Standing Against Bullying

Bullying isn't new.  I'm sure that as long as large groups of people--teenagers, specifically--have gathered, there has been bullying.  I was bullied when I was in school.  Fortunately for me it rarely got physical, beyond occasionally being shoved into a locker, but verbal abuse can be just as devastating.  The old adage about "sticks and stones" may rhyme nicely, but it doesn't ring true.

I remember one full week of school where no one spoke to me except for teachers.  The "leader" of our clique and I had a disagreement, and all of our friends sided with him.  No one from the other cliques really ever bothered with me.  To be honest, no one really understood me, not even my friends.  I was a "nerd" who wanted to be a cheerleader.  I tried out for and, to everyone's amazement, made the squad.  My friends--theater, band and yearbook "geeks"--could not relate.  The other cheerleaders never saw me as one of them.  In fact a rumor was started that the only reason I made the squad was because my mother called the school and made them put me on the squad.  No one knew the hours and hours of practice I had put in at home prior to tryouts.  

Being raised by a single mother, many of my clothes were secondhand.  I was made fun of for not being stylish, but not just for that.  For things that neither I nor my mother could control: for being short, for having freckles, or for being smart.    Once someone passed me a wrapped up package in class.  When I opened it I found amputated grasshopper legs from biology lab.  I, of course, freaked out, and everyone had a good laugh.  I didn't get the worst of it, though.  There were others in my class who suffered more than I did.  I am sorry to say that I didn't stick up for them as often as I should have...unless I had my friends around to back me up I was afraid to draw attention to myself.

Names hurt.  Rumors hurt.  Nasty things written on bathroom walls hurt.  Notes passed in class hurt.  Pranks intended to humiliate hurt.  In my day, that was what we dealt with.  Today bullying has found a new weapon: technology.

Twenty years ago it took a whole school day for a rumor about someone to circulate around the school.  Today it can happen in seconds.  With texting, Twitter, YouTube and Facebook, bullies have the means to humiliate their targets faster and to a wider audience than ever before.  This form of bullying is so pervasive that it actually has its own term, "cyberbullying."

Children are dying.  They are literally being bullied to death.  We need to take a stand.  Adults need to be role models for children.  The way that we talk to each other...when someone cuts us off on the highway, or bumps into us in a store...sets an example for the children who hear us.  When we hear children being mean to each other, we can't tell ourselves it isn't our business and move on--we have a responsibility to intervene.  And when a child or a teenager tells you that someone is bullying him or her, don't recite the "sticks and stones" rhyme or tell him or her to be the "bigger person."  Get involved!  Too many children are scared to go to school, too many children and teens are seeing suicide as their only means of escape.  We need to end this epidemic NOW.

At my 20th high school reunion I was able to witness an amazing event...one of my classmates approached someone I was sitting with and apologized for being mean to her all those years ago. For me, witnessing that was the best moment of the entire reunion. The reunion itself was not all that spectacular. The food was okay, the venue was nice and everyone broke off into the same cliques we had belonged to in high school. But that brief moment renewed my faith in people. Unfortunately, for many victims of bullying that moment will never come.

There are terrific organizations out there dedicated to helping take a stand against bullying and helping victims deal with bullying.  A few are listed below:

GLSEN, the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, is the leading national education organization focused on ensuring safe schools for all students. It was featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.


Stand Together, a project of GLESN, was also featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.


The Trevor Project  is determined to end suicide among LGBTQ youth by providing life-saving and life-affirming resources including our nationwide, 24/7 crisis intervention lifeline, digital community and advocacy/educational programs that create a safe, supportive and positive environment for everyone.


StopBullying.Gov provides information from various government agencies on how kids, teens, young adults, parents,educators and others in the community can prevent or stop bullying.


Stomp Out Bullying  is a national anti-bullying and cyberbullying program for kids and teens.


The It Gets Better Project was created to show young LGBT people the levels of happiness, potential, and positivity their lives will reach – if they can just get through their teen years. The It Gets Better Project wants to remind teenagers in the LGBT community that they are not alone — and it WILL get better.

How I Became an Interpreter...and Then a Social Worker

I recently watched the movie "27 Dresses" for the first time.  I know...I'm way behind the times, but hey, I've been a bit busy earning my MSW and starting a new career and all that.  Anyway, I was struck by a few lines in the beginning: "Mozart found his calling at age five, composing his first minuet. Picasso discovered his talent for painting when he was nine. Tiger woods swung his first club well before his second birthday."  While I will never be as famous as those mentioned (in passing, why are they all men???), I, too, realized my future at a young age.  I was six years old when I came home from school and announced to my parents that "there is a girl in my class who can't hear.  She talks with her hands and I want to learn to talk to her."  This resulted in a family meeting, because the school indeed offered the opportunity to learn sign language, but it was in an afterschool club.  The thought of a first grader staying afterschool and taking the late bus home was scary for my parents.  My greatgrandparents had deeper fears...what if deafness were catching?  Eventually everyone's fears must have been put at ease, because I joined sign language club.

They say that the younger you learn a language, the easier it is to pick it up.  Whether it was my age, my enthusiasm, or maybe that I am a visual learner, learning sign came easily to me.  Of course, I had my Deaf friend--and in later grades, friends--to practice with, and an interpreter in class to watch.  In second grade there were no Deaf students in my class.  I was heartbroken, but continued with sign language club.  My mother contacted the school, and from third grade all the way through middle school I was in the class that the Deaf students were mainstreamed in.  I had found my niche. 

You remember the obligatory paper that we all had to write: "What I Want to be When I Grow Up"?  I wrote mine about becoming an interpreter.  From elementary school, I knew that I wanted to work with the Deaf.  Of course, I had the times that I wanted to be a ballerina, a gymnast, an archaeologist (except that I don't do well in the heat), but it always came back to being an interpreter, or a teacher for the Deaf.  When the time came to go to college, though, SUNY Albany no longer offered a major for sign language interpreters.  I ended up getting a scholarship to SUNY Plattsburgh and became a Speech-Language-Hearing Impaired Education major...I was going to be a Speech-Language Pathologist for Deaf kids.  Except that in my first few semesters we spent less than one class talking about deafness--and it was from a very medical perspective...about how to cure it.  We didn't discuss the rich culture and language that I had come to know through my interactions with my Deaf friends.  While the profession of a Speech-Language Pathologist is an important one, it just wasn't what I wanted to do.  I left Plattsburgh and applied to Flagler College for Deaf Education.  I was accepted, but I didn't receive enough financial aid to afford to go.

So, I answered an ad in the newspaper to be a substitute teaching assistant for BOCES.  When I turned in my application, I mentioned that I was fluent in sign language.  I was able to use one of the Teachers of the Deaf as a reference.  Suddenly, not only was I a substitute teaching assistant, but also a substitute interpreter.  Within a few months I interviewed for, and received, a part-time position interpreting in the elementary school that I had first learned to sign in.

The following school year I became employed full-time as an educational interpreter.  I worked in the schools for eight years.  During that time I earned my national Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf certification.  This opened up more doors for me, and the year that I was expected to interpret for 5 students with vastly different needs--American Sign Language, oral transliteration, and Signed English--all at one time, because they were in the same grade, I decided that it was time for me to move on.  I became a freelance interpreter and began working for three interpreting agencies in the area, and occasionally agencies outside of the area.

As a freelance interpreter, I worked in many different settings.  In one week I might be working at a statewide conference, in a college classroom, at a concert, at a birth, at a funeral...sometimes driving hours to arrive at an assignment.  I had many wonderful experiences...and some not so wonderful.  I had to interpret for a doctor telling someone that a loved one would not survive the night.  As heart wrenching as that was, I knew it was better for the person to see it in their native language than to read it on a piece of paper written by a nurse.

I enjoyed interpreting.  I loved doing something different everyday.  I liked the fact that I didn't have a set schedule, that I didn't sit in a cubicle or behind a desk.  However, over the twelve years that I worked freelance, there were many frustrations, too.  I wanted to help Deaf people to advocate for their rights.  Especially working in the mental health setting.  As an interpreter, however, I had to remain neutral.  While cultural mediation (bridging the gap between Deaf and hearing cultures) is part of our job, there is only so much that an interpreter can do without stepping out of role.  There were times that I wondered if a Deaf person was admitted as an inpatient simply because a psychiatrist did not understand Deaf culture, despite the cultural mediation I provided while interpreting.  There were other times that Deaf people were released, and I wondered if it was because the process of procuring and using an interpreter was too expensive and cumbersome.  But I couldn't say anything.  It finally got to be too much to put up with.

I returned to college to pursue a human services degree.  Then I enrolled in an undergraduate social work program.  Originally my intent was to be a counseling social worker for people with disabilities, especially for those who are Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing.  As I continued with my social work course work, I realized that my heart lies in advocacy.  When I went on to my MSW (Master of Social Work) program, I  adopted a macro concentration, rather than clinical. 

I still work as an interpreter occasionally.  I have some favorite assignments that occur every year that I don't want to give up.  However, on a daily basis I work as a social worker.  I view myself as a social worker, an advocate and an interpreter.  I don't see them as being mutually exclusive.  Upon occasion I find myself in a position to advocate for a Deaf person's right to have an interpreter.  In those instances, of course, I would not accept that particular interpreting assignment.  In general, however, I have found a wonderful balance between my worlds.  I still get to work with Deaf people--sometimes as a social worker and sometimes as an interpreter.

You think you know me,
but you don't.

Your arrogance leads you to believe that you understand me,
but you don't.

You know me as well as you know an oyster you find in the ocean--
you may study the shell, may memorize every crack and crevice,
but the soft inside and the pearl remain secreted within, far from your reach.

From morn to eve you may control my actions,
but you do not understand
my hopes,
my passions,
my weaknesses.

And you never will.

For I have watched you  use others' innermost feelings against them:
whether calculated or unintentional, the pain you cause is real.

And I will not speak to you of where I have been,
for you judge it by your past,
rather than of its own merit.

You have a need to relate each person's experience to your own,
to mark our progress by yours,
rather than letting us grow on our own.

Our lives need not mirror yours to be of worth.

My life cannot mirror yours, but still is worthy.
My experiences made me who I am,
and

I

am

worthy.

Even though I am not like you.
I do not want to be like you.
Always needing to be superior,
always needing to be one better.

You need to know me to control me,
and, sadly,
you think you do...
but you do not.
You will not.

You shall never know the real me,
for I shall never show myself to you.

Equality for All

If you live in New York, you know that Marriage Equality is a hotly debated subject right now.  I was fortunate enough to interpret at the Pride Festival last week, and I received a Pride bracelet, which I intend to wear until Marriage Equality passes the New York Legislature.  It passed the Assembly last week...and looks to be one vote short at this point in the Senate, although it still has not come for a vote.  The Legislature session was supposed to end today, but apparently has been extended, so there is still a chance.

Many people have been posting on Facebook in favor of both sides.  I have engaged in conversation--I won't stoop to name-calling and avoid those  who do so--with people who are against Marriage Equality, trying to understand why anyone would deny rights to another human being.  Though I have asked the question over and over again, generally I am answered with biblical quotes or the standard "it is an undeniable truth that marriage is one man, one woman."  Even those who try to point out that marriage is for procreation suddenly fall silent when people point out that not all heterosexual couples choose to, or are capable of, have(ing) children.

I am really struggling to understand why people would be so against two people in love being married in a civil ceremony.  Shouldn't those who object on religious reasons be satisfied with exemptions for religious organizations?  Why are people so determined to oppress others?  There are those who claim that they do not hate the LGBT community, yet they still refuse to acknowledge the right of marriage.

I cannot understand how the legal union of two loving, consenting, taxpaying citizens can be such a threat to others.  My father-in-law used the sanctity of marriage argument with me, but when I pressed him to tell me how it would affect his 45+ year marriage, he really couldn't.  Why can't people just accept separation of church and state?  If churches don't want to sanction LGBT marriages, they don't have to.  Many churches won't sanction interdenominational marriages--how is this any different?

It really breaks my heart that this even needs to be brought to a vote.  Everyone should automatically have the same rights.  But we have always needed a vote to ensure the rights of "minority" groups, so here we go again.  It just seems like the right thing to do to me...I cannot understand why a loving God would want anyone to be oppressed.

A Sense of Belonging

As human beings, we all want to feel like we belong somewhere, that we fit in.  I often wonder if that desire was stronger in me because I was an only child.  Also, because when I was 16 years old I found out that I was half-adopted (my mother married when I was two years old and he adopted me) I remember feeling that I wasn't quite sure who I was--my family tree suddenly had many question marks on it, and I wasn't even sure what nationalities I was.

As a child, the place that I felt most like I belonged, where I could be myself, was at Girl Scout Camp.  Camp Little Notch, located in the Adirondacks, was my second home for eight years.  I was so disappointed when I was old enough to be a C.I.T. at the camp and I wasn't able to because C.I.T.s had to pay to be at camp, and I needed to stay home and earn money for college.  I had hoped to return to work as a counselor, but apparently it wasn't meant to be.  I did work for 8 years at CLN's sister daycamp, Camp Is-Sho-Da, where I again found a place where I could just be me, but my heart was always tied to CLN.  When ever I participate in those visualization relaxation activities, Green Cathedrals at CLN is the place I picture.  A few years ago, the same day that I was laid off from working at the Girl Scouts, the council announced that they were closing Little Notch for "renovations."  Somehow I knew that the camp wouldn't be reopened, and I was more upset about that than losing my part-time job.  Sure enough, eventually the announcement came that the camp would be sold. A group of people who love the camp as much as I do banded together and formed "The Friends of Camp Little Notch," an organization to save the camp and restore it to being used for programs. Perhaps one day I will be able to sit at Green Cathedrals again and share it with my family.

When I went to college, I again looked for people with whom I could be myself, where I felt that I fit in.  I found this in a wonderful group of women in the Phi Sigma sorority.  I never expected to join a sorority...I considered myself fiercely independent, not much of a partier, although I did enjoy a good party now and then, and I certainly didn't feel that someone who put me through hazing could suddenly become my "sister."  The Sisters of Phi Sigma shared my beliefs, welcomed diversity and had a strong sense of community and philanthropy.  As part of the Epsilon pledge class, we were the last class before the sorority became the Gamma Upsilon Chapter of Sigma Delta Tau.  After leaving Plattsburgh State I eventually lost track of most of my sisters, but the wonders of social media have reunited us.

As an adult, I still had a need to belong somewhere.  Growing up, my family wasn't really deeply religious--at one point my parents had considered joining the Lutheran Church, but declined when the pastor told them I would go to hell if I died because I hadn't been baptized.  My family didn't believe that God would do that to a five year old child, so we didn't frequent that church much after that.  My grandparents attended a Seventh Day Adventist Church, and I would go with them.  The people at the church were very nice, but they spent a lot of time talking about converting people in "third world" countries.  I never understood why people who were perfectly happy in their own beliefs needed to be converted.  As a teenager I began to believe that there is "someone" who hears our prayers, but that we all may have a different name for that higher power.  I began to consider myself spiritual, but not religious.  I hadn't found a religion that I could embrace, because every religion I looked at seemed to believe that their way was the only way to heaven.  I also had issues with most organized religions' views of marriage equality.  In fact, it was while I was looking for a church that supported marriage equality--as an entire religion, I know that there are many individual churches that support marriage equality--that I found Unitarian Universalism.  A friend and I attended a Solstice Service together and I was intrigued.  I began attending services at the First Unitarian Society of Schenectady and found myself connecting with the people.  I found them to be a welcoming, inclusive congregation with a focus on social justice.  As a social worker, I felt right at home.

We all need a place where we belong.  Sometimes we need to search to find it, but we eventually will.

Purging and Discoveries

As Wayne and I prepare to become foster (and potentially adoptive) parents, we have realized that there is so much to do.  We attended an informational session last week and learned about all that we have to do.  The classes won't start until September, and we can't start the application process until then, but we can start preparing for the home studies.  The good news is that our menagerie (5 cats and 2 dogs) doesn't preclude us from becoming foster parents.

What is currently our hobby room will need to become a bedroom.  It is full of books, comic books, collectibles and sports memorabilia.  This is a great opportunity for us to reorganize and purge. I am sure that there are papers I wrote in high school in that room in a box somewhere.  What will be really cool though is rediscovering the old toys and books that I had put away so long ago for my child.  I actually don't even know where those boxes are...it has been so long since we thought we would have a child.

We are actually planning to sell the house eventually.  It's a cozy place for us--and the pets--but it is really not designed for a family.  Suddenly we are thinking about school districts, day care, pediatricians and parks. And designing a welcoming, yet generic room since we don't know what age or gender child will be coming.  It's an exciting adventure!

¡ Viva Fiesta!

Fiesta started in San Antonio this week.  Wayne and I are, sadly, missing it.  We were able to attend  2 years ago and had an incredible time.  Every day there was another festival, parade or party.  I quickly became obsessed with the pastime of collecting medals--pins to represent specific groups or events.  It was my third trip to San Antonio, and I fell in love with the city all over again.  On each visit we learned a little bit more about the culture of the city--and the various cultures that contributed to the richness of the city.

It was funny, on our first trip to San Antonio, we sat on the plane next to a young woman who was flying home for a visit.  We asked her what she would recommend that we see and do, and she asked how long we were staying.  When we replied that we would be there for 5 days, she said that we would run out of things to do long before our vacation was over.  It is amazing how people don't always see the things their hometown has to offer...on each subsequent visit we find new things to experience, as well as repeating the old favorites we have discovered before.  Our favorite restaurant is the Guadalajara Grill in La Villita. Our second favorite restaurant is Mi Tierra, which is located in El Mercado.  Mi Tierra is open 24/7 and has the best pastries ever! All of these are within walking distance of the hotel that we stay on alongside the famous Riverwalk.  

There are still parts of the city that we haven't explored...they opened a new section of the Riverwalk after we left in 2009.  We always intend to visit the Japanese Tea Garden...but we haven't made it there, yet.  We have seen the Alamodome from afar, but haven't attended an event there.  San Antonio still holds a lot for us to discover, and we hope someday to call it home.  I just hope that we never believe that someone would be bored and find nothing to do during a week long stay!

Reflecting on my Great Grandma's Life

I was born in June of 1971...in October of that year, my great grandmother passed away at age 98.  Obviously I don't remember her, but sometimes I reflect on her life, and how incredible it must have been.  Just to think what happened between 1873 and 1971...amazing advances in all areas of life.  She was alive in 1903 when the Wright Brothers first flew at Kitty Hawk, and she saw man walk on the moon in 1969.  In 1873 a prototype for the typewriter was sold to Remington and Sons; in 1951 the Univac computer was sold to the US Census Bureau.  While she was a toddler, the telephone, phonograph and incandescent light bulb were all invented.  In 1893 the zipper was invented...prior to that, people had to struggle with buttons and hook and eyes.  I didn't get my license until I was 21...great grandma was 35 when the Model T came out.  I don't know how old she was when she got her license, but she drove well into her 90s.  Radio, television,  and TV dinners were all invented in her life time.

Great grandma saw horrible things, too: World War I and II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.  The Cuban Missile Crisis.  Born less than 10 years after the Civil War and the worst bloodshed of American soldiers in history, she lived to see the worst possible destruction as we developed and used the atomic bomb.  She saw great leaders such as JFK, Martin Luther King and Ghandi assassinated.

She saw the best of people, too.  Penicillin and the polio vaccine were developed during her lifetime.  Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier.  In 1964, when she was 91, the Civil Rights Act was passed.

Looking at the past 40 years, I know that many changes have occurred. Lots of amazing things have been invented and people have accomplished great things. Maybe it is harder to see when you are actually there, but I can't imagine anything being more incredible than the transition from only birds being in the air, to planes flying above, to people walking on the moon.  I hope that if I live to be 98 years old, that I will be able to look back on my life and marvel over what I have seen.  And I hope that I am still spry enough to be driving well into my 90s.

My favorite holiday...Super Bowl!

Yes, the Super Bowl! So, maybe it's not an official holiday, and yes, I am aware that my team, the Kansas City Chiefs were humiliated in the first round of the playoffs...but it's FOOTBALL and the last football I will see until August.

This is also the first year that I have had a real job so that I can take the Monday following the Super Bowl off.  Not that we drink a lot...we aren't even going to (or hosting) a party this year.  Once upon a time I would decorate the house, break out the football shaped bowls, make football themed hor d'oeuvres and deserts and invite a bunch of friends over.  In our old age, we have become more subdued.  Just us and the dogs and cats, Weight Watchers approved snacks and lounging around in comfy clothes.  Hey...it's a holiday!

Welcome to my blog!

So, I already have a blog for my migraines, but sometimes I want to talk about other things in my life, or random thoughts that pop into my head.  So, I created a second blog for the randomness in life.  Welcome...and enjoy the ride! :)