independence

PotD  /  Social Commentary
Getting By With A Little Help
November 17, 2015
charles i. letbetter - getting by with a little help

But what we can do, as flawed as we are, is still see God in other people, and do our best to help them find their own grace. That’s what I strive to do, that’s what I pray to do every day.—Barack Obama

charles i. letbetter - getting by with a little help

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]The cane sits close to my desk, just in case I need the help. I hate the damn thing. I hate the sight of it, and even more the fact that I should probably use it more than I do. Rain will force me to use it today, I already know. Tomorrow may be another such day as well. With winter beginning to set in, the days when I need the help are going to begin outnumbering the days I don’t. I am somewhat pissed off by the knowledge there are 80-year-old men out running marathons while I can’t get down the hall to the bathroom without assistance.

I never have liked asking for help. Somewhere in my head, for some reason, me asking for help is a sign of weakness. I don’t mind others asking for help when they need it, though I am slightly annoyed when a certain five-year-old asks for help tying her shoes when she’s yet to try for herself. I don’t want to ask anyone for help and I don’t like so often being in a position of needing help that, at times, it feels as though I can’t do anything without some form of assistance. Losing any bit of my independence strikes deep at my soul, leads to depression and questioning my own value in the world. I have quite possibly thrown my cane across the floor in frustration.

Yet, here I am again this morning, needing to lean on something, or someone. I woke up this morning barely able to move. Independence is a myth. I’ve become reliant on Kat and some days when she has to be gone for prolonged periods I often limit my own activities for fear that, should something happen, there’s no one here to help (the cats are absolutely no help at all). When I go for a walk, I have to make sure my phone is well charged in case I should fall, become lost or confused, or need a ride home.

I never expected to have these limitations at this age and it angers me to no end that I can’t keep up with everyone else on the planet. Needing help, even from an inanimate object totally under my control, is emotionally deflating.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]I am one of the lucky ones. Despite my challenges, I have always known that someone has had my back; friends who have made sure I had something to eat, that drove me to doctors appointments, and kept a roof over my head. Not everyone is so fortunate. Nearly four million people in the United States will experience homelessness this year. Of those, almost 60 thousand of those are veterans; 1.3 million are children.  They’re just out there, on their own, struggling to exist.

The second stanza of the poem on the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor reads:

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

At this very moment, there are 10,000 Syrian refugees, and more from other war-torn countries, waiting at our shore, looking for help. Yet, because of the cowardly actions of a handful of Daesh morons, there are many of us wanting to hide behind a wall of fear and not let them in. We would rather let them starve or die of hypothermia than accept the risk that comes with being compassionate.

If America has become this country who is afraid too afraid of the shadow of terrorism to keep the refugees of that terrorism alive, then we have lost every last shred of our independence; our fear cripples us just as severely as arthritis in my back and legs. I have a cane on which I can lean, and friends ready to help. The millions homeless and those fleeing terror need help as well. The time has come to step up and be that help.[/one_half_last]

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PotD
Independence For Myself
July 4, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

Princess (2011)

“I think it’s neat you do what you want. Not enough chicks do that, if you ask me–just tell society and their expectations to go fuck themselves. If more women did that, we’d be better off.”― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Independence Day. As a country, we are very loud, very proud, and nothing short of ostentatious in proclaiming the anniversary of our nation’s birth. I’m not sure any other country in the world is quite as over-the-top in their celebrations as are we. I’m okay with the annual pomposity to a large degree. Yes, we have a multitude of problems and we’re damn sure a long way from perfect, but that the wheels have yet to come flying off this experimental bus is, in the perspective of political history, quite amazing. So yes, let’s celebrate what we have that separates us from other countries on the planet.

Equally important, though, is that we celebrate our own independence, who we are as individuals and what separates me from you and you from the rest of the pack. We are taught that, at the most basic genetic level, no two people are alike. Yet, we still struggle to differentiate ourselves, men from other men, women from other women, photographers from other photographers, clowns from Republican Presidential candidates (I’m sorry, that last statement really is insulting to clowns and I hope they’ll forgive me). Our world is so overcrowded that it is difficult to find our own voice in an environment where too often we can’t even hear ourselves think.

We also have to face the danger that in our effort to separate ourselves from the pack we lose sight of the fact we are all still human. For all our talk about individuality, there are still some aspects of our existence where we must join together and act as a unit, putting all our differences aside.  We do this to protect our common good, provide for the general welfare, and to secure the liberty we hold so dear. When we become so separate as to not participate in the necessary aspects of humanity, we sacrifice not only our independence but our common brotherhood. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Anytime we declare independence on any level, we have to realize that we are bucking a system that would prefer we all be homogenous, follow the rules, and do what we’re told. Just as the British fought back against the colonists, we often find ourselves at war to establish our own rightful place in the world. Sometimes that battle is against tradition, values and belief systems that have been handed down from generation to generation. Others fight against strong biases that say, “you can’t ….” Still others end up fighting against their own family when they choose to do or be something that no one in the family has done or been ever before. Fathers scold sons. Mothers chastise daughters. Honor is questioned.

I’ve known more than a few people who had to strike out on their own at an early age, leaving behind what barely passed as a family in an effort to somehow survive the conditions into which they had been unceremoniously dumped. Crack babies can grow up to graduate college with honors. Abandoned children who were almost twelve years old before they found out food was supposed to be hot went on to become strong, solid, caring individuals. A young man whose father was murdered in a drug deal goes on to be a successful entrepreneur. A little girl who was told she’d never amount to anything becomes CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Independence. Mine. Yours. Some wear it in their hearts. Others wear it on their skin. No matter how your independence evolved or how it presents itself now, that do-or-die individuality within you is worth celebrating. Go ahead, light a sparkler or two, set off a brightly colored rocket, or put a match to a string of firecrackers. Celebrate our Independence. Celebrate your Independence. As different as we all are, when it comes right down to it we’re a great country.[/one_half_last]

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Uncategorized
Independence, Done Well
July 3, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

For My Birthday (2012)

“I do as I please, Monsieur Beauchamp, and believe me, what I do is always well done.” ― Alexandre Dumas

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]As you are reading this, chances are I am on my way to Chattanooga to see the boys. Well, at least one of them, maybe. The oldest is happy to be working the holiday weekend. Pvt. Letbetter is taking a short leave with friends in L.A. So, the youngest is, by default, stuck with Dad. This is what happens when children are raised to be independent; they grow up and go do their own thing with their own friends. Maybe they’ll send pictures, if they happen to think about it, but chances are we’ll have to prod them just to make sure they’re still safe. While I’ll miss having the other two around, this is ultimately a good thing. They are exercising their independence and it would be inappropriate to attempt to prevent that.

I never have understood this whole trend toward helicopter parenting; hovering over one’s offspring as though the umbilical cord was still attached. Loving one’s children does not require smothering them with so much of your attention that they become unable to sufficiently function without you. As much as we love our children, we need a break from them and I’m quite sure they welcome not seeing our faces for a few minutes. We want to be accessible when they have a legitimate need for assistance, such as kissing a boo-boo after they’ve face-planted the sidewalk (just as soon as we stop giggling about how funny it looked). We don’t want to shadow them to the point they lose their identity in our desires.

One of the larger playgrounds we frequent with Kat’s little ones is the perfect place for them to run and play without us needing to eyeball them the entire time. They run, they play, they make new friends, and when they’re sufficiently exhausted they come find us. We then tell them to go and play thirty minutes more because we don’t want them getting a second wind on the ride home. This is not just an exercise in independence, this is an exercise in wearing the children out so they’ll fall asleep without two hours of argument. We love going there.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]However, I am always amused by the parents of their peers who never sit down and take advantage of the intelligent way the playground is arranged. They stay right there within arms reach, not letting their child take even the slightest risk, manipulating their peer relationships, and managing their playtime. I’ve noticed these parents don’t stay at the park as long and I can only assume that it’s because they exhaust themselves more than they do their children. Some parents just have an emotional need to be close to their children; I get that. Their children, on the other hand, would probably do much better if mom and dad would back off just an itsy bit every once in a while.

Independence is something into which a child should grow, not something to which they flee out of desperation.  Yes, they are going to make mistakes. Yes, they are going to fall, or get lost, or have heart breaks. How else does one learn how to manage the challenges of life if one’s parents are there rapidly applying salve to every little scrape and preventing them from experiencing the natural consequences of their actions? We’ve seen the adults   those children become and it’s not attractive.

Many of the models with whom we work now are close in age to my own children and I often find myself making comparisons. Were they to be like the model in today’s picture I would be happy; she’s independent, ambitious, knows what she wants and is in control of her future (to the extent anyone can be). Not many people we meet are so impressive. She’s had more than her share of challenges and has weathered them well. She loves her mom, but she’s unquestionably her own person.

Maybe we’ll only see one son this trip. That’s quite alright because we love all three enough to let go and let them become who they need to be. Laws of nature demand baby birds leave the nest and fly.  We just hope they’ll send pictures. That’s independence done well. [/one_half_last]

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pop culture  /  PotD
Friend of a Friend
July 2, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

Dancers (2010)

“And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.” ― Thomas Jefferson

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Social media has evolved very quickly and at this point it is almost easy to forget that a mere seven or eight years ago we were all on MySpace rather than Facebook, loading our profiles with too many things that blinked and photos that were too large and videos that took forever to load. One of the peculiarities of that application which now seems rather absurd was the ability to not only see someone’s friends, but to dig down and see their friends’ friends and even their friends’ friends’ friends. I’m sure the concept in the beginning is that it would help people with similar interest find each other. No one really thought about the stalking aspect, or that employers would actually use that against people.

Yes, you read that correctly. No, I’m not kidding. I saw it happen. I was hanging my photos for an exhibition in a coffee house and a group of three ministers from a nearby church took a table near me and began talking about a fourth colleague, the church’s youth minister. The primary focus of the conversation was that the senior pastor had gone through the youth minister’s list of MySpace friends and then gone through the lists of friends of his top ten friends (creepy, no?). Within that second group, the friends of friends, was found one young man who had posted a photo of himself holding a beer bottle. That was all the senior pastor needed to see. Obviously, by his judgment, the youth minister was not sufficiently careful in whom he befriended and, therefore, must be fired.

I’m not sure what bothered me more: that the pastor would dig so very deeply to try and find an excuse for firing his young minister, or that neither of the other ministers present rose to the youth minister’s defense; they both very quickly agreed with the senior pastor that the youth minister would have to be gone before the next Sunday, which was only two days away. Such shallowness, such cruelty, and such absurd reasoning struck me as not merely non-Christian, but a severe level of Authoritarianism that was not only unreasonable among the clergy but in any employee/employer relationship.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]We tend to think of independence as something defies our need of anyone else. Yet, as Jefferson intoned, we need friends and allies who are equally committed to make our independence actually work. While it is admirable to think and do things for one’s self, realities of life require some network of colleagues or friends, no matter how loose it may be, who might offer assistance when reasonable and necessary. Part of being independent is choosing exactly who it is we wish to have standing with us, and for whom we ourselves might choose to stand.

When I was a child, my parents very carefully chose my playmates for me, cautious to make sure that neither the child nor the child’s parents might prove to be an improper influence. Almost the instance I moved away from home, however, I took no time in expanding my circle of acquaintances to those with whom my parents would not have approved. Over the years, my circle of friends has included witches, drug dealers, shamans, a whole host of LGBTQ people, strippers, prostitutes, and yes, even Irish Catholics. While not all of those ultimately upheld that friendship, a surprising number did and there are still several within that list that I could call for help right now and know they’d come running.

Independence is to not be under the authority of someone else, but it does not exclude the need for friends, and even friends of friends. The test of independence comes not in who we choose as friends, but in our ability to not let our friendship become an encumbrance upon anyone else. Not only must we value our own independence, but that of our friends. Among those with whom we might pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our honor, there are no labels nor any form of moral judgment, for when they are genuinely friends any other title is irrelevant. [/one_half_last]

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PotD  /  Social Commentary
Beyond The Declaration
June 29, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

Patiently Waiting (2011)

“I will not be “famous,” “great.” I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one’s self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Ah, Monday; that point in the week in which boss’s try desperately to pull employees back in from the distractions of the weekend, and last week, to focus on the work that lies ahead, focusing on what needs to be done next. The task is not easy. When such celebration has occurred on so many different fronts the temptation is to try and keep the party going for as long as possible. After all, who doesn’t like a party? Sure, we know one can’t party all the time, but do we really have to go back to work just yet? Can’t the celebration go on just a little bit longer?

Fortunately, there’s Facebook where we can be as shallow and meaningless as humanly possible and therefore totally deny the fact, on a cosmetic level, that there is work to be done. Half my friends have rainbow-fied their profile picture so that, as more than one person has pointed out, my newsfeed looks somewhat like a Skittles™ factory just exploded all over the place. That alone will keep us from ignoring the important strides that were made last week. Everyone jump on the bandwagon, even if you can’t plan an instrument.

Independence doesn’t stop on one event, though, and for many people today is just another Monday. The kids are off to daycare. The car needs a tuneup. Don’t forget to call and make the baby’s six-month appointment with the pediatrician. Sure, Mommy and Mommy may have gotten married over the weekend, but on a practical level the commitment was already there and this morning, well, it’s pretty much back to work. The presence of a ring on a finger doesn’t change the fact that the newlyweds could, in some states, still lose their jobs, be denied seating in a restaurant, or have difficulty adopting. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Independence is an every day declaration that one will not let the world overwhelm them, that one will not allow themselves to be injured by the biases of others, that two steps forward does not then require one step back. While the label on this liberty may be new, the challenges of upholding this Independence are much the same today as they were this time last week. One still has to stand firm, one still has to be defiant in the face of ignorance, and in some states one might even still need to engage in acts of some civil disobedience to simply get their government to abide by the law.

Look at the date on today’s picture. When it was taken in 2011, what they were doing, having a baby as a lesbian couple, was groundbreaking. They couldn’t marry. Their families weren’t necessarily supportive (some members were, others not so much). Society totally shunned them. Healthcare laws worked against them. At that point, less than 15 percent of Americans said they supported equal marriage rights. For couples like this, the freedom gained last week merges with, and perhaps adds some glitter to an independence that has been growing for several years.

Make no mistake, there is a shiny newness to the Independence now available to our LGBTQA friends, but as they claim that Independence that realize that this is just a marker along a journey that is not yet complete. An important marker, to be sure, but just as that Declaration of Independence ignited some difficulties between those new US citizens and King George III, this Independence also faces challenges. Maintaining Independence is often more challenging that its declaration. Welcome to Monday. Time to move forward.[/one_half_last]

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PotD  /  Social Commentary
An Independence Of Your Own
June 28, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

Being In Control (2010). Model: Angela Denton

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I anticipate a lot of talk this week about Independence and what it means. There will be a lot of flag waving, a lot of history (heavily slanted to match one’s opinions), and a lot of chest thumping on the part of Americans. All that is well and good, I suppose. We’re coming into this week all riled up because of everything that happened last week and it probably does us well to take some time and really look at our heritage, the good, the bad, and everything in between. While I’m not sure an honest assessment has ever been possible (the victor writes the history books), to understand why our country was founded and the conditions for that declaration on July 4, 1776 is an obligation we have as citizens. If there’s one thing on which our country is largely united, it is that our Independence is well worth celebrating.

Plus, we really like to blow stuff up. I mean, we REALLY  like to blow stuff up. The bigger, the brighter, the louder, the better. I don’t know how it is where you live, but my neighbors have already started, much to my chagrin. I’m an early riser. These posts don’t write themselves, after all. Being that by 4:30 AM I’m usually up and slinging various curses at whatever piece of furniture upon which I’ve stubbed a toe, I typically can’t help falling asleep around 10:00 each evening. This week, however, my neighbors have taken to random acts of patriotic celebration just a wee bit early. Their timing is perfect; just as I’m about to doze off, BOOM! Blowing stuff up is a time-honored means of celebrating our country’s Independence. Folks get upset when one complains.

We also like to take this time to brag about how great America is and tout all our accomplishments over the past 239 years. Nothing wrong with that, either, though one might argue that the list is getting shorter rather than longer. As the world changes, military and economic powers inevitably come and go in terms of superiority and influence. We do well to be proud of our country, but should be cautious that we don’t allow that pride to blind us to our own shortcomings and the need for continued progress on more issues than I have space to list here. Flying an American flag means little when beneath that flag there are still people starving, homeless, and relegated to second-class citizenship for any reason.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Independence is more than just a national thing, though, and if we’re going to celebrate it we should look as much at the individual side of that word. Personal independence, to not be under the influence or reliant upon external entities of any kind, is something many of us tout, but few actually have. Those who do are often labeled as troublemakers because they don’t follow along blindly with the group, or loners because they don’t have the need to be constantly surrounded by people who agree with them. Independent women, especially, are likely to be insulted, referred to in unkind terms, and outcasts from male-dominated portions of society. She may even be told that she is violating the tenets of her religion. If that woman happens to be a person of color, her independence is likely critical to her survival but be sure she will be criticized at every step for expressing that independence.

By now you are likely asking what any of this has to do with today’s photo. Provocative, isn’t it? I chose this picture because if there is one place where personal independence has exploded it is with our sexuality. We have gone beyond occasional expressions of one inclination or another to fully embracing who we are, who we choose to love, and how we choose to express that love. We have also tossed out the window the reliance on old stereotypes and are beginning to let who and what we are in the bedroom extend to more of our lives outside that space. Look at the picture and you see a young woman who is very much in charge of the moment, exercising her independence in a very personal way.

Personal independence takes many different forms and what is appropriate and necessary for one may not fit another. Independence for a child is being able to go to the restroom on their own. Independence for the elderly may be caring for themselves in their own home. Independence for a wounded warrior may be the ability to stand on prosthetic legs after losing theirs to an improvised exploding device. Independence is being able to exercise the right to vote without unnecessary rules getting in the way. Independence is being able to proudly say I am who I am and no one can tell me to be different. This is the independence worth celebrating. Fireworks optional.[/one_half_last]

 

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