Rising to the Occasion of the New Supreme Court Decisions and Their Bold Interpretations

the new definition of marriage

The rulings leave in place laws banning same-sex marriage around the nation, and the court declined to say whether there was a constitutional right to such unions. But in clearing the way for same-sex marriage in California, the nation’s most populous state, the court effectively increased to 13 the number of states that allow it.

voting-rights-act decision

The decision in Shelby County v. Holder revolves around Section 4 of the Voting Rights Act, which establishes a "coverage formula" to determine which states and local governments fall under Section 5, and therefore need to get approval before changing their voting laws. The justices ruled that Section 4 is unconstitutional, and that the formula used for decades — revised and extended several times by Congress — can no longer be used to establish those "preclearance" requirements: "The conditions that originally justified these measures no longer characterize voting in the covered jurisdictions." 

I am not a lawyer or a policy analyst, but I am a mother, boss, taxpayer, tuition payer, wife, and female.

What those roles give me is the experience that knows and feels difference.  Whether it is the good old boys at work regaling us with chauvinistic stories of the past or nuns telling the girls that science was a waste of time or the people who still talk about colored folks, I know this feeling of difference.  And it doesn't feel good.

I think regardless of the law, the judges are saying that different doesn't feel good.  Whether the remedy to the difference is a 50 year old law to right a horrible wrong or whether the cancellation of the difference is a nullifying a state law, the effect is the same: NO DIFFERENCE.  There shouldn't be a difference, not to the blind eye of the law, not to the open eyes of the judges and not to the feelings of those that are not in the norm. +GayWeddings.com 

The judges are saying that difference does not have to be embraced, it doesn't have to be "guaranteed by numbers" and it doesn't license some and not others.  The judges are saying what every speaker on the gen Y generation says: Get Over IT.  They are different, they are staying, and soon they will be in the majority.  Technically, They already are.  Women have been different for a long time.

Different may not be acceptable to you, but it is not a reason to legislate the relegation of others to a lesser status.  The court is saying to the southern states, okay don't use the numbers to mandate difference.  Let the difference be in the voting booth.  I am nervous.  I don't trust that equal access is there all the time in Mississippi.   But I don't trust that it is there all the time in Minnesota or Michigan or Florida. 

When  the civil rights laws were passed, the people who needed protection were all considered black.  Now, the different people are African American, Muslim,  Jewish,  Irish American, gay, female, Hispanic American, Indian American, Haitian American, Colombian American, Mexican American, Chinese American, need I go on? +Equality Texas 

 They are as different from the 1965 act as can be:

"The chief justice concludes that times have changed: the formulas that govern singling out one state from another for different treatment, which once "made sense," have lost their relevance, and "nearly 50 years later, things have changed dramatically." 

"But history did not end in 1965. By the time the Act was reauthorized in 2006, there had been 40 more years of it. In assessing the “current need[]” for a preclearance system that treats States differently from one another today, that history cannot be ignored. During that time, largely because of the Voting Rights Act, voting tests were abolished, disparities in voter registration and turnout due to race were erased, and African-Americans attained political office in record numbers."

I am worried about the change in the Voting Rights Act and the absence of change in the Gay Marriage issue.  "If California becomes the 13th state to allow same-sex marriage, about 30 percent of Americans will live in jurisdictions where it is legal." says the decision on gay marriage.

So the court is saying that 70% of Americans live in a place of difference.  We are not yet to a place where we can be at least treated by the law as the same, whether or not our neighbors do that.  The court is placing that burden on the American people.  Do we want to be a place of difference.

And the court is saying that while the laws of 1965 are precious and were necessary for the time, that the time has come for us to stop the difference for all states, not just the few.  Again, the court is placing that burden back on the people of America.  Almost every southern state voted for the republican candidate in the last election.  But almost all the midwest did too.  And yet, what a difference there is in the white house.

Please check your heart and check your beliefs and check the future, because the nation called America is not the brave and free for some; it is the home of the brave and the free for all.  And I for one will embrace the court rulings and trust in the future.  And more importantly, I will not accept being treated or treating anyone different.

of the graduating daughter

In looking at my beautiful baby girl who could never wear clothes on the beach,
never met an animal (including reptiles)

she didn't love and thought dirt was a badge and paper never had enough space for her essays:  I say congrats Morgan.

 Job well done.

You turned the lousy high school experience into the lovely collegiate pursuit and graduated with honors.

I love you more and miss you a great deal.
 Every day.

 and I searched for songs to toast you and there is a list - of course there is a list...

 http://voices.yahoo.com/top-30-songs-dedicate-daughter-7942458.html?cat=25

But there was one, that did not show on the list and it is not the standard send off, but the warning type song.

The group is called Daughter, and the song Youth

And I love the part about being the lucky one.  Being in this world, across all nations as you want to be, you are lucky.  You have had a loving  family and enough money and a public education.  You have a wonderful heart and common sense and sense... of what is around you and whom. And Whom.

I know that you are struggling with what is next, but not me.  I trust you. I trust all that you are.  You are amazing and smart and beautiful and strong. You are passionate and love your animals and your garden and mass transit.  You supported Obama but not blindly and you care about the implementation and you object to the blind obedience.

You and the others of your generation are the best of the best. You have more education and the luxury of thinking about it.  You have the time to grow up and the time to ponder and the time to not judge and the time to rethink.

You have been more places by 17 than I at 55. You have a broader perspective and more tolerance and less judgement than anyone in my generation. You can make jokes with friends that don't insult and know with friends when jokes are not funny.

 You know the importance of the online communication and that abrupt words in email can hurt and that Facebook is forever, but not for everyone.  Twitter is only 140 bad characters and YouTube videos are now more than 15 minutes.

And yet.

You still want a graduate degree and to compete on horses at the Olympic level and to speak foreign languages  You still hold yourself to expectations that I never dreamed of.  You are truly amazing.

So here is to you my young daughter.  If you go to Cornell, or Portland State or Aachen, they are the ones blessed to have you.  They are the ones who should look to you and say why in this world of on line education should we be fortunate enough to have you at our brick and mortor?  They should look at you and say here is our future now and later.

If they are smart, they will look at you and see that they will never see all that you and your generation will be, but make it possible for you to be the next, the best, the bold, the edgy, the strong the weak, the timid, the future. Our future.

So the average elephant baby matures at age 70 and that means that now that humans live to 100, youth should last to 25 and adulthood should be 30.

And these are arbitrary numbers as are all things projected.  So enjoy your youth.  You can at least surpass the elephants.

rising to the occasion: of Something Else

rising to the occasion: of Something Else: My daughter recently cut her long tresses, blonde curly long tresses, to a Mohawk or an equivalent thereof.  She gave the long locks to wig...

of Something Else

My daughter recently cut her long tresses, blonde curly long tresses, to a Mohawk or an equivalent thereof.  She gave the long locks to wigs for kids.  But the change was shocking, tempting, inviting, regrettable  joyful, and changing.

Change continues to be hard for many and impossible for most.  Change is not tolerated well, even when it is positive.  My daughter's hair will grow, or she will cut it, but the change is hers to manage.  If she had chemo and the hair fell out, it would be a much harder change.  And definitely more difficult to manage.

Change is something that I personally excel in embracing.  New, technical, exciting, improving, shiny, fun are all words that I generally associate with change.  Nervous, scared, out of control, unplanned, harem scarem are all words that my son would use to describe the same experience.  He doesn't like surprises, even the good ones.  He likes predictable, measurable, planned.

So it is amazing to me that I am amazed when change at work is perceived as negative.  It doesn't matter whether the change is successful. And every time that I or someone else introduces something new, the response is the same: negative. Bad. Why?.

When I went to graduate school, I had lots of courses on change, but when it really matters, most people don't want to change or to manage change.  They don't accept it, they don't want it and they damn sure don't appreciate it. Like the movie Groundhog Day they want the same day over and over. Get up, go to work, go home, repeat.

So when the morale falls in the toilet for the change agents, the marketers, the accountants (yep, they change according to the rules) and the HR folks, who is the problem? why not them. not us. not anyone, except her. or him. or the government. or the stupid apple people or the wierd google plus people.

First impulse is to look for new jobs, second is to complain to your friends and look for a new job, third is to get mad and look for a new job.  Lastly, I think the true change embracers do what they do naturally, they embrace the search for a change, a solution.  So I am going to try to resist the temptation to complain and whine about the foot draggers.  I am going to lead by example and tell them over and over, like the lessons of kindergarten, that change can bring good things. Some change is good.  New things and approaches and products and classes help people stay interested and help companies compete.

But I will say this for the foot draggers, you at least gave me a topic to write about and that is a good change for me.

Doctor's point of view

Temple Grandin: Rising to be Compressed

Probably everyone has heard of TEMPLE GRANDIN, Ph.D. She is the amazing animal husbandry expert with autism.

"When I was age 3, I had standard autistic symptoms such as intolerance to being touched, inability to speak, tantrums, and stereotypic behavior. I would stiffen and pull away when people touched me, and I was oversensitive to both touch and sound (Grandin 1989a, Grandin and Scarino 1986) Magnetic resonance image (MRI) scans have revealed that my cerebellum is undersized, and I have a slight balance problem.  I will describe here a deep touch pressure device ("squeeze machine") that I developed to help me overcome problems of over sensitivity to touch, and that allays my nervousness. Reactions of other people to the squeeze machine, including children with autistic disorder and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) are also reported."   How Compression can help

There is so much in this little paragraph.  The symptoms, the intolerance, the imbalance and brain issues and the comfort of compression.

And that brings me to the comfort of compression.  The comfort I am speaking of it the compression of a hug, a touch, a squeeze of your arm.  The compression I am speaking of is the compression of life between generations, between work and family, between family and family.  It is compression of time and compression of love.

My mother has some things in common with Dr. Grandin.  Her memory is challenged and her cerebellum is certainly affected.  Her balance once challenged, has improved.  But her gait is definitely slow and wide.  She knows everyone and almost all fine details, but she struggles with time and sometimes place.  She knows who Marco Rubio is and what The Affordable Health Care Act means - at least as much as any of us do.

 So the compression in her case is the move to a retirement community.  She did not like any part of it, comparing it to jail and calling the residents inmates.  She felt trapped and alone.  She felt compressed, in a not good way.  She felt confined and "dumped" by her family.  Although we all visited every day, she felt duped and abandoned. She said we were plotting against her.  I felt the Betty Davis compression of Baby Jane.   I assure you the entire family weighed in on the support of my mother and she is better now for having  gone there.

The staff get her up every day and give her breakfast and medicine. They make sure she has a bath and they wash her clothes.  They prepare meals ( with choices I might add); and,they have healthcare, activities and music.  They also have my mother on the floor with the memory challenged.  Our healthcare system which is modeled after the industrial revolution of assembly-line care, is not staged for a little bit impaired. Its all or none.  Either you are on the memory unit or not.  I bet you, she is the only one on the third floor who knows who Rubio is.  He should go thank her.  She talks to everyone and repeats his name frequently. And his website is as dark and gloomy as her attitude!

The other compression that is ongoing is the emotion of the family.  She is mad at my father. My brother and I feel helplessly hopeful; my kids are asking if I have plan for my care.  We are all compressed to add the emotional support.  We all are adding in the stop off at the apartment to see Mom.  We all have so much going on: entering the peak of our working years, hoping for the peak of our retirement years.  

My Mother needs support, though not the all or nothing support.  She doesn't need to be in the memory care  full time.  She needs part time support to ensure her meds are taken appropriately and her daily upkeeps are done  timely.

She needs to have conversation and interaction and walks in the sunshine and porches for the rain.  She needs my father, her spouse of almost 60 years.  And he needs her. And the system isn't designed for a spouse with different needs.  Nope.  We have to compress the elderly in a box of convenience.  Did I address the issue of healthcare being stuck in the assembly line management style?  Oh yes, I did.  I say we should compress that idea, and use the Affordable Healthcare Act to change the way we treat people, and focus on their humanity alongside their medicare number.

Wish we had a research paper on the efficiency of providing what the client needs and not what is convenient for the provider. This is the quandary of the transition back to families with generations in the home (what a great idea that was) or the transition to real transition and not choices of block one or block two.  Imagine if we approached not only elder care, but education as a service for an individual and not for a giant system of mass production.

This sounds like a Ted talk community conversation  that I should hold.  Hello TedTalks, call me, I have many thoughts on redesigning "retirement".

So back to compression.  I had to travel out of town all week and guess what I am thinking of?  Who is going to see my Mother?!  The move to the retirement facility put her squarely in the path of my home to work commute.  I have seen more of my Mother in the last two months than I have in the last three years.  She is accessible and can be part of my day. She can be a smile on the way home and a hug at lunch. Compression of my day  includes seeing her on my way home.  Compression of how many years into a few minutes of a visit. I thought the days of a her being in my life had changed permanently.  But luckily for all of us, she is improving.  She still needs help. She still needs her whole family.  And my Father needs some compression too.  Because sometimes compression is a good thing.  Indeed a good thing.

Thank you Temple for helping us understand that.

Rising to the Occasion of Three?

Staring at this blank page, I wonder how to tell you the difference between a fabulous trip and a fabulous trip.  But there is a difference.

The last two trips with my daughter, we went off to Seattle and then to San Francisco.  It was girl out extravaganza   We went everywhere on foot, bus and bike.  WE exhausted each other and then exhausted each others' ideas.  Foot travel, cocktails, scenic views, heights and horses.  Just a meal difference in mood and outlook.  I can tell you that there is nothing I treasure more than the stressed out, fun loving, active, challenging cross country weekend with my daughter.

Flash forward. First trip with number one son and the daughter.  Dynamic changes. Winds shift.  Fun happens without me, then around me, but not me. Fun happens with me, with them, with the food.  But then, fun shifts and there is fun with one and not the other, and fun with the other, and not the one.

Though the energy required is the same, the effort felt is more with three.  Not just three.  Three with one male.  I can't help but think if it was three gals, we would be arm and arm down the street, moving our legs in unison, this way and that.  The swag, the sway, the together movement of female time. But the guy, oh the guy is there, even if he is the brother.

And then there is the dynamic of the MOM.  Yes, adult children do return to the children in the presence of the MOM.  Children return to competitive persons.  Mom's return to the boss.  The people who were three flying separately across a nation to be together, seem farther apart than three planes in the air.  The past, the present, the gender, the gap, the competition, the time change.

Not the most relaxing weekend across the country that I have had, but certainly one to remember.

The capitals, the space needle, the five course wine pairing dinner (oh the five course dinner), the stroll on the campus of PSU and the shopping at the used clothing store.  The brother takes the sister to the mountain, through a town named Corbett and the water falls.  The brother goes with the sister to Powell's Bookstore in Portland.  The brother follows the sister to the campus and the fresh produce music art filled student fun market and the mass transit that is everywhere.

But then there are three and there is distance and space that wasn't there before.  Burgers bring us back together. Simple burgers and fries.  So american.  Then ice cream.  Too much ice cream. And some hurt feelings and some great laughs.

And I am reminded of the joy of motherhood, the wonderful human beings that are my children and the gift that they give me of their time.  Frustration, tension, trust to be that way.  Love no matter what.

Rising to another cross country weekend.  Love it all!

Rising to the Occasion of Motherhood

God

I am the kind of mother who touches her children every night and prays to god in heaven to make them smarter, braver, stronger, and better than the way they were the day before.

I ask that they be kind and direct and courteous and love their parents.

I ask to make them better at what they love and put music in their hearts in the morning.

I pray to make me a better mother, but if only one prayer can be answered, I want god to care for them.

I am the kind of mother that weeps when they fail.

I shake when they are on stage and I gasp when the spaces of breath are too long.

I am the kind of mother who waits patiently for them to figure out the math.

I am the kind of mother who says wipe it up, I’ll make more.  It doesn’t matter.  Breathe.

I am the kind of mother who explains boys don’t get it as fast as girls and that the pamphlet forgot to say ask permission to touch any one under any circumstances.

I am the kind of mother who said you can save yourself for marriage.  It is always an option.

I am the kind of mother who says you will need your brother one day don’t talk to him like that.

I am the kind of mother who cries secretly, fearing their future and praying I did enough.

And ten years after writing these words, I am still praying.