Oh, The Humanity!...

If you’ve been anywhere near a television or the internet in the last few days, chances are that you’ve heard (and probably formed opinions) about Snowpocalypse 2014 in Atlanta and all over the south.  Meanwhile, bigger, more important things are happening and I wish everyone would stop talking about What Went WRONG!?!?!? And start focusing on everything that went RIGHT.

I’m one of those people who abandoned a car on an impassable roadway.  My sister’s normally 10-minute commute lasted 6 hours before she gave up and walked the rest of the way home.  My mother spent more than 8 hours in her car before finally, thankfully safely, arriving at my home for a toilet, food and bed (in that order).  I have friends who didn’t make it home at all and spent the night in their cars on the highway, there were children who spent the night in their school gymnasiums because their parents couldn’t get to them.  People took shelter where they could and improvised in whatever ways possible.

If you’re far away and seeing this on TV, with newscasters tsk-tsking the Powers That Be for letting this happen and laying out their vision of what should have been done, you may be nodding your heads in agreement and laughing at “those poor dumb southerners” who can’t handle a little snow. 

I understand the rush to judgment.  I do.  I’m not interested in discussing the politics of it all, other than to say that more people are “in charge” than the 2 faces you see on CNN and none of them were able to shove egos aside and communicate with one another.  I don’t think any of them have a direct line to Mother Nature so while they certainly knew ahead of time that weather was coming, no one could absolutely know how bad/hard/fast it would arrive.  When it was time to make the important calls, my belief is that everyone remembered those times when they did react and nothing happened so they were mocked, criticized and lost re-elections.  The ego is like an elephant.  It never forgets.

As for “poor dumb southerners” who can’t handle a little snow, I will just say this:  I have lived many places, and driven in many conditions - from hurricanes to blizzards.  This was not about snow.  What happens in the south doesn’t happen everywhere.  When it snows, it melts the moment it hits pavement.  When people drive, it becomes slush.  Then it cools quickly and that liquid immediately becomes ice.  I’m not talking about “patches” of ice.  No.  A Zamboni driver could comfortably travel for miles on the solid sheets that have developed.

Now, imagine those miles and miles of solid ice sheets draped over the steep hills and sharp curves that make up the landscape of Georgia, of Atlanta, of the south in general.  And on those hills, on those curves, there are forests of trees that ensure that sunlight will not break through to the ice, meaning there is no respite in sight.  That’s what “a little snow” does to us.  No amount of experience, no amount of advice, no amount of luxury 4-wheel-drive can conquer that.

So that’s the explanation for what you saw on tv or the internet from the comfort of your homes.  Let me tell you what you didn’t see.

When Human Beings are faced with challenges, their HUMANITY shines through.  That’s not always a positive, but MOST of the time it is.   What I believe – fully, completely, 100% - is that human beings are, at their core, mostly really good.  When people LET them be good, they can be great.

We poor dumb southerners got into our cars early, thinking that was the responsible thing to do:  to get home and off the road before it gets worse and becomes a problem.  I think we were all surprised to see just how many people shared our thoughts and how much of a problem it had already become.   I had a way to go, and knew it would not be an easy trek.  Almost immediately, cars were sliding.  Trucks were sliding.  Everyone was sliding.  But you know what?  Everyone was being patient.  Everyone was focused.  Everyone was careful.  I didn’t see a single accident happen.  Because we weren’t clueless southerners at the wheel, we were simply human beings doing the best we could, mindful of what was happening with all of the other human beings around us.

I won’t pretend that I didn’t enlist every angel and guide I could to lend me a hand, but I got pretty far.  On the last major hill, it became clear that I wasn’t going any farther.  After an hour on the side of the road, and many lame attempts at movement, I grabbed a blanket from the backseat, secured the car, and began walking (in not exactly appropriate for the weather shoes) in the direction of home.  I thought that if I could just get a little closer, my husband and kids could come and get me, but I could manage the entire walk if necessary.

I got about 30 feet before I heard “Ma’am!  Do you want a ride?”  There stood a teenage boy, about 16 or 17, offering to rescue me.  He was joined by another.  They offered to push my car to get it going.  Then they realized that wouldn’t be safe, so I accepted the ride and was led to a man waiting in a front-wheel drive vehicle, ready to save the day.  While I sat in the toasty warm backseat, I learned that he was the uncle of one of the boys.  His sister asked him to go pick up his nephew and friend from their Catholic high school and he saw how many people needed help along the way.

This man sent those two young men out to push and assist numerous cars.  He coached them on how to approach the drivers, what to say and how to guide them to safety.  Then he carefully drove me to a safe place to await my husband.  He’d have taken me all the way home if I let him but I didn’t want to put him out any more.  I thanked them profusely and gave my gloves to one of the boys who was rescuing damsels in distress with his bare hands.

I know that when they left me, they surely helped others, because that was where their hearts were focused.  That man taught those boys more about humanity than any classroom could ever teach and I told my girls all about them so they, too, could understand that people can be so good.

Once home, I learned that my sister was still out there.  My mother was out there.  My sister was nearly home when she found a safe place to park and walked the rest of the way.  My mother turned around so she could come to my house when it was clear she’d never make it to her own.  She’d been in the car for hours, she was tired, she was hungry.  She had to pee, dammit, so when we realized she was very close to us, my husband and I thought we’d go meet her ½ mile away and bring her home.  We didn’t have to go far to realize we were in too deep and not going to get to her.  Just as we (husband and children) were about to abandon a second car, three men in a big truck came to pull us out. 

These young men said they were home watching the news and thought they could go out and help people, so that’s what they were doing.  They got us going, we thanked them, and they went on to help others.  A few blocks and another steep hill later, we realized we weren’t going to reach my mother.  So we began to walk back home until a familiar pick up truck came along and insisted that they drive us home.  Junior, Moses, and their friend-whose-name-suddenly-escapes-me, were sweet, kind and dedicated to helping anyone who would let them.

Meanwhile, social media was lighting up with people reaching out that they could help, that they knew someone who needed help, or that they needed help themselves.  My friends walked through the ice and snow to retrieve a mutual friend who was stranded at a nearby hotel (with no rooms at the inn) and give her warm respite for the night.  Similar stories popped up all over my news feed.  People who had the luxury of being home loaded up wagons with water and food and delivered it to people stuck in their cars.

A facebook page dedicated to those in need during this chaos took off and people reached out to help wherever they could.  Strangers were brought in to become friends.  Businesses kept their doors open for those seeking shelter for the night.  Connections were made to get people what they needed.  Human connections.  And isn’t that the point of it all?

Over the next days and weeks, news casters will be talking about something else.  Politicians will move on to a different crisis for which to shift blame.  Snowpocalypse 2014 will fade to a distant memory and will only come up as a Remember When during the next time.  But *I* will not stop talking about the important part:  The Humanity.

I won’t forget the Dentist and the Catholic school boys.  I won’t forget Moses and Junior and their friend (and I’ll probably remember his name when I finish typing this).  I won’t let my kids forget about all the human beings who reached out to help other human beings simply because they could. 

For anyone who’s read this far, I hope that you’ll remember, too.  Names aren’t important but the hearts and the deeds are and if you look beyond the political blame game, you will see hundreds upon hundreds of similar stories.  (see link below for examples) Human connections, helping where they can, accepting help when they need it. 

 

Humanity at work.

 http://www.buzzfeed.com/kimberlyt/the-silver-lining-of-atlantas-snowpocalypse-2014-w6l

 

Curse Of The Capable Woman...

The other day, I attended a Chamber of Commerce luncheon for women executives.  This is not a thing I’d normally do for a good time, but it was my first week at my new job and I thought it would be a fine way to get my foot in the door with some people I may need to know down the road.  At the very least, there’d be food!

I entered the room prepared to cringe at forced female bonding.  Roaring is just not my thing and I don’t need anyone to tell me that I am valuable or worthy even though I’m a woman.  Thankfully, it wasn’t as “Rah-Rah-Ladies” as I feared and I’m glad I went, if only for the handshakes that came from it.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t occasionally roll my eyes at Words Of Empowerment from the keynote speaker, but it wasn’t terrible.

I suppose it has more to do with my upbringing than anything else, but I’ve never struggled to find my footing as a woman in the world.  I’ve always known that I could do whatever I wanted to do and never felt that I had to fight to prove it to anyone.

Certainly, I know that my grandmother was born in a time when women were not permitted to vote.  When her rights were at last given to her, she used them.  She voted.  She drove a car when few other women of her time even attempted.  When the Catholic church decided it was OK for women to wear pants, she never turned back!  And when I was a child, she told me I could do anything.  She believed it, so why wouldn’t I?

I know that my mother, and women of her generation, went to work with the understanding that a lecherous boss would likely grab her ass or make lewd comments and that she would only go so far or get paid so much.  She also told her daughters that they could do whatever they wanted.  She believed it, so of course we did, too.

So my sisters and I – and most of the women of our generation – didn’t ever think that we  Couldn’t or that we Shouldn’t because we were female.  We learned our history.  We remembered the importance of what happened before us.  It’s important that we know it and appreciate it, but it just isn’t our burden to carry.

As a result of those who forged the path before us, I’m very secure in who I am and what my capabilities are.   The women in my family are Strong, Independent and Capable of taking care of themselves and the women that I choose to surround myself with are also strong and capable.  That’s why we’re friends.

So there, in that room full of women who possibly needed to be reminded of their value, I couldn’t help wondering how many of them have The Curse.  My grandmother had The Curse.  My mother had The Curse.  Many of my friends have The Curse.

I’m talking about a little known ailment that plagues strong, independent, self-sufficient and capable women all over the world.  It strikes at the worst possible times.  I don’t know if there’s an official scientific or Latin name, but in my circle, it’s known as The Curse Of The Capable Woman or CCW Syndrome.

My grandmother was about as Capable as any woman could be.  She was strong and healthy and did it all.  She did the family laundry in an old-school ringer washer in the basement of their home and then carried the wet laundry up the stairs and hung it on the line outside.  Sometime in her mid-90s, she told my grandfather that it had become too much for her to handle.  He responded by telling her that all she had to do was carry it up one step at a time: Lift, rest, step up, lift, rest, step up.    As you might imagine, this response did not please my grandmother.

Now, my grandfather wasn’t trying to NOT help her.  She asked for help and he offered advice that he sincerely thought was helpful.   I can’t really blame him for getting it wrong.  It’s not as though he had a lot of practice answering her pleas for help.  In their seven decades of marriage, she made it very clear that she could do it.  Whatever “it” was.  So when the time came for her to ask for assistance, she was not taken seriously.  He didn’t know how to respond.  My grandmother suffered from The Curse Of The Capable Woman.

I don’t know that my mother intended to be so strong and independent and capable, but fate made it necessary.  We children knew she could do whatever needed to be done.  Men in her life loved her for her ability to handle anything…until those rare occasions when she needed to ask them to lend a hand.  Then she was met with blank stares, slack jaws, and little action.  My mother suffered from CCW Syndrome.

It takes a strong man to partner with a Capable Woman.  They have to learn when to accept “I can do it” as truth.  If she says “I can do it”, she means it.  Or at least it means she really wants to try to do it herself.  For a secure and confident man, I think that’s probably an easy thing to figure out.  The problem lies in those very rare moments when she says “I can’t do this”, “I can’t do this by myself” or “I need help with this.”

Somehow those statements don’t register.  They go unheard, misunderstood, or – at some times – taken as a joke!  Honestly, you can’t blame a guy for not getting it.  If his partner has conditioned him to know just how completely capable she is, there’s no natural instinct to believe she might not be.

I’ve lectured my friends about the Curse.  Many of them are afflicted.  They are women in control of their lives.  They have good, loving and supportive partners.  Then that moment arises when they need help with something.  They wrestle with their own pride and ask for help.  And they don’t get it.  Not because the partner is a bastard.  Not because he’s incapable or clueless.  Not because he doesn’t want to assist.  Simply because The Curse has made the call unintelligible.

I’m not a man-basher.  I love men.  Men are not the problem.  The Curse is the issue here.  The Curse is self-afflicted and only a Capable Woman can lift her own Curse. 

One day, when I’m in charge of the world and someone invites me to be the keynote speaker at a luncheon,  I’m not going to tell women that they’re good enough to succeed in business.  I’m not going to tell them they’re worthy of whatever they want.  I’m just going to tell them to continue to be Capable, but don’t be stubborn about it.  Just because you CAN do it all yourself, doesn’t mean you SHOULD do it all yourself.  Letting someone help you is not a sign of weakness.  On the contrary, allowing someone to help takes strength and courage and being open enough to ask for that help can break The Curse.

 

 

 

 

 

Movin' On Up...

Every year on New Years Eve, I try to find a moment of quiet (between neighborly fireworks) for a bit of meditation to reflect on the year behind me and get a grip on the one ahead of me.  As it happens, I’ve learned that the message I seek for myself usually expands to those close to me as well.  Since the blogosphere is probably already littered with Happy New Year posts, I thought I may as well share the message I got for 2014.

Anyone who knows me certainly knows by now that messages come to me in really kooky ways. I get cartoon images. I get movie scenes. Whatever it takes to make me see, right?

In the case of 2014, it’s music. When I asked what this year is all about, I was immediately hit with the theme song to The Jeffersons. That’s right. “Movin’ on up!” That segued into the old Coca Cola commercial from the 70s with young shiny happy people holding hands and wishing to teach the world to sing. Next came a medley from the Beatles…a bit of “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and a bit of “Help!”

What the hootin’ hell holler? What am I supposed to do with that!?!

But then it started to make sense. We ARE moving up. All of us. For some of us, it’s obvious…jobs, opportunities, adventures. For some it’s more subtle, but it’s still upward movement.

So what about those damn Coca Cola kids? I think they just represent an opening. Open eyes. Open hearts. Open minds. Open to give. Open to receive. They’re all about love and sharing. So it makes sense how The Beatles tie in.

We’re all rising up. Not exactly a phoenix out of the ashes, but maybe a duck rising from a stagnant pond. There hasn’t been a lot of movement for most of us in a long time, but we’ve gotten restless enough to MAKE things happen. And a lot of that making things happen comes from reaching out to others.

When we think of reaching out, we usually think that means ASKING for help. But sometimes it really just means finally being willing to ACCEPT help. Sometimes help we didn’t see coming or didn’t know we needed.

My situation is pretty evident. After waiting and waiting and waiting for the Right and Perfect opportunity, the Right and Perfect job has presented itself.  There were a lot of disappointments along the way, but if I know anything, it’s that Right and Perfect doesn’t care abut my calendar or my watch, but it comes when it’s…well…right and perfect.

 
Even if it doesn’t *seem* like an obvious upward movement, it’s happening to all of us.
If we all look around, we’ll see that we’re gaining altitude. Each time we reach our hands out to help someone else. We’re rising. Each time we reach out to comfort, we’re rising.

So this year, lets keep our eyes, hearts, minds and hands open. The boosts upward are going to come from some unexpected sources, but they’re going to come. When you notice that you’re rising, take a minute to enjoy the view and be grateful. Then you’ll rise some more.

So there we go. George Jefferson, Coca Cola, and John/Paul/George/Ringo can’t be wrong!