Dignity and Humility

Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about power, privilege, and access. I feel myself unlearning, relearning, rethinking, reevaluating, and continuing to grapple with these themes. I think that part of what brought me to social work is a deep and visceral response to inequality. When I think about events that occur or populations that are faced with adversity, I always feel a burning/stinging feeling in my stomach. I get angry. It is difficult for me not to dwell on why. Why do some people have so much while others have so little? Why are people so greedy? Why is there so much injustice? Eventually, I get to a point where I just can’t wrap my head around it. So I try to read about it or study it or engage in conversation about it as though inequality is something you just stumble upon; something that is waiting to be understood. And then along came Hurricane Sandy… 

            I have been struggling with trying to maintain a sense of normalcy since the storm occurred. When I went to help in the Rockaways, an area that is a very important part of my “New York life,” I was not prepared for what I would see. Unlike the fedora-wearing hipsters that just come for the beach and the beer (though I too partake in the summer fun), I have discovered a connection with the Rockaways. There’s something about the community that intrigues me and if you take the time to look, it’s a pretty complicated place with pockets of deep poverty and working class families. There are a lot of divisions and invisible boundaries. It reminds me a little bit of the South. I have seen harsh or substandard living conditions, but what I saw in the Rockaways that weekend after the storm was somehow worse. I have never seen such destruction and devastation up close and I was struck by the stark contrasts between those who had access to help and those who did not.

After about 3 hours of volunteer work I suddenly felt overwhelmed – panicked almost – and I had to stop. I was running on adrenaline, fueled by the chaos of the scene and the urgency in people’s eyes, voices, body language. Once I stopped, it hit me. It was right there. I was wearing my privilege and it was in plain view for others to see. Everything came to a screeching halt. I had to leave. So we drove down further into the Rockaways, which only heightened my anxiety. I felt like a voyeur, like I had overstepped my boundaries. Enter the white relief worker – the help is on the way, I’m going to help you “fix” your life – white worker. And the reality is that what needs to be fixed is so much more than houses, cars, or electricity. What needs to be fixed is the level of poverty and the divisions between the haves and have-nots. It’s something that I’ve known about this community for a long time, but for some reason this realization remained below the surface. All it took was a storm to rob people of what was already lost or taken.  I was reminded of dignity and humility.

            I have never been more uncomfortable with my own privilege. I felt a deep sense of disgust. There were so many white people everywhere I looked and I found myself wondering what if this community doesn’t want us here? What if they don’t want our help? You’ve never noticed these people before so why pretend that you can come in and save them? What happens when the lights come back on and then the volunteers go back home? These questions are difficult and I do not have answers, nor do I like having to ask these questions. I want to continue to help in the Rockaways, but I need to find a way to make a meaningful contribution to the community without feeling as though I’m imposing on people or inserting my whiteness where it doesn’t belong. There is a very fine line between helping, aiding, and fixing and I want to be sure about where I fit in the equation. Instead of reading about inequality or intellectualizing it, I might be able to actively participate in the process of undoing it or at least I can try.    

10 things I've learned in 2 weeks as an MSW student

1. Never underestimate the power of people's stories, especially when we ALL have a story to tell.

2. Assume nothing when it comes 'knowing' a person, for a person consists of many, many elements.

3. When a fire alarm goes off in a senior center, roughly 60% of the people will NOT hear it no matter how deafening the sound.  : )

4. When you start a first anything (client meeting/intake/assessment, group, paper), know that you are not alone in your anxieties. A sense of humor is everything.

5. The word clinical is a VERY big word and for those of you (like me) that are passionate about social justice, rest assured that it is alive and well in the world of social work or at least in social work education.

6. Don't be afraid to sacrifice a bit of your pride and ego when it comes to asking questions or taking risks, especially when another person's life is involved.

7. Communities are a blessing, whether it's a school environment, peers, colleagues, etc. Embrace and nurture it.

8. I have been concerned about the ability to express the creative sides of myself in social work and can say that I have already put my creativity to the test in ways I never would have imagined.

9. When there are elderly people dancing for hours on end to Michael Jackson, Frank Sinatra, and Tony Bennett, believe me when I say that I WANT TO THROW CLIENT/PRACTITIONER BOUNDARIES TO THE WAY SIDE AND HIT THAT DANCE FLOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

10. When I look back at all I've accomplished in two weeks, I want to smile and cry at all the beauty I've encountered and I know that this will be a few of the richest years of my time on this earth thus far. 

Recovery and Reflection

The word recovery is ever-present these days. One might recall the economic recovery or the families and individuals who must endure a daily recovery as they navigate the loss of loved ones in Aurora, CO and Milwaukee, WI. But, here I am, engaged in a different recovery of sorts...

Last Thursday, marked my final day with MAPP International Productions, where I have worked for just shy of three years. Monday, was my last night of teaching with Literacy Partners, where for the past 6 months I have taught a basic literacy class composed of adult learners. In a world that is constantly bombarding us with information and work to be done, I now find myself in a time of pause. I am not a person who "stops" or slows down easily. I thrive off of activity and challenges that need to be met. And yet, I have never felt so strongly about my decision to take a break and to find some inner quiet before school starts. As I prepare for a major life transition, I am faced with the need to gather my strengths and resources in a restful and reflective manner.

Slowing down and/or coming to a stop can be a real rattle to the system. Our society is one that does not appreciate taking the time to reflect or to honor ourselves, our achievements, or our work. I don't mean to be in praise of narcissism, but a healthy understanding or acknowledgement of what it means to be present with one's self can be remarkably powerful. It can also arouse fear and insecurity and I believe that these aspects of slowing down are tangible and useful to us if we are able to listen.

At first, as various aspects of my "working self" came to a close, I felt empty and depleted. This emptiness was quickly replaced with exhaustion. And now, I feel a sense of liberation, slowly sneaking to the surface. I can be fully present with myself and only I can decide how I will spend my days over the next three weeks.

I realize that my "time off" may seem like a real luxury, but I would argue that it was a clear and deliberate choice. Financially, I cannot afford to take this month off before beginning school, but for me, it was a risk I was willing to take. My priority is to rest, rejuvenate, and reflect before the anxieties and pressures of school are in full throttle.

I plan to cook (last night I made a mixed-green salad w/ roasted beets, avocado, candied walnuts, goat cheese, and a yogurt-citrus dressing), dance, run, write, read, meditate, practice yoga, see as many friends as possible, swim in the ocean, and to enjoy the heaviness of the summer air before the light begins to change and the soft whispers of autumn begin to unfurl. Most importantly, I will try to remember to be thankful for the present. Who knows, maybe I won't have a plan at all...

And I am reminded of this:

Resistance and Indifference

As the reality that the beginning of school is fast-approaching, I would like to take a moment to address something that has been bothering me ever since I began the process of applying to school. One would think that since I have had a career as a professional dancer that I would have grown accustomed to peoples' indifference regarding how I choose to make a living. I have spent the last 7 years and really my whole young adult/adult life defending my decision to dance and pursue a career as a dancer. Let me tell you, it has been exhausting. There are some that find it exciting and tend to over-glorify the situation when I say I am a dancer. Then there are those that think I'm a Rockette or that I perform on Broadway, or my personal favorite: a stripper. Of course, there are many people that understand what it means to maintain a career as a modern dancer - especially in a city like New York - who respect my decision and even (gasp) think it's a worthwhile or meaningful career. Now that I'm transitioning into a career as a social worker, you can only imagine the responses I've been getting. Most people look at me as though I have eight heads and I'm speaking a foreign language that they don't understand. Social work? Why would anyone want to be a social worker? My daughter-in-law worked as a social worker and she hated it! So-and-so worked as a social worker and it's really exhausting work. Oh, that's so difficult. Oh, social work, that's nice. So, after spending most of my life defending how I make a living, here I am entering a new realm that makes being a professional dancer seem a bit more par for the course.

Lately, when people have been asking me what do you do? I find myself wanting to run in the other direction. How I wish that I could provide a simple answer that people would accept and that I didn't have to feel their judgement lingering in the air between us. I'm beginning to think of it as my Mary Poppins moment: snap your fingers and things magically appear before your eyes, practically perfect in every way. Maybe I should just start making up answers or maybe I won't respond at all and instead I'll counter their question with a question of my own. What if we were to ask each other instead: what do you enjoy?  OR what makes you YOU? Why is it that when we meet people, the first question asked is always so, what do you do? As if we are defined by our careers. But, I would argue that as people, we are so much more than that. I realize that many people take great pride in their careers and invest a lifetime of energy in developing their career, but if at the end of the day, our existence is based upon what we do at work, then where does that leave us as people? I am frightened by this mentality. Whatever happened to maintaining a separation between our work and our personal lives? I humbly acknowledge that this is a complicated discussion and by no means, do I pretend to be a voice of authority.

At the very least, if you ask the question what do you do? be prepared for the answer and for once, don't assume anything more or less than the answer you are given. After all, we are all just people trying to do what we can to survive and for some this thing called living is easier than for others. In the meantime, I am proud of all that I have done in my life to this point and I'm thankful that I possess the courage to venture out into the unknown in pursuit of something new. Maybe my response next time will be: I intend to love living as much as I can and how I choose to do that is not up for your evaluation.

Possibility and Foresight

HALLELUJAH!!

Two years ago, President Obama set forth legislation that would enable millions of Americans to have access to insurance; making it a right and not a burden. Yesterday, by the grace of some miraculous higher power (or by the steady hand of Justice Roberts), we are closer to closing the looming gap of inequality. The decision of the Supreme Court to largely uphold the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (CAN WE PLEASE STOP CALLING IT OBAMACARE?!), has left me with a newfound feeling of excitement, rejuvenation, and the impression of possibility. Dare I say that for the first time in my life, I actually felt an emotional sensation of patriotism? I had to restrain myself at work while internally, my body was having a fanatic dance party! There are many things that I am passionate about in this world, but I think that Healthcare policy and reform are surely at the top of that list. The only time I won a "political" debate with Dana's grandfather, Aldor, was over the topic of healthcare policy (wining a political debate with Aldor was a relentlessly implausible task). While I know that we are far from the answers and there are endless amounts of work to be done, at least we are moving in the right direction and are finally allowing this legislation to take precedence, regardless of its imperfections.

As someone who did not possess health insurance from 2005-2010, I feel that I can empathize at least on some level with those that feel that they are a victim of the system or feel left behind. I sought care at various urgent cares and clinics for low-income individuals and witnessed first hand the desperation of single mothers and fathers trying care for their sick children, as they wondered how they would pay the bill. You may be asking your self: "but you are young and healthy, why would you even need insurance?" My response? What about the time that I had a severe ear infection and by the time I made it to the doctor I was told that I could have ruptured my ear drum? Or the time that I fell when getting out of the shower and my leg was so discolored and swollen I looked as though someone had beaten me with a baseball bat? I could keep going with my many stories, but the point is that I know what it means to be without insurance and frankly, can relate to peoples' distrust in medical establishments and/or treatment. But this is of the past and I am now fortunate to be covered under Dana's insurance through a domestic partner clause...

In moving forward, the only way for this legislation to TRULY work, is to educate, educate, educate. The only way for people to fully understand the benefits and resources available to them is to teach them and to help spread the word. In the meantime, I would ask that - regardless of your stance or position on this issue - we try to collectively move forward and recogonize the effects that the Patient Protection and Affordable Care act will have on millions of citizens. If you don't understand the policy, read about it or share it with someone else without letting your judgement and ignorance stand in the way of knowledge. There are so many people in need of care and maybe, just maybe, they will now have the opportunity to seek that care.


[Stay tuned for news about a project that I'm the process of developing: Random Good NYC...]

Bullying vs. the goodness of humanity...

I believe in the goodness of people and I do not say this lightly. By this, I mean that I believe in the preservation of opportunity, peace of mind, and the potential for the common good to be a weapon against the enemies; corruption, oppression, and human suffering. And yet, it is amazing to me how quickly this good can become ugly and remind us of the ugliness that can exist in the world. That ugliness can trigger a deep reaction in us, one that embodies pure emotion. Let me unpack that...

This past Sunday, our dog Nola, was attacked by another dog for the second time since she's been in our possession. She had surgery and was left with a nasty wound, but is recovering well. (Our heartfelt thanks to those of you who have shared your love and healing energy). On Tuesday evening, while out for our evening walk with Nola, we ran into and confronted the owner of the dog. She promised that her 'husband' would call Dana to discuss the matter. Last evening, Dana received a phone call from the man -- her ex-husband -- asking Dana to meet him in person. Dana met him and the man proceeded to threaten him and also threatened to kill our dog.

And so here we are, fraught with this adrenaline rush of anger, knowing that we are trying to do the right thing and find a resolution. There are many things that strike me about this situation, a few of them being:

- I immediately felt the need to post the event on Facebook, as though by doing so, I could announce our injustice to the world.

- Peoples' insecurities manifest in ways that are very difficult to understand. In this particular instance, the other dog owners know that we are in the right and know that they owe us money, but have relented to using hostility, threats, and bullying to 'win the battle.'

- Emotion is such a tricky thing -- it forces us into patterns of behaviour that are otherwise foreign to us and this can be scary. Several of my friends quickly commented on my FB status saying words like 'asshole' and 'crazy.' I admit, that I initially reacted in this way too. BUT, after allowing that initial range of emotion flow through me, I realized that I felt sorry for the man. I wanted to help him understand his behaviour and to figure out what made him this way.

I was watching the news this evening (PBS NewsHour -- of course), and suddenly, it gave me a heightened perspective. We occupy such a small part of the world, as individuals that collectively establishes this enormous crazy-wonderful-beautiful-heartbreaking-unpredictable planet. I would urge each and every one of us to acknowledge the emotions that flow through us and to understand them for what they are and to then release them...For there is so much more to worry about and to focus our energy on. Our work towards the betterment of ourselves and humanity is never done. So why not start where we are...

[Clearly, I could never be on twitter. I have problems with being concise.]

The start of something

I have been thinking of beginning a blog for some time now. Normally, I dislike blogs and I've never quite understood the point of having a space where one professes the inner margins of his/herself. I find it excessive. Lately, however, I have been dreaming of a space where I can offer up my words and perhaps someone will locate me there inside them. In college, I experienced a subtle shift where I became introverted and quiet. A very dear friend once told me: "whenever you feel like taking up all the space (there's infinite amounts), becoming big and filling it with your grace or whatever else you feel like, I hope you do." Over the past two years, I have felt myself grow and expand in ways I never would have thought possible and now I choose to be LOUD.

I have been dancing since I was 3 1/2 and for what feels like an eternity. Much of my existence and identity as a person has been tied to dance. I will always be a dancer and I truly believe this. I have had ambitions of returning to school for some time, but could never decide on the appropriate next step. I have considered careers in teaching, arts administration, non profit management, and art therapy, but continue to return to one: social work. It is with a profound sense of urgency that I seek to put my vision and ideals into practice in order to create a new kind of choreography; one that isn't about art or steps or movement, but people. In September, I will being work on my Masters of Social Work at New York University. How I got to this point is a very long story and I feel that I am only beginning to access the words that make-mold-shape-tell it.

This fall will encompass many things: endings, beginnings, expansion, realizations, endurance, determination, questions that may or may not have answers, and a fear of the unknown. Simply put: it is also a continuation, for we are always in the process of becoming...

I am terrified of this next step and yet I fully embrace the numerous possibilities and potential outcomes. Even if I fail, I will know that at least I have tried. I do not for a moment pretend that I could have gotten this far without the unwavering support and friendship of many individuals - thank you. And mama, thank you for all that you are, all that you have given me, and for allowing me to explore-dream-discover...always.

In the meantime, I can feel my spirit wanting to soar.