Shoring up Christmas Spirits
The news continues to be full of "war against Christmas" protests, first and foremost centered on outrage at being greeted with the words "happy holidays." At first I was just bewildered by this continuation of a bogus campaign first launched by the John Birch Society in 1959, but now I've decided to join in. Let me be at the front of the line of individuals protesting the people who are assaulting my Christmas spirit: the pro-torture, anti-civil liberties crowd.
I would like to ignore, just for awhile, the ugliness in the world and the awful things we do to each other in the name of religion, freedom, or other words it seems we cannot understand. But the hits keep on coming. The Bush administration still defends the use of torture, having inserted a gaping loophole in the McCain bill to outlaw it, and the letters in our local newspaper reflect a stunning consensus in our area regarding not just the necessity, but the desirability, of inflicting pain and grievous bodily harm to anyone who isn't one of "them." Our president finally finds a cause that has him fighting mad, and it concerns the gall of the media for publishing his authorization of illegal surveillance of American citizens. His "right" to be above the law may be compromised, and he is ready for heads to roll. The irony of the fact that all the most incompetent, corrupt and blind members of his cabal still have their heads attached totally escapes him.
The idea that anyone could be pro-torture (and almost certainly, in the same breath, pro-life) is one that I find inexplicable. Putting aside the fact that torture is barbarous, savage and prohibited by international law, it still fails because it is ineffective. Information collected by torture is worthless. The intel that propelled us to war in Iraq was largely drawn from suspects who were tortured in order to attain it. All we learned is that people will say whatever they think their torturers want to hear in order to escape the pain. That was not news.
And even if the information extracted was valid, it would still be of little to no value 72 hours after it was obtained. To our shame, we are torturing people far after the 72-hour window is closed. Indeed, we are torturing people who we have good reason to know are innocent for months and even years after their capture.
Equally difficult to understand is how we "protect" freedom by giving it up. Allowing the President to place himself above the courts and Congress, to authorize clearly illegal acts, seems a strange way to defend our liberty. On the other hand, it seems an excellent method for setting up a dictatorship, and one that is not marked by compassion for anyone other than megalithic corporate officers.
The knowledge that our country is turning its back on our most precious ideals is not doing a thing for my holiday mood. It adds to my feeling of powerlessness, of having no control over issues that mean a great deal to me. It makes the phrase, "peace on earth, good will toward men," ring more than just a little bit hollow.
But I am determined to be resilient, to reclaim my Christmas no matter how assailed I may feel. I shared the afternoon with a friend, and we talked and wrapped packages and baked cookies. This evening, four of us took the two-year-old to see Christmas lights, and his enthusiasm was brighter than any star on display.
So my message to those who are finding their Christmas ruined by stores who promote "home for the holidays" to get over it. If I can believe in "peace on earth" despite wars, torture and poverty, then you can handle hearing the phrase "have a happy holiday." We just need to focus on what truly matters in our lives, and perhaps we will all have a merry Christmas after all.
Love, Actually
The Christmas season is in full swing at our house. Having a two year old and a tree in the same room is festivity enough, and yet there is so much more. The pressures that pull us apart during the year - work deadlines, business trips, term papers and finals and crises of all sorts - begin to pale in importance. We listen instead to those instincts that pull us together, friends and family alike. This weekend, for instance, I had reports I absolutely had to turn in, and e-mails I had to answer, all firmly shoved to the back of my awareness. I felt not the slightest pang of remorse or guilt. After all, I had a son's Christmas present to buy, and friends were coming for dinner, and there was an incredible sale at a store just 40 miles away where I could find perfect gifts for my daughters. And even though preparing a monthly report so that we can invoice a funder is important, a trip to visit my parents is even more so.
We talk about Valentine's Day as being the season of love, but often that seems rather artificial, and it certainly does not encompass all the varieties of the love that fills our lives. Christmas is the time our hearts truly soften, and we allow ourselves to experience the emotions we give lip service to all year round. There are many condemnations of the commercialization of Christmas, but the act of buying and making gifts is profoundly positive. Stopping to think what a person would like for Christmas focuses our attention on who that person actually is: who they are, what they do, what they have, what they like and dislike. And the more we think about the uniqueness of each friend and family member, the more real they become, and the more we actually like them.
For many of us, this feeling of specific affection expands to the point of general good will toward man, and we find ourselves donating to charities that we don't even notice during the year. We may cover and say we need the end-of-the-year tax deductions, but we could find all kinds of tax shelters that were more efficient in maintaining assets and protecting against loss. The bottom line is that we have taken the time to see hunger and want, and we do what we can to alleviate the hopelessness of poverty for just a little while.
Love in all its aspects comes through on the chill winds, and warms us in unexpected ways. The affection my children share with each other moves me beyond measure. So does watching my parents with their great-grandchild, and my daughter with her son. I catch my husband's eye, and we marvel at this intricate network of compassionate, gentle and intelligent people that we have anchored. I am grateful for all the friendships and new relationships we have each brought to our combined life, and for the richness and variety that sustains us. We now have a Lebanese brother-in-law, a Russian prospective son-in-law, and our grandchild is one-quarter Korean. Most exotic of all, we have a Southern self-proclaimed redneck joining the family, who has confounded us with his approach to gender equality, sharing of household responsibilities, and dedication to maintaining a just and fair relationship. There is room for everyone at the Christmas dinner.
Should Jesus return to our society, there must surely be countless aspects of our society that he would find appalling. Pre-emptive wars and military swagger can hardly impress the Prince of Peace, and the accretion of obscene wealth among the few in the face of national and global poverty does not reflect the message given at the Sermon on the Mount. But I don't think he would be disturbed by the tinsel and glitter and abundance of bright-colored lights, or even the holiday shopping hours. He most of all would see beyond the surface, and into the heart.
It's love, actually.
Choices
Yesterday I got an e-mail urging me to contact Congressman Jim Davis's office, and to pass along a request regarding the expedition of sexual assault prevention funding through the House Energy and Commerce Committee. By a strange coincidence, I was having lunch with Rep. Davis that very day, so was able to relay the message with unusual efficiency and effectiveness.
Having lunch with Congressmen from around the state is not in my normal realm of activity, but meeting Democratic gubernatorial candidates is not so strange. They come up to the Panhandle because they don't want to be accused of ignoring the entire region, but there aren't that many people to recruit to their cause once they arrive.
I have mentioned elsewhere that I remain an optimist, even though it is often difficult in the environment in which I live. Recently the ability to hope despite experience has been more in the forefront than usual. I am convinced that we have finally reached the point where building a homeless shelter is a viable option, and setting up a rape exam clinic is within reach. And it is absolutely possible to elect a Democrat for governor in Florida.
So is Rep. Davis the one we want? I have too little data to know for certain, but he seems on first pass to be more than presentable, and to share the passion for social justice that marks my world view. He got his start in public service by working in a homeless shelter, and thinking that a systems change was necessary to make the way out of despair a little easier for our more vulnerable residents. He looked out over our lovely harbor, and vowed to protect our shores from drilling. And he promised an end to the special interest tax loopholes, to free money for education and health care. He never once suggested that the answer to all our problems is more prisons, which has seemed to be the raison d'etre of our current administration. He seems to be less inclined to run the same campaign as is Senator Nelson, which fits the pattern of "Republican lite."
Well, it should be an interesting campaign, and one I am likely to learn a great deal about as time moves forward. It is a time for hope.
Diversion
I've been asked to break up the prose with a picture. So, Chelsea - this is for you:
Everybody Knows
Lately I've been feeling out of the loop. It seems as though there are a host of things that "everybody knows" that I don't.
For instance, apparently "everybody knows" that there is a war against Christmas. I'm not seeing it. Every house in my neighborhood is lit up as though a barrage of fireworks have permanently settled on the ground (mine too - I love Christmas lights especially when I come home from work). The stores are filled with Christmas (not holiday) music, and decorated to ever more elaborate extremes. The post office and delivery services seem to be doing brisk business, and employers universally declare a day off from work. Charity drives are in full swing, and donations are generous expressions of "the spirit of Christmas." Churches are packed to the brim. If anyone is waging war against Christmas, they must be doing it half-heartedly, and they are certainly failing.
Yes, it is true that stores and people often substitute "happy holidays" for "merry Christmas." I do it myself, if only because I'm not all that fond of repeating myself. I might vary the phrase 20 times between now and December 25. Also, I'm sensitive enough to delete the specific reference when speaking to persons who practice other faiths. The idea is not to pretend Christmas doesn't exist, but to emulate the angels, and spread "peace on earth, goodwill to men," to everyone regardless of beliefs or the lack thereof.
To get worked up over how people express seasonal greetings is to take offense where none is intended, and to make war where peace is needed. The fact that children may be singing "Frosty the Snowman" instead of "Away in the Manger" when at school is not a big deal, as long as they are singing "Silent Night" in the churches where they commune with the other 85% of the population who holds similar views.
Another thing "everybody" apparently knows is that most rape reports are false, and that women who advocate for rape victims hate men. These ideas were particularly startling to learn, as I've been working in the field for 10 years and never had a clue. I continue to see far more women who don't report rapes than those who do, and I virtually never come across one who reported a rape maliciously. And as for hating men - that would certainly come as a surprise to the many wonderful men who enrich my life, starting with my father, husband, and son and moving into the host of friends who make my work and leisure challenging and rewarding.
However, there has been an outpouring of hostility on the web concerning a case in which a rape victim was found guilty of making a false report after the state attorney's office failed to prosecute. The judge may have had good reasons for his decision, but at the present time they remain known only to himself. What is important, though, is the unleashing of vitriol by men and women exulting in "finally" seeing justice granted to the three men originally accused of rape (they said the sex was consensual). There appears to be a great deal more anger channeled toward women who may be false accusers than against men who may be true offenders.
The controversy reminds me of a video I use in training professionals dealing with victims and offenders, in which the offender (whose guilt is unknown at this point in the tape) is discussing his martyrdom, and he mentions "80% of the time, the victim is believed." When I show this to law enforcement officers, they nod and express approval, even though they have all just told me they don't believe victims even 10% of the time until a thorough investigation, should it occur, proves every statement she made is correct. When I show the film to advocates, therapists and other social service professionals, they just snort at this point. It may all just be a matter of perception, but in general, the perception is not in favor of the victim.
Other things I don't know are that Hilary Clinton is a dangerous radical bent on destroying America, that the term "Democrat" is synonymous with "traitor," and that "intelligent design" is a respected scientific theory. Perhaps my ignorance stems from my refusal to watch Fox News, or to read anything written by Ann Coulter. This could prove to be a real hole in my education.
On the other hand, I never thought for a second that Saddam had weapons of mass destruction, nor did I look forward to witnessing an Iraqi population overwhelmed with gratitude for an American occupation.
Ignorance may not be bliss, but it is something.
