Bring on the Chivalry!

Written on March 13, 2015

There is nothing more powerful in being a woman than feminine wiles and the ability to move and motivate men.

It is strength to be a woman, to hold qualities of heart, nurture, intelligence, multiple task coordination, and the great quality of giving time and again of love from replenishing depths. Women are designed to be a compliment to men.

This does not make them unequal as many believe – rather, it sets up roles that work for the betterment of all. I’m not naive in thinking my perspective has the potential to infuriate feminists the world around – and I am fine with that. Take up your cause, I say, and I will continue on my path understanding the amazing gift I possess in being a woman – with characteristics that men simply do not have.

It makes me sad that so many fight against femininity, and I do not understand how in any way chivalry can be concluded in negative connotations as sexism. Chivalry is kindness, benevolence, an homage to womanhood and femininity – it is beautiful respect, and I revel in it.

Men, not all women are caught up in these inequality rants. There are those of us who understand it takes both sexes to round out the world. Keep opening doors and know there are those of us who will continue to smile at you in grateful, respectful ways that only we can.

http://insider.foxnews.com/2015/03/13/study-opening-doors-women-benevolent-sexism

I’m Just a Girl

Been reading some political articles this morning and the comments people make following them.

What is it with lumping people into stereotyped categories and offering no allowances for independent thought?

All Democrats believe this. All Republicans believe that. All of this or that are Deplorables.

Saw a video this morning of Michelle Obama talking about White Flight. She generalized people into the categories of Black and White – blanket statements.

I’m sorry, Michelle, not ALL white people are racist, and to go along with that, I have known racist black people.

A group of black female students in St. Louis one day said to me, “Ms. Dacia, you’re a black girl.” Another time, a student said to me I was the first white woman she had ever liked.

I took both statements as compliments. And yet … it confused and saddened me. I’m just a girl – who didn’t choose her skin color any more than any of you did.

It all hurts me. This hate and prejudice. This generalizing one another into categories and looking past individuality and refusing to see each person as valuable and beautiful with their own views, perspectives, unique ways of viewing the world.

There are 7 billion people on this planet. Not one of us is the exact same. Not a one. We all have different experiences and emotions – different life events – different cultures – different backgrounds. Yes, some can be similar, but every person is unique and cannot be lumped into generalized categories. It is wrong.

People, we need to embrace our differences. Find strength in our differences. Find ways to work together and not against each other. Learn from each other. Be critical thinkers. Understand there is no utopian society on this earth where all people are just like you. That would be unfulfilling. Truly.

As with every post I write, it comes to this – Love Your Neighbor As Yourself. It just does.

Career Services Quandry – Biting My Tongue – Sort Of

More than once lately, it has been stated to me that this or that graduate does not want to give the school credit for them finding their own jobs. It’s put me in a reflective mode.

When I got my first Bachelor degree, I took 10 courses under 1 professor where I felt I learned nothing … and back in those days, I blamed him. I complained. I stomped. I sat down with the Academic Dean and gave him a piece of my mind. Nothing changed. I was incensed.

Then … I became a teacher … and I learned that education and college success are just as much the responsibility of the student as they are the faculty and staff. I tell my students now, that if a book is on the syllabus it is their responsibility to read it – not mine to use it in class. I could go on about how education is on the learner and that the learning environment is just the catalyst, and I could expound more, but I digress back to the first paragraph and continue forward with those thoughts.

Students not wanting to ‘give credit’ …

It is stated to new students and to students in phases 8, 9, and 10 that it is not the school’s responsibility to get them a job. It is the task of Career Services to assist in the job search – not to guarantee a job.

There are no guaranteed jobs. However, welding jobs are more than plentiful. Here in Tulsa and across the country. The board next to my desk only scratches the tip of the surface – and it is on the daily that we – Johnny, Paula, and myself are assisting grads and almost grads with job searches.

This office is busy all day with job leads – contacting grads – working to assist graduates with employment searches. We send recommendation letters, update resumes, make phone calls when asked to, we are constantly reaching out to graduates who are not yet placed with job leads. We are pleased to assist and want to do our jobs well … pushing to find those jobs that pay our grads and change lives.

Some grads have stated to me that the jobs we offer (we don’t offer jobs – we locate opportunities and hand those out – suggest them as potentialities) do not pay good rates – grads feeling they’re worth more than those companies pay. To this, I state … rates of pay differ across the country as do the different types of welding jobs.

It is on the graduate to make their own life happen. If you want that high, high pay … seek it and be highly skilled. Locate the opportunity and have us call the HR place to leave a recommendation for you – either us or an instructor.

We are here to help you … as the teachers are here to guide and teach and assist.

It is true that there have been graduates who have gone from these halls and walls and not left good impressions behind, and that has hurt opportunities for those coming in their wake.

Our office is working to repair those damages and reestablish good communication and lines of work for our coming graduates and those who’ve gone on before and come back to us for assistance.

It is exhausting. People are exhausting.

“I’m gonna make you f$#%ing afraid of me”

It has been almost a month since I stepped away from an unhealthy relationship. I have not once doubted that decision – and I am not one to defame another on social media, so I have refrained from commenting much other than a previous post or two regarding the harassment/harassing behaviors I have endured since December 26. He is blocked on all social media and his emails do not come to me. I have blocked his number on my phone, but the voicemails he leaves still come through. Today, I received another unwanted voicemail (there are over 40 now), and I promptly recorded it to another device and filed a police report.

Pardon the language – but here is the text of the voicemail.

“Hey, you need to get with me about paying that goddamn money back for that fucking windshield. I’m gonna go by and get a copy of that goddamn receipt if I have to and uh, you’re gonna pay me that goddamn $200 back. You wanna fuck somebody over, well goddamn you better pay me back my goddamn money or I’m gonna take it out of your ass. Do you understand me? You wanna be scared of me? I’m gonna make you fucking scared of me. I’m gonna give you what you wanted, just like you told me before. I told you I wasn’t gonna be hateful to you, but you wanna act like a goddamn little kid, I’m gonna treat your ass like one.” 1/23/2018 – 12:01 pm.

This has been addressed today – dealt with – and my hope is that it will stop now. He has been told not to contact me or my family again.

In the past month, he contacted my ex-husband, three of my children, my father, my mother, my brother, my best friend. All in the name of “concern” for me – thinking that through any of them, he could get me to talk to him. Lines crossed. Major lines crossed. Contacting my 10-year-old son. Who does that?

And $200? He wanted me to have the windshield. I said it wasn’t necessary, that I could drive around with the cracks. He thought the windshield would fall in on me, so he wanted it fixed. So now, I owe him back? When I didn’t even think it was necessary … I just can’t. There is so much more the nasty in me wants to say, but I choose to not say more. Just … I can’t.

From this point forward … I will walk with trepidation toward and around relationships. Trust seems nonexistent. How could I? After what I endured in my marriage, and now this – yet another man who swore to love me. Ha. I have one Protective Order filed, and if the harassment doesn’t stop, another one will be. It seems ridiculous to me, and I wonder what it is about me that causes this … is it me? I am dissecting that.

It crossed my mind today that perhaps I should become a nun. Hidden away in a convent. That wouldn’t work though. I would be worse than Maria trying to be a good little nun. “How do you solve a problem like Maria?” would be nothing compared to Nunnery lyrics written concerning me.

I try. I really do. I want to love – to love and be loved … but, I question whether it truly exists and if it does – if it exists for me. Perhaps, like Maria, my Captain Von Trapp is out there. Perhaps. I don’t know. Maybe after everything I have done, I don’t deserve it. I don’t know that either.

What I do know today is … I will not be abused again.

RED FLAGS will be noted and heeded with immediacy.

I will listen to the voices in my head and my wounded, distrustful heart.

Here’s to tomorrow. A new day. I pray it contains no voicemails.

We Are All Deviant

We live in a sea of people and no two are exactly the same. Still, society wants to reflect auras of normalcy on its populations. Sameness. Order. Varying rules by culture and continent and church. Then …. anything outside of normalcy and determined deviant is deemed negative, then labeled, separated. Though deviant in its true definition simply means outside of normal. So who is deviant? Who’s is outside of normal?

An airline pilot?

A war veteran?

A mother of 5?

Outside the norm? From the sound of them, each is wholly normal, but it was an airline pilot who downed the Germanwings flight. It was a war veteran who killed Chris Kyle. It was Andrea Yates, simple mother of 5, who drowned her children in a bathtub one at a time and placed them into their beds. These we’ve called not only deviant but crazy.

So, how then do we determine crazy?

Yesterday on Facebook I saw this

and it gave me pause. I know plenty of 2nd amendments that I’d call crazy but they think they’re in their right minds. Yikes. So … How do we know? How do we know who is “crazy”?

We can’t. See, every person has the capacity for deviance. And there’s this thing called perspective – and in the crowded world there are over 6 billion different perspectives no matter how we try to conform them together – it is not fully possible. Combine this with the spectrums and varieties of differences in brain functions! Mental illnesses exist. Spectrum disorders exist. Many lie hidden, unnoticed, misdiagnosed, and when something bad happens, people toss their hands in the air and say how did someone not know!

The real issue is … Why do we treat each other with such selfish disrespect when walking around every day in your pathway is someone struggling with something. Someone on the verge of snapping. You just never know. Which of that is crazy? I say to ignore that every person struggles with something is the true crazy. Assumptions. Crazy.

What I know is this … The greatest commandments include these words … Love your neighbor as yourself!

Treat others the way you want to be treated. Treat all with thoughtfulness, patience, and kindness.

We’re all deviant. We’re all a little crazy. Never assume you’re above reproach in this. Guaranteed someone out there thinks you’re crazy.

Be okay with that.

Are You Common or Uncommon?

A little jump back in my journey of faith. Church camp at Camp Sooner in Pink, Oklahoma, just south of Norman, home of the OU Sooners. My devotion leader’s name was Ron Eden. He challenged our small group to memorize 1 Corinthians 10:13. This I did and it’s never left the frontmost places of my mind and soul.

No temptation has seized you, except what is common to man. And God is faithful. He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.These words echo, echo, echo in my mind whenever temptation arises. Here, I’d love to say that I heed the words each and every time, but that would be false. I listen. Consider. Either keep or toss, though I’m working more toward tossing the temptation and keeping to the Word of God. See, I don’t want to be subject to anything that is common. To be led astray by common things seems childish, immature, not a thing I want for me. Not common. I am uncommon. Yet … I stumble. I fall. I fail. And yes, I’m using a lot of “I” … it is, after all, a post about my journey – the one I’m still on.In my mind, the words of Paul in Romans 7 are knocking and wanting to come out, wanting to join this page via my pen. They long to express this heart of mine, the complexity of emotion, the contentiousness I deal with, the ups and the downs, the irrational behaviors, and also then to reach out to another’s heart in the same line. So, I share them with you. From Romans 7:15-25 …

15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18 For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.[c] For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

21 So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. 22 For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; 23 but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. 24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? 25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

These words of Paul are much appreciated. It’s nice to know that even 2,000 years ago, someone struggled just the same as I do. That there truly is nothing new under the sun. That a double-minded feeling is not for me alone. That all comes right in its time. That worry does nothing but make me miserable. And miserable I do not want to be. This double-minded person … Lord, please take this from me. I want to be of one mind, one purpose, one heart – all given unto You.

No common earth-bound, human struggles for this girl.

Uncommon. All. The. Way.

NO temptation will seize me from the grasp of Jesus … Lord, help me keep this in my mind and soul.

My Aspie Went Walkabout

Written on April 6, 2015

In the midst of a house full of family and friends this evening, my 18-year-old son decided to go for a walk. He told no one. Not one soul – all of his closest friends were here. He told nobody, just slipped away. We searched the house, the darkest parts of the yard, called him, texted him, and nothing. No response.

In mother-style, I was ready to call in troops and organize search parties. We did … In the manner of Sprint Family Locator. And where was the boy? In Maryland Heights! That’s a 15-20 minute drive, let alone a walk! What was he thinking? That’s my question. We tracked him, found him, recovered his speed-walking self.

He’s home, fully lectured and scolded by his shorter-than-him mother. I stood under his face, finger pointed up to his nose, and I felt taken back in time to days long past when he occasionally stood shorter than me and in trouble – big blue eyes watering because mommy was upset. Rarely happened. Just a look from me was all it took. So, again to my adult son, I gave that look. Only from beneath his questioning blue eyes this time..

Questioning because he does not fully grasp the situation. What’s it like to parent an Aspergian child? This. Something spurred him to take that walk. I’ve not received an answer from him concerning what as of yet. None of his friends knew. Not a sister or a brother. No reasoning. That will come, but in the moment when the walk came to his mind, he could do nothing but. And walk, he did – my eldest Aspergers boy.

We’ve done the calculations – seems he walked over 10 miles before his father found him.

Frightening? Yes, but not for the reasons that first come to mind. Safety and all. That’s not it. It’s that this boy is a man. Almost 19. Soon he will no longer live under my roof and walkabouts can be a regular part of his routine. That is fine, I think. In most social settings he does fine. He gets by. People like him. He’s genuinely a great guy, older than his years in many ways – serious, focused, without need of much silliness or play. He does not grasp how his actions affect those around him. Nor does he comprehend how to appropriately navigate emotions from others. This is where the momma bear in me whats to always be on hand. I have to guide him and his ancient soul.

Perhaps though, that is exactly what I need not to do. Perhaps, walkabouts are just what he needs. Via this ordeal, I’ve discovered this is not his first adventurous blind walk. There’ve been several, unbeknownst to me. What I told him was this … (this was his lecture) … as long as you live under this roof, tell someone you’re going for a walk. Answer your phone when we call you. Once you’re on your own, walk whenever you want. Be Forest Gump, I said – and drew a laugh from the boy-man.

Ah … walkabout.

When Your Aspie Wants To Be “Normal”

The young man in the following post is 22 now. 22 with a girlfriend and $18/hr job. I’d say he’s doing alright … you know, for an Aspie. (1/23/2019 – by Proud Momma)

Written on April 15, 2015

He feels the chasm between himself and his peers far deeper than most of them or we realize. He knows its there, sees it, reaches for it but doesn’t know how to bridge that gap of social right and wrong, of understanding the right words to speak or when to offer a hug or not, when to stop talking, when to tell a joke and how, if his ‘listener’ is listening. The most difficult thing is knowing the chasm exists – knowing it and focusing on it, almost to the point of exclusion of ability to then attempt to get “it” right – the over-focus blurs the lines and he feels like an orange blinking light in a steady sea of gray hues. Standing out like a throbbing, sore thumb and he wants to just fit in. To not blink so loudly or feel the pounding pain in his brain from perceived social injustice to his tortured “abnormal” self. He beats himself up emotionally. He tears at himself mentally. He jabs at himself verbally. He just wants to be understood … and it looms the impossible task. Especially when it comes to girls.

I find myself saying cliche’ things like “Mom loves you just like you are” and “God made you perfect” and it brings no comfort to his tortured self that wonders why and how and when. Though he tries to fit in, it just is never quite within his reach. That I can no longer ease his hurts with my own kisses and hugs tears at me too. He’s a man now, almost 19, and I wonder and ask God how my man-boy will navigate through the world once he steps out on his own … without me. His compass. His guide. His protector. His voice. His … yeah, I need to let go a bit and let myself know …

It’s okay that he stumbles some on this path to independence. Mom is always a phone call away – to simplify something that plagues him, to speak the words that his mind will hear, grasp, then understand. He has to figure himself out … and the time is approaching quickly where he will load his last bit of earthly possessions into a vehicle and he’ll drive up the street and disappear around the bend where the trees curve over the road, their branches covering, touching each other up in the air – a canopy like a tunnel to a new world. I’ll stand and wave, wipe a few tears, then wait for his will-come-soon-enough call.

I know he will find his own “normal” – probably more so when we don’t have each other at a constant beck and call.I know I’m an enabler. He’s codependent. Half the battle is in recognizing the issue. He has an “Aspergers” diagnosis and so what – that’s not what keeps him “down” … perhaps, might it be the codependency? The ease of having an overprotective parent to ward off the cruelty of “normal” people. At this, I raise an eyebrow. At this, I pose my newest question in all of this …

What is normal? And with that, who is to say what normal is?

I tell my boy that he will find his group. He will find his girl. There are plenty of folks roaming around in the world who are misfits of some sort. Heck, we all are in truth. None of us is “normal” and I don’t want to be – don’t want him to be. So, good for him with his Aspergers, though he wishes it were Synesthesia. He’s more “normal” than normal because he is abnormal and that makes him special. Not special needs … Special, unique, different. He’s got his own drumbeat and I like the rhythm. He’s quirky. He’s an old soul in a young man’s body. He loves computers and the Bible. He’s kind and has a strong work ethic. He’s a good kid – loves music. Mostly older stuff, which thrills his parents both! Led Zepplin blaring from the basement. Rock on kid, rock on. The Eagles. Petra. Weezer. The Beastie Boys. He’s diverse in a multiplicity of ways.

Gotta get him to a place where he embraces the “differences” in his own psyche – where he sees himself as fearfully and wonderfully made – exactly right. The orange square in a world of gray circles. He’ll get there. And it’ll need to be his own journey. Mom, back off. Let him stumble. Let him try. Let him fail. Watch him succeed. He’ll find his niche. And oh, what a niche it will be. Let him find that abnormal … his “normal.”

Aaron Likens calls it “Kansas” – finding that which makes you feel “normal” … my son will discover his in computers. I know this. He knows this. He’s well on his way … in fact he’s probably more there than you or I are. His quest for “normal” pales in comparison to the peer pressures that the majority of “normal” seekers fall into. For my son … peer pressure isn’t a thing. Why would he do what you’re doing? You’ll get in trouble. That’s dumb. He’s not about trouble. He’s about music and computers … and girls. So, no quest for peer pressure, just for peers to understand him. That’s a whole nother journey. And a good one.

He just wants to not be that sore thumb. I’ll give him that … a bit.

My word to him … we all feel like a sore thumb some days. And that … that makes you “normal” Son. Whatever normal means.

Keep being you. Love what you love. Do what you do. Enjoy all that life throws your way. Know I’m always around … just a phone call away. You’ll be great, kid. You’ll be swell.

Because YOU are more “normal” than the rest of us … because you are special. Your mind works unique to the rest of us drudgers – we’re all in competition with each other for the title of cool. You’ll not wear that crown, but so much the better for you, because YOU rise above it, above being Cool King kid. You, like so many others with Aspergers before you, you CHANGE the world. You invent. You focus. You digest. You make a difference. You don’t get caught up in the peer pressures and the idiocrasy of social living.

Follow what interests you.

Do your thing.

I’m gonna be right there enjoying your adventure … from the side. 🙂 This is YOUR show. Your special, unique, God-given, blessed journey – made just for you.

What will you do?

Who will you be?

I can’t wait to see.

Did You Hear The Mouth Jumped All Over the Left Hand?

Every single day at a workplace shake-your-head moments happen. Am I right? Don’t answer because more than likely your reaction was “Uh, yeah” accompanied by either a slight eye roll or head bob and multitudes of examples exploded in your mind. “This one time,” or “Bob. That guy Bob. He always …” Leave it. Let it lie.

Why? Because every single day at a workplace, there’s at least one person who has a shake-your-head moment at you. Truth.

And that’s okay. It is. And why? Because we are humans and human beings are exceedingly faulty.

Just this week, I played witness to and unwitting participant in events which needed no managerial concern. A classic scenario of the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing. Instead of the right hand reaching out to the left hand, he decides to get the mouth involved. Now, the mouth is not directly connected to the similar duties of the hands, but tries to come and say many words in an effort to keep the perceived errant left hand in line. Then the nose wants in on it, cause well, the nose is nosey and before too much time passes, the whole body is jittering with news of the left hand’s failure. And sadly, all along, the left hand just needed a bit of guidance from the right hand – who withheld said information and ran the to the mouth to avoid direct contact with the left hand for whatever reason. Shake-your-head moments on all sides. “Can you believe?” “The left hand never does it right.” “Did you hear the mouth jumped all over the left hand?” “The left hand is getting cut loose, right?” “That right hand is such a kiss-up.” “The mouth and the right hand spend a lot of time together – wonder what’s up with that?” “Shh, here comes the nose.” ��And it plays on. It played on this week.

And I was sad.

I choose to see each individual I work with as human, capable of error, capable of success, incapable of 100% keeping personal from work. My shake-your-head moments come when the onslaught of gossip rages around and drama unfolds that takes valuable working time, draws away from productivity because HR has to become involved, or lawyers, or management, or whoever for whatever reason. Why is perfection expected from all else but oneself? Jumping to conclusions is the greatest of work past-times. It happens. Don’t say you’re not guilty of it.

We all are and it negatively affects our success …. Perception –> Behavior –> Performance.

Workplace performance success comes when all function as a team. Yes, here’s team-talk … there’s no “I” in “Team.” (Rolled your eyes? Me too.) Not everyone needs to be on the same project or in the same department, or even like each other … BUT, variety is key … and TEAM performance comes in recognizing we are all human, capable of error, and worthy of consideration, kindness, and guidance. We are folks who use and rely on computers and we all know how reliable computers are. In fact, we choose to let them do our communication for us …

Which in my vaguely mentioned example herein was the crux of the matter. Email. Ah, email. In a fast-paced work environment, relying on communication to solely consist of digital communication is faulty, can be misinterpreted, has no face-to-face-to-read-body-language ability. How many work situations run downhill because fingers and black and white letters are relied on to convey need and necessity.

I just can’t. I’m a get-up and go talk kind of work-gal. My theme is to maintain solid working relationships with each department and every work-mate. Part to ensure I get done what I need done when I need it done. Yes. Is that manipulative? I guess it can be seen that way, but the question of motive arises. Do I wish ill things on my coworkers? No. Do I want to see other departments fail? No. I want that we as a company are successful. Will I lead any of my coworkers to wrongdoing. Never. Our cumulative success comes only when we work together and I baffle at the many who do not pursue their work lives in this way.

It’s perspective … perception … and that is chosen. You choose to shake your head or communicate. I choose to shake my head or communicate. Every day. Am I always on target with my goal of complete utopia in the workplace? Ha. I wish. But I strive to remember each day that we all see each other in much the same way – expecting perfection from others but hoping to have our own faults forgiven. That’s hypocritical but more normal than not.

Challenge? Think it through, right hand, before speaking to the mouth, especially before speaking to the nose. Go to the left hand and communicate with rational, thought-through speaking of words. Solve the problems. Move forward with the company. Stop the drama … Perceive all angles. Behave with the best interests of all. Let company performance top itself out!

Possible? Why not? All that stops us is ourselves.

I Prefer to Think of This as Pretzel Baby

Written on April 20, 2015

It’s Monday. Find the Funny.

I’m at work, about to clock in. Find the Funny.

Red files cover the cabinets behind me, all needing to be “closed” in the system. Find the Funny.

To make it successfully through this race of life, laughter is imperative. Those who laugh, enjoy greater health and stress management. Research exists to back these words up. Look it up. Read. Be convinced you have to Find the Funny in life.

Like this … I walked into my son’s bedroom this morning to this …

A fantastic way to start my day. I continue to giggle, thinking of my baby twisted up like a pretzel … though he wasn’t. There were two of them in the bed – just took me a few moments to realize it. I choose to think it’s a pretzel baby.

Red files, smed files … I choose to think they’re still Valentine’s decorations, casting a glow of love around this office. We’ll get through them … but in the meantime … life’s glowing up in here.

Choose to enjoy what you do.

Choose to look for what makes you laugh – Find it. It’s there.

Laugh more.