There’s a lot of big stuff going on in the world lately. By the world, obviously, I mean the United States. I’m not proud of this; I’m just trying to be honest. I have five small children. Most days it’s a miracle if I make it out the front door to the mailbox.
I try to be a world citizen. I listen to the news, I read (online) newspapers, I read books about current events. But honestly, when I decide to take a break from trying to figure out how to pay our mortgage this month and sit down to read an article about mass genocide, or epidemics, or drought, or, most recently, hateful 21-year-old white boys gunning down a church full of black parishioners during a prayer meeting, it doesn’t have the effect of putting everything into perspective for me. I’m not suddenly overcome by gratitude, thinking, “Oh God, why am I even concerned about keeping my house when there are people in the world facing far worse disasters?”
No.
What I think is, “Oh shit. I thought I was screwed trying to figure out how to pay the electric bill and the water bill at the same time… How on earth am I going to figure out how to end genocide/global infection/climate change/institutionalized racism?” Because, you hear about these things and it kills you, right? You want to DO something. But what can you do? You feel more powerless than ever.
There are people who study these problems like it’s their job. Because It.Is.Their.Job. And still, they haven’t figured it out. Little writery me doesn’t stand a chance. Every question I pose just opens a Pandora’s box of further questions. And I’m not sure about any of the answers.
But today, there is one thing I know for sure.
Putting a pull-up in the washing machine (even accidentally) is a VERY bad idea. This afternoon I spent two hours in the bathroom, shaking little gel beads out of a GIANT load of baby clothes that I really should’ve dealt with two days ago, before it became a mountain of laundry. I spent another 45 minutes wiping down the inside of my washing machine. To add insult to injury, I did all of this upstairs, in my house that has been without air-conditioning for THREE WEEKS. I am not exaggerating when I say it was 93 degrees up there, or when I say I had five children pawing at the door like zombies from The Walking Dead.
I know these are first-world problems. I know that I’m ridiculously fortunate to live in a country with abundant clean water, let alone water that is pumped into my house and into an outrageously extravagant machine that actually washes clothes for me. Moreover, I’m lucky that I’m washing clothes (and pull-ups) in preparation for an ordinary couple days of summer and not some mass memorial service. I’m even lucky that those moaning zombies outside the bathroom door are all healthy – both mentally and physically.
But really, that didn’t make it suck any less. It didn’t make the sweat pouring into my eyes, or the tiny silicone gel beads flying into my mouth any less uncomfortable. This is the reality I live in. A reality of privilege and comfort, where things go wrong, as they do everywhere. A reality where I lack the control to keep bad things from happening, in my washing machine and in the world around me. A reality where maybe the only thing I can do to make it better is to do the thing before me as gratefully and gracefully as possible, understanding that none of us really have the all the answers. We just do the best we can with what we know, recognizing that it is pitifully little. Grateful for what, as Dorothy Allison said, “The Two or Three Things I Know for Sure.”
Virginia
I think even more than your one thing that you do know today (and there is gratitude for the tedious but fixable problems, in the face of so much overwhelm): the thing you know is how big those problems are and that everyday people must work on them too. And you are working on them by raising five smart, sweaty, zombie children who will fight those problems, who will face the world with grace and love and vigor and sweat and patience because they learn how to tackle the tedious fixable problems from you, and are learning that any problem is fixable – from washing machines, mortgages to racism and climate change, if enough people are working on it and thinking about it.
Big Daddy
Virginia, I think you nailed it…. Thanks. Jen does a herculean job of raising those kids, (grans) and I am naturally proud of her.
Someone once said, “We are all victims of victims”. Victims are generally a product of their upbringing or shear circumstance. Most of the victimness can be battled by good parenting. After a certain age we all have to decide if we are going to allow “circumstances” to dictate our personna. Rise up and demand competence of the HVAC guys. Dad.
Jen
Thanks dad! And the HVAC is totally busted… Waiting to see what they’re gonna do anout it- replace it, hopefully.
Dana
Jen,
This is a facebook post from a friend who was raised here in the South. It is long but I like it and wanted to share.
I commented on a friend’s post about the flag issue and wanted to share what I said here. I’m a direct descendent of at least two men who fought for the South, and I also think it’s good that South Carolina’s leaders are calling for the flag to come down from their Capitol since they raised it to protest civil rights and desegregation in the 1950s. I hope Mississippi redesigns their state flag as well. I grew up in Tennessee watching Dukes of Hazzard and cheered for the General Lee with the flag on top as it caught the bad guys every week. It remains one of my favorite shows. I grew up believing Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson were heroes and still admire them. I’ve also come to understand how the flag gives offense to many given the role slavery played in the war and how the flag is used by race hate groups today like the KKK.
All residents of a state should feel welcome in their state Capitol building. That’s why I think that the bust of Nathan Bedford Forrest in Tennessee’s Capitol building should be moved to a museum or monument site. I had a meeting at the Capitol this week and observed it’s prominent location. Forrest was a brilliant leader on the battlefield yet there’s the Fort Pillow massacre of Union troops of African descent by soldiers under Forrest’s command and his being the first grand wizard of the KKK. I’m concerned why Tennessee’s leaders choose to place his bust there. I think it went up during the civil rights movement. I think we can find another Tennessee leader to honor with a bust there.
Every nation has participated in military actions that later generations deem wrong as we grow as a human race or learn that our government misled us. However, I believe the citizens who fought and died because their government told them they needed to for national security don’t deserve to have their monuments torn down or defaced. I hope that’s not where this is headed. My ancestors who were poor and fought because their state asked them to don’t deserve that.