Am I alone?

This was first published on 4/28/08 on Clotted Cognition. I started it with a long quote from another blog on disability, but I'll go ahead and leave that part out this time. If you had told me back then that I would republish this as a mostly able bodied person I wouldn't have believed you. Life has been good to me. So, on individualism, society, and shared responsibility:

This is an issue I've been wondering a great deal about lately. Why is it people think that because they are able bodied they do not have anything to do with disability or the issues surrounding disability? Are we/you truly that short sighted? I admit that I didn't think about disability all that much before I was forced to by disability, but I never assumed it would never be a part of myself. Honestly, it's unbelievable to me that anyone would think themselves that impervious to the degeneration all biological beings are subject to. Not just degeneration, but the accidental nature of life itself.

People! I have news for you!

You are going to die.

You are going to die quickly or slowly or anywhere in between and on the way there you will have pain. You will get sick, some more than others, and you will curse your mortality. These things are endemic to the nature of biology; there is no get out of humanity free card. You will not be passing stop.

You are going to deal with disability.

You will have to face the limits of your humanity, your biology and your patience when you are forced to deal with disability. You will need help and you will want to remain the choreographer of your own life. You will hate that you cannot do all that you want to do and you will curse your limitations. You will learn that life is not carefree and spontaneity no longer exists. You will learn to parcel out your time in terms of your limitations and the limitations of those around you and you will learn that being cared for or caring for someone else is the most empowering, belittling, aggressive, loving, and embarrassing thing you will ever have to face. You will lose your shame. You will lose your idea of sovereignty. You will lose your idea of yourself. You may not be the disabled person, but you will experience all of these things nevertheless.

How you deal with death, disease and disability is up to you. How you are allowed to deal with life after disability is up to all of us. If you choose not to acknowledge that there is merit in allowing people who cannot do things in the same way as everyone else or those who are unable to care for themselves to have access to health care, public spaces, employment, then you are denying your mortality as fervently as if you believed you had found the philosopher's stone. If you choose to let others wallow in the muck of society rather than acknowledging that we are not to blame for our humanness, then you are choosing a society based on your needs, your wants, your desires above all else. You are not a workable society; individualism does not endorse or include society or inhere itself beyond the limits of what we are. Individuality is. however, necessary for the understanding of self and the understanding that self inheres itself to existence. Individuality forces us to recognize that we are humans, we are other, and we are not the entirety of existence through its nature of separation. In other words, humanity gives us the ability, individualism gives us the context.

If society prevents us from obtaining the necessities of life it is degrading our rights as surely as if it imprisons us without cause; being forcibly held against your will and prevented from the freedom inherent in individualism has the same outcome as being unable to access what is needed to be human. Both things force individualism to subvert itself to the desires of others, therefore denying both our humanity and our right to be other than. If the outcome is the same but the path to that outcome is only slightly divergent, either thing is the equal of the other. Will it matter if you are in jail or if you are unable to leave your home (if you have one) when you are disabled? Will you be equal to all others in society if you are unable to acknowledge your individuality or the individuality of others through the basic assertion of your rights as a part of humanity?

Society cannot function if equality and the rights of individuals are applied sporadically. A society that lacks cohesion is inadequate to the point of exclusion. There is no way a collection of people who refuse to recognize the rights and basic access to what it required for life can progress and call itself a true society; those people exclude themselves from what society fundamentally is by their lack of a commonality of interest. Why else would people form a society if not to share commonality, to share burden and to share necessity? If we do not do these things equally then we do not care for what is outside of ourselves; we do not recognize the necessity of context, of fallibility and of biology. We cannot exist alone. It is beyond the realm of the possible; to deny that shared biological necessity is manifest by denying the care of others is to deny that we are human and to deny that we exist as individuals who possess otherness.

To define ourselves as we Are rather than as we wish we were is the only way to understand our places in society, in life, and in time. Time is the enemy in all things; it is the enemy when those of us who reached disability first are forced to wait for everyone else to catch up before we are recognized as equal, valid human beings. It is the enemy when it robs us of the lives we thought we would have or the people we thought would always be here. You cannot fight time and win. Degradation is no less a part of biology than life is, the two being necessary for the other's existence. If you do not recognize that precarious and solid relationship you are living on the edge of sanity. Without one, there is no other; without death, life ceases to be. Without progress forward, degradation cannot exist. Without the recognition of our limits, we cease to recognize our humanity. In refusing to recognize the intrinsic nature of limitation, of age in time, you are guaranteeing your own quick slide into the intellectual degradation that comes with the inability to accept what Is. If you cannot accept the most basic tenets of life, or accept that they apply to you because you are human, you are doomed to live as if you were fighting against life itself. Without the context of reality and of place we lose our ability to exist in a meaningful way, to leave a legacy. Who are the people on the fringes? those are the people who are forgotten. Who are the people who choose that life? those are the people who cannot accept their contextual obligations to otherness. Those are the people who live as if they are alone, as if they are all that matters.

If you continue to live as if what matters to you now is what matters for you in the future, you will be doomed to a life dreams. You are refusing to recognize change, otherness and the forward movement humanity requires. Your interests will tie you to the future as surely as anything else, but those interests will change; if you are tied to the past, if you are emotionally or intellectually tied to what was once considered important because you did not consider what would be important, what will you do? How will you live if you have chosen to be pulled backward into the future rather than facing it with a confident stride? You will be one of those people we see who are trying to hold on to what they believe they once were; the people who have an idea of what they are based on an idea of what they used to be. Funny thing about ideas: they are never graspable, never holdable, never static. In trying to live up to an idea of what you are or were rather than living as you are you will fail as a human being just as surely as if you had purposely murdered your life. There is no purpose in that sort of failure; in seeking to dream and hope and not do you are seeking to deny the life that is purposefully and wholly your own. You are being held prisoner by an idea based on something that no longer exists, something that was. We pity those people for their sad, sad existences of nothingness. It is time you realize:

You will need health care.

You will need the ADA.

You will need recognition.

You will need kindness.

The fragility of water

 Things feel different lately. We never know if the latest incident is going to be the one that leads to a progression in my diseases, so each one is treated with urgency and care. Normally, I bounce back and am fine, but that’s not happening this time. I mean, I’m OK, I’m just not back to my version of normal. Don’t get me wrong, I think I have years left on this planet, but I also live with the knowledge that things can escalate quickly and seemingly out of the blue. But here’s the thing: I made my peace with the fragility of my life years ago and, while I don’t want to die, I’ve accepted it with peace.  

There’s a lovely scene in the movie Seeking a Friend for the End of the World where one character says to another, “But it isn’t enough time.” The other character responds: “It never would have been.” They were talking about the limited time they had together and, I think, stating the obvious: there is never enough time to be with the people you love. We are all wasting time in one way or another. We choose to stay home and watch TV because we can’t be bothered to go out; we choose to stay in bad marriages because we’re too stubborn or scared to make a change; we choose to stay in jobs that destroy us a little bit every day because the alternatives seem terrifying. I can understand the job scenario far more than the other two because the other two deal with the relationships we have with others; I will always believe that those relationships are the most important part of our lives and our time. So it is almost physically painful to me to see a person stagnate, or watch relationships be destroyed over stupid things like mistakes or misunderstandings. Yet, I’ve seen a fair amount of that lately; it’s sad and it’s wasteful. 

The idea that there exists time to waste is unthinkable. It’s gone before it begins, metaphysically speaking; what could be is nonexistent and cannot exist until you make it exist.  To know that time is rapidly decreasing for you is to inject a sort of hardening of purpose into everything you do. You can do what it is you want to do, the thing you know will bring you joy, or you can wait and hope things work themselves out on their own. Yet, we know that things rarely work themselves out on their own and that doing nothing is itself a kind of doing; it is a willful slipping away. 

Time is like water:  No matter how hard we try to contain it, it will eventually evaporate on us. All we can do is play in it for a brief time and hope we don’t drown before it’s gone.  It’s easier to float when you accept that your buoyancy is temporary and fragile and always, always easier when there’s someone worth staying afloat for. Time is happening, fragility is around us and in us; what are you going to do about the waste in your life?

Spandau Sounds*

I was looking for something I wrote a few years ago on my stolen blog and found this. I thought it was fairly interesting, but then, I would, wouldn't I? This was originally written on 7/25/08.

I had a funny experience yesterday afternoon: I was driving to the pharmacy in an enormous SUV (rental) when a man in a Jeep darted in front of me and almost caused an accident. I instinctively honked at him, which he apparently didn't like. He sort of swerved a little bit toward me as I passed him, then got into the turn lane behind me and turned into the pharmacy parking lot. As I pulled into the handicapped spot at the front of the store, he pulled into a spot down the row. My usual exit the car routine goes something like this: 1. Take off seatbelt, 2. Put purse over head and arm (cross ways over chest), 3. put my arm through my crutch and grip the handle, 4. open the door and either swing my legs out or step out, one leg at a time (depending on strength that day), 5. pull crutch through the car after me. Imagine my doing all of this while being blocked from view by a large car door; you wouldn't see the crutch at all. So, as I was getting out of the car I saw the man from the Jeep walking purposely toward me, with a nasty look on his face. On his way toward me he had to navigate a column that necessitated some deviation from a straight path. If the man went in front of the column, he was coming toward me; if he went behind, he was going toward the store. Just as he was going in front of the column toward me I shut the door of the car and he clearly saw the crutch. He literally did a circle around the column and kept walking, acting as if he had never intended to come near me! It was freaking hilarious. I almost wish he had started yelling at me before I shut the door just so I could have seen his reaction when confronted with the gimp aid. That would have been priceless.

I've noticed this sort of attitude before; this attitude of gentleness toward people who are clearly disabled. What's odd is that I tend to see either that or the exact opposite. It's as if we inspire such strong emotions in people that they are incapable of reacting to us in a moderate way. While I was in the bathroom at Red Lobster the other day two women came in; one went into a stall and the other stood by the sink. They were talking up a storm about their different aches, pains and ailments, complaining away their time in the potty. As I exited the stall the woman by the sink literally stopped talking mid sentence and looked at me like she wanted to hit me. It was such an odd reaction and one I don't understand, still. Was it my age? Was it the crutch? Did she have instant guilt for complaining about minor aches and pains when a young woman with a crutch (i.e. a more unfortunate person) was listening? It's hard to say. I have an Obama sticker on my crutch but her angle in reference to the sticker made it impossible for her to see. It was just so odd.

It's natural for many of us to want to be sweeter to people whom we view as less fortunate than ourselves, just as it is natural for others to want to be mean to people they view as inferior to them. We know that, it isn't particularly revelatory. I simply find it odd that there tend to be only two categories that necessitate action toward people with disabilities: unfortunate or inferior. It's very similar to the kind of thinking that leads to or is engendered by extreme racism. I am not saying that is what is happening with these people; I am saying that the instantaneous nature of the emotion is one that has to come from long and fiercely held generalizations. Where do those generalizations come from?

Philosophy has many subcategories that people tend to specialize in and focus on in their studies and writing. Ethics is one of those categories, as is epistemology. Epistemology is, generally speaking, the search for the meaning of truth, or how we Know. There are several different theories for how truth is established and how we Know, of course; philosophers must always disagree or think up new ways to torture students. Some think truth cannot be established, others think it is established through the necessity of it, while others think it is established through coherence. While I tend to agree with a mishmash of theories (the McQuillan theory of Pragmacorrespondence?), William James's theory of truth is one I think serves us well when discussing the reasons for the broad generalizations people make whenever they are confronted with something new. James's theory is that there is no such thing as absolute, static truth; truth is simply what is true in pragmatic terms at the moment of its use. In other words, truth exists to apply itself to the general, not as a macro idea or fact that applies always, regardless of the particular.

I think James hit on something quite interesting with this idea of pragmatism being the true (!) focus of knowledge. Think of it this way: if we were constantly forced to reevaluate every new thing we see, hear, taste, touch, smell or do we'd never progress beyond a baby's ability to process life. If we had to do that much work constantly, we would never get anything related to the utility of life accomplished! For example: when you go to a party where you don't know anyone, it requires far more work than if you were at a party where you do know everyone. You've already assigned belief and meaning and truth to the people you know and you only need to change those things when something new about that person is established. But when you are in a new situation with new things you are forced to find belief, meaning and truth for each thing. That's a hard process! Luckily, we've already established some larger generalizations that can be applied in general terms to the new things we're experiencing. If you see a person reading a book in the corner at the party and you know that everyone you've ever met who is that bookish is also quite shy, you make the unconscious generalization that the bookish person in the corner is shy. If you're wrong, it's an easy fix and it's something you are not required to discover on your own. People will act as they act, regardless of what we think; it is up to them to show us who they are and up to us to change our generalizations on the fly.

This theory and practice does get a little tricky when we add in things like hate, anger and closed mindedness. If you were raised to believe that all Asians will cheat you when dealing with them financially, you will make the assumption that the Asian man at the pharmacy is taking something from you that he has no right to take. You assumed something from a generalization you believe is based on truth. But that is not a generalization that works. Even if you had experienced an Asian person cheating you, the cheating had nothing to do with the man's race and everything to do with his character. We might say that a person who belongs to the North American Cheater's Club would be someone who will cheat us because they have demonstrated a willingness to do that by their behavior. Behavior is the key in these things; people may look like they behave (clothes, makeup, hygiene), but those things necessitate behavior. When we generalize correctly, we make assumptions about people based on what we know about others like them. What do we know about the Asian cheater? We know that he is a man, he is Asian, and he cheated. The cheater’s gender and race have nothing to do with the act of cheating; the cheating is what we have to understand the person. In other words, do you know more about a person by looking at them or by seeing them act? Clearly, actions are the only indications of a person’s character and the only way we can know who they are.** Accordingly, if your only experience with people in wheelchairs has been that they are cranky and have huge chips on their shoulders, you will generalize that behavior for all wheelers because it is backed up by the assumption that people in chairs might have a harder life than people who are able to ambulate without assistance. There are good reasons behind these generalizations and these particular assumptions translate to all the knowledge you require until you have a new experience with a wheeler that changes your necessary knowledge. That is the nature of this fluid idea of truth; we change our understanding and beliefs when it is pragmatically necessary.*** 

This is all very idealistic, but it does work well for us in practical terms. The challenge will always be, though, how to know when a change in generalization is necessary and which generalizations are nothing more than prejudices. You will hear people say things like, "I Jewed them down to a lower price," about bargaining for a better deal. That is the phrasing for an improper generalization. While there may be some Jews who are parsimonious, ascribing that characteristic to such a large group of people is not something that will ever work on pragmatic grounds. If you make that large of a generalization you are bound to be in a constant state of confusion or anxiety because you are constantly having to either refuse to acknowledge that your idea is wrong (which requires more work than accepting that your idea is faulty and moving on) or you will have to constantly be reevaluating the idea.**** If the constant reevaluation is happening, you've missed the pragmatic utility of generalizations entirely, While it seems like the Jewish generalization and the disability generalization are the same, they are quite different. The cranky behavior of the wheeler has two things backing up the generalization: the experience you've had with a cranky wheeler and the knowledge you have that ambulation usually makes life easier. The Jewish assumption has only one thing behind it and that is your experience with one person without any kind of reason behind the experience itself. While the wheeler may not be cranky because he or she is in a chair (and really, being in a chair can be a good thing, too), the generalization does have some soundness to it in relation to how we understand the nature of our existence. What is there about the Jewish person and parsimony that makes sense? Is there any utility in the action itself? No, of course not. There isn't a practical reason for the assumption that all Jews are parsimonious, though there might be more of a practical reason behind the assumption that all wheelers are cranky. The more practical nature of the wheeler assumption does not, however, absolve us of guilt if we keep the generalization once we know it is not valid. That is why prejudice, or a belief we want to be true no matter if it is true or not, are so detrimental to our epistemological understanding. With every generalization comes the necessity of the acknowledgment of our fallibility as humans. Quite simply, we can always be wrong in everything we think we know. 

Let me give you one more example: If you live in the United States and you drive a car, and you live in a state that allows people to pump their own gas, chances are good that you've pumped gas into a car on more than one occasion. If you're driving around in an unfamiliar area of town and you notice you need gas, the process for getting the gas will be known to you already and would not necessitate new knowledge on your part. Even if you find that the gas station you chose has a slightly different process for getting gas, your generalizations about pumping gas are ultimately still true; you've simply added a new element to what you already understood. If, however, we change the way we fuel our cars you will have to learn a new way of doing it and the old generalizations must be discarded; they will no longer be pragmatically true. 

What does this wordy discussion of truth have to do with the reactions people have to the disabled? Simple: People react the way they do because the experiences they've had and the truth of those particulars fuel their generalizations about the disabled. It's harder to attach blame when that is the case because we're not talking about something like race or even culture; we're talking about a very specific way of life that is particularly different for every disabled person, but generally the same for all disabled people. The generality is the limitation we have that able bodied people do not. Yet, everyone has limitations; that is the thing, the knowledge of limitations, that allows for the somewhat appropriate generalization about people who are more limited than you. If I were to think about it (not that I do that sort of thing) I would probably find that I have made some assumptions about what it is like to live life in a wheelchair and about the people who do that. My generalizations might be closer to particular truth than an able bodied person's generalizations, but they are no less fluid. The amount of change needed does not alter the necessity of the fluidity of the generalization or the generalization itself; all it does is give me a head start on truth.

Another reason able bodied people react to us in strong ways much of the time is partially due to the fact that we are a minority of people whose differences are imposed on others. Five able bodied people standing in a group discussing dogs are just standing there discussing dogs. If there is one black person in the group the situation does not change; the race of of the participants is irrelevant to the negotiation of the conversation. If, on the other hand, one of those people is disabled the negotiation does change. If they are deaf, for example, they either need to face the person speaking to read their lips, or someone needs to translate with ASL, or the person speaking must use both ASL and spoken language. The difference doesn't make the disabled person inferior to the others, nor does it make the situation harder or less valuable. The difference is only the imposed limits on others in the situation, not just the person with the disability. Again, that isn't a bad thing, it's just a necessity. Unfortunately, some able bodied people do attach value to these things and assume that a person who can't do the things they do in the same way is lacking in something. That is not an appropriate generalization because it forces the particular to be general. While the deaf person in the dog discussion can't hear as everyone else can, they can still have as much participation in the discussion as everyone else; it is simply a difference in the way it is communicated. It is the same with walking versus wheeling; the movement necessary to get to a different spot is accomplished in different ways but it is accomplished. Any generalization of lesser value is one that has nothing to do with the actuality and everything to do with a forced version of reality. It simply does not correspond to truth.

We need to be thoughtful and aware of our generalizations for them to work for us instead of against us; I do realize this is easier said than done. Generalizations can turn into steadfast beliefs if we are lazy or if we think we benefit from a truth that is not supported by correspondence. When you allow for belief to correspond to truth, it must actually correspond to truth; if we allow for such a thing, we also must acknowledge that the truth we think we know is still understood in human (fallible) terms. Even if you think you Know, doubt will always creep in. We are, after all, human. Generally speaking.


*I admit, sometimes the obscurity of the titles I choose cracks my ass up!

**Appearances are relevant to generalizations only when they involve action.

***Please do not think that this theory legitimizes every generalization. There must be practical necessity involved and it must be based on actuality. If someone is rude to you and you assume it's because they have a little green alien residing in their bottom, you are making an assumption that is utterly divorced from necessity or actuality. If you were to then make the generalization that all rude people have little green aliens in their bottoms you are basing the generalization on something that cannot be true. Generalizations must be knowledge and reality based to constitute truth.

****I recently read Schindler's List, by Thomas Keneally. I can't remember who it was that said it, but one of the high Nazi party members (Goering, maybe?) made a speech in which he admitted that "Aryans" probably knew one Jew who was a "good" Jew. He went on to tell them that they must make no exceptions and be merciless with all Jews because they were all the same at bottom. I would imagine the willingness to admit that there might be some goodness in this thing you have decided is all bad would make your steadfast bias painful. The futility of a generalization that admits flaws is the thing that ultimately dooms tyranny.

I wrote this when Christian Bale had his meltdown in 2009. Sorry for the broken links. Just a reminder:

I can't believe I'm going to do this, but, well... I am. I'm going to give a teensy bit of perspective to Christian Bale's on set meltdown. I am not a huge fan of actors (other than my cousin who is the bee's knees), but I have to say that I think people are not understanding a few things with that rant. Seriously, I can't believe I'm going to defend an actor.* Anyway...

Anyone walking on set when a scene is being filmed is an amateur. I don't care how long you've been in the business, you do.not.do.that. Ever. Bale mentions that this guy did it twice and the DP certainly was trying to excuse his actions with a certain amount of insolence when Bale went off on him. Now, let me state without any equivocation: there is NO excuse for the way Bale treated that DP. He should not have berated him in front of others and he should not have used such hateful language. However, he was right in his objection to the DP's actions. A DP is rather high up in responsibility and respect on the set, so the fact that someone with that much supposed influence and experience did such a thing is really terrible. I could be wrong, but it indicates an arrogance on the DP's part; he was probably thinking that because he is the big shot DP, he can do whatever he wants. He's the shooter! he has clout! It could be true that he needed a stern talking to and it is UNBELIEVABLE that the director didn't keep this guy in check.

Another thing to keep in mind is that Bale wasn't just going off on the guy while everyone stood around waiting for him to finish. This tirade was compounded by the fact that once filming stops, things need to be reset, perhaps wardrobe or make up/hair needs to come in and tweak here or there. He mentioned needing someone to come back and put something back on him, twice. So, the standing around and waiting would be happening, but not because of Bale's meltdown. I think that compounds the frustration because you can't just go somewhere else, you're all stuck in a confined space waiting for the loader to reload or lights to be fixed, or the dolly to be taken back, or set dressing to be replaced, or any number of things.

This has to be hard on Bale to have this spread around and lampooned. His mother has used this opportunity to garner some attention and sympathy for her plight with Bale; what kind of a mother does that? The first AD has come out in defense of Bale, explaining that it was the most emotional scene in the film. Again, I don't condone his actions, but you can understand how someone who is having to tap into deep reserves of emotion and is suddenly forced to leap out of it by a jarring experience would have an emotional reaction. We've all done it. Actually, I am rather ashamed of the one time I went off on someone on set and I wish I could apologize to him. He took it well and the problem never occurred again, but I should not have done it. Why did I do it? I had been working 20 hour days, 6 days a week, I had a PM from HELL who made everyone's life miserable and it was a bonehead mistake that was going to force me to lose what precious sleep I was getting. None of that excuses my behavior, but it certainly puts it into perspective. That's all I am trying to do with Bale's meltdown: give it a little bit of perspective.

And now, I go into battle with a clear conscience. I battle the vagaries of fate and dastardly deeds. I battle ivy.

*It's just a crew/actor thing and it doesn't apply to all actors; just the ones who are jerks.

Feeling nostalgic today so I grabbed this from Clotted Cognition. I wrote this in December of 2008.

Once again, a semester is ending. As usual, I am sad to see my students leave my classes and will miss each of them so much. Also as usual, this group of students has been remarkable. I've learned a great deal from them and will never stop caring for them.

My students this semester were equally as diverse as any other semester; Richland has made it part of its mission to create a diverse student body. The diversity I am concerned with, though, is diversity of purpose, experience and thinking. The DNA strand of their diversity was woven together randomly but efficiently, beautifully and sensibly. I am always amazed at how well people of different backgrounds can come together in a class and trust each other enough to talk about their tragedies, their joys, and their hopes. But they do, every semester. Every semester my faith in humanity and in the sublime connections we share is renewed. Believe me when I say, they represent all that we can be if we decide to trust and to hope. I wish everyone could experience these things with me, but you can't, so I hope you believe me.

This semester I had my students write journals as an informal way of putting thoughts on paper to sort of get the juices flowing. I've found that my writing and thinking has improved as I've written more (dur) and I think the same was true for my students. It was also a rare glimpse into their lives that goes further than I would normally go. I couldn't even count the number of times I had tears running down my face as I was reading those journals. Not all tears are from sadness, of course; many times I was so happy to read that they had experienced something wonderful and had trusted me enough to tell me about it. Many times I wanted to go back into their pasts and beat the crap out of the people who hurt them. How could anyone do such a thing to those little pieces of wonderful?

Two of my students are now dating; that makes me happier than I can express.  Many of my students are in love and feeling the elation that comes from knowing you have someone who loves you and you alone. A few of them are in deep despair; I desperately want to help them but I don't know how. They know how much they mean to me and they know that I am always available to them, so perhaps that is enough. One young man has been to Iraq and knows the horror of what it means to fight a war; he is profoundly kind and possesses remarkable circumspection. One student started out not liking the class very much and is now thinking of majoring in philosophy and going on for his PhD to teach. He is absolutely capable of that and would make an excellent teacher. Another student told me he took my class on a whim, not even knowing what philosophy was; he is also going to major in philosophy, now. One student rescued a woman from an abusive relationship by putting himself in grave danger. One student told the class about an addiction she had been through, something so brave, so giving. This young woman gave of her experience to the rest of the class in an attempt to help others understand the nature of addiction. She didn't have to do that, but she did it because she is a strong, amazing young woman. There are so many instances of tremendous experiences and courage that I could relate, but I would be here all day. The thing I find so remarkable about these students is how many of them expressed surprise at having made friends with other classmates. I am more than pleased that they've chosen to open their lives to each other and to become friends.

It's easy to go on and on about them and to get repetitive with my praise, but I'll leave it a bit shorter this semester. All that really needs to be expressed is this thought: if we trust the younger generations to carry us into the future, we'll be in excellent shape. They have less bias than we do, they are more open to others than we are, and they are more capable of understanding what it means to live in a society of rich variety. They are more amazing than you can possibly understand by just reading this short post, but try anyway. Live this through me: know that there is sublime promise out there and they are ready and willing to represent all that is best, all that we are capable of being that is good and courageous. They are our conscience and they are our best hope realized in action. They are the ease of laughter and the stretch toward the sky. They are the best part of us. We are lucky.

Molly's story

For those of you who didn't follow Molly's story on Facebook, here it is:

I found Molly in Southeast Dallas, eating garbage by the side of the road. She had sores all over her body, very little fur, and was emaciated.

The crazy thing is, I took her straight to the vet and they scanned her for a microchip, as a matter of course. We never thought she'd have one, but she did. It was an SPCA chip, so they called them and got the number of the woman who supposedly owned this dog. They called her and told her they had her dog. She said something like, "My dog? My dog is sitting right here!" When they explained which dog this was she said, "Oh, that dog ran off a year ago. I have another dog now, I don't want that one back." I wish we could press charges against her.

This was what she looked like that day:

As you can see, she was in bad shape. She was also heart worm positive. We decided to wait to treat her for heart worms so that we could get her healthy and raise the money for the very expensive treatment.

Just a few months later, this is how far Molly had come:

Within a month, her hair was grown back, the sores were gone and she was starting to get barrel chested. And she demonstrated this odd twisty ear thing that endears her to everyone. She made herself at home with our 3 other dogs and our 5 cats and soon demonstrated her extreme intelligence. Whenever she had to go to the vet for a stay they had to put a lock on her cage because she could break out of all of them.

What's amazing to me is that this very abused dog allowed me to pick her up the first time I saw her and let me put her in my car. She loved us instantly and asks nothing in return. Well, that's not entirely true: she does require cuddles when there's thunder. She has figured out how to lie perfectly flat between my husband and I when there are storms and bury herself in that space until she feels safe. And safe she is.

Tomorrow, our Sweet Molly Malone is going to the dog park for the first time. She is heart worm free and will be able to play in a large space for the first time in her troubled life. We can't wait! If I can figure out how to do a video, I will.

Thank you to everyone who donated to Molly's cause and spread the word and just loved her for her. She is a testament to your goodness.

I did these awhile ago

Love, Poop, and Forgetting

A Sad Tale of Disgrace and Embarrassment on Lovers Lane

Sweet Molly Malone* welcomes you to this exploration of the worst back yard in Dallas. She looks at you skeptically because she is not sure she should allow anyone to see this disgrace in her yard. Seriously, she’s embarrassed, which means a lot coming from a dog who has no problem sniffing other dog’s behinds.

*Our dogs do not normally look this bedraggled. We rescued Molly from the streets in south Dallas just before this was taken. She was starved, almost totally lacking in hair, and had sores all over her body. Plus, she’s heart worm positive. Poor boo boo! She’s doing great, now, though!

We start with a shot of some bamboo the previous owner planted. My dear husband took MY clippers to it but gave up half way through. I left it that way because it at least shields part of our yard from our neighbors who are nice people. They don’t deserve to have to look upon our disgrace. But you just wait until you see my husband’s other project. It’s, um, special. In a bad way.

Here we get into the biggest problem in our poor yard. We had grass back here but it died under the pecan tree. I spent the better part of two months covering the ground with newspapers and mulch to try and get back to a place where we could plan for something new. That was not the smartest course of action when you have 4 dogs. Do you like all of the stuff lying around? It gives the yard depth! It draws the eye away from the mulch! No? Dang it!

Speaking of stuff lying around: What disaster of a yard would be complete without a pink flamingo? Meet Pinky Tuscadero. She’s embarrassed to be there. So is the garden monkey behind her. They’re trying to blend in, like clowns at a phobia convention. Poor dears!

Do you like the mower? It’s nice to have one, isn’t it? What? I don’t have grass? LALALALA! I can’t hear you! The gravel was not my fault. Someone tried to make a path without actually digging it out, lining it or putting borders on it. I fall on that gravel all.the.time. To be fair, I’m not the most graceful person.  I have a dream of installing a French drain around our patio and putting the gravel on top of it. If it weren’t for that pesky sewer line! Maybe I can dig around it. What’s that you say? Broken sewer lines are not happy occurrences? Oh, you silly bunny!

This is where I store all of the plastic pots I have that I swear I will use for more seed starting someday. Oh, and that’s a compost pile on the right. Do you see the black bins on the left? That was my husband’s idea for a dog poop removal system. It didn’t work. Let’s just say that a black bin buried in the ground full of dog poop in Dallas in the summer is… well… let’s not speak of it. (The dog poop has been evacuated. Oh! Hee! Hoo! Haa! I crack myself up!)

So, this had the makings of a false stream. We had these completely insane neighbors who went through a very public divorce a couple of years ago. And when I say public, I mean that the wife would come outside, leave her empty home, to scream at her husband on the phone. Good times. So, she had stolen these rocks from an apartment building they were tearing down up the street. When she moved, she put them in our front yard. For all her faults, she was very sweet. I decided to try and do a false stream, as I’d seen on HGTV. Oh yes, I am THAT person… the one who watches a half hour show and then thinks she can do whatever it was they did on the show? That’s me. I recently told my husband that I could build a deck. He laughed. So, the “stream” was my attempt to make a decorative something or other back there for all of my succulents. It didn’t work. For one thing, the dogs decided that the stream was the perfect place to go potty. Have you ever heard the phrase, “a river of you know what”? Yeah…

This area is fenced off because I planted a vegetable garden back here. It didn’t work out so well because we have so many critters in our neighborhood and they ate everything. But I did spread some lovely homemade compost so it’s very fertile back here. That means there are lots and lots of weeds growing happily! Yay for me! I do still have a peach tree and a fig tree growing. Maybe some herbs. How would you know? It’s a tangled mess! On the bright side, I do have a plot at the Lake Highlands Community Garden, now. Here’s what my plot looked like before the record breaking heat:

This is another shot at that back space. My rain barrel has fallen over, as has the metal grating I was going to use to grow loofahs to give as Christmas presents. That happened. Oh, no, wait, it didn’t. Oh, and there are a bunch of vertical garden containers I bought from Smith Hawken when they were going out of business. I started painting them white to blend in with the house then gave up. I think I might have run out of spray paint and forgotten about it. That could be the title of this little story: Spray Paint and Forgetting. Wait, that makes me sound like a huffer. Never mind.

I moved Pinky Tuscadero and planted this weeping red plum that I bought at North Haven during the breast cancer event. This is especially shameful since I am a Dallas Citizen Forester and am even on the Executive Committee! I might deny this one, should anyone ask.

OK, are you ready for the piece de resistance? It’s coming! You’re almost there! You might want to take some deep breaths before you turn the page. It’s just that bad.

You might be wondering what this is. I couldn’t blame you for wondering that. It’s a grill. No, really, it’s a grill. My husband decided to use all of these pavers we had left over from our front yard overhaul (and that truly is lovely when it isn’t 107 for a gajillion days in a row), so he decided to build this grill. Right next to the bamboo. Hang on, I need to breathe into a paper bag for a moment…. OK, all better. So, the grill worked OK, despite its appearance, but then my husband abandoned it. Rats live in it now. Yes, rats. My husband thinks he is going to get it back up and running. I think that’s going to be a lonely pursuit. Mmmm, rat!

Finally, Tam Tam hopes you’ve enjoyed your sojourn through our disgrace. He is in his outdoor kitty run that attaches to our house through a pipe. Did I mention the 5 cats? One of them is even famous, but that’s a story for another time. He has way too many celebrity demands as it is.


We apologize for subjecting you to this horror and hope you decide we are the worst. I think we’re the worst in the best sort of way.

With much love, poop and forgetting,

Liesl, Jon, Buffalo, Beowulf, Potter, Molly, Tam Tam, Pearl, Dixon, Harvey, and Ozymandias

I Kant Understand It! reclaiming Clotted Cognition

This was originally posted on Clotted Cognition on 10/22/07:

"So act as to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, never as a means only."  Immanuel Kant, Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysics of Morals

As I was preparing for my second class today and rereading Kant (my homey), it struck me that we place more value on objects, the things that can never be ends in themselves, than we do on human beings, now. As I mentioned in my post about the value of life versus the value of money, objects can only have the value we assign to them in our rational minds; life, however, has intrinsic value, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not.

Why is that true? Kant would have us believe that it has everything to do with reason, so life really only refers to human life. Is it true that because we can reason and we have a priori knowledge that we have intrinsic value without anything a posteriori involved? (objects value and perhaps existence being wholly a posteriori) Why does reason make us an end in ourselves?

We talk about people being "reasonable" and thinking with logic all the time. I tend to think that if a person is blessed with the capacity to reason and they don't use that capacity then they are acting in a way that does not just themselves, but humanity a grave disservice. If we believe in the categorical imperative (Act only on that maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a universal law), then we must accept that what we do is what we would have all people do. Is it true that we should allow our "kingdom of ends" to be populated with people who refuse to reason? This cannot be so.

If we have a duty to mankind (as we must if the categorical imperative is to be believed) and our duty is bound to our will, as Kant would have us believe, then we must will that we reason and that we employ our natural gift of logic in every way. We are dual beings with an emotional side to our nature, to be sure, but if we have this a priori knowledge, or foundation, then acting out of reason is our greatest duty. We might react to things emotionally, but it should only be our most shallow response and not our permanent response.

This is where I am puzzled: why is it we substitute the shallowness of emotion for reason as our final decision? We see it over and over, in politics, in friendship, in family, in commerce, and I am wondering why people think that will serve them in any beneficial way. Sure, there are some situations that call for emotion and lots of it; but to allow that to rule our lives to an extent that we betray reason? Why would we do such a thing?

I think people are too used to taking the easy way out. "If it feels good, do it." That's far easier than subjecting all that you do to a universal principle of morality. But when we do this we are denying all that we are as human beings. And when we value an object (e.g. money) over life we betray the gift of reason. An object cannot act and cannot, therefore, have responsibility in the human community. Therefore, its value can only be the value we place on it. What a shallow life it must be to do these things.

And now I must truly leave for class! Don't you wish you could come? :P

Candied scurvy prevention

I'm riffin' on a recipe I tried for my friend Scarlett's boxing day party. I found the original recipe on the website for The Splendid Table. If you're not listening to that show, you're missing out. The recipe is for Limones Rellenos de Coco, or coconut stuffed limes. I found the recipe lacking because limes are very tough and, even with the boiling process, hard to chew. I decided to change the recipe while keeping some of the basic ingredients. Here is what I came up with, and I apologize for the weird spacing; I have never been able to get blogger to work for me:

Start out by slicing several lemons into stripes.

While you are slicing the lemons, have a pot of water on to boil. Once the water is boiling, add the lemons.

Boil the lemons until they are tender. Maybe 15 minutes? It's hard to say; my brain doesn't really process time and I am not smart enough to time these things.

After the lemons are tender, add a couple of cups of sugar.

Allow the water, sugar and lemons to boil for quite awhile, until the lemons start to turn translucent. Remove them from the pot and pour the sugar water into your compost. You do have a compost pile or tumbler, right?

Now it is time to work on the coconut. first, add 2 cups or so coconut to the pot.

Next, add about a cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of lemon juice from the lemons you peeled.

Now, stir it all together and cook it until the liquid has reduced quite a bit. Don't forget to monitor it, though, or it will burn. Not that I did that.

I didn't take a picture of the next few steps because I was tired from having to go back to the store at 10:00 to get more damned coconut. Anyway, let the coconut cool until it is cool enough to handle. While the coconut is cooling, slice the lemons into smaller strips, lengthwise. Once the coconut has cooled, roll it into balls, wrapping a piece of lemon rind around the ball.

That's it! I think it would be interesting to make the rinds even smaller, perhaps string-like and tie them around the coconut in interesting patterns. I also think that something else needs to be added to the coconut to make it less sticky. Any ideas? Another idea I had is to cut the sugar from the coconut and do sugar strings encircling the coconut tied with candied rind. I can picture it but I don't think I've explained it well enough. That might also be a two-person job.

Let me know what you think if you try my ripped up version of this recipe.

Travis Street Circle

Since someone bought my old blog address and won't relinquish it, I'm going to publish some of my old blog posts here. This is one I am particularly  proud of and one that won a nice award.

When my mother moved back to Dallas in 1989 she bought this town home. It's a gorgeous place, one that almost takes your breath away when you walk in. The street was one that had been taken over by architecturally designed town homes that were mostly higher end and populated by people without children. In general, the people in those town homes were older, retired, or better off young professionals. It was close-ish to the predominantly gay area in Dallas, so there were several gay couples as well. The street was named Travis Street and it was also the street on which my first home stood, 40 years ago last month.
We used to see one of those gay couples out walking every day. Well, one would walk and push the other in a wheelchair. Their love and devotion to each other was clear and I remember thinking that I hoped I would find that sort of devotion someday, too. Unless you've experienced what it's like to take care of a once healthy partner, I don't think the sacrifice is truly imaginable. This couple continued to take their walks, to slowly make their way down the street to get a glimpse of the life outside, traveling the street as any couple would who had been together for a long time.
And then, the man in the wheelchair died. This was sad enough and devastating, I am sure, for his partner. But the sadness was not to end to there, nor was the devastation going to be small. Instead of being allowed to grieve in his own home, surrounded by his own memories of times had in loving company, the family of the man who died, the man who owned the home and its contents in legal name only, unceremoniously kicked the grieved partner out onto the street. How could they do such a thing? Easy: with all legal recourse. They didn't care that the man they were throwing out onto the street has cared for their relative when they were nowhere to be seen; he had assuredly cleaned up after the inevitable failures of the man's body and had still found a way to push him down the street every single day. They didn't care that the man they were throwing out had loved their relative as they clearly never had, nor did they care that this man was a human being. No, what mattered most to them was that they had legal right to their relative's property and they were finally allowed to force their sanctimonious judgment onto the man who had deeply loved someone they were a part of through biology. It was more than sad, it was heart wrenching.
I was 20 when my mom moved into our Travis Street town home, and so very glad to be back in Dallas. I had so much family here, you see. Not "blood" family, but adopted family. These were people I had known my whole life and had loved deeply for as long as I could remember. Two of those people were a couple that had come to define the truth of lasting commitment and love to me; coincidentally, they had lived on Travis Street when I was a baby and had also moved back to Travis Street when I was in my teens. These two people had helped raise me when my mother had no idea what to do with a teensy baby and they had loved me as their own when I was a lonely kid without brothers and sisters. They had always taken an interest in me and my life and there was never a harsh word from either of them in my direction or anyone else's. When I married, Uncle Jack gave me a piece of his mother's chrystal since they did not have any children of their own. It meant more to me than any other gift we received and I am afraid I was not able to adequately put that feeling into words when I saw Uncle Jack at my wedding.

That was the last time I saw him. We went back to Santa Fe then moved to Montana, where I learned that Uncle Jack had died. It was as if someone had punched me in the gut and then kicked me repeatedly when I heard the news. Unfortunately, I was not the only person left to mourn for Uncle Jack, far from it. Aside from the multitude of friends they had made and loved through the years, there was the person who meant the most to him and the other half of the couple who had taught me what it means to stay together because there is more love in the world united than there is apart. This partner of Uncle Jack's was my darling, wonderful, Uncle Travis.

I still think of them as "Uncles" because they were closer to me than any of my blood relatives. I'm far too old to call Travis or Jack "uncle," but it still comes to my mind first when I think of either of them. I am ashamed to say that I don't know how Travis has been outside of the odd cursory email, though I think about him often. I owe them both a huge debt of gratitude for being such a large part of my life, especially the formative years of my childhood. I don't know if I would have turned out to be as accepting and compassionate if it had not been for Jack and Travis. I certainly wouldn't have had an intimate portrait of true commitment since my parents and the parents of just about everyone I knew divorced when we were kids. Not Jack and Travis, though; they stayed together through it all.

The ironic part of the commitment shared by Jack and Travis is the fact that they were never allowed to legally marry. They were never recognized as loving, devoted partners by the country in which they lived, having to rely on the grace of their friends to understand the deeper meaning of the love they shared. They didn't need a legal ceremony or recognition to share that love, but they should not have been forced to do without it by people who did not have a stake in their lives. It is deeply shameful to think that we live in a country where something as sublime and rare as lasting love is treated with such contempt. Love is not the weapon; love is the only salve.

Going back to Travis street, there was another gay couple who lived on that street whom we knew and still know. I won't name them as I do not know if they would want me to, but they are still together, still in love, and still living on Travis street. They are another testament to the power of love over the power of rejection and hatred from people who clearly do not know better. I'd like to think that the people who would condemn any of these men (and women) I've known would do so simply because they do not know better. I'd like to think that if they had the opportunity to know a Jack or a Travis or any of the others from my life they would be better for it and their lives would simply be more filled with love and happiness.

I have hope for our future as an accepting society of autonomous individuals. I have hope because I've seen what we can do when we need to and when we want to. It is for Uncle Jack that I will never stop fighting for the rights of all people. It is for Uncle Travis that I will never stop proclaiming that civil liberties are not liberties if they only apply to some people. It is for every gay couple who has been harassed and told their love was not true because it was not "traditional" that I will continue to hold onto the hope that we are good people; we are people who will learn. We will learn because we know what it is to have to hope and we know what it is to see our hopes turn into actuality. I have this hope because I've known Jack and Travis. I call the hope they gave me love.