We are back in Canada and before I even filled up our fridge I checked out my favourite bookstore in Ottawa for a nice cup of latte, good conversations and great used books. Taking a break from studying, researching and course material, I am happy to…
The greek philosopher Heraclitus once said that “everything changes and nothing stands still” (my dad’s favourite). Besides Heraclitus’s quote, I don’t even know how many times I heard “summer is over” in the last couple of days. The summer in Germany was not as great…
I ate at a restaurant in the center of Porto/Portugal and skimmed through my book. It was the last day of the conference and my brain was stuffed with new but inspiring information. While I sipped my strong coffee after lunch I thought about one topic that keeps popping up in my mind: weird family matters that seem to go nowhere and I don’t understand why. At the same time, two men talked and discussed their previous Karate lesson and that their teacher reminded them about the importance to always strive to see beyond their immediate problems and obstacles and keep moving forward to clearer skies which is the main challenge.
I read an article about that it is good and healthy to argue. Further, it is normal to have fights and discrepancies within every family. Not everybody gets along well, nothing is perfect. I have had a couple of relationships in my life and I know that not all arguments are created equally. I also know that it is important to remember that an argument is somewhat a resolution to a conflict. Something happened and I did not agree. However, it is not a tactical outsmarting or some sort of out-talking of “the other” into submission. Emailing back and forth, accusations, he said she said, words getting turned and twisted around, talking in circles for hours or then agreeing to something I don’t even believe in just to keep the peace does not work for me.
However, it is even worse if and when your “opponents” tell you “everything is okay” and “nothing is wrong” after I asked if I did something wrong to upset them. All I get is a poorly, sad unfair silence treatment and I feel resentment or rather a mild form of irritation. Apparently our communication styles are incompatible and I have to understand this. I also know that I don’t have to love certain people just because they are family. This was important for me to discover since I thought family is sacred and always needs to stick together; especially if the family size is rather small. Every family member makes their own decisions and lives their own life. If there are things in common – great. If not – great. And if I feel treated badly, I will eventually distance myself from certain people since the relationship is for me unproductive, empty, cold and unhealthy.
The problem with it all is, that I don’t even know what I did wrong. I am attacked as a person instead of attacking and TALKING about the issue. I don’t understand why talking is so difficult for some. The response I receive conveniently distracts from the real subject at hand. Is it unfair? I guess it just is since there are no logical boundaries, it is all ridiculous and I feel like I am talking to my son’s friends at daycare. In the meantime these are adults (I thought) I am dealing with. Usually, if I did X and it was wrong I should be blamed for it. But I then cannot be automatically blamed for everything else. Also, I don’t even know what I did wrong in the first place or if I even did anything wrong. Well I guess this must be true since nobody talks to me anymore. Philosophical reasoning?
I know that I have to remain objective to describe what the other person did, no finger-pointing etc. but what can I do if the other party just does not talk to me at all anymore and just tells me and acts in front of other people as if everything is okay? Do I need this in my life? The simple answer is: No! I tried to reflect on my own behaviour several times to try to understand what particular action may have upset some people to this extend. I cannot come up with an answer. I know that I only have this one life and I don’t want and need to clutter it with this kind of madness. I reckon that a normal discourse is just not possible with certain people and that is that. Accusations or insults are not my thing since they are usually just a simple way out and result in becoming illogical and dumb. Making my own conclusions here I have to say that I simply move on as I always do. I move forward to clearer skies and I learn from all this while taking appropriate actions and decision. Life is a challenge.
I caught myself many times over- or underthinking emails I write. Sometimes I agonize over every single word: I put too much information or too little but for some reason it is always something. Especially when it comes to professional emails. Do I address an email I…
I overheard a conversation between two women the other day. One was at a bar with her coworkers the night before and they all got a little relaxed after some drinks that followed a rather exhausting business meeting. The woman said she felt good, she…
The Forensic Linguistic Conference in Porto was fantastic and I have been reminded again that the words we speak every day are so important indeed. Also, the proposal for my Masters project is due tomorrow. It seems I changed, rewrote, reviewed, added and edited this thing about a million times and I cannot wait to send it tomorrow to have it off my plate.
I had a recurring thought that popped up at the conference that I will address. There were some excellent presentations of projects, dissertations and research and it mattered so much how the words presenters used shaped their attitudes and perceptions. And mine. It made me realize that using big, fancy words can sometimes confuse more than explain, especially whenever the presenter did not know what they were even talking about. The review and comments some presenters received were hurtful, created pain, sadness but also joy and happiness. I can make the presenter feel good or bad. I can destroy him completely, too. Or like in the recent Michelle Carter case, make people kill themselves via text messages by encouraging suicide. All with one simple things. Words. Or is it rather the case that words alone cannot kill?
To get back to my initial thought from the conference: I am analyzing suicide notes for addressivity and am wondering if words can kill, which words can be used to save a person’s life? There is one particular suicide I tried to prevent when I was a police officer. I spoke for approximately two hours to a suicidal woman who stood on her balcony on the 9th floor of an apartment building. Two hours! I thought about grabbing her and pulling her back to change her mind and make her live but there was no way I could get close enough. After a while she looked at me and thanked me for “the nice talk” but she “has to do this now and I need to stop manipulating her by trying to change her plan”. And she jumped. My police chief told me to never look into the eyes of a person who commits suicide in front of me “because it is the eyes you will remember”. Also, to avoid looking at the person too closely after. Well, as a police officer, one really doesn’t have the option. I looked. And her eyes are still with me to this day re-appearing in my dreams here and there. I never dealt with this problem properly until a couple of months ago. Could I have used different words and saved her?
In my professional life I dealt with way too many suicides. I know that it is always a pressure on me as well as on the families and friends of the suicidal person. In the case of my “balcony woman” I said everything I could think of, offered help, understanding, advice, support and maybe even love. “Life is worth living,” I said. I remember the words clearly. She looked at me and cried. My words just weren’t enough. Would she still be alive if a different police officer would have dealt with her? Coulda, woulda, shoulda! I will never find out regardless.
She jumped from a balcony on the 9th floor. Not a beautiful picture as you can imagine and now the questions: “Who is responsible? Is nobody responsible but the person herself? Do words really matter that much after all? Can words kill or can’t they? Can I simply resist or act differently even though words create and influence certain situations? Would the situation have been different if the “balcony woman” would have realized that I did not try to manipulate her but just save her life?
I think that words alone do not have the power to kill. There is always more involved. It always makes me wonder what a person thinks just before they commit suicide. How hopeless, sad, angry, depressed or whatever else must they be to finally decide to take their own life? The “balcony woman” clearly did not see a different, new way. She decided that “it is time”. Later in a different police report I found out that her boyfriend left a couple of days before her suicide and sent her a goodbye-letter.
“I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.” – Edna St. Vincent Millay I have listened to so many amazing research topics in the…
I am in Portugal, alone, attending a conference and spending my birthday week in style. I have to add, that I miss Petit Joel like crazy (did I just type this for real) but I enjoy every second here in Porto. What an amazing, beautiful…
I tucked in my son for the night and realized again how quickly he changes. He goes in and out of the bed at night by himself to use the bathroom and is able to switch on the lights. But he could not do these things about a month ago. Kindergarten will start in September which is another huge, new chapter in his little life. He looks forward to it, without fear but rather excitement; I learn so much from him almost on a daily basis. My baby is not a baby anymore and grows up too quickly. Do I raise him in a good way? Am I a good mom? Can I raise him in a way to fight stereotypes later? The other day he told me what he wants to be when he grows up. He switches from pilot to doctor to astronaut (all fine with me, ha!) and I basically tell him he can do and be anything he wants to do and be.
If you followed my blog for a while you know that I love to listen to playground talk. I don’t really engage but I listen. [I always carry my moleskin notebook with me to get my thoughts on paper, especially stuff like this because it initiated this blog post]. So two mom’s spoke about how they hate it when their sons bring up any interests in let’s say “feminine things”. “This is not good for my son and he most certainly will not become a hairdresser or use makeup. He wants to use my makeup all the time. I think he is so weird because he wants to use my nail polish,” one mom says and I am inhaling and exhaling deeply. Don’t ever tell your son he is weird just because he wants to use your nail polish! Why not just raise my son to be a kind, a gentlemen and a confident person who is free enough to follow their dreams? Whatever they might be.
I want to share a couple of things that work for me in this never-ending struggle or battle to educate and raise my son. We mothers signed up for this challenge when we got pregnant and nobody warned us. [Even if someone would have told me how difficult it will be sometimes, I would not have believed it since I know and will make everything better and different, duh!] This is one approach how I educate and raise my son: I let him cry if he wants to. I never tell him that he should not cry because he is a boy, or “only girls cry” and BS like this. I don’t want to raise a robot. He has feelings. He can cry. I also want to be his role model and I see and feel how he observes me. Questioning things, asking, researching, he wants to know what is going on. I can see how a certain type of behavior like heavy smoking and drinking, domestic violence etc. within a family can really mess these little people up.
Further, I think another important point is to just let him be himself. I let him chose what color he wants and won’t buy blue toothbrushes for him just because. The last time we bought new ones he wanted a yellow glittery one. Cool! It just always amazes me when I buy clothes for him and there is this teeny tiny boy’s section in the story with colors like grey, blue, brown or black and then five floors of girl’s stuff; which is usually a plethora of clothing from the standard (annoying) princess dress to a Carrie Bradshaw outfit for five year-olds. I want my son to follow his interests, I don’t want to put too many limits, within reason. If he wants to play with dolls and his girlfriends at the daycare one day, cool!. Who says boys have to play with trucks, lego and clay only? I never want to reinforce gender stereotypes. For some reason I also think that whenever he plays with girls he communicates differently. Different in a problem-solving kind of way. I encourage friendships with girls. [Must be a women-thing, I reckon]. Also, I think it is important to never use the word “girl” as an insult. [Or use “grab them by the pussy”]
I also teach him to take care of himself and others. He has certain little chores that need to be done. We clean together, do laundry, wash dishes, cook, go shopping. My son observes that there is a certain type of routine which is not a bad thing. The house can look like a mess when he plays but he cleans up when it is time to go to bed. We have a lot of elderly people in our neighborhood and my son observes how I talk to them and help them occasionally. He loves to take care of the neighbors cat when they were on vacation because I taught him. And now that he is “older” we can work together and he can help me with little tasks. I show him how I fold the laundry and he tries to fold his. So cute.
I was not too good at teaching him that “no means no” in the beginning but I learned along the way and he respect me. This is the key I reckon. He knows the power of the word “no” and he mostly complies. One last point I want to add is reading. I love reading and so does he. I read to him almost every night and most certainly not only “boy-books” but also German “princess stories” like Rapunzel, and Snow White. I don’t want him to think that women need to be saved either. Being a mother and raising a child is not f*****easy. Far from it.
Another hot day in Barcelona sightseeing. Wanderlust. No clue about fashion but my Lois Vuitton is usually next to me while traveling. After a long conversation with a very good friend of mine on fashion and why fashion blogs are so popular I had a…
