Health at any size?

Oh Natalie Dee, you make anything funny- even this serious-ass post.

I'm thinking of buying a scale.   Hear me out. 

I am still a supporter the idea of "Health at any Size."  I am still proud of who I am and what I look like.

But 3 weeks ago this happened:
 

My mom had a heart attack, at 55 years old.  She had already been diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes, as had my dad.  My maternal grandfather had died of a heart attack.  My paternal grandmother has heart disease, had a triple bypass 10 years ago, and was in the hospital because of her heart 5 weeks ago.  My paternal grandfather was diabetic before he passed away in October.

Heath-wise, this has not been a great year for the Bass clan.

Health-wise I have been okay, other than some skin conditions and joint pain.  The joint pain is annoying, but something I could live with.

But, here's the thing:  I don't want to live with it.  Here's the other thing:  I don't want to have a heart attack too.

For a long time, my doctors have been telling me that I would be in less pain if I lost some weight.  For a long time, I have been telling them, that if I was healthy in other ways, could they be sure that it was my weight that was the problem?  I'm active, and I eat healthily, how was my weight an issue?

In terms of my pain, I have tried everything else.  

So I have changed a few things, yes with the end goal of losing weight.

But I refuse to pay into the billion-dollar industry that tells me I'm less than human because I'm fat.  

(But I have paid into it a little.  I bought a pedometer and started tracking my food intake.)

Its going ok.  I haven't weighed myself, but my clothes are bigger.  I haven't noticed any change, but others have.  Which is good I guess.  Right?  If I had a scale, I would have some concrete data to track my progress.

But I have some concerns.

1.  I am afraid that this is going to turn into an unhealthy fixation with food and calories.  I track everything I eat.  I worry about calories in excess.  I dream about the amount of calories I have for the day.  I plan my day around what I can eat.  Eating has turned from something I enjoy and look forward to, to a chore that is full of measurements and dissatisfaction.  And in some way, I get a sick feeling of pride from this.  "Look at my suffering!  I am doing what a fat person should do.  I am at war with food.  I am a noble, and good fat person from being miserable with food."  What am I doing to my self-esteem with this concentration on caloric input/output?

2. It's all for nothing.  I will do this, and be largely unhappy doing it, and nothing will change.  I will still be unhealthy and fat and have nothing to show for all this work.  I will still have a heart attack anyways.

3.  My fat friends/ blog buddies will shun me.  Will this be a weight loss blog?  Not likely.  But I will share things that work for me from time-to-time; and products I like etc.  Because this is a blog about me, and this is part of me now.

4.  That I will send the wrong message about weight-loss and fatness.  Because, sometimes, I get the message confused too. I feel good when someone compliments me on my "self-control" which is messed-up because they are really commenting on how my unhappiness is justified because I'm fat and enjoying food would be obscene. That I somehow agree with the idea that obesity is an "epidemic" and that thinness is the only way to be healthy.

5. Can I say that I'm a health at any size supporter, if I am "dieting?"

I know that I have some contradictory worries there, but, for me, this process is full of contradictions. I look forward to when exercise won't hurt.  I'm happy when my clothing is too big-- which again is messed up because I am happy that I am literally starving myself.  I want to be healthy, but I find myself wondering what my face will look like if I get thinner.  I rail against the diet industry, but search their website for ideas and recipes.  I say I'm against diets-- but aren't I on one technically?

Let's talk about this.  I need help figuring some of this stuff out.  Thanks for listening.

A Few Thoughts on the Zimmerman Case

I have been thinking about what to say about the Zimmerman case.... I mean what is there to say that hasn't been eloquently stated by some writers far more gifted than I am? I was never angry.  I was sad.  But I knew what would happen.  People said I was negative, and cynical. 

I am neither: I just know how entrenched in racism our legal systems are.  There is inequity in the justice systems of the US and Canada (even though, Canadians will say that these systems a very different.) I would note that in terms of racism, they are more similar than you would think.

Of course the Zimmerman verdict went the way it did.  History has shown that the law simply doesn't value the lives of black folks.  I would add that most other races other than white folks rarely fare well in the legal system.  Think of the Scotsborough boys, Lynch laws, the death of Emmett Till, and the arrests of numerous black panthers and civil rights activists. 

But Stephanie, those examples are from so long ago, surely it has changed for the better now? 

I don't want to think of legal racial equity as on a spectrum anymore.  If I continue to think of it that way, I'll get complacent-- I need to think in terms of right and wrong; working and broken.   Our legal institutions are broken in terms of race and equity.  When it comes right down to it, white folks and folks of other races are not equal in the eyes of the law. So instead of a spectrum of less or more racist, I choose to state that the system is still racist. Stated simply, it will be racist until it is not.  "Almost not racist" has made us lazy.

But even if folks still want to use the shifting spectrum of racism, who says its even that much better? Even with the light skin privilege I carry, I have still felt the sting of the unjust, unequal legal system.

For example:  One night I was standing with my husband (then boyfriend) at a bus stop. Two police officers stopped their car to "talk" to me. My husband thought nothing of it, why would he? He has had a great relationship with police officers. But I knew better, I told my partner that they were coming to bug me.  Of course, my boyfriend didn't believe me. But they did get out, and they did ask me what I was doing, where I was going, if I had ID, what I was carrying in my backpack, why I was out so late, where did I live... All of which I complied with, and answered with a lot of "yessirs," and "no sirs."  My companion asked the officers why they were so interested in me (something I would have never asked myself.) Their answer was because I fit the description of a "drug dealer and prostitute" that was seen in the area.   I knew who they were looking for, we had gone to school together.  I looked nothing like her.  She was tall and thin. The one thing we did have in common was our race.

When I told friends this story, they had many excuses- the cops were doing their job, they were being through, how could I be sure that it was about my race, and my favourite-- I should be happy they were doing their job so well! But that wasn't the last time that happened. I was suspected of a crime I didn't and couldn't have committed.  I've been followed and harassed by cops.  And every time, some of my white friends would tell me I was over reacting.   I couldn't possibly know that my race had anything to do with it.

But I do know that my race has everything to do with my interactions with the police.  Each time I had a problem, there had been reported and documented cases of my local police using racial profiling.  This is what Zimmerman did;  he profiled racially and reacted.  Why would the legal system convict a man for using one of their own practices?   

For North American society, racist inequality is ingrained in all of our institutions.  Law, (as evidenced most recently by the Trayvon Martin case;) education (we need a Black History month to help people remember to add us into the story;) media (that Cheerios commercial debacle, Paula Deen, there's a lot.)  Its everywhere.  Every institution tells me that my life is not worth the same as a white person's life.  And unfortunately, black folks have learned to live with that.  I've learned to live with that.

But I shouldn't live with that.  But the fight for racial equality seems insurmountable when I am constantly being told that its not that bad.  Trayvon Martin is dead.  It is that bad.

Apocalypse Now: Snowmageddon 2013

Looka all that snow/ Not that much at first/ Walking is becoming a chore
Visibility is not that great/ It does look pretty though/ Futility, thy name is shovel
Up to the tops of my boots now/ What one wears for Snowmageddon/ Thank goodness, coffee!

I have a strange fixation with the apocalypse. 

Whenever people tell me about some HUGE event that will probably make traveling and stuff a little less convenient, I like to give it an inappropriate title.  When they closed the Gardiner Expressway in Toronto down to fix it, people were worried that they wouldn't be able to get anywhere in the city, since that expressway was a main artery.  So I liked to refer to that weekend as "Carmageddon" because people were talking about it like it was a CATASTROPHE!

Today we had a little snow storm.  But people have been talking about it for days.  Yesterday the buzz at school was that there would be a snow day.  And lo there was.  (I shall never doubt you again Dee.)  Because people were "preparing" for this "emergency"  D and I started calling it "Snowmageddon" in our household.

Unfortunately, the frozen end-of-the-world is not enough for D to stay home for work.  So off he went in the thick of it for justice or whatever.

Me, I stayed in bed and dozed.  Texted some teacher friends congratulating them on a free day of rest, and read some of my book.  But I got wondering how bad it was outside.  So I decided to brave the storm and take some adventure photography.

Really, it wasn't that bad.  Just a lot of snow.  A lot of snow.  And a lot of bad driving.  And shovellers.

I was funny though, I took some pictures and walked around for a bit, and noticed that my fave cafe was open.  So I took a break, and waited before I went out to face the snowpocalypse again.  By the time I drank a coffee and ate a muffin, it had snowed almost 6 inches.

And I started thinking about other types of end-of-the-world scenarios.  Here's what I thought of so far:

• "A-pod-calypse": Over pollenation of ragweed and other weeds that lead to the over-active allergies of people to spread a virus that will end us all.
• "Sunmageddon": the explosion of the sun, not to be confused with  the Hotpocalypse which is extreme global warning, and the need for sunblock SPF 1 million.  Which again is different from the "Hot-Pocketalypse": which is extinction by eating Hot Pockets.
• "Robacalypse": The rise of the machines.  hopefully they will just create a Constitutional Robocracy instead of using us for batteries.
• "Infomageddon": The internet crashes, and we are left to our own devices.  Does anyone know how to use a dictionary anymore?  What about a card catalogue?
• "Zombegeddon": Um. Zombie apocalypse, natch.
• "Babygeddon": No more babies.  No more people.  Like in Children of Men by P.D. James.
• "Crunchmageddon": the opposite of the Big Bang.

Besides being a strange young person, why do you think about these things, Stephanie?

I'm glad you asked that, voice in my head.  I have two theories:

First:   Every time I read the news, or watch something on TV, I'm confronted by news of things that will or should have killed me.  Its tiresome.  I refuse to be scared of possibilities.  So I give them funny names.  My brain tumor scare was "Cancergeddon."  Its how I deal with the fear of the unknown.  I guess.


Second:  I really do think that how we think about our end, can help us to be better people, thereby avoiding that ending.  Its why I like to read apocalyptic novels.  It is interesting to think of how writer see humanity.  Will we come together and help each other out?  Create a new utopian society?  Or will we become even more violent, and competitive and try to eat each other?  it is a great philosophical question.  Much more thought-provoking than knowing what someone thinks about a glass of water. So, are people inherently good, or bad?


I'll leave you with that question.  I'm off to count our canned goods.

Trying not to take haters to heart...

Buy the print from: http://shop.thesearethings.com/products/haters-gonna-hate-print

Sorry for the break, my friends.  I just needed some time away from all the mean things the blogosphere can be.  What is can be is petty, mean-spirited, rude, soul-destroying and disheartening.

Its hard not to feel a little sad when complete strangers take the time to write awful things about you, to you.

But it took me some time to remember that it can also be empowering, caring and thoughtful.

A few weeks ago I got an awful email about how wrong I was for posting what I did about my union and my job.  I was attacked for being selfish; for not caring about my students and so forth. 

Its not like I haven't heard that before.  

But the emails got worse.  A few people mined my blog for anything that they could use to attack me-- my writing about how I glorify fatness, and then about my depression; and because I write about and live these things, how I must be bad at my job. 

It was the craziest shit.  At first I was really really mad.  Then I got really sad.  I couldn't (and still really can't) understand why these people came after my blog; why they came after me.

What is most confounding is why spend the time and energy trying to break someone down? 

Luckily for me, I'm an adult with perspective, and critical thinking skills.  I also have an awesome support network of friends and family that help me remember that its just the internet.  I got lovely, encouraging emails from people I had never met.  I had people to help me remember that "haters are going to hate."

But then this happened. 

Now I'm mad again. (Anger is my default emotion as of late.)

Who has the right to use the internet, this tool, this vast bank of information as a weapon?  That's what is happening.  The internet has become a new weapon.  Its the perfect kind of weapon, because the people who wield it don't have to see the aftermath.  Any coward can use it.

And that's what this type of bullying is, cowardice.  These people are COWARDS.

When the "bullying" that happens costs people their lives, shouldn't we have a better name for it?  No wonder no one takes it as seriously- it has the same name as calling someone disparaging names.  And that is bad, but it is getting much worse.

Children are not being just "bullied" on the internet; they are being all-out harassed; and sexually harassed.  They are being Cyber-Assaulted.  

This is gone beyond bullying.  This is assault.  The cowards that perpetrate this type of harassment should be charged with a crime. 

I'm a teacher, here is what I think.

 
Bill 115 passed in Ontario yesterday.  What is interesting about this bill, is that it limits that freedom of teachers to strike.  I'm a teacher.  Here is what I want to respond (but the website won't let me right now) to people (ahem.) who are commenting that:

"Teachers are the spoiled brats of the working class" - "Financegal" 

And:

"Maybe so, but you also lose your dignity when you protest this bill by taking it out on the kids by cancelling extra curricular activities.  Far as I am concern, ever teach that does this proves to me they are not there for the kids and they should not be teachers.  No matter what issues there are between teachers, the union and the board, there is never a time you use the kids as a bargaining tool, that has to stop. That is what makes many teachers a disgrace."   - "Cael"

And my favourite:

"If we just gave the teachers what they want, they wouldn't throw a tantrum. That's NOT what we need to teach our children." - "RightofCenter"

I'm Stephanie Bass.  I teach French.  I'm new to teaching; this is my second career.  I don't get any of the "benefits" that teachers who are not new get.  I should.  Also, I don't know who said that the teacher's were not fighting about money.  Of course its about money.  It costs money to educate.  More money if you want children educated well.  

But I will concede.  I will stop being selfish and give up everything if I can negotiate my pay (instead of a faceless board determining my pay by my credentials alone) and be paid an hourly wage that takes into account my education and experience.  I have an M.A.  I was once a social worker, which is a handy skill-set working in an inner city school.  I have experience teaching at two top Canadian Universities (York and McMaster).  I speak English and French.  Also, I'm pretty charming so I feel comfortable asking and confident I could talk my way into the $20-30/ hour I would make in the private sector in a professional capacity.  I work from 7:30 in the morning until about 6:00 at night with my extra-curricular activities, marking and preparation.  Of course, this is a conservative estimate.  All of this means I should be getting a base salary of $60-70 000/year.

I pay for all my resources, office supplies and additional training, for which I would like to be reimbursed.  This year I have spent $3000 on training, and $2000 on office and school supplies for students who can't afford their own.  I would need to be reimbursed for the $300 I spent printing my own resources, as well as the $500 I spent on educator resources.  $67 300 for those of you playing along at home.

I also need to travel for meetings, conferences and training, for which I also pay.  That is another $1000 this year (but could be more).  $68 300.  Can I put in for mileage too?

What about the "extras" I pay for because I work in a poor area?  I buy birthday presents for kids that would get none.  I buy extra snacks for kids that don't get lunches.  I buy coats and clothing in the winter, shoes all year round, bathing suits, toiletries. Once, I had to buy a set of socket wrenches to help fix a students' bike.  Can I have an expense account for that?

Right now the total for me, without benefits, without sick days is almost $70 200/ year.  This is significantly more than I currently make as a teacher.  You wouldn't gripe about $30 000/year? 

But there is more: the government legislated that I can't strike?  Something that is written into the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms?  I am not allowed to express my frustration about my employment, my pay, or benefits?  In response, we will take the one thing we have to work with and stop it- no volunteering at the school where we also work.  Seems reasonable.  This is 10-15 hours a week in free labour that I will stop performing.  Although my volunteering is not mandatory, it is important.  And hopefully, people will see its value and come back to the table to discuss this conflict.

I am frustrated that I am not running my extra-curricular activities; emotionally torn really, because in my school, its all many students get in terms of music lessons, and sports teams.  My students deserve it, and need it.  And I get to feel terrible about it.  I get to look my students in the eyes and tell them that Glee club and Rock band are cancelled until further notice. So I get the sleepless nights and guilt about stopping these things.  But, what else can I do?  I need people to listen to my concerns.  Discussion hasn't worked.

One lesson that I teach my students is to stand up for yourself, even when people don't understand or agree with you.  I'm just standing up for myself.  I deserve some credit and some answers.  There are many who don't understand "what the deal with teachers are." This is my deal, one in thousands of "deals."  I hope it sheds some light.

Why I Will (Probably) Never Have a Popular Lifestyle Blog; And Why I Wouldn't Want To

As per usual, Jes from The Militant Baker wrote a post that got me thinking about authentic blogging.  Jes' post addressed the backlash she received after commenting on another blogger's inauthentic blog; an opinion with which I agreed.  I found this post just after I read a great article from Bitch Magazine about women lifestyle bloggers.  The crux of the article was, the more popular the lifestyle blog was, the more the blog lacked authenticity.

The article looked at several popular lifestyle blogs and noted some of the trends that allowed a blog to become popular; they are watered down and overly consumerist in their publication.  In order to understand what I'm talking about, you should read this thoughtful and insightful article first.

Welcome back! According to current trends on the internet in the blogosphere of lifestyle blogging, here is why this blog, will probably never be popular (and why I probably don't want it to be):

1.  Bassability is a not for profit blog.  I don't blog because I want to make money or net an income from this page.  So, why do I blog then?  the purpose of my blog originally was to explore and record my hobbies and interests in a public way.  I'm kind of a show off, really.  But this blog has become so much more to me now that I have "moved in." Now, I see my blog as a place to document things I make, and ideas I have.  I write about my thoughts and feelings.  sometimes my thoughts and feelings are quite serious and controvertial, and may offend some of my readers.

I don't write anything to purposefully offend anyone; what I write is about who I am, and about that I won't compromise.  I happen to be a bi-racial, atheist, feminist who believes in some of the tenets of socialism and works for equity.  As I learn more about these things, I write them down because through writing I understand these ideas better.  Writing helps me learn, and sometime my learning is verbose.  There is sometimes a lot of writing.

2.  This blog is sometimes a political space.  I have written about my tenuous relationship with religion and Christianity; about feminism; about fat oppression; about racial identity and racism.  These topics will always be part of this blog, because these are part of my life and lifestyle.  My life with never not deal with these topics.

Race and racism is a topic that is especially important to me; it is a part of everything I write.  I cannot separate myself from my racial identity.  For honesty and authenticity's sake, it is important for me to recognize the other aspects of my social location, that I am middle-class, and have an amount of privilege awarded to me by way of my financial security.  I am highly educated; and even though I use this to help bring about equity in the world, it is still something from which I profit.  These privileges are also something that is part of this blog.  I recognize that.

3. I am not superwoman.  I don't live in a cute or quaint house.  We live in a one bedroom apartment, out of economic necessity.  I do not have full time employment, I work contract-to-contract, so sometimes I'm broke.  I live with depression.  I probably can't have children.  I was sexually assaulted.  I want my blog to show the good and the bad of my life.  So sometimes Bassability is a downer.  But I think this is important- that's life.   I don't try to focus on things that bring me down, but sometimes they are in the front of my mind.  So they end up being something I write about.  I like that realness, life is not perfect; why should my blog be?

4.  I really hate cats.  I don't have pets (anymore).  It seems that the recipe for a popular blog is to have cats or kids.  I don't have either.  For this reason, my blog is probably doomed to fail.

Do I want to be a popular blog?  It depends on what I mean by popular.  Do I want a community of women to read my blog and gain something from it?  Absolutely!  It brings me joy.  I love the support that the blogging community can have.  I would love to build that community.  So here are some authentic blogs that I love to read:

 http://www.themilitantbaker.com/





http://curvyladiesrule.blogspot.com/

http://gritsandmoxie.blogspot.com/

http://lollylikesfatshion.blogspot.com/




http://lifethegoodandthebad.blogspot.com/

     http://www.milesfromordinary.com/

  http://cmonfatso.com/




http://www.simplyymayra.com/

http://stephaniealena.blogspot.com

http://vocalauthenticity.blogspot.com/




And these are just a few.  Please feel free to add your favorite "authentic blog" links in the comments.  I'll collect them and make a new page.  Let's support those authentic blogs!

Trying to Conquer Art Fright

"What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?"  -Vincent Van Gogh

  

I am not afraid of a lot of things.  I'm not particularly fond of heights, but that is the start of a really short list.  

One of my biggest fears is showing people my paintings.

I know that is doesn't seem like a huge deal.  They're just some paintings I did.  They're just pictures!  I should get a grip about it.

 

But, I have been paranoid to show anyone.  In fact, most of my painting live under my couch. That's where they go after they are finished and dry.  I must have 12 of them under there; not to mention the ones that are half finished.  I feel over protective of them.  I usually don't even want to talk about them.  I have friends that know I paint, but I don't usually display my stuff, so they never ask about it. 

 

Instead, I display my friends' work, who I think are real artists.  I have paintings and prints up all over the place in my home.  I love them, they are unique and colorful, and beautiful.  And representative of my friends' lives.  My friends who seem so open and honest about their lives.  Who are happy to create and show and sell their paintings.

I, on the other hand, have not been completely honest about my life.

My life has been rife with secret-keeping.  Secrets about my depression and PTSD, and the story of how I came to live with them.  I never told anyone about what had happened to me.   Instead, I painted.  I painted things I liked seeing.  Or abstract things to take my mind off of my problems.  They brought me comfort.  And it feels like, whatever anyone says about the paintings, is a judgement on my experiences and feelings; on what led up to my painting them.

To say the least, this is not a healthy relationship to have with any items.

So, today I am going to take a risk.  

Here are some of the paintings that lived under the couch.  Now, they live on the wall.  I have to look at them everyday.  I remember the comfort I felt painting them.  And regardless of what people say, that won't change.  That is the meaning in the painting for me.  Whatever anyone else feels, is separate from that.  And if I remind myself of this, I think I can conquer this case of art fright.   

Jazz Diptych, Singer- Panel 2 2005

Jazz Diptych, Keys- Panel 1 2004

Untitled, 2011

Who knows?  I may just erase this post and pretend it never happened.  I hope I have the courage to leave it up though.

Two Halves

(The title of this blog post comes from the title of one of my favorite songs by awesome folk musician Pamela Means.  Love her.)

I came across some racist graffiti on my way home.  Its funny to have it in my face like that, because its something I don't see all the time.  But I do think about my racial identity a lot.  Seemingly innocuous situations thrust it into my front brain all the time.  Things as simple as what hair products I should and can use, or how difficult it is to find make-up to suit my skin tone (which is why I don't really wear any.)

Racially speaking, I am comprised of two halves.

On the one sides, I come from a resourceful Hungarian family who was able to escape Austro-Hungary before it fell to communism in 1956.

On the other side, I belong to a strong and resilient Black family from the American South; a family who survived and thrived through one of the ugliest parts of U.S. history.

I understand all too well how someone can inhabit two racial identities.  The existence is often tenuous.  

The tension comes from several members of both racial groups that try to remind me that because I belong to both racial groups, I cannot truly belong to either race.

On the one side: A Neo-Nazi assaulted me almost two years ago in a busy train station in Toronto.  I was defending an elderly Black woman against their slurs.  For that, I was punched in the face, kicked in the side and spit on.  For good measure, he called me a "filthy" N-Word, as if I wouldn't have know why I got that beating.  No one helped me.  Some commented that I should have minded my own business.  (Side note:  When I told people what happened, the common response was this it was "unbelievable."  What is unbelievable about racism and hatred?  It happened every day.  I was so angry by these responses.)

On the other side: When I was a student, I was awarded a scholarship by a cultural group to which I belonged.  I ran out of the ceremony weeping being some of the other winners complain about my receiving the same award as they did.  I didn't deserve it because I wasn't "Black enough."

To confront this tension, I have lived my life asserting and self-identifying myself as a Black woman.  I am closer to members of my family in the South, 2000 miles away from me, than I am with the Hungarian part of my family that live 30 miles away.  And with my afro hair, and dark features, it has worked for me as a way to feel like I belong somewhere.

But of course, race is not that simple.  I am both Black and White.  I should not have to choose with which race I more identify.  Will society catch up with understanding the complexities of people, instead of  the simplistic, dated understanding of race?  When do I get to celebrate both halves of my racial identity without needed explanations?  When will my race cease to be a guessing game for ignorant strangers?  When do we start talking about the stupidity of racialized categories?  

Graffiti like this makes me think, that we still have a long way to go in terms of thinking and talking about race.  As a multi-racial person, I  exist, and I'm not  going anywhere.  As Black feminist Audre Lorde once said, "Here I am.  Deal with me."

I love a good boycott...

I read an interesting debate on my cousin's page via Facebook today.   I participated, but I really didn't have a horse in the race as the other folks were deeply religious and arguing about that mainly.  One thing they mentioned was this Chik Fil-A fiasco.  In Canada, we don't have this restaurant;  which is good, because then I would have to help lead a boycott of this chain of fast food places, because of a statement released by their big-mouthed bigot CEO. 

I am pro same-sex marriage.  In fact, in Canada, GLBTQ marriage is legal.  As it should be. I was never torn as to whether or not it should be legal.  I remember the controversy when the Civil Marriage Act was being debated in 2005.  Pundits had the most outrageous arguments!  I remember one proponent against gay marriage claiming that this type of marriage would open the door for people to marry their pets which is an argument being used in the South still.  People cannot actually believe this, can they?  The slippery slope argument does not apply, because we are talking about people.  To talk about GLBTQ people as less than persons is hate speech, clear and simple.  And hate speech is illegal.  In Canada it is anyway.  My point is, you cannot be anti-same-sex marriage, and supportive of any GBLTQ persons in your life at the same time.  Believing that GLBT couples should not have access to the same civil rights as a heterosexual couple is a huge injustice, and heterosexist (which is not a good thing to be.)  It wasn't that long ago, that my marriage to D would have been considered illegal too. 

Former Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau once said, that "the government has no business in the bedrooms of the people."  I wholeheartedly agree; it is not the concern of any government office what happens between two consenting adults.   It is funny how American politics attempt to be laissez-faire in business and economic practice, but not in sex.  That is an interesting political irony.

Where am I going with all this?  Well, please consider boycotting Chik Fil-A if you live in the vicinity of a restaurant.  Yeah, Chik Fil-A is a company that can support any organization it wants to, but so can you.  This corporation supports groups that want to deny some people their civil rights.   You can choose whether or not your dollars feed hatred, or equality.   Please choose equality. 

http://other98.com/

The Code of Kindness

The other day, I had a great conversation with a Mormon Elder who was visiting the city.  He stopped me in a park, with the disarming gesture of his hands up in front of him.  I told him I appreciated that he was trying to make me feel safe.  He then asked me if I wanted to talk about religion.  I said sure.  So we did.  Our dialogue made me think about what I believed in, and how I should express those beliefs.  I am not a Christian.  I don't believe in a god.  But this doesn't mean I don't have faith.  My faith lies in people.

Let me explain.

I do think we should treat each other how we want to be treated.  This is a great philosophy by which to live.  The Elder said, "sounds like you're a Christian to me." I said, but there is one very important thing missing, I don't believe Jesus was magical, or a "god."  I always thought this idea was, well, unbelievable.

Now, I don't hate Christianity, or any religion.  I think that there are good ideas in most Faiths. For example,  I think that the Christian bible has some great ideas.  I think that Jesus was an important historical figure, a revolutionary really, who tried to make his world a little better.  But I don't think he was miraculous; just a guy trying to change the world.

And that notion is more compelling to me;  Jesus as just a guy trying to do good, is more compelling than a mystical figure who was sent with a mission from a holy being.

And that is my point, I think people can work to make the world better, but we have competing motivations that cause us to act selfishly instead of for the common good.  When we push aside those selfish motivations, we can change the world.

Then the Elder asked me a very important question: "Was I a good person?   If I don't believe in God, what motivates me to be a good person?"

I told him that I subscribed to something I called, "The Code of Kindness."  It was a directive I wrote in a journal once.  Since then, it has served as a guide for how I treat other people.

The "Code of Kindness" is pretty simple really.  And it's an acrostic poem, so it's easy to memorize:

I think that my code is a truer working of trying to be a "good" person.  It also shows my strong belief in the goodwill of humanity.  I try to be a caring and helpful person not because I will be rewarded someday by a paternalistic figure that is proud of me.  Conversely, I am not giving and empathetic out of fear of retribution from a deity watching my every move.   I act the way I do, because I think that humanity will be best served, if I am caring, kind, and helpful.  And I believe that all people have the capacity to be this way.  I don't even think that there are "good" and "evil" people really, just that our personal motivations are sometimes skewed and selfish.  If we can consider each others well being more in our thoughts and actions, the world would be a beautiful place. 

So my faith lies in hope for other people.  

And when humanity's back is up against the metaphoric wall, I believe that people will step up and do what is right for other people.  In that is what I believe.

Our conversation ended as it was getting dark.  He hadn't converted me, but he did make me think.  And that is a nice gift.