Another Late Night

It's another late night at my graveyard shift job. This is where I usually get to blogging my good stuff. So here I am.

But what to blog about? Should I blog about the Utah Coalition Against Pornography Conference I attended today? About how any kind of social change in that arena has to take place through the federal government, and about how that frustrates me, and discourages me about the lack of backbone and moral fiber in our legal systems and society?

Or should I blog about the police officer who refused to shoot a man in Ohio, who he would have been completely justified in shooting - as the man was attempting a suicide-by-cop? Should I blog about how I get frustrated with all the biased media hooks, how they report the news that sells, rather than the news that matters?

Or should I blog about the "Hookers for Hillary" post Nathan found, which tells of a group of hookers in Nevada willing to offer some "additional services" for you if you'll vote for Hillary Clinton? (Starting to wonder if voting should be a right...)

But you know what? No. I don't want to talk about these things. These things are good pieces, but not tonight.

Tonight I want to talk about the painting that hangs over my desk, in my office, at work.

I've never really had a desk, or an office before. Back during one of my internships, I had a tiny table by the window, which barely had room for my knees to fit underneath, with a binder and a laptop on top. At the hospital, there were three of us crammed in a broom closet - hardly a private "office."

Now that I work at a care center, however... I have an office! I have two file cabinets and a massive wooden "power" desk. I have room for a chair, for my mini fridge, for a stack of my favorite psychology books. I have SO MUCH SPACE, it's remarkable! I have a diploma on the wall, two calendars, and two paintings.

But this one... This one's my favorite thing...

This hangs directly over my head, every day. Some beautiful... place... with two geese... I love it.

I've looked at those geese, the fenced balcony to the left, and wondered what inspired this artist to paint such a fantastic piece. Was he walking, one day, admiring God's winged creations, and thought, "Why yes. I should put those in a brown-toned Italian Villa."

Inspiring. Truly inspiring.

The blues, the browns, the flirtatious hints of red. You awe me, painter. You awe me. The beauty of this masterpiece is truly to be found in it's simplicity.

So let's be honest, that's really all I have to say about that.

The Secret Life

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is one of my favorite movies in the entire world. But seriously. Do you know it?

Walter Mitty is a boring guy who works his job at Life Magazine, developing photos. His life is so boring, that his imagination is vivid and wild. He imagines rescuing dogs from burning buildings, getting into epic street battles with his boss, and, of course, imagines himself the brave explorer with a Spanish accent, who woos the woman he has a crush on, in the office, with his roughness and his very own poetry falcon. Trailer

This is obviously not Walter Mitty's life, and yet, it is. These are the things he wished he had, the things he wished he was. In every one of his imaginations, we are shown a glimpse of Walter's goals, dreams, and the things he hopes for, the things he values.

What it must be like, to have such a secret life! (Not the kind where you have a second house in Montana, with a second family that your first family knows nothing about...) But a secret life! A secret world inside of your head! But... I wonder if we actually don't.

Though I've never imagined myself a mountaineer with a poetry falcon, I've done my fair share of imagining. I've rescued kids from terrible situations in epic fashion. I've befriended bikers, worked as a secret service agent, even had super powers. But I'm not even sure that the only secret lives we can live are the ones we live in our own imaginations, or in Montana.

I think most people have secrets about themselves, different sides of themselves, that others aren't aware of, because you don't necessarily show them. 

My first year of college, a friend of mine from high school was going through a crisis, and was talking to me - she wasn't sure what she should do about some such situation or other. It was obvious to me that what she needed was God's help. I told her, simply, that God would answer her prayers, if she asked Him what she should do, and I bore my testimony of prayer, and of God's love. Her reply has stuck with me. "I didn't realize you were so spiritual." We'd been friends for years, literally, but it was a side of me she hadn't had opportunity to see before.

The other night, working a graveyard shift, my BFF and boss, Karen, was staying late. She invited me into her office to watch a hilarious video - we watched it on repeat five or six times, laughing till there were tears. My co-worker, that I've worked with every other weekend for the last seven months or so, wandered into the office to see what all the laughing was about, and remarked, "This is a side of you I've never seen before, Grace." 

If you know me, you know I'm spiritual, you know I love to laugh. But all my coworker knew of Grace was that she was the quiet one, who sat in her chair struggling to keep her eyes open, wrote Sunday School lessons, or late night blog posts. The graveyard Grace rarely laughs. She's pretty serious. She's super tired. So he didn't know the laughing me.

What do we not know about people, from the faces they portray where we see them most? To assume that people are only what you see of them is akin to a baby's understanding of object permanence - other people only exist when you can see them.

This struck home to me, the other day, when Nathan and I were driving up to Salt Lake, to sign our new apartment lease. My husband used the word "ethos." 

He had to define it for me! I had no clue what he was talking about! Ethos? Apparently it's an Aristotle argumentative appeal to authority, or credibility of the author. And Nathan threw it out there, in our discussion, like he was using the word "strawberries." He just knew what it meant, and assumed I did too. Ethos!

Pondering on Ethos and my husband, I wondered how many people really know what Nathan's like. My husband can be quiet around people he doesn't know well, and so I wondered! How many people know that my husband is just as opinionated as I am, catches logical fallacies as fast as any master of debate, and wants to be a writer? How many people know that he was a genius at robotics in high school, and has done his fair share of studying architecture and design? How many people see his non-confrontational, often quiet demeanor, and make assumptions about him? How many people hear he's a CNA, and they stop right there. (There's nothing wrong with being a CNA, either. Heaven forbid. It just means that he likes to help people, too, in addition to being a smarty-pants!) 

How many people hear I'm a social worker, and make assumptions about what THAT means? Maybe they assume I'm an extrovert, or that I live to kidnap people's babies. I wonder how many people hear I'm a Mormon, and assume I'm going to be judgmental, or ignorant about the world and the different people in it. Maybe I'm digging a hole for myself, but I have to believe that people are more than any word you may use to define them. I have to believe that people are more than any given moment or belief.

If your cashier is slow, one day, and it irritates you, do you just see them as a slow person, or do you recognize that this person actually exists outside of this cash register, and outside of this Wal-Mart? Do you know anything about this person, how their day is going? Do you know what they are going home to, what that looks like? 

Perhaps I wonder about Secret Lives today because I'm starting a new job tomorrow, and I wonder what face they will see. Will I be Grace, the social worker, who is quite serious, painfully shy, terrified of the new job, or will I be Grace, the social worker, who loves people, who loves to laugh, who does her job, but does it with a smile on her face? I don't know. I don't know who I'll be tomorrow, how I'll feel, or which "life" I'll slip into. But I want to make tomorrow's life an honest one. After all, the life they see tomorrow may very well be the one they assume is ALL of me. First impressions stick. 

But maybe they shouldn't, so much. People are a wide assortment of feelings, experiences, thoughts, and beliefs. If they made a movie about your "secret life," what would we learn about you? What would you learn about me?  

Feminism and the Patriarchy

Sometimes I call Nathan "The Patriarchy." And then we wrestle, so that I can say I've fought the patriarchy. But he always wins. Not surprising.

I'm a feminist. I always have been. Which is scary, as so many conservative Christians are quite adamantly anti-feminist, and I would consider myself one of those, too. But, as I figure it, if people really knew what feminism was, they might find themselves feminists too.

The feminist agenda you hear about in the news is, more often than not, either liberal feminist, or radical feminist agenda. Did you know, though, that there are other types of feminists? And I, myself, am neither radical, and mostly not liberal, either.

Radical feminists want to do away with gender entirely. They think the family system itself is sexist. They're the ones who coined the term "patriarchy." They think men and traditional relationships are the cause of their oppression.

Liberal feminists believe that equal rights can be changed through law, and legal reform - they lean towards equality and "sameness" with men - I should be able to be a firefighter too! They also think women should be "liberated" in having abortions, etc.  However, they're also anti sexual harassment, etc, which is, for the most part, where I fall into this category.

There are other beliefs, about feminism, often overlapping, but a third category, where I relate the most, is called Cultural Feminism.

Cultural feminists believe that there ARE differences between men and women, and that those differences are essential. Instead of trying to be more like men, cultural feminists value the gentle kindness that women are more predisposed towards - not so interested in capitalism, which is all about competition. (They also believe that if the government were run by women, who behaved like your stereotypical women, the world might be a better place. And I can't disagree with that, because I've never seen it done. The Matriarchy?) They value relationships, cooperation, interdependence, sharing, peace, etc. They're usually not political, and just like to make changes individually, on their own.

So though some feminists are off their rocker, wanting to grow babies in technological bubbles, so that they don't have to feel like an oppressed woman with a uterus, some people are just feminists because they believe that you shouldn't abuse women, or assume you're better than them, because women have strengths too! In a religious sense, men and women are partners - opposites which complete each other, as a whole. Feminists merely state that we, as humans, need to remember this equality. Even though your CEO isn't a woman, and your wife stays at home with the kids while you bring home paychecks, you're not better than her. That's called feminism.

And so I'm a feminist. (I know, I know. You shouldn't sell your daughters as sex slaves, beat and rape your wives whenever you want to, etc. Her feelings are important too.) I'm a feminist.

So when my husband came back from his Priesthood meeting tonight, he told me about the talks they had given. And lets be honest, I got jealous, but mostly just confused.

How come Women's Conference was all about family, with soothing sentiments that, "You are daughters of God." and "You are vital to God's plan," and "Families are so important." where the men got talks about "Raise the Bar." "If you're still single - stop it!" "Fulfill your home teaching callings." "Stop worrying about looking religious - and actually just be a good person."

I'm getting pretty jealous that the men get talks, in their meeting, about things they can improve on, where women are just given comfort - not so much specific directions for improvement. Is it because women are less accountable, so aren't given detailed direction on how to improve? Or is it just because husbands, as presiders, are supposed to be passing this information down the line, helping their own families, by their own revelation and understanding of specific needs, know what to work on?

I imagine its the second. But what do you do when your husband doesn't lead?

We discussed this in depth.

Nathan hypothesized that, perhaps, sometimes men don't lead their families like they should because they hear so much of this radical/liberal feminist agenda, and they feel that, if they were to ever tell their wife, "Hey, you know, maybe you shouldn't wear that." or "Hey, you know, I think you're wrong, there." that they might be accused of being "the patriarchy," and just oppressing their wives. OR perhaps men just hear too much of women complaining about men!

How many women, do you know, who bash on men, or their husbands? (Plenty, here.) "He's lazy." "He doesn't understand anything." "I don't trust him." "Men don't do anything!" "Men are stupid." "Men are all in it for themselves." I hate to say it, but if people were saying that stuff about me, I probably wouldn't correct them in anything, or feel any reason to lead them, either! I'd be scared to try, when they so obviously dislike me!

But I think it's a vicious cycle, too. Because why are women complaining? Because the men aren't leading. Women get to resenting that the men aren't doing this that or the other, so she feels like she's got to pick up all the slack, gets mad at him, yells at him, or about him, and then he feels like the child in the relationship, and he continues to not lead, because he's scared of her, and she's mad at him for not doing enough, but he's not doing it, because he just wants to make her happy, and he doesn't want her to think he's bossing her around!

What drama!

So here it is, from a feminist. (Not a radical/liberal one, mind. Just a regular feminist.)

Men? We want you to lead. Men? When we complain, it's because we want you to be stronger. We want you to take over things more. We want you to take care of us. So we may be feminists, who are all about equal rights, and we might complain about how treatment of men vs women is unfair, and women aren't treated as well as they should be, but guess what? We still want you to lead. You don't have to run away from that! We want it, even though media pushes it that we women don't need you. We do.

In our culture, you preside in the home. We want you to take that position. We want you to enforce family prayers, family scripture reading. We want you to be the one who disciplines the kids too, who has the difficult conversations with family, who budgets, and reminds your wife when, perhaps, what she's saying or doing is wrong.

There's a reason men are given all the good stuff, in General Conference. It's because they're supposed to share it with their families, in the way their family needs it. But if you can't talk to your wife, how are you supposed to share it?

Feminists. I am one, but they've also screwed us over. All the loud ones, on the news, that is, tell men they can't correct women - it's not their right or place. But it's simply not true. We need you to talk to us honestly. You know just as much as we do, if not more, sometimes. We need you to talk to us, share with us your insights. Correct us as needed, and we'll do the same. Because we're a team.

When I tell you black and brown don't match, it's not culturally frowned on, but when you tell me that I shouldn't watch Married at First Sight, because it mocks the sanctity of marriage, I can ignore your counsel, and just assume you don't know anything? Not so.

Women, respect your husbands, and listen to them, which, by your nature, you're not always predisposed to do. Husbands, love your wives, and never be afraid to lead them closer to God.

Don't know if this blog post makes any sense, but it was my thoughts, tonight.