Last weekend I was as angry and low as I have been in many, many a day. My thanks to those who wrote urging me not to close the blog. I'm glad my ramblings are of interest to some. An explanation of my public tantrum is in order.
Of all the things I have wanted in my life it is to be safe. Not wealthy, or popular, or powerful, but safe. Safe from being insulted, teased brutally, physically assaulted, called names. Even as a teen I understood that safety of this type meant having enough money to be independent of those who are by their nature abusive. this in turn meant education, which would leverage my ability into income. I wasn't interested in money of itself, or of power, but of what they would provide- independence, and through it safety.
One of the lessons of my life is that my greatest safety has been found in interacting with people. Not in the term popularity, as it is commonly used, but in community. I have found that collective wisdom is generally better than individual fiat, especially when the individual is driven by anger, or a desire to control. Finding a compatible community has been difficult, but ultimately a rewarding and successful task. this blog is part of that. The paradox then is that safety from people is found in- people.
From age 6, approximately, until age 18, I received a great deal of what is today called verbal abuse. Everywhere. Nowhere was 'safe' from it. Bastard. Idiot. Wet-behind-the -ears fucking bastard. Son of a bitch. Or hearing others called whore. Putanna (apparently in the belief that ignorance of Italian would prevent understanding the tone and context). Little bitch. And fag. Fag fag fag fag fag. For a couple of years in college I was very seriously touchy about any teasing. I'm a lot looser about it today.
When working with students I typically start off with good natured, smiling imputations of their intelligence and suitability to their studies. I do this to free them from the sting of asking why, of admitting ignorance in public. By making us all just ordinary people, all ignorant, qualified or unqualified in turn, I hope to take away the student sense of unbelonging. And in telling them they are qualified to be Verizon billing clerks, or that admissions standards are clearly lower now than in the past, I hope to ignite their sense of worth. By deliberate exaggeration I hope they will see they really are qualified, no matter how awkward they feel. Obviously I must temper my comments based on situation and individual sensitivity, because I don't want others to feel badly, as I did. And do.
On vacation last week we visited some relatives. One has engaged in severe self-destructive behavior with cigarettes and alcohol. His health problems are significant. I was speaking to him about this, trying to encourage him to eat better. In the course of this I told him I was not judging his habits, because I don't. I told him I liked him, that I have always enjoyed his company. He in turn told me he enjoyed mine, even though the rest of his family pretty much thought I was a dick.
I do a long, slow burn when I am angry. The quieter I am the more angry I am. In this case it turned inward, leading me to question whether I am simply a burden to those who know me, a judgmental, difficult, unlikable, controlling abusive monster. A dick. A prick. A son of a bitch. A wet-behind-the-ears bastard. In my anger and hurt I withdrew, including pulling away from writing. My thanks to all you were kind, but especially my wife. Without my request she called other relatives, who made clear they don't think of me that way, and then called the wife of this man. She went ballistic, leading to a text message apology at length from the individual. It was heartfelt. We all act badly sometimes, and when we apologize for that it must be accepted with a grace equal to the humility with which it was given.
So in the end, all is well. It was a very bad couple of days. Now it's better. And unfortunately, I will keep posting....
Ted
Of all the things I have wanted in my life it is to be safe. Not wealthy, or popular, or powerful, but safe. Safe from being insulted, teased brutally, physically assaulted, called names. Even as a teen I understood that safety of this type meant having enough money to be independent of those who are by their nature abusive. this in turn meant education, which would leverage my ability into income. I wasn't interested in money of itself, or of power, but of what they would provide- independence, and through it safety.
One of the lessons of my life is that my greatest safety has been found in interacting with people. Not in the term popularity, as it is commonly used, but in community. I have found that collective wisdom is generally better than individual fiat, especially when the individual is driven by anger, or a desire to control. Finding a compatible community has been difficult, but ultimately a rewarding and successful task. this blog is part of that. The paradox then is that safety from people is found in- people.
From age 6, approximately, until age 18, I received a great deal of what is today called verbal abuse. Everywhere. Nowhere was 'safe' from it. Bastard. Idiot. Wet-behind-the -ears fucking bastard. Son of a bitch. Or hearing others called whore. Putanna (apparently in the belief that ignorance of Italian would prevent understanding the tone and context). Little bitch. And fag. Fag fag fag fag fag. For a couple of years in college I was very seriously touchy about any teasing. I'm a lot looser about it today.
When working with students I typically start off with good natured, smiling imputations of their intelligence and suitability to their studies. I do this to free them from the sting of asking why, of admitting ignorance in public. By making us all just ordinary people, all ignorant, qualified or unqualified in turn, I hope to take away the student sense of unbelonging. And in telling them they are qualified to be Verizon billing clerks, or that admissions standards are clearly lower now than in the past, I hope to ignite their sense of worth. By deliberate exaggeration I hope they will see they really are qualified, no matter how awkward they feel. Obviously I must temper my comments based on situation and individual sensitivity, because I don't want others to feel badly, as I did. And do.
On vacation last week we visited some relatives. One has engaged in severe self-destructive behavior with cigarettes and alcohol. His health problems are significant. I was speaking to him about this, trying to encourage him to eat better. In the course of this I told him I was not judging his habits, because I don't. I told him I liked him, that I have always enjoyed his company. He in turn told me he enjoyed mine, even though the rest of his family pretty much thought I was a dick.
I do a long, slow burn when I am angry. The quieter I am the more angry I am. In this case it turned inward, leading me to question whether I am simply a burden to those who know me, a judgmental, difficult, unlikable, controlling abusive monster. A dick. A prick. A son of a bitch. A wet-behind-the-ears bastard. In my anger and hurt I withdrew, including pulling away from writing. My thanks to all you were kind, but especially my wife. Without my request she called other relatives, who made clear they don't think of me that way, and then called the wife of this man. She went ballistic, leading to a text message apology at length from the individual. It was heartfelt. We all act badly sometimes, and when we apologize for that it must be accepted with a grace equal to the humility with which it was given.
So in the end, all is well. It was a very bad couple of days. Now it's better. And unfortunately, I will keep posting....
Ted
.....VERY fortunately, for I and many others enjoy reading.
ReplyDeleteI am extremely satisfied with this response! Everyone makes mistakes, and therefore has to learn from said mistakes in their own unique way. There is so much to be learned from ones trials and tribulations. I can not wait to read your next posting.
ReplyDeleteHappy writing!
-Mrs.Christian/Johnson