Too sensitive?

My first case in my first full-time job out of undergrad consisted of a family where the mother was traumatized by the father's abuse of her and the kids, and as a result, had difficulty pulling her life together, while the father did what we asked and got the kids back, but I never felt 100% about it.  I'll never forget that family, and it's a little haunting to think about.

When I started working at the State Hospital, my unit was all female, and all of my patients had some sort of trauma history, many at the hands of men.

Throw in some hurtful instances of sexual harassment in the workplace early in my career, and despite the fact that I have no shortage of wonderful, loving, empowering men in my life, sexism/the objectification of women is like a punch in the gut to me, and I have been accused of lacking a sense of humor or being too sensitive.

I disagree.

Women always have to look out for our safety in ways men do not.  We can be accused of causing our own victimization by doing the wrong thing: wearing the wrong thing, walking the wrong way, being in the wrong place in the wrong time when we "should have known better..."  Even in my current job, which I love, I have been in situations where I have watched my voice and that of my female colleagues be silenced because of our gender, or a smart and insightful respected colleague be referred to as "that little nurse" in a dismissive way.  Gender discrimination is pervasive and it is harmful.

I read and post on a Beaver sports message board (who's surprised?) and I am one of very few women.  Being a rarity in that population, I do admit to enjoying unusual respect at times, so I am not complaining about that group as a whole.  However, on occasion, as one might expect, it turns into the boys club, and someone posted a youtube video today:

I wanted to "have a sense of humor" and laugh about it, but it made me really upset.  Like, "I-was-trying-to-study-for-my-licensing-exam-but-kept-getting-distracted-by-how-angry-yet-self-critical-I-was-feeling" upset.

So here is why I think this type of "humor" is harmful:
1. This guy is maybe a 4, but claiming that a woman has to be an 8 to be wife material, regardless of any other qualities. (I'm assuming that beauty is relative, meaning that about 20% of women are pretty enough for him to marry.)
2. Presumably, by crazy, irrationally mean behavior is included, and he is basically saying that this kind of thing can be overcome by being physically beautiful enough, which is stupid and self destructive for him.
3. If, by crazy, he means mentally ill, that this is like octuple the inappropriate.  People who suffer from mental illness have enough plaguing them, without it being inferred by some hegemonic a-hole that they can only make up for it by being physically attractive.  (I work with several women who, in addition to trying to work toward getting out of a very restrictive psychiatric hospital, also feel awful enough about themselves that they are trying as hard as they can not to eat at all.  It's heartbreaking.)
4. EVEN THOUGH I am an educated, confident, married woman with a husband who tells me every day that he loves me, I felt noticeably worse about my physical appearance and overall self after watching this video.
5. It simplifies half of the population into two basic characteristics.  Women can apparently be rated on their physical appearance and level of "crazy" (whatever the heck that means) but qualities like kindness, intelligence, industriousness, and spirituality (among MANY others) apparently don't play a role in all of this.

I could keep going, as there are so many facets to the offensiveness of this video, but I will let you all come up with your own ideas.

Bottom line: sexism is hurtful.  Please think about the effect you are having on others if you feel the need to laugh about it to increase your own self-worth.

The Hallmark of a Christian is Joy: A Tale of Two Modern-Day Saints

In the summer of 2002, when I was 18, I took a trip with some of my friends to Toronto, Canada to participate in World Youth Day.  A lot of amazing memories happened on that trip, but for some reason, one phrase that I copied down in my journal during a keynote speech sticks in my mind more than others: "The hallmark of a Christian is joy."  Over the years, this has meant different things to me.  As a hyperactive (if naive) 18 year old, it meant being perpetually excited to be a Christian/Catholic.  But joy is not excitement or happiness.  So how can a Christian show her identity while mourning, or while being an underslept mother of 3 young children, or when getting justifiably super angry after being treated unfairly at work or elsewhere?

As I grew, I grew to see joy as something distinct from happiness, but had trouble pinning down what it was exactly.  Maybe it was like you could have all sorts of other emotions, but joy isn't an emotion, it's a choosing of priorities that lead to a more lasting kind of satisfaction or happiness.  I don't think this is wrong, I've just continued to expand on it.

With two examples in front of me lately, I have continued to refine my definition and understanding of joy, and the two examples I have been given are teaching me that joy is also the opposite of bitterness.

With apologies to both of my readers ;) I am likely to continue writing about my grandma for a bit.  As the weeks go by since her unexpected passing, I feel like I am both learning more about her and coming to new epiphanies about her.

One thing that I have long known about her is that her life was not easy.  She lost her mother in 1935, months before her 7th birthday.  Her sweet and loving father, tasked with raising 3 kids as a widower, remarried not too long later to a woman who could be harsh and judgmental.  I heard Grandma's best attempts to admire this woman, but from what I understand, she never truly felt loved by her.  It seems as though my step-great-grandmother was disdainful of Grandma having several children early in her marriage, and harshly criticized her at a time when Grandma and Grandpa were struggling to make ends meet for their family, instead of offering help. Grandma suffered the loss of her beloved father when she was in her late 20s, and the loss of her eldest son when he was 24, while needing to also provide love and comfort to a grieving family.  Finally 8 years ago, the love of her life since she was 15 passed away in their home after several months of illness.

Fr. Philip Waibel gave her eulogy, and I found out that he had spent quite a bit of time getting to know her.  He emphasized that she had plenty of opportunities to become bitter about life, and who could blame her?  Many things about her life were unfair.  She had more than her fair share of loss and of being treated in an unloving manner.  Instead, though, she chose joy and gratitude.  That is not to say that her suffering was not real, or that it was not valid.  The experiences I described caused her great pain, which she carried with her throughout her life.  Just a few years ago, a cousin and I went to go have lunch with her, and she teared up when talking about the loss of her mother many decades earlier.  At the same time, Grandma had a bigger picture in mind; I believe she viewed her sorrow as a uniting, a solidarity with the cross, and used those experiences to bring her closer to God rather than the opposite.

Grandma told Fr. Philip that she loved it that her kids would call her frequently and tell her what was going on with them; she was the "hub" of the family, and the role allowed her to "know who to pray for."  Though I always knew of her devotion to her faith, it wasn't until her funeral that I found out just how prayerful she was.  She truly viewed prayer as her number one defense for protecting her family, and we were all better off for it.  Her choosing of joy and gratitude was a grace in her life, and in the lives of all of us.  (There are around 60 of us.)

Similarly, I have been spending some time lately with a good friend who has suffered a terrible and tragic life-altering loss only about 6 months ago.  She, too, has ample reason to chose the path of bitterness, or even the path of total withdrawal from life.  No doubt that most, if not all days, are a struggle in ways for her to face, but in a completely inspiring, uplifting, and honestly, challenging way, she manages to choose a different way.  Every time I see her, I am greeted with a sunny smile, giggling, and lots of fun.  She has been spending a lot of time caring for others, praying for her friends and family, and even helping an interested friend learn more about the Catholic way of life.  Through her tragic sorrow, she has chosen the path of joy, the path of life, and it has challenged me to think about what role my own faith plays in my every day life; that Sunday is a refueling for the rest of my week, not the only place that my religion is practiced.

Therefore, joy is not happiness.  Joy can bring happiness, but joy is also a choice, a way of life, gratitude in situations where it seems impossible to be grateful.  It is expecting God to provide strength in situations where it would be impossible to rise up on our own.  It is a modern-day miracle of survival in front of my eyes, modeled to me by these two modern-day saints.

You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles?  In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit.  A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit.  Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.  Thus you will know them by their fruits. -Matthew 7:16-20