Marriage and State

Let me start by stating, I don’t believe in gay marriage.

In fact, I don’t know if I believe in marriage at all. Well, to clarify, I don’t believe in the word ‘marriage’.

Gay marriage has been back in the news lately as a result of midterm elections. The measure has been voted down in a majority of states that included it on the ballot.

My two best friends are gay and both are in serious relationships. I love them both and want them to have everything that I have. But what that really boils down to is domestic security and equal rights.

And semantics.

Marriage is really just a partnership, an agreement, an economic transaction. But Bible beaters seem to get their panties in a twist over the symbolism and semantic importance of ‘marriage’. Time and time again, the base of their argument is “the Bible defines marriage as between a man and a woman.”

Well, as a good non-practicing Catholic, I consulted my Bible. It says quite a few interesting things about marriage actually, including:

Ephesians 5:23 – For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior.

Colossians 3:18 – Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.

Mark 10:7-9 – Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.

To begin, the U.S. seems to have moved past that whole “wife subservient to the husband” deal without deteriorating as a country. Of course then we get into family values which I’ll just gloss over as something I’m too pissed off to discuss rationally.

But this last passage is the key here – “let man not separate”. The Bible is saying point-blank “don’t get divorced”.

It angers me that we are more concerned with not allowing gays to “marry” than actually preserving what the word means. It angers me that we require gays to “marry” to achieve the tax benefits, etc that come with the term. I think homosexual couples should find it insulting that we straight-people assume they want to get married, that it’s nothing more than be recognized for what they already are – life-long partners that want to share their lives.

I think the word ‘marriage’ is changing. I think it needs to change. I think it needs to be replaced with a less loaded term and something that more adequately explains what it really is – domestic partnership, committed relationship – then maybe we can make some progress.

The Quiet Ones

Ever given much thought to the phrase “It is the quiet ones you need to watch our for”?

I do.

I’m not quiet by any means. In fact I get teased, very often, about my loudness.

I wasn’t always like that and I’m NOT always like that.

When it comes down to an idea, I’m the quiet one. Typically, I’m not the one to come up with ideas. I leave that to other people. But when it comes time for that idea to come to fruition, it is the quiet ones that keep things moving along.

Every idea needs a vocal leader.

But every vocal leader needs silent supporters. People who do the behind-the-scenes work. Who always have an answer ready, a solution in the works and a passion to get the job done.

It is the quiet ones you have to look out for. We don’t want the credit. We don’t want the limelight. We’re not saints – we want control without the hassle. But mostly we want the feeling of accomplishing something amazing. That’s our high, not the headline or our names in print. And we’ll go to great lengths to achieve that high.

Shop Local

I didn’t understand the importance of shopping locally  until I moved to the Valley. Having grown up in Chicago, I was used to major chains (Macy’s, Chili’s, Jewel-Osco). When I lived in rural Texas, local shops were the ONLY option. Our nearest chain involved a 45-minute drive to Walmart.

I’ve never had the opportunity to choose where I shop.

Now, living in Phoenix, I’m nearly overwhelmed by choices.

A few weeks ago I wrote about experiencing a farmers market in the Raising Arizona Kids community blog. This week the Phoenix Public Market Urban Grocery & Cafe celebrated its grand opening – the only centrally located grocery store in downtown Phoenix. In addition to its prime location, the grocery will feature only local food/drink distributors.

But the market’s opening is more than a convenience for those wanting to be able to walk to get groceries and shopping there is more important than a desire for fresh vegetables.

When you shop locally, you are putting more money back into the Arizona economy than if you shopped at a major retailer like Walmart. This point was argued eloquently by Phoenix Magazine editor Ashlea Deahl in the November 2009 issue. The issue features 130 of the Valley’s best local shops, beautifully highlighting each shops unique characteristics and quirks.

In the editor’s note and corresponding feature article, Ashlea explains that the rate of return to Arizona’s economy nearly triples when you shop locally. Simply put, for every $100 you spend at a local shop, $45 remains in Arizona, as opposed to $13 when shopping at major chains.

But put aside money for a minute. What about customer service? Quality? That feeling of trust that comes with handing your money over for a product?

When I walk into Changing Hands Bookstore, I know the people behind the counter. Their staff has worked with me to provide a discount on titles for the book club I attend, in turn encouraging me to bring more members into their store. When I see a book suggestion, I know a staff member has actually read the title and that the recommendation is not a paid placement.

Think about it. When you go on vacation, you want to eat at those cute little restaurants you wouldn’t see back home. You shop in the tiny boutique stores so you can bring home unique, special gifts.

You don’t have to go on vacation. It’s right here, every day. And hey, you’ll impress out-of-state friends with your knowledge of all the hole-in-the-wall places. Always a bonus.

For a list of local shops in Arizona, visit the nonprofit organization Local First AZ.

Thank you to Phoenix Magazine and editors Ashlea Deahl & Keridwen Cornelius for providing the statistics.

* This post was originally posted to the Raising Arizona Kids’ Community blog.

Turning sarcasm into a teachable moment

If you don’t follow the web comic xkcd.com, you’re missing out. Simple stick figures come alive in moments of sarcasm and debate around current events to which no political cartoon can compare.

A few weeks back, xkcd.com drew up this little number:

The subject of TSA security has been the butt of jokes for years, with the inception of the 3-1-1 rule. However, this one box added a spin I was unfamiliar with – the small threat of laptop batteries. It was fresh, a new argument as to why we should all be allowed to walk free through security with our bottled water.

Yet the best thing about this comic is not the message, but the REACTION.

A few days later, TSA picked up on the strip and posted a response. They could have done a few things with this. I was expecting some snarky, or whiney comment about how we should all just comply with the rules “because we said so”.

Instead, TSA’s response was very informative and took the time to acknowledge that while batteries may be unsafe, there is a bigger picture. And I love the fact they used a web comic as a teachable moment.

It may be over the top and over-reacting to post a ‘response’ blog entry over an obviously sarcastic comic. But it shows that TSA is listening to what people say about their work, no matter in what form or where.

Ignorance is bliss.

Is it better to know, or not to know? I used to think that it was always better to know. After all, ignorance makes the fool –or something like that.

Over time though I’ve started to think that knowledge without context is what makes the fool, not ignorance.

Take an example from my not so distant youth.

I had been dating a guy for a while and was hanging out at his apartment one weekend. Something came up and he had to leave. I figured I’d finish a paper while he was gone, so he set me up on his computer and left.

Curiosity set in.

Remember how AOL instant messenger used to keep all your chat files in a folder on your personal drive?

I don’t think I need to spell out what happened next.

After a lengthy argument, he provided the valuable context needed to explain the certain exchange I was upset about. In the end, I’m the one looking like a jerk.

I’d have much preferred ignorance of the conversation to the knowledge in that case. Even after the context was provided, that incident was always in the back of my mind. I’m not saying that if I hadn’t looked we wouldn’t have fought or broken up, but the doubt wouldn’t have been there.

There have been other cases of varying topics since to the point I’ve started actually telling people “I don’t want to know” or “It’s better if you don’t tell me”.

It has made my life easier.

I know what you’re going to say – the truth is supposed to be hard. And you’re absolutely right. But if there is nothing I can do about it, why should I want to know? What if knowing doesn’t change the outcome?

I’ll leave you with this scenario. You’ve been having trouble breathing, been feeling dizzy – so you head to the doctor. After several tests, he tells you it is lung cancer and it is terminal.

Would you want to know how long you had to go? I wouldn’t.

“Balloon Boy”

*NOTE* This entry was originally posted to the Raising Arizona Kids‘ community blog.

—

Turns our Falcon Heen won’t make it to Oz after all. He forgot to get in the balloon.

As a nation sat riveted to their TVs waiting to hear the fate of the 6-year-old boy, a massive search and rescue was underway. For 2 hours, law enforcement agencies tracked the balloon’s path. When the balloon finally landed and it was discovered Heen was not in the basket, countless deputies and members of the Sheriff’s department retraced the balloon’s path for nearly 3 hours in an effort to try and locate the boy.

During the search, the social media sphere exploded, with constant updates to Twitter and Facebook speculating as to the boy’s location, whether he was in the balloon, as well as suggesting (wisely) that the boy was most likely hiding in the house.

Imagine if this level of involvement occurred for every missing child. What if every Amber alert had the full force of social and traditional media behind it?

Community means banding together in times of need. It does not matter if the boy was hiding all along, or that the whole thing may have been staged. The real story here is the tremendous response to this one little boy going missing. Not only did the local Colorado community drop what they were doing to search for this boy, but the nation GOT THE WORD OUT.

Coincidently, there was a search going on for a 2-year-old girl in South Dakota as the balloon boy story was beginning to hit the major news outlets. The search for the girl, who had wandered into a neighboring cornfield, lasted for 2 1/2  hours and involved nearly 75 family members, volunteers and authorities from 10 state and local agencies.

The story about the little girl may not have made national news, but is a great example of how communities should behave in times of crisis. If it takes a village to raise a child, then the village needs to be out in force when a child is missing – no matter where, no matter how small and no matter how uninteresting the circumstances may be.

Being a Single Dog Owner

When I adopted my dog Layla nearly 4 years ago, I had many reservations. To begin, I had only had hamsters and fish prior to Layla. I had no idea how to raise a puppy (She was 6 weeks when I adopted her).  Since she was picked up as a stray, the Humane Society had no idea how big she would get, or what issues she may have as a result of her tumultuous youth. And when she contracted distemper her first week, I wasn’t sure I could even afford having a dog.

But Layla filled a huge void in my life at the time. I was living alone in rural Texas as part of my service for Teach for America. It was my first year teaching. I had no local friends, my family was 1,800 miles away and every day was an emotional roller coaster with no end. Layla provided stability – something to focus on that took my mind of my own life.

Successes with Layla translated into increased confidence  in my classroom. If I could house train Layla, if I could get Layla to stop biting, then it couldn’t be so hard to “train” my students.

And though Layla is an independent dog who doesn’t like to cuddle, she never failed to curl up next to me when I’d cry after a rough day.

All of this makes me feel like I owe it to her to be there. But being a single dog owner is tough. Working from 9-5pm and then having meetings at night keeps me away from home 14-16 hours a day. I hate that I come home just to sleep, with no energy remaining to play or walk her the way she needs. But at the same time, I despise asking people, specifically non-dog owners,  for help because I feel I’m burdening others with my decisions.

I didn’t adopt a dog as an accessory. Perhaps I made a hasty decision. Perhaps I should have waited until I was married and had a partner to help me out.

But the truth of it is, I wouldn’t give her up for anything. I’m OKAY with the sacrifices that are made in the name of pet ownership.

The hard part is trying to get that point across to everyone else. Having to walk my dog, or go home early to be with her are not usually acceptable excuses to others in the social realm.

I can’t be alone in this. What do other single dog owners do? How do you deal with the guilt of being away versus the guilt of asking for help?

Let’s Start a Riot

One of my favorite HBO series is “From the Earth to the Moon”, which re-enacts the events leading up NASA’s walk on the moon. On the second DVD, the first episode discusses the 1968 flight of Apollo 8 around the moon. When the NASA officials make the decision to bump the flight up several months, one utters the line “I wonder what the public will say when word about this gets out.” The film than cuts to scenes of riots in Chicago at the Democratic National Convention, Washington D.C, Czechoslovakia and Russia.

Watching the flashes of police beating protesters, individuals leading marches, holding signs and marching by the thousands, it made me think about modern-day protests and how they compare.

Why don’t we stage protests like those of the 1960’s and 1970’s?

After doing a Google search, I located a couple of theories that are rather interesting. One answer on Yahoo! attributed a lack of inherited values between the generations. According to he/she, the protesters of the 60’s and 70’s grew up with the values of the 40’s and 50’s – the notion that nothing comes easy and they must get involved for improvements to be made.  Additionally, this poster blamed my generation’s lack of interest not only on the non-transferable values, but on our overwhelming sense of cynicism and aloofness. It simply isn’t cool to get involved. We prefer to enjoy our comfort as opposed to taking risks.

I found another response that provided even further analysis of the 60’s and 70’s protest culture. Scott Lackey of Jugular outlined several explanations in an email to colleague stating why my parent’s generation was perfectly primed for protesting. For one, they lived in a time of numerous political assassinations and drastic political unrest – John and Bobby Kennedy, as well as Martin Luther King Jr. All were influential leaders whose loss was felt by the entire nation.

Lackey also attributes the prevalence of protesting to the draft. Though there have been  numerous protests regarding the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, none have reached the level of the anti-war movement 30 years ago. According to Lackey, this is a result of the voluntary enlistment currently practiced by the armed forces. Though it may not be fair what is happening to these young men and women, we all have the “choice” to enlist.

All of these factors make me wonder. If someone as loved and hated as Obama was assassinated, would that be enough to shake our generation out of its current state of apathy? What if the draft was reinstated? What would it take for someone like me to mobilize?

I have never participated in a protest. I attribute this to my inability to form a strong opinion about most topics – I simply don’t feel passionate enough to march or yell.

However, I am very passionate about my right to vote, making sure my voice is heard in each election. I am passionate about my right to free speech, of which I practice regularly on this blog. Are these forms of protest? Or are these merely apathetic practices expected of any American?

I look forward to your hypothetical suggestions as to what event would cause our generation to get up and start a riot.

Nature vs. Nurture (as it relates to exercise)

I can’t touch my toes.

This is evidence of a larger issue – that of being inflexible, out of shape and irrationally fearful that I won’t be able to walk in 20 years due to degenerating muscles.

I want to touch my toes. I know that involves exercising, which I’m not against. The rub is deciding between joining a gym or somehow disciplining myself to work out at home.

The latter is extremely unlikely without a workout buddy or access to a lap pool. It simply isn’t in my nature to exercise by choice. I can run, but don’t enjoy it. I have a bike, but no real desire to ride.

So that leaves joining a gym.

Here’s my issue with that – I find gyms incredibly intimidating. I’m an amateur exerciser to say the least and the hard core, go all out patrons scare me. And I’m sure they find my lack of machine knowledge annoying, which makes me less inclined to use certain machines, essentially negating my whole purpose in joining a gym.

So to summarize, I need a workout buddy to encourage, a place without scary machines and people who are willing to work with me on my level. Somewhere that appeals to both my nature and nurtures me.

Aren’t I in luck!

Last month, a few people from Gangplank started #fatoff and partnered with Competitive Fit. I had never heard about this gym, though I live on the Chandler border. Naturally, that immediately piqued my interest because I despise big gyms that advertise everywhere (I’m looking at you LA Fitness). When the gym decided to host #twitfitaz, a Saturday morning workout preview, I decided to give it a try.

I haven’t been that physically tired since my first high school varsity volleyball workout.

We worked out on an improvised baseball field. The order went as such: run to first base and do 15 squats, run to second and do 10 push ups, run to third base and do 5 box jumps, run home and do 3 “burpees”. We had to do as many laps as possible in 15 minutes. Jason, the owner, encouraged us the whole time. I was working out with 3 males and one other woman, so the competition to not get lapped helped push me to work harder. Afterward, I was tired, sore with complete muscle exhaustion…and it was fantastic.

I’m one of those people doesn’t feel I’ve exercised unless it burns. Since Competitive Fit aims to push you to your physical limit and beyond, there’s no way to have a bad workout. The lack of machines means I’m not worried about following instructions. The constant supervision by staff ensures my forms is correct to protect against injury AND the workouts feed my competitive side.

I’m hoping to start working out at the gym next month. Maybe I’ll see some of you there…and kick your exercising ass =)

The “A-Team”

I have this very poignant memory of 8th grade. There was this group of kids, not quite troublemakers, not quite the popular crowd, but they always seemed to be having a good time. They were a group of cool unto themselves.

I wanted to be part of this group. So from the end of 7th grade, I made it my mission to get accepted into the group. I made friends with their friends, dated the outer ring of the group until eventually, I made the “inner circle” around the end of 8th grade.

As always, the grass is never greener on the other side. I found out many of them were doing drugs and having sex. And as much as I am dramatic, these kids made even me look stoic. As a result, it was long before I started phasing myself out and finding people that were more like me.

Jump ahead 4 years…

I assumed once I left college and moved into the real world that the clique-centered mentality I experience in my youth would fall to the wayside. Of course people would still search out and prefer individuals more like themselves, but the purposeful exclusion or labeling would disappear.

But then I joined the Teach for America corps.

Our 5 week “teacher boot camp” took place at a college in Houston. Since the majority of us were freshly graduated, those old habits were hard to kill for many. Our sessions took place in a small library at round tables, and several of the teachers in my corps decided to label one of the tables, “The A-Team”. They would actually turn people away from sitting at that particular table. It was disgusting and embarrassing to our corps. I had trouble believing that these behaviors still existed.

I’m beginning to realize they never quite go away.

Here I am, 26 years old, and still cliques, inner circles, the idea of the favored few pervade social circles.

Is it because it’s easier? Are these traditional roles hard wired into our brains? Are cliques our default setting?