Today I talk in poetry. I don't have enough energy for many complete sentences. They would just be the same. This week is a long week, but it will get better. I've been thinking a lot about why we do what we do and the constant battles for and against social justice and I always have the argument for people to see it from the child's perspective. To see that love can change a child's life. It could be love shown to a child from family who has had kindness shown to them or a stress eliminated so that they can take a moment to show love. It could be love shown by a helping professional. It could be love shown by a stranger, but the more love, the greater the odds. Today while visiting a grandmother and her grandchildren, I was told by a little three year old angel that she loved me this much as she stretched out her tiny arms. I'm in tears right now at how that one moment wiped away so much (I mean A LOT) or the stress from the last two 10 hour work days. Her grandmother told me that they tell each other that they love eachother at least 3 times per day.
Fragile Hearts
An uncertain smile, an ego never boosted
A brain malleable with so much potential
Potential fed, but also potential slipped away
Away into the insults
Away into the feelings of inadequacy
Away into the hopelessness
The fear
The Anxiety of never feeling good enough
Not deserving of love
Not deserving of anything good
The same system attempting to free me from these feelings only stregnthens them
I hear the talk
I hear I'm not able to go home because of this and that but I feel the abandonment
I feel the struggle of those trying to find a place for me
I see no alternatives, I see no future
I only see the present and what I can do to attempt to mask the pain
The deep seeded pain that I may never get over
Will someone reach me
People ask how I am and if I'm "ok"
How could I be ok, why would I answer you?
I see you seldom, you don't want me either.
I see what may be kindness in your eyes, but I know not what kindness is because It has not perservered in my life
Kindness is a distant memory
A memory of a soft and tender touch patting me to sleep in infancy
A memory of a teachers kind words and unfailing patience
A memory of someone in my past, someone I may not remember
Will I remember them, Is their effort worth the time some may say
The effort may be fruitless, but the love will be there somewhere
It may not always stick or I may be to hard to accept it
But why stop loving because I've become to hard
Why stop trying
Who is to say who is valuable enough for someones love and care
Who is to say who can reach me
Who is to say that maybe the memory or a moment of kindness couldn't be the tipping scale.
I am fragile, but I become stronger with love.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Basket Case
Lately I've been calling myself a "basket case" because life has been insanely too hectic for me and apparently everyone around me. It suddenly dawned on me, "What the.... is a "basket case"? Does this mean that you need to be shoved in a basket to escape your problems. Does it mean that you jump into a basket to hide from life??? Either way it is a pretty silly term.
My work load has almost doubled in the last two months, but everyday I'm seeing more and more of the small differences that can actually be made, and I'm learning that sometimes smiling and letting someone know you care can make the same difference that 14 hour work days make.
This post is dedicated to my current state of mind. I'm trying very hard to remain optimistic; however my plate is piled a mile high. I guess I'm doing pretty good just staying away from the baskets ;).
My work load has almost doubled in the last two months, but everyday I'm seeing more and more of the small differences that can actually be made, and I'm learning that sometimes smiling and letting someone know you care can make the same difference that 14 hour work days make.
This post is dedicated to my current state of mind. I'm trying very hard to remain optimistic; however my plate is piled a mile high. I guess I'm doing pretty good just staying away from the baskets ;).
Monday, April 18, 2011
Chik-Fil-Yay!
I know it has been ages since I've written and for this I"m mad at myself. I've started several very deep posts, but haven't had the time or energy that such topics deserve. So tonight I'm starting back on a lighter note. Obviously, from my lack of posting, I've been extremely busy and some pretty heavy things have happened. Nothing that I've not gotten used to has happened. I have just been reminded of the cycle. Three more employees have quit at my office; however, they have gotten to hire some new employees. All of this I'm sure will come out in future posts, but tonight I only want to share a short dedication to one of my favorite places- Chik-fil-a.
Eating may be one of my favorite things. I was raised in a vegetarian household, but somehow, probably related to being raised in the deep south, one of my guilty pleasures is fried chicken. I love any and all types of fried chicken and fried foods for that matter. As I'm aging, I love foods of the fried nature less and less as my young steal stomach and body are wearing off and not so good at ignoring that fried chicken makes me feel like I'm taking years off of my life. I do still occasionally indulge. My indulgences usually include the crack filled chicken they have manage to magically create at the one and only Chik-fil-A.
As appropriate as it would be, this post isn't intended to highlight how much of a fatty I am. There are several guilty pleasures that may even tie with Chik-fil-A on the tasty scale; however, I love Chik-fil-A for much more than it's ability to appease my belly. Chik-fil-A has always been an adamant supporter of non-profits. Truit Cathy has taken a particular interest in child welfare and has opened group homes in Georgia. Chik-Fil-A also treats it's employees very well. Chik-Fil-A is base on morals and values. Even if I'm less religious than I have been in the past, I think a business that has a foundation founded in something other than profit has a feeling that outweighs companies who only seem to want your money.
All this being said, this still is not the extent or the bulk of why this post is about to make you crack up or why I REALLY love Chik-Fil-A. So back when I was a sophomore in college, I broke down in from of this glorious restaurant at a stoplight. This was in my old Volvo that didn't have flashers. I was in the middle lane of a very crowded intersection. I didn't know what to do.. I called 911 and they said they would send an officer. As I waited, I almost began to cry. My Volvo wasn't the most reliable car and this was not a rare occurrence. In addition, I was on my way home to south Georgia and was worried my trip may have to be post-poned (this is when I still liked going back to south Georgia ;)). All of the sudden, before the police even responded, two Chick-Fil-A managers came and offered to push me to the nearby gas station. Then when they got there with their traditional smiles they humbly accepted my apology with "my pleasure" and gave me Chick-Fil-A coupons. As if pushing my car several hundred feet wasn't enough, THEY GAVE ME COUPONS!
All of this happened so long ago, why am I telling it now? Well today, after about 10 straight hours of working and driving around Atlanta, I stopped for a sandwich at Chik-Fil-A. At the window, the manager approached as the attendant was giving me my sandwich and asked if my emergency break was on. Sure enough, I had driven about 4 miles with it on and there was a lovely burnt rubber smell coming from the rental car I was driving for work. Both of the employees smiled as I embarrassingly thanked them. I was still in Atlanta at this point and may or may not have continued to drive home an hour with my emergency break on the entire way or until something went terribly wrong.
Chik-Fil-A employees will probably save me from a burning house in the next few years. :)
Eating may be one of my favorite things. I was raised in a vegetarian household, but somehow, probably related to being raised in the deep south, one of my guilty pleasures is fried chicken. I love any and all types of fried chicken and fried foods for that matter. As I'm aging, I love foods of the fried nature less and less as my young steal stomach and body are wearing off and not so good at ignoring that fried chicken makes me feel like I'm taking years off of my life. I do still occasionally indulge. My indulgences usually include the crack filled chicken they have manage to magically create at the one and only Chik-fil-A.
As appropriate as it would be, this post isn't intended to highlight how much of a fatty I am. There are several guilty pleasures that may even tie with Chik-fil-A on the tasty scale; however, I love Chik-fil-A for much more than it's ability to appease my belly. Chik-fil-A has always been an adamant supporter of non-profits. Truit Cathy has taken a particular interest in child welfare and has opened group homes in Georgia. Chik-Fil-A also treats it's employees very well. Chik-Fil-A is base on morals and values. Even if I'm less religious than I have been in the past, I think a business that has a foundation founded in something other than profit has a feeling that outweighs companies who only seem to want your money.
All this being said, this still is not the extent or the bulk of why this post is about to make you crack up or why I REALLY love Chik-Fil-A. So back when I was a sophomore in college, I broke down in from of this glorious restaurant at a stoplight. This was in my old Volvo that didn't have flashers. I was in the middle lane of a very crowded intersection. I didn't know what to do.. I called 911 and they said they would send an officer. As I waited, I almost began to cry. My Volvo wasn't the most reliable car and this was not a rare occurrence. In addition, I was on my way home to south Georgia and was worried my trip may have to be post-poned (this is when I still liked going back to south Georgia ;)). All of the sudden, before the police even responded, two Chick-Fil-A managers came and offered to push me to the nearby gas station. Then when they got there with their traditional smiles they humbly accepted my apology with "my pleasure" and gave me Chick-Fil-A coupons. As if pushing my car several hundred feet wasn't enough, THEY GAVE ME COUPONS!
All of this happened so long ago, why am I telling it now? Well today, after about 10 straight hours of working and driving around Atlanta, I stopped for a sandwich at Chik-Fil-A. At the window, the manager approached as the attendant was giving me my sandwich and asked if my emergency break was on. Sure enough, I had driven about 4 miles with it on and there was a lovely burnt rubber smell coming from the rental car I was driving for work. Both of the employees smiled as I embarrassingly thanked them. I was still in Atlanta at this point and may or may not have continued to drive home an hour with my emergency break on the entire way or until something went terribly wrong.
Chik-Fil-A employees will probably save me from a burning house in the next few years. :)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Private
Some things aren't meant to be shared. I have a big mouth and this is a hard concept to grasp, but I'm going to, for now, contemplate keeping this post private. There are some things that people shouldn't have to experience, but sometimes, in experiencing them, we learn important things about ourselves and each other. Sometimes events make us feel a certain way, but if we look deep down we realize that maybe we felt that way all along. It is the wretched event that leaps these feelings to the surface and allows us to begin to grow out of our handicaps.
I guess social work is all about, growing "out of" handicaps. Not diminishing their importance or acting as if they never existed, but giving voice to their beauty and warmth to the cold places they may leave humanity. I was told by a friend that being an "altruistic" person will enable me to never be happy. This was a overwhelming frustrating conversation. It was coming from a place of logic. He stated that he does not believe all people are created equal and that all people do not deserve to be treated the same. I found this alarming because my entire system of beliefs is tied into the idea that intrinsically, deep down, every person does have the same internal good.
It is easy to see where he is coming from, especially in my frustrations and all the darkness that is often shown to people in my line of work. We are trained and believe in the good, but often we are called in because darkness has overwhelmed a soul. It is easy for me to say that I am better than some of the people I've encountered in my life. It would make me feel better to think that all the people who have done "bad" things or who "don't contribute to society" are actually inferior. Then, however, one must define what truly is a bad thing or what contributing to society really is. There are too many elements in all of this argument. Enough elements that I do not have the time or energy, nor do I care to try and develope a philosophical ranting argument for or against this plight.
I guess social work is all about, growing "out of" handicaps. Not diminishing their importance or acting as if they never existed, but giving voice to their beauty and warmth to the cold places they may leave humanity. I was told by a friend that being an "altruistic" person will enable me to never be happy. This was a overwhelming frustrating conversation. It was coming from a place of logic. He stated that he does not believe all people are created equal and that all people do not deserve to be treated the same. I found this alarming because my entire system of beliefs is tied into the idea that intrinsically, deep down, every person does have the same internal good.
It is easy to see where he is coming from, especially in my frustrations and all the darkness that is often shown to people in my line of work. We are trained and believe in the good, but often we are called in because darkness has overwhelmed a soul. It is easy for me to say that I am better than some of the people I've encountered in my life. It would make me feel better to think that all the people who have done "bad" things or who "don't contribute to society" are actually inferior. Then, however, one must define what truly is a bad thing or what contributing to society really is. There are too many elements in all of this argument. Enough elements that I do not have the time or energy, nor do I care to try and develope a philosophical ranting argument for or against this plight.
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