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conulyShe said that a few years ago a mutual friend had mentioned to her that I had stood up to somebody on the bus - over what, I don't know, but something where they were in the wrong, I'm sure - and she really admired that. And Jenn had been a little surprised because that's so me that it would not occur to her to be impressed by it. Or something like that, it comes out worse when I retell it :)
Now, I don't know which bus incident this was. It's not all that important. I do know why Jenn thinks that's so me, though. It all goes back to our dad.
See, my dad spent his youth campaigning and marching and protesting for civil rights. I grew up hearing all about this, and seeing him standing up to anybody whom he thought might possibly be infringing upon his rights. He went into my fourth grade classroom on my birthday and talked for a few hours about his days in the civil rights movement. Everybody else listened, and I was just so over hearing those same stories again. (And if I had those two hours back, I'd take them and be grateful. He died that same year.) Thinking back, this might not have been *that* random, he *might* have just been combining my birthday with a unit on parental careers and all... but then, that means that while everybody else's parents came in specifically to talk about being doctors and teachers and cell phone salesmen, my father signed up as a rabble rouser.
As you might imagine, all this talk and his politics influenced my worldview. Or it must have, because even though I think my views are just plain common sense, there are obviously people who disagree. I don't get it, but there it is.
In and of itself, though, my feelings and beliefs and my father's example wouldn't be enough to get me to tell the person next to me on the bus "No, it's a very dangerous place to cross, it makes sense the guy in the wheelchair wants to get off here instead of the next stop" or write a note to a school to tell them that their students are a bunch of racist pigs or tell off some teen for banging on the glass enclosure at the zoo (well, I might do that anyway). I just don't like dealing with people that much, and whatever you might think I don't actually enjoy confrontation. No, stop laughing, those of you who think I do. It's like riding a roller coaster, but at the end you're not laughing that you're alive, you're just tired.
No, it's not just that. Part of it turns out to be my mother's fault as well. See, a few years ago she and I had a little talk, and she told me two interesting things. The first was that my father had "become more conservative" after my sister and I were born, a statement I found so absurd I literally collapsed on the floor to laugh for about ten minutes. And when I say "literally" I mean that in the most literal sense of the word.
The second thing she said is that my father had an annoying habit of getting depressed and acting it, staying in bed for weeks at a time, and it really bugged her that SHE didn't get to do that and one day in frustration she said he had to get up and wash dishes anyway because "If not you, then who?"
She was completely shocked at my response. She'd had no idea that my father had glommed onto that idea with a vengeance and used it all the time. Those exact words! God, I hated hearing that from my father! ALL THE TIME! ALL THE DAMN TIME!
And I still hear it, but mostly I'm able to ignore and evade that little chiming voice of responsibility... except when it comes to people being awful in public. Then I feel like I have to stand up for what's right, even when I really don't wanna. And yes, I know how tedious it is when That One Person insists on pointing out that your joke was a little racist, or mentions for the 10,000th time that it's not just little boys who get dirty, little girls like to play in the mud too. I know because I'm the one doing it, and I don't like it any more than you do. It just has to be done.
That all brings us to today. Ana's school allows seemingly anybody to put up a flyer in the main entrance, and somebody put up one for a fundraiser (which won't even take place until mid-June) for Autism Speaks, and I just don't want to have to see that stupid sign every single day until then. I refuse!
I also don't want to have to talk to the office regarding their policy on flyers (I mean, they must have one... right?) and why Autism Speaks is not a good organization (but I have to avoid saying they're evil because then it sounds like people who don't know that are evil and nobody listens even though it's plainly true) and why they should next time ask whoever-it-is to put up a flyer for another charity (we even have a few good local ones on the Island) instead.
I mean, I really don't want to do that. I would rather have teeth pulled. I don't even like talking to the pizza delivery guy, and let me tell you the only reason we ever get pizza around here is because they have an online ordering system. Otherwise we wouldn't. Telling people all about Autism Speaks and why it's bad bad bad? Gulp. And people I actually know? And have to see for the next few years???
I'm putting it off until next Monday. I'll print out some information, write a little presentation, and try to breathe. Not because I want to, but because it has to be done, and one day 23 years ago my mother said to my father "If not you, then who" and now it's my curse.
Thanks, Mommy. This is as bad as the proofreading gene. (And on that note, the notices from school aren't any better written than they were. I've brought THAT up to them as well, and no, I didn't want to.)
Now, I don't know which bus incident this was. It's not all that important. I do know why Jenn thinks that's so me, though. It all goes back to our dad.
See, my dad spent his youth campaigning and marching and protesting for civil rights. I grew up hearing all about this, and seeing him standing up to anybody whom he thought might possibly be infringing upon his rights. He went into my fourth grade classroom on my birthday and talked for a few hours about his days in the civil rights movement. Everybody else listened, and I was just so over hearing those same stories again. (And if I had those two hours back, I'd take them and be grateful. He died that same year.) Thinking back, this might not have been *that* random, he *might* have just been combining my birthday with a unit on parental careers and all... but then, that means that while everybody else's parents came in specifically to talk about being doctors and teachers and cell phone salesmen, my father signed up as a rabble rouser.
As you might imagine, all this talk and his politics influenced my worldview. Or it must have, because even though I think my views are just plain common sense, there are obviously people who disagree. I don't get it, but there it is.
In and of itself, though, my feelings and beliefs and my father's example wouldn't be enough to get me to tell the person next to me on the bus "No, it's a very dangerous place to cross, it makes sense the guy in the wheelchair wants to get off here instead of the next stop" or write a note to a school to tell them that their students are a bunch of racist pigs or tell off some teen for banging on the glass enclosure at the zoo (well, I might do that anyway). I just don't like dealing with people that much, and whatever you might think I don't actually enjoy confrontation. No, stop laughing, those of you who think I do. It's like riding a roller coaster, but at the end you're not laughing that you're alive, you're just tired.
No, it's not just that. Part of it turns out to be my mother's fault as well. See, a few years ago she and I had a little talk, and she told me two interesting things. The first was that my father had "become more conservative" after my sister and I were born, a statement I found so absurd I literally collapsed on the floor to laugh for about ten minutes. And when I say "literally" I mean that in the most literal sense of the word.
The second thing she said is that my father had an annoying habit of getting depressed and acting it, staying in bed for weeks at a time, and it really bugged her that SHE didn't get to do that and one day in frustration she said he had to get up and wash dishes anyway because "If not you, then who?"
She was completely shocked at my response. She'd had no idea that my father had glommed onto that idea with a vengeance and used it all the time. Those exact words! God, I hated hearing that from my father! ALL THE TIME! ALL THE DAMN TIME!
And I still hear it, but mostly I'm able to ignore and evade that little chiming voice of responsibility... except when it comes to people being awful in public. Then I feel like I have to stand up for what's right, even when I really don't wanna. And yes, I know how tedious it is when That One Person insists on pointing out that your joke was a little racist, or mentions for the 10,000th time that it's not just little boys who get dirty, little girls like to play in the mud too. I know because I'm the one doing it, and I don't like it any more than you do. It just has to be done.
That all brings us to today. Ana's school allows seemingly anybody to put up a flyer in the main entrance, and somebody put up one for a fundraiser (which won't even take place until mid-June) for Autism Speaks, and I just don't want to have to see that stupid sign every single day until then. I refuse!
I also don't want to have to talk to the office regarding their policy on flyers (I mean, they must have one... right?) and why Autism Speaks is not a good organization (but I have to avoid saying they're evil because then it sounds like people who don't know that are evil and nobody listens even though it's plainly true) and why they should next time ask whoever-it-is to put up a flyer for another charity (we even have a few good local ones on the Island) instead.
I mean, I really don't want to do that. I would rather have teeth pulled. I don't even like talking to the pizza delivery guy, and let me tell you the only reason we ever get pizza around here is because they have an online ordering system. Otherwise we wouldn't. Telling people all about Autism Speaks and why it's bad bad bad? Gulp. And people I actually know? And have to see for the next few years???
I'm putting it off until next Monday. I'll print out some information, write a little presentation, and try to breathe. Not because I want to, but because it has to be done, and one day 23 years ago my mother said to my father "If not you, then who" and now it's my curse.
Thanks, Mommy. This is as bad as the proofreading gene. (And on that note, the notices from school aren't any better written than they were. I've brought THAT up to them as well, and no, I didn't want to.)
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no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 03:48 am (UTC)This way the administrator doesn't have to lose face by listening to you in person and taking your word against someone else's. If he/she even notices, at worst he/she takes yours down. If you keep replacing yours, then eventually he/she may read it and waver in his/her support of A.S. and take them both down. (Assumng that the A.S. flyer got replaced at all, or was under glass, or something.)
I too have the compulson to speak, speak out. But sometimes the indirect, arbitrary way is more effective.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 03:16 pm (UTC)Plus, pragmatically it can't work. I'd be seen. There are even cameras all over all the schools now.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-25 04:06 pm (UTC)