Can I Get an Amen!

Just got doen watching KWBU’s “The Ghost in Your Genes” (blew my mind and gave me goose-bumps…so sue me, I’m a nerd), and am watching KWBU’s “Stress: Portrait of a Killer” and it is blowin’ my mind as we speak.  Allow me to explain…

I work with people  who are homeless, have mental illnesses and/or substance addictions and have, generally speaking, had majorly stressful lives (in the physically/sexually/emotionally-abused-by-numerous-people-over-time- sort-of-way).  In a very intimate way, they have taught me that chronic stress is one of the most dangerous threats to a human’s health and happiness.  Although I am a strong argumentative writer, I know what words I could write about what I have just seen could not have teh same mind-blowing power as those I have posted below (from the PBS website):

“In this revelatory film, discoveries occur in an extraordinary range of places, from baboon troops on the plains of East Africa to the office cubes of government bureaucrats in London to neuroscience labs at the nation’s leading research universities. Groundbreaking research reveals surprising facts about the impact of stress on our bodies: how it can shrink our brains, add fat to our bellies and even unravel our chromosomes. Understanding how stress works can help us figure out ways to combat it and mitigate negative impacts on our health.”

I think I liked the film so much because it put into concise terms what I think about the ill effects of living in a society that admires and even encourages people who do 2, 3, 4, or 5 things at once, which only contributes to the perpetual stress that is clogging our arteries, creating fat that suffocates our visceral organs, and descimates vital neural connections that are important to our ability to remember and concentrate.

The work of Robert Sapolsky is an extraordinary connection between our environment and our internal biological processes.  It has the potential to dramatically change the way we conceptualize mental illness, generational poverty, and chronic homelessness.  I have posted the direct link to the film’s website:

http://killerstress.stanford.edu/.    Enjoy!

My suggestion…wear the under-shirt

I’ve never been one to really support old, out-of-date ways of thinking, but I think our grandmas knew something many women have apparently forgotten when they went the modesty route. Whatever happened to feeling sexy in a t-shirt and jeans? In a way, what is meant by modesty nowadays is really ‘appropriateness.’ Appropriateness of attire in a business setting, especially for a young woman with a graduate education is, in my opinion, VERY sexy.

I used to be offended when people would talk to me about the fact that it is important to ‘dress for the occassion.’ I thought that it was just another load of crap because people used attire as a way to delineate social class and thereby ‘keep the man down’. I think that there is still some truth to this, but I also think that there is something to not having your boobs hang out of your shirt for every occasion.

I am not so much irritated at immodesty so much as I am irritated at women who want respect from men in a ‘man’s world,’ but then dress like they would like to have sex in exchange for money, which has never earned anyone respect. Sorry honey, you don’t earn respect by showing off all of God’s creation…you are simply objectifying yourself. At that point, men don’t respect you…they want to have sex with you.

I am thinking in particular of one woman who I know who is trying to build herself into what most people’s definition of a successful businesswoman might be…making lots of money, looking good doing it, and running successful businesses. This woman often complains that she does not get respect from her fellow male counterparts, yet it has never occurred to her that wearing low-cut, skin-tight leopard-print dresses to case competitions might not be the most ‘respected’ idea.  This from the same person that also wears white button-ups without undershirts, exposing her bosoms to the world; I know this because said exposure was captured for all posterity in a photo hanging in the Baylor Business School Graduate Student Lounge.

It seems to me the best thing she could do for herself is work on being a little more honest with herself about what it is she is really after, and make her actions match her words.  It might still mean that her boobs take center stage, but at least she won’t be wondering why no one ‘respects’ her.  Or, she could just wear the under-shirt

Without a Doubt

“Hope is not empty optimism springing from a naive confidence that the future will necessarily be better than the past. Hope and trust are the premise of responsible activity and are nurtured in that inner sanctuary of conscience where ‘man is alone with God’ and thus perceives that he is not alone amid the enigmas of existence, for he is surrounded by the love of the Creator!” – Pope John Paul II

 

Today began as an ordinary day.  I went through my normal routine for getting ready for work, and I arrived to work shortly after 8 am, as I usually do.  I immediately gathered my supplies and headed out to the local homeless services center.  The first client we were supposed to meet with did not show up, and so I met with another client.  After meeting with this client, I decided to “mingle” by being with all those watching the inauguration from the meager comforts of the cafeteria of this homeless services center. 

 

It is a plain room, with regular, neutrally-colored tile, white walls, and white-plastic fold-out chairs and tables.  There is not usually a TV in the room, but even in one of the most conservative areas of our country, somehow the historical importance of the moment warranted the extra effort to facilitate the common viewing of the nation’s first African-American President being sworn into office.  The room, though neutrally decorated, was filled with the radiant faces that beamed in colors reminiscent of those found in mosaics.  They were the faces of those who could truly be considered in secular terms to be “just the average Joe,” those who in religious terms would be “the least of these.”

 

Looking around, I saw African American people and Caucasian people.  I saw people who seemed utterly worn by their daily struggles to simply survive, and I saw people going about their daily business.  I also saw a few people who were so engulfed by their seemingly-desperate situation that they could not stop long enough to be present in the historical moment unfolding before their eyes.  I saw African Americans who voted for the other guy, and I saw Caucasian Americans celebrating the accomplishment of our nation’s first African American President, cheering and clapping as President Obama spoke what felt like prophetic words of wisdom.

 

I saw people cramming in to a small space, patiently waiting their turn to do their laundry in some of the most public washing machines in central Texas.  The one thing that struck me the most, however, is that I also saw a group of people who were hoping.  Yes, I know, so cliché now that Barack Obama is President, but hope is the foundation of the work I do with my clients, and it moved my heart to see my clients hoping in way that somehow extended their concern beyond a merely individualistic hope to a hope that encompassed the idea of ‘the other.’  Today, I saw my clients hope, not only for a better tomorrow in their lives, but also for a better tomorrow in yours and mine.  I saw a man stand up, command their attention, and reflect their deep hope for a better future.

 

No matter what political affiliation you have, at least one thing is undeniable; the power of positive thinking and positive acting can breed hope in even the least hopeful.  Hope is not the only component of a strong foundation for a better future, but it is one of the most important.  Hope is what lets us dream, and without dreams, we linger in stagnation and discouragement.  Hope is what lets us imagine, and without imagination, we cannot be creators of a new world.  Hope is what lets us experience the fullness of our humanity, and by feeling human and helping others to feel human, we can restore the dignity and worth of every human being to its rightful place in our priorities.

 

It is my hope that we can all have the strength, courage, and fortitude to hope beyond the shadow of doubt.  So let us dream the dreams we had before the weight of the world bore down upon us, let us imagine a brave new world, and let us experience the full capacity of our being by living the hope we have for ourselves and for our world.

Do not be fooled by the cheese…

I decided to write this blog after eating at a TGIFriday’s in Buenos Aires.  My husband and I went there for the happy hour specials one evening, and we had an experience that will make us never return.  You know government cheese?  Well, this was much worse.  In fact, had I had some government cheese at the time, I would have happily used it.  We ordered our drinks (we should have gone with the beer, but that’s a different story), and we also ordered some potato skins and buffalo wings as appetizers.  I noticed as the waitress brought the potato skins that something on top seemed to be glowing.  As the potato skins arrived at our table, I realized it was the cheese…it was literally glowing neon orange!  I decided to carpe the diem and dive right in…boy was that a bad idea.  The neon-orange substance that was trying to pass for cheese was absolutely disgusting.  It was gritty, it had a plastic covering over the top of it, and it tasted awfully unlike anything I have ever tasted before.  I am not sure if it was the result of TGIFriday’s trying to maintain product supply costs at an optimally minimum level or if it was a horrible attempt at pleasing the audience, but whatever it was, it was absolutely disgusting.  I actually gagged while eating it.  The worst part was that I looked around the bar, and people were actually eating and enjoying this crazy substance.  What in the world?  I have tasted some of the best cheese ever while being here…why can’t they just shred some of that, put it over the top of the potato halves and bake?  What is so hard about that?  Who knows.  All I know is, I was not fooled by the cheese…