Complexity and Humanity

I've gotten some interesting feedback on my last post. People (some I know in real life and even more that I don't) have sent me messages about my decision not to protest when Walker visited his niece's grade school in Waukesha yesterday. Mostly, the comments have been really supportive. Others, however, have suggested that I'm giving up the fight or that I'm just having a rough patch. They tell me to stay strong and get back in fighting form.

Hmm. I work very hard to stay focused on policies, issues, and processes--and not on people or personalities. This has never been as much of a challenge as it has since February 11 of this year, when Walker introduced his Budget Repair Bill and I learned who the Fitzgerald brothers are.

I have always tried to think of the humanity of those with whom I disagree. I want to understand other points of view--not so I can engage in debate but so I can better understand issues and challenges and so we can find ways to work together to do what is best for the most people. This is how I approach my political views, my personal relationships, and professional challenges. It is an essential aspect of who I am and how I interact with my world. It is a core part of me, and to act differently is to become something other than what I am.

When I talk with people with a more conservative viewpoint, I am able to be respectful of their views. Once I understand why someone thinks in a particular way, it helps me better understand how to discuss my views with that person. I need to connect with others as humans, none of whom is perfect.

I admire those who fight strong. Those who protest frequently, those who confront our legislators as they walk into the Capitol, those who expose behind-the-scenes conversations and procedures, and those who engage in public debate are vital in effecting change. I'm just not good at those things. We all need to play to our strengths, and mine are in seeking common ground, attempting to understand, and being mindful of the humanity of all (even my enemies). These are not particularly visible qualities; that does not mean they are unimportant.

Not all who are on the same side of an issue need to be doing the same things. The Wisconsin political climate is more divisive than I ever could have imagined. I am also seeing some divisiveness in how people talk to and about people who are on the same side (including but not limited to me).

I have spent a lot of time listening. I've written to my legislators. I've protested. I've asked questions. I expressed outrage at certain actions, and I sobbed when I thought of how many women with HPV will go untreated because of the funding being taken away from women's health clinics. I have never been so distracted in my life, and this experience has been burned into my heart and mind permanently.

I am angry. I am outraged. I am horrified. I am appalled. I am resolved. I am hurt. I am many things, and I feel many things. But that does not mean that I should not be able to recognize and appreciate the humanity and the views of others.

I saw a video of Walker's visit to his niece's school. I was able to set aside my feelings about his actions as I watched a little girl introduce him, saying, "This is my uncle." Her affection for him was genuine.

It reminded me that we are all complex individuals. Walker is not just Darth Walker, master Koch puppet, doer of evil, and other terms I've heard applied to him. He is also a little girl's uncle and a human being.

The moment I forget that, I have lost a part of my soul.

Why I'm Not Protesting Tomorrow (Much to My Surprise)

Ever since February 11, I've felt envious of those who could protest Walker directly. Protesting at the capitol is amazing, but every time, I was aware that he wasn't there, that I wasn't reaching the person responsible for the constant fear and anxiety I've had for over three months now. A while back, he was in Waukesha, but I couldn't participate in the protest because I had something else scheduled. I was so disappointed.

Last night, I found out that he will be in Waukesha tomorrow, at Banting Elementary School, at a time when I am completely free. My grades are done and turned in, summer school doesn't start for three weeks, so I am in the clear. I have been disheartened and wearied by the continuing lack of compassion I am seeing from my governor and so many legislators. Do they not know what they are doing to people's lives, or do they just not care? Where is the compassion? A chance to protest without having to drive to Madison is rare.

Imagine my surprise when I realized how conflicted I felt about the idea of protesting him tomorrow.

I admire the people who show up again and again throughout the state to protest Walker. He never goes anywhere without the presence of people reminding him that we are watching him and we are unhappy. He can't even go fishing without protesters in a boat along side him. (Really, that was so awesome!) I get how important that is.

I also understand how important it is for children today to be aware of what is happening in our state. Seeing protesters outside their school is something they will remember for the rest of their lives. They will take a history class in high school or college. The subject of labor rights will come up, and they will know that they were witnesses to part of that history. We should not shield them from the fact that people are unhappy with what the governor is doing. We should celebrate the fact that protesting and gathering peacefully is one of the great rights of living in this nation.

So why am I so conflicted?

When we lived in southwestern Illinois, my husband was involved in campaigning for Republican candidates for various offices. Yes, I even voted for some of them. At one campaign event, I shook hands with Jim Edgar, who I knew would be elected governor. I felt giddy. There was something about the office of governor that was so exciting to me. No matter who inhabited that office, I knew that I would always be thrilled that I got to shake the hand of a future governor.

Maybe that's part of the thing for me. No matter who the governor is and what he is doing, he is the governor. School children should get to experience the excitement of the occasion. It is a big deal. I am grateful to see the calls for protests at schools to be silent--but even a silent protest is visible. I don't like the thought of children looking through their classroom windows to see adults holding signs--a sight most children wouldn't be familiar with. I think it could be confusing and even disturbing, even while providing an opportunity to learn about our rights and history.

And what about the governor? I love that everywhere he goes, his presence is protested. It sends an important message and, I hope, it makes it more stressful for him to do his job in the way he's been doing. I want him to feel stressed as he is doing things that damage lives in real ways. However, if there is one time when the governor should feel unharried and happy, it is when he is meeting with school children.

Here was the clincher for me: I read that his niece goes to Banting. I have four nieces and three nephews. I want them to be proud of me, and if I were to visit their schools, I would want them to feel  thrilled to have me there. Despite my feelings about Walker, his niece is a child. She deserves the chance to be excited that her Uncle Scott the governor is coming to visit her school, without the distraction of people holding signs outside the school. It is for her and the other children that I cannot bring myself to protest tomorrow.

It is just my way of showing some of the compassion that has been lacking in my elected officials lately, even while I respect that others will feel very different and will be there at Banting to greet the governor.

Juggling Rhythms

I spent yesterday at the University of Wisconsin Colloquium/Engaging Students in the First Year Conference. It was odd, as it was the first time I was there without an ESFY title. In some respects, I felt a bit out of sorts, being in a familiar place with an unfamiliar role.

In the past year, as I've returned to full-time teaching, I've been reminded how much I really do love teaching and working with students. My presentation yesterday was about teaching and working with students. It was a pilot program that went well, and it was a real treat to get to talk about that. It felt like a nice capstone to my year.

In the afternoon, I found myself talking to some colleagues at UW-Marathon County who both hold split positions--part teaching and part administrative. As I listened to them talk about the projects and reports they have ahead of them in the coming weeks, I got a big smile on my face--and they knew exactly why.

One of my biggest challenges and frustrations at a split appointment was that I had to exist on two different sets of rhythms. As a teacher, there are times of the semester and year that are particularly intense and stressful (like the end of the semester, always). Fortunately, those times are usually followed by some down times that have a more relaxed pace. I can have several days in a row of really intense and draining reading and grading, and then I have some time when I can rest, reflect, and even step aside from my work for a bit. It kind of balances out.

Administrative work, however, is completely different. There are reports to be written, budgets to be wrapped up, meetings to hold (and in the UW Colleges, these are mostly teleconferences due to the geographic distribution of our 13 campuses and the central office), and work to continuously plan and implement. Full-time administrators rest and recover using very non-academic sounding leave called vacation days. Part-time administrators/part-time instructors don't exactly have these. Because of the demands of the end of the semester as an instructor, some administrative work is set aside for the days and weeks after grades are turned in.

What this all amounts to is that people in split appointments rarely have downtime. I never got to enjoy being done with the semester in a way that was truly recuperative. Instead, I would have to kick back into high administrator mode. Juggling two entirely different sets of rhythms is hard. While I certainly miss some aspects of the work I used to do and the ways I got to work with people I liked and respected, I am happy to simply be an instructor who does a little bit of advising on the side. It is much, much easier on my ability to take deep cleansing breaths.

The Good Wife

So here we are  again. My husband lost his job, and he was told it was due to overstaffing. I think it was because he was almost at the end of his 90-day probationary period and the company didn't want the expense of hiring him directly instead of through the temp agency, and since they had two women return from maternity leave, it was a choice they could make.

Still, it came out of the blue. Why is it so hard for him to find a job that helps us keep our heads above water?  Unfortunately, he didn't work there long enough to be eligible for unemployment, which ran out shortly before he started this job.

It is so hard to know how to be a good wife. I am totally falling apart inside, but my husband needs me to be encouraging and supportive right now. And naturally , this happens at my most hectic time of the semester.

We've been through this before, and I just don't know if I can do it again. I will, because I have to. But I have to wonder if I'll ever be able to feel a sense of hope again. Every time this happens, a piece of my spirit is extinguished. What if I get to a point where there's nothing left?