Saturday, April 03, 2010
In Search Of The Rare, Wild Consensus
Of course, Elmer is only interested in finding Bugs or Daffy. I'm the one on the prowl for one solid, common meeting ground. Surely, among all the mothers and adopted people who are making all these noises, there is some binding thread that could make us see past our disagreements in style and substance and allow us to present a solid front to the industry and address the injustices we have suffered and are suffering.
My first look at the community of mothers of adoption loss, online, was like seeing a grand chandelier, light bursting through every individual crystal. Too soon, I saw that chandelier fall and, each time an attempt is made to put it back together and hang it back up, some of the crystals are missing and the light is dimmed. It has come crashing down around my head too many times to count.
It is sad to say that maybe Ayn Rand was right. Women cannot work together well. There is even a whole new lexicon of insulting jargon to throw around and keep the mothers groups structure wobbly and ready to fall. For instance, if two of us happen to agree on most things, then we are not having a meeting of the minds. No, we are "walking in lock step" and ready to jump on anyone who disagrees. Of course, I have yet to find too many that can disagree agreeably. Anyway, my arthritis is too bad to accomplish a goose-step.
Then there is the one about the mothers, passionate about finding justice who are not warriors in a worthy
cause. Uh-uh. These women (I'm one of them, I guess) are "bitter, angry, negative and living in the past." Furthermore, there are different kinds of activists...those that might frighten newly reunited moms with a startling dose of the truth and those who are apple-cheeked, smiling and concentrate only on the positive. Even though the second example is as much into activism as the first, theirs must obviously be, what. nicer? What, in the name of heaven, is NICE about what was done to us and our children?
I am ending this week better than I was last week although this surgery still takes some time to heal. I was really very sad a couple of days ago....now I am sad, mad and a little bit glad. (What was it that Cher used to sing? She was a scamp, vamp and a bit of a tramp?) I've done conventions and meetings and organizational think-tank sessions and I am through with those. I am now pretty sure I won't be having to endure those things anymore and gritting my teeth while trying to be polite to adopters and social workers because I won't be invited. I have held true to my beliefs, though, and that is the glad part.
The sad part is that there are more crystals missing from the chandelier and more possibilities floundering in the dust of the dreadful, online cat-fight. The mad part is that...well....I hate to say it, but I don't like being ashamed of my sisters. I've never like watching the kids in one bunch talking behind the backs of the group over in the corner, then jumping them when they leave the schoolyard. Now that kind of bullying, only all grown up, is happening everywhere you look. Girls, girls!! Can we please take a refresher course in adulthood 101?
Now, I don't give a rat's arse who this offends. It can be applied to so many different groups, including ones in which I have participated, that if you recognize yourself, welcome to the freaking club. Lord knows I have shown my butt on more than one occasion. But I've learned that it can't hurt to disagree as long as you can be kind and civil. My days of the flame and blame are over. I am too old and too tired to keep debating. I just say what I know and you say what you know and then we both know, don't we? I'm just going to delete, block and keep on keeping on.
The more fractured and factious we become, the less effective we are when it comes to real reform, justice or support. The ones, like me, who are fool enough to say what we mean and mean what we say had better get over the idea that people are going to take us at face value or appreciate the fact that we don't step lightly. The more you show the ugly, the more they don't want to see.
Someone told me, this past week, that I had a good heart. Well, I also have a good mind, a righteous cause and I make my husband, family and friends laugh. So don't patronize me with faint praise (and it's my metaphor and I'll mix it if I want to) while penalizing me for being who and what I am.
I respect courage and honesty. And there is precious little of that, these days.