It is Pride here in MA. Tomorrow is the parade in Boston and we are going with friends. It will be nice. I am happy it is Pride and thrilled to live in the most free state in the Union. I just feel a bit lack luster cause I have Hester's most recent cold. I secretly want to stay in bed and sleep. But Pride comes once a year (unless you travel about going to the different major cities' Pride celebrations making it last for a month or more) and I need to perk up and be gay.
Note to self: do not share ice cream cones with daughter who has a cold.
13 June, 2008
07 June, 2008
Hospital Q
A few things have happened at work over the past few months that have been uncomfortable for me as a queer person. One that is more recent and has stuck with me for a while was when a coworker wanted to play for me the two gay songs from the musical "Avenue Q." She thought I would find them funny; I did not. Alright, the songs were mildly amusing but the fact she thought I would like them because I am gay did not thrill me at all. As I sat there listening to songs who's main theme was the fear of coming out, I watched her chortle until she was nearly in tears. I was not amused at all at this point. When the songs ended, I said I had to go see a patient or something and left. I did not tell her my feelings about the songs for a) everyone in my dept. is thrilled about "Avenue Q" currently, b) I don't want to come off as the angry militant dyke, and c) I wanted to think about my reaction.
I talked with Clementine that evening about it. She understood where i was coming from and said she would feel about the same too. She said she thought I was upset because it is a musical for younger people and I am too old for it. I heard what she was saying and agreed to a point. But i thought it was something more.
I was upset that my coworker, who probably has never had to live in the closet, fearful to be her true self because of family, church, societal rejection, loosing a job, loosing housing, violence, self-fear/loathing, etc., was getting her jollies listening to a song about having a beard (made up or fake girlfriend for a gay man). I have been in the position to fear coming out of the closet, fearful of society, loosing my internship, loosing friends, loosing housing, scorn, and violence. I have been there when the pressures to be your honest true self are warring with the pressures to hide and you feel like one will cause you to explode while the other will crush you. That was years ago but I remember it well. More recently, despite living very out and open, every day there are options and choices to make of do i come out to this person or not, do I say something to the librarian, the plumber, the patient's mother, the waitress, etc. How dare she laugh at this, this woman who has no idea, no hint of understanding of what it is to be under these pressures. How dare she laugh and share it with me, expecting me to find it funny because I am gay?
It could be the thing where when you are a minority, it is OK to poke fun at yourself and the group to which you belong but if you are part of the majority, it is not cool to poke fun at a minority group. Some language and jokes can be off-limits for members of the majority. Like Clementine can call me a dyke but if my straight coworkers cannot. If Clementine had played the song for me, I may have had a totally different experience and laughed my ass off, but that is because she knows. My coworker, from what I can tell, does not know. Not at all.
It seems to be a culture at the hospital to share anti-queer comments with me too, as they look to me to support their f'd up viewpoints. Comments have been made to me about a transgender kid who comes in periodically to the hospital. Many of us have known this kid since early school age and now the kid is a teen. We have known him as a boy who loved Barbie. Now she appears to be living as a woman. And my coworkers think it is OK to come to me with comments about her appearance and what she chooses to wear. They think I will understand and sympathize with their discomfort. I try to educate but it falls on deaf ears and the more I try the worse it gets.
I reached the end of my rope about it and emailed management that I have heard these comments. I pointed out how it creates a unsafe environment for the queer and transgender kids at the hospital. They listened and are working to provide education to the staff about GLBTQ issues. They even asked my input on possible speakers. Good, huh?
Well, I guess it is time for this because the head of the nurse education staff told me that she had to Google LGBTQ to find out what it stood for. She thought it was funny she did not know.
I talked with Clementine that evening about it. She understood where i was coming from and said she would feel about the same too. She said she thought I was upset because it is a musical for younger people and I am too old for it. I heard what she was saying and agreed to a point. But i thought it was something more.
I was upset that my coworker, who probably has never had to live in the closet, fearful to be her true self because of family, church, societal rejection, loosing a job, loosing housing, violence, self-fear/loathing, etc., was getting her jollies listening to a song about having a beard (made up or fake girlfriend for a gay man). I have been in the position to fear coming out of the closet, fearful of society, loosing my internship, loosing friends, loosing housing, scorn, and violence. I have been there when the pressures to be your honest true self are warring with the pressures to hide and you feel like one will cause you to explode while the other will crush you. That was years ago but I remember it well. More recently, despite living very out and open, every day there are options and choices to make of do i come out to this person or not, do I say something to the librarian, the plumber, the patient's mother, the waitress, etc. How dare she laugh at this, this woman who has no idea, no hint of understanding of what it is to be under these pressures. How dare she laugh and share it with me, expecting me to find it funny because I am gay?
It could be the thing where when you are a minority, it is OK to poke fun at yourself and the group to which you belong but if you are part of the majority, it is not cool to poke fun at a minority group. Some language and jokes can be off-limits for members of the majority. Like Clementine can call me a dyke but if my straight coworkers cannot. If Clementine had played the song for me, I may have had a totally different experience and laughed my ass off, but that is because she knows. My coworker, from what I can tell, does not know. Not at all.
It seems to be a culture at the hospital to share anti-queer comments with me too, as they look to me to support their f'd up viewpoints. Comments have been made to me about a transgender kid who comes in periodically to the hospital. Many of us have known this kid since early school age and now the kid is a teen. We have known him as a boy who loved Barbie. Now she appears to be living as a woman. And my coworkers think it is OK to come to me with comments about her appearance and what she chooses to wear. They think I will understand and sympathize with their discomfort. I try to educate but it falls on deaf ears and the more I try the worse it gets.
I reached the end of my rope about it and emailed management that I have heard these comments. I pointed out how it creates a unsafe environment for the queer and transgender kids at the hospital. They listened and are working to provide education to the staff about GLBTQ issues. They even asked my input on possible speakers. Good, huh?
Well, I guess it is time for this because the head of the nurse education staff told me that she had to Google LGBTQ to find out what it stood for. She thought it was funny she did not know.
05 June, 2008
Mystic Aquarium
Hester, Clementine and I went on our Mystical Fish Adventure last weekend and had a wonderful time. The adventure was a trip to Mystic, CT. There we went to the Mystic Aquarium (fun), Mystic Pizza (yum), toodling around the downtown area, and watching a Memorial Day parade.
Here are some pictures.
PS. Don't go to Mystic Aquarium on Memorial Day Weekend unless you love large unruly crowds.
more tar
Also, last night, during dinner, a song came on a CD and Hester started pointing into the living room and saying all sorts of stuff that neither of us knew what she was saying. She was very insistent. We tried to figure it out and I finally caught the word "tar" in it. I realized I played the song on the CD for her on my guitar once last week. I asked if she was saying she wanted me to play the song for her again on my guitar and she smiled and said "tar."
What a memory on this kid!
What a memory on this kid!
04 June, 2008
Commuting Green
So, as you have noted from my previous posts, the price of gas is on my mind. Very much on my mind. It costs way too much now and I have heard analysts on NPR talk about it getting as high as $7 a gallon. $7!!!! Holy Crap, that is a lot of money.
Currently, I work a 4 day work week, two 12 hour shifts and two 8 hour shifts. The commuter rail schedule to my town is not very good, as I have said on many occasions. On Wednesday and Thursday, my 8 hour days, I take the commuter rail in and home. It leaves the station at 5:43 AM and I get back to the station at 6:30 PM. Gross, but OK. On my late days, I get off at 8:30 PM and the next train home is at 10 something which arrives at 11:45 PM. Hence, my driving two days.
To be more economical, I have been parking at Riverside and taking the Green line into Boston. It is long but OK. But even driving there is 30 miles each way. With gas, toll, parking, wear and tear, that is a lot of money.
I looked at my schedule and the train schedule and believe I can modify my hours on Tuesday to be able to take the 8:20 PM train to be home by 10 PM, saving one round trip worth of gas. That is good, right? But on Fridays, I have to be there until 8:30 PM. There is no changing my schedule. If I were to be good, I would take the train home and be home at midnight. But that makes me so upset and frustrated.
So what should I do, blog friends? Be a good green citizen, conserve gas, keep our costs lower, and take the train every day, even though I will get home at midnight after leaving that morning at 5:43 AM? Do I increase our costs, use fossil fuels and drive in on Fridays, which will get me home between 10 and 11 PM (depending on the Green Line and Red Sox games)? Help me out and give me your opinion.
Currently, I work a 4 day work week, two 12 hour shifts and two 8 hour shifts. The commuter rail schedule to my town is not very good, as I have said on many occasions. On Wednesday and Thursday, my 8 hour days, I take the commuter rail in and home. It leaves the station at 5:43 AM and I get back to the station at 6:30 PM. Gross, but OK. On my late days, I get off at 8:30 PM and the next train home is at 10 something which arrives at 11:45 PM. Hence, my driving two days.
To be more economical, I have been parking at Riverside and taking the Green line into Boston. It is long but OK. But even driving there is 30 miles each way. With gas, toll, parking, wear and tear, that is a lot of money.
I looked at my schedule and the train schedule and believe I can modify my hours on Tuesday to be able to take the 8:20 PM train to be home by 10 PM, saving one round trip worth of gas. That is good, right? But on Fridays, I have to be there until 8:30 PM. There is no changing my schedule. If I were to be good, I would take the train home and be home at midnight. But that makes me so upset and frustrated.
So what should I do, blog friends? Be a good green citizen, conserve gas, keep our costs lower, and take the train every day, even though I will get home at midnight after leaving that morning at 5:43 AM? Do I increase our costs, use fossil fuels and drive in on Fridays, which will get me home between 10 and 11 PM (depending on the Green Line and Red Sox games)? Help me out and give me your opinion.
03 June, 2008
Tar
Many people at work or who know I am a music therapist ask me if Hester likes it when I play the guitar. Embarassed, I mumble some answer and try to get away from that conversation quickly. You see, I had not played my guitar for Hester until last week. It wasn't an active choice to not play, I just don't play much at home cause I play all day at work. After someone saying something about that last week, I thought about it all the way home on the train. I decided to institute guitar time after dinner a few nights a week.
Hester liked it immediately and learned the word guitar, which she says as "tar." She likes to try to strum it and grab the neck. She also likes to slip her little hand and arm into the sound hole.
I am really happy to share this gift with Hester.
02 June, 2008
First 100 Words
One of Hester's first 100 words (and one of her clearer words) is vulva.
It started one day when she grabbed her vulva and said "yuck." This came about because when we change her poop diapers, we try to keep her from grabbing the diaper or the poop by saying "yuck." This works pretty good. But then I was horrified to see that she had generalized the "yuck" to the area not just the poop. So I started explaining to her that poop was yuck but her vulva was not. I taught her the word for vulva so she did not call it "yuck." Clearly, she likes the word and has learned it for she says vulva nearly every diaper change now and will point to her vulva.
She also learned "cuckoo" today. However, despite my teaching, she did not learn to say "mama cuckoo." Bummer.
It started one day when she grabbed her vulva and said "yuck." This came about because when we change her poop diapers, we try to keep her from grabbing the diaper or the poop by saying "yuck." This works pretty good. But then I was horrified to see that she had generalized the "yuck" to the area not just the poop. So I started explaining to her that poop was yuck but her vulva was not. I taught her the word for vulva so she did not call it "yuck." Clearly, she likes the word and has learned it for she says vulva nearly every diaper change now and will point to her vulva.
She also learned "cuckoo" today. However, despite my teaching, she did not learn to say "mama cuckoo." Bummer.
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