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Sep 8, 2012

When Your Political Tweet Is Retweeted Astray

By ·

This may be my longest post ever. Hang in there, it’s worth it. I hope.

Look, I dislike talking politics on my blog. This is where I write about my family and my personal thoughts on all sorts of topics from parenting to special needs to finding long enough shorts for girls to OMG did you see what Lady Gaga wore at that award show! to my own experiences growing up.

I know I have readers who feel differently than I do regarding politics and for many things I’m willing to accept our differences. Many of you know my political views, and either share them or are kind enough to quietly agree to disagree and focus on what we have in common instead. (And in return, I don’t go to anyone else’s blog and tell them they’re wrong, either. It’s just kinda rude.)

In the social media spheres of Twitter and Facebook, though, I’ve often been more forward with my beliefs. As opposed to a blog, which is also public but more of a “this is my home” space, I feel that Twitter and Facebook are more like being out in the community at large. You’ve got lots of ideas and thoughts all converging in one public area, with no single person in control of them (other than the handy block button), and so it’s a space to indulge in our differences as well as our commonalities. It’s fun, and I even learn a few things from time to time.

Usually any political tweets I write are sent out into my small group of followers. I may get a few retweets or responses, and even occasionally a negative response, but usually they don’t get a lot of notice.

I didn’t expect more than that as I tweeted along while watching the Republican National Convention last week. I watched because I believe it’s important to know the views and plans of everyone running for office, even if I disagree with their beliefs.

And during that time, I wrote several tweets that might have angered my more conservative friends, although in criticizing the candidates I made efforts to not lump all who may vote for them in the same criticism. We’re a country with millions of different beliefs when you look at all issues combined, and I recognize that no single candidate represents the exact beliefs of any single person other than the candidate. We’re pretty little snowflakes in our beliefs: all unique.

I was upset by many things said in those speeches, though. And on the last night, with the whole week culminating with Mr. Romney’s acceptance speech, I had reached my “enough” point and decided I didn’t just want to voice my opinion, I wanted to do something else about it, too.

This resulted in my lesson in (insert booming announcer voice here)…

How to start a troll-storm on Twitter without intending to do so:

Step 1: Tweet you’re donating money to Obama after watching Romney’s RNC speech.

Step 2: Um, that’s it. Sit back and watch the hate roll in.

Yeah, not my most brilliantly written tweet. Had I known this tweet would go wild, I’d have changed a few words. Or at least switched to my fashion model profile pic.

Let me point out, I wrote things that some people could have interpreted to be FAR more offensive in the tweets immediately before that one. I have no idea why that one was singled out. If I knew, I’d have a far more well-read blog because I’d have unlocked the secrets to social media SEO.

A few retweets of that tweet began, then a few more, then my Twitter stream blew up in a jumble of retweets, replies of praise, and a whole lot of mean.

Following the trail of retweets didn’t help me find how I ended up in the tweet cross-hairs of so many who were determined to unleash their venom on me. It might have been a journalist of a liberal magazine (I don’t know it, but clearly a lot of others do) who retweeted my statement, which somehow got it onto the screens of a bunch of people who don’t feel the same as me.

I was in shock as I saw all of the replies and mentions rolling across my Tweetdeck, most filled with negative assumptions about my intelligence, my financial status, my employment status, and just simply a lot of name calling. So much bitterness and contempt, all because I said I really didn’t like Romney’s speech and decided to donate a small amount to Obama?

And then…I decided to reply to nearly every single one.

Why?

Some friends noticed and warned me not to go down that path, for that way lies madness. But here’s the thing: I seriously dislike random hostility on the Internet. The disassociation between a username and a human being on the other side of that username is a problem for many people in this society, and sometimes they just need to be reminded of it.

Would you be talking with friends at a large party, hear a stranger nearby say what I wrote in my tweet (not directly to you), and then turn around and immediately yell insults at that person? Probably not.

So why would you launch into a similar attack online, unless you either get a thrill of arguing where you can safely hide behind the anonymity of the Internet (very possible, although probably a mental disorder in need of therapy, too) or you’ve become so polarized that you forget there is another person, another American if you want to get patriotic, on the other side of that username.

What happened?

So I responded, with the best kindergarten manners I could muster. I was civil in response, courteous even. The worst thing I wrote to anyone was “Well, that’s not a very nice way to say hello to someone for the first time.” Because – let’s face it – it’s not. I don’t generally start a conversation with a stranger by insulting them.

Some immediately assumed that we were living on government assistance or abusing “their” money by donating to a political campaign. That was an easy response: we’re employed. In the private sector, even. All of our money is earned through our work. A few then asked if I thought President Obama was responsible for our jobs. The best reply I had there was, “Well, I sincerely doubt he personally phoned in the favor, but our companies are doing well enough to hire us.”

For those who suggested I was “poor” because of Obama’s policies, I simply responded that in 2008 we were unemployed. We now have jobs we enjoy, we have a house and cars, we can pay our bills, and we even have a little extra for entertainment and to help others. I’d call that a huge improvement over 2008.

If they suggested we’re still not well off because of the president, I countered with the point that we’re content with our lives and asked them if we needed to be incredibly wealthy in order to be consider successful? Can’t success also be defined as a job well done and a happy family? I also reminded a few that if having a house, two cars, and the ability to pay our bills – even if we don’t have a lot of extra money – is considered poor to them, then they might want to re-evaluate their definition of poor. There are so many who are far more in need of help.

A couple of people then accused me of being dishonest in my tweet, trying to make it sound like we were more poor than we were. We had paychecks coming the next day. True, but I think I precisely proved the point that nuance is lost in soundbites.

Side note: Am I right? I hate this culture of soundbites. People need to be given all of the information and allowed to make their own conclusions. Dumbing down politics results in important topics being condensed into 2-3 sentence summaries that end up sounding little like the original, complex idea.

Sometimes a topic can’t be summarized that easily. Theories of astrophysics are complicated. That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with them or they’re trying to hide something or they’re wrong; it means they’re complex topics that need more than a few sentences to be fully considered. Same goes for economics. Or health care. Or any other number of topics.

Some people then tried to engage me in political debate. I wasn’t looking to debate those who had no intention of considering other points of view and were simply looking for weaknesses to call out. Besides, 140 characters is no way to conduct a debate over political theory. So for them I politely declined, stated neither of us were likely to change our positions and Twitter was a lousy forum for debate, and asked that we agree to disagree.

And then there were those who responded only with name calling or off-topic insults. I did block them without a response. If you can’t stay on topic, then you don’t get to play. 

The Results

These nasty responses continued through the overnight hours, all day long on Friday, and then slowly tapered off through the weekend. 205 people made that tweet a favorite. I received 1,065 retweets (so far), many kind responses, and well over a hundred negative responses as well. I never took the time to tally them all, but there may have even been 150 or 200. I responded to nearly a hundred. (And blocked several.)

Amusingly, I discovered many of the people who lashed out over my tweet later blocked me. Was it something I said?

Not surprisingly, few people replied to my first response to them. I guess they got their “slam” out, felt better, and proceeded to move on to the next victim.

Several did respond, though, and if they were intelligent responses (whether I agreed with them or not) I usually replied again. A few even apologized after I pointed out their tweet wasn’t a very nice way to say hello. Kindergarten manners for the WIN!

Some people changed their tone with me after their assumptions about my family taking “handouts” were corrected. Suddenly I was an “ok person” because I held a job and paid my bills. I didn’t feel like pointing out that we survived on unemployment, food stamps and WIC for nearly a year when our state government decided to cut Aaron’s job. Without that public assistance, we probably would have lost our home and cars, defaulted on our debt, had our children go hungry, and had a much more difficult time getting back on our feet again.

Should these people have encountered me back in 2008, would I no longer be an “ok person” to them? I’m saddened by their snap judgments.

 I have NO idea what happened here. 
(Name/face poorly removed out of courtesy.)

A few replied with more rhetoric from their beliefs, and when it was clear we simply held different opinions that neither of us would budge on, I asked that we agree to disagree, vote for who we believe, and hope for the best for everyone in our country. Some were willing to agree. Others tried to debate, which then led to the “twitter is not a good forum for debate” response I mentioned above.

There were a handful that stated they were donating to Romney’s campaign in response to my choice to donate to Obama’s campaign. I’m not sure if they were trying to hurt me somehow by doing so? I congratulated them on their freedom to spend their money how they thought best. Besides, I had WAY more people respond to me saying that I had inspired them to donate to Obama, so it’s possible I came out ahead in that one.

And then a teensy-tiny portion of the meanies? They turned into nice people when I defused them with politeness. We had a respectful, short discussion and wished each other well. I would happily interact with them again, despite our differences in politics.

Unexpected swerve here. But hey, we CAN find common ground: you don’t insult my choice to support a particular candidate, and I won’t assume you’re racist because you support the other guy. I think that’s entirely reasonable! (Name/face again poorly removed out of courtesy.)

Of course, there were plenty of replies of support and good will, and I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for every one of them. (I’m grateful. Very grateful. They kept me going even when I had the urge to throw mud back at some people. My nose? Is NOT horrifying.) My friends and even the new-to-me Twitter folks who tweeted support and love back to me are some pretty great people.

So what did I learn?

I had it reaffirmed that human beings are both amazing and frightening creatures. They can reach the greatest heights of humanity and tolerance or the lowest pits of malevolence in a semi-anonymous forum. I can’t say I’m willing to judge a person entirely on how that person behaves towards someone else in a semi-anonymous forum, and I also would hope to never have my entire character based on one thought. We’re human, we do speak in anger sometimes. 

I refused to attack any of the people who chose to berate me personally in tweets. (Unless my saying they’re not very nice for starting a conversation with an attack is seen as an attack?) These folks thought that a tweet I wrote, stating that I was strongly against Romney’s platform and choosing to donate money to Obama in response to his speech, was worthy of a personal attack on me.

They were mean, even though I had done nothing to insult them personally. I’ve seen plenty of insults hurled at Obama on Twitter – some of which made me very angry – but none that made me want to hurl personal insults back at someone I know nothing about.

The lack of civility among some people when confronted with someone who doesn’t share their set of beliefs is disturbing, and a trend I’d like to see reversed in society.

Do I regret my tweet? No, I don’t. I could have phrased it a little more nicely, I’ll admit, but I don’t regret posting it and I don’t regret my donation. The response that happened gave me a fantastic view of others and helped me evaluate how I respond to others as well.

Do I regret responding to all of these people? Not at all. It was exhausting, for sure, but as I kept sending out the same message of positivity and reassuring these folks that it’s OK to be content with what you have and enjoy a job that doesn’t make you rich, I started to feel even more happy with my life.

It’s funny, because the truth is we don’t have a lot and there are months when we struggle a little to get by. I’m not always happy. Aaron’s job was cut to part-time at the start of June. We can still pay our bills, but the budget is extra lean at the moment. We did have only $50 left in our account last Thursday night, and I spent part of that evening scheduling bills for the next month based on when paychecks would arrive so we’d stay in the positive.

Would I like more money? Well yeah, of course. Do I need more money? Eh, that depends on what you consider a need. A year ago at this time, Aaron worked full time and I had a different job that payed more than I’d ever made before. We had more money. Were we happier? Not really. We went out to eat more, spent more on entertainment, saved some, gave to charity more…but our lives weren’t significantly better as a result. I saw my family a lot less.

Now I have more stress about making ends meet, but those ends are meeting most of the time and I can appreciate it as I pick my daughters up from school or have dinner with my family.

We have so much more than we did in 2008. Are we better off now than we were four years ago? You bet. Even more than money and jobs, though, I’m happy because I can be a person who, when faced with an onslaught of hate and vitriol from people who don’t know me, but choose to define me by 140 characters, I can respond to them with civility, tolerance, and kindness.

If I have those qualities, and can inspire the same in even a few other people, I’m MUCH better off.

Should you want to know my opinion on politics this year, I can sum up a lot of it based on my experience in the last week: we need to focus less on how much money we can keep tightly clutched in our own fists, and focus more on how we can work together to help and support each other, with benevolence and compassion, so we can all succeed.

This is me placing a daisy in the barrel of the Twitter trolls’ rifle.

Filed Under: big issues, clearly insane, me me me, politics, pop culture ·


Aug 9, 2012

That One Time I Walked In A Fashion Show At BlogHer ’12

By ·

You may have seen the reports that while I was at BlogHer ’12, I was in a fashion show.

I know, I know. Stop laughing – I’m serious!

When I was first contacted about participating in the first ever BlogHer fashion show, I almost wondered if I was being punked. Except the email was from Elisa and I know she’d never do that to me. She had noticed me discussing BlogHer fashion on Twitter – of course, I was discussing why my jeans are perfectly acceptable conference wear, since that’s how I dress in real life. My jeans are practically my brand!

I’ll admit I went through a lot of emotions on the subject. First, I was completely flattered to be asked – what an honor that my name was considered to be in such a big event! I’m not a big name blogger by any means, and fashion is not a topic I generally write about.

Another emotion was giddy. Never before in my life have I considered being in a fashion show. Ever. While some little girls dreamed of being a model, I dreamed of being an astronaut. And as I got older – and heavier – it simply wasn’t on my radar. When you’re presented with quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime experience like this, it’s easy to quickly add it to your bucket list.

But then the fear set in. Me. On stage. Dressed up. And walking. Being on stage I can handle, even being on stage and dressed up. But add in walking or talking and I suddenly fear making a fool of myself in front of a crowd. I have lost a lot of weight, and I’m ready to celebrate that, but I’m not model perfect.

Would people make fun of me? The big girl on stage wobbling in her heels? When I was younger I was the fat, ugly girl, a message I internalized after so many others had declared it to be true.

I didn’t want fear to win this time, so I quickly accepted before I could talk myself out of it. But even in the days leading up to it, that nagging voice of low self-esteem kept filling my head with doubt. Even at the fitting it was hard to accept a compliment from anyone. And being unable to fit in the first dress I tried on just provided ammo for that little voice that I would fail. I anxiously awaited Saturday night.

Then the magic happened.

I was still feeling like an ugly ducking as I sat down for makeup just hours before the show. I joked with the Elizabeth Arden team that my usual makeup regimen was face wash and a moisturizer with sunscreen. For special occasions I’d switch to a tinted moisturizer. Rebecca Restrepo, a woman who deserves the title of world-famous makeup artist, took her time and provided tips on how to use makeup to highlight my own natural beauty. She took my own makeup habits into account and created a look that was natural and simply luminous. I glowed.

No really, I love this woman. She works magic.

Next, the Paul Mitchell team took control of my hair. My stylist asked what I’d like, and I showed her a photo of my outfit and gave her free reign to do what she thought best. The finished result was stunning.

We had to wait to get dressed, and I remember going into the bathroom and just staring at myself in the mirror.

bathroom instagram

I was beautiful. But my hair wasn’t drastically different. And my makeup wasn’t that heavy either – hell, she used a tinted moisturizer as a foundation! So with the changes being so minor, why did I feel and look like a different person?

It wasn’t until my dresser had helped me into my outfit (jeans! imagine that!) and I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a different me in the mirror that suddenly it all made sense.

All of this fuss to make me look beautiful for the runway also made me feel beautiful on the inside, and what was reflected in that mirror wasn’t just makeup, hair and clothing, but also an inner beauty and self-confidence that had been hidden for most of my life. A simple trick of prettying the facade had convinced my self-esteem that I really was beautiful now, but logic also kicked in to say look closer – it’s still the same you. You just never noticed.

We were then lined up and prepped backstage for our big moment. The nerves were still there, but they were partially mixed with excitement. I had made a last minute decision to keep my phone with me, and even though we hadn’t rehearsed it, I was going to photograph the crowd at the end of the runway. This was a blogger fashion show, right? Well, that’s what this blogger would be doing in this circumstance!

The walk was a blur. I remember taking a deep breath right before I climbed the stairs to the stage. I remember the cheering and hearing my name, although I couldn’t see out into the crowd because of the lights. I remember letting those cheers fuel my walk as I strutted to the center of the stage.

Photo credit: Mark Von Holden Photography

I remember lifting my sunglasses and giving my best surprised act – omg! look at all of you out there! how ya been? – at the end of the runway. I remember my sunglasses falling low on my nose as I tried to take a photo of the crowd (it didn’t turn out – too bright) and fumbling with my phone as I tried to get it in my coat pocket.

Showing the crowd some photo love. (photo credit: Melisa Wells)

I remember walking back towards the main stage and seeing friends in the front row, yelling and cheering me on, and then as I neared backstage seeing Kelly standing in her row of chairs and whooping as loud as she could. And as I stepped backstage, I remember thinking wait – it’s over? No! I want to go back out!

Now I had all of the confidence in the world. I was unstoppable. I sat backstage while others took their turn on the runway and couldn’t stop smiling.

And after? I felt like a new person. It was amazing. I felt beautiful. Powerful. Worthy. I happily jumped into photos with friends at the CheeseburgHer party. I even photobombed a few folks, too.

Sorry, The Next Martha, I couldn’t resist.

I didn’t want to go to bed that night, mostly because I didn’t want to wash off the makeup. I took self-portraits in my hotel room bathroom before pulling out the face wash, sad to remove this pretty face. But you know what? I still woke up beautiful. (Well, aside from the bedhead and lines on my face from the pillowcase.) Taking off the makeup didn’t remove what I had discovered the night before.

Thank you, BlogHer, Kathryn, Darlene, Sheila, 6pm.com, Elizabeth Arden, Paul Mitchell, Petsmart, all of the other fantastic blogger models, and everyone involved with the fashion show, for giving me the experience of a lifetime, and helping me find my inner beauty.

You helped this 36 year old mom, who has never in her life considered herself worth a second look, much less a fashion show walk, blossom into the swan I always wished I could be. It was there the whole time, but I couldn’t see it until now. Real beauty is feeling comfortable in your own skin, accepting who you are, and loving yourself.

(And a special thank you to two lovely women I had never met before who approached me at CheeseburgHer to tell me how fantastic I was in the fashion show. You have no idea how much your kind words meant to me!)

PS: The full video of the fashion show can be found at BlogHer.com. Elizabeth Arden has a great set of photos from the event, too.

Filed Under: big issues, BlogHer12, love, me me me, shameless bragging, shameless promotion ·


Jul 11, 2012

Dye-Free in a Brightly Colored World

By ·

A few weeks ago Cordy came home from summer camp with bright blue streaks down her legs and blue around her mouth. I could already smell the artificial raspberry flavor, but still asked her about how she ended up covered in blue. “We had popsicles at camp!” she happily explained.

“But sweetie, you know brightly colored foods aren’t good for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied, “but it was a special treat!”

And that special treat left her distracted and less in control for days. Sigh.

When summer camp started, I asked about bringing in dye-free foods for snack time. They said we could but that it probably wasn’t necessary, as they were making efforts at healthy snacks this year and couldn’t think of any that would have dyes in them. Fruit, water, all-natural lemonade, graham crackers, cheese sticks, etc – all safe for Cordy to eat. With that knowledge, and a reminder to everyone about Cordy needing to avoid food dyes, I assumed we were in the clear when it came to snacks.

I guess I didn’t factor in “special” treats. Her class takes several field trips, and as a result they sometimes get a treat for the kids when they’re out and about. Cordy is aware that artificial food dyes make her feel bad and that she shouldn’t eat them, but she’s also a seven year old who, at that age, would have to show the impulse control of a zen master to say no to a treat when everyone else was getting one.

We consider her reaction to artificial food dyes an “allergy” even though it technically isn’t. It’s listed on all of her medical forms under allergy simply because it’s too complicated to provide the full explanation. Allergy produces a better response from others than “sensitivity” so that’s what we call it to get their attention. Only it still gets overlooked by teachers and caregivers far too often. It’s not life-threatening so therefore it isn’t given the same consideration as a peanut or shellfish allergy.

But we know it’s there. We’ve seen the difference between Cordy exposed to food dyes and Cordy without them. When she’s dye-free (and by that I mean hasn’t had any in over a week), she’s calmer, better able to focus, and seems more present in our world. Her repetitive behaviors (pacing back and forth, flapping, etc) are decreased, too. She’s more in control of herself and seems happier as a result.

When she was younger, people tried to tell me it wasn’t the dyes – we were just giving her too much sugar. So I set up my own test. I kept her dye free for over a week, then gave her a sucker (rock candy) that had no dye in it – pure sugar only. No reaction.

Days later, I gave her the same thing, only this one was bright blue with artificial coloring. Forty minutes later, the signs were there: she couldn’t sit still, she was irritable, emotionally out-of-control, and she wasn’t as interactive with us. She stayed like that for days, just from one little blue sucker. It was a frightening realization.

We’re not perfect with keeping her dye free, but we try to minimize the damage. Still, it’s very hard to find treats free of dyes. Annie’s makes fruit snacks without the artificial coloring. And Welch’s has all natural freeze-and-eat juice popsicles that look very similar to the artificial junk ones.

I also was recently told about Unreal, a line of candy that is free of artificial food dyes, but still looks and tastes like many of the popular candies we see everyday. It’s just rolling out, so it’s still hard to find, but I did manage to track down and buy it at Michael’s craft store. Their version of M&Ms? Really good.

So after the blue popsicle incident, we brought a bag full of Cordy’s treats to her summer camp to hand out to her when others are getting treats she can’t have. She’s usually pretty understanding about it, especially when we can give her some of the more yummy treats. But I know she longs for Starburst or a sucker now and then.

I only wish more food manufacturers would remove the bright food dyes from their foods. There’s no nutritional value to these dyes and there are natural dyes that can be used instead. Don’t believe me? Look at McDonald’s new Cherry Berry Chiller. That drink is about as bright pink-red as it could possibly be without glowing. I thought for sure it was one giant cocktail of dyes and artificial flavors, but it isn’t. It gets all of its color from fruit and vegetable sources, and the flavoring is all natural fruit juice and puree.

Who expected that?  If McDonald’s can do it, there’s no reason other companies can’t do it, too.

I hear more and more stories of parents who are discovering their kids are sensitive to food dyes. I know we’re not alone in experiencing some kind of adverse reaction to dyes. Research has linked it to hyperactivity. Some kids get rashes and eczema from red food dye. Others have stomach discomfort. Others – like Cordy – have various behavioral changes. And these dyes are in everything the kids come in contact with, from candy to mac and cheese, to chewable pain relievers and even toothpaste.

Europe has already figured this out, and most foods there are artificial-dye-free or contain warnings about having artificial coloring int them. What’s taking the United States so long to catch up with a public health issues that other first world countries have already known and addressed?

For now, we continue reading every label and try to educate those who care for our daughter about the importance of keeping her dye-free. It’s not that we’re crunchy green parents against all processed foods (because our grocery cart would prove we’re not) – it really is a matter of our daughter’s health.

Photo credit: Photos by *Micky 

Filed Under: Autism, big issues, Cordy, healthy living, rant ·


Jun 26, 2012

Hate Wrapped In Claims of "Progress"

By ·

For the past few years our subdivision has been locked in a vicious battle with the developer of a subdivision directly behind us. The neighborhood that was originally started was single-family homes, wedged in a narrow strip of land between two other neighborhoods, and about three streets worth of homes were built before the housing market crash.

After the crash, the developer quickly sought to rezone the remaining land (the land that specifically borders my neighborhood) into large apartment buildings. To cut the backstory short: all surrounding subdivisions were against it and fought the rezoning, but elected city officials didn’t care and voted it through with no issue because money talks and the developer offered a lot of talking.

So we sat and waited for the ugly big-box buildings to be erected. Our only concession is that we did get the developer to agree to build screening – in the form of a 6 ft hill with a 6 ft fence on top of it – before starting any construction, to help shield surrounding communities from the noise and dirt and mess. It was written into the rezoning.

Fast forward to last week.

They have over half of the buildings going now, with no fencing or hill. Dust clouds blow through our neighborhood regularly. And it’s loud. OMG, it’s loud, from sun up to sun down, seven days a week. At the urging of other community members, I’ve been sending weekly emails to the city council, upset that the agreed on fence wasn’t in place first like the zoning agreement stated. The city, unwilling to get involved or enforce anything at all, punted each email to the developer, who punted back a useless response from their lawyer.

Then last week, the general manager of the company, likely tired of my constant emails to the city offices,  sent me an email directly asking to meet with me privately to discuss the issue. This surprised me, because A: it didn’t come from his lawyer for once, and B: he confirmed he wanted to meet with just me and not others in the community who I had been speaking on behalf of and who are just as upset (or more so) than me. I almost hoped that he might try to bribe us for our silence (since throwing money at problems seems to be their style) but honestly just wanted them to do as they had promised.

He arrived with the site’s project manager on Wednesday and I ushered them out to our backyard patio, a spot we haven’t been able to use all summer due to the constant noise and dust behind us.

As expected, he began by explaining the delay was due to a change in the water lines and that they would have the screening installed by early July – which of course would mean nearly every building would be at least in the framing stage by then. I responded that this was unacceptable, since the “new” plan had been approved many weeks ago and they should have been focused on getting it done to comply with the zoning instead of continuing with putting up buildings.

I then said the best course of action at this point was to stop all construction until the water lines could be installed. (If that really was the issue – considering I live and work here all day and haven’t seen ANY water lines installed along the edge of the property yet.)

And this is where the conversation turned, well…appalling.

The general manager of this large home and apartment real estate development company responded that it would be impossible to stop on the buildings because if they took a break their “team” would move on to other states to work and they would have trouble getting them back. He gave a slimy, knowing grin while he explained that “Hispanics” aren’t as easy to find for work anymore, since so many have gone “home” due to our country’s sluggish economy. The Hispanic workers who have remained have their pick of work right now. I felt like he expected me to feel bad for his hard luck in finding cheap labor.

Put off by his explanation, I responded by saying that I knew of many people in our area looking for work, including skilled construction workers who would love a steady job. He waved my comments away, saying, “Yeah, well, that’s the problem. Too many Caucasians [yes, he said Caucasians] wanting jobs now, and we just can’t work with that.”

Wait, what? No really, WHAT?

As my eyes were still fixed on him, my brain had gone into overload, trying to process the things he was saying to me. Was he telling me he only wanted migrant Hispanic workers for his construction, implying they were cheaper (illegal maybe?) than others who might want a job in this area, or could somehow be worked in a way that others could not?

I sat in stunned silence, unable to think up even a small collection of words to express what I felt in that moment. The topic quickly shifted away again, this time to telling me how lucky we were to have these apartment buildings towering over our backyard, because it’s so much better for home values than an empty plot of land. Progress! he claimed. (I strongly disagreed with him on this, and our real estate agent would happily back me up.)

 Oh yeah, those huge buildings 30 feet from my backyard will REALLY improve my property values when compared to all of those boring old trees and deer that used to be there!

Then the topic of the disturbance of the natural wildlife came up. It seems cutting down the trees revealed a few coyotes in our area. I’ve seen them several times now, and they steer clear of people, so I don’t mind them. The project manager asked me if I thought animal control would come get rid of them. I said I didn’t know.

Then the project manager chuckled and said, “We’ll just tell the Hispanics that if they can catch ’em, they can have ’em for dinner. That’ll take care of the problem.”

Ahem…WTF?!?! Again, I was rewinding that in my head, trying to double check if I heard him correctly. Yep, that’s what he said. Every single word.

I’m not sure why they were saying these things in front of me. Maybe because I’m white they figured I’d feel the same way? Well, bad news for them: I don’t. These two men in high positions spoke in such a way to make me certain that they see people of Hispanic origin as nothing more than cheap labor to be exploited. Being struck over my head with…racism, I think?…in my own backyard was an absolute shock and left me feeling sick to my stomach and angry.

And sadly…silent. I was stunned into silence, unable to speak up to the men on either side of me and tell them that what they were saying was wrong on so many levels, that I didn’t appreciate their characterization of Hispanics, and that they should get out of my yard because I won’t support their hate. I’m still angry with myself for allowing them to shock me, but who says things like that? And openly?

These are your “job creators” everyone! They don’t want to hire your out-of-work neighbor, they think little of the people who do work for them, and they have no plans for helping to boost the economy except for their own personal bank accounts. They’d rather hire a migrant worker that they can treat poorly, work from sun up to sun down, and pay little for rather than provide a good job for local workers who are just as skilled and demand nothing but the chance at a fair wage to support their families and decent working conditions.

More money for them, at the expense of everyone else in the community, all with the blessing of the City of Columbus. Progress! It’s disgusting.

The meeting ended almost right where it began, with no plans to do anything to honor the rezoning agreement, only now I see the head of the company and his project manager for the horrible human beings they are. Laughing that whites are too expensive while lamenting how hard it is to find cheap Hispanic labor now proves to me that everything I have done to fight against this company is justified, and probably hasn’t been enough.

Beyond playing by their own rules and ignoring the comfort and safety of surrounding communities, this real estate development company also has no concern for using their position as a local employer to help promote good, honest jobs for the workers of this city, and instead would rather laugh at the idea of their migrant Hispanic workers eating coyotes for dinner.

Everyone – regardless of color or ethnicity or gender or anything – deserves a chance at a fair wage and the right to be treated with respect by their employer. Looking out my back window, as I gaze on those apartment buildings casting shadows over my yard each morning, I will always be reminded of the words of hate spoken at my patio table.

Edited to add: In case you’re wondering, I won’t post the company name here. From my dealings with them I’d guess they’d much rather spend money on their lawyer than a decent wage for a local worker. But I will certainly speak the truth to everyone I know in Columbus, privately urging them to avoid any dealings with this company.


And if they are reading and considering a lawsuit despite no information linking this post to the company, allow me to pull out my handy-dandy blogger full-disclosure: all opinions expressed in this post are my opinions and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of others (unless they choose to share my opinion in the comments below) aside from the passages in quotation marks, which are direct quotes and I might even have a somewhat muffled audio recording from my iPhone in my pocket to prove it.

Filed Under: big issues, politics, rant · Tagged:


Mar 29, 2012

The Real Nutrition Problem For Our Kids

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Occasionally when the kids are very helpful, we treat them to a meal out. The other day it was Steak N Shake, a favorite for both Cordy and Mira thanks to the paper hats and 50’s cardboard cars they can build. A favorite for me, too, for their amazing Frisco burger.

I know eating out is often not a healthy option – it’s an occasional treat. But even when they order macaroni and cheese or a grilled cheese sandwich, they often choose a side dish of a fruit or veggie. Cordy is obsessed with salads, so she’ll always choose a salad for her side. And Mira often asks for applesauce.

But this time, the restaurant was very busy and they brought Mira’s applesauce out still sealed in it’s cup. I happened to look at the label before she ate it and couldn’t help but stare at what I saw.

Apples, followed by super-sweet high fructose corn syrup and then even more sugar in the form of corn syrup. What the hell? Has this country forgotten that apples are naturally sweet? They don’t need to be laced with added sweeteners to convince kids to eat them.

If you want to fix the problem with nutrition for our kids, start by returning to real food. Meat that you can recognize as meat – without meat byproducts as filler. Fruit without added sugar. Foods without artificial dyes added to brighten them up. Real whole grains. Real cheese without added fillers. Ketchup made from tomatoes, spices and vinegar with almost nothing else. Fruit snacks that are actually made from fruit and not “fruit-flavored” snacks.

I’m a child of the 80’s. (Well, born in the 70’s but most of what I remember was from the 80’s.) I grew up with some of the most artificial food out there. Popsicles that were nothing more than sugar water and a whole lot of artificial coloring. Doritos with bright orange cheese powder that stained everything. Snack cakes filled with enough saturated fat for an adult’s daily intake. Sugar-filled drinks that matched the bright neon clothing we wore.

Sure, I survived it all, but I can guarantee you it didn’t make me any healthier. If anything, it was a big contributor to my later obesity. I also can’t be sure my diet of artificially created food didn’t shave years off the end of my life, or plant the seeds for later cancers. I guess we’ll have to wait and see the outcome.

We, as a society, know better now. Nutritional science has shown that natural is almost always better than man-made and we’re thankfully seeing the pendulum swing towards a return to real foods.

However, the one area that is lagging behind is food geared towards our youngest and most vulnerable population, especially in the markets of restaurant foods and school lunches. Food marketed towards and produced for kids still contains higher amounts of added sugar (especially in the form of high fructose corn syrup), added fat, processed and artificial ingredients, and gallons of artificial food dyes.

Back to my original question: why does applesauce need added sugar? The answer is it doesn’t, and food manufacturers should be ashamed of themselves for continuing to pump additional calories and ingredients into foods that don’t need it. It’s no wonder some kids would refuse to eat an apple – when your taste buds have been taught to seek out unnaturally sweeter, brighter colored foods, a naturally sweet apple probably doesn’t have as much appeal.

We’re letting our kids down. They deserve better than this. And not just the kids who have parents that can afford the “better” stuff – this needs to change from the top brands all the way down to the bulk products sold to schools and institutions. Walking down the aisles of your grocery store, you shouldn’t have to look hard for the “natural, no added sugar” applesauce – that should be the norm.

Change is already happening. Schools are being allowed to opt out of pink slime for their government lunch programs and many parents, now being made aware of the issue, are putting pressure on their local districts to no longer use this processed meat filler. McDonald’s recently changed their Happy Meals to reduce the portion of fries and automatically include apple slices. (And yes, fast food nutrition still has a long way to go, but that’s a great stride forward.)

Companies aren’t going to alter the way they do things without a demand for change, though, and that’s where we come in. It’s our responsibility not to settle for what is being served to our kids. We need to send the message to food manufacturers that we expect better and if they can’t deliver we will take our money to a competitor who will put the health of our children above cheap materials. We need to keep pressuring the government to demand the highest standards for school lunches, which for many poor children are the only chance they have at a complete meal each day.

Our children are a barometer of the health of the nation. What are we seeing? An increase in allergies, obesity, asthma, ADHD, autism, behavioral issues, etc. Of course it’s not all because of food, but I’d guarantee that if kids were raised on a healthier, more natural diet that the severity and incidence of these issues would be far less. My best example of this is Cordy – when kept away from artificial food coloring, she has fewer outbursts and meltdowns and is more “present” in her daily tasks. Add the dyes back in, and it’s like I have a different child.

Look, I’m not trying to take away ice cream, cookies and candy. My own kids would probably stage a revolt against me if I did. I’m just asking that we consider the quality of the ingredients in our food – even the treats – and demand that our food go back to the basics. Ice cream should be milk, cream, eggs, sugar and natural flavoring. Bread should be made with whole grains and not processed, bleached flour.

I don’t want to completely ban artificial ingredients and added sweeteners, but in an ideal world they would be harder to find on menus and grocery shelves than foods without them. There is a place for them, but that place isn’t in nearly every food product we push towards kids.

Read the ingredient labels on your foods. If there’s something on the label that you don’t believe should be in that food, or even if you aren’t sure why it’s there, take five minutes to contact the company and tell them how you feel. Ask them to take high fructose corn syrup out of their applesauce. Ask Kraft to make their mac and cheese without FD&C Yellow #5 and Yellow #6 when the same product they make in Britain is just as brightly colored with paprika and beta carotene.

As for Mira’s applesauce at Steak N Shake? I explained to her what was in it and offered to let her have a container of her natural applesauce back at home instead. She happily chose to wait until we got home for the natural applesauce.

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Filed Under: big issues, daily life, healthy living, pop culture, rant ·