The Artist's Brush

NOTE:  This one is long enough that I've indicated "Part I" and "Part II"


Part I
This one is going to be difficult to write.  Not because I don't know what I want to say.  But because what I am relating was so chaotic I need to try and remember all that was said.  AND I need to recall at what points in time I got to respond and exactly what word I got in edgewise.  Besides that, when something is so upsetting it is jumbled in my own mind.  I'll see if I can make it clear. 

Remember the "Adding Letters To My Life" post?  Well, that same older woman about whom I wrote came to sit with "our" table again this week.   (Darn, she must have liked us and our discussion!  Now I had to be respectful and inclusive!)  I had arrived first.  As I was wondering where everyone was, literally, all of a sudden, the seat next to me was taken.  I don't know if the woman (I'm going to call her "Mrs. Broad Brush") even said hello.  I think she simply began talking.

She first wanted to know if I remembered a few years back when a Christian church was bombed in Istanbul (I think, but somewhere in Turkey).  I did not.  She was not surprised because the "media" only presented the story once.  And they might not even report things like that.  (Right now please imagine anyone and everyone you  associate with the media in a Darth Vader or Devil costume.  Whatever.  As long as they portray the darkest evil. Absolutely no exceptions.  Well, except maybe Pat Robertson and those good Christians, of course.  Oh, and Rush and Glenn.  They AREN'T media.  A confession; she didn't say that last part.  Totally my observation.  Please see note at end of post.)  Since I did not want her to misinterpret my silence as agreement, I responded.  I said that I was not one who believed that all the media are universally bad and not to be trusted.  I thought, just like in all professions, there were people who had integrity and who worked at doing their job well.   No response from her.  It wasn't, evidently, what she wanted to hear.  So she just kept talking, almost as if I had not spoken.


She went back to Muslims, I think.  Something was said about Muslims, anyway, in some context.  I had no idea what was going on.  All I knew was that one moment I was alone and the next I was in the deep middle of a conversation with someone I really didn't know.  A conversation I did not want to have.  It was like the Tasmanian Devil cartoon character had spun into the room and sat next to me.  But, on the chance she wanted to do some Muslim bashing, I tried to head her off.  I said that, of course, we were talking about extremists.  That must not have satisfied her either.  She went on to explain to me that she saw a picture on the Internet where Muslim men were having a mass wedding and all of these very young girls were dressed up.  They were the brides.

I, very, very foolishly, thought she might take a another hint and understand that I was not going to have a "broad brush" discussion.  So I told her that I rarely click on even "news" summaries on the Internet.  But that I did know I would not trust any picture on the Internet.  I would want to verify the true source and know the intent of the picture's publication.  I went on to say that although I don't take pictures, I do know that they can easily be altered or combined to make one picture.  I did not point out to her that she was trusting a form of media.  I didn't think logic would appeal to her.  However, I did also mention that, as I understand it, we have human trafficking in this country.  So exploitation of girls is global. 

She didn't take my hint.  She would not be denied.  She grabbed my mention of human trafficking and began to talk about a documentary that she saw about native American Indians.  Those girls are the most abused.  Something about a woman whose daughter was murdered and in general the women will not report abuse.  In fact, they take these girls to some houses (empty?) on the reservation and/or just let them fend for themselves.  But then finally the FBI came in.  (If this sounds disjointed and you have no idea what the documentary was about, you are on track.  This is literally all that I could get.  She was talking so fast, trying to get to her real point.  You'll see what I mean in a minute, I think.)   

At the mention of the FBI, I jumped in, actually interrupted her, which I hate to do.  I wondered how the FBI was involved?  The Indian reservations are sovereign  nations.  Did the reservation invite the FBI in?  It seemed to me that she jumped on that thought.  (In my mind, it simply allowed her to get to the good part of the story.  But that is conjecture on my part.  So let me be fair and say that.)  Yes, they had invited the FBI in. 

At this point I realized I had no idea how to respond to this woman.  So my internal struggle began.  She was definitely a lot older than I.  I didn't mind being straightforward, but how, exactly?  Here I was at a church-sponsored function and I was completely aggravated and disgusted.  And we hadn't even started!!  I decided that with some people you need not bother to attempt discussion.  And it seemed she had proven thus far that maybe that would be wise.  So I began to simply shake my head back and forth, like I couldn't believe it, what a shame.  And it was.  Just not what she thought was such a shame.

So Mrs. Broad Brush plowed on.  And my head continued to shake for what seemed like forever.  Others had arrived but her diatribe continued.  And did you know that the Indians won't parent their children?  Of course, "they" are so busy drinking and gambling all day.  That's why.   My head started throbbing.  A headache was coming on fast.  And my stomach was in knots.  (Slapping her was out of the question but for a split second it was SO tempting.  Was it really out of the question?  I was debating.) 

This time I considered actually asking her why she trusted the documentary.  It was media, after all.  How did she decide which media presentation or output to believe and which to reject and scorn?  Thought maybe I'd at least learn that from the "conversation".  I rely on individual research and study; examining a source, questioning assumptions, talking to people whose perspective is different from mine, etc. I thought that's what education was supposed to do for us.  Teach us to think for ourselves.  And I taught for a good number of years!!  I had it wrong.  Our "Christian" America knows better.  They have discernment about the media. They know which media is good and which is bad.  As I said above, I do know who some of the good media are.  But those are the obvious ones.  Documentaries would be difficult for me.  And I want to be a good Christian.  So shouldn't I try and learn that?  I passed on the opportunity.  Instead, I just kept shaking my head.  At least it was sincere.  I was really thinking "What a shame!".

Mrs. Broad Brush was persistent.  She repeated a number of times how "they" don't parent.  "And that's right here in our own country!"  What a blight on our Christian nation.  ( My sarcastic interjection.  Not her thought.  And I HATE sarcasm.   Indicates just how stressful I found the situation.  I thought about crying but I rarely cry in public, I've found.  Mental sarcasm was helping me cope.  Shame on me.)

The fact that America even has "reservations" to my way of thinking SHOUTS something.  (Oh wait a minute, let me make that "Reservations".)  SCREAMS  it loud and clear.  But that is my contrarian view.  I wanted to throw that at her.  But thankfully I got rescued.  My friend Sue came by, said hello, and the night's presenter started the study.  I believe in miracles.  I really do.  And I'm NOT being sarcastic about that. 

Part II
Driving home I was thinking the nightmare over.  My first thought was sarcastic.  I was in that frame of mind.  I thought about beginning to carry around a big, wide brush, one like maybe Tom Sawyer used to whitewash the fence.  It would be my "Broad Strokes" award.  I would hand it out to people like Mrs. B.  I would explain to them, with excitement in my voice (just like the game show hosts) that s/he had won!!!  S/he was the most narrow-minded person I had run into this week.  And narrow-mindedness won you the "Broad Strokes" award.  I loved the contradiction. 

But those who know me well know I really do hate sarcasm.  I like straightforward.  So right behind that thought I was aggravated with myself.  I should also be ashamed.  First of all I was allowing someone's world view to make me respond in a nasty manner.  Not so Christian, I'm thinking.  And I should be ashamed because I wasn't even trying to look for something positive from the night.  I was focusing on the negative, just like Mrs. Broad Brush.  I was taking one person and one incident and reinforcing some general observations I had been noting for some time.  And I don't mind general observation.  It seems to me that we have to make and use them as we make decisions about how to live our lives.  I don't mind them, if they are based on an attempt to be fair-minded.  If they are based on a reasonable period of time with respect to the observations.  If they are based on a large number of various people and different incidents.  And, most importantly, if I keep in mind that I could be wrong and/or be willing to stay open to reason. 

Can't say I felt too much better about the night or Mrs. Broad Brush.  But I did let the sarcasm go.  Instead, I began to think of how, if I were still teaching, I would present the concept.  Here's what I decided.

I would have a painting or water color (I LOVE water color).   It would be of an intricate subject matter, with lots of color and shading.  I would have at least one medium sized artist's brush, one whose bristles could be used more broadly or, with skill, based on lots of practice, could be used to paint even the smallest dot on the painting.  I would equate life and people to that painting.  I would point out how alive and rich and interesting the painting was because of the variety of composition.  Then I'd start a discussion about the choice of brushes and which could best produce that beautiful painting.  How would the painting be different, depending on which brush is used?  What joy would the resulting painting bring?  Which painting would you like to represent your life?  Etc.  I would tell the story of my encounter with Mrs. B.  I'd point out my own negativity and my need to have thought things through and question myself.  I hope the students would get the point and would take it to heart.  That's the kind of thing I hope I was trying to get across for lots of years. 

NOTE:  I mentioned Rush and Glenn.  In the sense of "full and fair disclosure", let me tell you what I know about them.  Very little, by choice.  Let me explain.  First Rush. 

We had a very good friend with whom we worked for years.  He would not miss Rush's radio show.   I really liked him.  Still do.  But I never heard him say Rush could be wrong.   I had never even heard the show, but I just didn't see how any of us can ALWAYS  be right.  Rush's program must have changed time slots because years later he was on the radio station Allan listened to while getting ready for work each morning.  So for several mornings we didn't bother changing stations.  Before long I complained that either I had to get ready in the other bathroom or Rush had to go.  Several reasons:  1) The guy never told where he got his information so I could read / study it and decide for myself.  2) He mostly ranted. Rarely just talked and presented his case logically.  3)  I HATED  when he imitated people's voices.  The very thing for which I would have spanked my child if she persisted in doing, this guy was getting famous and making millions!  4)  I didn't want to start my day in an adversarial, negative way.  I didn't like the unconscious attitude that could result in.   Allan readily agreed.  We should change stations.   We did.

My next exposure to Rush was two years ago, I believe.  I was watching the History channel while dusting the bedroom one Saturday morning.  It was on Michael J Fox and his current efforts to support research on his disease.  I did not know several things.  First, I did not know the research was controversial.  (Lots of time I don't know what's going on.  I don't know that lots of things are political.  I just don't see them that way.)  Secondly, I did not know that they videotape or record radio shows.  (Whichever.  As my brother says, I am ATC; "Absolutely Technologically Challenged".)

The program was highlighting some of Michael J Fox's struggles with respect to research.  They showed Rush, doing his radio show.  To my way of thinking he was ranting and raving about the research and Michael J Fox.  He began to throw his body around in his chair, I guess imitating Michael's lack of physical control over his body?  He was repeating that it was all an act, "Folks".  I simply could not believe it.  I started to cry.  That was my response.  To think that one individual would make fun of another's illness and/or indicate that someone was basically trying to commit what would amount to fraud?  With illness, real or faked?

Allan was on his way to practice for a concert to benefit Habitat for Humanity.  I called his cell.  When he answered I was crying so hard I could barely speak.  I tried to say right away that nothing was wrong; not to get scared.  Then I told him about the show, explaining I didn't understand how one human could make fun of and belittle another like that.  If nothing else, I think I would be afraid.  I got calmed down.  But I've only been told a few things Rush has said since then.  I tell Allan I don't want to know.  I don't want him mentioned to me.  I don't want that kind of hate anywhere "near" me. 

Now Glenn.  I did not know who he was until about 3 or 4 years ago.  A woman asked me if I knew who he was.  No.  She said he was a "good Christian man" and that I should listen to him.  I didn't watch FOX TV so I had to search for him.  I found him.  I listened for maybe 5-10 minutes before I had to turn him off.  Another day I decided to try him again, just in case my first and very quick impression was off.  He was talking about a building in NYC and the messages apparent in the frescoes (Right word?  You know what I mean, probably.)   It had to do with a conspiracy (?) of sorts and our country.  He asked was he crazy?  Was he the only one who saw this?  Something like that, or almost exactly like that.  I decided the man WAS  crazy.  The architecture, time frame and the associations he was making were, frankly, unsettling.  It didn't appear sane, in any way.  I now have the same philosophy that I use for Rush.  Don't want to know anything about him.  Of course, did see glimpse of his rally.  But that was on the TV.  Didn't mean to.  And I had to change the channel.

Just so you know, I do not listen to any political radio shows.  I know there are other radio personalities on the other side.   Seems logical.   Don't know who they are.  Nor do I want to.