Another Day, Another Shooter or General Attitudes Towards Women

On Friday afternoon I was watching my Twitter feed, sitting in my Mother's family room while she watched the local news on television.  I saw the headline before it came across the TV, an active shooter at a Planned Parenthood in Colorado.  Another day, another shooting and more innocent victims sheltering in place, seriously injured or murdered.  A first responder killed in the line of duty. Now that he's been arrested we're learning that the shooter had a history of domestic violence. Apparently as he was being arrested he yelled out "no more baby parts" and ranted about politics.

Every single time this happens, and it happens a lot (see this article in the LA Times from October for a timeline of shootings since 1984), I feel more and more frustrated that instead of diminishing it seems to happen more and more often. We're not untouched here as it wasn't that long ago that the Mall in Columbia had it's own active shooter event and many of us, if we weren't there, know someone who was there that day.

Friday's attack at Planned Parenthood was directed at women which reminded me of the battle in Congress to re-authorize the Violence Against Women Act in 2013.  Did you even know there was an International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women? It was November 25th.  I missed it too. My thoughts also wandered around to basic attitudes towards women and the ever increasing violent language used towards us, especially online.  If you're not familiar with Gamergate, here's Zoe Quinn explaining what it's like to be the most hated person online, mostly because she's a woman. If you want to know how people regard women online, just read the comments after they post or make their own comments.

To complete the curve of where my thoughts took me as I thought more and more about the shooter they went to the basic way women are treated on a daily basis by friends, family and co-workers, not just the cat calls and whistles when we're walking about or being told to 'smile', but the general disrespect we all encounter.  In my own family boys are preferred to girls.  My grandfather told my mother once "You're always happy with whatever you get, but a boy is special."  When my Dad called my Grammy back in 1976 to let her know the new baby was a boy she expressed relief that he wasn't another girl. I scored an excellent Dad and he was insulted since he thought my sister and I were pretty great. My Uncle told me once that he thought all the women he worked with who got promoted had slept their way to those jobs. Years ago as my Grandfather and his wife were leaving our house he handed my sister and I each a $20 bill and then handed my brother a $100 bill.  If you want to know where someone places their priorities, look at where they spend their money.

Until we pointed it out to them and they stopped, my sister and I would be in a deep discussion with her husband and my Dad would jump in and pretty soon we would be ignored while the two men carried on a discussion.  My Dad and my brother-in-law are very much feminists, but they were acting within socially accepted norms at the time.  Men get to talk and women don't.

This happens at work as well.  I've been the initiator of a meeting where a man has walked in and asked me to make copies of his handouts.  "I'm sorry, I can't, I'm running the meeting."  They look a bit taken aback.  My fellow female co-workers and I have numerous examples of meetings where the men just talk over the women as if they're not even in the room.  The message is quite clear - be quiet women.

Where am I going with all of this?  I think it's the very basics, the foundation for how we treat women that needs to change.  Some people like to shrug off political correctness, but that's not what I'm talking about.  I'm talking about changing attitudes not just using the right words.  What is the saying? Think globally but act locally?  That's what I want.  I want people to think about how they treat their Mom, their sister, their wife, their daughter and all the women in their lives.  It's not just men that I'm talking to here either.  I see women put down other women also.  Everything we do is a matter of degree.  In one house the father talks over the mother when she's speaking and people think that's a small thing, but if that's not so bad what is the degree up from that? Is that wrong? What is the message that the daughter gets when the father does this?  Do women count?  Do we get to have a voice and decide for ourselves who and what we'll be?  Or do we have to wait for others to be quiet before we're allowed to talk?  Should we raise our hands and wait to be recognized while men get to speak freely and 'own' the floor?

This subject is rich with possibilities and I could discuss the whole rape culture that we live in and the fact that we idolize women for how they look and not what they think, but others are better at that than I am and I think I've already made my point above.  How we treat girls and women on a daily basis matters to how we think of them in general.  Once women are seen as equals, and despite all we've achieved we're clearly not seen that way, then I think we'll start to see improvements in how we treat abusers of women.  It won't be acceptable to just drop charges.   We are beginning to see more and more attention being paid to how women are treated, including Jimmy Carter stating that mistreatment of women is the number one human rights abuse and Emma Watson's speech on gender equality and feminism at the UN.

There were a lot of red flags with this shooter, not only did he have a history of domestic violence, he seems to have been a Peeping Tom and animal abuser too.  Individuals who abuse animals are also very likely to abuse people.  The FBI has announced that it will begin tracking animal cruelty in 2016.    Animal abuse is a key indicator in domestic violence situations and should never be ignored. Let's not ignore women either.

Just Walking Around the Neighborhood

My dog Alby and I live in a tiny townhouse in Columbia.  It's just me and him and so we don't need a lot of space.  I could live in a much bigger house if I moved away from Columbia, but there are things about this place that I just can't find anywhere else and who wants to clean a huge house?  

Driving around the adjoining cities and neighborhoods to Columbia, I notice differences. Sure, there are some neighborhoods with interesting and beautiful homes and lovely lush lawns, but when I look closely there's usually something missing.  Walking paths and sidewalks.  It's truly the pathways around Columbia that keep me living here more than anything else.  I have lived in Columbia since my family moved here when I was five years old.  After graduating from High School I did spend some time away while I was in College and then when I got my first job with benefits I lived in Owings Mills for a year.  There is nothing like moving away to make you appreciate all that we have waiting outside our front door.

I can walk up the street where I live and within less than a tenth of a mile, I'm turning onto the Columbia pathway system that takes me nearly anywhere I want to go.  The pathways wind around houses, through the woods, next to creeks and around lakes and ponds.  Nearly every single day Alby and I take a walk on those paths.  We have several loops in our general area that we've worked out that provide a bit of variety.  Each loop is anywhere from three to four miles long.  As we walk along we see many of our neighbors out and about as well.  It's not just that we're outside getting exercise, but we're experiencing the neighborhood and we feel part of the community.  This is especially important for someone like me with no children or spouse.

I think you can sit inside your house glued to the television, electronic devices like laptops and iPads or even stuck in a book and lose a bit of life if you're not careful.  Of course there are more ways than just walking around to feel connected to your neighbors and the community, but I do think it's one of the best ways. I've never felt lonely or lost and I think one of the main reasons is the ease of getting outside.  I head out with Alby and my neighbors see me and I see them and we chat and catch up on life.  "How are your Mom and Dad doing?"  "How does Chris like the Air Force so far?"  "Are you guys hanging out with your Dad this weekend?" "Can I pet your dog?" "How is Grace doing on swim team?"

One of my best friends likes to come for a visit, go for a good walk with me on the pathways and then in warmer weather we sit on the back deck and drink a glass of wine when we get home.  It makes for a lovely afternoon.

Alby and I walk the path in all weather.  Yes, let me say that again.  We walk the path in all weather.  Rain, snow, wind....we're out and about and you really get to see the changes in the trees and the creeks when you do this.  One thing that keeps us off the path is ice because I will be the first to admit that I prefer walking to laying on my back and nursing broken bones.  Super cold and torrential downpours are challenging, but we still get out if only briefly.  However, we love to walk in the snow and if it's deep enough I'll put on my snow shoes while Alby runs along beside me.   I love walking right after a snowfall when it's bright and sunny and everything is crisp and beautiful out.  The paths are a winter wonderland following a snowfall.  In springtime the entire path is in bloom and throughout the summer it's a beautiful, leafy green.

Wildlife abounds in Columbia too. While we're walking we have come across Owls in trees, hawks, foxes, deer and even a wild turkey.  We see Cardinals and Bluebirds and other bird species.  We see baby ducks and geese in the ponds and the Blue Heron.  Turtles sleep on floating logs and other spots while Frogs croak until you get too close.

If you live in Columbia and you haven't checked out the path near your house, you're really missing out.  Get out there and enjoy the day and meet your neighbors along the way.  The pathways even have an app now!! Columbia Pathways App.

Thanks For Everything, You Were Wonderful

Four years ago on a dreary Saturday morning, I knew that I would be saying good-bye forever to my best friend.  Two weeks before she had stopped eating.  For some strange reason, it never registered with me that this was the beginning of the very end.  I know for a fact that when humans stop eating they have about two weeks to live so why wouldn't the same be true for dogs?  I called the vet and she said let her eat what she wants and if she eats it that's great.  She ate some, but mostly she had completely lost interest in eating.  She had given up on walks over the year too.  My Mom and I joked that she really just wanted to go on a 'mosey'.

Maggy

There were days over that last year when she went on regular, multi mile, walks.  Days when she went chasing after squirrels and bunnies.  Mostly though she'd act like she was enthusiastic about the walk and then about five minutes down the road she'd come to a complete stop and turn back towards home.  I would just turn around with her.  No sense making her walk if she didn't want to go.  

I adopted Maggy from the Baltimore Humane Society in 1998.  I was 33 and she was maybe 7 or 8 months old.  A lab/possibly beagle mix, she was housetrained and she knew sit, and that was pretty much it.  Over the next 13 and a half years the two of us were nearly inseparable.  Wherever I went, Maggy went with me.  When I drove to my sister's, I brought her along.  When I slept at my parents' house, Maggy slept there too.  She slept with me even when there wasn't enough room in the bed.  One year at Thanksgiving at my sister's house I scored an army cot as a guest bed.  There was barely room for me on the skinny frame, but Maggy would wait until I was settled and still, and then hop up on top of me and settle in.  If I shifted during the night, she'd hop off, wait for me to get settled again, and then hop back up on top of me.  Needless to say I didn't have the best night's sleep that night.

Maggy was a swimmer.  I am pretty certain she could smell the water before she saw it.  She was the kind of dog who would leap off the bank into the water.  She loved the water so much that it was sometimes hard to get her out even when she was exhausted.  Once a passing kayak picked her up and gave her a paddle over to the embankment.  The kayak turned back into the river and Maggy leapt off the embankment again.  I finally had to drag her out, dry her off and head back to the car. She slept the rest of the day.

Maggy could throw a ball.  That's right, she would throw a ball to you.  After swimming, chasing a tennis ball was probably her favorite thing.  She'd chase it wherever you threw it - and I was quite talented at tossing it into the odd bush as we walked along and into places where I was fairly certain we'd never get it back.  Once she'd retrieved the ball, or looked pleadingly at me to get it when she couldn't, she'd toss it back to you high enough that you could catch it in all of it's spitty glory and throw it again.

Like most dogs though, if you're lucky, she got very old.  The last night I knew what was happening. Maggy was restless and she was breathing hard, and she seemed disoriented.  I lay awake in bed listening to her breathing thinking if she'd just let go it would be fine.   I'd fall asleep and when I woke I wouldn't hear her and I'd turn on the light, but she wasn't in the room anymore.  I got up and found her in the corner of the kitchen staring at the wall.  It was cold and rainy outside, but she kept crying to go outside.  I look at a picture I took of her about a month before this night, and she's entirely white faced, and she's super skinny and I wonder to myself how I didn't know she was getting ready to say good-bye.

Maggy was suffering on that last night.  When I first got her I had made a promise, mostly to myself, but to Maggy as well that I would never let her suffer if it was in my power to stop it.  She did not die during the night and when I got up I looked up the hours for our vet.  They opened at 8 am and Maggy and I would be there.  I called and told them I thought I needed to put my dog down.  As I said it I was already starting to sob.  They said come on in.  I turned to Maggy, "It's okay Mags, it will all be over soon."  

I never for one minute doubted my decision.  If  you've ever had a dog for a best friend this won't seem odd, because I'm pretty sure Maggy had been telling me for two weeks, "Hey, I'm going to be leaving soon.  I love you, but I have to go."  The whole event was peaceful.  Our regular vet was out of town, but our favorite vet tech was there.  So, it wasn't all strangers.  Maggy lay in my lap and just peacefully left while I held her and cried and told her how much I loved her.  "Thanks for everything Maggy.  You were wonderful." I sobbed into her ear.  

Taking her to the vet hadn't been hard, but leaving without her was downright awful.  I had a giant, aching pit in my chest, and I couldn't stop crying.  I knew I'd be sad when Maggy died, but I didn't expect it to hurt nearly as much as it did.  Dogs integrate themselves into everything.  I talked to her like she was a person, and she responded by climbing into my heart and my life.  Maybe a year after she died I stumbled across the poem "Dogs Never Die".  If you've had an old dog who has died and you read it, you will cry.  Writing this, I've been crying a lot even though it's been four years now. That's just Maggy wagging her tail.

I did learn how to get on with life after Maggy, but that's a different post as you say in blogger lingo. That's a story about Alby.