From Civil Rights to Selfishness

My nap was ruined today because I made the mistake of visiting a website devoted to "feminist blogs." And, these ladies weren't just discussing how to tell off your bigoted boss or the best way to light bras on fire. No, they were talking about politics--specifically the "inequality" which still exists and "reproductive rights" (read: freedom to kill babies) which they deserve.

By the time I had read two or three headlines, I was too worked up to sleep. I tried to relax, but I kept daydreaming about slapping a self-absorbed feminist--right in the middle of her speech about empowerment of anyone fortunate enough to be born with ovaries.

What bugs me is the mindset behind this particular brand of feminism, which also plays a role in Black Power struggles and the political demands coming from lower-and-middle class folk. All of them have the same mantra: "I deserve________." The philosophy stemmed from the Civil Rights Movement, when the blacks of this nation were correct in saying, "I deserve equality." But, the mindset has been polluted badly since then. Now, simple pride in your race, gender, or sexual orientation has become an elaborate form of selfishness.

I wrote along these lines for a class once. And, since I don't have time for a lengthy post today, you get to read that recycled piece.

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***I'm writing an essay on the African American response to 'failed policy' from 1970 to the present for my black history class. So far, I've enjoyed the class, and the way the black culture evolved and thrived despite oppression is pretty remarkable. However, now that we're looking at the contemporary era, I'm getting frusterated. It's becoming more clear to me how the entire nation shifted from support of EQUAL rights toward the self-absorbed "My Rights" mess we're in now. Here's what I'd LIKE to say in my paper:

The Civil Rights movement was a beautiful point in history because a group of oppressed people banded together and slowly helped abolish unjust laws which had been keeping them from pursuing happiness. This process is what the forefathers intended when they proposed “a government run by the people,” and blacks—along with other minority groups who caught the movement's spirit—proved U.S. citizens COULD change policies that didn't work.

But, I'm afraid much of what has been labeled “unjust” and “failed policy” since then has resulted from Americans of all colors mistaking the right to pursue happiness for the right to have a government which makes them happy.

I don't think most people understand that the Civil Rights movement is inspirational because of how unfair America's laws were at the time. The Movement was necessary because segregation and discrimination were legal, which clearly unleveled the playing field and contradicted the Constitution's guarantee that all men have the same shot at being happy. However, much of the dissatisfaction and controversy today comes from people with that same Civil Rights Spirit, carrying a very different message. The groups are just as angry at the government and just as determined to get results, but instead of saying, “I want my fair chance at a good life,” they're complaining, “Washington hasn't made my life good yet!”

It was during the seventies that oppressed people started coming out of the woodwork and--here's what gets me--ARGUING over whose troubles were worse! Feminism began to flourish, but when white women appealed to black women as "sisters," black women said whites didn't really know suffering because of their priveledged race. Then, black feminists created the NBFO to discuss the issues specifically affecting their race and gender. But, less than a year later, the poor members were unhappy, saying the organization only dealt with middle class trouble. AND the black lesbians claimed the organization ignored gay rights.

So, who needed more advocacy? Blacks? Women? The poor? Gays? When reading this part of the textbook, I'm really confused about who to feel sorry for. Usually the "heros" are much more clear, such as Martin Luther King Jr. who encouraged his race to endure hardships peacefully, always asking for the same simple thing over and over and over, until blacks couldn't be ignored. But when it comes to the 70's, I've just decided not to feel sorry for anybody.

The fact is, it's much easier to support a group like MLK's which has a clear strategy and is willing to die for the cause than it is to support several groups of whiners. I guess the biggest question I have is, what else did they want the government to do? If everyone is being oppressed, isn't no one being oppressed? Doesn't that mean the playing field is level, which gives everyone the same chances? Do these groups really believe that straight, white men have ZERO troubles and are single-handedly responsible for the problems of every body else?

The only solution would be passing laws which intentionally held white men down and gave a special boost to anyone who felt unfairly treated. (Then again, I guess we call that "affirmative action"). And, I suppose the government could give loads of money to places where the Church should be stepping in. (We could call it 'Welfare.') And, maybe it would appease the people who just need recognition if we establish holidays like Gay Awareness Week or Black History Month.

Please excuse my sarcasm, Dr. Kneeland, but you see, I believe very strongly that laws do not change people's hearts and minds. So, if feminists, gays, African-Americans, and even straight, white men are asking the government to force "equal" treatment on a national level, if they're asking the government to hand them jobs and guarantee housing, if they're asking the government to keep making laws and setting up programs until oppressed people are happy, every policy will be a failed policy. _____

This Post is NOT About the Baby

I'm struggling here, guys.

I'd love to tell you funny or inspiring stories about my adventures in selflessness, but I have been THE MOST SELFISH PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE the last few weeks... I get up, go to work and put some kids on the bus, come back home, sleep, go back to work in time to put my students to sleep, then I think about how hungry I am or how soon I will be able to sleep again. (Please Note: I did not mention the reason I'm feeling hungry and tired all the time.)

Seriously, my productivity is hovering around zero, and--though I'm still on target to finish reading the Bible in a year--I haven't allowed God much opportunity to speak. Then again, maybe He's trying to tell me something through my crazy-hormone dreams, in Old Testament style fasion. In that case, I need to find a modern Joseph to explain the meaning of a vision in which I climb the church tower and discover some electronic box, which immediately starts counting down from 30 seconds. When it reaches zero, the church bells start playing a loud, rock song, interrupting prayer, and further causing dead bodies to fall from the ceilings...

Anyway! My point is, I've been very busy being self-absorbed, (again, for an undisclosed reason), and have very little idea what to write about unless I give a shout-out to the member of my household who has taken over the quest to be servant-minded in my temporary absence: my husband.

Oh, also I need to mention that a friend of mine referred me to a website recently, which is run by a very funny 20-something girl--who uses the program "Paint" to illustrate her blog posts. I was told the only thing that could make my blog better was little pictures like this. Ordinarily, I have a strict rule against duplicating someone's good idea unless I can do it better, and I KNOW my artistic skills are not up to par. But, I aim to please. So, consider this an act of service to you personally, Beth. :) You are the only creature other than ME whom I have considered in ten days!

This is precisely what Luke has been going through, in picture form:

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So, no, this post ISN'T about the baby. It's about Luke, who has been so incredibly sweet I would pinch myself if it didn't require so much enery. He even texted me yesterday and said, "Thanks for being so encouraging." (I guess he appreciated the "you rock, Honey?")

Thanks to Beth for the idea for this post, and let this inspire the rest of you to let me know what would make the blog better. I promise it will be at least as pathetic as this attempt! And, before you try to encourage me with, "Yeah, but your depiction of the couch and TV were pretty good!" I must confess. I got tired and asked Luke to draw the last one.

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Editor of IndyStar

(This article appeared on IndyStar.com yesterday. I wrote to the editor, hoping to get published, but knowing I already had my Wednesday letter finished either way!)

Dear Editor,

Recently, I read the article "Challenges Clear for School 61 Kindergarteners," which was posted to indystar.com on Aug. 24th. I must say, I was surprised by the underling suggestion that parents are responsible for their children's underpreparation.

Haven't the reporters at Indy Star heard that teachers are to blame for the downfall of the American Education system? To point fingers at parents--especially the unfortunate, single mothers and low-income families--for the delays of their children is like saying parental duty goes beyond feeding and clothing their offspring.

In today's tough economy, how do we expect overworked and underpaid parents to know a teacher's name and attend important meetings, much less begin instructing their kids at home before Kindergarten? Don't you know parents pay tax dollars to have someone else socialize their children?

The article quoted early childhood professor Mary Benson McMullen, but failed to recognize her statement for the enlightenment is was: "Children don't need to be ready for [teachers]. [Rather, teachers] need to be ready for each and every child who walks through the door." If those teachers can't reverse a few bad habits (like being unable to speak) by the end of the school year, then why are we paying them the big bucks?

Clearly, what we need is a more centralized government--to throw money and policies at our education system. Also, we could do with more bonuses and other incentives to motivate those lazy teachers trying to amass a fortune in their careers without having to work. Finally, we should tell the administrators complaining about the unready students to lighten up and do their job! This situation is bound to happen during a child's first year, when people get crazy ideas like "parents should be involved in education."

Insincerely,
An Indiana Teacher

P.S. Perhaps our school district should work toward after-school programming that allows teachers to take their students home, feed them dinner, and put them to bed. Some kids in my class still struggle with a spoon and fork, toileting, and other self-help operations, and--again--I know parents are busy. I'm just looking for ways to do my job better.

I Just Can't Hide It...

Actually, I hope to "hide it" physically for several more months. But I can't hide the ridiculous grin on my face or the uncontrollable urge to sing and dance. I've long said I'm my own worse secret keeper, and that remains true.

I'm a few days late in posting because I couldn't type while clamping my hands over my mouth. All I wanted to do was tell the world that something else was late! But, I'm a firm believer Mom and Dad (rather "Grandma and Grandpa") need to know first. So I simply avoided my blog the whole weekend.

Luke knew I was no longer on the pill and that my monthly visitor was taking her sweet time. But, I started getting PMS-like cramps on Monday, and it only had been a couple weeks since we stopped preventing. Surely that's not enough time... Just to be sure, I took one of the two tests I brought, and it was negative. So, that settled it.

But, on Saturday morning, when Aunt Flo still hadn't made an appearance, I couldn't resist taking the other test. Negative... with maybe a hint of a verticle line. No, I was imagining things.
I was so irritated by my own delusions, I almost threw the test away. Really. But, every second made that little blue screen look more like a plus sign. And my first thought was: "I need more tests."

Too bad it was 7:oo in the morning and I wasn't dressed, showered, or finished with my grocery list. (As excited as I was, I'm still too practical to leave the house without buying everything I need in one trip.) Then, all those things took twice as long to accomplish, since I had to walk back to the counter every 2 minutes to make sure the plus sign stayed put.

Finally I made it to Aldi, then Walmart, where I picked up my groceries for the week, three more tests, and a couple yellow burp clothes. I knew I couldn't wait for Luke to get home that night before telling him, so I made plans to meet him at work on his break. Then I went home to take two more tests. Since I still was pregnant, I wrapped all three positive tests in the new burp clothes and put them in a gift bag for the Daddy-to-Be.

This is where I had two hours of alone time--just me and God, enjoying the secret. And I haven't experienced that kind of intimacy with my Father in a long while. I couldn't stop smiling. There was no stopping the praises. God managed to shock me, comfort me, scare me, and bless me, all at the same time, and I've never been more full of praise. (Maybe that speaks to the bad job I've done of praising in the past, but it just was so easy and natural in those few hours...)

I was thrilled with Luke's response when I saw him later. He showed disbelief on his face for about three seconds, and then we laughed and laughed and laughed. I honestly didn't expect to feel this euphoric--it's not like we had been trying to conceive for years. But we were so overjoyed that Luke accused me of torture because he had to finish the work day without telling anyone. Right before I left, he said, "We HAVE to visit our parents and tell them THIS WEEKEND, or I will explode."

So, we did.

This is going to be the first grandbaby on both sides--thus, the first time our grandparents are great-grandparents...the first time our cousins are second cousins, etc. Everybody gets a title change, and everybody was bound to be excited no matter how we told them. But we couldn't just make phone calls.

We bought "I love Grandma" bibs for both of our mothers. And I wrote letters to Luke's and my siblings, from the baby. (For instance, one of them said, "Dear Mommy's Brother, I'm writing to ask what I should call you... Uncle Andrew? Uncle Drew? Uncle AJ? I'm just so confused! Let me know soon because I'll be there in May. Love, Baby McKinney")

But, Luke came up with the best idea for surprising my dad, who is a stand-up comedian. Luke sometimes takes jokes or premises to my parents house to bounce them off "the professional." So, he asked Dad to take a look at some of his new material, which Luke labeled with "setup" and "punchline" marks, the way Dad had taught him. But, this time, it read like this:

S: Grandparents Day is Sept. 12th
S: This has always confused me.
S: Wouldn't you want to celebrate it on the day you found out you would be a grandparent?
P: Like, TODAY?
P: Happy Grandparents' Day, Grandpa John.

Unfortunately, I think Dad was a little slow in comprehending. And Mom already was waving around her bib frantically yelling, "Look, John! Look, John!" Pandemonium ensued. My sister accused me of lying. And I enjoyed the experience immensely, whether Luke's "joke" was understood or not.

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Okay, now that I've relayed the majority of the story, I know what you're thinking. Or, I know what I would be thinking if I were you. "For the love of humanity, Amanda, the last thing the internet needs is another blog kept by a proud, baby-obsessed mother with no aim other than to brag on her kids!"

This is true. And I promised my Facebook friends I would not allow the blog to become over-run by baby. (The majority of pictures and shameless bragging will be done on Facebook...no qualms.) But, this pregnancy is a huge milestone in my journey toward selflessness, and already, it is shaking my foundations a little.

For instance, about a week and a half ago, I was the picture of confidence about my future motherhood. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and that I would make mistakes. I knew pregnancy itself would get uncomfortable and that I would have to make sacrifices in my diet and activities. And I knew my relationship with Luke would be changed forever.

But, I did NOT expect to fall into worry mode within hours of the test results. What have I eaten the last few days?! Is the drywall dust in the living room poisoning the little one? What about the cleaners I've been using? WHAT IF I TELL EVERYBODY I'M PREGNANT AND I LOSE THIS BABY?

I know lots of people who discover a pregnancy early, celebrate with friends and family, and then suffer terrible loss a few weeks later. The doctor doesn't even want to see me until the end of next month, and I know it's because this method "weeds out" the women who will miscarry before their first appointment. My mom, grandmothers, and aunts all have experienced strong, healthy pregnancies--as far as we know--but I have been plagued by doubts and fears every time I stop celebrating for more than a minute. And this is not godly.

This is a weakness of which I am trusting God to purge me.

In my study of trials, pain, and the way God uses them to teach us lessons, I sometimes go too far in allowing myself to suffer. And, in many cases, I readily hand my happiest moments over to Satan, rather than appear emotionally unstable--too euphoric.

Luke and I started dating at 16, and rather than indulge completely in puppy love, I worried what friends and acquaintances would think about such a young couple. When we married at 20, I was afraid to let myself enjoy the moment, because I felt the world was waiting for us to fail. Statistics are stacked against us.

And we're still very young! Luke hasn't quite finished school, and our home isn't close to being ready. Do people say "congratulations" one minute, and "it's too soon to celebrate" the next? Worse: since I'm only 4-5 weeks along, could they be right?

Friends, please pray for me. I have a way of struggling with big transitions, as I try to find a sturdy perspective. And, unlike my marriage--in which I can choose to prove the statistics wrong through hard work and committment--I'm forced to leave the health of this baby largely in God's hands. And, the truth is, I'm nervous.

As unexpectedly excited as I am, I'm equally and unexpectedly nervous. And I just can't hide it...
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Okay, and the mood is back up again! I just spent too long confessing the negatives and I want to return to the party in my heart.

I just got an email from my brother, who is serving in Iraq, and he said, "Eat like a sumo wrestler and produce a kid worthy of first place at the State Fair." And Dad told all his friends he isn't allowed to "walk" anymore. (He's supposed to "putter.")
How can I worry when I'm sitting in God's hands and laughing with my loved ones every few minutes?

How Much Does the Thought Count?

I talk a lot about the times our plans to be loving or thoughtful are thwarted by our own selfishness. But what about the times when our intentions are correct and the message still doesn't make it through? Thanks to the auto-correct function in cell phones, this happens with some frequency.

Something happened to my phone several months ago which convinced it to add a question mark whenever it feels like it--especially after the word "you." I won't even try to guess how many times my husband has received the message: "I love you?" or "I'm glad I married you?"

Three-letter words are the most dangerous, as my mother-in-law proved the day she sent a very urgent-sounding text: "Get has now. You will have to say 30 bent more tonight!" (Translation: Gas prices are about to spike....They'll go up about 30 "bents.") And my dad routinely struggles with the word "home," since his phone prefers, "I'll be good soon."

But, I sent my favorite scrambled message one day last winter, after I slid all the way to work on the ICY streets and warned my husband: "Be careful. The roads are very gay."

In these situations, it really was the thought that counted. Most text messages don't carry critical information. (Though, Luke had to clarify just how, exactly, to prepare for gay roads.) But, when we're involved in serving others, we need to be aware our actions are extremely important--more so than our intentions.

People live by the "thought counts" rule when they make a mistake themselves, but we tend to assume the worst when someone else errs. Take the example of the Ground Zero Mosque...everybody seems to think the Muslims want to build on that property just to pour salt on America's wounds. But few consider the possibility that Muslims see it as a chance to reverse the negative impression on New York. Could their move be an attempt to live in harmony rather than incite everyone taking it personally?

Along those lines, how many times have Christians made terrible mistakes in their efforts to "witness" because they don't understand other cultures? If we take tracts and Bibles to tribes that are starving--rather than food--is it still the thought that counts? At least we aren't a "radical," "militant" religious group bent on attacking freedom everywhere, right? The people of the world should understand our hearts are in the right place and accept our charity as we intended it.

Or..... just maybe.... until we can judge others solely on their intentions, we should be very careful that our eyes, hands, and feet always convey the message of our hearts.

Thanks again for reading, guys! I really appreciate you?

Write -a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Luke

Dear Luke,

You have been the epitome of selflessness this week.

I've been exhausted, and--even now--it's all I can do to write the "Wednesday Letter" and drag myself to bed. But, for this reason, the laundry was left to you, the dishes fell to you, and I just didn't have the energy to grocery shop, either. I know you put AT LEAST 8 hours of work in the living room yesterday, when I was at the daycare, and, I almost forgot, you cleaned the cat pan and mowed the yard at some point, too. Thank you for all of that.

But, more importantly, thank you for the attitude you've had the entire time. You have modeled cheerful giving, despite pain in your neck from painting the ceiling, dust in your nostrils from sanding the walls, and the noise in your ear from my end-of-the-day grumbling. Even as busy as you are--and as whiny as I've been--you keep smiling, letting me vent, and showering me with hugs and kisses.

I'm not sure where you're getting your energy, but it hasn't been from my encouragement. And that's the point of today's letter. I'm sorry I haven't been any help, and I've even been a hindrance at times. I want you to know I've noticed your hard work, and I appreciate it more than my exhausted mind can express.

Thank you for being more than a teammate the last few days. "Team" implies cooperation, and I've already admitted there has been little of that on my part! Instead, thanks for being someone on whom I can rely completely--someone who takes over when I can't find the strength. Thank you for being a servant.

I love you, Mr. McKinney.
~ME~

Serving Made Easier

The television program I was planning to watch tonight is featuring an eating contest. (Read: lots of vomit.)
SO, since yet another primetime show is confusing puke with entertainment, I decided to share a link while I wait for the fun to end.

Here's an awesome resource for people in the Fort Wayne area looking to get their hands dirty in service...

It's a database of real people asking for help with real projects. Or, anyone can submit a request to have people in the community help them meet a need of their own. It's a great system--totally free. And it goes to prove neighbors helping neighbors is the best way to get something done... (Other than begging the White House for hand-outs, of course. I'm sure that method will pan out soon.)

And, you should know there are NeighborLinks organizations popping up in other cities, too. So search for one near you if Fort Wayne is a bit of a drive (or plane ride).

No more excuses. Requests for your service have been listed for you.

And for the daycare quote of the week:
"Watch me! I'm going to hit the homiest run in the world!"