Good Evening,
I know it is late. I have been so distracted by my everyday life that I have put my writing life on hold again. And in the end both lives have suffered.
Yet, I am happy to be here now, and I want to share just a little something that has been percolating in my mind all day.
This morning I heard someone discuss a particular translation, NIV, of the christian scriptures, Corinthians 13:1-13, that said that love doesn't keep score. And I must admit that it was a bitter pill to swallow. I am after all a score keeper. A recorder of injustices and wrongs. A mighty grudge holder, who happens to have a nearly eidetic memory (like photographic), who in some respects truly cannot forget anything. And here was a message saying that love doesn't do this. That love doesn't need to keep score. That love is greater than all the grudges I could ever hold. And honestly, it is much better for me than the bile I choose to accumulate in my soul. It was a painful message to hear.
I went home and ruminated. I tried to talk. I tried to sleep. I tried to ignore my own deeper intuition that I there was something within me that could respond to this wounded place that was screaming for attention. Something to pacify this score keeper who was fighting tooth and nail to claim that the grudges were important and that the score mattered in the final analysis. Something to quiet this angry little man screeching to be right. Some voice of calm to soothe this troubled self.
And then it hit me, simply, calmly, and surprisingly, that I have long lived one specific part of my life in this truly loving manner.
Mini-golf.
Yep, I learned years ago that if I wanted to enjoy playing mini-golf with my young children, that everyone had a much better time when I didn't keep score. There was no time spent on writing down the number of times anyone attempted to hit the ball. There was no record of mistakes, of times the ball left the green, or entered the water, or hit the windmill, or hit me, or bounced out of the cup. There was no angst over who was winning, or who was losing. There was no winner at the end. There was no loser at the end.
Instead there were four mostly happy people who enjoyed playing, looking silly, laughing, maybe crying, soaking in the sun, and being thankful for the time together. No scorecard at the end could mess that up. No regrets about going over par. No tears about losing. No frustration at not being the best. Just contentment with a game well enjoyed.
And as I thought about this I heard my own voice echoing in my mind:
"Why don't you choose to live your life like this?"
And I was unsure. I was unsure if I could. I was unsure if I wanted to.
Mini-golf is one thing, but life? My whole life lived without keeping score? What purpose could I possibly achieve at the end if I did not have a record of everything I had ever done?
And tonight I have realized that the answer is exactly the same as the one I had found when I unburdened myself by choosing not to keep score in mini-golf.
There will be a mostly happy person, who enjoyed playing, looking silly, laughing, maybe crying, soaking in the sun, and being thankful for the time that he had together with his family. And there will be no imaginary scorecard at the end to change my memories or my experiences. There will be no regrets about how many tries it took me to succeed. There will be no tears about losing a game that wasn't meant to be won or lost. There will be no frustration at not having been the best. There will only be contentment with a life well enjoyed.
So, tomorrow, I will try to live as though there is no scorecard of my life, marked with misses and mistakes, because deep down I know that there isn't one anyway. And I will walk out onto the green, tee up, swing my putter, and hope that I can get as close to appointed mark as I possibly can. And if I'm lucky, I'll get that hole-in-one, but more likely I'll get a few over par, and I will be happy because I got the chance to play.
Until we meet again.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Of Giving
Good Morning,
I have been sitting at my desk for awhile now, contemplating what and even if I should be writing. Honestly. I am overtired and over-hungry, my dog is scratching herself silly, while grunting, whining, and barking at the 7 folks outside my house, and there is a Star Wars movie playing in the next room. Beyond that, the folks on my porch, roof, and lawn are busily repairing things with loud equipment and the exuberant speech that comes from teenagers getting to play with power tools. And my younger son is excitedly running in and out of the house to check on the progress and offer help and advice!
I suppose I should explain what's going on here. As you may know we are not wealthy individuals. Frankly we are downright poor, but not quite poor enough, as far as the governor is concerned, and we have been graced with the presence of a work group from a local housing mission to help repair some of the problems with our porch. We will pay a small amount toward materials and these kind folks from away will patch up our mess. I am grateful and embarrassed all at the same time.
It is the conundrum that I live with. My wife and I have chosen to live this way to give our children parents who are available for them most of the time. We have chosen to work at nonprofits, public schools, babysitting, guest lecturing, and giving far more than we will ever receive from those we have helped. And it is so hard to ask for help from others.
It is a struggle for us to get by. And yet I resist reaching out for the same help that I freely offer to anyone in need.
I resist doing things for myself, going places, buying stuff, because I want my kids to have access to what whatever they need or often want. And in the end we all suffer when I do this, because I don't feel satisfied and they do not learn to do without. I have taught them through example that it is better to meet someone else's wants than to meet your own needs first. And then the resentment eats away at all of us.
So today, I sit and watch while others meet my needs. I sit and think these folks from away would surely rather be vacationing on the beautiful coast of Maine, eating lobster, rather than fixing my decrepit porch in the western foothills of Maine, eating lunch out of a cooler. And I realize that I am wrong. They are smiling, laughing, enjoying themselves tremendously, and are having a spiritual trip that is growing teens and adults alike in their faith journeys to becoming better, more whole individuals. And I wonder why I think this is a bad thing.
I wonder why I can't translate my own sense of giving into giving to myself.
I wonder if this is a hard thing for many of us.
And I hope that I can learn to be as gracious and grace-filled receiver as I believe I am a giver.
Thank you, for giving me your time, and for giving me the desire to keep writing.
I'll be in touch soon.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
I have been sitting at my desk for awhile now, contemplating what and even if I should be writing. Honestly. I am overtired and over-hungry, my dog is scratching herself silly, while grunting, whining, and barking at the 7 folks outside my house, and there is a Star Wars movie playing in the next room. Beyond that, the folks on my porch, roof, and lawn are busily repairing things with loud equipment and the exuberant speech that comes from teenagers getting to play with power tools. And my younger son is excitedly running in and out of the house to check on the progress and offer help and advice!
I suppose I should explain what's going on here. As you may know we are not wealthy individuals. Frankly we are downright poor, but not quite poor enough, as far as the governor is concerned, and we have been graced with the presence of a work group from a local housing mission to help repair some of the problems with our porch. We will pay a small amount toward materials and these kind folks from away will patch up our mess. I am grateful and embarrassed all at the same time.
It is the conundrum that I live with. My wife and I have chosen to live this way to give our children parents who are available for them most of the time. We have chosen to work at nonprofits, public schools, babysitting, guest lecturing, and giving far more than we will ever receive from those we have helped. And it is so hard to ask for help from others.
It is a struggle for us to get by. And yet I resist reaching out for the same help that I freely offer to anyone in need.
I resist doing things for myself, going places, buying stuff, because I want my kids to have access to what whatever they need or often want. And in the end we all suffer when I do this, because I don't feel satisfied and they do not learn to do without. I have taught them through example that it is better to meet someone else's wants than to meet your own needs first. And then the resentment eats away at all of us.
So today, I sit and watch while others meet my needs. I sit and think these folks from away would surely rather be vacationing on the beautiful coast of Maine, eating lobster, rather than fixing my decrepit porch in the western foothills of Maine, eating lunch out of a cooler. And I realize that I am wrong. They are smiling, laughing, enjoying themselves tremendously, and are having a spiritual trip that is growing teens and adults alike in their faith journeys to becoming better, more whole individuals. And I wonder why I think this is a bad thing.
I wonder why I can't translate my own sense of giving into giving to myself.
I wonder if this is a hard thing for many of us.
And I hope that I can learn to be as gracious and grace-filled receiver as I believe I am a giver.
Thank you, for giving me your time, and for giving me the desire to keep writing.
I'll be in touch soon.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
Monday, July 9, 2012
Of Silences and Summer Breezes
Hello My Friend,
My sincerest apologies for not having written sooner.
I have missed you.
I have missed "us" being together for these brief moments of communication.
I have missed being quiet enough to sit, and write, and think.
Just as I began my blog some months ago another area of my life "took off" and I found that I was busy teaching elementary students several days a week, often with little to no notice. Yes, I became a substitute teacher, and filled many happy days with kids aged 5 to 12. We were reading, spelling, multiplying, creating, dancing, singing, and laughing. It was a wonderful 2 months and I remembered how much I loved being in the classroom and interacting with youth.
And, much to my dismay, I found that I had a terrific rapport with the 5th and 6th grade students.
I had always assumed that I enjoyed the kindergardeners and 1st and 2nd graders better than the older kids, however I had such amazing discussions, and projects, and problems, and fun with these almost teens who proved to me that being yourself is the hardest job you will ever have. As I watched them struggle to figure out what it meant to be the person they were at that moment locked in the horns of who they want to be in the future, I saw that my everyday life was more of a testament to triumph than I ever give it credit for. The fact that I was standing in front of them alive, reasonably healthy, male, and smiling, and that who I appeared to be was exactly what they saw me as. There were no backstories to my life that made them look at me with suspicion or malice. There were no memories of who or what I once was, rather there was only "Mr. Hilton" at the front of the room telling them that we were all going to have a really great day.
In fact, I found that these kids loved that I could be silly and serious, and that I gave them the spaces they needed to define their own boundaries and realities. I began each class day by explaining my philosophy of teaching, but of course not in so many words. I would tell them that I believed that one of the most important parts of their day was recess and that if at all possible I would never hold them in for recess. This revelation was often met with shocked silence or outright applause and cheering. I told them that if they didn't do anything to make me keep them in, then I wouldn't need to keep them in. The questions would then flood out - what would they have to do to cause me to restrict their free time? I would reply that it was very simple, that if I was talking then I expected them not to be talking, that they needed to raise their hand if they had a question, that they needed to be respectful of me and of the other students, to treat others as they wanted to be treated. "Is that all????" they would ask. And I would say yes, absolutely, that is all there is. And our day would begin.
This method seemed to work well for me, and I saw in time that it was because I was empowering the kids to make choices and actions that would benefit them rather than punish them. Instead of setting up a system for bad behavior I created a way for them to be rewarded for their good behavior. Sometimes I would even give the younger ones extra time outside to play at the end of the day if they had done well. It felt right to be doing what I was doing and I saw the results in myself and in the kids quickly.
I grew more than they did in confidence and maturity. And I discovered how to utilize my love of "school" for the good of others.
I received my Education Technician Certification I,II,III in April and I have been pursuing openings in several locations. I would love to have my own classroom some day. I am working on the steps I need to take to get ME State certification as an elementary teacher.
In the meantime, with Summer upon us, I have been parenting my own sons and babysitting a six year old boy for a friend. I have been trying to do educational activities with them, but as you may imagine, an almost 9 year old boy and 2 six year old boys are not always as willing to participate in "school" when it is obviously VACATION!!!
We have a few Rec. programs we are participating in, and the boys have all latched onto "Field Trip Fridays" with a vengeance. Two weeks ago we went to the Animal Refuge and last week we went to the movies. We have a trip planned to the Boothbay Railway Village tomorrow for my mother's birthday, mini-golf included, so honestly I'm not sure I can top that on Friday! By then the local lake may seem like paradise...
So, I am tired, I am busy, I am often hungrier than I realize, and I have little time to contemplate the bigger things in my life, but deep down I am happy.
I am happy that it is Summer Vacation.
I am happy that there is a warm breeze, bright sun, fresh air, cool water, my laundry is flapping on the clothesline (I am not currently flapping), and that there are these quiet moments when 3 little boys are running around the lawn pell-mell, shouting, laughing, and playing with toys.
I hope that you are well and that your moments of vacation, if not as elongated as you might wish, bring you the joy that only comes when we live into this miracle of Summer.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
My sincerest apologies for not having written sooner.
I have missed you.
I have missed "us" being together for these brief moments of communication.
I have missed being quiet enough to sit, and write, and think.
Just as I began my blog some months ago another area of my life "took off" and I found that I was busy teaching elementary students several days a week, often with little to no notice. Yes, I became a substitute teacher, and filled many happy days with kids aged 5 to 12. We were reading, spelling, multiplying, creating, dancing, singing, and laughing. It was a wonderful 2 months and I remembered how much I loved being in the classroom and interacting with youth.
And, much to my dismay, I found that I had a terrific rapport with the 5th and 6th grade students.
I had always assumed that I enjoyed the kindergardeners and 1st and 2nd graders better than the older kids, however I had such amazing discussions, and projects, and problems, and fun with these almost teens who proved to me that being yourself is the hardest job you will ever have. As I watched them struggle to figure out what it meant to be the person they were at that moment locked in the horns of who they want to be in the future, I saw that my everyday life was more of a testament to triumph than I ever give it credit for. The fact that I was standing in front of them alive, reasonably healthy, male, and smiling, and that who I appeared to be was exactly what they saw me as. There were no backstories to my life that made them look at me with suspicion or malice. There were no memories of who or what I once was, rather there was only "Mr. Hilton" at the front of the room telling them that we were all going to have a really great day.
In fact, I found that these kids loved that I could be silly and serious, and that I gave them the spaces they needed to define their own boundaries and realities. I began each class day by explaining my philosophy of teaching, but of course not in so many words. I would tell them that I believed that one of the most important parts of their day was recess and that if at all possible I would never hold them in for recess. This revelation was often met with shocked silence or outright applause and cheering. I told them that if they didn't do anything to make me keep them in, then I wouldn't need to keep them in. The questions would then flood out - what would they have to do to cause me to restrict their free time? I would reply that it was very simple, that if I was talking then I expected them not to be talking, that they needed to raise their hand if they had a question, that they needed to be respectful of me and of the other students, to treat others as they wanted to be treated. "Is that all????" they would ask. And I would say yes, absolutely, that is all there is. And our day would begin.
This method seemed to work well for me, and I saw in time that it was because I was empowering the kids to make choices and actions that would benefit them rather than punish them. Instead of setting up a system for bad behavior I created a way for them to be rewarded for their good behavior. Sometimes I would even give the younger ones extra time outside to play at the end of the day if they had done well. It felt right to be doing what I was doing and I saw the results in myself and in the kids quickly.
I grew more than they did in confidence and maturity. And I discovered how to utilize my love of "school" for the good of others.
I received my Education Technician Certification I,II,III in April and I have been pursuing openings in several locations. I would love to have my own classroom some day. I am working on the steps I need to take to get ME State certification as an elementary teacher.
In the meantime, with Summer upon us, I have been parenting my own sons and babysitting a six year old boy for a friend. I have been trying to do educational activities with them, but as you may imagine, an almost 9 year old boy and 2 six year old boys are not always as willing to participate in "school" when it is obviously VACATION!!!
We have a few Rec. programs we are participating in, and the boys have all latched onto "Field Trip Fridays" with a vengeance. Two weeks ago we went to the Animal Refuge and last week we went to the movies. We have a trip planned to the Boothbay Railway Village tomorrow for my mother's birthday, mini-golf included, so honestly I'm not sure I can top that on Friday! By then the local lake may seem like paradise...
So, I am tired, I am busy, I am often hungrier than I realize, and I have little time to contemplate the bigger things in my life, but deep down I am happy.
I am happy that it is Summer Vacation.
I am happy that there is a warm breeze, bright sun, fresh air, cool water, my laundry is flapping on the clothesline (I am not currently flapping), and that there are these quiet moments when 3 little boys are running around the lawn pell-mell, shouting, laughing, and playing with toys.
I hope that you are well and that your moments of vacation, if not as elongated as you might wish, bring you the joy that only comes when we live into this miracle of Summer.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Sex, Gender, and Performance
Hello, I've missed you!
I've spent the past few days working (read: guest speaking to a psychology class and beginning a new therapeutic model with my therapist) and have not had the emotional energy to share my thoughts. Add the laundry, cleaning, general schlepping, and everything else and you get a guy who forgets how to type his own name, let alone a coherent thought!
So, I wanted to share about the speaking I did on Monday. It was to a fabulous psychology class at a local community college, filled with bright and thoughtful individuals. And their professor is a gem!
The class is all about Sexual Orientation and the components thereof, particularly separating out sex, gender, and orientation as distinct components of the human sexuality experience. The majority of people equate sex, gender, and orientation as one basic thing, for example a "straight man" or a "lesbian" or a "transsexual." But in reality these labels only tell part of the story of who we are.
Sex, not the act, but the biological determination of our genes and chromosomes, is most often labeled as Male or Female. Like on your driver's license, but not as Austin Powers once deftly stated as "Yes, please!" Sex is a biological reference to the genitalia, the reproductive organs, and the genetics you possess. And although for many of us an "M" or an "F" is just fine, the reality is that there are far more true sexes than just those. Intersex conditions, i.e. genetic variances in a person's biological sex, occur on average in 1:100 individuals worldwide. This means that there are plenty of people out there who have no idea that their sex isn't exactly what they believe it to be. Now, I'm not saying millions of people are unaware of hidden internal organs, or smaller than average or larger than average genitals, or extra nipples, or whatever. No, I'm saying that our chromosomes and genes are far more complex and delicate than we realize. Because we do not walk around with our genome on display it is impossible to know who might look different than we expect if we could see their internal workings. For that matter, the natural variation among primary and secondary sex characteristics is also far greater than we believe it to be, because breast size and penis size are a complex occurrence of genetics, nutrition, disease, environmental factors and medical interventions. Breast implants are incredibly common, and other surgeries, though not discussed, happen frequently as well. So sex = body. But sex also equals mind. Who we are at a neurological level affects what happens between the sheets.
Enter then, Gender, a far more subjective aspect of the human experience. Gender is all about how we perceive ourselves and how others perceive us. The most common terms associated with gender are masculine and feminine, and that alone says much about our cultural beliefs about who we are. Masculinity starts with a latin root that refers to being of the male sex, and is often defined by physical characteristics. Virility, strength, performance, and size are all parts of the male puzzle. Femininity also starts with a latin root for female, it was a word that did not stand in comparison or contrast to the root for male though. That word, femella, the diminutive of femina, was altered to female to help english speakers and writers more than 600 years ago, and it was physically based because it traces back to the root "to suckle" or in modern language the ability to breastfeed. But femininity as defined in modern western culture is about characteristics and character traits that appear to center around emotional responses and interactions with others rather than physical ones. Nurturing, gentleness, sensitivity, and empathy are the operative terms for this.
What does this say about us? So much and so little all at the same time. We are beings whose primary function is to reproduce our genes, like all other creatures on this planet we engage with each other in the hopes of creating more of us, and the way to make sure we will reproduce is to know that the person we are interacting with is capable of providing the other half of the genetic material we lack. So, we learn to ascribe gender. We learn to create identifying traits that tell us and everyone around us exactly what genetic material we possess, ova or sperm. And the dance begins. We need to find a mate, and we create elaborate methods of showing ourselves off.
Right now you may be thinking that I have digressed into biological determinism and have wandered away from gender. Actually, I believe that gender is both biologically necessary as well as complete construct. If we all walked around naked there would be little or no need for gender. There would be little reason to define what makes a man masculine and what makes a woman feminine because we'd never need to guess. But, even in remote populations where clothing is not a priority, nor is there a media presence attempting to sell products based on gender, there are still distinct and defined gender roles. In almost every culture ever studied there has been one sex that does one set of tasks and the other sex does something different. Most often the males sit around and do guy stuff, occasionally getting a larger meat product for the group, while the females birth, nurse, and rear children while cooking, cleaning, and creating much of the stability for the group. Biologically this makes sense, and if gender is a social construct then it make sense too that even in cultures where life is more survival driven we must come to agreement about what roles we are going to play. Why? Because we are so deeply complex as individuals, that there are certain rules or social mores that we must agree to adhere to in order to protect ourselves and ensure that future generations will exist. That we manage to live together as a group is a miracle unto itself. Creating gender roles is a way to solidify a group and create a sense of balance out of total chaos.
Gender is performance. Gender is necessity. Gender is at once ancient and constantly evolving.
We are gendered individuals and we must choose each day what that will look like.
And yet, there is far more than masculine and feminine. Not to mention that those terms are endpoints on an expansive and possibly non-exhaustive spectrum. With over 7 billion people in the world now, it is hard to imagine that my definition of feminine will be exactly like his, or hers, or yours. There are a myriad of gender representations and I want to detail them with thoughtfulness and care.
I also want to share about sexual orientation, however I feel that I should give us all a break. No matter how exciting the topic is, I have kids that I need to take to the dentist and garbage, laundry, shopping and dishes that refuse to do themselves. It is a precious reality that as a guy who gets to speak and write and share my life with others, I have been given the gift of sharing the everyday moments with my wife, sons, and community. And although there are days I would love to sit and write without interruption, I suspect that I might forget the reasons why I was writing in the first place. Each time one of my sons hugs me, or my wife thanks me for cooking, or I breathe in the fresh air as I hang tiny shirts and pants on a clothesline, I remember why I'm really here. To be their Dad, her husband, a helper, protecter, lover, and friend is my true calling and I cannot ask for a greater cause than that.
So, go have a cup of tea, or coffee, maybe a donut, maybe an orange, whatever you prefer and spend some time thinking about your gender performance. Think about what you want others to see in you, but more importantly think about what you want to see in you. Don't rely on cultural influences to tell you what your gender performance should be, rather search your own mind for what makes you feel masculine or feminine and why. Search your memories of others and how they performed for you, your family, or for themselves. When you find the activities and emotional responses that make you happy, do them! Perform your own interpretation of gender! Perform like everyone is watching, and then remember that no one really is, because they are too worried that you and others are watching them!
Were you a tomboy? Were you a sissy? Were you a girly-girl? Were you all boy?
What would you be, if no one was watching?
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
I've spent the past few days working (read: guest speaking to a psychology class and beginning a new therapeutic model with my therapist) and have not had the emotional energy to share my thoughts. Add the laundry, cleaning, general schlepping, and everything else and you get a guy who forgets how to type his own name, let alone a coherent thought!
So, I wanted to share about the speaking I did on Monday. It was to a fabulous psychology class at a local community college, filled with bright and thoughtful individuals. And their professor is a gem!
The class is all about Sexual Orientation and the components thereof, particularly separating out sex, gender, and orientation as distinct components of the human sexuality experience. The majority of people equate sex, gender, and orientation as one basic thing, for example a "straight man" or a "lesbian" or a "transsexual." But in reality these labels only tell part of the story of who we are.
Sex, not the act, but the biological determination of our genes and chromosomes, is most often labeled as Male or Female. Like on your driver's license, but not as Austin Powers once deftly stated as "Yes, please!" Sex is a biological reference to the genitalia, the reproductive organs, and the genetics you possess. And although for many of us an "M" or an "F" is just fine, the reality is that there are far more true sexes than just those. Intersex conditions, i.e. genetic variances in a person's biological sex, occur on average in 1:100 individuals worldwide. This means that there are plenty of people out there who have no idea that their sex isn't exactly what they believe it to be. Now, I'm not saying millions of people are unaware of hidden internal organs, or smaller than average or larger than average genitals, or extra nipples, or whatever. No, I'm saying that our chromosomes and genes are far more complex and delicate than we realize. Because we do not walk around with our genome on display it is impossible to know who might look different than we expect if we could see their internal workings. For that matter, the natural variation among primary and secondary sex characteristics is also far greater than we believe it to be, because breast size and penis size are a complex occurrence of genetics, nutrition, disease, environmental factors and medical interventions. Breast implants are incredibly common, and other surgeries, though not discussed, happen frequently as well. So sex = body. But sex also equals mind. Who we are at a neurological level affects what happens between the sheets.
Enter then, Gender, a far more subjective aspect of the human experience. Gender is all about how we perceive ourselves and how others perceive us. The most common terms associated with gender are masculine and feminine, and that alone says much about our cultural beliefs about who we are. Masculinity starts with a latin root that refers to being of the male sex, and is often defined by physical characteristics. Virility, strength, performance, and size are all parts of the male puzzle. Femininity also starts with a latin root for female, it was a word that did not stand in comparison or contrast to the root for male though. That word, femella, the diminutive of femina, was altered to female to help english speakers and writers more than 600 years ago, and it was physically based because it traces back to the root "to suckle" or in modern language the ability to breastfeed. But femininity as defined in modern western culture is about characteristics and character traits that appear to center around emotional responses and interactions with others rather than physical ones. Nurturing, gentleness, sensitivity, and empathy are the operative terms for this.
What does this say about us? So much and so little all at the same time. We are beings whose primary function is to reproduce our genes, like all other creatures on this planet we engage with each other in the hopes of creating more of us, and the way to make sure we will reproduce is to know that the person we are interacting with is capable of providing the other half of the genetic material we lack. So, we learn to ascribe gender. We learn to create identifying traits that tell us and everyone around us exactly what genetic material we possess, ova or sperm. And the dance begins. We need to find a mate, and we create elaborate methods of showing ourselves off.
Right now you may be thinking that I have digressed into biological determinism and have wandered away from gender. Actually, I believe that gender is both biologically necessary as well as complete construct. If we all walked around naked there would be little or no need for gender. There would be little reason to define what makes a man masculine and what makes a woman feminine because we'd never need to guess. But, even in remote populations where clothing is not a priority, nor is there a media presence attempting to sell products based on gender, there are still distinct and defined gender roles. In almost every culture ever studied there has been one sex that does one set of tasks and the other sex does something different. Most often the males sit around and do guy stuff, occasionally getting a larger meat product for the group, while the females birth, nurse, and rear children while cooking, cleaning, and creating much of the stability for the group. Biologically this makes sense, and if gender is a social construct then it make sense too that even in cultures where life is more survival driven we must come to agreement about what roles we are going to play. Why? Because we are so deeply complex as individuals, that there are certain rules or social mores that we must agree to adhere to in order to protect ourselves and ensure that future generations will exist. That we manage to live together as a group is a miracle unto itself. Creating gender roles is a way to solidify a group and create a sense of balance out of total chaos.
Gender is performance. Gender is necessity. Gender is at once ancient and constantly evolving.
We are gendered individuals and we must choose each day what that will look like.
And yet, there is far more than masculine and feminine. Not to mention that those terms are endpoints on an expansive and possibly non-exhaustive spectrum. With over 7 billion people in the world now, it is hard to imagine that my definition of feminine will be exactly like his, or hers, or yours. There are a myriad of gender representations and I want to detail them with thoughtfulness and care.
I also want to share about sexual orientation, however I feel that I should give us all a break. No matter how exciting the topic is, I have kids that I need to take to the dentist and garbage, laundry, shopping and dishes that refuse to do themselves. It is a precious reality that as a guy who gets to speak and write and share my life with others, I have been given the gift of sharing the everyday moments with my wife, sons, and community. And although there are days I would love to sit and write without interruption, I suspect that I might forget the reasons why I was writing in the first place. Each time one of my sons hugs me, or my wife thanks me for cooking, or I breathe in the fresh air as I hang tiny shirts and pants on a clothesline, I remember why I'm really here. To be their Dad, her husband, a helper, protecter, lover, and friend is my true calling and I cannot ask for a greater cause than that.
So, go have a cup of tea, or coffee, maybe a donut, maybe an orange, whatever you prefer and spend some time thinking about your gender performance. Think about what you want others to see in you, but more importantly think about what you want to see in you. Don't rely on cultural influences to tell you what your gender performance should be, rather search your own mind for what makes you feel masculine or feminine and why. Search your memories of others and how they performed for you, your family, or for themselves. When you find the activities and emotional responses that make you happy, do them! Perform your own interpretation of gender! Perform like everyone is watching, and then remember that no one really is, because they are too worried that you and others are watching them!
Were you a tomboy? Were you a sissy? Were you a girly-girl? Were you all boy?
What would you be, if no one was watching?
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Of Changes, Expressions, and Literalism
Good Morning! And Happy April Fools Day to all of you who participate in such things.
I will tell you right now that I HATE April Fools Day!
This is due in large part to my status as an individual on the autism spectrum. As an Aspie, I do not like change. As a matter of fact I thrive on routine, knowing what is coming next and who and what situation I will need to deal with. I do not care for surprises. I get annoyed when my plans, however basic they may be, get interrupted by regular everyday things. It's worse when it's something others knew about and neglected to share with me in advance.
But I also have a problem with being incredibly literalistic. Let me give you an example that you will find humorous, and that I will pretend to see the humor value in.
There is a common American expression "Making Ends Meet" that refers to financial matters. This idiom effectively means that someone is earning enough money to pay all the bills, but barely. There is an underlying statement of narrowly avoiding poverty.
But as an Aspie, this is how I interpreted the phrase, "Making Ends Meat" i.e. the cheaper, rounded, sealed in something end of the bologna, because one did not have enough money to purchase the good cuts of deli meat. In my mind, whenever I hear that phrase, even today, I see the curling up beige hunk of meat in deli paper sitting in the ancient avocado green fridge in my childhood home. We were always making ends meet, and therefore could only afford the ends of the meat.
Sorry for the digression, however I believe it illustrates why I have a problem with April Fools Day. I cannot distinguish between joke and real. I remember in the movie Temple Grandin, Claire Danes saying a line in the high school French class, asking why there were so many "eels" in French. She meant the word "ils" a pronoun for his/hers, but due to pronunciation she heard "eels" and as a visual thinker saw underwater snakes swimming before her eyes. I understand this problem, though I never dealt with marine life in foreign language lessons, I too often see the literal and miss the nuance.
Another common expression talks about not being able to see the forest for the trees. Aspies are intrinsically tuned into details. Every detail. All the time. I see every tree there is to see and in fact have little or no conception that there even is a forest. I do mean this literally. I live in a very wooded area and all I can see around me are a variety of individual trees. Each one is unique. Each one is distinct. Each one is mathematically discrete. I have been to state parks, national parks, and the like and all I ever see is a series of trees standing next to each other.
Of course, I have learned that this idiom really means not getting caught up in the details of something and missing the bigger picture. I'm not sure that as an Aspie I have that ability. I'm not sure what the bigger picture is. My bigger picture is mostly limited to the here and now. And perhaps, this is because I see everything all at once. My sensory input is so overwhelmed by the ability to recognize every image, sound, scent, temperature, taste, and feeling occurring at any given moment that my brain is forced to selectively condense the bigger picture to a manageable size. I am left with what appears to others as a tunnel like narrowness, because I cannot see the larger issues or outcomes.
And so, today, April Fools Day, I will wait for the pranks, I will wait for the unknown, I will live in an elevated state of fear. But it will not be unlike any other day. It is the intent that is different today. There will be those seeking a laugh at another's expense today. Yet there are those who seek this of me every day.
I am different. And those who fear difference and diversity will look to compare themselves to me. They will look to my Aspie, to my Intersex, to my Transgender, to my Stay-at-Home Dad status, and they will tell themselves that they are better than I am. They will tell themselves that I am not as successful as they are. They will tell themselves that I am not as good as they are. They will reassure themselves that who they are is normal and OK, by proving to themselves that I am neither.
I am Different...But I am Not Less. I am exactly who I am called into being. And so are "they." And so are you. Each one of us, for me, is an individual and unique tree, standing next to each other, providing safety and shelter for the world around us.
Today, let's not be fools, let's not make each other less.
Today, let's see the beautiful trees for the forest.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
I will tell you right now that I HATE April Fools Day!
This is due in large part to my status as an individual on the autism spectrum. As an Aspie, I do not like change. As a matter of fact I thrive on routine, knowing what is coming next and who and what situation I will need to deal with. I do not care for surprises. I get annoyed when my plans, however basic they may be, get interrupted by regular everyday things. It's worse when it's something others knew about and neglected to share with me in advance.
But I also have a problem with being incredibly literalistic. Let me give you an example that you will find humorous, and that I will pretend to see the humor value in.
There is a common American expression "Making Ends Meet" that refers to financial matters. This idiom effectively means that someone is earning enough money to pay all the bills, but barely. There is an underlying statement of narrowly avoiding poverty.
But as an Aspie, this is how I interpreted the phrase, "Making Ends Meat" i.e. the cheaper, rounded, sealed in something end of the bologna, because one did not have enough money to purchase the good cuts of deli meat. In my mind, whenever I hear that phrase, even today, I see the curling up beige hunk of meat in deli paper sitting in the ancient avocado green fridge in my childhood home. We were always making ends meet, and therefore could only afford the ends of the meat.
Sorry for the digression, however I believe it illustrates why I have a problem with April Fools Day. I cannot distinguish between joke and real. I remember in the movie Temple Grandin, Claire Danes saying a line in the high school French class, asking why there were so many "eels" in French. She meant the word "ils" a pronoun for his/hers, but due to pronunciation she heard "eels" and as a visual thinker saw underwater snakes swimming before her eyes. I understand this problem, though I never dealt with marine life in foreign language lessons, I too often see the literal and miss the nuance.
Another common expression talks about not being able to see the forest for the trees. Aspies are intrinsically tuned into details. Every detail. All the time. I see every tree there is to see and in fact have little or no conception that there even is a forest. I do mean this literally. I live in a very wooded area and all I can see around me are a variety of individual trees. Each one is unique. Each one is distinct. Each one is mathematically discrete. I have been to state parks, national parks, and the like and all I ever see is a series of trees standing next to each other.
Of course, I have learned that this idiom really means not getting caught up in the details of something and missing the bigger picture. I'm not sure that as an Aspie I have that ability. I'm not sure what the bigger picture is. My bigger picture is mostly limited to the here and now. And perhaps, this is because I see everything all at once. My sensory input is so overwhelmed by the ability to recognize every image, sound, scent, temperature, taste, and feeling occurring at any given moment that my brain is forced to selectively condense the bigger picture to a manageable size. I am left with what appears to others as a tunnel like narrowness, because I cannot see the larger issues or outcomes.
And so, today, April Fools Day, I will wait for the pranks, I will wait for the unknown, I will live in an elevated state of fear. But it will not be unlike any other day. It is the intent that is different today. There will be those seeking a laugh at another's expense today. Yet there are those who seek this of me every day.
I am different. And those who fear difference and diversity will look to compare themselves to me. They will look to my Aspie, to my Intersex, to my Transgender, to my Stay-at-Home Dad status, and they will tell themselves that they are better than I am. They will tell themselves that I am not as successful as they are. They will tell themselves that I am not as good as they are. They will reassure themselves that who they are is normal and OK, by proving to themselves that I am neither.
I am Different...But I am Not Less. I am exactly who I am called into being. And so are "they." And so are you. Each one of us, for me, is an individual and unique tree, standing next to each other, providing safety and shelter for the world around us.
Today, let's not be fools, let's not make each other less.
Today, let's see the beautiful trees for the forest.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Introductions
Hi, and welcome to my blog.
My name is Ari, and I am a transman living in the Western Foothills of Maine. I am actually an individual with an intersex condition, Late Onset Hyperplasia, but chose to have surgeries and treatments in order to live as a male. I am married to a woman, and we are raising 2 sons. There are a million and one details I could share about all of this, and I will over time, however I believe that we should get to know each other better before I reveal all of the mystery!
I have also been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, ADD, and Anxiety. I call it the "Triple A (AAA)" of mental illness, and I get a free tow to a clinic if I have a mental breakdown. (It's a joke, and yes it's ok to laugh!)
My main career is as a stay-at-home dad, but I supplement that incredible income with speaking engagements, membership on a statewide board, grant work, consulting, and other miscellaneous activities, not limited to begging unsuspecting family members for groceries.
I earned a Master's Degree in Theology with a concentration in Ethics in 2007 as the first openly transgender graduate of that seminary. I also have a BA in English and Music, and I have an AS in Accounting. I'd love to pursue a PhD, but in what???
So far, all of these degrees have netted me over $86,000 in student loans and a belief that I am incredibly unable to be hired. Realistically, my Asperger's, ADD, and Anxiety are the real culprits for my inability to stay employed. Many folks have advised me to seek disability, while just as many have told me not to do so.
Honestly, I haven't been able to decide. I love the opportunities I have to share my story with others while maintaining a reasonably "normal" home life with my kids. Unfortunately, that doesn't pay the bills, and the loans live in my subconscious like the monsters that used to live in my closet when I was a child.
So, what else is there to my introduction? I'm an extrovert trapped in an Aspie body. I love playing skeeball. If I could live anywhere in the world it would be in a house right on the ocean. I used to live in such an arrangement and after 14 years of mountains and lakes I have yet to adjust.
I miss the water, I miss the salt, I miss the rocks, I miss the endless horizon where I felt G-d at all times.
Oh, and why am I calling this "The Transitioning Yesod"? Well, for one as an intersex/transman I have been and will always be "transitioning" from one perceived gender identity to another. I am also someone who was raised in both the United Church of Christ, UCC and in Conservative/Orthodox Judaism. So I see myself as continually transitioning between the Judaism at my core and the Christianity that I am surrounded by in the form of my family and community. And yes, "yesod" is a Hebrew word meaning "foundation or core" and is a part of the Kabbalah Tree of Life which represents a consciousness with both the spiritual world and the physical world we live in.
There is so much more I want to share with you about my journey, and what I hope to accomplish in this life. But for now, I must attend to the world that I am in, and make sure that no one loses an appendage to the borrowed wood chipper on my lawn. Trust me, the only de-limbing I want done today is of trees, not children or a helpful spouse!
Thank you for visiting with me and I look forward to our next encounter.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and be sure that you actually love yourself.
-Ari
My name is Ari, and I am a transman living in the Western Foothills of Maine. I am actually an individual with an intersex condition, Late Onset Hyperplasia, but chose to have surgeries and treatments in order to live as a male. I am married to a woman, and we are raising 2 sons. There are a million and one details I could share about all of this, and I will over time, however I believe that we should get to know each other better before I reveal all of the mystery!
I have also been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, ADD, and Anxiety. I call it the "Triple A (AAA)" of mental illness, and I get a free tow to a clinic if I have a mental breakdown. (It's a joke, and yes it's ok to laugh!)
My main career is as a stay-at-home dad, but I supplement that incredible income with speaking engagements, membership on a statewide board, grant work, consulting, and other miscellaneous activities, not limited to begging unsuspecting family members for groceries.
I earned a Master's Degree in Theology with a concentration in Ethics in 2007 as the first openly transgender graduate of that seminary. I also have a BA in English and Music, and I have an AS in Accounting. I'd love to pursue a PhD, but in what???
So far, all of these degrees have netted me over $86,000 in student loans and a belief that I am incredibly unable to be hired. Realistically, my Asperger's, ADD, and Anxiety are the real culprits for my inability to stay employed. Many folks have advised me to seek disability, while just as many have told me not to do so.
Honestly, I haven't been able to decide. I love the opportunities I have to share my story with others while maintaining a reasonably "normal" home life with my kids. Unfortunately, that doesn't pay the bills, and the loans live in my subconscious like the monsters that used to live in my closet when I was a child.
So, what else is there to my introduction? I'm an extrovert trapped in an Aspie body. I love playing skeeball. If I could live anywhere in the world it would be in a house right on the ocean. I used to live in such an arrangement and after 14 years of mountains and lakes I have yet to adjust.
I miss the water, I miss the salt, I miss the rocks, I miss the endless horizon where I felt G-d at all times.
Oh, and why am I calling this "The Transitioning Yesod"? Well, for one as an intersex/transman I have been and will always be "transitioning" from one perceived gender identity to another. I am also someone who was raised in both the United Church of Christ, UCC and in Conservative/Orthodox Judaism. So I see myself as continually transitioning between the Judaism at my core and the Christianity that I am surrounded by in the form of my family and community. And yes, "yesod" is a Hebrew word meaning "foundation or core" and is a part of the Kabbalah Tree of Life which represents a consciousness with both the spiritual world and the physical world we live in.
There is so much more I want to share with you about my journey, and what I hope to accomplish in this life. But for now, I must attend to the world that I am in, and make sure that no one loses an appendage to the borrowed wood chipper on my lawn. Trust me, the only de-limbing I want done today is of trees, not children or a helpful spouse!
Thank you for visiting with me and I look forward to our next encounter.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and be sure that you actually love yourself.
-Ari
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