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Oct 23, 2012

Politics On The Playground

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It’s no secret that the political atmosphere is about as thick as it can get at the moment. You can’t watch TV, listen to the radio, check your mail, answer the phone, or drive anywhere without having political ads in your way.

Even schools are getting involved with “Kids Choose the President” type events. This weekend Cordy and Mira told me all about their discussions of the elections at school. Cordy told me there is a website for kids to go to and choose who they would vote for if they had a say in picking the President.

I asked her what her teacher said about the candidates. Cordy rattled off some very basic information about how and why we vote, Obama being the current president and going for his second and last term, Romney being the challenger, two political parties with different ideas for ways to do things, etc. It was very non-partisan, and sounded like good information for the kids on how the political process works.

I asked Mira if she had similar discussions in her class. She then responded, “Mommy, I was told President Obama was a bad man.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “What?? Your teacher told you that?”

“No, mommy, some of my friends said it. Their parents said he was a bad man who spent too much money and wants to hurt us. They said we have to vote for Romney, but I don’t think we want to do that, do we?” She then went on to say some friends have been saying these things for weeks now, with one child even making it clear that kids who like Obama aren’t good kids.

I’m really, really uncomfortable with this. Five year olds. Spewing political hate and propaganda to their five year old friends on the playground to take home and share with their parents. What parent thinks this is OK for their children to say?

My children have asked who we’re voting for, and we’ve told them we’re voting for Obama. They’ve asked several questions about why we prefer him, and we’ve always kept it high-level and age appropriate. We explain that each candidate has different ideas for how to be president, and we agree more with Obama’s ideas, so he’s our choice.

We’ve also told them it’s OK for others to have different ideas, and they’re not bad people because they think a different plan is better. Voting is how we all say which person and ideas we like the best, and the person who has the most votes gets to try out their ideas.

We’ve talked issues a little, too, but they’re too young to understand many of the issues at stake, so we keep it general and non-scary. We’ve also told them it isn’t polite to tell other kids they’re wrong about which candidate they prefer, even if someone tells my kids they’re wrong.

NEVER would I tell my child that a presidential candidate wants to hurt them or is a bad person. Who instills that kind of fear and hate into their children? It’s not OK to make children hate their president or fear the government of the country where they live.

What happens if Obama wins this election? Do these children spend the next four years having nightmares that their president will snatch them from their beds and hurt them? Do their five year old hearts harden towards the president and any who agree with him, turning them eventually into angry, prejudiced adults who can’t see any further than the rage and fear programmed into them?

I have no concerns with our school teaching proper government education to our kids (I respect those who have different views, but that’s not the topic at hand), but I do worry about what inappropriate opinions kids are bringing to school from home. A child telling friends that kids who like Obama aren’t good kids is the same to me as a child telling friends that kids who like Christians aren’t good kids. It’s hateful and divisive and shouldn’t be said at school.

In our home, we believe in the political process and want to make the idea of voting and choosing a new president (and other political offices) interesting and thoughtful for our kids, not scary and traumatic. Sure, I have much stronger political views online and in the presence of other adults, but around my kids that subject is reigned in. At their age, they need to learn about democracy and government structure, not about the negative ads, accusations, hate and gridlock that tries to tear down that system. They’ll be exposed to all of that too soon, sadly.

(Yes, they went with me to an Obama rally in 2008. Mira was just over a year old and Cordy was four and slept through nearly the entire thing. I would not take them to a political rally at their current ages, although I happily take them with me to vote.)

My daughters aren’t hearing attack ads – there are no political ads on Nick Jr, and I turn down the radio during commercials in the car. Our discussions are upbeat and positive so they will like the political process, not fear it. And even when teaching differences of opinion, we still point out that, even if we think differently from others, we’re all a part of the same country and still have to get along.

I don’t understand why any parent would knowingly teach fear and division with the topic of politics. Teach your kids about why voting is important to you and give them a general view of why you prefer one person’s ideas over another, but leave the hate out of your message and don’t scare kids. Instead, emphasize that there are many different ways to approach the same problem, and that in the end, we’re still all one people that need to work together for the greater good.

These are our future voters and lawmakers – let’s teach them to do a better job than we’ve done.

Filed Under: big issues, other people's kids, politics ·


Sep 27, 2012

Health Insurance Hoop Jumping

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I was thrilled to find out earlier this week that a health insurance claim that had been pending for nearly a year was finally being processed.

Yes, eleven months and a week to process one claim. Crazy, right?

The claim was for a test I had done last October after my doctor was concerned with some odd symptoms I had recently experienced. She recommended an abdominal ultrasound to rule out ovarian cancer. (Spoiler: everything was normal, other than a slightly out-of-position ovary. Yay!) Trusting my doctor, of course I had the test done.

At that time we had only recently obtained health insurance. Since we were uninsured before that, we had a one year waiting period for any “pre-existing conditions” and when we signed up for insurance had to provide the names of any health provider we had visited in the last year so they could obtain our medical records to determine what pre-existing conditions we might have.

Since I had never experienced anything like this before, I wasn’t too worried. Our insurance sent a letter shortly after the test stating they needed me to sign another permission slip to obtain my records before they could process the claim. I authorized all of it again and considered it done.

Then I began getting letters from the outpatient center at the hospital where I had the test done, asking me to follow up with my insurance because the claim still hadn’t been settled. When I checked with my insurance, they told me they were waiting on my records from a grocery store clinic where I was treated for strep throat once. I again authorized them to send another request for my records, and also pointed out that these grocery store clinics couldn’t diagnose anything that would be relevant to the test I had done.

This entire scenario repeated two more times. Maybe three. I lost count.

Over the summer, I then received a bill from the hospital, telling me they had received three denials from insurance due to missing information and so would start the billing clock against me. I owed $2,097 for an ultrasound, and please pay within 30 days.

A flurry of calls to the insurance company started again, asking why this still hasn’t been processed. They told me they were still waiting on my records from my strep throat visit before they could declare that I wasn’t trying to get coverage for a pre-existing condition. I was so upset at this point. What did I have to hide? I signed away all of my rights so the insurance company could dig up any medical info on me that they wanted to – how was it my fault that the clinic wasn’t complying with their request?

I was angry and scared at this point. Angry that the processing of a claim could be held up due to a strep throat visit and angry that I even had to deal with a pre-existing conditions clause when we pay a large premium every month just to then have a $1000 deductible per person. (Well, it was $1000. It’s $2500 now.) And I was scared that the insurance company would continue to hold up the process and refuse to pay, which would leave us in the position of accepting the entire bill or possibly going into collections and hurting our credit score while we continued to wait.

The customer service reps at the insurance company were very understanding, I will admit. They agreed it was ridiculous and wanted to help however they could. Finally, last month one rep looked through the history of this claim and said, “You know what? I’m going to send this on to claims processing again, and I’ll put a note on it pointing out that the grocery clinic can only handle minor illnesses anyway. Let’s see if we can get them to forget this and get it processed.”

It took nearly a month, but then I looked at my online account and saw it had FINALLY been processed.

It’s not a perfect happy ending, of course. Insurance declared that the “allowable” part of the bill was only $964.62 and so that became the new total. Of that total, they paid $111.78 and left me with a bill for $852.84, the remainder of my deductible from that year. We’ll still have to set up payments with the hospital for that amount, but at least it isn’t as bad as $2,097.

What really drives me crazy is the new bill after the insurance processed it. Because I had insurance, the hospital is accepting $964.62 as the total bill for the procedure. But had I not been insured, I would have been responsible for more than twice that amount.

So those unable to get insurance are not only afraid of ever getting sick or hurt because they have no safety net in place to help cover those bills, but when they do need care they’re hit with a bill that is much larger than what the provider will get from someone with insurance.

I’m so glad that my tests were normal. I can’t imagine how much worse this would be had I been sick and needed treatment, all while trying to fight for coverage. And that’s WITH insurance. My experience is completely how the old system works – the Affordable Care Act (aka “Obamacare”) provisions that relate to this story have yet to go into effect, although I can’t wait until they do. Our daughters are already seeing the benefits from it, and I’m looking forward to those same benefits and protections.

I know there are good people who do good work at health insurance companies. But I still believe that a health insurance company cannot provide effective medical coverage of their members when they have profits to make each year and shareholders to please. It’s an unpopular belief to many, but I don’t believe health insurance should be a for-profit industry.

While I’d prefer universal health care, I’m willing to accept the idea of private, universally non-profit health insurance companies, where any profits beyond operating costs are rolled back into health education and research, programs providing new ways to encourage preventative care, decreased premiums and incentives for proper maintenance of health conditions. (This would be the nurse in me speaking.)

I know health care is a hot button topic during this election year, but I believe it’s far more than a talking point. Whether you’re a fan of the Affordable Care Act or not, I think we can all agree the old system is not effective and needs reform. I’m not 100% happy with the new system being rolled out, but I’m ready to give it a chance over dealing with the current one.

Filed Under: big issues, me me me, money, politics ·


Sep 20, 2012

I Am Not An Island (And Neither Are You)

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I’ve tried to avoid writing all week about the Mitt Romney secret tapes where he essentially stated that nearly half of this country are freeloader victims looking for nothing but a handout. I’ve been engrossed in reading the stories of others, how they represent the 47%, how they have had to rely on assistance at some point or another in their lives, and how it has helped them reach a better place.

I guess this is as good a time as ever for one more story.

There are no tales of being on assistance when I was growing up. We didn’t have much, but my mom worked extremely hard for every penny and we got by. There were some very slim moments, but she was always fully employed and her employer provided very good health insurance for us.

I went to college with the assistance of federal loans and grants, in addition to scholarships I had earned for an excellent academic record and an allowance each year of money that my family had saved for my college education. I needed all of it, and even then I still worked all the way through college to afford a few of the beyond basic items, like a night at the movies or dinner out with friends. Without the federal grants and loans, which covered more than half of the costs of my in-state public school education (go Miami!), I would never have been able to fully afford my college degree.

After college I worked continuously until Mira was born. (That’s nine years from when I graduated college, for reference.) At that point, Aaron had a good job and benefits, and I was making a decent part-time freelance income as a blogger, so I quit my day job to focus on Mira, and on attending nursing school.

And then the summer of 2008 hit, and Aaron was laid off.

Of course, he applied for unemployment. Each of us had worked for most of 13 years at that point, paying our taxes with each paycheck. We couldn’t feel too bad about using the unemployment insurance we had paid into for so many years.

It wasn’t a lot of money, though, and our emergency savings soon ran as dry as the job prospects. We didn’t want to apply for more help, but we had no choice. Our children needed health insurance. We needed food, but also needed money to keep our house and not fall behind on bill payments. We were sinking fast.

And so we applied for food stamps, WIC and Medicaid. There may be several stories out there about people abusing the system and getting benefits they don’t quality for. From our experience, I’d call most of them myths. Never before have we had to produce so much documentation for our situation and jump through so many hoops.

In some ways, we felt glad that the system was set up to make sure it wasn’t grossly abused. On the other hand, it was tremendously difficult to get approved. We were held up several times for missing paperwork, or not enough documentation, or because we were required to visit the office in person, with the children, and wait in a crowded waiting room, to even have a chance at being considered. How much harder would it have been if we were poorer to begin with, without a car or without all of our income documentation?

Aaron’s unemployment and my small part-time blogging income disqualified the entire family for Medicaid, but we still made little enough for only the kids to be covered. The food stamps and WIC covered a large part of our monthly grocery bill, freeing up what little money we had to pay for our mortgage. We made about $1200 a month with Aaron’s unemployment and my freelance income. Our mortgage was $1100 a month.

If it wasn’t for that help, we would have lost everything: our house, our cars, our dignity, our hope. It would have been hard to get a new job with no permanent address or transportation to make it to the interview. Instead, we found ourselves in the safety net provided by our government, dangerously close to the pit beneath us, and looking for a way to climb up and out.

No one wants to stay in that position. Before that, we had been living a semi-secure middle-class life (I’d call it lower middle-class, honestly), and we only wanted to return to that life. And it’s no surprise that for two years, our income was low enough that we paid nothing in income taxes. We were the 47% – we made too little to pay taxes, and we needed government support services to keep our family fed, healthy, and keep the house we were so proud to buy back in 2004.

Did we feel “entitled” to all of this? We didn’t want to be in the position to accept help, but we took it. And I can’t speak for Aaron, but yes, I did feel that I deserved help from my government, just as our taxes in years before were used to help others get back on their feet. I believe that a just and humane government looks out for all of its people, so that no one goes without basic necessities of food, shelter, and health care.

Of course, many of you know the next chapter of this story. The job market did improve, slowly, in 2009 and 2010, and Aaron and I both found jobs again. The first minute we could, we called the agencies and told them we no longer needed assistance. It felt great to do so. We had a hefty income tax bill last year, and we’ll have a smaller bill this year with our employment status changes. I guess that means we’re no longer in the 47% at the moment, but we’re also the exact same people who once were a part of it. Do we deserve to be treated differently because of our income now?

We – like many – didn’t want to be on assistance. It was barely enough to get by and we certainly didn’t live well during those times. The prejudices of strangers also made the emotional stress of a job loss even more difficult.

I will forever remember how I felt standing in the checkout line at Kroger, Cordy by my side and Mira (just a toddler) sitting in the cart, as I grouped the items on the belt to match up with my WIC checks. I was still carrying a little extra weight around the middle at the time, and I remember one older lady in line behind me talking to her friend – loudly enough that I could hear – saying how shameful it was that I was on assistance and had the nerve to have another child while on assistance, too.

Beyond being pissed off that she thought I was pregnant, I was so angry and embarrassed by her judgment of me, when she knew nothing about me or my family’s situation. Because my husband’s government job had been eliminated, and we needed help to cover the basics until he could find another job, we were suddenly a target for shaming, an acceptable demographic to judge and look down on.

I once held my own prejudices about people living off the system, too “lazy” to make an effort to better themselves. Our experience, as well as the experience of so many people that I met when I worked as a nurse, has changed much of my opinion.

The problem isn’t the system, the problem is being off the system. It’s hard to consider taking a job that will pay just enough to remove that safety net from under you, but will still pay so little that you end up being even closer to losing it all. It’s hard to apply for jobs and be told you’re not being considered because you have a college degree and therefore are overqualified, no matter how much you assure them you’re committed, you’ll work hard, and you need the job to support your family.

None of us are an island. We are part of a society, and one purpose of that society should be to ensure a basic standard for all people in that society and work together towards a greater good. (In fact, the definition of society is “a highly structured system of human organization for large-scale community living that normally furnishes protection, continuity, security, and a national identity for its members.”) We depend on each other, and we help each other. I don’t believe this means that some can’t have more than others, but there needs to be a system in place to provide a minimum standard of living. A line in the sand that declares that this society will work together to ensure no child goes without food, or a safe place to sleep, or lose all they have just because of a layoff or a health crisis. 

Just as in a marriage, it’s never an even 50-50 split. Sometimes you’re contributing, sometimes you’re the one needing the contributions. If you have never needed any help from anyone at all, well, I don’t believe you. Everyone needs help from someone else at some point.

If you’ve never needed government assistance, then be thankful instead of bitter that others have needed that assistance that you – and millions of others – help pay for, and pray that karma never finds a way to humble you. Because if karma finds you on that little tropical island for one that you defend so fiercely, you may find yourself eating your words when you can’t afford food.

Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

Filed Under: memories, money, politics, the J-O-B ·


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 ·


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.

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