in his voice.

The joke is that I am almost always the last of his clients to call, usually with only a few days to spare until the deadline. This year I called on April 5th, a little early for me. Last year he was in shock when I called, and it was still March.

We have been working with the same guy for roughly 30 years, since Gary went into private practice and our taxes became too complicated for me to do myself.

Anyway, the point is not that I am a procrastinator, though I am that. My point is actually the conversation he and I had when we met this time. Over the years we have had many discussions, including an annual update on our respective families. I have always enjoyed our session – as much as one can when the ultimate purpose is to figure out our tax bill.

In all those years, we both understood that we do not share the same political affiliation. He is aware of the organizations I donate to – the usual laundry list of liberal causes, though they are mainstream compared to some of the more leftwing groups out there.  I know he is more fiscally conservative, befitting a CPA.  

Somehow during this visit our conversation strayed farther into the political realm. The Covid relief program came up and he shared his perception that it was ill-conceived, with folks who didn’t need assistance getting it. His message was, “if you saw what I saw, if you knew what I knew, you would agree with me.” I acknowledged that it is entirely possible that the program wasn’t designed appropriately – I know little about it, and I have no personal experience with it. I don’t doubt that our government is capable of mismanaging a program. The difference between our perspectives is the motives we ascribe to it and the conclusions we draw.

I think he sees governmental ineffectiveness and believes it is proof that there is corruption at the root, that inherently it will be flawed, and we shouldn’t support those programs. I see ineffectiveness and I want us to try harder, do better, build oversight mechanisms to ensure the money goes where it is supposed to go.  

What was interesting to me about our interaction this year was that it was more pointed but fortunately it didn’t get unpleasant. We agreed that we have different priorities. As a bottom line, I am more concerned about civil rights (including reproductive choice) than I am about our economy. He is more focused on our nation’s finances and what he perceives as a diminishing work ethic among our younger generations.

Before we got to the point where we concluded that we would agree to disagree, we touched on a wide range of subjects in addition to Covid relief,  such as police, U.S. support of Israel, Hunter Biden, Ivanka and Jared. Don’t you talk about that stuff with your accountant? With each topic, we quickly came to a dead end. We shrugged and kind of laughed. We were not going to come to a meeting of the minds. In between we returned to the task at hand – my (and Gary’s) 2021 tax return. We ended on a reasonable note, appreciating that we could have the conversation since so many could not.

Naturally, as I drove home, I pondered our divide.  Aside from understanding that much of it came down to differences in our respective priorities and foundational beliefs, I had another thought. We are creatures of our environment and experience. Being an accountant for all these years, watching the endless (absurd? irrational? circular? targeted?) changes to the tax code, interacting with a certain segment of the population, would shape one’s perspective. My accountant may not have seen the people for whom the Covid relief program was a lifesaver. This is true in all professions – high school teachers, doctors, police detectives, the list goes on. When you do a job for a long time, you may not even realize that your view has narrowed. You may think you’ve seen it all, but it is still a narrow slice of humanity.

I think about Gary, who is an endocrinologist (he treats many diabetics). He has patients who are non-compliant – maybe they drink too much, eat an unhealthy diet and/or don’t exercise. There is a danger that he could become cynical about people’s ability to manage their disease – I don’t believe he has. I believe he has maintained his compassion, but it would be understandable if that faded. It would not be acceptable, and it wouldn’t be good for his relationship with his patients if he were to prejudge them, but I can imagine it happening.

Or take another issue that all doctors face: insurance and the bureaucracy that has developed around medicine. Having negative experiences with insurance companies, where they look for loopholes to deny coverage, could color one’s perspective. It could lead to giving up more easily before getting the patient the treatment they need. The quality of care can be compromised if one isn’t vigilant.

Both challenges can lead to burnout among practitioners.

I think about my dad who was chair of a social studies department of a New York City public high school. He retired as soon as he was eligible at the age of 56. Not because he was tired of teaching or because of the students – he still enjoyed being in the classroom. It was all the red tape, all the obstacles, and the lack of resources that drove him to end his career. I think it is fair to say, after over 30 years in education, he was burnt out. Today we see educators leaving the field in droves, long before getting their 30 years in.

Every profession is susceptible to it, and if not burnout per se then being so entrenched in the negative that it becomes the lens through which you see the world. I knew it was time to leave school board service when my frustration intolerance got the better of me after nine years. But that was a volunteer position – I could step back without consequence to my family’s well-being. Not everyone has the luxury that I or my father enjoyed. He had a good pension; he could move on.

In some instances that jaded, cynical perspective can be dangerous. I’ve written before about the hazards police officers face, on many levels. Police officers see us at our worst. The consequences of approaching a new interaction with a citizen expecting the worst is problematic. I imagine, after years on the job, police officers may not have the most balanced view of humanity. I’m not blaming them, I think it comes with the job.

The question then is: what can we do about it, if anything? How do we keep our perspective broader than our circumstances allow, whatever profession we practice? How do we guard against the creeping cynicism that may be inherent in any work we do? Self-awareness may be the first step. We need to admit to ourselves that we are susceptible to the bias in the field in which we work, and then we need to pursue professional development or other experiences that keep us fresh. It is not an easy task, but a necessary one.

When I got home and told Gary about my visit with our accountant, he looked at me incredulously. “You had that conversation with the guy who is going to tell us how much tax we owe?” I nodded. I choose to maintain my faith in humanity.

Duality

As has often been the case recently, I got to thinking after attending a talk at the University at Albany. Anthony Ray Hinton, author of The Sun Does Shine, was the featured speaker at the annual MLK Celebration. Mr. Hinton served 30 years on death row in Alabama for a crime he did not commit. Through the efforts of the Equal Justice Initiative, and his own forbearance, he was released from prison in 2015.

Mr. Hinton’s speech was both inspiring and heartbreaking. I find myself noticing that a lot lately – the duality of good and evil in this world. The tragedy of the injustice of Mr. Hinton’s prosecution, the racism and cruelty he endured, is countered by his faith and the steadfast effort of good people. Mr. Hinton told his story through tears. I found it painful to hear, it was uncomfortable – but we need to bear witness to the damage done when our systems fail, when people entrusted to carry out justice fail. I am no psychiatrist and won’t pretend to be one, but I have to guess that Mr. Hinton suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. How could he not? The fact that he isn’t in a constant rage, he shared his humor and compassion, not just his tears, in his speech, is a testament to his strength. To be willing to relive his trauma so that we may learn from it is a gift.

As I sat in the audience, I thought about the courage of individuals who come forward after experiencing something so harrowing, those who are willing to expose their suffering, to live it again, and I am humbled. I don’t know what to do with all the emotion. I want to fix it – I want Mr. Hinton to be able to heal. I want to prevent another person from experiencing the injustice. It feels overwhelming. But, if I don’t come away moved to action, even if it feels inadequate to the task, then Mr. Hinton’s willingness to dredge up his pain will be for naught.

We ask a great deal of survivors of trauma. We ask them to tell their stories so that we might learn. We ask them to not make us too uncomfortable while they tell their truth. We ask them to continue to function in this world, despite the fact that they have seen and experienced the ugliness of mankind. I think of my in-laws giving testimony as part of Spielberg’s Shoah Project. I have written many blog posts about their journey. It took a while for my father-in-law to recover from the process of giving testimony. There was a personal cost to doing it. He wanted the story known, he wanted it documented, but he paid a price in reawakening pain, depression and anxiety that had been pushed down. I believe it was worth it to him and to my mother-in-law, their experiences are now preserved for the ages, they cannot be erased from history even after their time on earth expires.

When we hear the stories of survivors, it often includes a message of hope. People who stood up, who made survival possible. In Mr. Hinton’s case, he had the emotional support of his mother and best friend, as well as Bryan Stevenson of the Equal Justice Initiative (and the staff of that nonprofit). My in-laws were aided by their families, ‘righteous Gentiles,’ and luck. I am thankful for those forces for good, Paula and David would not have survived but for their efforts and their stories would be unbearable if not for those acts of courage and kindness.

I watch the war in Ukraine unfold and I see the same duality. The barbarism unleashed by Putin, countered by the resolve and courage of Zelenskyy and the Ukrainian people. Gary and I attended a local prayer vigil in support of Ukraine. The Archbishop of the Albany Diocese, Edward Scharfenberger, spoke, cautioning us to not give in to despair. He said despair was a tool of the devil. While I don’t believe in God or the devil, those aren’t words or ideas that resonate for me, I do believe humanity has the potential for good and evil. I think he is right to say that if we let despair win out, then we cede ground to the worst among us.

It is daunting and frightening to open one’s eyes to the pain and cruelty abundant in our midst. It is easier and tempting to bury our heads in the sand or focus on our own immediate needs (like worrying about the price of gasoline), but that is shortsighted. That’s how evil wins. I also come back to Mr. Roger’s seemingly simple statement to look to the helpers in times of crisis. I think that offers comfort, but it isn’t enough. I myself need to be a helper in whatever ways I can. I am not José Andrés, the remarkable chef who has made it his mission to respond to humanitarian disasters around the world. But, I can donate to his organization. I can write this blog and maybe move others to take action in whatever form available to you.

We need to bear witness and we need to do what we can to do good in this world. I hope you will not let despair get the better of you and together we will do the work necessary to ensure, to paraphrase the words of Martin Luther King Jr, that though the moral arc of the universe is long, that it bends towards justice.

The Ukrainian National Flower – in solidarity – picture taken in Cooperstown, NY August 2021

‘Learn-how-to-meditate-January’

I think the whole country, the entire U.S. of A., should take up meditation. I had this epiphany the other day after I finished the 20th of a 30-day class – each session is only 10 minutes –  offered through an app called Calm. I realize this is an impossibility on so many levels, but I’d like to make the case.

Much of the divisions in our country are caused by people feeling aggrieved. Some folks believe they are unseen or unheard by our government or by the rich and powerful. Some are bitter because of sour relationships. Others are angry because they think many in this country have been swallowed by a cult causing us to drift (speedily swim?) toward authoritarianism. Whatever the source of the grievance, I think the practice of meditation can help because it requires that you become more neutral, you need to adopt a stance of equanimity to sit quietly for ten minutes. I don’t mean to simplify something that is quite complex. Both the problems that have led so many to feel alienated/angry and the practice of meditation are complicated. But, they are simple, too.

Sitting quietly and breathing slowly and deeply for ten minutes each day is both the easiest thing in the world and the hardest. Quieting your mind, allowing emotions to flow through you but not possess you, takes practice. I am a novice, but I see the benefit of having done it for about a month (and, full disclosure, I missed some days during the month). Some people did a ‘dry January,’ I did a ‘how to meditate January.’

I was motivated to try this because during these last couple of years during the pandemic, I have found myself easily riled. I go from zero to sixty emotionally in seconds. I felt agitated much of the time. I read a headline and feel my stomach churn. I can’t say that my meditation practice has changed all of that, but there is noticeable improvement. I still get anxious at the prospect of taking Mom to the doctor, and I still feel my blood pressure start to rise when I read about Donald Trump’s latest rally, but I feel more in control. If it can do this for me, I can imagine what it would do for all the people out there who are living on the edge.

The practice allows you to acknowledge feelings that you might prefer to push down. Generally, I am pretty self-aware. I think for others who are not so blessed to be in touch with their emotions, it might be uncomfortable at first, but it would be a step in the right direction. When you don’t acknowledge what you are feeling it comes out in unexpected and unpleasant ways.

Another positive is that there are no religious aspects to meditation, unless one wanted there to be. I think it is harmonious with all faith traditions.

We are fixated with solving societal problems from the outside in – we enact new laws, fund programs, do research, require others to take action, and talk issues to death. Many of those steps, other than talking things to death, are admirable, and necessary. But, maybe, we need another approach as well. One that starts from the inside of each individual. Maybe if more people took 10 minutes a day to sit quietly and breathe deeply, there would be less hostility and better mental health. Just an idea.

I plan to extend my practice beyond ‘learn-how-to-meditate’ January.