Big believer in freedom of speech, here. The first time I went to London, I made sure to visit Hyde Park Corner, that famous home of the right to free speech. (For those of you culturally deprived sorts in the audience, it is an unassuming part of one of the parks in London where anyone can get up and propound anything without hindrance.) Kind of a disappointment, actually. The few there who did express themselves were disorganized, rambling and obviously repeating the same old same old over and over and over. This was made even more apparent by those who were regular hecklers, so familiar with the various screeds that they could beat the speakers to the punchline of their meager jokes.
But then, free speech was never meant to be limited to the articulate, much less the coherent. And in a day when public discourse seems limited to an exchange of insults like two children fighting in a playground, free speech has become like most things that are free; worth every penny.
I refer not just to those who disagree with my point of view (you worthless rapscallions you), but to those who seem to have lost the ability to disagree without being disagreeable. We have made public debate into a major contest where one side must not only seem more sensible but must obliterate any other point of view. Even worse, when one side loses, that means doubling down on the invective and calumny of the other side. After a sports game, the opposing teams shake hands in a show of respect for one another. After an election, the opposing parties continue to sling mud and act as if their side won.Like two children separated after a fight, threats and insults continue to fly futilely.
Difference does not threaten me, nor should it you. You have the right to say anything, even nasty things about me, no matter how mistaken or misguided you may be. As Voltaire never actually said, I may disagree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Whose child is this?
Yes, I'm a parent. And one of the worst things that could happen to any parent would be losing a child.
That is why so many become so frantic when there is the potentiality of some authority stepping in and taking custody of a child. Whether it be the Department of Children and Families (or whatever variation there is to be found in your state) or a divorce court or someone who has determined that you aren't taking care of your kids, the feeling is the same: what can I do to get my child back?
Now it is an open secret that the good people at whatever state agency are often overworked, understaffed and even underqualified to handle the many situations that show up at their doorstep.
'Nother words, they don't always get it right (That's an understatement, that is!) But they do try to preserve the family unit, to keep siblings together, to set up the foster care arrangement with an actual family member, to give the parents every avenue possible to recover custody with all due speed.
Trouble is, those kids might end up back in the same old mess, mark II. The abusive, neglectful, unhealthy environment that lead to the loss of custody to begin with sneaks back in past all those good intentions, only now mom and/or dad have learned how to cover up.
Yes, there are cases where the authorities come charging in like a bull elephant on Black Friday, or where it takes so much time to sort things out that the child is well grown before the parents get custody back. But this is the delicate balancing act, between the good of the child and the rights of the parent. Of course, we all would put more emphasis on the welfare of the child, but that doesn't take into consideration the impact from losing a parent at any age. (Won't go into all the horror stories of fostercare.) And if we focus on the parental rights, what do we do when that parent is putting the child in harm's way?
No matter how carefully we try to do this, there is going to be some hurt, some loss, some guilt. There will be parents who try to avoid such situations by running away. There will be children who are scarred just by the process. And there are no easy answers.
That is why so many become so frantic when there is the potentiality of some authority stepping in and taking custody of a child. Whether it be the Department of Children and Families (or whatever variation there is to be found in your state) or a divorce court or someone who has determined that you aren't taking care of your kids, the feeling is the same: what can I do to get my child back?
Now it is an open secret that the good people at whatever state agency are often overworked, understaffed and even underqualified to handle the many situations that show up at their doorstep.
'Nother words, they don't always get it right (That's an understatement, that is!) But they do try to preserve the family unit, to keep siblings together, to set up the foster care arrangement with an actual family member, to give the parents every avenue possible to recover custody with all due speed.
Trouble is, those kids might end up back in the same old mess, mark II. The abusive, neglectful, unhealthy environment that lead to the loss of custody to begin with sneaks back in past all those good intentions, only now mom and/or dad have learned how to cover up.
Yes, there are cases where the authorities come charging in like a bull elephant on Black Friday, or where it takes so much time to sort things out that the child is well grown before the parents get custody back. But this is the delicate balancing act, between the good of the child and the rights of the parent. Of course, we all would put more emphasis on the welfare of the child, but that doesn't take into consideration the impact from losing a parent at any age. (Won't go into all the horror stories of fostercare.) And if we focus on the parental rights, what do we do when that parent is putting the child in harm's way?
No matter how carefully we try to do this, there is going to be some hurt, some loss, some guilt. There will be parents who try to avoid such situations by running away. There will be children who are scarred just by the process. And there are no easy answers.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Fame V. Humility
It is an American ideal to be famous. Not even for this or that accomplishment, but at times just famous because, well, you're famous! (Kardashians, that's your cue!) People are willing to undergo all sorts of abuse, abasement and agony simply for a few moments of notoriety. even with a promise of such. We have no nobility as such in our country, but the people who have those fifteen minutes in the spotlight come close.
Of course, it is all so ephemeral and transient. Flip through those gossip mags of just a few months ago, and the chances are that most of the people therein are best summed up thusly: who? The few, the very few, who have maintained their place in the public eye through talent, determination and a well-paid publicity staff, these are the people who exemplify an American paradox: the endless quest for fame versus the virtue of humility.
Isn't that one of the consistent characteristics listed when an everyday person meets some superstar (an overused term, by the way)? He or she is just like you or me, even shunning the attention they so assiduously pursue. In fact, that's one of the things we both expect of our heroes and yet find scandalous if they prove vulnerable after all.
Maybe it is because we misunderstand what fame and/or humility really mean. Fame has come to be something we reach by our own stellar qualities, not something that happens when others come to see something worthwhile in us. In the same way, humility has gotten confused with humiliation, the idea being that we scuff our toes in the dirt and say, aw shucks, folks, it ain't nuthin'.
But in our multi-media world, no one can avoid those fifteen minutes of fame Mr. Warhol identified all those years ago. And in a life with more ups-and-downs than a manic roller coaster, we all are familiar with hitting bottom.
The important idea is not succeeding or failing, but what we do then. Do we take up residence in Mr. Bunyan's Slough of Despond, or do we carry on some frantic pretense of fame as so clearly limned in Sunset Boulevard? Or do we just try to live the best life we can without seeking everyone's love and attention or dreading universal disapproval?
When we let others' approbation (or lack thereof) define us, we stop being who we are. As the old ballplayer put it, "Be who you is. 'Cause if you ain't, then you isn't who you is."
Of course, it is all so ephemeral and transient. Flip through those gossip mags of just a few months ago, and the chances are that most of the people therein are best summed up thusly: who? The few, the very few, who have maintained their place in the public eye through talent, determination and a well-paid publicity staff, these are the people who exemplify an American paradox: the endless quest for fame versus the virtue of humility.
Isn't that one of the consistent characteristics listed when an everyday person meets some superstar (an overused term, by the way)? He or she is just like you or me, even shunning the attention they so assiduously pursue. In fact, that's one of the things we both expect of our heroes and yet find scandalous if they prove vulnerable after all.
Maybe it is because we misunderstand what fame and/or humility really mean. Fame has come to be something we reach by our own stellar qualities, not something that happens when others come to see something worthwhile in us. In the same way, humility has gotten confused with humiliation, the idea being that we scuff our toes in the dirt and say, aw shucks, folks, it ain't nuthin'.
But in our multi-media world, no one can avoid those fifteen minutes of fame Mr. Warhol identified all those years ago. And in a life with more ups-and-downs than a manic roller coaster, we all are familiar with hitting bottom.
The important idea is not succeeding or failing, but what we do then. Do we take up residence in Mr. Bunyan's Slough of Despond, or do we carry on some frantic pretense of fame as so clearly limned in Sunset Boulevard? Or do we just try to live the best life we can without seeking everyone's love and attention or dreading universal disapproval?
When we let others' approbation (or lack thereof) define us, we stop being who we are. As the old ballplayer put it, "Be who you is. 'Cause if you ain't, then you isn't who you is."
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Ain't Over 'Til It's Over
We all have those memories. You know the ones, where you look back and say to yourself, "How could I have been so dumb!"
Yes, we can explain/excuse our failure with the usual accuracy of hindsight, but it doesn't help. It taps into that time in our lives when we were so young that we had to deal with our own inadequacies, those feelings of not good enough.
The difficulty rises when we can't let go of other things in our lives, those other times when we lost, when we failed, when we revealed to the world that we couldn't do everything perfectly. We can react to that many ways: falling into depression because we failed, obstinately refusing to give up or admit we had not succeeded, blaming others for what happened in an effort to elide any responsibility.
And there are those who are only too willing to play along. These are the people who, either out of a misguided attempt to comfort, or else punishing us over and over and over, bring up our failures, our mistakes from however long ago, re traumatizing all concerned and as a side-effect, giving themselves control of the situation. Such people seem unable to forgive or forget for reasons that do as much harm as potential good.
There are, of course, people who seem unable to accept when something is over and done with, so they continue to fight battles that have long since been truly won or lost. The election is over. You can stop the harsh messages now. The marriage is finished, there is nothing left but the bitter attacks. Family or friends tend to be the worst at this, dredging up events from long ago.
The answer "Let it go" is the correct one, but the hardest to do. But why hold onto pain, ever retroactive pain? Why tear the scab off the healing wound? Could it be the old concept of reviewing something again and again with the hope that sometime it will come out differently?
We don't need to be right all the time, do we? And maybe we need to move from obsessing on our failures to learning from them.
Yes, we can explain/excuse our failure with the usual accuracy of hindsight, but it doesn't help. It taps into that time in our lives when we were so young that we had to deal with our own inadequacies, those feelings of not good enough.
The difficulty rises when we can't let go of other things in our lives, those other times when we lost, when we failed, when we revealed to the world that we couldn't do everything perfectly. We can react to that many ways: falling into depression because we failed, obstinately refusing to give up or admit we had not succeeded, blaming others for what happened in an effort to elide any responsibility.
And there are those who are only too willing to play along. These are the people who, either out of a misguided attempt to comfort, or else punishing us over and over and over, bring up our failures, our mistakes from however long ago, re traumatizing all concerned and as a side-effect, giving themselves control of the situation. Such people seem unable to forgive or forget for reasons that do as much harm as potential good.
There are, of course, people who seem unable to accept when something is over and done with, so they continue to fight battles that have long since been truly won or lost. The election is over. You can stop the harsh messages now. The marriage is finished, there is nothing left but the bitter attacks. Family or friends tend to be the worst at this, dredging up events from long ago.
The answer "Let it go" is the correct one, but the hardest to do. But why hold onto pain, ever retroactive pain? Why tear the scab off the healing wound? Could it be the old concept of reviewing something again and again with the hope that sometime it will come out differently?
We don't need to be right all the time, do we? And maybe we need to move from obsessing on our failures to learning from them.
Monday, November 5, 2012
By the Book
"Do you you do Bible counseling?" she asked politely but hesitantly.
"Well," I answered, having no idea what she might mean, "I do use scripture as a resource in therapy."
Not good enough. She had been looking for a reason not to pursue therapy, especially after her husband was so vehemently and adamantly opposed, so this failure to meet her undefined criteria was just what she needed. She didn't slam the door shut, but it was obvious.
Since then I have gone back in idle moments, not obsessively but recurrently, to wondered what she was talking about. As one of the few self-proclaimed "Christian counselors" in Connecticut (long story for another time), I have believers of many variations showing up on my virtual doorstep, and the request for certain forms of treatment which seem to involve little more than prayer and laying-on-of-hands (no, no, not that type!) has been consistent. But this was new.
Did she mean that treatment would consist of quoting appropriate (or inappropriate) scripture passages intended to address her problem? This would be from the Bible translation of her choice, of course, and could quickly deteriorate into little more than a form of Bible study.
Or did she mean dealing with specific passages from the letters of Paul that have been used to get oppressed peoples to sit down and shut up? Whether we are talking about women submitting to their husbands, people of color accepting subjection, or gay, lesbian or transgender folk as bad, these passages (usually taken out of context or even totally irrelevant to the issue) are used more as a control maneuver than as regards the deeper relational issues.
Of course, she may be struggling with what scripture has to do with her everyday life. She may be in a place where she is trying to determine what she believes at all, and how to live that out. She may be on a journey with no clear destination and she is looking for a guide, a companion along the way.
And maybe she just wanted someone who opens the Bible at random and reads something which may or may not have anything to do with her (what I refer to as the "fortune cookie" approach to scripture.) Because that gives her the permission to stay as confused and lost as ever, but with the reassurance that she is still on the right road.
"Well," I answered, having no idea what she might mean, "I do use scripture as a resource in therapy."
Not good enough. She had been looking for a reason not to pursue therapy, especially after her husband was so vehemently and adamantly opposed, so this failure to meet her undefined criteria was just what she needed. She didn't slam the door shut, but it was obvious.
Since then I have gone back in idle moments, not obsessively but recurrently, to wondered what she was talking about. As one of the few self-proclaimed "Christian counselors" in Connecticut (long story for another time), I have believers of many variations showing up on my virtual doorstep, and the request for certain forms of treatment which seem to involve little more than prayer and laying-on-of-hands (no, no, not that type!) has been consistent. But this was new.
Did she mean that treatment would consist of quoting appropriate (or inappropriate) scripture passages intended to address her problem? This would be from the Bible translation of her choice, of course, and could quickly deteriorate into little more than a form of Bible study.
Or did she mean dealing with specific passages from the letters of Paul that have been used to get oppressed peoples to sit down and shut up? Whether we are talking about women submitting to their husbands, people of color accepting subjection, or gay, lesbian or transgender folk as bad, these passages (usually taken out of context or even totally irrelevant to the issue) are used more as a control maneuver than as regards the deeper relational issues.
Of course, she may be struggling with what scripture has to do with her everyday life. She may be in a place where she is trying to determine what she believes at all, and how to live that out. She may be on a journey with no clear destination and she is looking for a guide, a companion along the way.
And maybe she just wanted someone who opens the Bible at random and reads something which may or may not have anything to do with her (what I refer to as the "fortune cookie" approach to scripture.) Because that gives her the permission to stay as confused and lost as ever, but with the reassurance that she is still on the right road.
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