Category: Daily Life

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that’s my sister

IMG_3777We get so wrapped up in the world around us… so wrapped up in our passions and perspectives that sometimes we lose sight of what’s most important. And then… some days… something makes us stop. Something puts all else in perspective.

For me, that’s my sister.

Nicole is amazing. Granted, she would be far more humble than me about that statement — she’s always been more humble (… even though she can’t edit my blog posts). 🙂 She’s sweet and silly and gentle and generous. She’s faithful and fun and lights up the room. She’s brave and beautiful, and her positive attitude has always spurred on those of us around her. I love that girl…

Early Monday morning, my 34 year old sister lost her courageous battle with cancer. It’s hard for me to pen this post.

I will simply share three thoughts — insights that I think Nicole would undoubtedly, still be humble about, but ok with her big sister sharing — granted, smiling at me with that shy, contagious grin — one more, precious time…

One… too often we focus on things of lesser importance; we make a big deal about way too much. I thank God that one of the special ways Nicole sharpened me this year was to keep what’s most important, most important. Don’t let little things get in the way. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Don’t be inviting of conflict nor accepting of disrespect. We were created for better and more.

Two… faith matters; what we believe matters. Nicole loved Jesus. To all who seek him, to all who turn in his direction, Jesus offers unparalleled, peace-giving promises — promises we can bank on. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. You can bet I’m banking on those promises now.

And three… as my sister so beautifully taught through her selfless example, we can always be hopeful and positive. Our obstacles should never diminish this gift of life; the pain should instead point us to the truth — as opposed to us getting too wrapped up in all those lesser, self-prioritized passions and perspectives.

When Nicole began her battle with cancer a little over a year ago, she started a blog to give her many friends a “transparent peek” into her journey. She called her blog “Faith Hope Shine,” as it was important to Nicole to allow her light to shine even then. She was still encouraging those of us around her.

She wrote, “Feel free to join us in the days to come, as we begin this journey — sharing our faith, holding onto our hope, and shining… no matter what.”

That’s my sister.  That’s Nicole…  shining…

Did I mention amazing, too?

I thank God for my sister… and for how through her, he has again shown me what’s most important.

With truth in my tears…

AR

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the dress

bob-van-aubel-ray-bansOn Thursday the internet was flooded with a singular image (…perhaps to distract us from the massive internet regulations also adopted that day… but lest I digress…). The image could simply be coined as “THE DRESS.”

The picture posed on social media was of a new, colorful dress. Some saw it as white and gold; others saw it as black and blue; a small few found a minority variation. The ironic commonality between the two primary perspectives, no less, was that each person was certain they were right — 100% right. Each was also equally certain that those who saw any different perspective was clearly, completely wrong. In most minds, there was no logical way to view the scenario any differently.

That means households were divided… families were divided… communities were divided. In other words, the presumed certainty of opinion led directly to division. Some of that division was intense.

Prior to the suppression of the cyberspace intensity, an explanation of “THE DRESS” phenomena was put forth. Simply, sort-of-scientifically put, the way light enters our eyes and hits our retinas stimulates neural connections to the part of our brains that processes those signals into an image. In other words, there is a legitimate reason, based on light and neural processing, that two people can look at the exact same scenario from the exact same angle and still see two completely different things.

Allow me, no less, to quote an insightful, sweet friend: “The whole white/gold-black/blue dress thing was an eye-opening experience for my family… my teenage daughter said (somewhat dramatically), ‘This makes me question whether everything I see is true.’ The scientific explanation made us all feel a little relieved…YES, two people can look at the same thing and see something different. Our reality is shaped by our own perceptions. This was a great reminder of how important it is to be mindful of that when we disagree on other issues.”

What a fantastic point. Hence, I ask…

Where else are we so certain that our perspective is clearly, completely right — and any other perspective is clearly, completely wrong? … where do we have zero understanding, grace, or respect for the person who sees things differently?

  • On the root cause of terrorism?
  • On immigration and funding the Dept. of Homeland Security?
  • On the evidence for climate change?
  • On what happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri?
  • On Pres. Obama’s ambiguity addressing Islam?
  • On Tom Brady throwing footballs?
  • On limitations placed on unions?
  • On the effectiveness of another Clinton or Bush in the White House?
  • On an athlete accused of domestic violence?
  • On any perceived inequality or social injustice?

If we were individually humble enough to recognize the reality — that two people can make two totally different conclusions based on the exact same information from the exact same angle — how would it change how we interacted with one another? … how we spoke with and about another? How would it change our attempt to work together toward solution? And how would it alter the arrogance embedded within each of us when we believe we are so completely right and another is so clearly, completely wrong?

“Our reality is shaped by our perceptions,” as my wise friend said. Our perceptions, also — if not recognized for how limited they may be — often create increased, disrespectful division.

Always advocating for that understanding, grace, and respect…

Respectfully…

AR

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challenging authority

photo-1414604582943-2fd913b3cb17I will never forget that first official, performance review. As a rising, white collar professional with a great job and greater expectations, fresh out of college and ready to roll, it was finally time for my superiors to tell me how wonderful I was. 🙂 Yes, there are times we believe we have the world at our feet — and even more times when we need to be humbled (…uh, always and still…).

Truth told, my review was wonderful. On a scale of 1-5 with “1” being excellent, “3” being average, and “5” being the area in need of greatest improvement, of the 12 specific categories, I received all “1’s” and “2’s”… except for one. In a single category, I received a “3.” I was deemed “average” in one category.

Hence, being the ever mature, twenty-something that I was, I did the obvious, most seemingly honorable thing to do at the time: I pounced on the “3.” I challenged the authorities above me — not for the rave review just assessed — but rather, for the audacity of someone awarding me with a stinkin’ “3.”

Challenging authority is hard. Challenging it respectfully is harder.

Let me add one more “hard”: responding to a challenge respectfully is equally difficult.

Authority relationships exist in most life scenarios… in our homes, hobbies, associations, clubs, churches, government, etc. Authority exists in all of the above. In most organizations, there are persons bestowed with the responsibility of making decisions on behalf of other people. So how do we handle it when we legitimately, passionately disagree with some of the decision-making?

This past week, I’ve witnessed multiple, reactionary manifestations when authority has been challenged. Some reactions have been especially eye-opening…

  • The authority quickly attempting to sully the reputation of the challenger — as opposed to humbly weighing the worthiness of the objection.
  • Supporters of the authority jumping immediately to defend him or her — as opposed to thoughtfully weighing any critique.
  • The authority, challengers, and supporters of both engaging in instant ad hominem attacks — steadfastly attempting to turn attention elsewhere — as opposed to dealing with the root issue — and the issue that’s most current.

I’ve also watched…

  • One side call the other “ignorant.”
  • One side call the other “idiot.”
  • Another suggesting one belongs in a “cult.”
  • And still more rhetorically attacking what I term our “reputation jugular.”

Both sides feel justified in calling the other names and in all sincerity, utilizing despicable, disrespectful adjectives. Also, intelligence doesn’t always diffuse the disrespect; it typically only makes the disrespectful descriptions sound better.

Let’s be clear: authority can and should be respectfully questioned. No man nor human institution has life all figured out, so no man nor human institution is incapable of error. But it’s difficult to navigate through the challenging-of-authority process when other factors are in play. For example…

  • Listening well to other points of view is rare…
  • The sense of decorum is long gone….
  • Self-focus is often rampant…
  • None of us especially like criticism… and…
  • Social media has made the process worse (…did I say “far worse”?).

It’s ok to question authority if solution is the goal. It’s equally ok to push back on the questioner as long as one listens first, weighs the opinion, and is completely humble in response. There is no place for arrogance permeating any part of the process… even…yes… for a white collar professional with a great job, fresh out of college, who thought they were wonderful at the time.

Respectfully…

AR

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slugs & jabs

FullSizeRenderSunday afternoon I had the pleasure of watching one of my son’s games. Like all proud parents, I enjoy watching my sons in their respective activities. Thankfully, my pleasure is no longer dependent upon the number of points they score, complete games they pitch, or whether or not they have a lead role. I’ve matured to a point (thanks, God) that I can celebrate each child for who he is and how he is uniquely gifted — as opposed to basing my pride on performance and accomplishment.

My youngest son, Josh, has helped much with that. It’s hard to adhere to pride based on performance when you have a special needs child. Life becomes a little more clear then — what’s most important, that is (another “thanks, God”).

There was one moment in Sunday’s basketball game which I found to be particularly insightful. There was a perhaps 11/12 year old boy on my son’s team, who was no more than four feet tall; he was actually quite physically skilled. He could dribble, shoot, and was unquestionably assertive on the court. Most of his peers were significantly taller; however, since the individual physical and cognitive disabilities differed, size did not dictate athletic dominance.

At one point, the small young boy dribbled smack dab into the middle of the lane, and a taller — albeit seemingly more physically challenged teen — stood directly in his way. The taller boy had flimsily stabbed at the ball a few times; it was a rather meek effort, but a stabbing just the same. His goal was to stop our enthusiastic, assertive four footer.

My four foot friend was obviously annoyed, though, as he encountered the defense; someone was opposing what he wanted to do. Hence, the four footer dribbled and penetrated, dribbled and penetrated, and then stopped dead in the lane, picking up his dribble. Then in his next, seemingly instantaneous move, the boy moved the ball to under one arm and used his other arm to slug his defender. He popped him right in the shoulder. The four footer then resumed his dribble, having subdued his opponent, and proceeded to follow through with his shot. (Thankfully, the defender was not hurt — granted, it was not from a lack of trying).

Now one of the many things I admire about my son and his peers is that they invest very little time in impression management; they don’t typically fake things, say things, or do things in order to control the image others have of them. They tend to live more freely — not allowing emotion to get in the way; they thus, also, typically do not hide how they feel. So on Sunday, when the young man was frustrated with the opposition, he slugged him; he threw a punch. He found the opposing of his ambition annoying, and so he simply let loose, so-to-speak.

It made me wonder: how often do we just “let loose” when someone gets in our way? … when someone opposes us? … when we find the opposition of another annoying?

Most of us are surely wise enough to refrain from physical slugging, but what keeps us from administering a verbal blow? …

Feel like someone is keeping your idea from being heard? … feel like their idea might be accepted by others? Shout at them; talk louder. 

Don’t like something someone says that refutes your feeling or logic? Just insult them; maybe it will stick; maybe others will believe it. 

The old adage that “sticks and stones will break our bones, but words will never harm me” is not one we believe in — otherwise we wouldn’t spend so much effort justifying the verbal jabs when there’s opposition in our lane. We should listen more, speak less, refrain from insult, and ask more questions in order to comprehend.  And if we ever pick up our dribble, we should never feel justified slugging away… even with verbal jabs.

Respectfully…

AR

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who are we?

A fascinating statement…

With the questionable on-again/off-again moves by Sony Pictures these past two weeks considering release of a controversial movie after threats from North Korea, Pres. Obama addressed the issue in a year end press conference. He said, “We cannot have a society in which some dictator some place can start imposing censorship here in the United States… that’s not who we are.”

When Obama announced this fall that he has the executive authority to alter immigration law, he delivered a prime time address in which he acknowledged that while criminals still need to be deported, deporting millions of others “isn’t realistic.” To defend his controversial move, he added, “It’s also not who we are as Americans.”

Again, after a controversial, questionably substantiated report was released in December by Senate Democrats regarding CIA tactics after 9/11, Obama publicly responded, “Some of the tactics that were written about in the Senate Intelligence report were brutal and, as I’ve said before, constituted torture, in my mind. And that’s not who we are.”

We are always declaring who we are not. It’s also not always Pres. Obama…

Last week as the annual bowl game season commenced, Brigham Young and the University of Memphis found themselves in a tight, two-overtime contest, with Memphis finally edging out the Cougars 55-48. With the game complete in addition to both teams’ dreams of winning, a brawl broke out on the field. Dozens of players partook in the punching. Said Memphis coach Justin Fuente in the immediate aftermath, “I don’t know what happened at the end… It’s not who we are.”

So what is this notion of declaring “it’s not who we are”? Note that the practice is not to actually declare who we are; it’s declaring who we are not.

Who, no less, is capable of declaring such? And what’s the reason for the declaration?

As with many rhetorical one liners, it seems to this semi-humble observer that impression management must be motive #1… “impression management”… saying or doing things around other people in order to convey a specific impression. Obviously, for example, the head coach of the Memphis football team does not want the watching world to think of his team as a bunch of thugs who beat up on other people… “that’s not who we are.” True. They are not. But they are a team who got into a significant fight at the end of the game…

… we are a nation that deports the illegal… we are a nation that has struggled with censorship… we are a nation which had to find a way to respond to 9/11… we are a nation that has made good decisions and poor decisions… and we are a nation that often disagrees on what those are.

My point is that the “not who we are” line is more about controlling the narrative that an actual truthful statement. Allow me to speak for myself. I’ve made my share of foolish mistakes. I’ve said some stupid things, done some stupid things, and put my foot in my mouth on one too many occasions.  It still — unfortunately — happens.  Is that who I am?

That’s not the right question. Better put would be, “Is it consistent with who I want to be?” No, not at all. But we are each capable of saying and doing some stupid things. That, truthfully, is who we are.

Respectfully…

AR

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a lack of comprehension

I witnessed a fascinating exchange this week. ABC’s “The View” hosts were again passionately bantering — this day about the evolution and effects of racism — when Whoopi Goldberg and Rosie O’Donnell seemed to somewhat tear into one another. O’Donnell boldly made the comment that “you don’t have to be black to know what racism is!” Goldberg immediately fired back, “Yes, you do!”

I find that fascinating. I mean, I get it. I really get it. I get that when we have a unique scenario or hardship in our life, we conclude that others who have not the hardship do not comprehend what we do — that others are actually incapable of understanding. Those who have been oppressed by racism, for example, have experienced a plight that others have not. It’s a plight that hurts… that’s hard… that comes with a unique set of challenges. We must not diminish the plight of another even and especially when different than our own.

We’re tempted, no less, to reserve that lack of comprehension distinction in other areas…

You don’t have to be an atheist to know what unbelief is…

You don’t have to be adopted to know what rejection is…

You don’t have to have cancer to know what suffering is…

You don’t have to be a single parent to know what loneliness is…

You don’t have to be gay to know what discrimination is…

You don’t have to be poor to know what sacrifice is…

And still many of us adamantly respond: yes, you do.

Like I said, I get it. I get how we conclude that someone who shares not our circumstances or life stage is incapable of comprehension. To the Intramuralist, that’s a logical conclusion. It’s also a conclusion I’m thankful to have not always made.

Once again on Thursday, I referenced the wisdom of my youngest son. Yes, Josh is pretty amazing. He’s a growing, budding, delightful young teen who seems to be sprouting in wisdom in a whole new way. He has changed the way I think, and he has challenged me to grow in areas I otherwise would have missed. Josh has Down syndrome.

When Joshua was born 13 years ago, I remember quickly connecting with other parents of kids with such a special need. We somewhat flocked to one another, as we shared a similar, obvious plight. My sense was we were able to more immediately empathize with one another, recognizing that each of us faced a shocking loss in the expectations of who our children would grow up to be.

While I’ve come to realize as a parent that we have to alter the expectations for each of our children (with Josh, that change was simply forced at birth), I learned something else at the time which I believe was also especially wise…

While flocking to those with like scenarios was comforting because I knew they understood, it was wrong of me to assume that those who did not share my circumstances were incapable of understanding. The longer I clung tightly to my bubble of disbelief — that similar experience was the only means to comprehension — the longer I was challenged to grow outside that bubble.

Friends, there is no judgment in my words. Like I said, I get it. I get it. It is tempting when we experience a plight that hurts, that’s hard, and that comes with a unique set of challenges, to conclude that no one else gets it. The added challenge is that we then widen the division with others, and end up bantering and shouting and making assumptions — instead of ever positively and productively dealing with the issue and emotion at hand.

Respectfully… never with shouting…

AR

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life is hard

IMG_1534Banking on some of the creativity within our household, I’ve solicited the talents today of a young son to help me with today’s post. No, we are not embarking on a winter guest writer series; stay tuned for next summer when our clever writers will again exhibit their contagious wisdom and wit.

My youngest son, though, is pretty amazing. Yes, yes, I know we each tend to be partial to our own flesh and blood, yet I’m fairly certain even if I was not blessed to be his parent, I would still find Joshua to be amazing.

Young, master Josh possesses many gifts, such as (he would gleefully wish for me to inform you) some rather impressive, new dance moves he typically shares with the world each brisk early morning, as we wait for daily school bus.

One of his more fascinating gifts, no less, is his ability to speak the truth. Fascinating, friends, because I believe that in contemporary society, such a gift is rare. So many people feel the only way to speak truth is to shout it; so many others have little respect for the totatlity of their audience; and so many still say one thing to one crowd, and yet a different word to another. Truth is truth. And Josh, this amazing, 13 year old boy with special-but-by-no-means-debilitating needs, knows how to speak it. This week, he spoke it again…

We’ve been wrestling with a serious illness in our family. It’s tough. It’s hard. It’s hard to watch someone you love struggle.

As the last few months have passed, we’ve shared portions of the physical progression with Josh, as he, too, cares deeply for each of our family members. Yet this week one morning, instead of focusing on those new moves, he was simply not his typical self. He was so obviously, emotionally moved; and he was sad. Josh’s entire attitude and activity was thrown off that morn, and it was visible in every ounce of his being. He asked me to please come sit with him.

As I sat down, Josh shared with me that he could not stop thinking about our family member. He was rattled. Upset. When I tried to appease him some, try to pep him up a little, he immediately snapped his head up from it’s downcast pose, yelling at me. “Mom, you don’t understand! I don’t trust God with this!”

And there you have it…

You don’t understand. I don’t trust God with this.

Isn’t that the reality for us as adults? Isn’t that the truth?

It made me think of how often as adults, we don’t trust God… how intelligence gets in the way… how passion and emotion get in the way… how there are so many aspects and areas and struggles and scenarios in which we validate trumping God’s providence and care because of how we feel. And so for whatever reason, we choose not to trust the God of the universe. We don’t trust him with…

Provision. Justice. The future. The current… We too often take too many things into our own hands.

Josh and I proceeded to together conclude that this is tough stuff. In fact, when I shared that such is the struggle for every living, breathing, human being, he seemed to get it… “It’s just hard to trust when life is hard, but I know still, God loves me.”

Josh finished his breakfast, and then we went outside and danced. It was a little slower of a song. Maybe next summer he’ll be a guest writer, too.

Respectfully…

AR

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understanding

huddleCLR“Mom, you just don’t understand!” said one son yesterday morning, after hiding his sibling’s things in order to get back at him for a perceived, serious offense. You just don’t understand. We are way too good at placing all onus on someone else — that the essence of the problem is the ignorance of another — as opposed to empathy for all.

How many times do we sit back in our less-than-humble perches boldly sharing with another that they need to understand?

Friends, you need to understand…

Parents, you need to understand…

Kids, you need to understand…

Men, you need to understand…

Women, you need to understand…

Husbands, you need to understand…

Wives, you need to understand…

Black people, you need to understand…

White people, you need to understand…

Liberals, you need to understand…

Conservatives, you need to understand…

Those in between, you need to understand…

Americans, you need to understand…

Native Americans, you need to understand…

Christians, Jews, Muslims, gays, straights, architects, economists, ice cream salesmen, etc., you need to understand…

We so easily call out all people groups, assuming an entire group thinks and feels the same. We so easily magnify what they are missing as opposed to reflect upon our own omissions.

You just don’t understand.

I wonder how the world would operate differently, if instead of boldly proclaiming the omissions of others, we spent more time humbly reflecting upon the gaps in our own wisdom. Would that not encourage empathy for all — as opposed to only empathy for some? And if empathy is only for some, is it really empathy?

Too often we pounce upon what another people group doesn’t “get” — placing all onus upon them, as if we know better and best. “We” will each know things another does not; but none of us know all. Too often, too, this happens either in social media or before public microphones and cameras; in other words, too often this happens outside the authenticity of face-to-face, respectful conversation. It dumbfounds me how so many fall so easily prey to a social media boldness that limits authentic dialogue and conversation. Sorry… but that’s not brave; that’s not bold. That’s a lack of respect for other people.

“But Mom, you just don’t understand!”

What was the offense that called for my son’s clamor? One of his older brothers said something to him that he didn’t like. Defensive due to a seemingly crass expression, my youngest chose to then hide an ample supply of my oldest’s personal belongings.

Did I understand? Maybe. Maybe not… I get your anger. I get your frustration. I get that this is a big deal for you, and even though I don’t share your perspective, I want to hear you and walk with you through this… I also desire to teach my son better… teaching him to look inside himself first, never allowing his offense to impede the humble reflection that leads to wisdom and growth.

Respectfully…

AR

Posted on

mom a

pinwheelYears ago, as a young mom with three little kids in tow, I remember visiting my mother-in-law’s home for the weekend — a too infrequent delight for our entire family. After we sat down for breakfast and the always abundant spread of eggs, bacon, toast, muffins, and more, Mom A excused herself from the table, went to the pantry, and promptly placed a fresh box of Nabisco Pinwheels smack-dab in the middle of our meal. Yes, Pinwheels. Yes, breakfast. You know the ones: those old fashioned, marshmallow cream, mini-Bundt cake looking cookies, totally doused in sugar, covered in oh-so-unhealthy chocolate.

As a young mom committed to raising my kids in the way they should go, I couldn’t believe it. Pinwheels… really?! How could my mother-in-law, who’s supposedly older and wiser and attempting to help us in this prudent, persevering, raising-of-kids process, even think of putting such a sugar fest right in front of my boys? But having one of those indignant, self-righteous moments that every unknowingly immature, growing parent must confront now and then, I remained silent, said nothing, while quietly steaming inside that my kids were about to be ruined for life.

Funny. I’d like that moment back right now.

I stand amazed — and humbled — at how much we sometimes don’t know… and don’t know we don’t know…

My righteous indignation was undoubtedly well-founded, as of course, each of us wants to contribute positively to the lives of others; of course, we want to be healthy; and of course, as young parents we’re often feel we’re doing the very best we can. But what I couldn’t grasp at the time was how the offering of an unexpected, sincere treat did not impede any progress. In fact, eating those sweet Pinwheels may have been healthier in an emotional sense — noting how we were pausing to enjoy something we typically don’t… how we were intentionally enjoying something good.

My mother-in-law modeled many things well for our family. Among them…

… how to eat a blueberry bagel…

… how to semi-subtly tap in a puzzle piece, so that everyone would know you found exactly the right piece…

… how going to church every Sunday is less important than an authentic relationship with Jesus…

… how to be intentional with boys…

… how to discern really good barbecue…

… how to be consistent in honoring your spouse…

… how to be generous…

… how to be faithful…

… how to love a child other than your own…

… and how and when to intentionally enjoy a treat — how to savor something good.

After only a short stay in the hospital, Mom A passed away somewhat suddenly this past week. She had lived a good life, and valiantly modeling her faith for us once more, she was ready to go — embracing both what’s beautiful and next. I will miss her dearly. I will also be serving Pinwheels soon for breakfast.

Respectfully… lovingly… with both a wink and a tear…

AR

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what it is


whats_in_a_name.2Let’s call it what it is — and not what it’s not…

The unfathomable beheading at a food processing plant in Oklahoma City is not simply “workplace violence.” It was the evil act of a disgruntled, fired employee who was a Muslim convert, who may or may not have been imitating recent, publicized acts by Muslim militants overseas — who have publicly called on Muslims across the globe to join in the terror.

The military involvement overseas attempting to destroy ISIS is not simply a coalition addressing a “conflict.” It is a war. War is “a state or period of fighting between countries or groups” or “an organized effort by a government or other large organization to stop or defeat something that is viewed as dangerous or bad.” The United States is fighting organized terrorist groups — currently ISIS, the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria.

(Note: that also means that there is no “war” against women, teachers, or Christmas, much to the rhetorical chagrin of many.)

We also are not fighting simply against a “radical extremist group.” We are fighting against an Islamic extremist group. While many seem most comfortable omitting the religious affiliation, the reality is that Christians, Jews, Buddhists, etal. do not kill former members or those who don’t embrace their religion. As said ironically, perhaps best by the too-oft, in my opinion, disrespectful Bill Maher: “Vast numbers of Christians do not believe that if you leave the Christian religion you should be killed for it. Vast numbers of Christians do not treat women as second class citizens. Vast numbers of Christians do not believe if you draw a picture of Jesus Christ you should get killed for it.”

And perhaps Maher’s best line, when CBS/PBS’s Charlie Rose attempted to compare the ISIS terrorists to so-called “radical” Christians: “Well you’re wrong about that. The Qur’an absolutely has on every page stuff that’s horrible about how the infidels should be treated.”

(Another note: many do not know what the Qur’an actually says.)

My point again: let’s call things what they are — and not what they’re not…

As for the “what they’re not” perspective, observe the current hot seat of Democratic Party Chairwoman, Debbie Wasserman Schultz. Regardless of one’s political leanings, she’s fascinating to watch. Let me say now, I don’t know her heart; I don’t know what drives her; I have no ability to accurately assess her moral integrity. But with multiple polls suggesting a current souring of Democratic candidates as we near the November elections, she’s restlessly working to drum up support for the politically likeminded. For a second time in recent months, she’s actually said that an opposing gubernatorial candidate has given women “the back of his hand.” What Wasserman Schultz must intend to imply (accuracy seems secondary) is that her opponent’s policies have not been friendly to the female gender. However, she instead calls the candidates something they are not.

Yes, we should call things what they are — not what they are not — always with respect, recognizing, too, we may possess a limited view of the facts.

Respectfully…

AR