RBG

I wrote on Facebook the impact that Ruth Bader Ginsburg's death had on me.  I said that I don't cry for politicians or judges, but I cried when I found out that RBG had died.   

Tony and I saw the movie about her life, "On the Basis of Sex," and the documentary, RBG.  Like her, both were powerful and thought provoking.   I have often said, that the only basic difference between men and women is the manner in which we pee.  People would laugh when I said that, but think about it.   Think about that for a minute.  Do men have an extra pair of hands?  Legs built of steel?  X-ray vision?  No.  Do they have an extra brain?  No.  So why would anyone think that women are intellectually inferior?  Why would law professors criticize women for being accepted into a law program because they "took up a space a man could have."  Did women take different tests to get into the program?  Was there a pink test that had easy questions on it?  No.  At every turn in her youth, she was questioned.  Not for her ability, but for her gender.  

RBG was my hero because as my career progressed, I faced some of the same scrutiny, and it made me angry.   Years ago when I worked for Chemical Bank, our division moved into a new facility, the management team took a tour.    When we got to my office, a male peer (Vice President, exact same title) of mine turned to our SVP and asked, "How come she gets such a big office?"  Keep in mind, our offices were the same size.  Our SVP, responded, "To reflect her responsibilities, just like yours."   Why would my male peer even think he had the right to question the size of my office?

There was also a time when family members were discussing work.  My husband, who has always been proud of my work ethic, said, "Jan is at her desk every day by 7:00, even though the work day doesn't start until 8:30."  At that point, a male family member looked at me and said, "why, do you have to make the coffee?"  Tony jumped back into the conversation, and said, "she has people who make coffee for her."  I wouldn't ask people to make me coffee, but I got his point.  The male family member didn't.  He wasn't criticizing me, to him the only reason why a female would be at her desk an hour and a half early was to get the coffee ready for the men. 

These are the attitudes that Ruth faced so many years ago.  I'm guessing our daughters are still facing those same attitudes.  Why?    Women are as good as men and every woman should know that, remember that and live by that. 

And so, my hero has died.  Here are some of her words that made her my hero :

"A gender line helps to keep women, not on a pedestal, but in a cage."

"Woman belong in all places where decisions are being made. It shouldn't be that women are the exception."

"I would like to be remembered as someone who used whatever talent she had to do her work to the very best of her ability."

                                            And my personal favorite.....

When asked when will there be enough women on the Supreme Court, she replied:

"When there are nine."  (The audience she was addressing, laughed at her comment.)  She explained, "There have been nine men on the Supreme Court and no one ever raised a question about that."

Ruth Bader Ginsburg was not "anti-man," she was pro, "be the best you can be."

Now, that's a hero.

 

Baby Yoga

The highs and lows of depression are still with me, but since David, Brenda and Alex have been visiting, I find myself laughing.  Really laughing. 

Alex is quite the entertainer.  She does Baby Yoga, sings songs, dances, counts and colors; while telling me what color she is using in English and then in Spanish. 

I am usually the last one up in the morning and when I make my way to the lanai where everyone is enjoying coffee, Alex sees me and runs to me with her arms open, ready to jump up and give me a big hug.

She puts her head on my shoulder and I whisper, "Did you have a good sleep?"  And she answers quietly, "yes....did you have a good sleep Momo?"   I could be happy waking up every day that way.   

We went downtown for dinner last night and she was so well behaved.  She had chicken and fruit and then we came home and had a small birthday party with cupcakes and ice cream.  She sang "Happy Birthday," with us and seemed to enjoy her presents.  We got her a pretty dress with a wide brimmed hat that she wears with the attitude of a super fashion model. 

She is back in school now and named off all of her classmates and teachers.  She is such a happy little thing.  She gets joy out of our twinkle lights and butterflies.  I put the lava lamp on the first night she was here and she lightly touched it.  I told her it was not hot, so now whenever she sees it, she states, "Momo, not hot."  

We played kickball in the back yard and she was fascinated by the yellow plastic flower in the Zeno's yard that spins in the wind.  Sometimes being with her is like seeing something ordinary in a very special way.  

I think when they go back to Florida, I'll be doing Baby Yoga.  I won't do it as well as Alex did, but it will bring back sweet memories. 

Pictures later......

The Highs and the Lows

 

I think that the trip home to Cleveland a few weeks ago took more out of me than I thought it would.  I was so excited to see everyone and get together for birthday dinners and social lunches.  But now that I'm back, I feel empty.  My depression is at an all time high and even getting out of bed is a chore.  

Maybe it was interacting with so many different people in a short period of time.  Maybe it was negative conversations.  Who knows?  But whatever it was, I can't shake it.

I'm being published again in Cape Fear Voices--and I'll be in a special glossy edition, but even that doesn't light me up like it should.  Depression is like having someone sitting on the top of your head.  It's heavy and it follows you all around.  I'm tired of being depressed.  

And now, it's September, fall--my favorite time of year.  Alex will be 3 at the end of the month and we get to see her next week.  I have been practicing my colors in Spanish, but she is probably way past that now.    

I've been writing letters to the Cleveland grandkids in response to the Birthday letters they gave me.  Each of them are so different.  I sent Ben a check for his birthday and it was cashed the other day.  I'm not sure why, but I looked at the back of the check when it hit my account.  He printed his name so Jenna could co-sign and cash it and I realized that he doesn't write in cursive.  I guess keyboarding has eliminated the need for learning cursive.   He is in public school now and I worry that he will feel out of place since he has been home schooled.  He's really cute, so I know the young ladies will like him.  I just hope that these final school years will give him good memories. 

Of all of the letters, Ellie's was the most entertaining.  It was more like a conversation than a letter.  As odd as it sounds, I felt like she writes like I do.  She starts on a subject, interjects a related thought and then says something funny.  She included a "PS" in her letter that said it only took her less than 30 minutes to type out her letter and that she was proud of herself.  Ellie has a strong sense of self that I hope she never loses.

Sam looks so much like Bill, Jenna's father.  He is athletic and gifted.  He played the banjo for us and he was very good. 

Zach is the sweetest kid.  He's quiet, but funny.  He can twist his body around like my sister, Fritz, used to.  Jon says Zach is not double jointed, but he sure looks like he is.

I'm glad we got to see them.  And, I have included a picture which to me is typical of 2020.  Sitting in a garage due to the virus.