"I'm strong, not because I want to be, but because I have to be." In a rare moment of vulnerability, I shared this insight about myself with a male colleague. There had been some issues between us because he wasn't comfortable with my "strong personality". Most of the time, when I meet a man under any circumstance, we get along well, until we're thrown into a situation where we may have to demonstrate competence or achievement; then, I usually hear that my personality is "too strong", or that I'm trying to "take charge" or "take over", and my relationship with that man becomes strained. In those situations, I usually stand out, not because I'm better than anyone, but because my mother taught me, through her life, to work harder than anyone, to do everything to the best of my ability, and to push myself to be better. My mother was not allowed to go to school, so she does not know how to read or write. I remember asking her as she walked me to my class during one of my first few days of school (at least I think I said this): "Mami, why do I have to go to school? You didn't go to school, and you're okay." However, I also vividly recall walking towards my home in the housing projects in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in the first grade or so, and thinking, "I have to do well in school, so I don't have to live here for the rest of my life." This is where I gave birth to my so-called "strong personality".
My "strong personality" developed as I grew up. Puberty hit me early, and hard. At the age of nine I had to slam our apartment door in the faces of teenage boys who would knock on the door to tell me they loved me, and at the age of twelve I had to curse out grown men who catcalled as I walked by. My "strong personality" was tested every day in the sixth grade when I was chased by boys after school who thought it was cute to grab my butt; who equated sexual assault with puppy love.
My "strong personality" evolved during my first weekend in college, when my friends and I were standing on the sidewalk trying to decide what our next adventure would be, and we were called "nigger girls". It was that first vivid experience with racism that led me to learn about my cultural identity and eventually shaped my career path as well as my activist spirit.
My "strong personality" almost died when my husband said he wanted a divorce. And yet, my "strong personality" did not die; it demonstrated its resilience by immediately driving me to get my Master's degree, find a place to live, a job (that provided me that place to live), and buy my own car, 350 miles from everyone I knew and loved.
My "strong personality" developed its assertive nature when I was repeatedly belittled and sexually harassed by a supervisor until I eventually stood up to him, ending the abuse.
My "strong personality" took me through the interview process for the only job I'd applied for while I was doing an internship, a graduate assistantship, studying for the National Counselor Exam, and writing an 80 page Master's thesis. And my "strong personality" got that job.
My "strong personality" taught me to step outside of my comfort zone and help develop a women's leadership program when I neither considered myself a leader or an expert on "women's issues" (as if living all of the above experiences didn't make me an expert).
My "strong personality" continues to grow as I take care of all of my needs, clean my own home, pay all of my own bills, suffer the consequences of my own poor decisions, struggle with every life decision, and try to be the best daughter I can be (from so far away), the best counselor, the best role model for the ladies in the leadership program, the best "second mom" to my students, the best, best, best of what I need to be for me and everyone else in my sphere of influence.
I'm not strong because I want to be. I want to be taken care of sometimes. I want someone to ask me what I need sometimes, and I don't always want to be the person who people come to only when they need something. I want men to stop blaming me and my "strong personality" for their own insecurities. I want men to take responsibility for their own actions, and not expect me to let them get away with being less than the best person they can be. I want men to stop acting as if I'm supposed to accommodate them and "adjust" to them, when they won't do so for me (and yes, I've been told this by a few men). I want to hear the words "I'm sorry" come from more men's mouths when they know they're wrong. I want to know that, when my moments of weakness come (and they often do), there will be someone there who can, and wants to, hold me up and allow me to lean on him without feeling like I'm "draining" him. And I want men to be vulnerable enough to tell me when they need me to be strong, and not feel like I'm "intimidating" because I am capable of being strong for myself and everyone else around me.
I'm not strong because I want to be. I'm strong because I have to be. And I cannot wait until the day I don't always have to be strong anymore.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
40 Lessons for a Fab Life
I'd been thinking about turning forty since my 39th birthday. Literally every day I thought about this particular milestone. Poor 39th year. It never had a chance.
About a month ago, I was seriously having a mid-life crisis. I hope I live longer than eighty, but I can't think of any other concept that matches what I was feeling more than "mid-life crisis". I called one of my friends and told her, "I feel like nothing I'm doing means anything." She was like, "Are you serious?" This is because she's cool, calm, collected, and doesn't put up with my dramatics. Truthfully, she's great at listening to my angst-ridden reflections, but she's not quite the drama queen that I can sometimes be. (Sometimes.) I also met up with an old (not in age) friend who'd just turned forty earlier in the year and had this same conversation. Both of them made it clear that the crisis does not last; with phrases like, "It is what it is", and "I don't give a flying kite about anything", they made it seem like forty is when worrying lessens, life gets a bit less serious and a bit more peaceful and enjoyable.
I figured, though, that some of the lessons I've learned over time should be documented for posterity. You know, for those who want a road map or cheat sheet on their way to forty.
1. Stop spending time worrying about how you look, because in reality, everyone else is too busy worrying about how they look to pay that much attention to you.
2. If you like someone, just tell that person. The worst that can happen is that they laugh in your face. I laughed in someone's face when he said he liked me, and I ended up marrying him. We got divorced a few years later (minor details).
3. Take your foot off the gas pedal when you want to slow down. Don't put your foot on the brake. You'll mess your car up that way. I don't know how exactly, but I'm pretty sure I'm right.
4. Mistakes won't kill you. They'll make you humble.
5. Strive for excellence, not perfection. We just can't be perfect. Plus, no one really likes perfect people.
6. Working out really does relieve stress. Just don't spend a lot of money on a gym that's completely out of the way of any other place you go. Makes no sense. Take it from me.
7. When you go work out, don't take your phone with you. Turn it off whenever you can. At school, at church, at the gym. These are places where you feed your mind, spirit, and body. No one needs to interfere with that.
8. Put your general doctor's, gynecologist's, dentist's, eye doctor's, and mechanic's numbers in your phone. And the number to one good pizza place, and one good restaurant that makes your favorite pasta dish. You never know.
9. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT break up with someone when you're experiencing PMS. You might possibly change your mind.
10. Go to sleep when you're tired. Your mind doesn't work when it's tired.
11. Make sure your house and work place are stocked with some form of chocolate.
12. Wine.
13. No matter how much your mother or father piss you off, for whatever reason, don't stop talking to them. They may regret how they've acted (or not acted) towards you, but you don't want to live with regret because you left things unsaid.
14. Floss. Plaque can kill.
15. Demand an HIV test with documentation. You think plaque kills? Try AIDS.
16. Carry some kind of antibacterial thing for your hands. People do not wash their hands after they use the bathroom.
17. Just in case you're one of those people, wash your hands after using the bathroom.
18. Put your hair up or wrap it if you're going to cook for others. I don't care if your hair is clean, I don't want to eat it.
19. Walk on the right side. Especially when you're walking up or down NYC subway stairs.
20. Half way there...Reward yourself with a glass of wine.
21. Indulge. It puts a smile on your face, and sometimes a nice memory.
22. Don't worry about hurting a guy's feelings. It will remind him that he has them.
23. Get up right now. Go to the mirror. Say, "You are just too sexy", or some variation on that, while sticking your butt out with your hand on your hip.
24. Smile when you're putting blush on.
25. Go somewhere by yourself. The movies, Starbucks, Disney World. It will force you to spend time with yourself and appreciate who you are.
26. No lipstick when you're kissing a man. They do not want that taste. They want you.
27. You don't always have to match your clothes perfectly.
28. However, you should match your wine and food. Cupcake Red Velvet Wine and a Chocolate Merlot cupcake match perfectly.
29. If you're bored, it's because you're not requiring enough of yourself. Raise your expectations for yourself.
30. Expectations. You can have them for yourself, not so much for others.
31. Do what you love, even if you can't do it for a living. Even if it's writing a blog post about once a month.
32. Encourage others to do what they love. They will love you for it.
33. Don't compete with anyone but yourself.
34. You're smarter than you think you are.
35. You're smarter than they might think you are.
36. Open your heart so that everyone can see just how beautiful you really are.
37. Open your (spiritual) eyes and ears so that you see and hear what God wants to show and tell you.
38. Stop being so angry. It makes you ugly.
39. Work through your pain. It will make you a better person, and you will love yourself more.
40. LOVE. The noun and the verb. Life will feel so much more real and you will feel connected to everything in this universe.
And an extra for good measure:
BELIEVE.
And stop to taste the wine.
Love, Trish
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Who You Callin' A B*tch?
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| Appropriate for female dogs. Not for women. |
This has been an interesting week in the world of Facebook. Every once in a while certain posts catch my attention, in both positive and negative ways. Sometimes, I find empowering posts by women for women, such as this one:
This photo contained a story about a sign posted at a gym with a picture of a thin woman. The caption read, "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?" The post went on to tell the story about how wonderful whales are; they are surrounded by friends, sing beautifully, and are dearly loved, while mermaids do not exist. At the end of the post, the writer states: "We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated." I thought the french model pictured above was beautiful, and I loved the story, so I posted it to my Facebook wall. Since it received mostly positive feedback, I thought it was empowering to women.
On the other hand, I saw some other posts that disturbed me. Now, some of these posts were by people I'm friends with on Facebook, so I've removed their names, because I'm not attempting to debate these particular people; I just question their posts.
This week, Apple icon Steve Jobs died. He was a positive person who followed his dream, and in the process he changed technology in ways that people truly appreciated. There were several Steve Jobs quotes circulating the social networks this week, and it was obvious that many people personally felt affected by this great loss to the field of technology. Take this person's post for example:
"Im not gonna name them out but some ppl are flat out fffing stupid!!! ..... so she says.... "I'm sad that I there won't be any new ipod versions...but at least I have the latest ipod."..... Really!!! WTF!!! SMH!!!.....Rest in peace and rest assured Steve Jobs...your legacy is rock solid and yes there will [be] newer versions of the Ipod...what a stupid bitch!!!"Obviously, this person was deeply affected by the loss of Steve Jobs, and the post, I'm sure, was meant to portray his respect and admiration for the iconic figure. However, regardless whether he was upset at the loss or just woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, was it necessary to call the woman he refers to a "stupid bitch"? I mean, the woman who thought there would never be new versions of the Ipod obviously wasn't a brain surgeon, but I'm not quite sure what it was about her post that made her a bitch. I remember reading that and getting this feeling in the pit of my stomach that stayed with me for awhile. What made it worse is that a woman responded to the post with the always articulate, "LMAO!" (Yes, I'm being sarcastic. It doesn't take much to get me to laugh really hard; it takes a lot to get me to respond to anything with an "LMAO".)
Just a few hours ago, I got on Facebook and saw the following picture:
Underneath it, a woman commented twice:
"marilyn is so beautiful. i have her picture on a poster behing my bed, and others all over my alls." (SIC)Let me be clear: I. HATE. DUCK. LIPS. I wish I could just tell every young woman out there that she looks absolutely ridiculous poking her lips out in such an unattractive manner. And honestly, does the young woman really think that expression, along with the peace sign, make her cool? I won't assume. But the commenter felt compelled to call her a "bitch". Why? Honestly, if you look at both photos, Marilyn may be sending a message to men that she's ready and willing to cater to their every need. The young woman on the right could be sending any message, but it looks like she doesn't care what anyone thinks about her, and as far as I'm concerned, that's a bit more empowering than Marilyn's "Give me your love package" look.
"that other bitch..... will never be on a poster..... and damn sure never in my room."
Here's the thing. Not all women are necessarily going to care about their image. Not all women are conscious about their words and actions. However, whatever our mode of expression might be, be it through our words, our body image, our facial expressions, or even our attitudes, there's no reason to call us bitches.
I'm strong, I'm confident, I'm bold, and I say what I think. Some people might think I'm a bitch. I disagree. Whatever I do and whatever I say, my intention is always to do and say it with love. If that makes you uncomfortable, then it's your problem. Calling me a bitch won't resolve your issues. All it does it demonstrate your lack of ability to appreciate me for all of who I am, especially if it doesn't conform to your perceptions of who a woman should be in this society.
Don't go around calling women bitches. Unless you're okay with men being called assholes. I'm sure when men stop to think about it, it's the last thing they'd want to be called.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Importance of the Verb
A verb is a part of speech that conveys action. Verbs appear alongside nouns, and without verbs a sentence is not complete; it is just a fragment. Without a complete statement, the person hearing or reading will, in most cases, be confused, and will misunderstand the idea being communicated. "Action" can be defined as something that is done or performed, an act or a deed. Actions are different from feelings in that actions are demonstrable, while feelings are a state of consciousness that can be subject to interpretation. As a counselor, I listen to my clients and attempt to identify the emotions they are conveying. Most people don't walk into a meeting with me ready to state that they feel insecure, depressed, sad, or rejected, as these emotions convey vulnerability, which most people won't admit to. As a counselor, my job is to lead my client on a journey of self-awareness where he or she identifies emotions and the thoughts or events that led to those particular feelings, and then takes action so that he or she can move forward. In other words, our conscious minds produce thoughts that lead to feelings, and those feelings lead to actions.
A verb is an action. An action is clear, demonstrable, and connotes decisiveness. An action, while still subject to interpretation, provides more clarity than a lack of action.
I've learned the difference between a noun and a verb; a feeling and an action. I've been told "I love you" many times by several people. Hearing the words "I love you" makes my heart swell and makes me feel alive. Then, I want to take action. I want to see the person. I want to talk. I want to spend time with the person. Being around the person gives love (the feeling) the opportunity to be love (the action). When love is demonstrated, it clears away confusion and brings clarity to the relationship.
I've learned that some people can easily say "I love you" as a feeling, but can't seem to translate that feeling into action. I've learned that, even when I want to take action, others might have guards up that prevent them from moving forward in that love they claim to feel. For me, love without action is incomplete. Just as a sentence without both a noun and a verb is a fragment, love (the feeling) without love (the action) becomes unclear, confusing, and easily misunderstood.
I've learned that when you give your heart to someone, you have to be ready to take action. You also have to keep in mind that, if that person doesn't take action, his or her love for you is incomplete. True love is demonstrated.
Love as a noun is a good start. Love as a verb is what moves us forward.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Boys Will Be Boys (Until They're Taught To Be Men)
One of the challenges is that I am sometimes the recipient of attention and commentary that has absolutely nothing to do with who I am personally or even professionally. I previously wrote about being labeled a feminist as if it were a negative thing in a post titled, "And Ain't I A Feminist?". I understand that perceptions will develop out of my role as the leader of a women's empowerment group; after all, as I help empower young women, some men are bound to feel as if their power is being appropriated. However, in the past few months I've noticed how, as a society, we have allowed gender perceptions to guide male/female interactions as if they were completely acceptable, without questions.
Specifically, during the summers as part of my counseling and advising role, our department hosts a multi-week program that assists incoming freshmen with the academic and social transition to college. For the most part, we hire students in our program because they've gone through the experience and serve as leaders and role models for success. A challenge came when a young woman who participated in my women's program had to get the attention of 120 of these post-high school/pre-college students who had just finished eating dinner (a formidable task only two days into the program). I had always perceived her as soft-spoken and somewhat shy, yet she projected her voice, got their attention at once, and gave clear and concise instructions to the huge group she addressed. As I was standing with some of the male students who were working with us as peer mentors, I stated, "Wow, look at her! She's being so assertive!" One of the boys, who is also a member of a similar type of men's leadership group on campus, stated, "That's because your group makes women angry." I proceeded to correct him, letting him know there was a difference between anger and assertiveness. Another young man, also a member of this men's group, stated, "We leave our group meetings feeling great", and made an "Ahhhh" sound. The first boy decided to add on, "Yes, and your girls leave your meetings feeling angry and hating men." He and his male peers proceeded to laugh together as if this was just the funniest thing anyone had ever said. (For the record, we barely talk about men during our sessions.)
Just last week, our groups were represented at our campus student organization expo. Of course, they were asked to set up next to each other. As I stopped by to check on the women and how sign ups were going, that same young man came up to me to say that their group had signed up more people than our group did. I congratulated him but reminded him that it was not a competition, and as I spoke up, I noticed that about two or three other men surrounded me, then started joking about ME, personally, imitating me as if I sounded like one of the Basketball Wives (which I do not take as a compliment). Of course, this was hilarious to them. Later on, back at my office, little boy number one continued with the "we're better than you, we signed up more people than you" mantra, to which I replied, "I understand that your insecurity makes you want to compete with us. However, there's no competition." I hoped that by this one small response, he would think about the reasons why he felt the need to continue to assert some kind of superiority. I doubt it made a difference.
Don't get me wrong, I can joke around, and I do. One of the reasons that two or three young men feel the need to "gang up" on me is because they all know I can take one out in about three words. However, it made me think about what we allow boys to do, and why we do that.
"Boys will be boys" is one of those statements that is made with either disgust and resignation, or flippantly and blithely. In conversations about these interactions with my male colleagues, they mentioned that some of these boys are immature, and, "you know girls mature more quickly than boys." Although I understand there might be some kind of maturity gap between young men and women (and older ones for that matter), part of that gap exists due to a general acceptance in society not to hold boys accountable for some of their actions and comments. The sadder aspect of the idea that "boys will be boys", for me, is that as a society, we're saying that we're not going to hold them to a higher standard, that they don't need the attention and focus we might give to girls in teaching them how to be "ladies". We're saying that we won't hold them accountable, and in the process of letting them "be boys", we're not teaching them to be men.
Instead of writing off comments and actions as childish and immature, why don't we ask these boys, especially those who consider themselves leaders or role models, to question their reasons for making such comments? When my students (regardless of gender) make poor decisions, I ask them why. If their answer is, "I don't know", I don't let them get away with that. They must sit and reflect on their decisions, their words, and their actions until they come to a new understanding of themselves. They usually thank me for holding them accountable. They grow from these experiences.
Let's not let boys be boys. Let's teach them how to be men. Not only will they be better for it, we all will benefit.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Yes, I Am C.A.T.T.Y. (and proud of it!)
I just got back home from a very energizing evening, so energizing that, even though I would be normally be getting ready for bed at this time, I feel like writing. What did I do this evening that energized me? I spent the past four hours chatting with a woman, a sociology professor that teaches at the college where I work.
Last Thursday, I had lunch with another woman who is the President of the Chamber of Commerce in the county where I work. I'd met her at a luncheon for an alumna of the college, and the following semester she did a workshop on advocacy for the young women's leadership program I coordinate. Since then, she's been a big supporter of my women's program.
At church yesterday, a woman that I've known for the past seven years through our small group came and sat next to me. We hugged and talked during the announcements and offering.
What were the topics of conversation with these women? Well, the woman at church and I were talking about the classes we would be taking this semester. She's a mother of two with a busy husband whom she sells real estate with, while writing for a newspaper and writing lessons for the church small group curriculum, who is also pursuing a Master's degree in Social Work. I'm not married and I don't have children, but on top of my job, I run a women's leadership program that takes up a lot of my time. I also take time to go to New York City as often as possible to help care for my elderly mother. I run my household by myself, try to get to the gym a few times a week, and now I am starting a doctoral program in Higher Education. I hadn't seen this woman in over two months. Could we have caught up on church gossip? I'm sure. However, we were more interested in talking about how we were planning on balancing our busy lives with the expectations of graduate classes.
The President of the Chamber of Commerce and I talked about fear. I told her that I would be starting school in about a week, and that I was scared. She told me that for the past eight years since she's been President, she's woken up scared, telling herself, "I'm going to my new job." She said, "For eight years, I've been calling this my 'new' job!" And she told me something that will stay with me for the rest of my life: "If you aren't scared, you're complacent. It's good to be scared. People who are scared are people who take risks."
The sociology professor and I had dinner with her son and his friends, then sat down with coffee and talked about pedagogy (a fancy word for "teaching"). We discussed a strategy I'd learned in my master's level counseling program, and talked about ways she could use it with her students. We brainstormed a few more ideas, then talked about the process of connecting with others, and finally we talked about power and strength. I told her about my journey toward embracing my power, and how for some people, my power could be intimidating or overwhelming. Her words: "You are the Presence of Health (or the Divine, or God), and sick people will either be drawn to you because they want to be healed, or they will want to destroy you because you expose their illness." Deep, right?
While the television networks are showing us images of women fighting each other and exposing either their thongs or their Spanx on so-called "reality shows", REAL women are having REAL conversations. While society would have us believe that women are catty (as in spiteful or vindictive), I am having conversations with strong, amazing women who are supportive of my strength, as opposed to competing with me to see who's stronger.
Women and men both say that women are catty. They say it without thought, as though it is a given. Every time I hear that comment, I say, "I beg to differ." I have seen the difference that confidence and support make in my own life as well as the lives of the young women I work with. I don't see anything catty about the women I encounter. However, if you still think I'm catty, or that the women you work with, or go to church with, or network with are catty, then I'll agree, as long as you know that we are:
C - Confident and strong
A - Aware of who we are
T - Tenacious and persistent
T - Tantalizing (We're women, how can we not be?)
Y - Young at heart, in mind, and in spirit
So go ahead, call me C.A.T.T.Y. I'm proud of who I am, and of the women I know who aren't afraid to be C.A.T.T.Y. too!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Waiting List
Many of these optimistic "Generation Y"-ers wanted to do something that would make a difference in the world, much as they did in college. As college students, they raised awareness about issues affecting people around the world, studied abroad learning about healthcare and education disparities, and spent their own money donating to enterprising women in developing countries. They applied to jobs and internships through various non-profit organizations. Throughout this process, some of them expressed their concern about not finding something right after graduation. Some of them watched as their peers got accepted into programs or internships or got jobs. While they attempted to support each other as a group, individually their anxiety was mounting as graduation day grew closer.
A few of these students were placed on the waiting list for positions they had interviewed for. I received this news from them along with a mixture of hope and disappointment. My duty as a counselor was to remain positive and tell them that they were great and would be chosen for their coveted positions. I also attempted to convince them that, in waiting, they could rest and spend time on leisure activities or on personal growth experiences. Of course, as they waited, I also held my breath in a figurative sense. These students were such amazing people who brought me joy just by their mere presence and could transform the atmosphere of any room they walked into. One by one I received emails and text messages saying, "Ms. G, I got in!" And my response was, "Well of course you did, what did you expect?"
The "waiting list" is one of those concepts that evokes a multitude of conflicting emotions - worry and anxiety, relief and hope. It can cause self-doubt, have us wondering why we weren't chosen first, even lead to a lowering of our standards and expectations. The process of waiting can also be an invaluable experience. In waiting, we can rest, recuperate, and reflect on our past experiences and what we want to take with us as we move forward in our lives. In waiting, we are growing in the safety of a cocoon that we know, even while that very cocoon might start to become uncomfortable as we grow and transform.
I have been waiting a while for certain things in my life. At this point, I've been "chosen" to receive some of my desires, but I'm still waiting for some to be fulfilled. In the process of waiting, I've learned that everything I want might not be what is best for me at this particular moment. I've learned to let go of expectations that had nothing to do with my personal values and were more learned behavior. I've learned to accept myself for who I am while holding on to the perseverance and resilience necessary to move forward in life. Although I still wait for some of my heart's desires, I appreciate the lessons I'm learning in the process of waiting.
Recently, I spent time with someone who I had been dating on and off for a while. We'd both been divorced and were guarded and cautious about committing to a relationship. I told him that, despite our strong connection, I knew we were looking for different things out of life, and I shared that I desire marriage and children. After having time to think, he told me that, although he never considered remarrying, my desire for a family is causing him to rethink his perspective. Of course, the process of "rethinking" for him translates into a process of waiting for me, if I so choose to. Much like my students, the idea of waiting brings me anxiety and hope - anxiety that I might be waiting for something that might never happen, and hope that somehow, it will.
Most recently, he and I took a walk on a beautiful pier, and as I felt the breeze and listened to the waves gently rocking against the docked boats, I said to him, "This is the life I want to live." His response: "You're living it RIGHT NOW." Those five words put waiting into perspective for me. I'm actually NOT waiting, I'm LIVING. And, as all living beings do, I am growing, learning, evolving, and maturing. So, although I might think I'm on the waiting list, in reality, I'm right where I need to be at this very moment, and I choose to enjoy it. This moment, RIGHT NOW, was worth the wait.
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