An Argument for Civility
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.
That is the biggest fallacy we sell ourselves. We can tell ourselves names, judgment, derision doesn't hurt. We can say we are stronger than anything anyone can say to us. We can tell each other are walls are too high to be penetrated by ugliness. But when we are alone, in the dark, and the tears are coming, we know the truth. Words have a power far mightier than any weapon.
Words have incited riots. Words have caused panic. Mere words have brought great people to suicide. Words have turned people into killers. Words. Words said in anger, in ignorance, in judgment.
Words can be used for great things. We can't turn our back from communication. It is responsible usage of words that causes our society to achieve great things, to right terrible wrongs, to empower, and to cause change.
But we have come to a time in our country where unfettered and irresponsible use of words is leading to the downfall of what we have. Words are the poison spreading amongst us.
I am a victim of words. The things I have heard in my 38 years are hurtful, disgusting, and harmful. They have stuck with me and helped to define me. Although I try to escape and disempower them, they are deeply embedded. I know I am not winning that battle.
The past two years have been hell. I was coming to a point in my life where I was finally happy. I had survived back to back abusive bosses to land a job with a group of people I adored. They adored me. I had built a part-time business. I was working like a dog, but the work was going to pay off. I was digging my way out of school debt, saving for and planning for, the future.
The rug was pulled out in stages. First, my business collapsed. A dispute over my fees, which was ridiculous. I had low standards and would have reasonably negotiated anything in dispute. But, greed drove the opposition. The reality of the situation was, after four years of providing him with work, he found someone who could do half as well for half the price and that was good enough for him. He never even paid what he owed me.
We adjusted to the first rug pull. I had another contract, twice a year. It wasn't a sure thing - I had to apply twice a year - but I had enough seniority, I should get picked. Until I didn't. Second rug.
There was some shuffling of debt after that rug. We tried not to dip into savings. Pulled back on the reigns. Canceled a trip we were planning.
Few months later, the partners told me we were experiencing a work slowdown. They wanted me to go down to part-time. Temporarily they said. I believed them. Why wouldn't I? I had just earned a productivity bonus. The work had been coming out of our ears, and we were just about to get a new load of cases.
So, we shifted some more. I tried to negotiate lower payments with my credit holders. It was a temporary situation. I wanted to put it all in perspective. They wouldn't work with me. Not a single person I talked to was willing to lower my monthly payments by even a dollar. In fact, one company I talked to offered to close my account if I would make payments that were $200 more than the payments I was now struggling to make. My income, in five short months, had been cut by 40%.
I did take on some part-time work during the "temporary" down shift. I babysat. I cleaned people's houses. Anything people needed help with, I offered. It helped, a little.
I got used to less. I stopped updating my wardrobe, going to the gym, and took my kid out of preschool. We had just signed a new lease before all our troubles started so, unfortunately, we were stuck in our lease. I inquired about moving to a lower cost apartment in the complex or negotiating a lower rent. We were told it was entirely possible - if we paid two months' rent in penalty for the move. So, we could save $200 a month if we paid $4000 now.
I felt fortunate to have a job. Until I didn't. The last rug got pulled. A few days before the end of the month and right before school started. I got no severance. I got no warning. I got called into the bosses' office and told the firm was shutting down and that was my last day. My medical benefits would end at the end of the month. I was given my last paycheck. To my horror, I realized it was just enough to pay rent. No groceries, bills, or anything else (even laundry) could be paid out of that.
That weekend, I went into panic mode. I was absolutely freaked out. I sent my resume to about 200 places. I applied for unemployment. I paid rent. I canceled everything that wasn't necessary. No cable, no phone. Everything I didn't have to have was gone.
Unemployment took 8 weeks to arrive. The next month, I used savings for rent. The calls began from creditors. No calls came from the hundreds of resumes and leads I hopefully addressed every day. The creditor calls got more and more aggressive. They claimed to be outside my house looking for my car. One actually came to our door. I asked everyone for a job.
I took every job I could. I taught reading to my son's class and cleaned poop out of the mice's cage in the kindergarten class. I babysat. I drove kids home from school. None of it was enough, but it was something.
There wasn't a moment where my life got easier or more relaxing. The stress and anxiety were my constant companions. I recall randomly bursting into tears, angry tears, pretty much every time I was alone in my car. I didn't want to scare my kids, but I was barely holding it together. If I felt like they were safe and didn't need me to protect them, I am fairly certain I would have driven my car off a cliff. Because that's how my life felt - like I had fallen off a cliff.
Unemployment started coming, but just when I would get in a rhythm of paying my bills on time, the checks would be delayed. I'd owe late fees and then I'd be behind. By December, I was broke - my accounts were empty.
I applied for everything I had any ability to do. Many, I never heard from. Even in my own industry, i heard very discouraging advice. "Not much out there. You have a degree, no one will touch you." It was true. When I would get an interview, all anyone ever wanted to talk about was why a lawyer would want a non-legal job.
Despite all the hell I went through, I felt I could handle it all because I knew I was not alone and I knew I wasn't going through the worst. People had lost their homes. Desperation was a floor below me. I had an obligation to feel blessed that I had managed to stay with a roof over my head.
One day, I was reading in the newspaper about how people were not getting their unemployment and how people were falling through the cracks because of it. I had been in a delay pattern with unemployment and could not understand why more people were not talking about it. It seemed like every six checks, an unspecified error would be discovered and I would be required to resubmit information and call EDD. Only EDD did not return calls. They also did not answer their phones. So, seven weeks went by without money. We were desperate.
I emailed the writer of the article and thanked him for shedding light on the issues. Next thing I knew, I was being involved in an article, myself.
Little did I know that my story would bring out such hatred. Somehow, every way I lived my life was under scrutiny. Never mind that I had done everything in my power to keep my family going. I had taken any work offered to me. I was exhausted - and never stopped looking for work. I was one of 12% unemployed. How could I be viewed as so different from others?
The article brought every hateful comment I can think of out of the woodwork. I was lazy, a waste of space, a leech. I was stealing. A crook. A terrible parent. A good-for-nothing baby breeder sponging on society. Unworthy of even kindness.
People made these comments in anonymity. Behind computer screens and avatars. Without much more of a thought.
These are thoughts I was not strong enough to hear. They have damaged me. I am not a whole person anymore. I have lost my trust.
We say so many things without thinking of their impact. We don't imagine yelling at the slow lady crossing the street or commenting on the parenting skills of another will ever have an impact. We blow off our own emotions by speaking ill of others. We go on with our day done with that moment, not giving it a second thought.
Well, it does have an impact. It does last. It hurts, it stains.
I'm all for the power of words. I'm all for the freedom of words. But if you think names will never hurt, you're wrong. Names take on a life of their own and have so much more power once they are spoken.
Deep down, I know I am not what they called me. But some part of me thinks less of myself because of it all...
posted by Heather at 12:13 AM
|
0 comments
links to this post
