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The Right To Choose

The New York Times has ‘uncovered’ some misleading rhetoric regarding Plan B (aka ‘the morning after pill’.)  Many of those interested in banning the contraceptive have hitched their wagon to the notion that this pill sloths away attached cells from the uterine wall.  This is in fact not the case, and never has been.  Plan B prevents the attachment (by means that are very natural/biological but may be too ‘eeeeew’ inducing to discuss here.)

Without getting too technical or “no, she did Not just say that” let’s review what we’re discussing here.  What the banners were using as their justification for preventing access to contraceptives was that Plan B was in fact an abortifacient.  Their position is that as soon as two cells meet (an egg and a sperm) a human exists.  Sentimental rhetoric aside, there is a name for the meeting of these two cells; it’s called a zygote.  A zygote is not a fetus or embryo.  Zygotes slough off and disappear on a regular basis.  It’s nature.  Many regular monthly cycles include these invisible cells.  A zygote probably has as much of a chance as organically becoming a human as any unmet egg and sperm.  That covers the biologically, now for the chemistry.

The last thing I would ever do is provide ammunition to anyone looking to limit the human rights of others, but you know what?  You know what does slough off cells?  The I.U.D. and birth control pills do.  Both of these devices include hormones that change the lining of the uterine wall.  The presence of anything in the uterus (like an I.U.D.) prevents any attachment to the wall.  A zygote’s got nowhere to go.

It’s astounding to consider that people (and mostly they seem, to me anyway, to be men) are so concerned about sperm when it’s inside of someone else.  How could it be, if they are truly concerned about what happens to their contribution, that we still have absolutely nothing resembling reliable male birth control?  The only means we have is not traditionally embraced by men and is probably as old as the I.U.D.  Listen up men, you’ve had the corner on the medical field for centuries, whatya been doing?  Where’s your walkathon or ribbons to raise awareness for male birth control.  Where is the wait-list for reversible vasectomies?  Where is the partaking in relations only for fertilization?

I won’t hold my breath.  It’s always much more interesting to point to others as the problem.  It might even serve social purposes to belittle an entire gender, assuming they a) don’t know how their bodies work and b) can’t make informed decisions about their own reproductive life.  For whatever reason, these attacks on a woman’s body and rights have been going on forever.  And let us be perfectly clear, any limitations to contraception are an attack on women not an attempt to “save the zygote.”  There are facilities all across this globe that are creating and/or processing these microscopic conjoined cells through very expensive and sophisticated means.  They do not all become implanted, and those that do, do not all adhere and grow.  Yes, this brave new world of medically induced fertility is worth more than a cursory review from an ethics perspective.  We should be looking long and hard at the benefits and costs to our society and to the individual of these developments.  But what isn’t complicated is that every person should have control over what is done to his/her own body.  Forcing anyone to carry a pregnancy is barbaric.  Pound whatever religious text as you try to do it, hold up whatever placards you find most repugnant, but in the end, anyone daring to tell a woman to carry a pregnancy is nothing less than a barbarian.

 
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Posted by on June 6, 2012 in Cultural Critique

 

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Summerfall Winterspring

There is nothing quite so refreshing as a change of season.  The changing temperature marks the passage of time, but not in a dismal birthday candle way.  We gaze upon the first snowfall, or turning leaf with renewed wonder and thoughts of a world larger than our own daily reality.  Those fortunate to live in a four-season clime, experience the joy that comes from a transitioning season.  For just as you basked in the “first day of spring” or the first whiff of burning leaves, after three months, you’re quite tired of it all.

Adults don’t experience newness on a regular basis.  We don’t have a new teacher every year, or learn a new subject every quarter.  Unless we work in a very volatile field there is some sense of familiarity in what we do, day in and day out.  We don’t exactly become gerbils on wheels (unless we choose to of course.)  Our lives are rich and we pursue new ideas, adventures and activities.  But our very existence is not dictated by growth and change.  We are not given new responsibilities and allowed to do new and exiting things with each passing year (ex. crossing the street alone, going to the mall with friends, etc.)  We (hopefully) don’t grow out of our wardrobe every year and get the chance to reinvent our look.  Never again will we (organically) change from being a boy/girl to a man/woman.  We are what we are.

For some this stasis is more unsettling than for others.  No doubt you’ve witnessed men and women who seem to grab new personae and experiences with a certain franticness.  (This tends to occur during the time we refer to as middle-age.)  At some point they usually grow tired and accept that life might not be best approached with a checklist.  Lifetime lists might make for good bestseller fodder (or films starring men of a certain age) but they are no more of template for life than being an Avenger or a Grumpy Old Man.

Everyone finds his or her own path to meaning and beauty.  For some it is the path itself that guides their life.  For others it is the appreciation of beauty (natural and/or person-made) that is the meaning of life.  There are many that have neither luxury of course, and life for them is something to endure.  But for all of us, no matter our personal quest, we share this world.  There is something so utterly satisfying about a shared quiet smile with a stranger when the first robin is spotted.  Some of the best conversations between strangers happen in a rainstorm.  We grouse, we drip, we force ourselves to be happy for the flowers and water tables, if we’re lucky someone in the huddled cluster makes a Gene Kelly reference, and we all go on our way.  To the lives for which we construct meaning.

Along will come the sun and dry out all the rain, and we will be off to beaches, mountains, lakes, and dreadful blockbuster movies played in mercifully freezing theaters.  We will experience the indescribable joy of a shower after a day of sand and sticky seawater.  We will dine or drink out of doors and declare; “we should do this more often.”  The smell of suntan lotion or the sound of the ice cream truck will remind us of earlier times.  Perhaps happier, perhaps not.  But we will be reminded and that is good.  Thinking, if only for a moment, of the past, makes us more present.  We acknowledge that we’re still here and the game is still on.  That is what the seasons do as well.  That crocus forcing its fragile little head out of the frosty ground is in essence saying “I’m still here.”  Isn’t that everything?

 
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Posted by on June 4, 2012 in Cultural Critique, Well-Being

 

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Words Can’t Bring You Down*

“What are your thoughts on bullying?” I was asked the other day.  There’s no simple answer is there?  While not a fan of bullying, I also don’t think it’s the black plague.  We need to be careful not to label all behavior that is less than kind as bullying.  Labeling behavior as bullying does not encourage conversation and understanding but leads to “zero tolerance” policies that can have illogical and arbitrary consequences.

I don’t know if incidents of bullying have increased.  How can we know when we’re not entirely clear what bullying is?  Here’s what bullying is not; having a disagreement, calling another person a name, or excluding someone from an activity.  Bullying certainly is causing a person harm, waging an ongoing campaign of physical intimidation, and inciting ostracization or teasing.  As soon as children are old enough to engage socially (around 3 years old) they begin to create groups.  Even in kindergarten children begin to identify whom to tease.  Their target can appear to be a mirror image of the group.  They are not necessarily weaker than others.  They may be singled out for the brand of sandwich bag they bring to school.  This is how it can start.

There have always been (and undoubtedly always will be) children who behave dreadfully to other children.  There are children who are not emotionally well, and are capable of simply inconceivable acts.  But then there are children, who are, well they are children.  They show poor judgment and above all, live for the acceptance of their peers.  They find themselves caught up in a behavior that fills them with shame and even more shamefully, a little pride.

What concerns me is how children are handling being the target of less than kind behavior.  I worry that children are reacting in intense and fatal ways.  A child committing violence (to themselves or others) because they felt bullied, is not normal.  Even for an adolescent.  I worry that all children are not as strong as they once were.  (For really what is a bully but one who feels inadequate?)  I worry that we have cultivated a generation (or more) whose lives are more external than internal, leaving them feeling fragile and teetering when the world no longer applauds.

When we hold graduation ceremonies for preschoolers, kindergartners, or hell, anything below high school, we are sending an esteem-crushing message to our children: “Doing the bare minimum may be your greatest accomplishment, yeah for you!”  We are also teaching them that their worth is intrinsically tied to applause.  Every activity now has an audience.  When they play, their parents are on the sidelines or actually coaching them along.  Every recital is videotaped and shown.  In short, their lives are excruciatingly public from their first framed sonogram.

There is no internal strength that is derived from an external life (just look at the personal life of any celebrity past or present.)  Self-esteem is not cultivated through “Best Snack Provider” trophies or “Honor Student” bumper stickers.  Self-esteem is created by the self.  It is grown through mastery.  When a child navigates new terrain, on his/her own, he/she glows with the accomplishment.  When a child problem solves or conquers a fear, they grow stronger.  Praise (real or empty) does not create self-esteem, independence does.  Praising a preschooler for “good waving!” is the gateway to a lifetime of empty praises.  Children are not stupid.  They know the difference.  We build strong children by encouraging increasing amounts of independence.

A child who feels a true sense of worth, who feels they are good at something, is much less likely to pick on someone else.  He/she is also much less likely to be devastated by being picked on.  We need to take (physical and/or psychological) violence against children very seriously.  We need to equally take seriously how our children are responding to such acts.  We are a culture that loves to treat symptoms and ignore causes.  How do I feel about bullying? I feel that the stronger (adults) need to acknowledge and redress their cultivation of the weaker.

* Beautiful: Linda Perry (2002)

 
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Posted by on June 1, 2012 in Childhood

 

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It’s (not) The Real Thing

Prohibiting the sale of items for “my own protection” is so routine as to rarely garner notice.  The only times a ban becomes news is when a news conference is called.  Diet pills and aids slip off store shelves and magazine adverts disappear without our notice.  Items previously available in aisles become sequestered behind a counter.  Bottles of saccharine were pulled off lunch counters decades ago.  The lead amounts in what we smoke and what we use to fill our tanks change.  Shoe stores no longer purchase x-ray machines for children’s feet and ob/gyn haven’t purchased machines to x-ray growing fetuses in quite some time.

Standards of practice evolve, as does our orientation to products.  Limiting what can be sold as a food item is not a bad idea for a culture with a toxic relationship with processed foods.  Forcing the processed food industry to take responsibility for the bad habits they’ve helped foster is not such a bad tactic.

Mayor Bloomberg is proposing a big gulp ban in NYC.  Sugared drinks would be limited according to size.  A sweetened coffee could not be larger than 16 ounces.  Movie theaters could not sell soda in extra large cups.  Newstands could sell large sweetened drinks, but food establishments could not.  The loopholes and complexities in such a plan are a bit challenging.  Enforcing this law in any meaningful way will be a bear.  And what does it actually accomplish?  People might now feel forced to buy the more expensive (per serving) sizes, perhaps in multiples.  There will be an increase in waste and expenditure.  Soon a big gulp black market will crop up.  People will buy bottles in bulk and decant into large containers for resale.  Forcing people to buy more of something is not a good prevention tactic.

What if we were to tax non-food items the way we do cigarettes and alcohol?  A “fortified” water, soda or sport drink for $10 is not as appealing as water.  The beverage market will take a direct hit and people will drink less sugar water.  Surely this has occurred to a few people in city hall.  So what’s the problem?  Why develop a complicated system, difficult to enforce and with limited efficacy?  Why turn down potential tax revenue?  Could there have been a compromise reached between the very vocal beverage industry and the mayor’s office?

If we are serious about keeping super-sized calorie laden and nutritionally free substances out of the mouths of Americans, then we should do so.  If we want to look as if we are doing something without actually making a difference I suppose the War on the Big Gulp is the way to go.

 
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Posted by on May 31, 2012 in Cultural Critique

 

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Over Here

It’s Memorial Day and somewhere between the sales, barbecues, summer rentals and beach, we will honor those who died while in the military.  There will be beautiful and touching ceremonies and some lovely parades.  If you are lucky enough to come upon a person in uniform, you might even have the opportunity to give thanks.

And tomorrow will be Tuesday, and we will go on with our lives and joys of summer.  Wouldn’t it be great if we really did honor those who serve?  Thousands have died in Iraq and Afghanistan but hundreds of thousands have returned.  Due to advances in medicine and weaponry, some of these soldiers have survived devastating injuries.  Head injuries alone, account for survival of injuries previously unknown.  Advances in mobile medical treatment and robotics, mean soldiers with severe and multiple amputations are coming home.  For the soldiers’ families, and often for the soldiers themselves, it’s a blessing to be home.

For some, coming home is only a euphemism.  They may have joined the military, partly to have a place to live.  They may be coming back to families who have lost their home.  They may have injuries that prevent them from being in their home.  (Most homes are not wheelchair accessible.)  They may not be able to find any work, or work that is suited to their new self.

The number of Iraq and Afghanistan homeless veterans are rapidly rising.  (You can understand why the Veteran’s Administration doesn’t have actual data on this phenomenon.)  Like any homeless population there is not one path to the status.  Soldiers with head injuries (the invisible injury) can have a very challenging time resuming a normal life.  Some soldiers may have entered the military with a sensibility unsuited to the shock and awe they experienced over there.  Some soldiers return to civilian life feeling overwhelming unsettled by now being a civilian.

There are some injuries and experiences from which one never recovers.  But every person, most of all those who have put themselves in danger in the name of national security, deserves basic help.  A soldier deserves a home.  Whether we need to modify their current home, or create veteran housing (perhaps with all those empty military bases and prisons.)  A soldier deserves job training and placement (cue W.P.A.)  And perhaps less sexy and sound bite, a soldier deserves lifetime mental health care.

These are not difficult or even expensive undertakings.  These are not “sending a man to the moon” or even “war on drugs” expenditures.  These are basic human rights.  All the flag waving in the world doesn’t change the fact that for many returning soldiers, our country has let them down.

 
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Posted by on May 28, 2012 in Cultural Critique, Holiday

 

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