Tag: LGBTQ

Lessons

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I always start a post with a picture, usually of something I am working on, so here is my obligatory quilt picture–the finished Girl Power!

I have been pseudo-retired for almost 3 months now, the career I thought I would devote the rest of my working years to having dissolved under my feet. I have always believed that there are lessons to be learned from every life experience, each event adding to my body of knowledge, preparing me for whatever would come next. When it happened, I thought the primary lesson I was supposed to learn revolved around career decisions, learning to be adaptable and realizing that it was possible to totally redesign my professional self, choosing a path that would be more satisfying and rewarding. While I still believe this is a lesson I take away from this experience, I no longer believe it is the primary lesson I learned.

I thought perhaps I would come to realize the importance of spending time on myself for a change, learning to relax a little, be still and rest occasionally, none of which come naturally to me. Yes, I have come a long way in learning self-care, spending time doing things for the sheer joy of doing them, but still I don’t think this is the primary lesson either.

Maybe what I was supposed to learn was how fickle the notion of loyalty could be, and how no one is immune to the loss felt when loyalty and trust have eroded or vanished entirely. I walked alongside Carli when she came out and transitioned, and my heart ached for her when people she had known for over 30 years disappeared from her life overnight. This happens to trans people all the time; it’s awful and hurtful and unnecessary and deliberately ignorant, but when it happened to Carli I was still a bit of a by-stander because it was Carli’s story, not directly mine. Not everyone vanished, of course, and we treasure those people who have stuck around to witness the wonder of Carli’s transition. If someone you know is trans, I highly recommend sticking around, they are truly extraordinary people!

The last three months it’s been my turn to feel loss. I spent decades pouring myself into people I cared about, nurturing relationships, believing the respect and caring were mutual. I spent decades devoted to a career that I thought would always be there if I just kept pouring enough into it. But, as it seems to happen when things get tough, many of the people and institutions I have relied on for support sort of vanished into thin air. Like Carli’s situation, not everyone vanished. Quite a few people reached out to me, we’ve talked or texted or met for lunch. More time seems to pass between each communication, though. Moving on I suppose. Unlike Carli’s situation, the people I have known for over 30 years have remained supportive and communicative. This difference of loyalty between our long-term friends might be something I’ll have to dive into in another post.

It happens all the time to people going through divorce, or a health crisis, to people who have lost a loved one. People don’t know what to say or what to do, so they say and do nothing. I’m sure I’ve been guilty of vanishing on people who thought they could count on me, too. However, acknowledging that I feel a loss of something that was important to me can’t possibly be what I’m supposed to take away from this latest experience.

I’m starting to think that what I should be learning here is not to become jaded by the loss of people in my life, because it happens to everyone. It happens every day, in a million ways, but I refuse to let it color the way I view people or the world. People move on, they come in and out of our lives and it’s okay to let them go. More importantly, I will not let it prevent me from continuing to pour into people I care about, and when I do land in a new professional role I will pour into that new role with enthusiasm. The fear of being hurt or left behind or not being appreciated is not going to deter me from being a dedicated, caring, loving person, because without that what is the point?

Finally, the last lesson here is one that began a couple of years ago but continues to weave through this part of our lives. Carli was selling a truck and a couple stopped by to look at it. We did not end up selling them the truck, but these people have become our good friends. They were some of the first people I reached out to when things turned upside down in January. Their concern and caring is consistent and genuine; Carli and I feel supported by them and we gladly return the support and kindness. The randomness of how we met proves to me that when people are supposed to be in your life, they will get put in your path no matter what! So maybe the lesson is to stop feeling sorry for myself, realize that not everyone is fickle, and trust that people will continue to come into our lives and enrich our lives in ways we never expected.

My Hope For You

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Cari and I chat, wondering, what is happening? What makes a white female police officer shoot a young unarmed black man in his own home? What makes a white male police officer shoot an unarmed black woman in her own home? What excuses any man for killing a transgender or homosexual person based on being “surprised” by the persons’ gender identity or sexuality? What makes a brown person more apt to be demonized based on their skin, regardless of their contribution to society, values, or morals? What makes any woman believe that a misogynistic, sexual predator, or abusive man is fit to fill any elected office in this county?

I wish we had the answers, but we don’t.  All I can offer is hope. I hope you have the opportunity to experience so many things you may never have experienced before.

I hope your white daughter brings home her black boyfriend, the boyfriend who challenges your views on what it’s like to feel safe in the world. The boyfriend who says that they must teach young boys in their family to raise their hands every time, regardless of the situation, even if the police have not yet screamed at them to do so. Especially when weapons have already been drawn on them for utterly no reason. Your daughter would instantly jump in front of the bullet meant for him, and your future black grandchildren. I hope you understand why.

I hope your son brings home his boyfriend, the one with an old soul who sees beauty in everything around him, but who has been bullied every day of his life and been disowned by his biological family. The beautiful boy who befuddles you with his gentle and kind spirit, the boy who exudes love and compassion even though he has yet to experience these things in his life. How does he know these exist, and how does he know how to give these to other people? I hope you see the gift he is giving you and family.

I hope your brown neighbor has a wife and children sitting in detention at the border waiting for an immigration hearing. I hope you know your neighbor well, and know that he is a good man who would do anything for his family or for you. He works hard and has told you his dreams for his children, which are simply to go to school and not be killed by the gangs in their country. I hope he mows your lawn when he sees you are tired and the lawn need mowing. He will, because that’s the sort of neighbor he is, and I hope you will do the same for him.

I hope you have the privilege of knowing a transgender person both before and after transition, watching them struggle with the fear, guilt, and shame they must slog through in order to simply live as the person they were meant to be from the beginning. I hope you have the chance to hold the hand of the most courage, amazing people you will ever have the privilege of knowing. And I hope you hold their hand in the most public of places so the whole world has the chance to know these people are beautiful, and real, and special, and belong.

I am so sad about what is happening in this country right now, so much fear and guilt and doubt, all seeming to build into misunderstanding and hate. I don’t believe hate comes first. Hate comes last. It comes out of not knowing another person. Not willingly understanding someone else’s lot in life, not believing them when they tell you their story. Thinking no one else can possibly have it worse than you, and that it’s someone else’s fault that you have it rough.

I do not know why it is so difficult for some of us to believe that other peoples’ struggles are equally difficult as ours, or more difficult, but for some reason we hold it against people who seek to shine a light on the injustice they experience every day. The injustice inflicted upon our brown and black neighbors; the violence experienced by our gay and trans brothers and sisters; the hateful remarks and attitudes continually thrown at our Muslim, Sikh, and Jewish friends. The list goes on. Needlessly, and remarkably, the list goes on and on.

I hope you are faced with love and compassion from those in your life who you have struggled to give love and compassion in return. Those who have surprised with the gift of unconditional friendship, who have left you completely and utterly speechless with their devotion to family and community.  Given the opportunity, these people will open your hearts to an entirely new world, one in which color and sexuality and gender and identity and ethnicity are not required to add up in certain way in order to make a person worthy of love and compassion.  I hope you see a world in which simply BEING is enough.

I hope you have the chance to see the world through the eyes of truthful people, whose hearts and minds are honest and true and loving and kind.

I hope you are touched by kindness and find it within your ability to return the kindness to anyone and to all.  Is that really so much to hope for, friends?

We Voted

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This will be a pretty short post, friends.  I just wanted to share a few thoughts on yet another challenging election cycle. Carli and I actually voted a couple of weeks ago, but the polls just closed a couple hours ago.  So many things will not change, though, regardless of the election results.

We are under no illusion that there will be some giant blue wave sweeping across our staunchly red state, but that doesn’t mean we have no hope. We know many like-minded people are living around us.  There are children and young adults waiting in the wings for their opportunity to stand up and be the change a few adults are struggling to bring to fruition.

We know our candidates might lose, but that doesn’t mean our support for their positions wane. We will continue to advocate for all the things that touched our hearts.  Immigrants. Women. LBTQ people. Education. The very planet we need to survive.

We know more hate pours out of people everyday, people who would seek to terminate any right of existence for trans people, but that doesn’t mean the hate outshines the love.

To my ally friends, please take care of your trans loved ones. They need us now.  They need us to hold their hands in public. They need us to tell people how much we love them because they are brave, extraordinary people. They need us to advocate for them every chance we get, for their health care, their employment rights, their right to use a public restroom, and the very right to exist. Amplify their voices.  Stand beside them to show we are on their side all the way.  Stand behind them to show we have their backs and are there to prop them up should they waiver. Stand in front of them to shield them from harm.

Yes, our LGBTQ family and friends need every one of us right now.  And they’ll still need us tomorrow.

So Much To Care About

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You can’t get away from it. Every radio program, every TV station, websites, social media, newspapers, EVERYWHERE YOU TURN!  Bad news.  People suffering in so many ways, and hateful words spewing out of the mouths of leaders, elected officials, so-called clergy, neighbors, friends, even family.  How do you decide what gets past your defenses and what glances off your well-worn armor? How do you decide what to care about and what to ignore? How does a person sleep at night when they think it only matters if it hurts them personally, but not if it hurts someone else?

Thinking back, I realize with no small amount of shame that I used to fall into a terrible pattern myself.  If a human situation didn’t effect me I didn’t think it was important enough to care about, or even worse, there was something wrong with the people who were suffering.  They somehow let themselves be put in those situations so it was their own fault they were suffering.

I wasn’t homeless, so it was easy to look down my nose at people living on the street.  Get a job, I remember thinking to myself.

I remember believing that if you lived in the United States of America that you should learn to speak English.

Dressing that way, what did you expect to happen? All the guys will see are your boobs!

I remember playing games on the playground with names I can’t even bring myself to type on the keyboard now, full of racial slurs, homophobia, and hatred of what I did not know. I just knew no one else seemed to have a problem with those games. It wasn’t until we had a Black family move into the school district that those games suddenly felt wrong but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Surely you could decide not to be gay, right? And cross-dressing was odd, fun to play along with, but nothing you really wanted to talk about.

The shame that burns my face with a bright red flame never dies. I was that person and I have to own it.  But what changed? What happened to me in my life that has me thinking in such dramatically different ways now?  Well, I don’t have an easy answer to that other than I grew up and lived life, met so many people and soaked up experiences as I went along that completely altered my way of being.  It had been easy to go with the flow of the majority I was surrounded by, to blindly follow the bright colors of the flag, to hold others to a different standard based on nothing but uneducated myth and opinion.

Thinking for myself, opening my heart, becoming educated, learning empathy…….those things were hard, and they remain really hard.  So many things to care about now! How can a person care about everything all at once?  Homelessness, the opioid crisis, food deserts, cancer, veterans, LGBTQ rights, immigration, animal cruelty, climate change, sexual assault, misogyny, elections, police brutality against young black men….the list goes on and on and on.  My heart hurts in exponentially more ways now than it ever did before. Wouldn’t it have been easier to stay in the dark? To shield my heart from the inevitable pain that grows out of empathy?

I look at the people living their lives without any concern or care for another living thing and I have to believe it is pretty hard to stay in the dark like that. It has to take a toll on a person’s heart. Where empathy causes pain because it swells the heart with love, disengagement and hate causes pain because it shrinks the heart and creates a darkness that surrounds the soul, blocking any warmth or light.

So much to care about, yes, but you can care about ALL of it! Don’t pick and choose one over another based solely on your own experience. Care about the immigrant even if you’ve never had an immigrant to your house for dinner. Care about climate change even if you don’t understand the science. Care about the victims of sexual assault even if you’ve never been assaulted. Care about transgender people because they are real, even if you think you don’t know any trans people (statistically you do, though, just so you know.)

Care.  Care about all of it, be okay knowing you can’t fix all of it, but do what you can as often as you can.  For some of us that means we talk a lot, trying our best to educate and change minds and open hearts. For others it means running for public office, or marching on the capitol or raising money for a cause.  Whatever it is you are doing because your heart is swelling with love and desire to help, keep doing it. And then do more. Your heart can take it.

 

It’s Coming Out Day

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Today is National Coming Out Day! A day to celebrate and raise awareness of LGBTQ history and issues. A day to recognize the courage of people who knew coming out was not only risking the loss of friends, family, employment, and housing, but also risking personal safety. A day to honor those who came before and lost everything, sometimes their very lives, to pave the way for future generations.

I have personally never come out, I’ve never had to.  I have never felt the fear of telling my family something about myself that might shatter them to the core. Nothing in my life has caused my family to think I needed to be “fixed” through conversion therapy.  My family never threw me out on the street when what I needed most was their support, love and understanding. There has been nothing about my existence that others felt so threatened by that might cause them to loathe my very being alive.

My family was likely pretty disappointed in me when I told them I was going to be a single parent at 18, but not once did they threaten to kick me out, disown me, drag me to damaging therapy, or threaten me in any way.  I was then, and continue to be, the luckiest damn person on the planet to have been born into this particular family! Nope, that experience doesn’t hold a candle to what our many of our LGBTQ folks have experienced.

I’ve never NOT felt loved.

Lately I’ve had the chance to interact with some pretty remarkable kids and their equally remarkable parents.  The kids have already summoned the courage to come out to their parents and in some cases their entire community circle. They hold their heads high, but their vulnerability is palpable. These kids are innocent but wise, playful but reserved, eager but cautious. The parents have wrapped their arms around their kids, trying desperately to balance the fierce instinct to protect them while helping them embrace their unique being and live out loud. They’ve renewed my faith in humanity and buoyed my hopes for the future.

As Carli was coming out to the world I was there to love and support her. I proofread her coming out letter to family and the email to her coworkers. I walked beside her the first time she went into the women’s dressing room at the department store. I helped her pick out lipstick and eye shadow, even though I really know nothing about make up at all.  I held her hand tight while she told her parents what she knew would shatter them to the core.  But it was not my coming out, it was hers, and I was her witness.

I am grateful for the opportunity to stand beside Carli as she summoned the courage to do the impossible.  I am grateful for the chance to interact with the kids who hold the future in their hands and hearts.

Because of those who had the courage to come out decades ago, and those who have the courage to come out today in what is a very scary world, coming out won’t always be remarkable, it will just be beautiful.

 

Pride Month 2018

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Pride 2018

Happy Pride 2018 to all the dear people celebrating authentic life, loving unabashedly, and showing the world what it means to be truly compassionate, kind, genuine, caring, and positively joyful!

I’ve learned so much from my LGBTQ family and friends, there is no doubt in my mind that I am a better person for knowing them. These people and my experiences with them have shaped who I am today, changing me in all the best ways, helping me evolve, pushing me out of what I thought was my comfort zone into a much more beautiful world!

In consideration of Pride Month, I’d like to share with you a few things I’ve learned, some of the beliefs that I hold now thanks to the welcoming people in the community, some pieces of advice, and a couple things that hurt my heart.  It’s just a list but there are numbers to refer to if you would like to open a dialogue about certain items. Here goes……….

  1. Being transgender is a real thing.  Believe them when someone comes out to you.
  2. None of this is a “lifestyle choice”.  Straight folks, can you just “choose” to be gay?  No? Then what makes you think they can?
  3. The singular “they” is acceptable. Get over it.
  4. Trans kids NEED and DESERVE loving adults in their lives, often for their very survival.
  5. If you are afraid of your kid sharing a restroom with a transgender person you are looking for monsters in all the wrong places.
  6. There should be both baby changing tables and hygiene boxes in EVERY restroom.
  7. One LGBTQ person murdered is one too many.
  8. Every state should have a hate crimes law.
  9. There is no shame in having a queer child. They are a gift, not an embarassment.
  10. As in so many other aspects of our society, LGTBQ people of color are disproportionately discriminated against, abused, murdered.
  11. Just because it doesn’t hurt you, it doesn’t give you the right to diminish the problem or deny its existence.
  12. I respect ALL religions and the right to practice them; however I will NEVER respect someone who uses religion as an excuse to discriminate against another person.
  13. I believe I am a good ally but I still have to work hard not to appropriate culture that is not mine or put words into the mouths of community members.
  14. Being married to a happy transwoman is far, far easier than being married to an unhappy human hiding their identity.
  15. It’s never, EVER been about the stupid cake.
  16. People deserve to be treated equally. Period.

If you are not planning to attend a local Pride event, please reconsider. These festivals often help support local artists, raise money for social issues or educational scholarships, and showcase businesses that are friendly and welcoming of everyone.  We’ll be braving the Indiana heat and humidity Saturday to attend Pride, loving this community more and more with each rainbow flag we see flying against a summer sky! That reminds me, we need to buy sunscreen.

Celebrate Pride with pride, friends!!

 

Letter to the LGBT Community on our 30th Anniversary

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Dear Friends,

You were there for us when we needed you most. About three years ago we took our first tentative steps into a community we knew very little about, unsure, more than a little scared.  And there you were, waiting for us with open arms and open hearts. We are still in awe of your strength, and your fearless ability to live your lives out loud, never backing down and never compromising. We admire your loving relationships, and you validate ours.  You made us feel welcome, like we had a place to belong. You helped us map our future and reassured us that we could indeed move forward together as Carli and Tracy.

We celebrated our first Pride event in June 2016, marching side by side with the first transgender unit in the history of the Indy Pride parade.  We choked back tears of joy as we walked, holding hands, hearing nothing but love, support, acceptance, and encouragement all around us. It was a life-changing event for us.  The next day we woke up to the news of the Pulse shooting.  There was no holding back the tears.  The grief was overwhelming.  49 people, simply living their lives out loud, gone out of pure hate. So far in 2017 there have been 27 transgender people murdered in this country.  It could be anyone of you, our dear friends. Or our son and his partner. Or us.  Yes, we woke up that day and we continue to be “woke” as the cool kids might say.

You, friends, continue to keep us woke about LGBTQ rights, women’s rights, the relentless tragedies that continue to besiege people of color.  You care about everyone who struggles to be seen, everyone whose rights are still not a foregone conclusion.  Your compassion knows no bounds, and you strive to make the world a better place for everyone.  You are quite simply remarkable. Thank you for being there for us, for all of us.

In love, gratitude, and appreciation…………Carli and Tracy

I Call BS

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Every time there is a national crisis of some sort people turn out in droves loudly proclaiming their love and concern for the population effected by the tragedy. Hurricane Harvey is just the latest.  Hurricane Sandy, the Sandy Hook massacre, the Oklahoma City bombing, 9/11. The list goes on and on, and in each instance people donate money, they send relief supplies, they cry what they profess to be real tears for people who are hurting and in desperate need of help.  I CALL BS

Today is the first news cycle that was not lead by videos of Hurricane Harvey.  What was the first video? The president of the united states claiming “we love the dreamers, we love everybody” all while making the decision to end protections for young people protected under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrival – DACA – act.

Let me get this straight.  You love them but you want them to go “back” to countries they do not remember, where they have no family, they do not speak the language, and have no means to support themselves.  That doesn’t sound like any love I’ve ever experienced and it’s certainly not coming from a place of compassion or concern.  How many DACA kids do you suppose are helping rescue hurricane victims? How many DACA kids do you suppose are up to their necks in debris and devastation left from the storm, but they’re at their neighbor’s houses helping with the clean up? These kids are allowed to work and required to pay taxes, but they get nothing in return.  They don’t qualify for any social services, they don’t get “hand outs” from the American people.  They give far more to this country than what we give them in return.

Thanks for helping.  We love you, now go away.

How about that ban on transgender people serving in the military?  The administration and a lot of flag-waving Americans claim to be “friends of the gays” using the phrase “the gays” as a catch-all for the entire LGBTQ+ community, but transgender people are clearly too much of a drain on military so they must go.

What a load of crap. I won’t even attempt to lay out the real cost of being transgender on the military, or compare it to the waste, fraud, and abuse that is rampant in this administration.  Others have done that already.  It doesn’t seem to matter to those making the decisions that the cost of caring for transgender servicemembers is astonishingly miniscule in the grand scheme of budgetary expenses.  This ban is borne of pure hate.  There is no way to spin it to make it sound remotely responsible or compassionate.

My transgender wife honorably served in the United States Air Force for 20 years.  She did not have the option to live authentically at that time. It’s speculation, but I believe those 20 years would have been so much easier for her had she been allowed to serve openly.  Haven’t we learned this lesson by allowing people to serve regardless of their sexual orientation?  Here is something to consider, United States of America……….there will soon be NO eligible young people willing to serve in the military. If we don’t wake up and accept that our young people have the expectation of being accepted for who they are, our military ranks will continue to dwindle to dangerously low levels of operational readiness.  Good luck dealing with the crazy loon in North Korea!

Let’s talk about what it means when our police take the oath to “protect and serve.”  What does that look like for the citizens who rely on law enforcement?  It looks very different for me as a 50 year old white woman than it does for a 25 year old black man. White men taking oaths to protect and serve making jokes about “only killing black people” when making a traffic stop.  Jokes like that are never innocent and certainly not funny.  That statement tells a lot about the person’s true character and judgement.

Are we a country that truly believes in civil rights?  Well of course we are, right? We settled that a long time ago when we let Black people drink out of our water fountains and sit next to us on the bus.  We white people have done our part.  It’s all good.

Nope.  Not even close to being a country that actually CARES ABOUT ALL PEOPLE.  People who enjoy their civil rights are still actively trying to steal them from others.  My civil rights are far more important than your civil rights.  If you get more rights, mine will be diminished.  You will steal mine so I’ll make sure you just don’t have any in the first place.

BS BS BS!!!  Civil rights don’t run out like milk and bread the day before a snowstorm.

I could go on forever, but I have to end soon or you will stop reading.  One final thought, knowing this last paragraph is directed mostly at people outside my community of  truly compassionate friends, so share widely if you would……

Keep your teddy bears, keep your canned goods and diapers, keep your cash and blankets and clothes you’ve dug out of your closet.  Don’t fly the flag in your yard.  Don’t bother placing your hand over your heart during the National Anthem or singing the hymns in church on Sunday. Don’t bother “giving until it hurts” unless you have searched your heart and find compassion for ALL human beings, love them for who they are rather than who you want them to be, are more concerned about their well-being than what you can get from them.  Keep all your gifts given out of some false sense of patriotism and compassion because it’s been proven time and time again that none of that compassion, concern, and love for your fellow man lasts for long.  It’s temporary to make yourself feel better.  It flies out the window the next time somebody refuses to serve a gay couple because of deeply held beliefs, or an unarmed black man is shot for walking down the sidewalk at the wrong time of day, or a statue of slave owner is moved out of a place of reverence.

I hope some day I can stop calling BS.

Being Married

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A week ago our younger son married his lovely fiancé, in a private ceremony witnessed by a very few special friends, at a park that while extraordinarily beautiful could not compare to the beauty of the bride or the beaming adoration of the groom. They are perfect together, they complement each other, they complete each other and fill each other’s lives with everyday joy and simple love.  We’ve watched our son do small, romantic, thoughtful things for his beautiful partner, like picking out a Christmas wreath that may have inspired the gorgeous colors they chose to paint their bedroom.  His beautiful bride indulges his eccentric whims without flinching, like his love for right-hand drive Japanese cars or taking up space in their house to grow Ghost Peppers from seed.

Witnessing their love take root, blossom, and grow strong over the past couple of years has made me think long and hard about what it means to be “married.” Carli and I met in June 1986, married in November 1987, having spent not nearly as much time getting to know each other as we might recommend to our children considering marriage. But our marriage has not only survived, it’s thrived.  We’ve grown so much closer over the years, we’ve weathered innumerable storms, many that would have totally sunk other relationships but for some reason unknown at the time we determined to ride it out……..stay together and work it out.  Whatever IT was we were determined to work IT out.

And we did.  To top it off, we genuinely love being married.

So what does that mean? Being married? For a long time I’ve felt that people may be more enamored of the institution of marriage, and not so much of the long-term commitment required to actually BE married. We’ve heard for a long time that same-sex marriage threatens the “institution” of marriage.  What in the world does that mean?

I am sort of accidentally in a same-sex marriage.  In 1987 Carli and I had no idea we were entering a same sex marriage. I wore the requisite frilly wedding dress, Carli wore a dashing Air Force uniform, we recited the standard vows, celebrated in the typical Huron County and Airman fashion with a DJ, an open bar, paper flowers for decorations, and a big dinner. We were completely unprepared for the standard stuff that was in store, not to mention the transgender stuff that came along later.

So when I contemplate what it means in this country to get married, I think we fell into the same trap 30 years ago that many people fall into still today.  They confuse the act of getting married with the act of being married.  They value the institution of marriage more than the unconditional commitment to another human being marriage requires. Over the years there were many times we could have just hung it up and called it a day.  Left each other, never looking back at what we left behind, only thinking about ourselves and our own personal desires.  But for reasons again unknown at the time we stayed together and worked it out.

Today we know why we stayed together.  We needed to be together, we were meant to help each other, even if we questioned it or didn’t understand along the way.  Our commitment to each other as human beings was stronger than any preconceived notion of what “marriage” meant. We had absolutely no idea 30 years ago that we would live in Utah for 10 years, or Carli would have to travel 200 days out of every year, or that I would earn a Ph.D, or that Carli was transgender.  We knew none of this.  

We didn’t know we would spend countless hours tearing out and replacing drywall, or planting, harvesting and preserving vegetables. We didn’t know we would learn how to fix cars or replace plumbing or electrical outlets, ceiling fans, or swamp coolers. We didn’t know we would refinish cabinets and antique furniture, lay hardwood flooring, install tile and carpet, and map the fastest way to the nearest emergency room.

We didn’t know we would lay awake at night worrying about our sons, waiting for phone calls from California or Japan. We didn’t know we would move furniture and belongings dozens of times.  

I definitely didn’t know I would help Carli learn how to apply mascara or hairspray.  Not that I was able to help much in that regard, but I did what I could.  Because that, my friends, is what it means to be married.

Being married, in my estimation, means being there for your partner, for the family and life you have created together.  That’s it.  Please take special notice I am not saying I have to be there for Carli as if it’s a one-sided deal.  No, not at all.  Be there for your partner. Carli had to be there for me as much and as often as I had to be there for her.  Sure, there were plenty of times when one or the other of us seemed to be investing a little more in the deal than the other but that investment has always been returned.

To me, marriage is synonymous with us. It’s not something that anyone else imparts on us or expectations laid at our feet that we must live up to or we fail. It’s what we have built and continue to build together.  It’s not words strung together in anticipated fashion.  It’s the dailies.  Making coffee for each other every morning, adding a tablespoon of fiber for good health. It’s taking the puppy outside in the morning so she can sleep a few minutes longer.  It’s asking if the plant lights on the peppers need to be shut off before bed.  It’s finding a wreath with the perfect color to paint your bedroom. It’s helping her with her mascara.

Glitter Jars and Rainbow Pens

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I haven’t posted in a quite awhile.  Honestly, I’ve not been able to focus much lately, there is so much noise in the world it’s been difficult to clear my thoughts enough to write.  I thought maybe I could write something that was funny instead of serious, but that didn’t work.  Maybe writing about something concrete, like the number of shoes Carli has collected but even that wasn’t coming through clearly for me.  I decided the only way to clear the fog was to confront it, so here it goes.

Every form of public information, every delivery method, avenue, or medium, is overflowing with a cacophony of voices all bellowing to be heard over all the others. All messengers conveying the same fist-pumping, chest-pounding, self-righteousness spewed by people who firmly believe theirs is the one and only right/moral/correct way of thinking. It doesn’t matter that some of them speak to my heart or that some of them are abhorrent to me.  All of these voices are competing for space in my mind, my heart, and in my life, overwhelming my emotional and empathetic capacities. For my own well-being, I’ve categorized the competing voices into groups that make sense to me.

First are the issues that flood the news that have absolutely no reason to be debated any longer. These have been settled already, why are we still talking about these?

  • Same-sex marriage
  • abortion rights
  • women’s rights
  • adoption rights
  • school prayer

Then we have those issues that should simply be matters of common sense and human kindness or decency.  These are issues we as human beings inhabiting a living planet with other humans and living things should not have to think twice about. They should be a given and never up for debate in the first place.

  • transgender rights
  • access to quality health care
  • elder care
  • a clean environment

Finally there are the things that, as an enlightened society, we should be ashamed exist at all.

  • violence against the LGBTQ community
  • racism
  • transphobia
  • homophobia
  • misogyny
  • religious persecution

I’ve had to push away the things over which I have no control and that have no substantial influence on me.  I don’t give a damn how much income the president claimed on his taxes.  He is filthy rich and takes advantage of every opportunity to avoid paying a single dollar more in taxes than is absolutely necessary.  So, is this surprising?  I don’t think so. Did the Russians interfere with the elections? I have absolutely no idea, but whether they did or not it will not change the fact that the alarm goes off tomorrow morning.  I will still get out of bed, take the dogs outside, give them breakfast, and wait for Carli to get out of the shower so I can get ready for work. This does not mean I do not care about these things, but I refuse to allow them to consume my every thought or occupy every waking moment.

What to do about all this noise and distraction?  Well, I looked around, as all of you know I am prone to do.  Here is another list, but this time it’s a beautiful list of small comforts, and quick joys that are within sight in my little office. Each of these are important to me because they were either given to me by dear friends or collected during powerful, meaningful events with colleagues.

  • glitter stress-relief jar
  • pen that writes in rainbow colors
  • photo of my son and his dog
  • photo of Carli and I dancing
  •  certificate for winning the Rock-Paper-Scissors Championship at the college professional development day in 2014
  • a banner from Botswana

So now that I took time to remind myself of these small comforts and quick joys, I am in a better place to refocus on what is really important. The big things that actually matter and deserve time and space.

  • My wife. It makes absolutely ZERO difference to me that she was my husband for 28 years before she was known as my wife.  What matters is that she is a supportive, loving, attentive, kind, compassionate human being willing to share her incredible journey with me. I love her with every fiber of my being and she deserves to have me fully present in our relationship. Her transition makes me admire her even more, because she has gone through challenges I will never know and can’t possibly understand. But she did it, and she is amazing.
  • Our sons. I talk or text with each of them daily, with them often initiating the conversations.  We talk about our dogs, politics, religion, social issues, trucks, guns, motorcycles, gardening, NPR, higher education, the environment, beer, bourbon, music, our jobs. To me the topic isn’t nearly as important as the connection. I treasure this connection with them. I owe my own mother more of this kind of connection. My sons are good role models.
  • My colleagues. I spend more waking hours with them than I do with Carli during the work week.  I value their presence in my life more than they may realize. My lack of focus lately has had an impact on my interactions with them, my general fogginess and distraction bleeding over into my work unintentionally. They, too, deserve to have me be fully present and not distracted by irrelevant issues.
  • Our garden.  Yes, the garden counts as a big thing.  This is something Carli and I do together, and we couldn’t do it without each other. It feeds our bodies, yes, but more importantly it feeds our souls. The act of working the soil, growing living things that will sustain life, this is a heady experience that fills me with a sense of responsibility to the earth and to the creatures inhabiting it.

This is far too long a post now, and there are many more people I am grateful to have in my life who I have not mentioned this time.  But I do appreciate you for sticking with me until the end of this stream of consciousness.  Putting these words in print for others to read, as always, puts things in perspective for me. The fog will be lifted and I can once again be present in my own life, less concerned about all the noise.