Non-Christian Christmas

A couple of months ago I was asked what my plans were for Christmas. When I didn't give the expected answer, I was told, "But you're not even Christian, why would it matter to you?". It was statement rather than query, coming from someone who, ironically, is not Christian either, but who can at least claim to have a religion.

Those words, whether by intention or not, prickled, stirring up familiar feelings of exclusion and hurt. They implied that first-world, modern-day Christmas celebrations are only about the birth of Christ, and as such, only those people invited to the baby shower need attend subsequent birthday parties. In other words, I don't get a say on where I want to be and who I want to spend Christmas with even though I have a tree up in my house and presents under the tree and a son who is Protestant ( but thinks he's Catholic) and the same stat holidays as everyone else.

Let me be clear, my mother is Christian and my father is not. Dad tried to teach us his religion but the words weren't in a language we could understand, and being a pragmatic and logical man, he soon stopped trying. As a compromise, because that is the best way to get along when there are profound differences in a culturally-mixed marriage, we kids were raised in a secular household, celebrating most of the Christian holidays while respecting some of the Sikh traditions, picking and choosing the good parts and leaving out the bits that made us uncomfortable.

I know enough about the story of Christmas to be able to name all the main characters involved. Indeed, back when the schools were divided by religion (Catholic and Protestant, no less) it was difficult to avoid these stories. As a kid, I made gold-painted macaroni crosses at Brownie camp, read Gideon's pocket bible on a family vacation, sang the Lord's Prayer along with Sister Janet Mead, hung on to every lyric in Jesus Christ Superstar, and even attended Sunday school (my own initiative) at the local Salvation Army Church down the street from my parents'. I celebrated every single Christmas both spiritually and commercially, bought presents for everyone with my own money, and learned about the true meaning of Christmas from Charlie Brown.

Somewhere along the way, I got tired of being asked what tribe I was from. I grew weary of being welcomed as a "non-believer" at Church services. I avoided attending the "You People Who Come Once A Year" sermons. I couldn't relate to the hypocrisy, dividing lines, or righteousness of organized religion but I still wanted to embrace the compassionate, community-oriented parts of it.

I don't wish to come across as disrespectful to those who do practice their religion faithfully. In times of difficulty I wish I had a god to pray to. It just isn't in me. Or maybe it is. Something is.

Years ago, I developed a friendship with a former patient who happened to be an eighty-six year old Dominican nun. She once said to me "You're such a good person, I can't believe you aren't Catholic!". I replied, "You don't have to be Catholic to be a good person." You also don't have to be Christian to appreciate the significance of this time of year, in all its glory and its heartbreak.

So yes, it does matter to me. Thanks for asking.

I'd like to take the opportunity to extend best wishes to my faithful readers, all nine of you.

Oh, and Merry Christmas to the rest of you, including the good, non-Catholics out there.

S <3

Things I've Learned This Week

(Reposted from a facebook note written November 14th, 2012.)

1.  That I CAN eat a combination of cauliflower and onions without exploding, as long as it is deep fried in spicy batter by dad, flattened with a spatula by mom and consumed during the festival of lights.

2.  According to the girl with the flawless skin at the cosmetics counter, toner is for EVERYONE, not just the young and beautiful. Still, I resist, having only recently started "cleansing" my face with gentle foaming washes after years of abuse with soap.

3.  I have been misspelling karaprosad. I looked it up and found a whole Wikipedia description. Apparently, refusing to eat "karah parshad" might be considered insulting to some Sikhs.  Well, I won't be offended if you politely decline. Then again, my dad made it, not me and the alternative to refusing his karah parshad might be enough food to feed an army.

4.  It is no fun eating something fattening in the company of someone who is dieting. Sharing even one bite removes all the guilt and at least half the calories.

5.  My shih tzu has a problem with things on wheels, kids smoking pot at the park entrance, and city surveyors measuring the twilight zone at the intersection adjacent to my house, where several happy couples have disappeared lately.

6.  If I want my son to be autonomous, I have to let him go and let him do, even if it means taking ten times longer to bathe, and going to school with mismatched clothes.

7.  Acknowledging that another person's pain is greater than mine absolves me of the part I don't own.

8.  The worst thing about facing a hard truth/big fat lie/excuse in life, is the uphill trudge and drama leading up to it. Once it's been said out loud, it's okay to stop for a while and let it sink in.

9.  I am not that special. It is not always about me. But I do appreciate that people indulge me once in a while.

10.  Owning a ukelele would solve all my problems and make the world a better place.

11.  I am taking a serious break from altruism.

Peace out...xoxo


Me without toner.

Call Me Stinky

This is an old post from three years ago that popped up on facebook today. I decided to archive it here.

It's anti-bullying week November 19th to November 23rd and Sean's school has organized various grade-appropriate discussions and projects. Yesterday, he watched a movie that showed examples of bullying and was quite affected by it, describing different scenarios in detail and asking me questions about them at length. He seems to be overly concerned that I might have been bullied when I was younger. Maybe he's seen pictures of me before leave-in-conditioner was invented, or presumed that because I was small like him, I was an easy target. Sure, I was called names at times, but they were mostly isolated incidents that didn't stick. In fact, I was probably my own worst enemy back then, using a combination of humour and self-deprecation to cope with my insecurities. Hey, if I say it first and make them laugh, then they're just agreeing with me, right?  Well, old habits die hard, but I honestly don't worry too much about appearances anymore except perhaps for those mid-line zit days..Which is why, when Sean told me one of his classmates called me stinky today, I laughed out loud. That is, until I saw the look on his face and heard the outrage in his voice. Apparently, calling someone's mother stinky is about as low as you can go when insulting a fellow third grader.  Not only does it suggest I have B.O., but it also insinuates that I generally suck as a person. Huh? When I was growing up, we avoided stepping on cracks out of respect for our mothers' backs. We respectfully addressed them as "Mrs. Soandso". And more often than not, we were afraid of them!  I googled "your mother is stinky" but the only thing the search engine came up with was "yo mama's so smelly jokes". Something lost in the French translation perhaps? And the insult didn't stop there, I'm afraid. Nosiree. The kid made fun of my stature and build as well. Not only am I stinky mother, but I'm short and fat as well! (This was demonstrated emphatically when my son assumed a hunched over posture and exaggerated, wide-open arm gestures.) I finally asked him who this rude kid was and how he knew me. Apparently, he had seen me at a birthday party Sean attended this past week-end. I couldn't place him, not that it matters. I mean, the kids are always a blur at these events. I did however try to remember if I showered that day and whether I'd worn three layers of fleece or four under my parka.

To make a long story short, Sean reported this boy to a teacher, the boy got a warning and now the teacher probably thinks I'm a smelly mama. I thanked him for his chivalry and tried to put the incident in perspective. People say mean things, they disappoint, they try to make us feel bad. The only power we have over them, is whether or not we choose to believe them. The rest of the discussion was on empathy for others and standing up for anyone who's being picked on or bullied, not just mom.  :)

Ten Reasons To Picket With A Positive Attitude

1) "Without unions, you wouldn't have labor laws in the first place. The right is the right to collective bargaining, not a right to a good deal. But dismantle collective bargaining rights, and you have no opposing structure to protect - even minimally - against exploitation." -- Cameron Skeene

2) Unions developed as a way for workers to join forces against the inequality of bargaining power that exists between an individual worker and an employer. When an employer is dealing with one employee, the balance of power is with the employer. When the employer is dealing with an organization that represents all employees, there is less power imbalance. In other words, there is strength in numbers.

3) The strike mandates were obtained through a democratic process. Not everyone voted in favour of a strike but an impressive percentage of members did, and these members represent a variety of different unions and job descriptions. We are not alone ; we are part of a common front. Nobody wants to strike. Quite the contrary. This strike is a last resort, the result of months of frustration over the government's refusal to negotiate a new collective agreement in good faith. It is a legal strike and essential services will be provided.

4) If you can't make the cause about you, then make it about someone else, perhaps a devoted teacher you know or admire, a child with special needs who is struggling, a vulnerable client without an advocate who is on an endless waiting list.

5) I am exhausted after 30 years working in public health. And yet my colleagues with only a few years experience are showing the same signs of wear and tear. It takes a lot more energy to do the job than when I started years ago. Clients are older, more frail, and resources are more limited than ever before. I could choose to coast until my retirement but what about the people I leave behind? Will health issues force my younger colleagues to leave the system? Or will they stay, depleted and jaded, until they drop? I am standing up for all of you, even though I am tired too. The system is broken but I refuse to give up on it. I will not be apathetic.

“The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.” ― Elie Wiesel

6) The new health reform will centralize services. As a result, there will be less representation from the community on many levels. As unionized members, we have a strong, collective voice and an established medium by which we can express it. Let's not squander this opportunity to demand better, on behalf of our most vulnerable citizens.

"Scientific data show clearly that a decentralized system is closer to the centres of decision- making and allow for health and social services to be better adapted to populations needs, especially those of the underprivileged or those living in rural or outlying communities. Contrary to industry, which seeks the production of uniform and standardized services at the best price, health systems need to be able to adjust services to the needs of the populations being served.

The disappearance of local institutions risks standardizing services throughout a regional territory, hence diminishing access to more marginal populations while increasing the inequalities of health. The creation of regional mega structures will result in an important loss of linguistic, cultural and community identity. Those institutions that have been serving their community for many years and are essential for their role in maintaining community ties and supporting community development will be lost.

Scientific evidence does not support the presumption of Bill 10 that there will be a reduction in bureaucracy with the centralization of decision-making. National and international experience has shown time and time again that the proposed reform will not have the desired effects and, in fact, will make healthcare delivery more complex. We should learn from these experiences instead of increasing the centralization of decision-making in our healthcare system." -- François Béland

7) Do a little research about the history of unions and you will see that despite the bad rap they get today, a lot of good has come out of them and non-unionized workers have reaped the benefits too. Here are a few examples: child labour laws, minimum wage, workplace safely laws, pregnancy/parental leaves, sexual harassment laws, social security, public education for children, etc.

8) A little fresh air, some exercise, and solidarity is good for team building.

9) Our union has worked very hard to represent us under difficult circumstances. Whether you opted to strike or not, please show them your support.

10) "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." -- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

These are things that matter, peeps. Take a deep breath and picket with passion this Thursday.

Infertility

In my dream

a small child plays peek-a-boo in a crib

under the broad leaves of a banana tree

swaying delight

she reaches for the handsome young man

who is laughing - white teeth under a flower

I am there too

suspended in this photograph of my grief

alone without memory of her

suffocating like breath pressed to heart.

(April 2003)

Death of a Goldfish

I am not claustrophobic yet cannot imagine swimming in a fishbowl while big moon faces peer in, gigantic shapes that block the sun with their useless gaping mouths sucking oxygen from the room, stubby fingers tapping ripples through the glass.

I wanted to make life better (for a while) and save your tiny world with clean water and a clear view of the moon and the sun, but I tried too hard and instead, turned the fishbowl inside out, causing your death with my stupid pet store hose and my giant, clumsy hands.

Maintenance Day

I tell my clients
On bad days
Don't worry it's
A maintenance day,
Tread water
And try to stay afloat
Or ride the wave
You cannot fight,
Do just enough
To get through
And no more.
But --
What do I tell myself
On bad days?