So, why is it important to "go high?"

In a speech on July 25th, 2016, Michelle Obama spoke about how their family had (and has) responded to criticisms of Barack. She said, “When they go low, we go high.”

In a Time Magazine article, she talks about how “going high” doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the pain or frustration. It means that you work through it to try to better understand someone’s perspective. She, notably, writes, “When I say, ‘go high,’ I’m not trying to win the argument.”  

That’s the part that gets me. I really dislike losing arguments. I really dislike the person I become when I argue because...I rarely lose arguments. However, in winning arguments, I sometimes lose respect for who I want to be as a human being because of the tactics I've used.  More often, I just walk away. 

Here is where I might lose some people, but please hear me out. It drove me bat shit crazy to see the “Not My President” bumper stickers when Obama was president. Like, “Ya dingledoos. It doesn’t matter if you agree with him or not, he is your president.” So….now the shoe is on the other foot. I will say it is a little different because Obama won both the electoral vote and the popular vote, while the current president only won one of the two. However, we can rip into the electoral college in a different post. 

While I disagree with the vast majority of what our Dingledoo in Chief says, does, reflects, represents, etc, he is still my president. I don’t agree that children are still in cages. Yeah, remember that? I don’t agree that there are “very fine people on both sides.” I don’t agree that he owns stock in and keeps pushing hydroxychloroquine as a remedy for Covid-19. I don’t agree that he has off-handedly created a medical environment where the people who need it for actual autoimmune diseases and malaria are having a difficult time getting their prescriptions filled. I don’t agree with his disbelief in science and reality. I don’t agree with his inability to be honest. 

However, he is still my president. He was elected by a minority of people with an electoral college majority. I do not, I repeat, DO NOT want him to be my president for another four years. 

I have found it so, incredibly difficult to “go high” when he is abusing his power, green-lighting disgusting human tragedy, and actively killing our planet. He evaded removal from office because the senate majority leader refused to have a real trial in the senate. He has doubled down on his border wall and has turned suspicion toward Asian Americans. It is so much easier for him to blame those who don’t look like him for his feckless leadership and inability to control...anything. He has revoked the Paris Climate Agreement. Our planet is dying, dude. There will be nothing left for you to rule if we don’t take care of it. 

The President has muddied the waters of trust so fully that any media that goes against what he says is “fake news.” Distrust in the media and pushing propaganda is a huge, giant red flag. His followers very rarely listen to anything that contradicts him. They often spout hate and ignorance and don’t support their opinions with facts based in real life. His followers listened to his pussy-grabbing tape and heard about the multiple sexual misconduct accusations, and said, “Yep, I am all in.” 

It is so difficult to “go high” because we are not even playing the same game right now. Progressives work toward bettering their people and their base. They have a moral obligation to “do the right thing.” Because a victory fought in their trenches of dishonesty, hate, and ignorance is no victory worth winning. The President’s followers are so entrenched in his rhetoric that trying to have conversations with them hasn't gone anywhere. Hasn’t “moved the ball forward.” So, what do we do?

It sucks. We are getting literally and metaphorically slaughtered. If he wins the 2020 election, our nation may be irreparably damaged. If he doesn’t win, our nation may still be irreparably damaged. He watered a chasm between the “Right Side of History” and the “Wrong Side of History.” It is now a canyon. We have to build bridges to allow people to cross.

We have to talk to single issue Republican voters. We have to talk to non-voters. We have to continue talking to Trump voters. We have to get people to give a damn. We have to rally around the common goal of progress. We have to vote like our rights depend on it. However, we  must respectfully engage in conversation with people with whom we disagree. We cannot think we are better than the people with whom we are speaking. We have to go high.

We have no idea what our future holds. We have no idea how our world will be shaped by the actions (and inaction) of our government. We have no idea what will be written in the history books. 

What we do know is how we acted. Were we fearless in standing up for what we believe? Did we do all we can for our homeless brothers and sisters? Have we protected our Black and Brown  brothers and sisters from people who deem themselves judge, jury, and executioner? Have we surrounded our Asian brothers and sisters who are not at all new to discrimination in this country?  Were we compassionate toward our Hispanic and Latinx brothers and sisters who are fleeing war torn countries? Were we kind to our neighbors?

Have we gone high when it is so, so much easier to go low?  

So, My Mom and I Talk About Important Stuff

So, my mom has been writing a blog about her musings, observations, and River Ramblings. Every once and a while she sends me a piece on which she'd like feedback. She sent me the first half of this piece, and it really spoke to me. I asked her if she wanted to collaborate, and I could add a different, personal layer on taking care of one another in regards to Mental Health. So, with no further adieu, here is the piece:

Mary: 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” 

A tremendous nod of appreciation and respect to Charles Dickens for this, one of the greatest opening lines in literature. Any genre, any time period.  I did not realize until just now doing research for this article that it continues on in an incredibly long and beautiful run-on sentence.

“it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair”

(yes, it even carries on a bit more)

I had hoped to say that ‘best of times, worst of times’ sums up my week.  And then I discovered the riches of all these contrasts -- each couplet adding layers of validation to my scattered and often diametrically opposed thoughts and feelings. 

Last week started with finding out our local library system was offering on-line reservations and a method for curb-side pick-up.  I spent two hours just choosing which books I wanted to request.  Perhaps a bit like getting lost in the book store, but I don’t know anyone who does that.  

And then Friday was my pick-up day, I was so excited!  I told some friends at work it felt like the super nerdy joy Steve Martin displayed as he cried out, “The new phone book is here, the new phone book is here.”  I got home and paged through my treasures; three historical fiction books and a literary work by Walter Mosley.  Then, as I tried to choose which to read first, the words of Mozart in the movie “Amadeus” came to mind.  He was trying on wigs and excitedly proclaimed, “They are all so lovely, I wish I had three heads.”  Can you tell, I was really, really excited to have these books! 

I had been reading on my Kindle since the ‘safer at home’ order started.  A wonderful gadget, but it is no match for the tactile delight of turning pages and brushing your hand across a glossy cover.  I chose to start with a historical fiction set in the mountains of Eastern Europe during WWI.  The main characters were a doctor and nurse in a field hospital.  Beautifully written with exquisite prose, complex characters and well-developed plotlines.   However, reading about rapid progression of illness to death from typhus, the endless battle to save lives with very little equipment and medications, and the bickering and in-fighting amongst the decision makers was not exactly uplifting or an avenue to escapism these days.

Which led me into the worst of times.  That story plunged me into such feelings of gloom and melancholy.  I know my dark times are like the brightest day for some that battle depression and other mental health issues.  I know our current battle with Covid-19 has worsened these conditions for so, so many people.  And I know mental health care in our country is not given the respect and resources needed.  Mental health conditions, addictions, and substance abuse are an epidemic in their own right, and have been for some time.  And I pray for all those that are fighting these battles even more fiercely than ever before.  But to all those screaming for flinging open the doors of our society as a solution to the mental health crisis running along with the virus crisis, I suggest shut the front door.   A more lasting solution is for us as a society to take an honest look at mental health care in America and make some necessary changes.  We can do better. 

I had been struggling with what to write next and pointedly avoided the keyboard.  I felt I had no funny quips or ‘rah-rahs’ in me.  I feel, though, there are many of us that experience this roller coaster of emotion within short amounts of time.  The goal of this piece began as an invitation to myself and each of us to acknowledge and accept whatever range of feelings we have and when we have them.  Very often though, it seems the writing itself sets the path.  Just today, I saw that May is Mental Health Awareness Month.  I’m thinking that was the muse whispering in my ear.  I’m grateful for the direction.  I pray we are all kind to ourselves and others.  Especially to those that are in most need of our kindness and care.  

Katie: 

My mom beautifully pens, “I pray we are all kind to ourselves and others.  Especially to those that are in most need of our kindness and care.” Kindness is truly the only way through. True compassion for, true faith in, and true love for one another is the only thing that gets one through. 

In the past, I have been pretty open about having high functioning anxiety. I don’t always seem like I am ready to explode, going a million miles a minute, or envisioning scenarios that put me in positions over which I have no control. I don’t always seem like that. But, I promise you, it is there, right there under the surface.  That is what high functioning _________ looks like. You fill in the blank. 

It looks like, “I can’t break down because if my kids see me cry, they’ll know something is wrong.”

It looks like, “The world was literally on fire, and I can only focus on the fact that my baseboards are dirty.”

It looks like, “Yeah, yeah, no, everything is fine.”

Anxiety, Depression, OCD, looks different on everyone. I am high-functioning. The way in which my anxiety manifests itself is seen as a boon to my work and my community. Others wage different wars with their demons. I cannot speak for those. 

I don’t want pity. I don’t want indifference. I want recognition that everyone is carrying something heavy. 

We are going through global trauma right now. I want everyone to know that just because someone else’s “stuff” is heavier than yours doesn’t mean that your “stuff” isn’t heavy, too. 

This is truly the worst of times. We are in a global pandemic. There are not enough equipment, supplies, or staff to keep our nation, our world, safe. There are people with Covid-19. There are still people with cancer. There are still people with heart conditions. There are still people with depression and anxiety. ‘We are not all in the same boat, but we are certainly in the same storm’ (Damian Barr).

That is the place in which we rejoice. That is the place where we must become one human race. We have got to weather the storm together to welcome the rainbow. And, we can only do that when we support one another regardless of age, race, ability, class, religion, sexual orientation, or, yes, even differing political persuasion. 

As people united, we will not be divided.  And, that, my friends, that will be the best of times. 

So, I knew dementors caused this fog

As a teacher, an educator, and a guide, I am called to help children understand the abstract. I am called to show them why 2+2 equals 4. I am called to encourage children to explore root words and etymology. I am called to help children see information in a new way, a way of which they perhaps hadn’t thought before.

I am called to help children understand the intangible, that which cannot be sensed. I am called to show children unyielding love. I am called to offer children freedom and responsibility.

I am also called to show children hope. Hope for their future. Hope for their present. Hope they understand their past.

I am called to be a balloon that can only rise. I am called to be a positive spectator of children’s learning and understanding. I am called to show up for my children when no one else seems to.

And, right now, right now, I am deflated. I have nothing inside of me to give.

There was a moment of hope between 10:00 a.m. and 11:40 a.m. when my friend posted about calling Thom Tillis, a Republican senator from North Carolina, to perhaps sway his undecided vote. Almost everyone in my program called immediately. There was a chorus of “Vote No for Betsy DeVos” and “As a teacher, I implore you to vote no for Betsy DeVos.” There was a lighthearted feeling, a moment of activism in our grueling schedule. It felt like there could be a chance. People called from Vietnam, South Korea, all over Wisconsin showing up for our educators, for our children, and for the Senate Democrats who spoke all night trying to convince one more person to cut ties with their party.

Our children are not Democrats. Our children are not Republicans. Our children are amazing beings who yearn for knowledge, meaningful work, and adaptation into society. It is irresponsible that so many Senate Republicans put party over country. It is deplorable that they put party over children.

By siphoning funding from public schools, the quality of education will drop because they no longer have the already feeble funds to run a school. It will widen the poverty chasm. It will privatize schools. Schools will become businesses that can “let go of” under-performing children to boost their scores to receive more federal funding.

Children have a right to public education. The government has a responsibility to provide the highest quality of education they can for public schools. I am so, so, so tired of people who have never stepped foot in a classroom as an educator making decisions that affect our children so directly. I would love for Betsy DeVos, as our new Secretary of Education, to come to public schools, to hear our needs, and to make a plausible plan that respects educators. But more importantly, she needs to make a plan that respects our children and their vast intellect. They deserve a Secretary of Education who will fight for them not against them. They deserve people who will show up for them. They deserve people who will stand up for them. They deserve people who will do everything they can to give them the best education possible.

Right now, though, I am out of hope. I have none of it left. Please, join me in representing that which is best for our children. Together, maybe, we can make the difference our children deserve.