When I first saw a mention of this certain incident on social media, I didn’t believe it. I scrolled through a dozen different news outlets wishing it wasn’t true. Here’s a link for an article about it on NBC News (10.9.18): https://www.nbcnews.com/feature/nbc-out/virginia-school-allegedly-barred-trans-student-active-shooter-drill-n918216. What is it exactly? In Virginia public schools, active shooter drills occur every month or so. But, apparently, even with that repetition, some teachers just can’t get it. In Stafford County Middle School, last this September, some students were in gym class when the alarm sounded. I wrote this letter (displayed below) to the school. I cried at the story. I hope it doesn’t happen again. The teachers divided the kids, putting the girls in the girl’s locker room and the boys in the boy’s locker room. Instead of noting that the spaces were for stimulating hiding from a potential deadly assailant, they alienating a single student because of her gender identity. They made a transgender student sit outside, in the hall, while the teachers spoke. They debated, openly in front of her, which space would be safest for the other students, for her to be in. Their transphobia is painfully evident. The school board is taking the blame over the teacher, I believe. And I understand that. But, at the same time, I remember having to participate in those drills. They were scary and, after a while, an annoyance. My first “code red” was while I was in kindergarten. And since then, I have had two incidents that were real, or at the very least, possible real threats. The one that was real, there was a man with an unknown predictability with a gun nearby. I almost got locked out of the building, alone. “[1] In Virginia, there are no statewide anti-bullying laws to protect students based on sexual orientation and gender identity. [2] There are statewide anti-discrimination laws, but they do not clearly include sexual orientation or gender identity.” https://sexetc.org/action-center/sex-in-the-states/ I'm having a hard time putting it into words, but school shootings are a very prevalent possibility. We are talking about a child in middle school, around 12 years old, being humiliated, belittled, and dehumanized by her teachers. She spoke a bit to the press, just saying how scared she was. She was embarrassed because she had a panic attack in front of all her classmates. She got on National news, people. I think it's important to see these issues. Sometimes it's easy
The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don't write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid's burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big think, and you work off the resonance. After all that, I saw an article by NY Magazine, that interviewed suriviors of school shootings. They were short quotes, sometimes much bigger than the day itself. Just profound. Another reccomended reading.
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At lunch today, the conversation wasn't unusual. "I saw this frying pan at Goodwill, like this one," my dad said holding out one of ours, "But, it had a little scratch, so I didn't buy it. But, this one has scratches ten times over!"
My dad is good at Goodwill. I'm just being honest. He looks for things we might need, or more commonly, things to bring back home in Panama. So, you can't laugh too much because it's for a good cause (sometimes). It is a common occurrence for my dad to talk about this wonderful thing that "You would just love!" at the store. You know, the thing that he didn't buy. I don't remember the last time he brought home anything, especially one of that amount of excitement. Usually, I just notice more junk in the house a few days later, never having seen him bring it in. Here are just a few of the amazing things that didn't make it.
It’s that or he does buy it, and that might be worse. We have half a dozen scientific calculators, more spoons than our drawer can hold, and, again, shoes. In the end, it’s really just funny. We probably give more back to Goodwill than we buy. But, that’s my dad. That’s who he is, and it makes him so happy, so I love it too. I came across an interesting definition when I was looking at statistics and information concerning third world countries. I found the point said eloquently by the website Investopedia but continued to see it on every page with the definition. Here it is from Investopedia: ’Third World’ is a phrase frequently used to describe a developing nation. Despite its current usage, the phrase "Third World" arose during the Cold War to identify countries whose views did not align with NATO and capitalism or the Soviet Union and communism. The First World described countries whose views aligned with NATO and capitalism and the Second World referred to countries that supported communism and the Soviet Union. Read more: Third World I feel like people in “1st world countries” often have a, conscious or not, feeling of superiority over the rest of the world. My mother told me that “1st world” only refers to a substantial middle class and an economy no extreme variances from the rich to the poor. I’m not sure that, by that particular definition, that the U.S. can claim that term anymore.
In all honesty, I’m not sure how much the terminology matters. I’m not aware of any official tracking or labeling of the statuses mentioned. Nonetheless, I don’t think it would do any harm to stop throwing around these words and bias that comes with them. Different places in the world are in their own stages of development and follow different values. That is a given, because of how our world is set up. I think it is interesting to think about all this. What makes one country better than another? What are the strengths and weaknesses of your own country? What assumptions do we carry of foreigners? I’m sure plenty of us think we know lots about one country or another, but that’s not really possible, I think. Too many thinks make up communities. Too many dreams and interests and talents and colors. And that is astounding. I woke up this morning at the time I planned. Still, I stayed in bed for a bit longer. Later the morning, I sat down with both my parents for a lovely lunch. Then, we sat together in meeting for worship. From there, I wrote a bit.
I started riding my bike, and I thought, “Today is a beautiful day,” referring to the weather, “Gosh, today has been a beautiful day,” (not just about the weather). I was replaying the morning and remembering what the world can look like. It’s not like I haven't had good days, but today the air was crisp. It’s just starting to feel like autumn, and I’m just starting to see that the world might just be worth saving, again. To top it off, I helped with an evening event where I got to do art with kids. Somethings will always remind you of the good in the world. As long as there are kids, discovering the world, the world is worth saving. So, I have this little “GoPro” like camera that I can attach to my bike. I adore the videos I can capture. If you bike in the evenings, once in a while you might get a pretty good sunset. Anyway, I got to thinking one afternoon after biking with a friend where the conversations were fun. The ideas come spontaneously, and sometimes a little out of breath which makes them special. Now, when I bike alone, I will often still ramble on (don’t judge), especially when I’m in the middle of a writing project. I want the exercise, the wind in my hair, but my soul and my fingers are quivering with endless plans. If I can record my own voice, I can spit ideas out a hundred times faster than if I were writing them out. Talking aloud can shake some ideas loose and really work up the inspiration for yourself. Lucky me, my little camera can do just that. What if, I got on my bike with a purpose? I could make a podcast while, simultaneously, getting my daily adrenaline rush. I think, with some editing, it could be interesting. But, it would still be raw, fresh and, hopefully, interesting. Maybe that’s the just the wind whispering in my ear. |
Who Am I?Hi there! I'm Whit, my pronouns are they/them, and I write a lot.
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Painting by Whit Acrylics on masonite April 20th, 2019 Words are a Quaker saying. George Fox? |