I have been reflecting lately on two very different periods of my life. I had a long stretch in which I felt dissatisfied with a lot of what was happening. I was working in toxic environments, I was in bad relationships, and I felt unsafe in my neighborhood. Notice that I am using the word happiness as a measure of my life and whether or not I was feeling it. This is very deliberate as I want to avoid the impression that I was depressed during this period. I was not achieving my goals and I saw that it would be a long time before I would make any progress.
I tied a lot of things to get out of this rut including watching inspiring movies like the Will Smith movie I am referencing in the title. Self help books like the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People gave me some pointers. I underwent counseling and seriously considered the advice I was being given. In addition I talked with my older sister and changed relationships and careers. It was not the sort of thing I could do overnight. I almost forgot one tool from the mental health field which was the Wellness Recovery Action Plan. I wrote and revised my plan several times before bidding it farewell a couple of years ago.
On the Hidden Brain podcast a few months ago there was a story about how people ruminate or continue to think about their past decisions. I also go through this process of thinking about what I have done and wondering what I might have done differently. And I also learned that as time passes, you have to let go of what might have been and move ahead with what has happened.
The surprising result of this effort is that I feel happier than ever. I can think back to things that happened and how they improved my life. And I improved the lives of people I met along the way. That is the person I have become and I hope there will be greater happiness in the future.
I just told a story to my sister from a long time ago which I have clung to as an example of being mistreated and patronized. But listening to her reaction I realize I may misjudged the person who I thought was misusing me. I have learned over the years that my memories are often faulty and I erased certain things that did not fit my perspective. For example I tell people that we moved from an all black neighborhood to an all white one just 8 blocks away. In reality our next door neighbors were a white couple including a man who drove a truck for the bakery around the corner. My sister, who is six years older than me, remembers that I broke a window in our neighbor’s house and mom made me go over and apologize. Mom paid for the window and after that we had a wonderful relationship.
However things did not go as smoothly with me. Perhaps it was due my personality as I was introverted and I would sometimes lash out at people. One of my hobbies was playing baseball and listening to the games on the radio. The top player at that time was Willie Mays. Well, as luck would have it, our neighbor would ask me about Willie Mays whenever he saw me. One day I told him that there was more to me than Willie Mays. I don’t recall that the man said another word to me. Looking at it from the man’s perspective, Chris that that was how men related to other people. Especially boys. I could have told him a little bit more about me that he could use to talk about. Instead I shut off communication.
This brief story suggests that there might be a value in looking at a situation from the standpoint of the other person and wonder what they are thinking of me as we interact. Am I communicating what I hope to be saying or are they hearing something very different from me? What do you think?
I am very introverted which becomes clear once you begin to know me. This means I am more comfortable socializing in small groups with people that I know in than with a roomful of strangers. My nickname is Spiderman which is appropriate because I am often in a corner reserving my energy. I am also facing the reality that many people I see are younger than me. This was especially true at the General Assembly, our annual meeting of the Unitarian Universalist Association. A lot of efforts were made to bring teens and young adults who were active as speakers and presenters. So it made for a much different conference than a lot of people were used to seeing.
The General Assembly is where we vote for the president, who serves a 6 year term. We also have elections for the board and several other positions. The plenary sessions include many statements of public witness where we state our values about issues. Unitarian Universalists tend to be highly educated and opinionated. And we like to study issues. We commemorated an earlier public witness by reading in unison a resolution that had passed 25 or 30 years ago. I dropped out after about 5 minutes of this. The entire thing took about 15 minutes. I guess we have a lot of people who go swimming to build up their energy before the convention.
At the plenary sessions there were seats reserved for the youth which surprised some adults who were used to sitting wherever they chose. In addition there were discussions and meeting spaces set aside for people of color and some of my friends were assigned to tell their white brethren that they needed to respect the boundary.
As for my boundaries I often sat near the back of the hall during sessions. Some of my Milwaukee friends chose to sit with me which was helpful. I took pictures of friends and sometimes went to restaurants by myself or with a friend. One veteran of General Assembly said we should pace ourselves because we will be exhausted by the effort of attempting to attend as many meetings as possible. The convention center layout contributed to this exhaustion because there were rooms hidden away at the end of long hallways. At first I enjoyed the high step counts I was getting on my phone but I learned to sit down and sometimes invite a friend over to talk with me.
I enjoyed the small group discussions where I was able to ask a few questions about some of the controversies that had arisen. One issue was the fact a couple of people retired from the jobs with the Unitarian Universalist Association and received large sums of money before the interim presidents were appointed. I asked about what changes had been made to ensure nothing like that would ever happen again. I also paid close attention when the Black Lives Matter group was talking about their plans and accomplishments. I felt it was a could time to absorb and understand as much as possible.
I was amazed by the variety of African-Americans I saw because I had never seen more than a handful of us at the First Unitarian Society. Even the videos of the Black Lives Matter event this spring had not really prepared me for this. I was excited and also wished I had been at the earlier event. There might be regional discussions and there is a retreat scheduled for this fall. My next step will be to open up and begin suggesting some activities for our Black Lives Matter Collaborative.
Nor was I cooked and eaten by hungry people. What I was asked how our Black lives matter meeting went, that was my response. One and one half days have passed and I am still alive. We have begun the trip and are fairly civilized. The group includes people who are fairly active in matters of racial justice and me. For me, racial justice lately has been the ability to earn a living without fear of eviction and having the same benefits as my co-workers. For people who don’t know, being a peer support specialist is my fourth or fifth career and it is the one the has lasted the longest. I have been a librarian, a cooperative developer, a grant writer and a day care worker. Since those other careers faded away, one can conclude that either I was not especially skilled or I am better suited for what I am doing now. These jobs sometimes paid decent money but unfortunately did not last more than a few years.
Peer support has often been a low paying career in which I had to fight to earn a living wage. I am wearing the first pair of glasses ever bought with company provided vision benefits. Either my previous jobs didn’t have vision benefits or I didn’t use them. Making my life matter meant a lot of pain and struggle to survive. There was also a lot of acting out and fairly embarrassing behavior that ruined relationships. My current life is the most stable I have felt for a long time.
I now feel as though I have something to offer such as the value of my experience. I know what it means to feel ashamed that you need to depend on your family for support well into adulthood. I know about having your payroll check bounce. I know what bad and good employers are like. These are all things I bring to the struggle to making black lives matter in Milwaukee. I was the only African-American at the table for our first meeting at the First Unitarian Society, a situation I hope to change. I hope to venture out and become a part of some of the struggles my fellow members have been involved with and make a difference. I will share my vision, now that it is clear what I can see.
In another step towards changing over from being an ad hoc “cabal” to a formal committee I asked for and received the names and contact information of the people who have been a part of the group. I was pleasantly surprised that there were about a dozen people. This is a testimony to Mary’s organizational skills. While she may seem like one of those flaky white liberals just running around doing thins, the fact is she helped create some pretty impressive events. The question is, what to do with all of the energy that she has helped create? Where does it go?
I will be busy sending out an email informing people of the changeover and and finding a date for our first meeting. Next week I will be attending the my first meeting of the social justice council as the chair of the new black lives committee. Once more into the breach.
I called home a few minutes ago to my a request about a holiday gift that would have meaning. None of the junk that they push in the ads that began when I was visiting at Thanksgiving would make any difference. And then I thought about the quilt that had been on the bed when I visited and mentioned it to my sweetheart. Having heard a dozen stories about my mother, she exclaimed, is there anything your mother couldn’t do?
Not much, apparently. Today, she fired up the snow blower and went up and down the street clearing snow. Then she drove to the drug store to pick up medication for her and my sister. My sister told me that mom gets these bits of fabric that had sewn together by her grandmother and makes them into a quilt. she is very much her grandmother’s child. She was one of those who would be sitting and listening to her grandmother how to do certain things and then she set out to do them. My mother is very small; she was barely 5 feet one inches tall when I was younger and she shrank due to osteoporosis. Because of her small size, she was useful working in the defense plant crawling into the cockpit of fighter planes during World War 2.
Another job that I never knew about was driving a cab part-time after we had moved into our house. My mother has also worked in every area of nursing imaginable.
So I am hoping I will look up in a couple of weeks and find a big box from the post office filled with my mother’s love and a quilt that began way before I was born. I will use the quilt to sleep under with the woman I love and that will be this christmas.
In every household there is at least one person who is assigned to rid the place of cridders. The might include mice, spiders, snakes critters and ants. Things that might lessen the enjoyment of one’s home. Oddly the same system applies to offices. Someone will catch these pests while one or more are hiding under their desks or barricaded in the bathroom.
At our office there is a tall woman named Earlene who is about 6 feet tall and men enjoy it as she towers over them. But when it comes to spiders, yours truly has to rescue her from distress. I imagine she consumes energy drinks at home and takes self defense classes. If only the spiders knew.
When I was growing up my mother would kill the occasional pest that dared to enter our home. It would be dispatched with a work boot or a broom. Word traveled fast around the mouse world that we meant business.
But it was a different story with local hippies Emma and Tim. One day I visited them looking for humus and sex and wouldn’t you know there was their cat Fidel carrying a trophy: a small mouse. Well, Emma bounded across the room to try and save the mouse.
Little did Emma know I had worked out a deal with Fidel that I would pretend to release the mouse only to returnwith it. The mouse went on to it’s just desserts and I earned the undying gratitude of Fidel. To this day, I have a good relationship with cats. When you have tasty mice, cats will purr. It’s all part of natural selection.