The Ostrich Syndrome

BEFORE YOU READ:  Don't feel you have to comment, particularly if you have nothing constructive to say, or can't take constructive opposition to your views, or get hot under the collar and forget this is not your page!  I'll delete, without notice, any comment which I find to be offensive to me, and that can run the gamut from trying to belittle me or my opinions to doing the same to anyone who chooses to respond here.  Take the chip OFF your shoulder before you begin to read, please, or else give this one a pass!  Thank you!

You know, every now and again, people make my blood really boil, especially when they spout prejudice while pretending to themselves and others that they are being entirely reasonable and objective. My impulse is to argue with them, to pick apart their "reasonableness", but in the final analysis, what's the point?  Some people choose a side and stick to it no matter what, and I've discovered that the older we get, the less tolerant and the more bigoted we become.  We have just learned how to mask it better and pretend better that we are listening to others and entertaining their point of view. It's a sham, believe me.  None of us older ones is really listening to anyone else, and the only ones who are probably even HALF listening are the young people, whose extremism is NEVER hidden, but who swing more easily from one extreme to another.

Maybe it's the human condition to be that way, eh? We begin life as "out of the closet" bigots/extremists, and evolve into closet ones, to further our agendas, whatever they may be.  I find myself as intolerant of these people's views as they are of mine and others'.  I am more than a little bit tired of them and of their negative energy.  They're a drag, man!  Seriously!

This isn't a rant about racism, per se (though what I've said here may be related to it), but this song is as good as any other for exposing an ugly truth about us human beings.  And there's no plausible deniability ... just a terrible fear in some of us to be exposed as bigots.  To quote from the song, "It's a touchy subject! Bigotry has never been exclusively white!"

If you read it on Kittigory...

(...give this a pass.  Maybe this isn't a rant, but it sure reads like it!)

In a thoughtful, even melancholy mood, and wondering about a host of things.  For example...

1.  If I die, what is my legacy?

--  Been trying to decide.  Do children count?  If so, I'll be leaving four behind to grace the world with whatever their gifts and talents are.  And if people in general count, then maybe the kids I've taught -- who remember me with fondness, who appreciate what I did when I tried to show them how to love the language and the books, and the power of the word -- maybe they are my legacy, as they share what I have taught them about passion and love with the people they come in contact with.  If my legacy is about my impact on others, then the people here and offline who care about me, who share their lives and love with me -- they are my legacy, if they give love away, as I do.

2.  What is my value to others?

-- I can't speak for others, of course, but I can speak of my perceptions of their (and your) behavior toward me, and how I interpret it.  So, if I were to go by my family and offline friends, I am worth hugs and kisses, homework help, a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, help with lesson planning and classroom management, a fountain of information, a reliable daughter/sibling.  To my true friends on here, like Tom, Babs, Barb, Tina, and Frank, I am worth your kindness, your concern, your faithfulness, perhaps even your love.  

-- To the people -- well, only men, really -- who judge me by the erotic stories I write, and make assumptions about who I am and what I want, I am a hole or two or three, a mind to fuck (pardon the vulgarity, but it suits this context!), words to jerk off to, a toy to seduce and use for sexual pleasure.  I'm not "worth" much to them, am I?  Good thing I know better...

3.  Whom do I trust?

-- *sigh*  I know you expect me to say I trust my family and those friends I have known forever. Perhaps I do, but trust is very hard for me.  Too many people have thrown my heart back in my face, probably because they don't see my true worth.  So the jury is out on this one, most of the time.  There is always a part of me that stands in reserve, watching over things, assessing and weighing, and ready to pull me back if it feels unsafe.  

4.  Have I done enough?

-- I am 53 years old.  What have I done with my life?  I've only ever had two jobs -- teacher and White Castle slave.  I love to write, but after all these years, and all this writing, nothing is complete.  Nothing is published.  I love to study, but after twelve years, I don't have that Ph. D. I started out trying to get.  I am one oral examination and a dissertation away from a degree I have wanted since I first became an undergraduate student in Jamaica, West Indies.  And I can't seem to find the will, or the time, to figure out how to do it now.  It's been too long -- getting a Ph. D. takes between 7 and 10 years -- and they will likely show me the door if I try to go back to finish it.  And there's a part of me that worries that I can't hack it anymore, that I don't have the academic or mental wherewithal to pull off my dream degree.  That is one scary thought!  

And I am also worried that when I retire from the New York City Department of Education in two more years, I will not be able to do enough to help with the bills, and that I will not find anything else to do that fulfills me, aside from write...and we have already discussed my inability, it seems, to finish anything I begin to write.

And if I take the less selfish thought track, and consider what I have done for others, it seems I haven't done enough there, either.  My sons never finished college, though now they are trying to get back on track.  My older girl is burning the candle at all ends, and doesn't understand that she needs to balance her endeavors so she doesn't burn out before age 25.  My youngest is giving me the kinds of headaches her older siblings never gave me, and making me wonder what sins I have committed for which I am now paying. My hubby is also misbehaving by not taking his health issues as seriously as he should.  I really don't think I have the intestinal fortitude to do what I think needs to be done to whip my family into shape.

5.  Will it always be this way?

--  I know, I ask the hard questions, but when I'm blue, they all come crowding in.  It's overwhelming.  I can't help but wonder if the second half of my life will be as fraught with turmoil as the first, with the expected addition of the ills that attend old age.  I'm not saying I'm old, but I'm no longer young, either.  When am I going to catch a break?  When will I see a dream fulfilled, something that is important to me as an individual, and not just something important to the family?  

Should I just brace myself for more of the same, and leave some strength of mind in reserve for the unexpected "slap in the face" or "punch in the gut"? I've sort of lived my whole life like that, expecting the other shoe to drop...and it usually does, with alarming, depressing, and apparently inevitable regularity.  How do I make the smile with which I greet the world most days a true reflection of the smile currently absent from my heart? 

Don't you just LOVE coming to my blogs to be depressed by my emotionalism?  Sorry, guys!