Thinking ‘bout stuffYou may (or may not) have noticed that there was no newsletter in July. The month flew by, and by the time I was ready to sit down to write to you, my dear readers, it was already August! Last month was filled with all the usual life stuff and some big milestones, such as; Henry’s graduation party and enrollment to college at Southwestern Michigan College Sarah Mae Mae and her family visiting from Virginia to celebrate two of her nephews’ graduations. (Congrats to Max and Henry!) A trip to the ER for me again with a relentless episode of AFib (I’m better now). A family trip to the Obama Presidential Center in Chicago. I took the ACC exam and passed! Making me a certified and credentialed personal and executive coach. I now get to put cool letters after my name - Jessica Nelson, ACC (Who do you know that would benefit from coaching?) Wrangling stray kittens, trying to find homes for these precious little babies. Teaching Pilates twice a week now, on Saturdays and Wednesdays. It’s getting harder for you to avoid coming to see me with these additional options. (You can even choose an online option on Wednesdays.)
I’m sure there’s lots of other stuff too, but I’m getting old and it’s hard to remember what I did this morning, let alone what happened last month. So on to today’s main story. I spend a lot of time wondering what gets into people that makes them treat others disrespectfully or with a lack of dignity. I don’t have a definitive answer, because everyone has a different story. The one thing I can point to pretty confidently is that they have some need that is not being met. And they have some sense that behaving in such a way will somehow get them what they need. (It usually does not.) Then, something happened the other day that made me more curious about this. Chuck does a lot of work for non-profit organizations in the area. In their work, they often get to go to really cool events and talk to people from all walks of life and of all ages. The other day Chuck and I took a mini-getaway for our anniversary (celebrating 21 years of marriage this year) up in St Joe because they had to film and get photos from an event in Benton Harbor. In this case, a circus troop was teaching kids “social circus” skills. Which just means that they treat the kids with compassion and teach them how to keep trying while learning things like tumbling, aerial silks, trapeze and more. I tagged along for the gig because I wanted to soak up all the time I could with my honey. When we got there it was pretty chaotic. Kids were running everywhere and the noise levels were off the charts. For those of you who know me, you know I can get easily overwhelmed in a stimulating environment. But I kept my cool and was a good production assistant. We set up in a classroom to interview several of the kids about their experience with the week of camp. And as we were putting the equipment together, one little kid looked and Chuck’s nails and said, “Why are your nails painted like that?” Unflustered, I replied that Chuck liked pretty colors. The kid’s reply, “That’s for girls.” My reply, “Anyone can paint their nails.” His reply, “That’s gay.” Whew. Out of the mouth of babes, eh? To that, a kid sitting near heard it and said, “You can’t say that.” to the other kid. At which point the little guy kind of melted into his chair and said, “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” I assured him that we all have times when we say something we wish we hadn’t and we moved on with the interviews. Typically, this wouldn’t be something I would share with you, dear readers, but that wasn’t the only incident at this event. (By the way, the show the kids put on was incredible! They all did such an amazing job with their routines. I had tears in my eyes as a proud community mamma.) Anyway, while I was sitting in the crowd waiting for the show to begin, all the folks who were at the center that day were invited in to watch. A couple little girls (probably like 6 years old or so) sat on either side of me. They were so curious and asked me all kinds of questions. Then one of them looked me in the eyes and said, “Are you a girl?” I didn’t think much of it and just said yes. She wasn’t having it. She sat for a while and then said, “Are you sure you’re a girl?” At this point I turned to her, giving her my full attention and asked, “Why do you doubt me?” She paused and went silent. I offered, “Is it because my hair is short?” To which she nodded yes. So I told her that I liked having short hair and that girls can have any length of hair they like. She still seemed skeptical. Perhaps she intuitively knew I wasn’t “a girl” and my attempt to keep it simple by saying yes wasn’t the right answer. Who’s to say? As we were packing up and leaving, I mentioned to Chuck that these kids probably don’t encounter people like us very often. And by people like us I mean gender non-conforming people. Here’s what was different though. When these kids were questioning us, it didn’t feel like they were negatively judging us so much as they were genuinely curious about why we were the way we are. I didn’t feel the same malice or disrespect I feel when I read headlines or Facebook posts about trans or non-binary people and how they don’t deserve the same rights and dignity of their cisgender peers. These kids just wanted to figure out how to fit us into their world, which was different than ours. Maybe that’s what the grown-ups are doing too but they just don’t know how to do that in a kind way? Wouldn’t it be so nice if the grown-ups could do what the kids do? Rather than attack and judge anyone that is different, they could tap into their curiosity and ask questions? When was the last time you were so sure about how you stereotyped someone that was different than you? Do you tend to find facts to support your belief and double down on it? Or do you tend to get curious and genuinely want to know more about that person? Thanks for taking a moment to pause and think. We’re all in this together, friends. We gotta keep building a bigger “we” so that we can build a brighter future for all our kids, and our kids’ kids and beyond. Love you, Jess
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