I am spending most of this weekend in Michigan. It's a new state for me to check off the list and so far has been quite a good experience (I am starting this blog on Friday night).
Frenchie's Choice and I were paired for our diversity class to do a project on a perspective that one of us has which the other doesn't. It could be anything, but since Frenchie and I actually have a lot of identities in common we opted to focus a bit on gender. Frenchie spent time prior to grad school volunteering at a small community college in rural Michigan, doing service learning initiatives in collaboration with a domestic violence homeless shelter. This would give me a great insight to many of Frenchie's perceptions and views, and an inside look at a DV shelter who mostly serves women since the vast majority of adults domestically abused are women. In return, I'm taking her to a Cleveland Indians game, because she hates baseball and I love it. Seems like a balanced trade? Well, hopefully the way I spin the baseball game, she will learn a bit more about me. But so far, I've definitely learned a lot, and since I only have a 5 minute presentation, I figure I can reflect on it more here in the blog.
First, driving up through Ohio and Michigan was a magical experience due to the fact that last week someone flipped a switch and turned on Fall. The trees were vibrant colors, some still bright green, some bright red, some bright yellow, bright orange, even bright purple. It was blasts of color flashing along the wooded highway. Frenchie and I also talked for almost six hours straight, which made time fly fast. Since while we are friends we haven't had much hangout time, it was a good catch up. It was also nice to hear each other's perspectives on things like diversity class, cohort issues, higher education, careers, love life, family life, religion, politics, food, travel, futures, past experiences, and more. Even on three hours of sleep, I was having too much fun to get too sleepy. It was good times.
Arriving at the community college, the first thing we did was interrupt a meeting between the president of the college and the associate dean, who welcomed us, told us to sit, and continued their very open and honest strategic planning meeting in front of us. I had two quarters of org theory and admin classes summed up in 10 minutes of real world conversation. It was wonderful! The associate dean was Frenchie's former boss and a great guy. We had fun shooting the breeze and the two caught up before we headed down Frenchie's old commute of about 40 miles one way to the domestic violence shelter.
At the DV shelter, I was a little intimidated at first when they just straight up asked me what do I know about domestic violence and what does it mean to me. I sputtered through a very honest answer that I had not really thought hard about the idea of domestic violence, acknowledging that as a male, I knew statistics and intellectually that this was bad, but did not have a strong connection to it especially since I didn't know anyone who dealt with it. They kindly corrected me saying nobody had admitted to me that I knew someone, but I very likely did since one in four women experiences it. Also, upon further reflection, I'm a complete jerk for forgetting about my cousin's terrible terrible experiences with it, which confirmed my self assessment that DV does not impact me, so I am more removed from it than I should be. That is part of my privilege.
They went on to hand me some really awesome educational materials and then just sit and chat with me and Frenchie. We talked about how common the occurrences are, how there are way more factors at play then just a jerk of a man in their life. How poverty, location, upbringing, circumstance, children, employment, alcohol, drugs, and health care are all highly influencing factors, especially at their shelter, which was designed to address people without a home. They talked about this concept of homelessness, and how often getting the crap beaten out of you every day or week was a price worth paying to keep a roof over your head, in many of the victim's minds. We talked about how common excuses like I just lose control when I've been drinking, or I have anger problems, are bs since the person doesn't just start wailing on anybody when drunk or upset, just their women and/or kids. We talked about how easy it is to say, "there's no way that actually happened" because the stories are so horrific or unique that they must be made up, and how questioning a woman's credibility just perpetuates the power exerted on her. We talked about how kids will mimic their fathers and be abuse to their mothers. We talked about the different types of abuse, like verbal, physical, psychological, and sexual. And we talked about power, the root of all domestic violence. How it is men (usually) exerting their power over women in some form or fashion. How when their lives are out of control, the women are something that can control. How why would a man stop abusing a women when he gets essentially a free slave that he just has to beat every once in a while and she will stay in place. How women don't feel like they have the power to leave and how DV shelters help try to empower women to tell their own stories, be heroines in their own lives, to give them back that power. It was very enlightening, eye opening, and most importantly, with their many stories, helped me have a better idea of what DV really was on an individual and system level.
I listened as they talked about resources, like counseling, courts, cops and other things available to these victims. I nodded sympathetically as they discussed the challenges of govt. controlling their spending, red tape, and fundraising to keep the shelters doing their best work. And I asked them how I, as a person of male privilege, could be a better ally. They talked about role modeling behavior, calling out sexists remarks or jokes, and truly support and advocating for women. On this, I was slightly disappointed because I feel I do a lot of those things already, but the reaffirmation and new information I feel have better prepared me to understand the perspectives these victims are coming from. And I hope I have more tools to be a better resource and support for all victims of DV, especially those in the economic conditions of places like rural Michigan.
I was hoping to finish writing this on Sunday, but the short version of how the weekend ended was with Frenchie and I going to a Cleveland Indians game. Her chance to see my other side started first from her saying she hated baseball. I, an avid lover of the game, decided this was a great way to show insight to this love, as well as connect baseball back to my family, childhood, passion, and pastime. So I explained the strategy that goes into baseball. How pitching works, what a pitcher is trying to do, how he interacts with the catcher, what the fielders are doing, what the batter is doing, how it is both a very individual and very team focused game, why and when managers make substitutions, and on and on and on about the rules of the game I love. I also told her how it was different being at a game vs watching it vs playing, and that to truly appreciate the strategy, I recommend watching it on TV. At the game, I encouraged her to take advantage of the alcohol and food, which we did. I explained that the Indian stadium atmosphere was kind of disappointing with such a late season faltering in the standings and a fanbase that barely cared anymore. Even when the Indians came back to tie on a 2 out 9th inning rally, there was barely and life in the crowd. But I also talked about how going to the game was about family to me, and the memories of my dad and siblings going out for a great game while my mom enjoyed an evening to herself. How I played little league and that started my true love for baseball and for my favorite team, the Angels. Not the Dodgers, not the Padres, not some random other team, but the Angels, and as Frenchie grew up in Annapolis, how the Orioles and Nationals could both be her teams, and she was much more into the game as she thought about the Orioles. In short, I think she had as good a time as possible and doesn't hate baseball quite so much. Yay for new perspectives!
I think that's all for this week. Have a great one all!
-JTY
Listening to: Tron Legacy soundtrack. I found it to be good exercise music
Reading: Slaughterhouse 5, cuz why not.
Playing: Borderlands 2 and League. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Frenchie's Choice and I were paired for our diversity class to do a project on a perspective that one of us has which the other doesn't. It could be anything, but since Frenchie and I actually have a lot of identities in common we opted to focus a bit on gender. Frenchie spent time prior to grad school volunteering at a small community college in rural Michigan, doing service learning initiatives in collaboration with a domestic violence homeless shelter. This would give me a great insight to many of Frenchie's perceptions and views, and an inside look at a DV shelter who mostly serves women since the vast majority of adults domestically abused are women. In return, I'm taking her to a Cleveland Indians game, because she hates baseball and I love it. Seems like a balanced trade? Well, hopefully the way I spin the baseball game, she will learn a bit more about me. But so far, I've definitely learned a lot, and since I only have a 5 minute presentation, I figure I can reflect on it more here in the blog.
First, driving up through Ohio and Michigan was a magical experience due to the fact that last week someone flipped a switch and turned on Fall. The trees were vibrant colors, some still bright green, some bright red, some bright yellow, bright orange, even bright purple. It was blasts of color flashing along the wooded highway. Frenchie and I also talked for almost six hours straight, which made time fly fast. Since while we are friends we haven't had much hangout time, it was a good catch up. It was also nice to hear each other's perspectives on things like diversity class, cohort issues, higher education, careers, love life, family life, religion, politics, food, travel, futures, past experiences, and more. Even on three hours of sleep, I was having too much fun to get too sleepy. It was good times.
Arriving at the community college, the first thing we did was interrupt a meeting between the president of the college and the associate dean, who welcomed us, told us to sit, and continued their very open and honest strategic planning meeting in front of us. I had two quarters of org theory and admin classes summed up in 10 minutes of real world conversation. It was wonderful! The associate dean was Frenchie's former boss and a great guy. We had fun shooting the breeze and the two caught up before we headed down Frenchie's old commute of about 40 miles one way to the domestic violence shelter.
At the DV shelter, I was a little intimidated at first when they just straight up asked me what do I know about domestic violence and what does it mean to me. I sputtered through a very honest answer that I had not really thought hard about the idea of domestic violence, acknowledging that as a male, I knew statistics and intellectually that this was bad, but did not have a strong connection to it especially since I didn't know anyone who dealt with it. They kindly corrected me saying nobody had admitted to me that I knew someone, but I very likely did since one in four women experiences it. Also, upon further reflection, I'm a complete jerk for forgetting about my cousin's terrible terrible experiences with it, which confirmed my self assessment that DV does not impact me, so I am more removed from it than I should be. That is part of my privilege.
They went on to hand me some really awesome educational materials and then just sit and chat with me and Frenchie. We talked about how common the occurrences are, how there are way more factors at play then just a jerk of a man in their life. How poverty, location, upbringing, circumstance, children, employment, alcohol, drugs, and health care are all highly influencing factors, especially at their shelter, which was designed to address people without a home. They talked about this concept of homelessness, and how often getting the crap beaten out of you every day or week was a price worth paying to keep a roof over your head, in many of the victim's minds. We talked about how common excuses like I just lose control when I've been drinking, or I have anger problems, are bs since the person doesn't just start wailing on anybody when drunk or upset, just their women and/or kids. We talked about how easy it is to say, "there's no way that actually happened" because the stories are so horrific or unique that they must be made up, and how questioning a woman's credibility just perpetuates the power exerted on her. We talked about how kids will mimic their fathers and be abuse to their mothers. We talked about the different types of abuse, like verbal, physical, psychological, and sexual. And we talked about power, the root of all domestic violence. How it is men (usually) exerting their power over women in some form or fashion. How when their lives are out of control, the women are something that can control. How why would a man stop abusing a women when he gets essentially a free slave that he just has to beat every once in a while and she will stay in place. How women don't feel like they have the power to leave and how DV shelters help try to empower women to tell their own stories, be heroines in their own lives, to give them back that power. It was very enlightening, eye opening, and most importantly, with their many stories, helped me have a better idea of what DV really was on an individual and system level.
I listened as they talked about resources, like counseling, courts, cops and other things available to these victims. I nodded sympathetically as they discussed the challenges of govt. controlling their spending, red tape, and fundraising to keep the shelters doing their best work. And I asked them how I, as a person of male privilege, could be a better ally. They talked about role modeling behavior, calling out sexists remarks or jokes, and truly support and advocating for women. On this, I was slightly disappointed because I feel I do a lot of those things already, but the reaffirmation and new information I feel have better prepared me to understand the perspectives these victims are coming from. And I hope I have more tools to be a better resource and support for all victims of DV, especially those in the economic conditions of places like rural Michigan.
I was hoping to finish writing this on Sunday, but the short version of how the weekend ended was with Frenchie and I going to a Cleveland Indians game. Her chance to see my other side started first from her saying she hated baseball. I, an avid lover of the game, decided this was a great way to show insight to this love, as well as connect baseball back to my family, childhood, passion, and pastime. So I explained the strategy that goes into baseball. How pitching works, what a pitcher is trying to do, how he interacts with the catcher, what the fielders are doing, what the batter is doing, how it is both a very individual and very team focused game, why and when managers make substitutions, and on and on and on about the rules of the game I love. I also told her how it was different being at a game vs watching it vs playing, and that to truly appreciate the strategy, I recommend watching it on TV. At the game, I encouraged her to take advantage of the alcohol and food, which we did. I explained that the Indian stadium atmosphere was kind of disappointing with such a late season faltering in the standings and a fanbase that barely cared anymore. Even when the Indians came back to tie on a 2 out 9th inning rally, there was barely and life in the crowd. But I also talked about how going to the game was about family to me, and the memories of my dad and siblings going out for a great game while my mom enjoyed an evening to herself. How I played little league and that started my true love for baseball and for my favorite team, the Angels. Not the Dodgers, not the Padres, not some random other team, but the Angels, and as Frenchie grew up in Annapolis, how the Orioles and Nationals could both be her teams, and she was much more into the game as she thought about the Orioles. In short, I think she had as good a time as possible and doesn't hate baseball quite so much. Yay for new perspectives!
I think that's all for this week. Have a great one all!
-JTY
Listening to: Tron Legacy soundtrack. I found it to be good exercise music
Reading: Slaughterhouse 5, cuz why not.
Playing: Borderlands 2 and League. Thoroughly enjoyable.
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