Month: June 2017

Have you ever felt powerless? We are so small, and we live for such a short period of time. The world’s problems are so big. What can we do, really? And if we can’t do anything, why bother?

Recently I was talking with my daughter about a mistake I had made with noticeable consequences. When I was in my high school’s marching band, I was one of two bell players. That year our percussion solo was “The Peanut Vendor.” During one performance — I believe it was for a judged competition — I came in early. One bell player playing at the wrong time. How bad can that be? How about bad enough to really throw things off? When your instrument is easy to hear, bad timing can be a big deal. I still cringe when I remember it.

That brought to mind another mistake with even bigger consequences. A friend and I once managed to evacuate an entire college residence hall. In Minnesota. In January. We had a craving for fried plantain, so we purchased one from a grocery store, sliced it up, and started deep frying it in oil in our dorm’s kitchen. We were so busy talking and laughing that we weren’t keeping a good eye on the hot oil. It started to smoke, which set off the fire alarms. Nothing was actually on fire, so we weren’t sure what to do. In the end, we decided to turn off the heat and leave the dorm with everyone else. People were standing outside in the cold without coats, asking each other what had happened. Apparently someone overheard the firemen say “someone was frying a banana.” Close enough.

Of course, both of these examples are negative: One musician throwing off a band performance. Two college students causing a dorm to be evacuated. But if I can manage to cause that sort of chaos by accident, what sort of good could I really accomplish if I set my mind to it?

You’ve probably heard the saying “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” It’s another negative example, but it’s a good one. There’s nothing like the high-pitched whine of a mosquito at night to cause sleeplessness. Small things really can make themselves felt.

Sometimes we read about people who start social enterprises or raise a lot of money for a charity or advocate successfully for social reforms. It’s easy to think that those are special people. We’re not like them.

But when I think about my “disaster” stories, I wonder… Am I failing to realize how powerful one person, even me, can really be? Maybe, just maybe, each and every one of us is more powerful than we think. Let’s own our power and figure out how we can use it for good.

If you actively support your local animal shelter, you may know that it is now “kitten season.” Because many people don’t spay or neuter their cats, shelters are flooded with unwanted kittens throughout the summer. Unfortunately, shelters often lack the resources to support all of the cats they receive, so many are euthanized.

There are several ways you can take action during the summer to improve the lives of homeless cats and kittens.

Spay or neuter your cats

First, and most important, if you are a cat owner, please spay or neuter your kittens as soon as possible after they turn eight weeks old. I know more than one good cat owner who had a kitten that got pregnant at a very young age, before the owner was able to get her spayed. If you’re having trouble paying for the operation, you may be able to find a low-cost spay/neuter program near you.

If you have feral cats in your area, consider promoting a trap-neuter-return program to reduce the population of feral cats and kittens.

Adopt cats

If you are able to take in one or more new pets, you can do a great deal of good by adopting one or even two cats — preferably adults. When people choose a cat at an animal shelter, they frequently choose a kitten over an adult. If you can adopt one or two adult cats, you may save them from being euthanized. Cats sometimes come to the shelter with a “buddy” from their previous home; it’s wonderful if you can keep these cats together. And your shelter may offer a deal on a multi-cat adoption, such as an “adopt one cat, get one free” special.

Provide foster care

Sometimes cats and kittens need foster care. The shelter may lack the space for all of the cats that are brought in during kitten season, or they may lack the resources to care for cats and kittens with special needs. If you want to provide a temporary home to one or more cats, contact your local animal shelter and ask them about how you might provide foster care.

Make a donation

Animal shelters need your support. Our local humane society is supported solely through donations. If people don’t give, they can’t provide for all of the animals that are brought in. In addition to donating money, you may be able to donate supplies to your shelter; check their website or call them to see if they need anything you can give. Your shelter may also need volunteer support, particularly if you are willing to make a long-term commitment.

In addition to donating to your shelter, you may want to consider donating to a spay/neuter program in your area.

I’d love to see a world where kitten season was not a problem. Until that day comes, let’s do what we can to reduce the number of cats that are euthanized.

Humor is a difficult subject. People have strong, often strongly expressed, opinions about it. Think of things we say to each other: “That’s not funny!” and “Oh, lighten up!”

I initially worked on this post soon after the fallout over the photo of Kathy Griffin holding what looked like Trump’s severed head. I felt like I was coming across as too preachy, so I set it aside for last week’s post, but I knew I wanted to come back to it.

I understand that certain things — humor, art, the prophetic voice — can be deeply disturbing. I also believe that no one — not even the President — is above being criticized or poked fun at. But humor is a tricky thing. We shouldn’t just shrug off negative responses, telling ourselves that some people don’t get it. Sometimes the problem is that we think we’re being funny when we’re merely being offensive. I believe that Griffin’s photo fell in that category; there’s nothing funny about an implied threat. (I also don’t believe the threats against her were appropriate. As I polish this on the same day as the shooting in Alexandria, Virginia, I am troubled by the way so many people seem to resort to threats of violence or actual violence to settle differences.)

My first class toward my master’s degree was a video production course. I remember our instructor saying that all humor is cruel. I disagree with that, but I appreciate how he carried the idea to its logical conclusion: Humor should always be directed at yourself or at someone of a higher standing, not at people below your level. Some mock class award ceremonies at the end of May proved my instructor’s point. If you missed the news, teachers at a couple of different schools gave out awards such as “most likely to become a terrorist,” “most likely to become homeless,” and “most likely not to pay attention” (to a child with ADHD). Poking fun at the children they taught wasn’t funny; it was hurtful.

I think the best way to approach humor is to think about our motives. Humor that tears down can really be cruelty in disguise, particularly when it involves tearing someone down over a characteristic over which they have little to no control (say, their appearance vs. their behavior). If we want to make a difference in the world, I don’t think we need to become humorless; we simply need to combine our sense of humor with a spirit of love.

As I sat in the stands at my daughter’s commencement ceremony, I saw her looking for us. I waved, but she kept looking. (“It’s hard to see your mom wave when everyone’s mom is waving,” she told me later.) She did finally spot us, but before she did, I thought she seemed a little worried. It turned out that I was right. Our family came in two separate cars, and for a while, she wondered if everyone had managed to make it on time.

I remember how much it mattered to me at that age when people showed up. I scanned the audience at school concerts. Were the people who mattered to me there? Even when I was a prickly and semi-independent teen, I wanted my family to be there for me.

When I was in first grade, we had a class concert for our parents. At the end, there was a big “surprise” as we unveiled a drawing that tied in with the theme to the concert. It really wasn’t a big deal in the scheme of things, but it was a big deal to me. My dad was working, but I was counting on my mom to come. Unfortunately, I gave her the wrong time, so she missed the concert. It wasn’t her fault, and I knew that. Still, I was heartbroken. I could sing the songs for her myself, I could point out the piece of art on the classroom wall, but it wasn’t the same. Decades later, I still remember standing with the other kids as we performed and wondering where my mom was.

Truthfully, it still matters for me when people I love are there for me.

Most of us will miss the occasional concert or game or special event. But when we make the time to be there for a loved one, it really matters. When they scan the crowd, let’s be there for them to find.

When my daughter was a toddler, we were flying home from a visit with some relatives and had a layover in Dallas-Fort Worth. We had plenty of time to get to our gate, until everything went wrong. Our stroller, which had been gate-checked, was sent to the baggage claim. Things kept going downhill from there. During our stroller-induced trials and tribulations, our flight was moved to another terminal. A gate agent unhelpfully told me, “You’re going to miss your flight.”

As I rushed to the other terminal, I began to cry. Most people passed by without noticing or, if they did notice, they just kept walking. I don’t blame them. I’m sure many of them were in a hurry to get where they needed to go, and others probably felt that what was going on in my life was none of their business. But one woman asked me what was wrong and walked briskly alongside me as I told her. She couldn’t fix my situation, but the fact that she cared was comfort enough… and in the end, the flight was delayed, so we made it.

All around us there are people who just want to know that someone cares about what they’re going through. Most of us are probably pretty good at offering support to our closest friends and family members, but we may not bother to reach out to other people — strangers, coworkers, neighbors, people we just see from time to time. We have busy lives and may assume that surely someone is reaching out to them, someone who is closer to them than us. Sometimes we’re afraid to reach out. We feel that another person’s situation is none of our business, or we’re afraid that by bringing up a painful situation, we’ll just hurt the suffering person more.

Let’s assume instead that by reaching out, we can really make a difference in that person’s life.

What’s the worst that can happen? Maybe a person will tell us that what they are going through is none of our business. Maybe they’ll start to cry (and maybe those tears will be good for them). Maybe several people have already asked after them, and they’re ready to move on. Maybe they’ll be so grateful that someone cares that they’ll talk our ears off, forcing us either to be gently assertive in order to end the conversation or to deal with more than we’d bargained for. Some of these things are unpleasant, but none are horrible.

But… what if no one has bothered to reach out to them? What if they are yearning to know that someone cares?

One of the kindest things we can do for another person is to get over our hangups and reach out to them. More often than not, we’ll find that it’s not too much trouble and that the person we are coming alongside appreciates our efforts. We may not be able to do this for everyone around us, but if we start to make a habit of looking out for ways we can reach out to others, we’ll touch a lot of lives.