Big Brother is Watching

           Quite recently my brother became a target of what one may have considered a funny prank.  Something had landed on his head.  Something gross.  It had been delivered intentionally.  He had a nagging feeling to share with his manager what  had taken place figuring that nothing could be done.  He’d forgotten about the video cameras that surrounded the area. 

          Security was called and the culprit was caught.  The culprit had known he was wrong for his act of disgust.  Before he “delivered” his “gift” he had looked around to make certain that no one was watching.  Evidently he had no taken the cameras into consideration either.  Corey had the option to press charges but declined and never met his offender.  His boss had given him the option of going home to recuperate – which he did eventually.

          It wasn’t just the actions of having something gross land on his head at work that had bothered him.  It was so many experiences of his time in junior high (which he unfondly refers to as four years of hell;  his experience started in sixth grade and ended in 9^th) when he felt tormented and bullied by others.  Back in a day before personal computers and laptops and smartphones.  Back in a day when there was no other options offered for education such as doing school online.  Corey would have been quite comfortable with that.

          Today people capture moments with their cell phones or some other recording device to upload on YouTube. No longer just a security footage but public spectacle.  One may laugh at the perfect aim planted to Corey’s head while others may snark at those who find it funny.  How many perpetrators have been caught when their actions go viral? 

          It’s a different world now.  Why don’t we all make the best of it?  Live each moment as if we were on hidden camera.  

What is it we want to be remembered for?  I would hope for kindness.  It really doesn’t take a lot.  A smile.  An encouraging word.  Be a friend.

It Is All About Happiness - but we all have different concepts of Happiness

            On Sunday I was told to go into the room where the young women meet as the stake presidency wanted at least one parent for every youth to sit in.  The subject was a sensitive subject but seemed to be approached from a different angle but still with a hint of snobbery. One of the stake president's counselors was showing a slide show and had used this as an example of "Satan trying to divert your attention away from him" 

referring to the "fox" as Satan. Okay, Satan can be clever, but others can be clever without deception.  Some people are better at "fitting in" than others.  But at whose expense do we fit in?

            The teens were asked if they know of others who are living together without being married.  My reaction:  "My son Biff and his girlfriend Claire."  The idea of living together was compared to test-driving cars.  I know of several couples who waited and were married in the temple and are now divorced.  I know of couples who had lived together long before they married and are still together.  Imagine that.

            Statistics prove this. Statistics prove that.  Maybe I am that fox.  Maybe I'm an exception.  My family doesn't fall into the statistics.  I don't fall into the statistics. Not now.  Not in Oregon.  I am a person.  Not a statistic.

            Moving on.  Same-sex attraction.  You can have those attractions, but if you act upon those attractions, you are doomed.  You can still be friends with those who have same-sex attraction but let them know what makes you happy.  Following the commandments makes us happy.  Okay.  I can understand this and even follow it for myself.  Being LDS makes me happy.  Uhh . . . sometimes, perhaps often, but not always.  There have been times I have felt ashamed not necessarily by WHAT was taught but HOW it was being taught - as though we are superior to anyone who acts upon same-sex desires or moves in together.  Why do they assume that it is always connected with drugs and alcohol?  Aren't there just as many straight people who turn to drugs and alcohol?  Aren't there several couples who were not only married but sealed in the temple who stray because of restrictions or calling abuse or hurt feelings?  How many couples do I know who have put on a show for the sake of the church only to have it blow up in their faces? Perhaps it's the feeling of loss when church and family may say one thing but do little with their actions to back up their words that make an individual turn to drugs hoping to get a sense of satisfaction.

            How many times have members been shocked when the "good Mormons" - idealistic even - announce: "We're getting a divorce."  Sometimes the pressure of the church (not the gospel, but the expectations and stipulations) is more than we can handle.  Sometimes we are not happy because of a value someone else had expected to be there.

            I sat in the back.  I kept my mouth shut, hoping to be led by the spirit.  The president asked how many had family members who are involved with the opposite sex.  Jenna raised her hand and was presented a follow-up question in which she responded that she wished she hadn't answered.  One leader volunteered information about a family member on facebook who's life had gone downhill once he announced his desire for a man.  One of the youth volunteered that she is now being homeschooled so that she is not around those who make poor choices.  The way she said it was very snobby like anyone not living up to her standards are beneath her.  Fortunately for all of us, Christ doesn't feel that way.

            I couldn't agree with the comments.  My brother was miserable when he was active in the church.  But it's a part of him and he understands the values.  He also understands the policies and politics.  After he came out, a burden was lifted.  He has a wonderful husband.  They have three cats.  They don't drink, smoke, swear or anything that was somehow presented as being connected.  Corey and Joh are two of the most awesome examples of true followers of Christ.  They are happy, not because of their lifestyle, but rather the choices that they've made.  They are happy because they "give" to others.  They are pleasant people to be around.  They don't fit the statics or the stereotypical biases.  But Corey is not a member of the Church.  He could not stay in the church and be with Joh.  Joh makes him happy.  The church did not.  He still lives the gospel of Jesus Christ.

            Statements that are not fact: "I was born this way"  uh, yeah.  It isn't necessarily something you are swayed into - which I think was the theme of the slideshow - being swayed, being distracted.  There are several health issues such peanut allergies that didn't seem to be such a huge concern when I was growing up.  I did know one girl in my elementary school who was allergic to milk.  Today some places have actually discontinued serving peanut butter or cooking with peanut oil because of the tremendous amount of people who are allergic to peanuts.  I think because of the wide variety of people produce who inter-marry or have affairs and make mistakes or whatever, the genes have been altered and there are just more health issues as a result.  I also think it's true of personality.  Jenna is friends with so many walks of life right now.  Homosexuals and transgenders are among those that she chooses to hang with as they share other things in common and she doesn't put conditions on anybody.

            This video was shown to prove the point of convincing power.  People can be swayed for good and for bad.  Don't members of the church often use this tool?  Don't some missionaries try this tool out for themselves?  Not every set of missionaries are compatible.  Not everyone who joins the church remains active. 

            We all laughed at the video.  It was done in fun.  But I did have two thoughts go through my head.  The pressure from bullies (though it might not fit the definition of how many might perceive bullying, they were having fun at someone else's expense) and the one from the "Emporers New Clothes" who has the courage to say "I am not going along with this; I can see that he is naked".  

            I do my best to encourage all youth not to go along with the crowd and to stand up for themselves and be who they are - even if presents a difficult choice that might cost you (giving up something [or someone] for something else) just be sure to invite God into being a part of your decision.  Doing something that is God's will can also be difficult.  Joseph Smith's life may have seemed like it may have been easier if he had just said "tired of the mobs, tired of the ridicule.  Nope.  I don't want to do this anymore."

      Each of us have our own definition of what makes us happy.  Living the gospel makes me happy.  "Holier Than Thou" attitudes do not.  Leadership suggestion makes me happy sometimes.  Prayer is my communication with God.  It is up to me to follow His guidance.

Treat Others With Respect

     I started my blog on New Year's 2012.  My goal was to create a new post for each day.  My goal was to keep them positive.  For the most part, I think they were.  It appears that I had been faithful about blogging each day for the first few months, and then it tapered off into at least 20 posts, but by summer it was less.  I had a great excuse though.  Jenna was home from school and I needed to spend time with her and not on the computer.

        December came and I was once again going to post every day.  All of my posts would center around Christmas.  I didn't want to be so cold as to not acknowledge the shootings on the 14th at Sandy Hooks elementary in Newton Connecticut.  Innocent children . . .

        I did not mention any other shootings . . . my blog had somehow turned into thoughts on dementia, assisted living, transportation and weather . . . it isn't because I didn't feel or grieve.  I feel sad, I feel anger - my emotions are not different from any other.  I wasn't trying to avoid the topic by not mentioning what has happened - way too many times.  I haven't felt my words on the subject would be of any comfort or interest or have relevance.

        Two years before the shootings happened in Las Vegas, I heard about the shootings that happed at Umpqua Community College.  We were still new to the area.  I had such a great respect for our community at that time as it appeared the entire county had pulled together during this tragic event.  Two years later (both took place October 1st) I am reading facebook posts from both Corey and Joh that they are alright.  Oh, but I fail to mention Orlando and all the other shootings (Trevor Noah, here, says there's been over 20 in just the last two years) . . . what is wrong with us?           

        As I was reading the summary of Bonnie Oscarson's talk (found here)  she says "we are touched when we see the suffering and great needs to those halfway around the world, but we may fail to see there is a person who needs or friendship siting right next to us in class?"  Actually, I think that was the theme of conference as it was mentioned in several other talks in all six meetings.

        I cannot say if all  the shooters have been bullied - though I think it's a safe guess.  What evidence have been researched into these people's backgrounds?  What is it that they have in common?  Were they mistreated by others until one day they just snapped?  We don't even know why they did it as they ended up turning the gun on themselves.  The police make speculations.  The media makes speculations.  I'm making the speculation that each of these men (or boys) had been mistreated by others. 

        Be kind to others.  Treat people as you would want to be treated.  Make time to understand if not to love.  Treat people decent.

        Remember the poem  "Sticks and Stones can break my bones, but names will never hurt me?"  What idealist thought that up?  Name calling and disrespect hurt people all the time.  How many innocent people were shot at because somebody snapped - possibly because they hadn't been treated kindly by another.  Think about it.

Mind Games: Educating Bullies

                  I believe it was 1996 when the freeway was in the process of a new makeover as Utah would be holding the winter Olympics in 2002 and the city needed to get ready for the mass transportation that would be involved.

            I was working downtown and had chosen to ride the bus to my destination.  Often I would catch a bus which ran along State Street, but every once in a while I managed to catch the one that went by way of the freeway.  Either way I had my nose in a book during the ride.

            I recall one day in particular I was reading the autobiography of a World War II survivor from Poland.  He was only a boy when the invasion started and described the horrific scenery – which to him was not so horrific - as he thought the dirt pits and piles and military transportation vehicles offered some sense of adventure – only he learned that the “adventure” was grotesque and inhumane and not at all what he had set out for.

            As I was reading the book, I happened to glance out the window.  My mouth dropped as I looked at the dirt piles and holes in the freeway – like the rubble that had been described in the book.  But instead of German vehicles, there were yellow caterpillars – no soldiers, (but no construction workers either).  It was actually kind of eerie.

            I hate Hitler.  I hate the very thought of all the tragedy, all the crime, all the needless punishment.  I have no Christ-like compassion for Adolph Hitler – perhaps a few of his followers.  There was so much brain washing and fear.  There are not enough words in my vocabulary to describe all the hatred and anger and remorse that I feel each time I read or watch or discuss anything related to all that senseless political crime.  So why do I continue?  I admire the strength of the survivors who stayed true to themselves – who pass on their stories and experiences.  I would hope that we may take into our hearts their pain and their experiences and learn and NEVER EVER repeat that piece of history. (But then perhaps we already are – or perhaps it already exists)

 

            There are so many accounts from children who were sent to live in the United Kingdom – a means of protecting them – or trying to.  Some were sent to good homes.  Others were not so fortunate.  Some became slaves to those that had been forced to or agreed to take them in.  Some were able to reunite with their real families – or at least some family members.  Many more were not.

            Currently I am reading a piece of historic fiction, “Someone Named Eva” by Joan M. Wolf.  She introduces a part of history I hadn’t learned before.  Girls with blonde hair and light colored-eyes were considered the “elite” and regardless of whether they had been born in Poland or Czechoslovakia, they were “stolen” and forced to take upon a new identity and become the Aryan – the best of the German girls. 

            I am horrified at the events that took place.  In 1942 the Nazis (or Gestapo) went into the homes and ordered al l family members to leave.  They were given only a few minutes to pack.  I have read so many accounts of being allowed to pack.  For what purpose?  Their possessions were confiscated almost immediately.  Almost everything they had was taken away.  Some were able to hang on to their identity.  Many others were not.  They were caught up in Hitler Youth or the Gestapo or the Brown House or whatever – saying “Heil Hitler” first out of fear and then out of habit.  Brainwashed.  Becoming numb. Saying but not feeling.

            Some were actually so caught up in it, they willingly accepted the harshness to be a part of their lifestyle (if you can indeed call it living) to become great bullies themselves.  To actually support the cause.  To praise evil.

            The girls in this story were “stolen”.  Two had been removed from Lidice along with their families.  And then they separated.  The men were taken in one direction and children with mothers and then separated again.  Milada and Ruzha were put on a bus that took them across the border into Poland.  They didn’t know why.  They didn’t speak German.

            Another bus carried twelve girls.  They didn’t speak Czech.  They didn’t speak German either.  Finally a pretty woman translated for all fourteen girls.  It was the one and only time that she would ever translate, for they were forbidden to speak in their native tongue.  German would be their new tongue.  They’d be accepted as German girls.

            Each morning they were expected to give the “Heil Hitler” salute to a poster.  Once they learned the German language they’d be introduced to German history and mathematics.  The youngest one (Heidi) was having too hard of a time keeping up.  She spoke in another tongue and was whipped for it.  Sometime later she disappeared.  When Heidi’s sister gave up on the German education, she too disappeared. 

            Whether or not their whereabouts had been explained to the other girls wouldn’t have made a difference.  They had fed them so many lies that it was hard to know what was truth.  Ruzha (whose name had been changed to Franziska) had hardened her heart.  She was a bully and worked hard at getting the approval of the adult bullies. 

            Milada worked just as hard to separate what she’d been taught from who she wanted to be – NOT a Nazi.  She was ashamed when people thought she was.  But that’s what the Aryan wanted.  And when the war was over, couples from all over Germany were called in to “adopt” the girls.

            So now Milada (who is called Eva) is in a fancy house with a new brother and sister and mom and dad.  All blonds.  All beautiful.  Her description of a horrible smell reminds me of the horrific smell described in “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas” – a discovery that makes me cringe and cry and stirs up all these emotions of pain and dismay. How could so many people have let things get out of hand the way they did?
 

Milada remembers her own family.  And that is where I am in the book.  

Survivors allow emotion.  Bullies forget emotion. I must be a survivor. 

Another Baptism, Another Discovery

      

            We went to a primary baptism on Saturday.  I was surprised to see Azure’s dad dressed in white. According to Hannah, her husband had been inactive for eight years.  Evidently Azure had talked him into coming back so that he could baptize him – which he did. 

            The baptism was a lot more reverent than the last primary baptism Jenna and I had attended.  Roland actually went with us to this one. There was still the visiting between the confirmation and the baptism though everyone seemed to be more respectful and non visiting the two times we had waited in the chapel.  I don’t know why the visitation bothers me so much, but it does. 

            Jenna had brought along an activity book to keep herself entertained.  I didn’t think that was all that respectful either – especially when she took the program and drew a tic-tac-toe while the bishop was speaking and nudged me to take a turn.  I gave her a hard crusty which I’m certain was not in harmony with the Spirit either. 

            The activity she had was from the story about Saul/Paul.  She said it was one of her favorites and said she wanted to watch the video but I told her I didn’t think we had it.  She was actually looking for the video of Alma’s conversion and accounted the story which she wanted to watch.  She was thinking that was the activity book she held.  I hadn’t even given a thought until then how many similarities both Paul and Alma shared.

            Both were bullies who seemed to be involved in gang related activity.  Though Alma appears more as the ring leader (Mosiah 27:8) while Paul appears more to be one that is taking orders from the leader (Acts 9:2).  Both Alma and Paul persecute the righteous (Mosiah 27:10, Acts 8:3 ).  Paul is left blind after Christ calls to him on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:8) while Alma is left in an almost comatose state (Alma27:19) after having have seen an angel.  Both are called to repentance (Mosiah 27:24, Acts 9:6) and completely turn their lives around and become heavily involved in missionary work (Mosiah 27:32, Acts 9: ).  Both are persecuted for their beliefs.

          After Azure's baptism and confirmation, Hannah had all those who were seated to please stay for pictures.  A few pictures were taken of the entire group (everyone in attendance)  What a great idea!  Wish I had thought of it.

A Reflection about the past and Present

          If I can’t get interested in a movie in the first twenty minutes or a novel within the first ten pages, I usually don’t continue.  That may not seem like I am giving a fair chance – maybe so.  But it’s something I have decided not to gamble on – usually. 

`        There have been too many movies and even more books read where I have sat through its entirety and am quite upset with myself for having wasted my time.  That is why I usually don’t go beyond twenty minutes or ten pages.  But sometimes I do.

          “that’s what I am” was actually kind of a slow movie – one I watched in parts because of several interruptions.  I don’t know if I would have continued otherwise – though I was somewhat intrigued by the narration by Greg Kinnear – it reminded me of Jean Shepherd’s “The Christmas Story” or “Ollie Hopnoodle’s Haven of a Bliss” or Jim Carrey as the Adult Joe Wenteworth in “Simon Birch”

I don’t ever remember seeing any advertisements or even heard of “that’s what I am”.  Evidently it came out just over a year ago – must have gone straight to DVD.  I’m thinking it may not have done well at the box office.  But what do I know?

“that’s what I am” is a coming of age story set in 1965.  But there is more to it than the character of Andy Nichol (the character who narrates the story.)  Observations were made about the supporting characters of Andy’s world.

There is bullying against “the geeks” weeded out mostly on looks.  Stanley is a tall boy with red hair.  They call him “Big G” – G stands for ginger, an unkind word associated with red hair.  I don’t see it so much now as I did as a youth.  Many redheaded kids I had known were either shy or rebellious and often treated like outcasts – I think that’s stupid!

Stanley is smart – very smart.  Mr. Simon is the science teacher (or is it social studies?  I suppose it doesn’t really matter) that pairs Stanley and Andy together to complete an assignment (also hated that; grade me on my own merits, not an assigned partner) and Andy can’t seem to get together with Stanley except at lunch – but Stanley has lunch where the geeks are.  

They have been shunned to a lower class by the rest of the school – and if Andy were to cross the line – well, people might think that he’s a geek, too.  But Stanley won’t give up to doing assignments before or after school – Andy’s option is to be seen with Big G or just let Big G do all the work – easy grade, right. 

When a girl gets bullied (I’m guessing sexually – though they didn’t really show it) Mr. Simons takes action and the bully is suspended.  And so he starts an unkind rumor about Mr. Simons that threatens to put his job in jeopardy if he doesn’t deny the rumor.

It’s an unfair thing for this bully’s accusations to cause sparks to fly – to question the integrity of this man who has taught for many years and brought under investigation because of some bad mouth bully whom the principal doesn’t necessarily believe – but still – he has made an accusation nevertheless and the matter needs to be looked into.

Mr. Simon could easily deny the rumor – whether true or false – and there would be no investigation – but he chooses instead not to answer at all – which of course in grounds for dismissal –

Perhaps in 1965 the denial would have been good enough. But today there has to be an investigation, a suspension, a probation – and some of these accusations turn out to be true while others are just months and years of dragging ones good name through the mud so that the rumor is the only thing remembered and the fact that there is no truth to whatever rumor was started seems irrelevant – which is too bad.

Roland’s ex-wife has made false accusations about everyone she’s known, I imagine.  It’s a sickness on her part.  After a while she believes her own lies.  She won’t let up for anything.

Roland and I were not sealed in the temple until three years after we had married.  His membership was in jeopardy – not once – but several times at her wicked hands. She obviously doesn't know that Roland is in the bishopric or else she would do everything in her power to tarnish his good name and present position.

I know that there have been many who have lost their careers due to scandal – whether in the armed services, law enforcement, education, and what have you.  It happens.  There are those who have had to face up to their wrong doings and there are some who have basically had to start over because of the tarnished mishaps that often seem to haunt them.  Some move on with regret – others choose to move on and make the best of it (if that is even possible).

There are some people who are sour grapes and will remain that way no matter what.  I recall once being on a cruise line in which one particular couple would complain about their purser – giving him a bad rating – which of course would come up for investigation.  Each group of people who happened to have the same purser made it a point to complain about the couple and defend the purser.  I don’t know what the results were.  I hope the cruise line realized that the problem was with the couple and not the purser.

          I think the things I enjoyed most about “that’s what I am” happen at the finale, after the bully receives what’s coming to him.  And Mr. Simon went out with a blaze of glory.  But the best was at the very end – because there really is more than one correct way to mow a lawn.  It would be so nice if everybody could see that.  If it’s getting done, don’t harp on how it needs to be done.  Who decides what makes something politically correct anyway?