Fat shaming, medical blaming and being "right"

Those who haven’t seen me in a while are often pleasantly surprised these days when they do see me. I’ve lost a lot of unnecessary weight, have more physical energy and am much more clear headed than I was for years. This comes of beating diabetes.

I sort of feel gratified when people remark in my change of health and appearance, but I secretly also feel frustrated. For every person who expresses this happiness for me, there are three people somewhere judging a fat person. Maybe they are even some of the same people.

Even technology seems to avoid overweight people in images. My camera app on Apple devices will show all the matching pictures of everyone thin I know, but displays only the sign “updating” for hours when asked to match pictures of fat people, including me. I tried to find other images to go along with this article on Flickr and similar sites, but fat people, especially fat people looking normal and content, are strangely absent from the internet, despite being all around me in real life.

Now, I’m one of those lucky souls inhabiting a body with a brain that does structure, routine and healthy habits without too much pain and suffering. I sleep seven and a half hours, get up at 6 am, meditate, exercise, cook and eat healthy food, and all that. I’ve done it even while insanely busy with work and my kids’ medical demands, though that entailed a lot of stress. So, you might think I’d be one of those people self-righteously saying, “health is connected to healthy habits,” and therefore fat people deserve to be shamed.

But here’s the catch.

I was fat. And I had healthy habits—or at least I kept the habits I was told were healthy by the medical establishment. I exercised. I ate a “Mediterranean diet” with lots of organic veggies, legumes and whole grains. I never ate fast food and rarely ate packaged food. I hadn't had soda since I was a teenager. I thought positively, I grew my own vegetables, for crying out loud.

But in fact, I can name a dozen middle-aged, fat women I know personally who also have that sort of healthy lifestyle. In case no one has let you in on the secret, life and body shape aren’t fair.

People definitely didn’t immediately assume I was living like that when they looked at my body shape. The overriding assumption in society is that people who have a lot of extra weight are slacking off somewhere, either not exercising or eating too much or eating the wrong things

When I hear people comment on other fat people, I don’t have to speculate much on what the underlying assumptions are, because I shared them up until recently. I never went around openly blaming people for being fat, but I figured focus, effort and good habits played a large role. And by de fault that seemed to mean that those who were fat lacked good habits and self-discipline.

But they often have them in spades.

OK, let’s be clear. Not every fat person does. Many people are not focused, don’t put out daily effort and don’t have healthy habits. There are plenty of people who eat mainly fast food and junk food and that does contribute to weight and poor health.

But there are also fat people who are disciplined and focused. Some are healthy the way they are. Some aren’t.

I wasn’t. But that was because I had a chronic illness that made it so that my body could not process most of the food I was eating—specifically the parts that were various forms of carbohydrates (i.e. sugar). When you can’t process sugar well, your body starts cranking out a ton of insulin (unless you have type 1 diabetes). And tons of insulin makes you fat, even if you eat relatively little and get your exercise.

This is not the reason every fat person is fat. But it was apparently my reason. I was allergic to most of my food. I fixed that, got rid of the food that was causing excessive inflammation and massive insulin production, and that worked… for me.

I wish everyone could find a magic key to their health like that. OK, it isn’t nearly as simple as taking a supplement pill. A large part of my life now revolves around making sure I can always eat food that my body can process well, and in the modern world—so heavy on carbohydrates—that means cooking almost everything myself.

It is both hugely time consuming and very expensive, because mostly what I can eat is fresh meat and vegetables. I have to carry an electric cooler almost everywhere I go. Even a day trip is now an expedition, because I can’t just run across a place to eat or pack a few granola bars.

But still, I was relatively lucky in this. In my case, there is a solution. My last A1C was 5.0. I’m officially in the healthy range.

But I wouldn’t be if I ate so much as a whole grain bread roll or a bowl of beans. My blood sugar would shoot up and I’d feel sick for a few days. I know because I’ve accidentally eaten things I shouldn’t before I realized how exacting my body’s requirements now are.

That means I wouldn’t be in this healthy range if I’d followed the advice of the medical nutritionist my doctor sent me to. She advised me to stick to my Mediterranean diet to “make sure the disease progresses slowly.” The disease, which is considered incurable and eventually fatal, is not progressing slowly. It isn’t progressing at all, because I researched instead of just taking what I was told at face value and accepting that I was going to die slowly.

That’s how I found out about ketogenic, very low-carb diets. I’ve been following a modified diabetic version for a year and a half—with all the recommendations for balancing electrolytes and digestive health.

I wish every ailment had a hidden cure like that. But this doesn’t even work for every type of diabetes, at least not this well.

Even so, it is far from an easy fix. It can reverse all the nasty effects of diabetes, including eliminating neuropathy and improving the immune system. But it is an entire lifestyle change and for most people with type 2 diabetes it has to be permanent.

It is also a lot easier for those type 2 diabetics who were already eating a diet with lots of salads, home cooked meals and plain water. I’ve seen how much people who were addicted to junk food or even just people who never learned to cook for themselves struggle to make the switch. The battle is real.

And then again, there are many people whose health difficulties are different. Different types of diabetes may not respond the same way. There are many other reasons why people become overweight, despite healthy habits.

What I take from this is that we have to take a good hard look at the assumptions we make about others based on their health. Just as we don’t immediately assume every person with lung cancer must have been a long-time smoker, one really cannot know what causes the health problems we see in others are, even if they seem to be preventable.

There may even be a solution—such as my ketogenic diet—which the person doesn’t yet know about. It is often hard for me not to excessively “sing the gospel” about this whenever I meet people with the classic T2 body shape and warning signs. I do let people know I have the condition and that I have found a solution, but force myself not to push too hard. It doesn’t work for everyone for a variety of reasons, and really if it isn’t my body, I’m not entitled to a strong opinion.

I’ve seen many sides of this issue in the last several years. Having adopted kids with a serious neurodevelopment disorder that is entirely preventable and caused by prenatal exposure to alcohol, I often run up agains the question of whether or not to assertively point out that they are adopted whenever I encounter a new health care provider. Sure, that’s actually crucial medical information and they’ll get the memo eventually, but the fact is that if I don’t tell them right off and they see the diagnosis first, they are going to go through a period of making certain very negative assumptions.

And beyond even the level of physical health, my kids’ disability carries with it lack of impulse control, inability to grasp time and organization and difficulties in understanding cause and effect. They will struggle all their lives not only with the real consequences of those things but also with people’s assumptions about their motives. And by extension, I labor under the judgements of others about my “parenting” and why my kids “act like that.”

From being a person who thought I was right a good deal of the time, who thought fat people must be a bit lax and that punctuality, motivation and calm are all within an individual’s control, I have come to question just about everything I thought I knew for sure. I could wish I didn’t have to beat diabetes and parent kids with such tough disabilities in order to become less certain, but I don’t know if anyone could have explained it to me sufficiently without the school of hard knocks to hammer it home.

What do you think? Does hearing about the experiences of others regarding how wrong one’s assumptions can be about another person’s health and behavior second-hand make a difference?

Open letter to Trever Noah about the word "spaz."

Dear Trevor Noah,

I’m sure I’m probably not alone in telling you that your show is a balm for me, a respite from a despairing world and a healing draught of laughter in the face of things that hurt too much.

I’ve got two kids who I adopted from traumatizing orphanages in the Czech Republic. They were kids the authorities told me “no one would adopt” because they are from a despised, non-white ethnic group—the Roma.

We spent the first ten years of their lives living there in the Czech Republic. 2008, the year before my daughter was born, was the first year when Romani children were allowed to go to standard Czech schools. By the time she went to first grade, I didn’t need a lawyer or a police escort to get her into school, but it was nip and tuck there for a while.

My son’s preschool attempted to expel him when he developed a minor allergic skin rash, because he was non-white and their assumption was that he was diseased and contagious. They would have succeeded too, if his pediatrician hadn’t been progressive and feisty. That was in 2015.

I tell you this, because you need to know that I’ve seen a few things. I’m a white American, but I’m not exactly your typical white American. I’ve had “the talk” with my kids, ages eleven and thirteen, about police and brown people. I learned how to do it by reading Black authors, listening to you and talking to my Nigerian friend in Prague, who was distressed when I said we were moving back to the US to escape the rampant racism and the beatings my son was enduring at school.

“You’re going THERE to escape racism?”

I grew up in the US—in a particularly backward and monotone part of it, in fact. I have few illusions about things here. I told her that she was absolutely right. That we probably wouldn’t be going, if my children were Black. But they aren’t Black. They’re Romani, and the realities on the ground are such, that it’s safer here for them than there. She agreed that that was the best a parent could do.

Image of a dark-haired man drawing a picture of a female figurine with his toes.

Before I had kids, I lived and travelled in more than 35 countries, including several months in Zimbabwe near your homeland. I spent ten years working as a journalist, primarily exposing the quiet but lethal racism against Roma in Central and Eastern Europe. That’s my history, which I think may give you some perspective on what I need to say to you.

I am also pretty anti-celebrity. I’ve never really cared about a celebrity who was alive before, since the last one I liked at all was Bob Marley and I was five when he died. I know famous people have the same feelings and foibles the rest of us do. And so, it isn’t so much that you fell as a giant for me when you dismissed the concerns of people with disabilities. It is that I felt like I was betrayed by a friend.

That’s silly, I know. You don’t know me, but I don’t watch any TV, except for you. I listen to audio books or listen to international news. I watch Netflix on a tablet occasionally. But TV? Nope, except you when I exercise every morning, there’s nothing on there I care to see. And as I said, your ability to laugh in the face of the worst depredations of our world is really and truly medicine.

And I know that it is always only a matter of time before anyone, even the best friend, has a different opinion. That’s not the point. I have disagreed with you several times. No sweat. I don’t even entirely remember what the fine points were. This is different, because it strikes at the core of who you are. It is something that betrays all the work of bridging divides and empowering the disempowered and fostering empathy that you’ve done.

Yup, it’s about Lizzo. Now, I don’t know LIzzo very well. My daughter listens to her. I think I recall her listening to a song with the word “spaz” in it at one point. I noticed and mentioned it to her, explained that it’s a derogatory word that we don’t use in our house, because it is used as an insult against people with disabilities. We had the whole discussion about how it means something quite different in this music. I didn’t know for sure but guessed, even at that point, that its meaning might be significantly different in African American culture than it is for most of the country.

I wasn’t that mad. I didn’t forbid my daughter to listen to that music. It’s far from the only “bad word” I don’t want my kids repeating at school that they encounter in popular music. And no, just talking to my daughter about it, didn’t fix it. My daughter is developmentally disabled, essentially due to the horrific conditions Romani children endure in the Czech Republic. She has talents but she was injured by that system and part of that injury is neurological damage that interferes with her ability to understand abstract concepts, remember conversations or connect cause and effect.

So, I talk about these things with her, but she may well repeat the word “spaz” anyway. She’ll certainly hear it used as an insult against disabled children at school, maybe even against herself, though she works very hard to blend in and pass for average.

And that’s the thing, Trevor. I’m not mad at Lizzo. What she did was something that happens. Yes, I understand the argument that she was a bit dismissive about apologizing and changing the song with “spaz” in the lyrics, but as you said, she changed it. That is such a big step in the right direction, it’s worth recognizing.

People with disabilities have largely been left out of the “woke” wave to shield under-privileged groups from microaggressions. So many people would have completely ignored criticism over “spaz” or any other word insulting people with disabilities. You sound like you would have. Lizzo didn’t ignore us, and I’m not too picky beyond that.

If I was someone close enough to her to have a conversation, I might have said, “Please, stop on that a moment. Take a moment to empathize. It isn’t just about avoiding being publicly criticized. It really does hurt people, just like some words would hurt you.” But that’’s it. The basic thing was, she did what was needed. She apologized and changed the song.

Here are two other bits about my background, Trevor. I am a linguist by education, so when I say I’m looking at this not just from experience but also from a language development standpoint, there’s that. I am also blind—that is legally blind. I see about 5 percent of what you do. It’s not noting but it’s pretty minimal. I’ve been that way since I was born. Yup, I’m the same person who worked as an international journalist and hung out in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe as a lone white girl. I was also blind while I did that.

Here are some facts, you need to know about the word “spaz.”

1. I was called “spaz” as an insult every day for over a decade as a child, in the United States. It isn’t only a derogatory term in the UK and Australia, as you insisted repeatedly on television. It was and still is used as a vulgar insult in this country. You claimed it isn’t and was never used that way in the US. That was factually wrong and I hope you’ll retract it publicly.

2. I have noticed the linguistic migration of the word “spaz'“ over the past couple of decades. As I’m sure you’ve read, it started as “spastic,” relating to a type of muscle convulsion or cramp suffered by people with some disabilities, but it has been used to insult all people with disabilities, including blind people.

3. When Donald Trump made that motion with his arm at the reporter who was disabled, that was the motion that usually accompanies the word “spaz.” That gesture also refers to a “spastic” muscle contraction. People with spastic disabilities sometimes move their arms that way involuntarily. Donald Trump is obviously in the United States—not the UK or Australia. And that was not very long ago. Donald, as you’ve pointed out, doesn’t have a great memory and wouldn’t have remembered if this word was only used as an insult decades earlier or in another country. The fact that he used it is pretty good proof that it is a conventional American insult.

4. About fifteen years ago, I first heard people start to refer to “spaz” as just meaning “crazy” and overly emotional. It had migrated from just disabilities, to mental illness, and like the word “crazy” to behavior that is considered a bit too much. It then migrated further in some communities to mean something less negative as acceptance of “wild” behavior became more widespread.

5. But it is still used as an insult, NOT just in other countries. Here and now. And despite having a migrated and coopted meaning, I am sure you are aware that many other insulting epithets have undergone similar linguistic migration and we don’t excuse them. It is hard to imagine that with your American staff you weren't;t told the truth. There’s a word for knowingly obfuscating the truth and insisting that our lived experience is not real—gaslighting.

6. As an example, please try asking Siri (or Google) the definition of the word “Jip.” I believe you’re well-educated enough to know the connotations of that word and would never use it. But Siri says the origins of that word are “unknown.” While even Siri—and certainly a dictionary—would have told Lizzo the connotations of “spaz” had she checked, an uneducated person could not be blamed too much for using the word “Jip,” since looking it up isn’t very helpful. Yet that word is abhorrent and rightly shunned in woke circles. It is a racial epithet aimed directly at my children. But it’s used here in rural Oregon. I used it as a kid, until I learned better. Gip = Gyp = Gypsy = stereotypes about Roma being thieves. Words migrate linguistically, but that does not mean we give them a pass when they are still currently used as insults and derogatory epithets.

Here are some things, I am betting are true about you, Trevor:

1. I cannot imagine that under any other circumstances, you would deem it acceptable to use a word that is still used as an insult against a vulnerable group, if that group was a race, ethnic group, culture or LGBT+ group.

2. I feel very sure you have been told by people with disabilities whether in online comments or hopefully in person, that “spaz” is still used as an insult, including in the US. I wonder if you were told that before you went on the air dismissing us as people with valid concerns or only after.

3. I feel pretty confident that I’ve heard you say that it should be up to the given vulnerable group to say when a derogatory term used against them is “fair game” again. But you aren’t giving people with disabilities that agency.

4. You decided to state on your show and at great length with repetition, that Lizzo never did anything wrong. You criticized and condemned those members of the disability community who asked for an apology and a change to Lizzo’s song. That using the word “spaz” was legitimate in her circumstances because you believe “spaz” is only derogatory in the UK and Australia.

5. You have a diverse crew. I guarantee some of your staff know very well that that your statement is blatantly untrue. Either they told you that and you ignored them, or they are so afraid of crossing you, that you have got much worse problems than marginalizing people with disabilities.

Trevor, here’s the thing. Lizzo goofed. But it was understandable. We don’t check every word we use for its connotations in the next neighborhood over. It’s possible that in her subculture, “spaz” really hasn’t been used as an insult in her generation. She was told, and she fixed it.

Some people apparently weren’t happy with her quick and unreflective turnaround, feeling that she was only doing it to avoid criticism. That’s what I saw you get upset about. I’ve noticed that you often seem to feel protective toward the African American community. Nobody’s perfect and every time the Black community in the US makes a mistake, they get just as little leeway as a Black teenage male committing the usual sins that white teenagers regularly get away with. I get it.

But you went a step further and a step too far. You insisted at length that the facts are not the facts. You gaslighted us, telling us that what we know is reality isn’t reality. And you did it because the group you were dismissing is the one group you have never included in your work of bridging divides. I wonder if it is only that you have little experience with people with disabilities.

I have always loved your work because of all the good things in it. I have vaguely noticed that you never include anything about people with disabilities, but I didn’t realize, until now that this is a real blind spot for you. (No, that’s not a problematic term for me. It isn’t used as an derogatory term against blind people.)

Frankly, it isn’t just you. The woke movement is often dismissive of one particular group they should naturally be allied with, and that is people with disabilities. Sometimes we’re included as an afterthought but often we’re left out entirely, as we’ve been left out of your work in bridging divides and making healing out of humor.

Maybe for you that’s partly because people shy away from making fun of anything to do with disabilities. I guarantee I could introduce you to some people who can get you rolling on the ground laughing about disability issues. We are sometimes a bit too much, but I’m sure some of our self-styled “gimp humor” could be made accessible to the rest of the world.

Trevor, you said people often get mad at a celebrity who does something that hurts them and that’s it. They’re done. That’s cancel culture. That’s not my way. I mean, maybe if I heard someone I respected and admired had bragged about grabbing women by the pussy. I guess, I’d probably actually boycott them immediately. But this isn’t like that.

I notoriously can’t hold a grudge. But I haven’t been able to watch your show for the past month. I thought I’d just get over it, but it hurts. When I see you going on without any concern for the hurt this caused and when I saw that it is virtually impossible to send you a letter you will actually get, I can’t listen to your voice without hearing that jeering, derogatory insult against me and my kids.

But I don’t want to give up on you. You’re one of the best we have and I think you can see past this prejudice and accept people with disabilities as part of the communities. you fight for. I’m hoping that enough people will tell you that your dismissal and gaslighting of us hurt and that you’ll listen. Because while I know you’re human, so you can have prejudices and blind spots like the rest of us, I think you—like me—have seen a lot in your life. And that kind of experience gives us the ability to stretch and grow past those prejudices.

So, I still hope that some day I’ll see you retract the untruths about the word “spaz” and affirm that people with disabilities are valid, that insults against us are not okay, that musicians can and should be aware of that in their language, and that Lizzo did the right thing after being justifiably criticized.

But because I do believe in your talent for healing divides, I also hope against hope that you’ll be one of the first to break through the lockout of people with disabilities from the woke movement. I think you’ve got it in you, and when you can laugh at the social systems that cause the vast majority of difficulty that people with disabilities face (the actual physical or neurological problems are minor by comparison), you’ll discover a whole new area of healing humor.

Your voice is strong right now, very strong across this country and especially in progressive communities. I believe that if you are introspective and real and honest enough to look back at that thing with LIzzo and admit you were wrong and that your words hurt people, it would matter a great deal. It could be the moment that turns the tide and makes the woke movement fully inclusive.

Undercover in the red zone

It is so hot that the only time to walk or exercise is very early in the morning, and in fact, the garage where I keep my elliptical is still overheated even then. So, the other day I opted for a walk around the neighborhood of grid streets. And within a few blocks, I felt like an undercover operative in a strange dystopian country.

The area where I live in Northeastern Oregon is in a kind of limbo when it comes to politics. The local area is solidly in the red. Seventy-five percent voted for Trump the first time, and I think that even slightly increased the second time around.

And yet it’s Oregon. So, it’s easy to forget. We get all the bennies of living in a blue state—legal marijuana, extra health care, housing assistance for homeless families, trans-inclusive norms for public employees, etc. As a result, there is an increasingly vocal faction among the majority conservatives who want to break away from Oregon and join Idaho.

Creative Commons image by Juli of Flickr.com

And even living in a red county, the people I hang out with are mostly fairly moderate. The local farmer’s market required masks, even outdoors, all last year, and literary events put on by the local state university are brashly woke. But walking around a low-income neighborhood feels like going to another country, except it is one with A LOT of American flags.

There are also a lot of suped-up trucks with unreasonably tall tires, rusty vans and wrecks without wheels of any height outside many houses. By 6:30 am there were two different houses on two different blocks broadcasting far right talk radio from big speakers, so that the entire street was literally forced to listen.

“So, we are supposed to believe… supposed to believe… that these rapists and murders crossing the border… rapists and murders… they’re really apparently just innocent people who accidentally got lost on the way to the border checkpoint. That’s what we’re supposed to believe. The libtards are chuckling into their cigars, expecting we’ll just swallow that.” One of them blares with an odd, repetitive cadence over the sleepy sun-drenched eves and gardens, vaguely reminiscent of a fired up preacher.

The other was more on topic for a preacher and no less hateful. “If they want to, if a woman wants to, and I’m telling you I have good reason to know this. If they want they can keep from getting pregnant. But they don’t want that, do they? They want these abortions, because they’re being paid, paid to get pregnant, by those… those… I can’t call them humans… that wouldn’t really be correct… those women are paid by them for the bodies…”

That one makes me quicken my steps. I shudder. The hate for women dripping from the second voice, even more strident than the first, makes me grateful for my mostly quiet meth-using nearer neighbors. But my route brings me back in range of the first loudspeaker.

“We will defend our borders! That’s a fact! Those who say we shouldn’t. Well, you know what they are! Do I need to say the words? I don’t think so. But you know it. You know our second amendment rights are the only thing holding back the caravans and keeping a rein on those who hate our country from within…”

I don’t know what stations or podcasts these come from, but I grew up here and I do know about rural “conservatives.” I can even hold down a conversation and get along fairly well with most of them—by selectively not hearing certain things. But those snippets of talk radio were so far beyond what I grew up with, I know they would have been unintelligible to me a few months ago.

But I’ve been undercover, so I get most of the references.

You see, a year ago, when I first came back to the US from living in the Czech Republic for more than half my life, I got a new phone number from Verizon. And I had the misfortune to get a number that had recently been abandoned by someone else, someone who was not a particularly good citizen. For the first few months, I had debt collectors and school offices calling me, alleging that I owed money and was being investigated for neglect. After some hemming and hawing I managed to get them to accept that I am not who they think I am.

My mysterious alter-ego may have lived in Oregon once, which would be how she got an Oregon area code. But she moved to Arizona. And there, she commenced to run up debts and flake on doctor’s appointments—from what I’ve gathered. She also didn’t talk to some of her in-laws for at least a year, since they contracted me recently and were astounded that this was no longer her phone number.

Worse than that, she had signed up for a bunch political mass texts—all Republican. As soon as the election season started to heat up in Arizona, I started getting texts—first one a day, then two, then several every day. From groups claiming to support candidates for state or US senate seats or for governor and from supposed public opinion pollsters.

I got calls too, mainly from those wanting to ask questions about things like, “What would make you angrier, teachers mentioning same sex relationships in school or public officials memorializing what they say is racial injustice in our country’s past?”

At first, I just deleted and blocked the texts. But they were undeterred. It seems that even when communicating with those who signed up for their propaganda, Republican campaigns know it is better to regularly switch numbers to make sure they can keep hammering, in case someone decides they don’t want their messages anymore.

Finally, I started reading some of them—in a vain attempt to figure out how to unsubscribe and slow the flood.

Kari Lake, who secured the Republican nomination for Arizona governor on Aug 2, promised to “keep human sexuality out of our schools” and repeated claims that Trump won the 2020 election.

Abe Hamadeh’s campaign sent me a picture of him grinning while standing slightly behind and below Donald Trump. He promised that he would “secure the border and the elections” as attorney general of Arizona before winning the primary by a wide margin.

Someone named Mary, who claimed to be a Republican volunteer, sent me messages about Rep. Joel John and how much the NRA loves him. He lost the Republican primary Aug. 2. The NRA’s endorsement apparently wasn’t enough.

The thing that struck me about the texts wasn’t that they were for Republicans or had conservative politics. By and large, the messages looked like they were coming out of late night comedy mocking caricatures of uneducated Republicans. They all claim to be the most “loyal to our President Trump.” All mentioned something about the border wall and some explicitly stated that they want to “keep foreigners out of our state.” Several mentioned putting women “back in the kitchen to improve family life.”

A year ago, if you had told me that Republicans really consciously hold these kinds of racist, sexist and downright fascist views, I would have said you were exaggerating and that while many rural Republicans are taken in by confusing messages, they really are basically kind people who have just had little experience beyond their small towns.

At the same time, I wouldn’t have been able to effectively track what those two talk radio shows were on about. But after months of being subjected to real-live, paid-for and premeditated Republican propaganda, I am unwillingly well-versed.

As the Republican primary results for Arizona came in on Aug. 2, the last text was particularly chilling. “Our 2nd Amendment rights keep radical politicians in check. That's why we are proud to endorse Paul Gosar for US Congress!” Just in case someone didn’t catch the connotations of that, the text elaborated below. It’s “the radical Left in Congress” who “2nd Amendment rights” keep “in check.”

This official Republican party congratulation text for Paul Gosar essentially hints that the guns of the far right are the only thing holding back progressive members of Congress. And this was right smack in the middle of the hearings about the events of Jan 6, 2021. Not only is a coup the way these guys roll politically, but they’ll tell their supporters in the most official and trackable way that it isn’t just acceptable to think about using guns to intimidate members of Congress, it’s the “only thing” that will do that.

Unfortunately, what makes an undercover agent useful is someone to report to and some way to use the information. In my case, while I know that a lot of people underestimate the vicious craziness of the mainstream Republican base at this point, there is apparently nothing to be done. Even political candidates inciting followers to threaten or murder elected members of Congress is no longer something law enforcement cares about, or there’s been so much of it that it’s just the same old thing.

The strident anger of progressives sometimes grates at me when I’m living in my bubble. And I still don’t know that it’s the best approach, but this is the other side and there isn’t much in between or outside the box, these days.

I hope for all of our sake that we can find our way back to working together, because times are getting harder for everyone and it only looks like the times are going to get harder.

Measuring disadvantage: A well-intentioned concept gone horribly wrong

A few days ago, a blind woman with a white cane and a guide dog ordered a taxi in the city close to where I live. When the taxi arrived she got into the back and her guide dog was about to get in as well, but the taxi driver insisted that the dog was not allowed in his vehicle, despite national laws that bar discrimination against licensed guide dogs and their owners.

The woman argued with the driver and insisted that she had already paid for the taxi through her mobile app. The driver first shut the door, separating her from the guide dog and insisted that she would either go without her guide dog or she would lose the price of her fare because he would report that she hadn’t shown up.

The woman protested and the driver ordered her out of the cab and threatened to call the police.

The woman then began to voice-dial the police herself, due to the driver’s threatening tone and her knowledge of the law. The driver attempted to grab her phone. Then, cursing her with profanity, according to a witness, he opened the door and violently dragged the woman out of the vehicle. The witness’s video shows the woman roughly hauled from the taxi, so that she fell and was left lying in the open roadway where vehicles passed as the taxi drove away from the scene.

At the last second, the driver tossed the woman’s white cane out of a window and onto the road. In the video, the woman is seen slowly getting to her feet. Despite the presence of moving cars and a major hotel, the only person who came to her aid was the witness with the phone who had to run down several flights of stairs to reach her.

I haven’t been on social media much in the past six months. I used to try to keep up with Facebook for the connections to old friends and for the ostensible positive effect on marketing books.

But first activism and then family crisis interfered until I found myself popping onto Facebook only every week or so, to go through notifications and then get off. I used to get pretty worked up about some of the hideous things on social media, and now it is more like an intellectual dismay over the state of the world. I rarely have the impulse to get into a big argument or defend my position on social media these days.

Today for the first time in many months I commented on a post that got under my skin. And it wasn’t even about that incident with the woman and the taxi driver, which painfully reminds me of a time a few years ago when I was physically assaulted and threatened with police while asking a driver illegally parked across a sidewalk to either move or assist me because I couldn’t step out into traffic with my two toddlers to get around his vehicle, given that I can’t see.

The post that got at me this time was worse than just a single incident. I ended up doing some extra research and found my stomach boiling with frustration and even anger. And no, it wasn’t Trump supporters, neo-Nazis out to get my brown kids or white supremacists parasiting off of my spiritual symbols either (though those are things that have lit a fire in me in the past).

No. This time it is allies, just allies being knee-jerk and thoughtless in a way that leaves me sick with sadness.

Creative Commons image by Oregon Department of Transportation

The post was an online tool for measuring the intersectionality of oppression, called the Intersectionality Score. The theory of intersectionality is one I am well acquainted with and I’m not even particularly adverse to attempts to roughly measure it the way this tool does. It is a reasonably effective way to portray intersectionality both visually and kinesthetically and to allow people who may not have a lot of life experience with the issues to understand the interplay of factors in oppression and marginalization.

I guess the thing that really gets to me is when something reasonable and hopeful is finally done, but done so badly that it perpetuates harm.

Most progressive people who understand intersectionality have always insisted that it cannot be measured and that privilege cannot be compared. We don’t have any objective way of knowing if a Black person in Detroit faces more barriers than a disabled person in a small town in Nevada or visa versa, and most attempts to make a direct comparison are rightly shot down. But this Intersectionality Score tool makes an attempt to do just that, though it makes no vehement claims to accuracy.

But whether it claims accuracy or not, it does reflect the common attitudes of most woke progressive folks and for the past several months those attitudes have been one of the factors driving me away from social media and activism.

The Intersectionality Score tool isn’t the problem, only a symptom of attitudes that I have seen widespread and possibly increasing in recent years.

You see, the tool weights the various factors involved in marginalization—disability, economic class, gender, migration status, native language, race, sexual orientation and so forth (consciously listed alphabetically by me, not by them)—and you get a score based on where you fall on separate spectrums of each of these categories. It is reasonably complex and the fact that there are spectrums—rather than on/off switches—reflects an attempt at nuance and accuracy.

Most of the weighting is reasonable—judging from statistics of discrimination, hate crimes and life expectancy of various groups as well as broad experience of individuals known to me—with one glaring exception.

Perceived racial identity is the factor weighted heaviest, due to widespread discrimination, racist attitudes, police violence, social marginalization and a host of other pervasive adversities. Gender is given a bit more weight than sexual orientation and gender identity, probably because of wage inequality, endemic sexual harassment, domestic violence, social dismissal and other problems faced by women on a daily basis. Sexual orientation and gender identity do get more weight than say economic class, which could be debated, though given the number of fatal hate crimes against gay, lesbian and trans folks, a case can be made.

But the one factor that stands out as being dismissed and belittled in the Intersectionality Score tool is disability.

One can determine the weight given to any specific factor by leaving all other sliders neutral and sliding the bar for one factor all the way to each extreme. Out of 100 points, race is weighted at 27 points. That means that if you have a completely and utterly white person steeped in white culture and a completely and utterly black person steeped in black culture, but in all other respects they are somehow miraculously average, the black person is apparently disadvantaged in our society by 27 out of 100 points.

I am definitely on the far white end of that scale myself, but after years of study and watching my children who are not white grow up in a racist society, I have to conclude that this is a conservative estimate of the difference white privilege makes.

Gender is given a weight of 15 points, which again seems reasonable though conservative, to me as a woman, though I encounter irritating micro-aggressions daily and humiliation every now and then due to my gender. Sexual orientation is given 10 points, which I can imagine may well be justified.

But disability, even the most severe types of disability, is given just seven points out of a hundred.

Don’t get me wrong. I can imagine how a person without a disability, who has not researched the issue or had any significant experience with disabilities might think that although having a disability disadvantages a person because they actually lack some crucial abilities that isn’t what the Intersectionality Score is measuring. The uninformed able-bodied person can easily think that most of the issues concerning disability are unavoidable physical, neurological or biochemical problems, rather than socially constructed barriers, and thus not covered by the concept of intersectionality.

The problem is that this understandable able-bodied person would be wrong. And an uninformed person has no business designing and putting out a tool like this in public with links to major initiatives like Teaching Tolerance, while dismissing the social exclusion faced by people with disabilities as less than half as impactful as modern gender discrimination, for instance.

On any average day, the physical trouble being blind and somewhat mobility impaired causes me is a nuisance, something to be taken into account and worked around. The social impact, however, is overwhelming and has shaped my entire life from employment to social circles, from physical and intense psychological assaults to the necessity of emigrating to another country to achieve a basic level of freedom. Dealing with patriarchy as a woman is a pain and sometimes dangerous, but it doesn’t even come close to the impact of oppression and marginalization due to disability. And my disability is far from the most marginalizing possible.

It is hard to imagine that the designers of the Intersectionality Score tool were entirely uninformed about this. Here are some basic statistics that can be found with a 10 minute Google search:

• 47 percent of people with disabilities live in poverty.

• Internationally 90 percent of children who have a disability still don’t attend school today.

• People with disabilities are 70 percent more likely to be the victim of a violent crime.

• A third of all employers openly state that they do not hire people with disabilities because they assume people with disabilities cannot perform required job tasks, regardless of their track record.

• Only 35 percent of people with a disability, who are of age and able to work, actually have a job. About 80 percent of non-disabled individuals, in comparison, have a job.

• 6 percent of women with a disability in the UK have been forcibly sterilized.

• Only 45 countries in the world today have anti-discrimination laws that aim to protect people with disabilities.

• A quarter of people with disabilities face at least one incident of discrimination every single day.

• 40 percent of people with a disability in the UK encounter discrimination or socially constructed barriers when accessing basic goods and services like grocery shopping, medical services, housing and education.

• 38 percent of able-bodied people admit to pollsters that they believe anyone with a disability is a burden on society.

• 28 percentage of able-bodied people say they resent any extra attention that someone with a disability receives.

• Nearly 70 percent of able-bodied people say they actively avoid people with disabilities in social situations out of discomfort or irritation.

• Official estimates say that in the UK alone over 100 hate crimes are committed against individuals with disabilities every single day. An OSCE report states that hate crimes against people with disabilities, including assaults with more than one attacker, are critically under-reported, widespread and continuous, although they are much less discussed, studied or recognized by police than hate crimes based on race or religion.

• The FBI reported that serious hate crimes of national interest against people with disabilities rose by 70 percent between 2016 and 2017 and mentioned that hate crimes against people with disabilities are still vastly under-reported.

• The Harvard Implicit Association Test shows that out of a sample of more than 300,000 people, including people with disabilities themselves, nearly 80 percent of those who voluntarily took a psychological test have an automatic, if often subconscious, preference for able-bodied people over people with disabilities.

The designers of the Intersectionality Score tool might well argue that these problems are primarily about people with “severe disabilities” only. However, their tool uses a slider precisely for this reason. Only at the far end of the scale is an individual considered completely able bodied and without disability. And yet, their assumption is that the most extreme end of the disability scale implies only very minor social marginalization.

The designers of the tool may also be assuming that severe disabilities are rare. Again, it is a wrong assumption arrived at precisely because people with significant disabilities are so marginalized in society that they are often not present where able-bodied people are present. Nineteen percent of the US population is categorized as having a disability, while ten percent qualify as having a severe disability.

The designers of this tool may also argue with my anecdote in the beginning of this post, saying that the problem the woman faced was not based on prejudice related to her disability but related to something (the guide dog) which is only an accessory to the disability. Yet these same woke progressives have no trouble dissecting this same logic when police officers insist they shot a young black teen because he was wearing a hoodie, not because he was black, or when an employer insists he was not discriminating against a black woman in hiring but objecting to her “unprofessional” hairstyle.

I am going to mention here another possible explanation for the way the Intersectionality Score tool is designed, because it is inevitable that the argument will be used. Some will say that people with minor disabilities or health issues (peanut allergies are specifically belittled as insignificant on the site) will inevitably rank themselves as having a severe disability. The designers of the tool may claim this is the reason for the low weight given to the whole issue of disability.

The problem here is inherent to the attitudes toward people with disabilities. The designers of the Intersectionality Score tool trust people of color to rate their level of color versus whiteness. They trust the honesty of LGBTQ+ people to rate their own experience. But they don’t trust people with disabilities to be intelligent, fair-minded and understanding of nuance. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Disability is the least studied and the least mentioned marginalization factor among progressives and the general population alike. Often as not, diversity lists that insist on inclusion of people regardless of race, gender and so forth, don’t include disability or include it only under “other” categories.

Until recently, even I believed prejudice against people with disabilities was minor compared to other types of prejudice. I assumed this was an established fact because of the way my woke friends and colleagues only tacked it on at the end if at all when discussing prejudice or oppression. I believed it was minor, despite living through it personally day after day, personally experiencing hate-based assaults, hiring discrimination and community shunning.

I figured, along with most other woke progressives, that while people with disabilities experience some discrimination, people are much more likely to pity us than hate us. I assumed that my own experiences of hate and social marginalization in a wide variety of situations had as much to do with being a non-conformist as it did with having a disability.

That was until I encountered the Harvard Implicit Association Test. The results of this test are primarily offered only AFTER one has taken each test, so I have constructed bar graphs to show you the results more easily. The test is the same for each category. The respondent has to categorize images and words at high speed, depending on specific instructions given.

The test goes too fast to consciously manipulate. If you try, you will simply get a result saying your test couldn’t be processed or you made too many mistakes. But if you just do your best and have a minutely harder time categorizing one group of people with positive terms, the test will score you as being subconsciously biased against that group.

You might think that these split-second differences would be pretty random, but when distributed over hundreds of thousands of test respondents, they aren’t. The results show us what we already know about prejudice based on race and sexual orientation. There is a lot of bias out there, even among those who consciously want to be unbiased and anti-racist.

The Implicit Association Test doesn’t necessarily mean that a given individual will discriminate or even agree with their own test results. The official website of the Harvard Implicit Association Test states that, “While a single IAT is unlikely to be a good predictor of a single person’s behavior at a single time point, across many people the IAT does predict behavior in areas such as discrimination in hiring and promotion, medical treatment, and decisions related to criminal justice.”

That is to say that while you can’t take someone’s test score and know whether or not they will discriminate personally tomorrow, if a group has high scores of implicit bias against another group, discrimination and prejudice will rise accordingly. Groups that demonstrate higher implicit bias discriminate more and behave in more prejudiced ways over all. Groups that are less preferred in the test, experience more discrimination and social marginalization.

And as the charts of results show, 68 percent of respondents, representing more than 800,000 tests between 2004 and 2015, demonstrated an automatic preference for light skin over dark skin. The results are nearly identical on a similar test featuring photographs of European Americans versus African Americans, which was taken by over 3 million people. The test results are anything but random.

While around eighteen percent of people were neutral when it came to both race and sexual orientation questions, the bias was somewhat less on sexual orientation. For some of us, this is surprising information. If you grew up in a conservative Christian area, like I did, you get the impression that racism may exist but it is repressed, while homophobia is often loud and proud. But that loudness is confined to its homophobic specific group. Among those with anti-gay bias, there is a significant block—about 40 percent—where that bias is severe.

The same goes for bias against people with disabilities though, only more so. Of the 78 percent of people, who demonstrated bias against people with disabilities, half showed severe bias. The severe bias group here is larger and more extreme. The types of words associated with this negative bias against people with disabilities are not merely about pity or dismissal, but rather terms like “hatred,” “dishonest,” “ugly,” “terrible,” “poison,” “annoying,” and “disgust.”

I am left with this striking discrepancy. While the Harvard study, which is based on a scientific and measurable indicator, shows that people with disabilities face significantly greater potential prejudice and negative bias in society even than people of color, the tool designed by woke, progressive allies dismisses disability as a significant factor in the intersectionality of oppression and social marginalization.

It is difficult to avoid the obvious conclusion that the negative bias against people with disabilities discovered in the more objective Harvard study played a role in the design of the Intersectionality Score tool, and it continues to play a role in progressive and activist communities, which we have looked to as our best and only hope for equity and inclusion.

My experiences in progressive and activist organizations—too often being silenced and marginalized over ostensibly “interpersonal” problems with people I actually had no quarrel with—begin to take on new connotations.

Though I doubt the designers of the Intersectionality Score tool set out to perpetuate harmful dismissive and belittling attitudes toward people with disabilities in progressive communities, their site has that effect. Comments and responses on the site don’t appear to be up-to-date, so it is unlikely that they will listen, but I hope at least this one site will be changed to better reflect the realities we live with.

In the end, after getting it all down in words, I find that the burning anger, which aggravating social media posts so often kindle, has cooled. I’m left instead with aching grief and dread of a world in which my child, who is vulnerable both in terms of race/ethnicity and disability, has few true allies indeed.

Who's racist or ableist: the Implicit Association Test

When you aren’t on a deadline or scrambling to get done the essentials (but your brain is too tired to either pursue your serious interests or get you moving toward something truly restful), there is something you do at your computer in that state of numb fog.

It might be browsing through pictures of cute animals on Facebook or playing Tetris or Solitaire. It might not always be the same time waster, but chances are you have certain habits. I wonder if those habits say something interesting about your personality.

My numb-fog habit is browsing through sociological and psychological statistics. If one’s numb-fog habit does say something about one’s personality, I am pretty sure mine says I’m a hopelessly weird variety of nerd. But there you have it.

Creative Commons image by Whisperer in the Shaddows photostream

Sociology and psychology statistics are like mental candy. I know that they don’t always mean what they appear to mean and they aren’t always good for me. But they strip things down to outlines and make the world appear much more orderly and predictable than it actually is, even if its predictability is in how absolutely nuts and irrational most people are.

This is why I’m the type of person who takes the Myers-Briggs personality test for fun and tries to get my friends and family to take it too. And yes, I got a very weird (or at least statistically uncommon) result on that test.

On one of the rare days when my kids were away and I didn’t have to work during the winter break, I indulged in my numb-fog hobby instead of either sleeping (which would have been the responsible choice) or doing something fulfilling or useful. And what I found was an intriguing online study out of Harvard called the Implicit Association Test.

It’s actually a series of mini tests that cover everything from your subconscious preference for light skin or dark skin to your preference for randomly selected previous presidents versus Trump and from your positive feelings toward straight people versus gay people to the degree to which you subconsciously view Native Americans as “American” or “foreign.”

If you’re curious, I turned out to slightly prefer African Americans over white people, have no preference on gay versus straight, harbor a moderately strong assumption of Native Americans as more American than white Americans and (weirdly) I subconsciously slightly preferred Trump to Richard Nixon.

Needless to say, my results on these tests tend to be on the minority side, with the exception of my subconscious lack of interest in the difference between gay versus straight people, which appears to be fairly common.

The results of these tests can be surprising, both on the individual level and when taken as an overall statistic. I went into the race test knowing that the vast majority of respondents present a subconscious bias against African Americans, including more than half of African Americans themselves who subconsciously prefer white people over people who look like them.

The test goes so fast that you can’t really try to control it or even remember much of it, but there was one of the black faces with big, beautiful eyes that looked kind of like one of my friend’s kids, and maybe that’s what tipped the balance for me subconsciously. I’ll never know because the test doesn’t explain why we have subconscious associations, it just ruthlessly alerts us to them.

Many people find that even though they state vehemently anti-racist views and truly believe they are “color blind,” they still have implicit, subconscious biases, even against their own group. This study is proof that we don’t live in “a post-racial world.”

It is one thing to fight discrimination and prejudice through equality laws, but what do you do when the people perpetuating problems of inequity and prejudice don’t even know it or condone it? It’s tough, but there are people whose test results come back without bias or with a bias in favor of those who have been historically marginalized, like mine did.

In addition, though society makes much of sexual preference as a scandalous personal detail, most people actually don’t much care about other people’s bedroom activities, according to the Harvard test results. So there must be some way to mitigate prejudice.

I am pretty certain that, if I had taken this test twenty years ago, the results would have been different. I remember how, as a college kid coming from rural, eastern Oregon, I was nervous whenever I saw a black person coming toward me on the sidewalk.

I had nothing “against” black people. And in fact, I couldn’t understand why they had faced discrimination “years ago.” I didn’t really know any black people, except for my mom’s college friend who died of cancer when I was a child, but I did secretly wonder if the continued ruckus over “race” wasn’t just coming from a few who wanted to “feel special.”

I report this all with a bit of shame, but I think honesty helps. This was my view around 1995. As hilarious as it may sound now, I thought that we were completely “over it” back then. And had I taken the Implicit Association Test on race at that time, I am sure I would have had implicit bias against black people, though I would have consciously believed I was unbiased.

What changed? Both life experience and conscious focus.

First, I spent four months in Zimbabwe as a student, almost always the only white person in a room or on a street. Even though most people were wonderfully kind to me, I learned what it is like to be a highly visible racial minority in a country with hot political and racial tensions. I then spent several years covering racial and interethnic conflict as a journalist, mucking around in every type of divide from South America to Eastern Europe.

Finally, I adopted children who are not white and we live in a country where racial boundaries and prejudices are deeply intrenched. When my children were little, I started to experience first hand how race is truly viewed in majority-white societies. And I started reading copious amounts both on race theoretically and from Black, African, Native American and Asian authors. I chose racially diverse reading and dolls for my children and spent hours to find them, not to mention several times the amount of money necessary to buy “white race” toys.

It has taken years, but now I have very different views than I did as a young student. Not only do I know very well that our society is far from a post-racial world and I am hyper-aware of things like police brutality toward black people in America, I also have gained enormous gratitude and respect for the persistence, courage and patience that so many people of color have given our society throughout history.

That last is what I think made my test result skew in favor of black faces. After two decades of focusing on the positive contributions and articulate stories of people of color, my subconscious attitude has shifted. It is that also which causes so many African Americans to harbor more negative views of black faces.

Most people in our society are not immersed in stories, media and images that present people of color positively. In school or in the mainstream media, one cannot help but absorb mostly negative images of people of color and mostly positive images of white people. But I do not consume much mainstream media and it has been a long time since I was in school.

After all that, of course I was curious about what the test would say about attitudes toward people with disabilities. Popular assumptions would tell us that most people do not really dislike people with disabilities but possibly pity them or objectify them. Despite the occasional discrimination and harassment I’ve encountered which was clearly due to my disability, I thought surely actual hatred was reserved for people of some marginalized racial group or non-standard sexual orientation. I assumed, before seeing the results, that most of my difficulty with inclusion in social groups has to do with my physical inability to make eye contact and read non-verbal cues.

Here again, the results upset my assumptions and those of wider society as well.

I wondered if I would personally have a slight bias against people with disabilities myself. I have a rugged, self-sufficiency streak and people with disabilities often do better in a more collaborative and mutually supportive community. Even I do, though I might wish otherwise. So, I was prepared for the test to tell me I am just as “self-hating” as all the anti-black African Americans.

But that isn’t what happened. I turned out to have a slight implicit positive bias in favor of people with disabilities or at least in favor symbols associated with them.

Only 9 percent of people who took the test share that implicit bias in favor of people with disabilities, while a whopping 78 percent associate people with disabilities with negative thoughts, including roughly half of that number who have strong negative associations with disabled people.

That left me gaping and shocked. The negative bias against people with disabilities outstripped racial or homophobic bias. The words associated with people with disabilities on the negative side were things like “selfish”, “dishonest”, “hate”, “anger,” “despair” and “disgust”. It wasn’t even primarily about pity.

Those results are deeply disturbing to me and my afternoon of casual browsing through statistics turned sour.

To be strictly accurate, let me emphasize that these were the views of nearly 80 percent of the people who happened to take the Harvard Implicit Association test, which is mostly something people run across online or are assigned to do for a class. That isn’t really very comforting, however.

It is likely that if the demographic of the test takers is weighted in some way it is skewed toward more educated and connected people. And these are the people who have such overwhelmingly negative implicit associations when shown images and symbols associated with disabled people. This wasn’t measuring a sample of mostly uneducated or isolated people.

It is particularly concerning given that people with disabilities are usually the last group added or are completely left off of those ubiquitous lists of people we should include and center in progressive circles. I always figured that people with disabilities got left off of such lists or added as an afterthought because people thought we were generally viewed positively and there wasn’t much need to emphasize non-discrimination against people with disabilities.

Now that dismissal takes on a different connotation. People with disabilities are often left out even in diversity culture and when they are added in, it is as a prop, never as a voice. At this point I’m still reeling from seeing these results and I don’t have any idea why there are such negative stereotypes about people with disabilities.

But my own experience with overcoming racist biases makes me think that what we need is a significant, pervasive promotion of the voices, images and stories from people with disabilities with an emphasis on our altruism, unselfish contributions, intelligence, helpfulness, capabilities, honesty and dignity. Without such promotion throughout society, I doubt these attitudes will change.

Tolerating those with beliefs you (strongly) disagree with

I live among many people with beliefs I dislike—often abhor.

I live in a small town in Central Bohemia in the Czech Republic. It is almost entirely white and affluent. Recently a few Asian families have moved to town to open businesses. There are also a handful of oddball people of color—one kid at school with a mother from the Caribbean and so forth.

The opinions of most of my neighbors reflect that. They are inexperienced, fearful of people with different skin tones, and resentful of the hardworking Asian business owners (who keep their shops open hours after everyone else has closed up). They blithely “pop out to the Vietnamese” at 8:00 pm to get a snack when no one else in ten kilometers is open, but they’ll be back at the Asian-bashing the next morning… or often as not, on the way home from the store..

Beyond that, the country is not very diverse. We are among the handful of countries in the EU who have taken in the fewest refugees as a percent of population. My neighbors are always telling me about why we shouldn’t take in refugees, particularly not from Muslim countries.

This isn’t backwoods ignorance but rather pseudo-intellectual rhetoric:

“European culture is founded on Christianity and the enlightenment. Even though most of us are not really Christians anymore, that’s our cultural foundation. Muslims don’t fit in here and they will make enclaves where they enforce their culture and beliefs. They’ll also change our overall culture. They have a lot more children than we do. In the end, you know they want to force us to live under Sharia law.”

There are so many false assumptions in this common public story that I hear from every side daily, even within my own family. that it would take at least five blog posts to cover them all:

1. No, Europe was actually Pagan. Christianity came from the same general area as a large number of the refugees.

2. Refugees don’t erase your cultural foundation. Throughout history, nations that accepted refugees have done better economically and become more culturally enlightened. I’ve never seen a historical exception to this fact.

3. Poor and desperate people have more children. Secure people with access to education and health care have fewer children. That’s a very basic biological fact about humans as a species. If you want to curb population growth, give people education and health care.

4. The majority of Muslim immigrants don’t want Sharia law. Fanaticism is often a top reason they left their homelands. Even in Muslim majority countries, opinions about Islamic extremists are overwhelmingly negative.

Creative Commons image by Andy Blackledge

The fact remains that I live next to, converse politely with and even maintain a shallow level of friendship with many people who hold a lot of bigoted, inexperienced and hateful opinions. I have little choice, since I live in a country where these are the views of the vast majority of the population. Unless I want to be a hermit, who only shops at the family owned Vietnamese store (with nice people) and who doesn’t even use social media, I have to learn to live in the vicinity of horrid opinions.

But the original question that sparked this post on befriending or respecting those with beliefs you don’t like came from these same people—just the other way around. I have been asked many times how I can have Muslim friends and express respect for Muslims, when I am not a Muslim and I clearly disagree with some common Muslim beliefs and even the very basis of that religion.

Once I had a party with a lot of international friends from the city. There were probably thirty people in my yard and living room. One of my foreigner friends from the high-energy activist culture of Prague, a Palestinian student, had brought a couple of his friends.who I didn’t know as well. At one point they approached me as a group and asked if there was some quiet place where they could pray, given that they really did pray five times a day.

The choices weren’t spectacular. The yard was full and mostly dirt at the time anyway. The house was tiny with the main room, one bedroom with too little floor space and my office area, which also included a couple of beds behind a curtain. I took them to the office, which at least had a door that could be closed.

The office not only had rumpled beds and a pile of my folded clothing but various Pagan statues and artwork scattered around. I noticed that the Muslim students seemed a bit uneasy about the arrangement, but it really was the only viable option. They quickly rallied and expressed their appreciation. I pointed out the direction of southeast, which was easy since my practice involves compass points as well. Then I left them to it.

Before that, I once accompanied a Muslim woman in Kazakhstan on a pilgrimage to a holy site in Turkestan (which is a town, not a country). My interest was journalism and personal experience. This woman narrated much of her beliefs and practice along the way, while I went through the motions as a sign of respect and as a way to broaden my own understanding.

All this, and I can still say I really don’t agree with Islam.

I know some Muslims like to point out that the word “Islam” is closely connected to the word “peace,” but let’s face it, the history of Islam has been far from peaceful. Show me a major religion without copious amounts of blood on its hands.

The Koran says some violent and intolerant things, whether about the particular battles of Mohammed’s time or about the way the world works in general. And so does the Bible and so do lots of original Pagan myths. I’m not arguing that we have to take these things literally or that I’m better than anyone else. But the fact is that there are plenty of things in the Koran that I don’t like.

There is that controversy over the “Verse of the Swords,” which can be read to mean that a Muslim should fight, hound and persecute non-believers wherever they be found or it can e read to be referring only to a specific incident when some Pagans broke a treaty with Mohammed. Mohammed sounds to me like a pretty normal leader, trying to deal with the realities of the world and getting confused about how much force should be used in defense of what he believes—hardly someone copying down directly the words dictated by the one and only true God.

Another controversy arises out of verse 4:34 of the Koran regarding relations between husbands and wives. It states that women should be obedient because God put men over women and if a wife disobeys, her husband should first advise her, then refuse to have sex and finally“strike” her if she doesn’t submit. Scholars like to argue over the many possible meanings of the word “strike” in Arabic, some insisting that the verse does not actually condone domestic violence.

But that isn’t even my primary concern. I’m still stuck on the part about women being obedient and God putting men over women. I know this was written for a violent and harsh time and women did often need the protection of men. But men needed the life-giving power of women. And this is supposed to be directly inspired by God. And hopefully God—even a regular god, let alone the one and only God—surely ought to be able to see beyond the local, current context when dictating the ultimate rules for everything.

So, it isn’t a religion for me. I can’t go with both believing the Koran is literally inspired by the only true God and that we have to take the stuff about women being inferior in social context. I really don’t like these beliefs. But it is the peaceful way of life and the respect toward women shown by the Muslims I meet that makes them welcome for me.

A few years ago, I decided to read the mythology of every major religion to my children for a year. I obtained children’s versions of the important stories from Islam, Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism and a wide variety of Pagan and indigenous faiths.

Some of the Jewish and Christian stories made me pause. I skipped a few of the more gruesome ones that I just couldn’t conscience reading to young children. But when I got to the Islamic stories, I couldn’t find ANY that were not deeply problematic from the perspective of modern, sheltered children. Maybe I had the wrong book, though it had an author who professed to be Muslim and it was specifically for children.

I’ll grant that Pagan stories have been sanitized over the years. We don’t have such old texts, so we will likely never know how gruesome the versions of our stories from 1,500 years ago would have been, if we could read them in the original. And again, I don’t encourage literalism in mythology.

But there is also the matter of the whole Islamic thing about how there is only one God and some intolerance toward those who believe otherwise. I do have many gods and I dislike intolerance in Islam as much as I dislike similar intolerance in my neighbors.

But here is the thing. I tolerate in society those who do not impose their beliefs on others.

Islamic extremists do impose their beliefs on others. I will always speak out against such extremists and I won’t tolerate them or welcome them to a community. The same goes for Christian fundamentalists who seek to impose their beliefs on others. The same goes for those who may call themselves Pagan or Heathen, while usurping my spiritual symbols for the purposes of intolerance and hate.

Those Muslims I do tolerate are those who have been, in my substantial experience, considerate and accepting of others. I do not claim to understand why they believe in a faith I don’t always like.

All I ask in return is that they don’t instantly judge me for the actions of white supremacists who steal Pagan symbols and defame my spiritual path.

Those people I befriend are those who are willing to have open conversations, those who come into my home and treat me, my family and my beliefs with respect and care. Again, I don’t have to like or agree with all of the beliefs of my friends, although to be friends I do hope to have conversations about such things and at least seek to understand each other’s perspective.

Europeans who fear Muslims often ask me, “How can you trust them? I read that Muslims are taught to lie to non-believers and behave nicely so that they can get into a position to either kill us or force us to convert.”

I have read the same allegations. And I know for a fact that some Christian groups teach this very thing in the US: “Work your way into their confidence. Use gifts and friendship to get close to them and then bring them to Jesus.” I haven’t personally encountered an emphasis on killing unbelievers among American Christians, but my pacifist brother was once beaten by kids in a youth group while Christian adult leaders looked on and encouraged them to “beat the devil out of him.”

So, yeah, I believe Muslim extremists probably teach something like this too. I don’t have real personal experience or evidence of it. But it stands to reason, given the similarities to other religious extremists and their preferred interpretation of the “Verse of the Sword.”

Do I believe that my Muslim friends are secretly plotting to someday stop being nice, force us to convert and kill us if we refuse? No, I just don’t believe that.

Why don’t I? I have several other friends who were raised Muslim but aren’t practicing Muslims, who are critical of the religion or just turned atheist. And I have no doubt that if Muslims across the board were taught that doctrine, many such people would have talked about it openly by now. It just is not a mainstream Muslim thing,

So, I don’t actually find it at all difficult to tolerate or befriend Muslims who probably hold beliefs that I dislike. They don’t bludgeon me with their beliefs. They are tolerant and respectful of others. Do I understand? No, not really. But I’m willing to have deep philosophical conversations with them and maybe someday I will understand.

I find it harder to tolerate and befriend racist and isolationist neighbors. I mostly do it because I have little choice. I have friendships where I have to avoid a lot of topics of conversation. Those friendships are shallow, utilitarian and mostly for the children involved.

And even so, I entirely avoid those who really go overboard with expressing racist and isolationist opinions. I don’t want that around my kids. I don’t really even want it in my own ears.

Do I fully understand them? No. I am willing to have deep philosophical conversations, if they’ll stop bludgeoning me with their caustic opinions long enough to have a deep philosophical conversation, and maybe someday I will understand.

Not all opinions are equal

I have always wanted to be for peace.

The peacemakers of today’s well-connected world cry, “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion! Just scroll on past!”

And I find that I cannot be a peacemaker because all opinions are not created equal.

There are opinions about whether this or that candidate is better. There are opinions about how we should manage the city water problem. There are opinions about which health care or tax policy is best. And generally those opinions are all equal. I may disagree with one or more, but I am happy to listen and let live.

It’s when an opinion is hate against a person or group of people due to circumstances beyond their control that it is no longer an opinion, or at least no longer equal.

Many pundits blame social media for the angry divides of today’s society. And I can see why. Social media is where a lot of arguments happen.

But social media is designed to send us what we like. The algorithms of the various sites don’t send us everything available but rather place us in bubbles of mostly those who agree with us. We only encounter a fraction of the differing opinions out there.

Social media doesn’t set out to create conflict. Quite the opposite. But technology has become a great leveler.

I think it is more that relatively cheap and portable technology has given voices to everyone and blurred lines of geography. It makes the saying, “Injustice somewhere is injustice everywhere,” more palpable.

The fact is that the world was NOT less divided thirty years ago or a hundred years ago. It was more divided.

But privileged people didn’t know about most of it and those experiencing the most injustice had only each other to talk to about their exploitation. The world was more segregated and groups deemed unsightly either stayed out of sight or were put out of sight.

Today the world is not any more divided than it was, but we know about more divides than we used to. Opinions and the actions they engendered which harmed less privileged groups were not often challenged because the harmed groups had no voice and no access to the places where the privileged relaxed and talked.

Now that social media is that place and technology has allowed almost everyone in, we are confronted by those we have opinions about. And they talk back..

I grew up in remote, rural Eastern Oregon, an area that voted 70 percent for Trump in 2016 and which was almost entirely white when I was a child.

When my mom first arrived in the area to homestead with my father, she saw a black family at a gas station in the tiny town of Elgin. She went up to them gladly. Black people had taken her in when she had to leave home at seventeen and she was overjoyed to see their faces. But the father told her they were leaving because of the rampant racism and ostracism in the area.

They left and that was that. No more “divide” in the community.

When I heard racist jokes at school as a child, I didn’t call them out the way I do on Facebook. I kept my head down because as a kid with a disability, I got plenty of bullying as it was. It wasn’t a “divide” because I had no voice, no possibility of standing up, and People of Color were simply elsewhere.

Now we see a divide. Before we could pretend it didn’t exist because those who were vulnerable hid it to survive or were so far removed from us that we never saw or heard from them.

Opening up, people who were shut away walking out in public, the formerly silenced having a voice—these things are not divisive. It is not the “evil” of social media that creates the strife.

It is bigotry and judgementalism. It has always been there. Now it is being challenged.

I welcome differences of opinion when they are not about judging and mistreating others. It is really that simple. Not all opinions are equal. You are entitled to your opinion so long as it does not incite hatred or judgment against others for characteristics they did not choose… or even for things they did choose in so far as they have no bearing on anyone beyond themselves.

Ridiculing a person with a disability, accusing them of “faking” or declaring what you think they should not be allowed to do or have responsibility for is not an “opinion.” It’s an attack for the purpose of silencing and dismissing people.

I am fine with discussing health care policy and climate policy and immigration control and medical ethics with varied viewpoints. What is not open for discussion and what will get comments deleted without warning are those opinions which specifically judge and attack people for reasons that are innate to them.

People standing up to judgement, on the other hand, are welcome. Our voices only sound strident or hot-tempered because they are rusty from too much silence.

Fair warning.

Dismissal, excuses and faux neutrality are at the core of racism and ableism

We consider ourselves to be unbiased, color-blind, tolerant and accepting of all. And yet the accusations of racism and ableism against ordinary, good people in our society never cease.

It brings up defensiveness, anxiety and eventually anger. We don’t see the point.

So what if someone made a slip of the tongue? So what if a group of kids smirked in the general direction of a Native American elder?

Creative Commons image by Igor Spasic

"There are good reasons. The kids were provoked by a weird religious cult that was racist against white people! There you have it. It’s really all reverse discrimination, a bunch of losers whining because they don’t have what it takes to make it in direct competition, so they want affirmative action and cry ‘racism’ or ‘ableism’ at every turn.”

It is rarely said that coherently and in one breath, but it is what a lot of people think.

I know because I used to think essentially that, except for including ableism in it or resenting affirmative action. I was 18 at the time and I was and still am ninety percent blind. I was mildly, quietly resentful of the focus on racial justice at my university. There was almost no mention of ableism back then and I felt that discrimination against people with disabilities was given short shrift.

It was and often still is. But that did not mean that racism was any less of a problem than the students of color said it was. They were exhausted over the endless fight with it and they were far more tired of the topic than I could ever have been. That was the part I didn’t understand.

It took traveling and living in thirty different countries, listening to hundreds of people tell me their stories while I wrote about social justice issues as a journalist and becoming part of an ethnically mixed family to entirely change my views.

Today, I have to say that such dismissal, excuses and faux neutrality, which once had me duped, is not just the mild fringe of racism and ableism, but rather its heart and core.

Two days ago my third-grade daughter came home from school upset. Her hands were shaking while she told me that some boys had been drawing insulting pictures of Asians on the blackboard when the teacher wasn’t in the room. They were laughing and saying derogatory things about Asian people. A few Asian families have moved to our small town in the past few years. Most classes at the school now have an Asian kid or two in them. My daughter’s class doesn’t have an Asian kid, but it does have my daughter, the only person of color in the classroom.

My daughter, who is generally pretty timid, went up to the boys and asked them, “How would you like it if someone laughed at you that way?”

One of the boys turned to her and said, “You of all people had better shut up. You’re the most brown of any of us.”

My daughter went back to her friends. She was upset and one of her friends was sympathetic. My daughter was too afraid to do anything about it or report it. The classroom has an anonymous tip box for the teacher, where the kids can put a note if they have a problem they don’t want to talk to the teacher about personally but want to resolve. My daughter’s friend offered to write a note and put it in the box because my daughter was too afraid.

Then, in the evening I wrote a note to the teacher through the parent-teacher communication system. My daughter’s teacher has generally been wonderful and exceptionally kind.

I had done multicultural sensitivity workshops in the preschool but have since been overwhelmed with work, health problems and family troubles for the last few years. They had wanted me to come back but I just couldn’t do it. It takes several days to plan, gather materials and do the workshops, and I have to take the time off of work. There usually isn’t a budget for any materials, so I have to fund that myself. Obviously I’m doing it as a volunteer, not getting paid.

But I decided it was time to get back into it. I offered the teacher my help in doing some workshops for her class and told her what I had understood from my daughter’s description. I happily anticipated being able to solve the problem with the sympathetic and helpful teacher.

This evening I got the teacher’s reply, And it hit me like a sucker punch. The teacher didn’t dispute anything I said. She said that the note she got in the box completely agreed with the version I recounted. She said she doesn’t think it’s a problem that the boys draw pictures of Chinese people on the board because they draw pictures of the Simpsons as well. “They’re just having fun.”

She didn’t mention what the boy said to my daughter but she said that in general she doesn’t think the incident is important. She said she had heard the children laugh about “Chinese people“ and she doesn’t think that’s a problem. She said maybe I could do a writing workshop for her class.

I was concerned when my daughter told me about it. On the one hand, I wish my children would never have to be exposed to racism, either as a bystander or a target. But I am no longer the naive eighteen-year-old who used to think we lived in a post-racial world. It’s going to happen, and frankly, my concern was tempered by the small, relatively controlled environment of the third-grade classroom and my assumption of the teacher as an ally.

The teacher’s dismissal not only makes the situation many times worse, but it also shows me how much deeper the problem likely runs in the community. Hence my claim that dismissal and excuse aren’t some kind of benevolent mild fringe of prejudice but rather its fortifying center.

There is another scene that haunts me nearly daily from when my children were toddlers. Two family members had been making comments, saying they didn’t think I was “safe with kids” or “could be a safe parent” because of my vision impairment. I had never had a serious safety scare with my kids. My job involved teaching groups of preschool-age children. I had pulled a drowning child out of water four times and none of those was a child I was supposed to be watching at the moment.

I was very physically active and adept with many physical skills, and I was hurt by those comments. I was even more hurt by their practical implications, as I was prohibited from watching my nieces and nephews during my rare trans-Atlantic visits, it impacted my children’s ability to know their cousins.

One of the family members repeated the hurtful comments at the beginning of an extended family camping trip, and I could feel my whole world quaking. But I appealed to the rest of the family and asked for a family meeting. I was sure that with family consensus and the fact of my good track record on my side, I could be rid of these comments and the accompanying stigma.

My family has always been progressive and openly against all prejudice after all. My brothers and I were brought up to be independent and free-thinking. We always spoke out against racism and my vision impairment was rarely mentioned outside of medical necessities. We were the tolerant, accepting, progressive folks. And so I was sure I would be heard.

Instead I learned a bitter lesson.

The extended family meeting decided unanimously that I was overreacting. They agreed that there was no reason to doubt my safety with kids but also declared “neutrality” in the “argument” over it. “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion,” I was told.

My defense of my parenting bona fides was deemed “disruptive to the family,” whereas the prejudiced remarks and discriminatory actions of other members, which actively harmed children in the family, were deemed “a reasonable matter of opinion."

I felt as though I had been frozen inside a block of ice. A week later, I got on a flight back across the Atlantic and the incident was forgotten by most in the family. Water under the bridge.

This was how I learned how much greater harm dismissal does than even the initial prejudice. And I swore I would never again dismiss prejudice when I happened to land on the more privileged side of the equation, as is the case with racism.

That’s why I speak out against it and hold my ground. To truly feel you love people of all colors and shapes is not enough. Even to try to be unbiased and kind is not enough. We must learn to listen when someone says our actions or the actions of those connected to us have caused hurt or appear to come from prejudice.

Certainly, disingenuous accusations have been made somewhere in the world at some time, but believing the vulnerable party is always the better bet. Redress is rarely more than saying with open-hearted sincerity, “I am sorry my words or actions hurt you. What can I do to make sure prejudice isn’t perpetuated?”

Even sincere acknowledgement costs little. The cost of dismissal, on the other hand, is devastating.