Saturday, March 17, 2018

Universal bean dip recipe

Lately I've been domestic-goddess-ing it up a lot, which amounts to fewer blog posts.

I made two quilts.

I made Kouign Amann, a Breton pastry I learned about on the British Baking Show.

I made pie.

I've also made a lot of bean dip lately.  I love bean dip of all kinds.  I just didn't use to make it because I didn't have a blender, and a food processor doesn't get it really creamy because it's more for chopping.  Since I got one this past Christmas, I've been trying lots of kinds of bean dip.

I discovered that it doesn't really matter what kind of bean dip you're trying to make, the method and proportions are pretty much the same.  You need cooked beans, oil, acid, and flavoring.

So, for instance, black bean dip can be made like this:

1 can of black beans, drained
2-4 Tbs olive oil (or other oil)
1-2 Tbs lime juice
jalapenos, onions, cayenne, chili powder, garlic, cumin, and/or salt to taste

You blend the beans with the oil, then add the other ingredients.

Meanwhile my white bean recipe has a little twist: I like to cook the seasonings in the oil.

Onions, fresh thyme, fresh rosemary, and garlic, cooked in 2-4 Tbs of olive oil
1 can white beans
1-2 Tbs lemon juice
salt to taste

That's it!  The only important thing is to mix in the oil before the acid, so the blended beans really drink it in.

Can you make hummus like this?

Turns out you can!

1 can chickpeas, drained
2-4 Tbs olive oil
(tahini if you have it -- I never do)
1-2 Tbs lemon juice
parsley, cumin, garlic, salt

Now some blenders do not like to blend anything that doesn't have enough liquid in it.  If yours is like that (mine is) make sure the oil is added at the very beginning, and add more if it's not blending.

Bean dip is good on crackers, bell pepper slices, carrot sticks, celery sticks, cucumber slices, and so on.  If you eat the last of it with a spoon, I'll never tell.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Bad news for rural mothers

Since I was in college, I've heard bad things about our local hospital, Warren Memorial Hospital (WMC).  It was understaffed, it took forever to be seen, the ER waiting room was always full.  When John was hospitalized there years ago for diverticulitis, it took hours for him to get any pain meds and he was kept without food for half a day longer than he needed to be, because that's how long it took to see a doctor.

But the doctors and nurses there didn't seem to be incompetent, just too few.  And in recent years, I have been hearing it's been a lot better.  It might be Obamacare--forced and subsidized insurance means they're not carrying the burden of all the uninsured people in the county, as they previously did.  Or it might be that the hospital was bought out by Valley Health, a big hospital group.  The town has started to be spotted with Valley Health signs: my doctor, the kids' doctor, the lab, the nursing home, the urgent care.  Everything's owned by Valley Health.  But they do a good job, so far as I know, so I haven't been making a big fuss about the monopoly.

It turns out I should have been.  Lately the government put in a big, beautiful road which goes around town and makes it a lot easier for people in certain neighborhoods to get to the freeway.  And on that road, Valley Health is building a new hospital.  The plan is to close WMH, which is admittedly old, and build something much nicer.  So far, so good.  But they're not building a labor and delivery unit.  No ob/gyn services will be offered at the new hospital.  The staff of the women's care wing are getting laid off, and women with delivery dates after June are being told to change their plans to deliver at the next closest hospital, Winchester Medical Center (WMC), half an hour away.

Half an hour isn't that far.  But, of course, it's further from some parts of the county.  And even half an hour is a long time to ride in a car when you're in labor.  I'm a person who has had very fast labors, so I wouldn't have wanted to deliver somewhere so far from where I live.  And what if it were in rush hour?  It's taken me an hour to traverse the same distance once, when there was a traffic jam.  I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be keen to deliver on the side of I-81.

Of course, I have homebirths.  But I had homebirths in part because I knew we were very close to a hospital and could have been there in five or ten minutes in an emergency.  I didn't have a homebirth because I wanted medical help to be unavailable; I had one because I wanted to stay in the safety of home so long as there weren't any worrisome warning signs.  There weren't, and I never went in .... but imagine my midwives trying to transport a laboring woman for 35 minutes, while the baby is in distress or the mother is bleeding.  That is much, much too long.  Women aren't going to want to sign up for a homebirth if there's no closer care than that.

And then there's the question of prenatal care.  Not everyone in town has cars, but the bus only goes around town.  It doesn't go to Winchester.  You can take a cab, but round-trip cab fare to WMC runs about $70.  A lot of people here can't spare $70 a month, on top of the doctor bill, to get checkups.  That means warning signs like high blood pressure will be missed.  High blood pressure, leading to pre-eclampsia, is one of the leading causes of maternal mortality.  That's why women who don't have access to prenatal care are much more likely to die.

That's really what this comes down to: women and babies dying.  Rural women are 60% more likely to die in labor, and lack of access to ob/gyn care may be why.

WMH has been delivering about 375-400 babies a year in recent years.  That's not a lot -- way less than WMC -- but it's been enough to have an L&D unit all this time.  So why isn't Valley Health keeping it now?

The answer is that Valley Health also owns WMC.  They're not losing any business by this move, because there's no hospital closer than WMC for people to go to.  They want to save money on building a new L&D ward by diverting all those people to WMC.  Yes, it is likely to raise maternal and infant mortality in our county.  But!  It helps their bottom line, so what else do we expect?

Our struggle here is echoed around the country.  Hospitals are closing L&D wards in rural areas, to the detriment of maternal and infant health.

Right now women in the area are protesting the decision, hoping it's not too late to save maternity care in the county.  They've got a facebook group and had a protest.  There's a bigger rally coming up soon -- March 17th, at the gazebo.  I just don't know that Valley Health is going to listen to us.  Most of our elected representatives seem to be on our side, but the hospital is privately owned -- it doesn't have to keep an L&D unit open if it doesn't want to.  I just hope the bad publicity and the weight on their consciences will do the trick.

Friday, February 16, 2018

In which I am forced out of the closet

This blog has been my closet for two years now.  That is, I mostly don't talk about religion anywhere but here.  I didn't want to make a big statement and offend half my friends, so I have shared my theological questions and opinions here, in the safety of obscurity.  This blog isn't private, but it's read by maybe twenty people and, so far as I know, you're all nice, so I've felt pretty safe being open on here.  It's like having a private conversation in a busy restaurant.  There are other people there, but they don't care about you enough to listen in.

And it's possible to dig through my facebook account enough to find one's way to this blog and then read back through for several months and get posts that mention my beliefs.  I didn't worry about that too much, because I figured nobody cares about me enough to do that kind of digging unless they really like me.

Well, I was wrong.  Somebody did care that much.  Someone, probably ticked off about my criticism of Christendom's treatment of rape victims, found their way here.  He immediately messaged me saying that I owed it to everyone to be public, for fear someone might listen to me or trust me because they thought I was Catholic.  Not that I've claimed to be, but people consider it the default because I went to Christendom, so not making my private views public, in his view, amounted to lying.

And because of all that, he gave me a deadline.  Make an announcement in a group we're both part of, or he'd do it for me.

It got me really upset.  I've had a lot of reasons for keeping my religious beliefs mostly to myself.  I don't want it to be a big thing.  I don't want to make people think badly of my kids or my husband because of me.  I also know that many people take the view that having private opinions is one thing, but making a public statement is formal apostasy and gives scandal.  I never wanted to make that kind of gesture.  It only upsets people, and who am I to "give people a faith crisis," as my words have been accused of doing?  I've warned people off this blog a few times for that reason.  If you find I'm scandalizing you, don't read.  It's fine.  I just didn't want to be accused of throwing my opinions in people's faces.

At the same time, the closet is a smothery place and I've complained about it a bit.  Even just being able to talk about stuff here, and nowhere else, is still pretty isolating.  I comment a lot on Catholic stuff, and while I never claim to be Catholic, people assume and it's hard to walk the line of saying only things a Catholic would believe, without saying things I don't believe.  It's a mental burden to be doing that all the time.  I've been looking forward to maybe being a little braver someday.

But it's different to have that forced on me.  It's sickening to have someone else have that kind of power over me, to decide what I am allowed to keep private and what I am not.  I felt ill about it for a day or so, went back and forth with the guy trying to talk him out of it, but his mind was made up.  So I went ahead and posted to the group, while making clear that I was being forced to do it.  I don't want to now be punished because I insisted on being public about this.  At the same time, I had no interest in stalling for time.  The unpleasantness of people's negative responses would be a lot better than the stress of knowing a person who dislikes me was holding that over my head.

I got a lot of supportive messages over it, so that was nice.  I know most people aren't that cruel.  They might be sad not to share a faith with me anymore, but they also want to condemn that sort of behavior.  They agree it was my right to tell or not tell who I wanted.

But of course, there's plenty of negative feedback as well.  I commented on a friend's post about gun control today and someone, a stranger to me and not a member of the group I posted in, said that no one should believe me because I "publicly" apostasized.  Not that there is a Catholic teaching about gun control, or that I had claimed anything about Catholic teaching, but simply that I existed while not being Catholic.  It bothers me that the information is spreading so much.  I wonder if my blog is going to get a whole bunch of hits all of a sudden, people eager to pick apart my beliefs and condemn me.  To gawk at photos of my kids, sneer at Marko's autism, judge my parenting.  I feel like I'm naked in the middle of my college Commons. 

Anyway, it's hard to write this post now because I feel I'm no longer just talking to you, my online friends, some of whom I've been interacting with for a decade or more.  I'm talking also to enemies, who may or not be reading.  But again, I feel that avoiding talking on here just gives those people more power than they deserve.  I'm not letting them kill my blog.  I'm not the one who has done something to be ashamed of.

Could I get some supportive comments today?  I'd like a reminder that people are reading who like me, or who like what I write, and aren't just here to judge me.  Even the people who are Catholic aren't the Inquisition.  You guys are good people and you're not here to stare .... right?

Monday, February 5, 2018

Glasses and the ship of Theseus

Since Jackie was born, I haven't been seeing very well.  I gave it some time to get better on its own, but it didn't, so I finally went out and got some glasses.

It really should not be a big deal.  They're just glasses.  I even think they look fine, in the abstract.  But my face doesn't look like I'm used to it looking.  It's thrown me into a tailspin of anxiety, which I tried to remedy by putting more blue on my hair and painting my toenails, but of course this made it worse.  I look in the mirror and I don't see me.  I see someone who looks very, very different.

Change is one of the more troubling parts off the human experience.  When I was a kid, I loved it and was always in a hurry for more things to change.  I tried on new outfits, rearranged my room, measured myself against the wall to see if I'd grown another inch.  Then puberty hit and I'm not sure I've ever recovered from the trauma.  In my head, I'm still about ten years old.

External things change all the time.  The house I grew up in is still there, but it's been changed a lot and I can't go there anymore.  My family has four more kids than it had when I was growing up in it, with a whole new set of customs and inside jokes.  The cabin where we spent our honeymoon has been sold.

But that's nothing compared to the amount we ourselves change.  When I go back to a place from long ago, it doesn't matter how little it's changed -- it still looks different from the way it looked when I was there.  My old college campus is ten minutes from me, but I rarely go.  It's just too weird, being there yet feeling so different than I did then.

I sometimes wonder what twelve-year-old me would think if she heard I never built the treehouse that was my number-one dream at the time to build.  Or that I have four kids and only one cat.  What would sixteen-year-old me think if she knew I never got consecrated, that I now detest Regnum Christi?  What would twenty-year-old me think about my not being Catholic anymore?  What would twenty-five-year-old me think about my kids going to public school and getting all their vaccines?  Would all those people be disappointed in me?  And what is the point of making any plans, having any opinions, dreaming any dreams, knowing that my future self might think all that stuff is stupid?

With so much change, it's hard to see what exactly stays the same about me.  I was a bubbly, talkative person at thirteen, and now I dread leaving the house.  I don't look the same, have the same opinions, or see any of the same people.  But when exactly did the change happen?  Old me wasn't abducted by aliens and replaced by new me.  Instead the change was so gradual I didn't even notice most of it.  It's like the Ship of Theseus.  This philosophical parable tells about a ship which undergoes repairs until, over time, there's no part of it that hasn't been replaced.  Is it still the same ship?

I've gotten myself so hung up over this idea that I've been afraid to go to sleep because I'm not sure the version of me that exists tomorrow is really the same as the one I am today.  Does that mean falling asleep is dying?  Sometimes it feels like it is.

Religion helped me with this, when I believed in it.  There was this unchanging soul inside of me that kept everything consistent even after every molecule of my body was replaced.  And I imagined eternity would involve looking back over every moment of my life, being able to savor every sunset and fiery autumn leaf and baby's smile.  I would have all the time in the world to enjoy all those transitory things, because nothing would really be lost.  Sadly, I don't believe that anymore.

I guess it's one of the heartaches that flesh is heir to.  Like losing friends or accepting that we will one day die, it's just a grief we all have to live with.  You don't have to keep obsessing over it, but you can't necessarily escape it either.  It just is.

I recently read a great story about this in which the hero decides not to change.  It's kind of appealing.  At the same time, isn't it rejecting a big part of what makes us human?  We need the ability to change, because nobody gets everything right on the first try.  All of the ideas I once believed and have since discarded, I discarded because I had good reason to think they were wrong.  And I need the ability to do this.

Likewise, when my kids grow older, sad as it is to say goodbye to their baby selves, it's a joy to discover their older selves.  It's something that is supposed to happen.  As they say, "Growing old sucks, but it beats the alternative!"  I wouldn't even want my kids to stay babies forever.  It would be depriving them of a chance to be something new, something they have the potential to become.  Maybe I don't know what that's going to be, any more than they do, but there's no reason to assume that what they are today is better.  Or that what I am today is better than what I will someday be.

I guess the scary part is that, at thirty-one, I worry that I've already peaked, that the rest of my life is going to be glasses and bifocals and hearing aids and sore joints.  My body isn't likely to get any healthier.  Though there's still hope for increased wisdom and more accomplishments.  It's just ... life is so short, and I spent such a lot of it in cults and having babies.  It stresses me out.

I don't really have a tidy takeaway.  I do think that change is a part of what I am -- that imagining a constant self that doesn't change would be like imagining a river without the flowing.  At the same time, it hurts and it's scary.  That's a part of it too.  Like changing seasons, would I really appreciate anything in my life if I knew I would have it the same forever?

Maybe not.  But that's not going to stop me from clinging to things I want to keep.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Teaching an autistic child about consent

Lately I've read a lot, and I mean a lot, of comments about rape and rape culture and consent and victim blaming.  One comment that has stayed with me was something like, "I'm not worried about my sons, because I have taught them about consent."

And it bothered me.  I mean, I'm sure we would like to believe that all rapists just haven't been taught about consent.  Maybe they picked up toxic attitudes toward women from their parents, or maybe no one ever talked to them about it at all.  But it's possible that the parents taught them about consent and they ignored the lesson.  People have free will.

Still, it's definitely something I'm trying to teach my kids about all the same.  Certainly it's a conversation we need to have, and more than once.

But autistic children are an extra challenge.  Normally I completely reject defenses of rapists that include stuff like "maybe he just couldn't tell she didn't want that!" because most of us have the basic ability to read other people better than that.  But autistic people struggle.  I want to communicate consent without terrifying my kid to the point that he'll never approach someone he's attracted to!

Here are a couple of reasons why autistic people might struggle with consent:

  • Flirtation and romance often are heavy on subtext -- and subtext is a second language for them.
  • They learn a lot of social skills from TV, where they can watch a scene over and over and learn how people act -- but Hollywood has creeptastic ideas about what women want.  I do not want my son to treat women the way Han Solo or James Bond does.
  • They may internalize an idea that "asking permission is unromantic" because it rarely happens that way in fiction -- but asking permission with words is sometimes the only way they can get a clear answer.
  • They internalize rules that are clear and spelled out verbally, but very often the rules we teach our children ("don't have sex before marriage," for instance) don't include consent, because we think it goes without saying.  With autistic children, nothing ever goes without saying.  There's an autistic guy I've talked to online before who explained that all non-procreative sex is rape, while all procreative sex within marriage is okay.  Why?  Well, because the Catholic Church says sex must be within marriage and procreative, but it doesn't talk a lot about consent, so he just sort of ... glossed over that part.
  • People often fail to obtain consent from autistic children.  Autistic children are often put through therapy where they are forced to hug, touch, or make eye contact when they are uncomfortable.  I read an autistic person's account of how she got in trouble for taking off people's headphones to talk to them.  Her complaint was that her teachers and parents always yanked off her headphones without asking, so she thought this was an okay thing to do.  Autistic people long for consistent rules -- they will treat others the way we treat them.

So how do we overcome all this?  How do we teach our children not to rape, to recognize when they are raped or assaulted, and at the same time not make them afraid of relationships?

Spoiler: I don't know for sure.  My kids are young still, and none of even them know yet where babies come from.  When we get to that point, I'm almost certainly going to need to enlist some help.  But we're laying the foundations now, and I can tell you what we're doing.

First lesson: Your body is yours.

I'm trying to respect their own wishes.  This isn't even possible all the time, because I do have to wipe their butts (yes, all four of their butts are still in need of my skills from time to time, moan moan) and make them get in the car.  But I try to let them have some choice in any matter involving them.  You know, blue shirt or green shirt, get in the car now or in two minutes, that sort of thing.  That paralyzed Marko when he was two and three years old, but now it makes a big difference.

I don't always ask Marko before hugging him, because he usually does like it, but sometimes I doublecheck to be sure.  I want him to know he can always say no.  That's doubly true with people outside the family, whom he usually does not want to interact with at all.  I have started pushing him more to say hello or look at people when we meet ("so that they know we like them and are happy to see them") but touching is always optional.

Second lesson: Not everyone likes the same things.

I try not to appeal to what is "reasonable" or "the only way" when talking to Marko.  I don't say, "That food is delicious," when he's saying he hates it, I simply say, "I know you don't like it, but you finish you will get dessert."  (Yes, I used to be strongly against this approach, but as he's severely underweight, we have to do it this way.)  I don't say, "It's obnoxious to be singing all the time," although it totally is, but instead, "I am tired of all this singing and would like some quiet, could you either stop or go somewhere else?"  My point here is to try to get him to understand subjectivity, that there's no wrong or right answer sometimes.  What one person loves, another hates.

Marko learned not to hit (most of the time) by about four years old, but he's learned a whole arsenal of other tricks.  He'll lean on you really hard, or hug you too tight, or make a loud noise in your ear -- anything to show he's mad without breaking a rule.  So we've talked about how the real rule is not to touch anyone in a way they don't like, and the kindest thing is to do things they do like.  He's actually started explaining this to me, so I know we're getting somewhere.  He knows that the way you show kindness to Miriam is to share toys and let her join in, while the way to show kindness to Michael is to let him have some control of the game they are play together.  And tickling, hugging, or kissing a child who isn't liking it is treated the same as hitting -- he must apologize if it's by accident, and have a time-out if it's on purpose or he refuses to apologize.  (I never made him apologize before about six years old, because he simply didn't get it.  Now he does, but it's still a bit of a struggle.)

In short, there is no rule that will tell you what behavior is always appropriate.  Appropriate behavior must be behavior both people are okay with.

Lesson three: Nonverbal communication counts.

Marko's younger siblings don't always communicate clearly, which makes them a great object lesson about unspoken consent and refusal.  For instance, if he's playing with the baby, I point out the signs that show that she is having fun, and the signs that she is not.  "She's pulling away, I don't think she wants that hug," versus "Look at her laughing! She loves that!  If she could talk, she'd be asking for another tickle!"

Miriam can talk, but she doesn't always remember to, so we have the same conversation.  "Look at Miriam's face.  See how she is shrieking at you?  Do you know what it is she didn't like about what just happened?  Let's try asking her."

Lesson four: Consent can be withdrawn at any time.

Marko gets upset sometimes when the rules of the game are changed on him.  He just figured out Mama likes hugs, how can she stop wanting hugs after the 43rd consecutive hug?  But that doesn't obligate me to play along.  I can simply say, "You know, normally I love hugs, but I am done with them for awhile.  Come back later."

Likewise, Marko is a lot more willing to play games that push his limits a little (like John's scary monster game) if he knows that when he says he's done, it stops.

Lesson five: TV is not reality.

At this point, most of the TV the kids watch is designed for them and has lessons appropriate for them.  But I still pause from time to time to point out stuff.  "When Rainbow Dash says, 'Why are saying I'm angry? I'm not upset!  And I am NOT ANGRY!' do you think she is telling the truth?  Why do you think she's pretending she's not angry when she is?"

As they get older, I'm going to be riding the pause button a lot harder.  Marko needs to be explicitly told what is like real life and what is only in shows.  He needs to know that when male characters kiss and grab their female friends, in real life, the women might not like that.  We can talk about how you might know that someone wants that (for instance, they said so).

This will make me the obnoxious mom, but you gotta do what you gotta do.  I'm probably going to encourage him to watch sitcoms and other "girl" shows with me, because they actually teach a lot about real social situations in a way that Marko's favorite genre (fantasy) usually does not.

So that's what I've got so far.  Do you have any more ideas?  What are good ways to help autistic children practice reading other people's wishes and standing up for their own?

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Does Christendom have a problem?

All my social networks are abuzz right now because of Simcha Fisher's articles about Christendom's handling of several rape cases.  Many alumni are leaping in to defend the college; they feel Simcha's article was a hit piece which blames Christendom's strict rules for rape.  Others are coming forward to admit a lot more incidents happened than are described in the articles, and that the college has a lot of dysfunction when it comes to dealing with serious problems.

Personally, I loved Christendom.  I was very happy there.  I was only two years out of the Regnum Christi school, and those two years had been extremely isolated for me.  To arrive on this beautiful campus and be surrounded with friendly, serious Catholics was a dream come true.  I had real friendships, and at the same time I had a lot more freedom than I'd had in boarding school.  There were a zillion rules, from curfew to dress code, but they didn't bother me at all.  They were less strict than what I was used to.  When people complained, I thought they were lightweights and probably not very pious.

There were things that did bother me.  It upset me how impossible it was to have a normal relationship with a guy.  I had zero experience when I arrived at Christendom, but even I could tell that the ban on hand-holding and kissing just led to couples going off into the woods to make out.  And another bad result was that the rumor mill had so little grist to go on that it would just make stuff up.  Seen hanging out with one guy one week, and another guy another week?  You were kinda fast.  Even if you were only trying to get class notes.  One girl "dated" a guy for over a month, at least in the eyes of the rumor mill AND the guy, before she found out that's what their friendship was supposed to be.

During the time I was there, some friends of mine were going through really hard times.  That, I could tell.  What I did not know was that they had actually been assaulted by fellow students -- and not the rude, hard-drinking kind (of which we had a few) but guys I would have thought as respectable, as gentlemen.  Why did I not know that?  Well, it wasn't something that was talked about.  The same went for other friends struggling with mental illnesses.  I always assumed Student Life was looking out for people.  But it turns out, it wasn't.

Christendom, in my mind, has three big flaws.  It is unprofessional, it is overly concerned with appearances, and it is controlling to the point of infantilizing its students.

I'm used to small Catholic organizations being unprofessional.  They can't really help it.  They're new, they're tiny, and the kind of experts that would help them don't want to work for them for peanuts.  So very often the "professionals" they have to rely on are friends and family of the founders.  This was my experience teaching in Catholic schools, where we would have the daughter of the board chairman as an art teacher, though she knew little about art or teaching; or me, for that matter, stuck into a classroom after a one-semester teaching practicum course.  When a child had special needs, there would be nothing we could do -- a school of forty kids can't afford an occupational therapist -- but no one ever wanted to admit it and tell the student's parents to take him elsewhere.  So it was up to a couple of unlicensed teachers in their twenties to figure it out.

And it's the same at Christendom.  Very few of the staff have any experience in the work they're doing; they're expected to learn on the job.  The faculty are better, but sometimes they're stuck teaching something other than what their degree is in.  When anyone criticizes, we are reminded that they are "doing their best," which of course they are, given their experience, and that the critics are just too picky and want a ton of unnecessary paperwork.  They are, as far as I know, the only Catholic college in the country that doesn't take federal student aid, which they say is to avoid government bureaucracy.  There isn't any specific case of overreach they're worried about, they just think that theoretically, the government might oppress them someday.  And anyway it's just a lot of paperwork, which would take up their time and make things harder for them.  But really, what it seems to me is that they aren't really equipped to raise the college to the standard other colleges meet.  It's hard enough for them to renew their accreditation each year.

With all that, it's unsurprising to me what the article reveals -- that it took months for them to handle Adele's case, that they never made any proactive move to keep her attacker away from her, and that there doesn't seem to be anybody whose job it was to help Adele through the process.  All her support seems to have come from professors, whose job is certainly is not (though thank goodness they were there, and willing, when Student Life's main concern seems to have been liability).

Next, they're overly concerned with appearances.  I can think of no better example than the Commons: piazza with fountain at the front, stench of raw sewage in the back.  I don't know why the septic tank overflows back there, but it's been doing it since 2004 at least.  Currently the college is fundraising to build a giant new chapel with a steeple high enough to be seen from the freeway.  It's going to cost 13 million, which they don't have yet, but they're breaking ground on it already.  That's the priority - to be a city on a hill, to somehow be a beacon that will lead those poor benighted townies to become Catholic, or something.  Not to fix the septic tank or the mold in the dorms.

And that attitude is out in spades right now.  The alumni facebook group booted me out, and eventually purged all the threads that were critical of the college.  For awhile this was their group description:

Current students are flooding Simcha's comments section with supportive, if irrelevant, comments about how they've never been raped and feel very safe.  Others are screaming and yelling, on facebook and in person, about how saying bad things about the college will destroy it, and since it's doing good, everyone is morally obligated to be positive about it instead.  Nothing they've done has reminded me of Regnum Christi so much as this has.  It's a sort of reflexive defensiveness that circles the wagons and calls anyone who thinks things could change an enemy with an ax to grind -- someone who should be opposed at all costs.

When the Northern Virginia Daily picked up the story, the president of the college didn't call him back.  Another administrator gave a comment, but a misleading one, claiming Title IX prevented him from commenting on how many rape cases Christendom has dealt with.  In fact, Title IX would require the college to make that information publicly available -- if Christendom were subject to it, which it's not.  At every turn, the college has misled or obfuscated what's really going on.  Anything to protect Christendom's reputation.

Last of all, Christendom tries to control the students in the hopes of forcing them to be moral.  The PDA policy is an example of this.  They hope that if they keep students from holding hands, they'll never have sex.  But in reality, all it does is force couples off campus, where it's even harder for horny teenagers to avoid having sex.  And that has led to some unsafe circumstances, of course.  A girl is a lot safer kissing in the quad than she is kissing in a dark backseat in a national park.  But the response of many has been to blame the victims for breaking the rules in the first place.  If they hadn't kissed, if they hadn't gone off campus, this wouldn't have happened!  Well, sure.  But how would Christendom boast of its many Catholic weddings if students never kissed each other?

Actual marketing material

The college likes to say they are helping parents, or that they take the role of parents.  They make sure you don't kiss your boyfriend, they make you clean your room, they check that you're in by midnight.  This reassures parents and makes them feel they're doing what they can to make students moral.  But it gives the lie to any statements they later make that they're not responsible for what happens because the students are adults.  That's not what they were advertising.  They were advertising that Christendom would be safe like other places aren't safe.  And students believe they are safe.  The college is doing nothing to help students act like adults.  Female students believe that it's safe, and all their male classmates are trustworthy.  From the comments on Simcha's blog:

"As to the men on this campus, I found the best friends of my entire life and know that they would do everything to protect and guard me as a woman. I am preparing for my Rome semester now and I have talking to many of the guys I will be going with and I know that they will be escorting us home each and every night. I trust them completely that they would never hurt me in that way, no matter the circumstances or if drinking was involved."

"As many of the girls here have stated, we all feel safe walking around campus alone at night. I take walks alone fairly often in the middle of the night to think and be alone, and I have never once felt unsafe in any way."

"In the past, I lived across the street from campus, and many nights it would be dark when I returned to my dorm. But I never felt afraid walking back in the dark. Why? Because whether it was the girls or the guys, there was always someone who would walk back with me at night."

"I have experienced the frustration of not being allowed to have my boyfriend hang out in my dorm with my when he visits me, and instead we have had to be creative with where we go to spend one together, but for all the times we have taken walks in the woods or have gone to Skyline to sit and talk without being with others, I have never once been afraid of my boyfriend taking advantage of me."

These comments are sweet, but they're really naive.  They could get raped doing these things, and if they did, I know some of the staff and alumni would blame them for it because they "should have known."  But they don't know--they see Christendom men as their protectors, and not as threats.  The college doesn't do anything to change this view.

I didn't mention the sexism, because it runs deep and would take a whole other post to describe it.  And many Catholics wouldn't notice it anyway, because they're used to that kind of thing.  You know--90% male leadership and professors, women encouraged to see themselves mainly as future mothers, women expected to take responsibility for men's chastity.  I do think this mindset contributes to women blaming themselves for their rapes and telling no one lest they be seen as "ruined."  But I think I'll leave it alone for now.

Anyway, going over all this in my mind, and clearly seeing how Christendom is unprepared to deal with sexual violence, even though it's made an effort to change, makes me wonder where to go from here.  I don't want the college to shut down; it was a happy place for me and I know people who are there right now and love it.  I'm not opposed to the president stepping down, because he certainly had a role in this, but I don't think that would solve the problem, because these problems pervade the whole institution.  But I finally found out one thing that would help: Title IX.  I've been reading up on the things it requires, and all of these are changes Christendom should make.  Take a look at some of these, none of which the college follows:

"Under the Campus SaVE provisions of the Clery Act, all schools are legally required to provide prevention education to first-year students and include information on students’ reporting options and resources. But research shows that a single session during orientation isn’t good enough. Your school should require continuous, comprehensive, in-person prevention education for everyone on campus.
That includes first-year students, transfers, graduate students, professors, and staff. Effective consent education must be skills-based and interactive (rather than merely informational), inclusive, and community-based. "

"Your school should guarantee that survivors have access to counseling and medical attention in a timely manner and without having to file a formal complaint. Medical care, including mental healthcare, should be provided at no cost to the survivor—the high cost of counseling can preclude people from accessing it, with significant psychological and educational consequences. If a survivor requires a remedy in order to access an equitable education, their school should provide that remedy at no cost to the victim."

"All decision-makers, including (but not limited to) members of any adjudication panel (if your school has one), sanctioning officers, appeals officers, and case managers should be impartial individuals with training in sexual and domestic violence. University administrators such as deans of student life or academic advisors generally lack the knowledge necessary to effectively adjudicate these cases and their stake in protecting the school’s public image suggests a conflict of interest; we do not believe they are appropriate decision-makers in this context.
Both parties should have the opportunity to challenge investigators, case managers, and decision-makers involved in the hearings, sanctioning, or appeals process. If anyone in those positions has a relationship with the accused student or victim, they should be removed from roles in the disciplinary process."

All schools should use the preponderance of the evidence (otherwise known as “more likely than not”) standard for adjudicating complaints. The preponderance of the evidence is the standard used to adjudicate civil rights cases in court. Since Title IX is a civil rights law that exists to protect each student’s right to an education free from harassment and violence, the preponderance of the evidence standard is the most equitable and appropriate standard. Schools should not use a different standard, such as “clear and convincing” or “beyond a reasonable doubt”.
All policies should explicitly state that a survivor’s dress and past sexual history is irrelevant to the investigation and outcome, and will be excluded from evidence.
A respondent’s past findings of responsibility (whether in civil, criminal, or university disciplinary records) should be included as evidence at sanctioning.
Your school should guarantee that survivors have equal opportunity to present evidence and witnesses, should develop a clear procedure for both parties to present evidence and witnesses, and shouldn’t deviate from that established procedure without a compelling reason.
Your school should interview all available witnesses with relevant information. If your school declines or fails to interview a witness suggested by either party, they should provide an explanation to the party in writing.
Both parties should have equal access to available evidence in their case file and should have sufficient time for them and their attorneys to review it before a hearing."

"Qualified Investigators — It takes years of specialized training (not just a few hours) to fully understand the complicated dimensions of gender-based violence. Reports must be investigated by impartial individuals with extensive professional expertise in gender-based violence to ensure they are effective, professional, and trauma-informed.
Case Managers — Schools should provide survivors who report with a qualified case manager, someone they can contact whenever they have questions about the process and who is responsible for keeping them up-to-date about any developments, helping them secure accommodations and interim measures, and preventing retaliation. At many schools, survivors and accused students will be given the same case manager, which can make many survivors (and accused students) uncomfortable, deterring them from coming forward. Your school should guarantee that survivors and perpetrators will never have the same case managers.
Survivors’ Stories — Investigations (and hearings) should be designed to limit the number of times survivors must re-describe the incident to as few individuals as is practicable.
Timely Investigations — Schools must conduct the major stages of investigations and grievance procedures in a reasonably prompt timeframe. The ideal timeframe is about 60 days, depending on the complexity of the case."

"While colleges cannot publicly release the sanctions given to a specific, named individual [because sanctions are considered an “educational record” protected by the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act (FERPA)], they can and should publish aggregate statistics so that students, parents, and alums can hold schools accountable for their responses.
Your school should publish aggregate statistics showing, at a minimum:
how many cases are reported;
how many survivors were denied accommodations that they requested;
how long, on average, cases remained open;
how many students were found responsible; and
how students found responsible were sanctioned.
Your school might claim that publishing this data is a violation of FERPA, but it’s not. In fact, the Department of Education under the Obama Administration has required many colleges found in violation of Title IX to publish this information."

Christendom is exempt from Title IX because it doesn't take federal money.  But in my opinion, it needs to become compliant anyway.  Best of all would be if it accepted federal money like other colleges do--that would lift the burden on alumni of having to pay Christendom's loans, which are at 10% and must be paid back within six years.  And this would finally give students a legal right to complain at the college's blundering response to sexual assault.  But if it doesn't do this, it should at least independently become compliant with these standards.

In my opinion, that's the college's only hope of surviving with its reputation as an excellent, safe Catholic option intact.  If they insist on staying as they are, they're likely to shrink down into a smaller and smaller student body as reasonable parents don't send their kids there.  We've seen other Catholic colleges, like Southern Catholic College, take this spiral before.

But if Christendom bites the dust, it won't be Adele's fault or Simcha's fault.  It will be the fault of an administration that refuses to be professional, transparent, and respectful of its adult students.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

New year, new hair

This year, I hope to focus on my own needs and wants a little bit more.  So it seemed right to start out with a symbolic action -- one that took both self-value and courage.  That's right: I finally dyed my hair.

I settled on blue, since it's a color that never fails to look good on me.  With dye, it can be hard to say exactly what shade you're going to get, but every shade from turquoise to periwinkle is in my wardrobe and flatters me fine.  Orange or red would be much riskier ventures.  I didn't want to do my whole head blue, because that was too big a step; I wanted some of my familiar color to reassure myself that it was still me.  So my plan was to do something like this: 


That is, I wanted to dye the underlayers of my hair blue, and keep the rest blond.  It would be subtle.  I wanted to ease myself into the whole hair-dye experience.

But I did decided to just slightly, very subtly lighten my whole head, because my hair color is kind of a dark blond and I worried the blue would look muddy and the blond parts would clash with the blue.  

Well, um ... it turns out that bleach is very difficult to do.  Even after reading pages and pages of advice, nobody really could tell me how much bleach it would take to lighten dark blond to light blond, or how long to leave it in.  In retrospect, what I should have done was buy twice the "developer" -- the liquid part -- and only half the bleach, because I have a lot of hair to lighten and there isn't any way to put the liquid in thinly.  It goes in, or it does not go in.  Even with a friend to help me, it was a struggle.  Comb through the bleach to the ends?  My hair did not comb, it snarled and stuck to itself.  Apply close to the scalp but not touching the scalp?  Not exactly sure how anybody is supposed to manage that.

Then, of course, we waited and waited and it wasn't getting lighter at all, and then suddenly it was yellow.  And it was only at that point that it because apparent that some of the hair hadn't really gotten any bleach at all.

That's not a shadow, there.  That's the actual stripe I had.

So I got the bottle and squeezed out what drops there were left, to cover the dark area.  Left for half an hour, rinsed it out, saw there were now more unusually-shaped dark areas, and did yet another spot treatment.  And it still didn't look super.  If I kept it parted exactly where it had been, and the light wasn't great, I just looked like a bottle-blonde with overbleached hair.  If I pulled the hair back at all, it looked straight-up ridiculous.

So that's when I made up my mind that some of the front hair was going to have to be blue as well.  Put a blue stripe through that mess, and the yellow and brown patches would be a lot less noticeable.

I did the blue by myself, and luckily it went into my hair a lot more easily than the bleach had.  Which still wasn't easy--hair really resists having stuff put into it, as it happens.  You can put stuff on the outside of a hank of hair, but if you pry the hank apart, you see the dye didn't reach the middle.  In the end the technique that worked for me was to squeeze the dye onto an old toothbrush and comb it through a very small chunk of hair at a time.

The articles I read said to be very careful not to get it on your skin, to wear gloves, to set the bottle down on newspaper, and so on.  Turns out even if you're careful, it's a lost cause.  I got blue a lot of places.  Comet got most of that off the floor, and as for my arm and neck and right ear ... well, it's starting to fade.

Here's me, very worried it won't look good:

Rinsing it out was difficult too.  They say to use cold water, but I didn't want to do it in the kitchen sink (because I didn't want to turn all the dishes in there blue, or wash them either) which meant a freezing shower.  At first my entire body turned faintly blue and corpselike from the runoff.  And the blue strands bled onto the blond strands, so now I have three colors: blue, pale blue, and yellow.  It was just as well.  That yellow color isn't attractive and the light blue is much nicer.  I kind of want to do the rest of my head in light blue, if not now, maybe when this batch fades.

I don't know if I was supposed to keep rinsing till it ran clear, but it just kept coming out blue, so after awhile I just quit and dried it off.  But I have been warned it'll bleed every time I wash it, and to use an old towel.

Once it started to dry, the color began to show up a lot better.  It looked ... well ... it looked GOOD!  Which came as a shock to me, given the horrible-looking stages I went through to get here.

Mostly the underlayers aren't visible; I'm glad I did the front too, or nobody would even notice it was blue.  I had worried bright color near my face would wash me out, but I don't think it does. 

The dye I used was Splat! Blue Envy, which includes the bleach kit.  I love the color, and it's supposed to last through 30 washes.  Though if you have darker hair, I'd suggest going with one of that brand's colors intended for brunettes.  That way you don't have to deal with the difficult bleaching process.  I can say for myself, if I ever need my hair bleached again, I'm going to a pro.  I'm happy to touch up the color myself, but since bleach is permanent, I'd rather have someone else do it.

Every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I see the blue and feel happy and proud.   Happy to have color in my life--and proud I had the guts to FINALLY do it.
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