Imagine walking into a government building. The stuffiness of hundreds of bodies around you waiting and waiting and waiting to be served. You walk to the front desk, grab a number, 345. Suddenly 295 is called. This is going to be a long day. As you sit and sit and wait and wait and wait you hope this time, maybe just this time, you will get what you deserve. You have gotten all your paperwork filled out properly. You made sure everything was in order, you didn't miss a beat. There was no way they could turn you around this time. They can't, not after the hours you have poured into this.
315. Your palms sweat just a little bit. Why are you nervous? There is nothing to this. This isn't some big test. This isn't the doctors, there is nothing wrong. But why the sweaty palms?
328. Closer, ever more closer to getting this whole ordeal out of the way. If you are denied, it will be the end of it. This is the 5th time you've tried, and if it is yet another loud "No" then there really is no chance of changing anyone's mind. It is always a different time, a different day, a different person, but the same answer.
344. Next up. Anxiety takes hold, what will the next 10 minutes or so mean? Will you walk away overjoyed or frustrated or angry? Will your emotions get the better of you and make you cause a scene. Will the hours of work you poured into this be shot down by some careless and heartless government employee? Or will you get what you deserve? You were always taught, work hard and you will be rewarded. You've never asked for much in life, why shouldn't you deserve this one request?
345.
You walk slowly up to the open counter, number 18. The lady sitting behind seems nice enough, if not a little disinterested. She takes your papers, gives a casual smile then looks everything over. Page by page she slowly reads, checks the documentation. She sees that every line is signed. Everything is in good order. The recommendations are there. She looks up as if to signal, yes, you are approved. She starts to grab her pen to sign the approval form. You heart begins to race. This is it. You are finally gonna make it. As her hand lazily moves back to the paper, she stops midway. Dread creeps in as she seems to realize something and the hand reverses course and replaces the pen. It then swiftly grasps a big rubber stamp and in one quick motion red lettering is branded right on top of the application.
DENIED
How? Why? You stammer out the question almost immediately, hoping for some explanation. Was it one line you forgot to sign? That can be fixed in a heartbeat. Was it one of the documents you provided? That can also be fixed in a few mere days. The recommendations, well those could take a little more time if they weren't up to "par" but after 4 attempts before you knew they were good. But it was fixable. No, the reason she gave was something out of your control. Your chance at some happiness had been denied because of something you had no say in. It wasn't because you were a woman or a man. It wasn't because you were Latino or Black. No, the government had laws protecting discrimination based on gender and race. It was because you were gay.
Should you lie, pretend to be straight just to get approved? It would be easy, but it would be a lie, and it would be conforming to what some narrow minded people in this world want you to do: be like them.
There is a serious issue in this nation that is just as important as Woman's Suffrage and the Civil Rights movement before it. Gays are not viewed as equal under the laws of our country. And yet no one seems to care. Thousands of men and women want the happiness that others can experience. They want the same rights as those around them. Yet the are ignored, called nasty things, and shot down time and time again. The nation founded on inequality, that fought wars for equal rights, and staged hundreds of protests for racial discrimination, is doing nothing for the LGBT community. Gay marriage is not an attack on religion. It is a right to every citizen in our country. And to disallow it is to attack our nation's very citizens. To discriminate when discrimination is illegal. To segregate when segregation is illegal.
If you are a citizen of the US, it is your responsibility to fight for equality for all, not just a select few in our nation. We were all lucky to come to this land, so why should others enjoy it more?
Watch This
27.11.11
20.11.11
Ms. Steaks
I don't know what is necessarily the right decision to make. I don't know if I should take option one, or defer to option two. But then option three comes along and throws things for a loop.
People always seem to have such high expectations for me. No, I am not talking about doing well professionally, being the "best I can be." Well, maybe I am. Deep down that ends up being the wishes of others with their expectations of me. And no one means wrong. And in no way am I saying I have feel overcome with pressure to perform to peoples expectations. I do feel the pressure, but I know and understand that most of it is internal - and that is healthy. It is a good drive that keeps me going, makes me progress, and moves me forward. People always say I am a leader and pioneer, and I think it comes from this drive to perform to expectations.
But a leader will, and should be able to make mistakes. And when I say leader, I don't mean when I am in a position where others necessarily look to me for direction. Even in leading my own life, where others look at me merely to observe and not follow, I will lead. And I will make mistakes. Those mistakes may come at great or small costs, and costs that affect me alone or others around me. But I will make them. Yet I seem to try and minimize my mistakes, and not in a good way. We all don't want to make mistakes. But when the fear of messing up begins to limit you there is a problem. I have started to feel affected by my own fear of doing something wrong. It limits me to a degree in how I enjoy life. I don't sit here consumed by my fears of making a mistake, but I know I am missing chances to see and experience new things. Be it a new relationship, a new trip, a new opportunity, whatever.
So here is my response to it all:
I am imperfect. I will hurt you, I will disappoint you. I will make mistakes. But from all that I will become something special. I will grow and develop into the person I was meant to be. What that is, I don't know. But I do know 40 years down the road I don't want to look back on my life and see a string of safe decisions that came at the cost of excitement, newness, and change.
People always seem to have such high expectations for me. No, I am not talking about doing well professionally, being the "best I can be." Well, maybe I am. Deep down that ends up being the wishes of others with their expectations of me. And no one means wrong. And in no way am I saying I have feel overcome with pressure to perform to peoples expectations. I do feel the pressure, but I know and understand that most of it is internal - and that is healthy. It is a good drive that keeps me going, makes me progress, and moves me forward. People always say I am a leader and pioneer, and I think it comes from this drive to perform to expectations.
But a leader will, and should be able to make mistakes. And when I say leader, I don't mean when I am in a position where others necessarily look to me for direction. Even in leading my own life, where others look at me merely to observe and not follow, I will lead. And I will make mistakes. Those mistakes may come at great or small costs, and costs that affect me alone or others around me. But I will make them. Yet I seem to try and minimize my mistakes, and not in a good way. We all don't want to make mistakes. But when the fear of messing up begins to limit you there is a problem. I have started to feel affected by my own fear of doing something wrong. It limits me to a degree in how I enjoy life. I don't sit here consumed by my fears of making a mistake, but I know I am missing chances to see and experience new things. Be it a new relationship, a new trip, a new opportunity, whatever.
So here is my response to it all:
I am imperfect. I will hurt you, I will disappoint you. I will make mistakes. But from all that I will become something special. I will grow and develop into the person I was meant to be. What that is, I don't know. But I do know 40 years down the road I don't want to look back on my life and see a string of safe decisions that came at the cost of excitement, newness, and change.
1.11.11
One By One
Public humiliation is the worst. I hate being embarrassed in front of others. That sinking feeling in your stomach, the knots that form in your throat. The quick glances you throw around the room trying to see who is staring at you.
Just yesterday on my way home from work I ran into such a moment. After waiting 45 minutes for a metro train to come (who knows why during rush hour it took that long) I precede to wait 25 minutes on a bus in Columbia Heights. I am already running late from the metro, I have a long drive ahead in traffic and I didn't just spend $1.50 to waste another 20 minutes of my life. Hell, I could have walked to Mt. Pleasant in the time it took for me to take the bus. Why? Because some woman's motorized scooter was stuck on the bus and she couldn't get off. I got angry pretty fast, mainly because she seemed like she could have walked all the way to Alexandria and been just fine. So we sat and sat while the bus driver (who was flamingly gay) tried and tried to release the scooter from its strap. We waited so long that another H4 bus arrived, the one that was supposedly 30 minutes behind. At this point a few frustrated passengers had already gotten off and started walking. I wasn't going to waste my $1.50. Okay, it was really only a buck since I had transferred from the Metro, but still...
Anyways, she sat there looking around at us all. Then one by one we all jumped up and got off to get on the one that had just arrived, leaving her alone with the bus driver. How embarrassing. Is it not already humiliating enough that she had a scooter in the first place and couldn't walk properly? No, now she had to completely stop a bus and affect 20 or so commuter's schedules. And then she had to watch us all get off the bus and go on our way while she was stuck.
And none of it was her fault. Okay, she could have watched her eating and kept herself from being so overweight. And maybe she should know that her scooter needs to be tied down another way and should have mentioned it to the bus driver. But those points are irrelevant. What is relevant is my reaction to the situation. My frustration boiled and I channeled my anger towards a woman I didn't even know. The eyes of hers that darted around the room looking for people upset we in response to me. Is she a jerk for delaying me by 20 minutes? No, I am the asshole for casting judgement. The realization hit me like a brick wall as we drove away and I glanced to my left and saw her sitting in the empty bus. Alone.
Being alone is one of my biggest fears. I don't need to be around people 24/7. I can actually be a recluse. But the threat of abandonment and the humiliation that comes with it affects me most. So I empathize with her. And I sure hope she got off that bus.
But seriously, she will be ok. She got home and awoke this morning to the brisk air slowly being warmed by the warm sunrise casting long amber and gold colors across the sky. It was a new day, and she was alright. Tomorrow is a new day. And I will be alright.
Just yesterday on my way home from work I ran into such a moment. After waiting 45 minutes for a metro train to come (who knows why during rush hour it took that long) I precede to wait 25 minutes on a bus in Columbia Heights. I am already running late from the metro, I have a long drive ahead in traffic and I didn't just spend $1.50 to waste another 20 minutes of my life. Hell, I could have walked to Mt. Pleasant in the time it took for me to take the bus. Why? Because some woman's motorized scooter was stuck on the bus and she couldn't get off. I got angry pretty fast, mainly because she seemed like she could have walked all the way to Alexandria and been just fine. So we sat and sat while the bus driver (who was flamingly gay) tried and tried to release the scooter from its strap. We waited so long that another H4 bus arrived, the one that was supposedly 30 minutes behind. At this point a few frustrated passengers had already gotten off and started walking. I wasn't going to waste my $1.50. Okay, it was really only a buck since I had transferred from the Metro, but still...
Anyways, she sat there looking around at us all. Then one by one we all jumped up and got off to get on the one that had just arrived, leaving her alone with the bus driver. How embarrassing. Is it not already humiliating enough that she had a scooter in the first place and couldn't walk properly? No, now she had to completely stop a bus and affect 20 or so commuter's schedules. And then she had to watch us all get off the bus and go on our way while she was stuck.
And none of it was her fault. Okay, she could have watched her eating and kept herself from being so overweight. And maybe she should know that her scooter needs to be tied down another way and should have mentioned it to the bus driver. But those points are irrelevant. What is relevant is my reaction to the situation. My frustration boiled and I channeled my anger towards a woman I didn't even know. The eyes of hers that darted around the room looking for people upset we in response to me. Is she a jerk for delaying me by 20 minutes? No, I am the asshole for casting judgement. The realization hit me like a brick wall as we drove away and I glanced to my left and saw her sitting in the empty bus. Alone.
Being alone is one of my biggest fears. I don't need to be around people 24/7. I can actually be a recluse. But the threat of abandonment and the humiliation that comes with it affects me most. So I empathize with her. And I sure hope she got off that bus.
But seriously, she will be ok. She got home and awoke this morning to the brisk air slowly being warmed by the warm sunrise casting long amber and gold colors across the sky. It was a new day, and she was alright. Tomorrow is a new day. And I will be alright.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)