hollycomesalive's Open Salon Blog

Teaching my Young Sons about War

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 13:12:20 -0500

Is there any justification for War?

I was a child during the Gulf War. I grew up in a town that was strikingly pro-military, not just because it was the "south", but also because of the large military base in the area. As a child, I was taught to pray for our military and the efforts of our troops in the Middle East. It was a Just War. It was a Good War. Even then, however, the black and white, good vs. evil scheme did not quite make sense to me. I remember asking my mother, "How does God decide which side is good and which side is bad?" She had no satisfactory answer. I assumed that America was good because Americans were Christians, and therefore God always wanted America to win. But the issue still nagged at me. If God wanted America to win, and America winning meant other people dying, did God then want other people to die?

I am just now coming to the point of having to teach my own children about violence and war. I absolutely refuse to have violent toys in my home. There will be no war toys, no toy guns or the like. If anyone buys them as gifts, they will be tossed. At present, this includes seemingly innocent toys such as water guns. My husband is irritated by my objections to these toys. I just do not see them as contributing to the healthy development of a child.

Imagine my shock when my toddler son began using random, non-violent objects as "shooters". I have no idea where he picked it up. I can only assume it was at preschool. It doesn't matter what the object is, the boy can turn anything into a shooter- his finger, a train, pretend shooters off of trucks, a banana or cheese stick. My older son, my gentle giant, screams "TRISTAN! GOD DOESN'T WANT US TO SHOOTER ANYONE!" This inevitably leads to a discussion about how it's not nice to shoot people because it hurts them, and No, God does not want us to "shooter" each other. My husband calls me naive. "All boys pretend to shoot each other. It's a part of being a boy." Perhaps this is true. However, for my part, I refuse to accept this.

Would God want us to "shooter" each other? I find it difficult to believe that He would. Jesus Himself stated: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God" (Matthew 5:9). I am not completely convinced that there is ever a justifiable cause for warfare. However, there are a few cases that bring me pause. WW II and the Civil War are two prime examples. In WWII, no one can reasonably argue that many lives were not saved as a result of the end to Nazism. Was this not just? One product of the Civil War was the abolition of slavery. Was this not just? Would these ends have been accomplished without a war?

This is not an argument against conflict. I believe conflict to be a necessary part of growth, both individually, nationally and globally. Does conflict resolution have to be, or turn, violent? The answer should be no. How is it that we can develop computers that can fit into the palms of our hands, satellites that can orbit the earth, open heart surgery and planes that fly through the air, but we have not yet embraced a method of conflict resolution that takes warfare completely off the table? Why is war still an option? How can we call ourselves "civilized" if we send our sons off to kill others and to die?

So, what to tell the children? Shielding them from violent toys and reprimanding violent play can only go so far. At the ages of 4 and 2, a time will come when they are exposed to violence, which might not be altogether negative. I do believe that eventually a knowledge of the history of war and it's consequences is a necessary step in developing a distaste for violence. I want them to understand that the mothers of American soldiers do not mourn any more for their sons as the mothers of Iraqi's do. I want them to understand that all life is sacred, not just American lives. How to instill this sentiment while living in a culture that celebrates violence and so closely aligns violence with masculinity? I hope and pray that my boys will grow up to be Conscious Objectors. I realize I only have so much control over this. Mostly, I am frustrated that I am walking into this aspect of parenting blind. I do not know how to parent in a way that encourages rational pacifism. I have never seen it done.

Trading Orgasms for Sanity

Fri, 6 Nov 2009 13:11:03 -0500

I came by my recent diagnosis of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder honestly. My mother suffered from it for years, but has been medication free for the past 10. From my own analysis, anxiety (or what I now know is OCD) is my coping mechanism of choice. Whenever there are significant changes in my life, I start going into a tailspin of irrational thoughts and panic attacks. It's extremely bizarre, to me, because I know at the time that the thoughts are irrational. And yet, I am powerless to slow them down. The only difference between me on medication and me not on medication is the ability to break the thought cycle. It's counter-productive because while the OCD does distract me from my real-life worries, it renders me incapable of dealing with them appropriately.

So, a perfect storm of anxiety began brewing two months ago. First, I passed the NCLEX and began working as an RN. I got an amazing job at a top-notch hospital, and I was very, very grateful. Additionally, I finally began working on coursework in my chosen master's concentration. Again, excellent turn of events. This is where I want to be. This is what I want to be doing. I'm making money; I'm supporting my family; I'm on my way. But with new opportunities for success come new opportunities for failure, and as someone who probably holds herself to unrealistic expectations, I began to lose control of the thought cycle.

This all would have probably resolved on it's own if I had not become pregnant. One morning, I went to the bathroom and saw blood. "Fuck." I didn't call my primary care provider, because there was no point. I was in my first trimester and these things happen. The miscarriage lasted a little less than 2 weeks. The first week I tried to forget it was happening. Treat it like a period. I'm fine, you're fine, my uterus is fine, the previously rapidly dividing cluster of cells that is now evacuating my body is fine, we're all fucking fine. Fine, fine, fine. Fine. I'm fine. The second week I was not fine. I began to lose functionality. I was depressed. I was spending hours a day going through the cycle of irrational thoughts of anxiety in my head. I needed medication and I needed it now.

I made an appointment with the PA who I knew would give me a script without asking too many questions. I've seen this PA before when I went in for my physical before starting graduate school. I went in for a Tetanus booster, and walked out with three scripts for three different medications, two of which I knew were completely superfluous. Sure enough, after a five minute discussion and assuring him I was not suicidal (define suicidal?) I got my script faxed and left. Relief was at least 21 days away, as it takes about that many days to reach a therapeutic level in my body. But it was on it's way at least, which was more than what I could have said two hours prior.

Fast forward several weeks and I'm feeling somewhat sedated. I like feeling somewhat sedated considering the alternative. The OCD is background noise and I can function. I'm doing well in school and in work, I can effectively parent and my sense of humor has returned. I'm me again, mostly. My ability to orgasm is in the shitter. As I am a woman and engaging in sex merely requires my participation, my husband is unphased. However, I am devestated (or as devestated as I can feel while being somewhat sedated). I never performed like a porn star, but I could at least climax within a reasonable amount of time if given the opportunity. Why must I choose between orgasms and sanity?

I'm aware there are things I can do to try and fix this. I can wait to see if it goes away, which it probably won't. I can switch to a drug with less sexual side effects, but we know that this medication works for me and that all anti-depressants have a risk of sexual side effects. I can take the drug at night, hoping that during the day my ability to achieve orgasm will be heightened. When it's all said and done, though, this remains: I'm a vibrant young woman experiencing sexual dysfunction. I do not want to take viagra (although my PA would probably give me a script).

Trading orgasms for sanity. I choose sanity- for my career, for my children, for my husband. But I still mourn the loss.

Michael Moore's New Film: Jesus and Socialism

Sat, 3 Oct 2009 00:10:12 -0400

Mark 10:17-25

¹⁷As He was setting out on a journey, a man ran up to Him and knelt before Him, and asked Him, "Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

¹⁸And Jesus said to him, "Why do you call Me good? No one is good except God alone. ¹⁹"You know the commandments, 'DO NOT MURDER, DO NOT COMMIT ADULTERY, DO NOT STEAL, DO NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS, Do not defraud, HONOR YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER.' ²⁰And he said to Him, "Teacher, I have kept all these things from my youth up." ²¹Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him and said to him, "One thing you lack: go and sell all you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." ²²But at these words he was saddened, and he went away grieving, for he was one who owned much property.

²³And Jesus, looking around, said to His disciples, "How hard it will be for those who are wealthy to enter the kingdom of God! ²⁴The disciples were amazed at His words. But Jesus answered again and said to them, "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! ²⁵"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."

I lured my husband into watching Michael Moore's new film with me this evening. A die-hard capitalist, and also to the left of moderate, my husband came out of the theatre moved, but not won over. "Capitalism is a tool", he said. "It's not evil. People are evil." It sort of reminded me of the saying, "Guns don't kill people. People kill people."

Michael Moore's new documentary is convincing. I believe that he makes many good points. I especially enjoyed the way in which he brought religion into the discussion. I think it belongs there. Indeed, WWJD?

I came away from the film struck by how unevolved we are, as a nation, compared to the rest of the developed world. I do not believe that the answer is a completely socialistic society. But if what Canada, Europe and Japan have is socialism, I say, Bring it.

How does a revolution begin and where does it start? We are a society that values morality. (Notice, I did not say 'religion', I said 'morality'.) In order for true change to take place, these changes have to be seen as moral. The right has done a very good job of convincing the American people that their brand of government is moral. In an effort to shy away from religion, I believe the left has also shied away from the word morality. In our effort to avoid discussing religion, we've avoided asking the conservative right the tough questions, such as "Please justify to me how [X] is moral??" How is Gitmo moral? How is waterboarding moral? How is denying children health care moral? How is the war in Afganistan moral? How is allowing the top 1% to lord over the lower class moral? How is denying children equal and adequate education moral? Taking on the issue of morality is the key to properly motivating the American people. We don't have to stretch very far to make our argument.

I'm Too Young To Become Disenchanted. Re: Politics...

Tue, 1 Sep 2009 11:09:42 -0400

Obama was "change I could believe in", but now what? I'm a young person. I've only voted in 2 presidential election cycles, actually, and I have only been a progressive for the past 4 years. There are reasons I became a progressive. Progressives are for people, not profits or corporations. Progressives want to change the world by advocating for the less fortunate. Progressives are for justice, peace and equal opportunity for all. Progressives aren't bought and sold. Progressives do what is right, even if that means making some very large entities angry.

I remember standing outside in a very, very long line in the extreme cold (extreme for NC- which means barely below freezing) waiting to hear Obama speak. The atmosphere was jubilant. This was our time. This was our turn. No matter what happened the past 8 years, we were going to march into Washington triumphant and turn this ship around. And it worked! We came out of this election with the presidency, the house and the senate- a filibuster-proof senate! Certainly, certainly this is it! My children will never know a time when health care is rationed based on wealth. Right? Right?!

What in the fuck happened? No, really, what happened? I'm in a tail-spin. Perhaps this is part of the whole learning process. We had this in the bag. The Republican party was scattered, scrambling for leadership, their base was in shambles. Shoot Almighty, Sarah Palin was vying for spokesperson of the Republican Party! That is how desperate they were. Am I even a democrat anymore? Am I really considering the idea that the Democratic party is as bought and sold as the Republican Party? Could it be that the Democrats never truly intended on passing health care reform (with a public option) in the first place? No, this cannot be! If this is true, what does this mean? Who am I? What is happening? Where are we?

And where do we/I go from here?

The HIV Patient.

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 21:04:42 -0400

HIV positive. The first HIV positive patient I am forced to touch. I walk in and grab gloves. Introductions. Tasks.

HIV positive. She bleeds and there is blood. Gloves on my hands, blood on my gloves. HIV in her blood on the gloves on my hands.

Nevertheless, a conversation. She is friendly. I am friendly. I find that we could easily be friends, in another time and place, outside of healthcare.

I could see us chatting in the sandwich shop. We would share cute stories about our children and light-heartedly complain about our partners. Caught up in conversation, I temporarily forget my other tasks.

But I am at work. This is my job. I leave smiling.

My postman. My minister. My son's best friend in preschool. The hip-looking guy who makes my caramel machiatto. HIV positive. My neighbor. My friend.