Monthly Archives: September 2010

A “Culture Crisis”

Facebook Idiocy, , , , , ,

There’s been an insidious post making the rounds of facebook the last few days that you’ve perhaps seen.  It’s a “letter to the president” about Medicaid and government  subsidized health care in general.  Pictured is a young physician with a kind face.  He’s not terribly attractive, sort of nondescript.  He’s the kind of guy you’d see at your neighborhood block party, with whom you might strike up a conversation.  He’d tell you about working in the ER and the conversation would naturally turn to stories.  Maybe he’d recount a time he saved a little boy’s life, or the craziest thing he’d ever had to un-lodge from someone’s head.  His effusive and charming manner would make you trust his judgment, you would lean in and laugh easily at his anecdotes.  Then he would get a bit more serious and tell you something like:

During my shift in the Emergency Room last night, I had the pleasure of evaluating a patient whose smile revealed an expensive shiny gold tooth, whose body was adorned with a wide assortment of elaborate and costly tattoos, who wore a very expensive brand of tennis shoes and who chatted on a new cellular telephone equipped with a popular R&B ringtone.

This is that point when something in the back of your throat should begin to tickle.  Something is off.  But this man is a doctor, he’s just telling you a true story!  He goes on:

While glancing over her patient chart, I happened to notice that her payer status was listed as “Medicaid”! During my examination of her, the patient informed me that she smokes more than one pack of cigarettes every day, eats only at fast-food take-outs, and somehow still has money to buy pretzels and beer. And… Congress expect[s] me to pay for this woman’s health care? I contend that our nation’s “health care crisis” is not the result of a shortage of quality hospitals, doctors or nurses. Rather, it is the result of a “crisis of culture” a culture in which it is perfectly acceptable to spend money on luxuries and vices while refusing to take care of one’s self or, heaven forbid, purchase health insurance. It is a culture based in the irresponsible credo that “I can do whatever I want to because someone else will always take care of me”. Once you fix this “culture crisis” that rewards irresponsibility and dependency, you’ll be amazed at how quickly our nation’s health care difficulties will disappear.

This is the part of the party where my response depends on how many beers I’ve had, but here are just a few of the responses to this on facebook:

We must stop these poor people from having “highly maintained appearances”!!!  They should wear barrels and top hats with the top popped off!

And sure.  We think of the poor and we wonder why Medicaid Guy has a nicer phone than us.  It seems wrong.  This guy is just tapping into a common sense idea.  He’s a doctor trying to give an unbiased observation of the state of our system?  Right?

If you replace “unbiased” with “privileged and kind of racist,” then yes.

Your nice doctor neighbor sure wants you to know that black people are the problem.  Are R&B ringtones more expensive than other genres?  No.  Would he be outraged by non-gold dental work?  No.  That’s code.  White people use it because they can’t say, “this ghetto black lady came into my office and had the nerve to express herself in a way that I find  culturally inferior and was unable to pay for insurance on her own.”  This racial aspect is not coincidental.  It’s tapping into the idea of “welfare queens” and lazy black people.  If a white girl with porcelain veneers (which are more expensive than gold ones) and a country song for a ringtone came in, would this be an issue?  No.  People who don’t have health insurance or have it through Medicaid aren’t in this situation because outrageous costs or a bad economy.  They are dumb black folks gold-toothed, sneaker wearing, R&B listeners working the system to get a free ride. Yaknowhadimean?

But let’s talk about this living beyond her means.  Did Dr. Starner Jones ask her when she got her (again, less expensive than porcelain) cap?  Might it have been before she was on Medicaid?  Could it possibly be that a friend did her tattoos?  Were her shoes knock-offs or gifts?  Did he ask her how much her new phone cost?  Is he aware that new phones are often free?   Does he think a new phone, a ringtone, shoes, fast food, cigarettes, or *gasp* pretzels and beer could possibly, even added together, equal the cost of health insurance? You know, monthly? Should people who are on government assistance not be allowed to buy beer?  Have tattoos?  Use cell phones?  Who gets to decide what is living within your means and what is frivolous?  No one knows this woman’s situation but her.

For people who don’t want to be told how to spend their money, Dr. Starner Jones and his ilk sure have no problem telling other people how to spend theirs.

So fuck you, Roger Starner Jones, MD.  The problem with health care is not a “culture” that “rewards irresponsibility and dependency,” it’s privileged assholes like you that are so narcissistic they think if they can do it, anyone can.  It’s a culture that puts so little value on human life that it believes the punishment for not balancing your check book should be life-threatening medical neglect.  It’s that you think skipping the pretzels and beer will magically fix whatever situation has made this patient eligible for Medicaid or the system that has left millions of Americans uninsured.  Not lazy, black Americans, just Americans: unemployed, part-time and full-time workers, mothers and children, people without families to support them, the homeless, the self-employed, all races, all ages.  People who are just trying to get by.  And I, for one, think they should be able to have a fucking beer without your snarky judgment… or better yet an R&B ringtone.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T (Part I)

Human Behavior, RESPECT, Tips For a Better Life, , , , ,

Today I’m going to tell you something about respect: it’s important! Even respect for people you employ.  I know this because my parents taught me to treat people like humans, but also because I have worked as a maid, a nanny, and a lot of other service jobs, and I enjoy being treated like a human.

This PSA on respect is directed at all those families with nannies.  I know there are some scary situations out there and that you are trusting the most precious part of your life with someone who isn’t you.  That’s got to be hard.  And yet, those people are people too.

So here are some “Do”s and “Don’t”s  to avoid making your nanny feel disrespected, and are directed at no one in particular, especially not my employer who may or may not participate in some or every single one of these behaviors:

1. Do tell them your plans. It’s a small thing, really, but if you know that you aren’t going to be home until one in the morning and you know that your nanny has to work another job early the next day, it’s nice to give them a heads up as to how long you intend to be out.

2. Don’t expect them to be free at all times. There’s nothing wrong with asking someone to work at the last minute, but try not to get upset if they can’t.  Especially if you know they have another job and you’re asking them to take time off from said job in order to work for you.  Once you give someone a schedule, they might make other plans because, oddly, they too have lives.

3. Don’t complain about how you have to pay them if they have a conflict. If you’ve ignored #2 and chosen to get upset that they are not free at your every whim, don’t complain about the “good money” you pay for “an open schedule.” Especially don’t do this if having an “open schedule” has never, ever been discussed or requested in the past.   Especially, especially don’t do this if you pay them well below industry standard.

4. Don’t tell them you don’t trust them to “discipline” your kids. Perhaps you did walk in on another babysitter yelling at your children and now you’re “terrified of leaving them alone.”  Maybe you’re worried that other people are raising your children by telling them no.  But telling a nanny who has never crossed any lines that she is not allowed to discipline your children, including time-out or taking things away from them, is like telling a bus driver that they are not allowed to use the brakes, and must creatively find a way to stop the bus (your children) from passing the school (shoving each other off of stools onto your concrete flooring).  It is a sign that despite how much you claim you and the children adore her, you do not respect her enough to give her the authority to do the job you pay her (good money!) to do.

5. If you’ve asked your nanny to alert you any time there is a behavior problem in lieu of “discipline,” pick up the phone/leave your room. If you have decided on the aforementioned discipline ban, and have explained that in a time of disobedience you should be contacted to fix the situation, you should answer your phone as promised. This also applies to when you are on the computer or about to hang out with your friends.  Doing what you say you will do is a respectful act, but this is even more important now that you’ve made your nanny an authority-less tattletale.

6. Don’t chastise your nanny for not giving in to temper tantrums. If you see your daughter rolling on the floor screaming because she wants three treats instead of the mutually agreed upon one, don’t tell your nanny that she shouldn’t “discipline” your child by not giving her three.  Not only does this make your nanny feel disrespected, but also teaches your child to not respect her.  It will also probably result in your hypothetical child immediately demanding seven treats… which she did as soon as she had her three.

7. If your daughter punches your nanny in the eye encourage her to apologize. If you ask her to apologize and she says “no” and starts screaming, don’t shrug and ask your nanny what she wants you to do before walking away.   Look at your nanny and think, she is a human and I am a human.  Would I want to be punched in the eye?  If I were punched in the eye, how would I, as a human, like to be treated? Then pretend that you are a parent and that you are raising a child to have respect for other humans.  Remember that going to bed without a book is not abuse, nor is the word “no.” Discipline (without quotations) your child until she does apologize.  Be appropriately embarrassed by this situation and then apologize for her.  While you’re at it, apologize for the many times you have watched your children hit, kick and spit on your nanny without saying a thing and apologize for that as well.  Tell your nanny that you are sorry that you have been so condescending and passive aggressive about her failure to magic your children into quiet, clean, obedient kids.  Then turn to your children and tell them how sorry you are that you are raising them without any consistent behavioral rules.  Tell them that you understand that they break toys and bedroom windows because they are desperate for boundaries.  Tell them you understand that by taking away all authority from the adult in charge of them, you have, in fact, put their lives in danger.  Apologize for teaching them to be mean, violent brats, instead of the beautiful, sweet, smart kids they have the potential to be.

Then give your nanny gobs of money to make up for all of this and call it a day!

So there you have it! Respect isn’t hard but may take some practice if you are new to it.  Use these universal, non-family-specific tips the next time you find yourself employing a nanny or babysitter to ensure a pleasant experience for all parties involved.  Happy child rearing!

Photo by Kate Elizabeth

The Way We Were

Tea Party, , , ,

In case you’ve bought a faux-patriot-douche filter for your media intake, Glenn Beck held a “Restoring Honor” rally a weekend ago on the place and anniversary of Martin Luther King’s “I have a Dream Speech.”

Finally, all the hoards of frightened white people who make up the Tea Party had a place to honor the MLK by whining about how the liberals are Jim-Crowing all their rights to treat Muslims and immigrants as second-rate humans, and live in a tax and government free theocracy.  Dr. King would be so proud.

When asked by the media what the hell “Restoring Honor” meant, Glenn replied,

“Most of the reports seem to completely miss the mark of what I’ve named it. Honor. “Restoring Honor.” Merit. I mean, how much more obvious? How are you missing this? Merit, honor.”

Oh, right, restoring America’s merit.  Honor.  Its ability to hold its metaphorical head up for not selling the family farm to those evil strip mall developers!

Of course what they mean is getting back to the “good ol’ days,” of morality and common sense!  All the way to when they walked to school barefoot with their sisters on their back and churned their own butter and a man could be a man and a woman could cook dinner for that man.  Yes, this rally was essentially one big lecture from your kind of racist grandparents about how much the neighborhood has changed.

“We want to go back,” they say, “to before America took a wrong turn!” But no one can articulate what this wrong turn looks like, what, specifically, this “cancer” of “progressivism” has wrought.  Surely they don’t mean to return to the recession of G. Dubbs and the rise of reality television shows. Not the blow-joby Clinton days with Britney Spears dancing in a Catholic School girl outfit and PSAs about AIDS.  Maybe they long for the recession of Bush The First, or the moral fortitude of the corporate, cokey eighties, when greed was good and financial deregulation was booming but then busting.  Not the 70’s, after all that was Roe V. Wade, that was Watergate and the gas crisis and Women’s liberation. Perhaps the sixties?  Free Love?  The Cuban Missile Crisis?  Assassinations left and right?

I have a sneaky suspicion they mean the fifties.  And sure, it’s easy to idealize a time that’s been best preserved in black and white TV shows about perfect mothers and hard-working fathers and little boys who catch frogs.  And there was more modesty, more decorum.  People wrote “thank you” notes.  Pot roasts and stuff.  But let’s not forget that the fifties were only good for some people.  As a country we were still pretty much treating black people and women and anyone who wasn’t a straight, white, Christian male like shit.  While I’m not surprised that the kind of people who hate on ACORN and health care and listen to Dr. Laura conveniently misremember exactly how perfect this country was back then, those are not values we ought to be returning to.

P.S. Hey look at that delightful illustration!  The most wonderful Kate Elizabeth has agreed to draw me some drawrrings for my posts sometimes.  Check out her work and make her famous!

For Labor Day

Job Search, Things I Want, ,

I have been looking for a job.  For a long time. After 5 years of pretending to want to be an actress… or something… I have settled on what I really want to do; what I would be really good at doing.  It’s not crazy.  It’s not a one in a million shot.  It turns out I don’t have to move, or go back to school.  I am qualified and capable, not to mention charming, and there’s no reason I shouldn’t find this job.

But it’s been a very long time. I have sent out so many resumes and gotten no response.  The one opportunity that has seemed most promising has drawn out over months, and left me bouncing between fragile hope and the crushing feeling that I was stupid to think I could ever get it.

When I graduated and moved to Los Angeles I felt invincible.  Now I have a very hard time not feeling… broken.  I start to think, this could go on forever. I could apply and apply and almost get something for years.  I start to feel like I am the only adult I know who can’t find a job that will meet the lowest basic requirements for living independently. I start to feel like I will never find a job that doesn’t make me feel useless at the end of the week.

It’s exhausting.  It’s exhausting to write cover letter after cover letter.  It’s exhausting to give myself pep talks.  It’s exhausting to put my current, slightly too small paycheck in the bank and see the number looking back at me, knowing how quickly it will disappear.  It’s exhausting to feel guilty every time I have lunch with a friend or turn it down.  It’s infuriating to have to take babysitting jobs that are underpaid, for a woman who doesn’t believe in letting you say no to her terribly behaved children because money is money.

I know that, with our national unemployment rate, I am in good company.  I know that all over the country people are giving up on plan A and trying to find something, anything, to pay the bills.  I know how lucky I am to be employed at all; that the only other life I am responsible for supporting is Kitty Wampus.  And most of all, how lucky I am to have some one who supports me emotionally, if not financially, that I’ve got a cheerleader in this and someone to tell me I’m more than my paycheck, more than my occupation.

I spend a lot of time trying to avoid thinking about the situation and thus avoid an anxiety attack, but on this holiday dedicated to thinking about workers, I’m going to embrace it.  I’m going to spend the day thinking about how my employment status is not who I am, no matter how much it seems to be.  I’m going to appreciate that I am employable, even if it feels like I’m not.  I am going to think about all the people who are working at jobs they hate and who are accepting lesser positions.  I’m going to believe that I will find a job.  I’m going to believe that these unemployment numbers are going to go down. I’m going to drink a beer to the hardest job of all right now: finding a job.