The Reluctant Optimist

Toby

2012-02-04T07:26:00.000-05:00

This is Toby:

Toby is a good dog. We adopted him from a shelter in Syosset, and he is now part of our family. There are many things that we do not know about Toby. We do not know his birthday, his age, why someone left him tied to a tree, what his previous family was like, and why he loves other dogs so darn much. However, there are many things that we do know. We know that he is very sweet, he loves to eat all his food in under 30 seconds, he loves the dog park, he likes balls, and he will always have a home with us.

We also know that Toby loves his big/little brother.

They like to tease each other. When Toby is asleep, Little Man will shout "TOBY!" to wake him up and then run away. When Gabriel is asleep, Toby will bark and try to pull his pillow away from him. They will chase each other around the house, and it is impossible for Little Man to walk past Toby without getting kissed or pressed against the wall in a big Rottweiler hug.

We love our Toby.

The Boys

2012-01-11T20:55:00.000-05:00

Little Man loves the new dog, Toby. However, he is no match for the affection of a growing Rottweiler, so he finds safety on the table.

I love these boys!

It's Getting Closer!

2011-12-17T13:21:00.000-05:00

I know that this picture is blurry, but I still love it. I was a little reluctant to go to Rockefeller center last night as there are constantly large crowds this time of year, but I wanted to show Little Man the big tree, and seeing his excitement made the trip worth it. The tree is up, the stockings are hung, the music of the season is always playing, and there is a lot of love in our little apartment.

The boy loves his Jamba...

2011-12-16T12:14:00.001-05:00

Even on a cold day, he still loves this stuff.

Dessert!

2011-12-10T20:12:00.001-05:00

The Sufi Path

2011-12-09T09:47:00.001-05:00

Reading the “Poem of the Sufi Way” as the final work thissemester, seems the most fitting way to end a course that captured the variedlife experiences of these ancient mystics. From Rabi’a to Ansari, the philosophies and practices of numerous Sufiscame to life in al-Farid’s prose. Fromthis poem al-Farid connects all Sufi fraternities into one great whole; thereis no separation of belief, just separate methods of expression. Perhaps the most compelling stanza in hispoem is found on page 141. Stanza 237reads:

Forafter I fought, I witnessed

that he who made me see,

myguide to me, was me—

me, myown example.

Thefirst line implies a struggle against some force. The opposing force is not defined as eachSufi will encounter their own struggle in their own time. Whether that struggle comes in the form ofpower, wealth, fame, hunger, abuse, or even a lack of faith, each person on theSufi path will only have a witness after they struggle. It would appear that the victory over thestruggle is not the important part, for there is no mention of a win, but theglory is found through the tribulation and not around it. This means that the seeker must come toaccept what is placed before them and not try to avoid it or become somethingthat they are not. The Sufi must notonly accept the world in which they live, but they ought to also forge throughthe obstacles that stand in their way.

The line “that he who made me see,” impliesthe existence of a force outside of oneself that has significant power over theindividual. To force one into seeingsomething that was not already known reveals that the revealer comes frombeyond the realms of the known world. When the seeker acquires the knowledge that can only come from beyondthe known realms, they have transcended into a new sphere of existence. This transcendence is a true religiousexperience as they are now left to interpret the unknown witness into the knownlanguage of those that surround them.

Al-Farid reveals the revealer in thenext line: “my guide to me, was me—“. Thiscaptures the Sufi principle of union between the Creator and thecreations. When one moves beyond theirprofane knowledge into the realm of the sacred, they have joined with thesource of all knowing. This line alsoshows the importance of the individual along the path to attain union with thedivine. While there may be many fraternitiesto join and masters to learn from, the most important teacher to be found alongthe path is the student who wants to learn. This is reinforced with the final line “me, my own example.” No matter what a person may want to learnfrom another further along the Sufi path, there is no greater teacher than thevery student in learning the correct way to travel, for there are manydifferent ways to get to a single destination.

The reason this stanza resonatedwith me more than any other in the poem is because this captures my own personaland religious philosophies more than any other. It is important to learn from others, but they can never be a suitablesubstitute for what I have to teach myself. The union that one seeks to find with the Divine will not be found infollowing the path of others, for the Divine speaks to each in their ownway. The masters who have gone on beforeare great to use as a general template for life’s path, but they ought not tobe used as the only source of knowledge. Why should the Divine communicate to and elevate a person who cannotcommunicate to and elevate themselves? The struggle that each of us face is unique therefore the path we choosemust be unique also. The emphasis on theindividual found in al-Farid’s poem truly embodies the many varied works of theSufi masters who preceded him.

The Project

2011-12-01T08:06:00.001-05:00

A couple weeks ago we finished a project. Little Man has been working on shapes at school, and he had a project to make a shape collage. I thought that the only thing better than making one collage would be making three collages, so we spent the weekend cutting circles, squares, and triangles. Personally, I think these are awesome, but I am a little biased. He was very proud of his work, and he really likes seeing them on the wall at his school.

To Infinity and Beyond!

2011-11-19T15:39:00.001-05:00

We spent our Saturday morning on the M116 to Target. We bought socks, a watch, Buzz Lightyear pajamas, and construction paper to make a collage for Little Man's preschool project. The little one wasn't as excited about his new socks as I was about mine, but he really likes having a watch and awesome jammies (that is why he is wearing them at three in the afternoon).

Today is a good day.

Perfection

2011-11-12T12:58:00.001-05:00

I like her.

A lot.

Halloween!

2011-10-31T18:31:00.001-04:00

Tonight we joined the neighborhood parade and received candy from the firehouse, two restaurants, the frat houses, and the little park next door. The street was closed to traffic, so all the kids could run freely between locations. I have to admit that I actually had a good time... go figure.

As if writing wasn't hard enough...

2011-10-20T20:02:00.001-04:00

I like writing. I don't write as often as I should, but there is something relaxing about finding the right rhythm and letting the words flow.

Sometimes it can be difficult to find that happy place.

Sometimes it is impossible.

This is one of the impossible times. I want/need to write a critique of an author's work detailing their use of binary language to create an argument that forms a symbiotic relationship between God and man, and my Little Man wants to play trains and sing "no more monkeys jumping on the bed."

I don't know what "doctor" he called, but I have a feeling that the prescription is to put the homework aside and be a dad tonight.

Choo-Choo!

Fun Times

2011-10-02T15:14:00.001-04:00

The boy and I went up to Fort Tryon Park this morning, so we could arrive early at the Medieval Festival held there every year. Just a few years ago, I was one of those guys who would laugh at every person that walked through those streets, and in some ways I still laugh at many people there, but now I am a little jealous at the merry men and women who proudly embrace their inner pauper/prince/lord/lady/knight/mage/squire/quidditch player/pirate. They all looked like they were having a great time.

We saw some great duels, pet a few dogs, watched a magician, learned to belly dance, ate a delicious brownie, nibbled an average cookie, had a tantrum, had an extra long timeout, bought a sword, rode the bus, and almost bought a giant turkey leg to share, but the lines were too long.

It was fun, and maybe next year we will dress up--maybe.

Time to Wrestle

2011-10-01T13:43:00.001-04:00

Little Man has been camping this weekend with his mom, and while it has been great to have the bed to myself and sleep past 6:30am, I miss him.

I think that we are going to wrestle this afternoon when he comes home. He gets plenty of hugs and kisses from everyone in his life, so we don't wrestle as a substitute for affection.

We wrestle because it is fun, and I miss my boy!

Bad Mormon

2011-09-22T16:10:00.000-04:00

Last night I had an epiphany: I am a bad Mormon.

The funny thing about this realization is that it doesn't upset me. In fact, I am quite proud of it. This doesn't mean that I do not care about my religion or appreciate the sacred, but it does mean that I am not going to fit into any standard mold that Mormonism has to offer.

I:
have long hair.
like tattoos.
watch R rated movies.
occasionally drink caffeine.
use profanities.
yell at people.
tell dirty jokes.
like gossip.
overeat.
laugh at inappropriate times.
challenge authority.
question the authority of those in authority.
forget to pray sometimes.
strongly believe in equal rights.
don't think humility is the same thing as self-abasement.
don't believe in Hell.
believe there is a fine line between spirituality and schizophrenia
hate wearing white shirts.
buy food on Sunday.

You won't see me on a billboard, holding a hawk in a commercial, or anywhere inside of a church magazine. But you will find me helping a friend move furniture, giving money to the homeless without any dramatic refusal of how "I give to my church," working with the youth Sunday School class as they each travel on their own spiritual paths, teaching my son respect for the Earth and all her inhabitants, smiling at a stranger, standing up for the underdog, and listening to anyone who just wants to be heard.

I may be a bad Mormon, but I am an awesome human, and that is all that matters to me!

Free Book!

2011-09-17T08:27:00.001-04:00

Now the book vendor is giving my kid free stuff. Little Man chose Bert and Erie; that's what I would have picked too.

Breakfast!

2011-09-17T08:13:00.001-04:00

I didn't feel like cooking this morning, so we decided to try a new diner near the bagel shop. We will come back to this place!

A Few Thoughts About Utah

2011-09-10T08:52:00.001-04:00

The Boy and I have been home for a few days now, and I have had plenty of time to rest from our most awesome vacation in Utah. Our days and nights were full of visiting friends and family, eating, playing, driving, going to the zoo, swimming, napping, Wii-ing, and making new friends. The two weeks we were there wasn't enough to see everyone and do everything, but we still had a great time.

While it is nice to be home in NYC, there are many things that I will miss in Salt Lake. I loved watching my son become friends with his cousins. Everyday he would beg for us to return to my sister's house, so he could run outside with her kids. He quickly learned how cool it is to have a giant yard to play in and friends to share it with. He also made friends with the children of my friends. I just sat back and watch them interact, amazed that the bonds of friendship have encompassed the next generation, and I envisioned the many camping trips and vacations spent together in the future when these same children will be the ones causing the trouble and I would have to be the adult.

Del Taco. Certainly New York is known for its restaurants, but I am not a fan of paying large sums of money for a meal. A late night run for some nachos and tacos for under ten dollars makes for a very happy Archie. Another thing that made me very happy was the complete lack of humidity. The Summer sun in Utah is relentless, but the lack of humidity keeps everyone dry and smelling nice. Don't forget about the Summer nights when the sun disappears and the cool breezes provide the perfect environment for evening conversations about life, love, and nachos.

However, there were some experiences in Utah I would prefer to forget. Why is everyone in such a hurry on the freeway? The roads are huge, and the lanes are wide, but most drivers still felt it was important to swerve in and out of traffic while speeding to get to their destination. I know that a number of years ago I was one of those drivers, but now I pause and wonder what I was thinking. What was so important that I was willing to risk the safety of everyone around me, so that I would not be late? I can't remember, but I do know that after a couple of years enduring New York traffic, I am happy traveling at any speed over 30 mph.

Downtown Salt Lake is ugly. I know that many were concerned about revenue and property values around the decaying malls, but knocking down the familiar to build the homogeneous was a very bad idea. It is kind of ironic in a way that the citizens (read LDS Church) in favor of the changes forgot the concept of people returning to the familiar. The malls might have been old and losing stores, but at least people knew the terrain, the fountains, and even the food court. Eventually the shoppers would have returned, but now it feels like walking down the Vegas strip with new buildings that lack any sense of personality.

Another ironic twist to my visit occurred when I saw a number of billboards advertising "food storage" sales. One of the principles behind provident living is for people to manage themselves, not to pay anther company to manage things for them. Paying a company thousands of dollars to stock your basement with six months of food rations and water is like paying an actor to go to church for you--pointless. There may be food on your shelf, and there may be a seat in the pew, but both actions miss the mark.

I got tired of driving, and one must drive a lot to get around town. I have grown accustomed to the subways and buses of New York. Public transit is awesome, but I don't think it will be catching on anytime soon in Utah where urban sprawl is rampant. I may live in a pigeon coop here in the city, but I am pretty confident that I am living a "greener" lifestyle here in this metropolis than most people in Salt Lake.

All in all, I am a little jealous of my family and friends in Utah. They have beautiful scenery, great weather, cheap food, and little traffic. I know that I will be back for many visits and many Summer nights, and there may come a day where I will call Utah home. For now, I am happy to be back in my city where I am blessed to have a job, attend an amazing school, parent a precocious child, and build a very bright future--a very bright future indeed. Of course that is another blog post for another day.

My Crazy Family

2011-09-05T10:20:00.000-04:00

We like to strut our stuff!

The Weary Traveler

2011-09-05T00:32:00.004-04:00

The boy has had a wild vacation and is in need of a lot of rest.

Remember this thing?

2011-08-31T13:38:00.001-04:00

What would Hogle Zoo be without the lion water fountain?

New Friends

2011-08-24T19:59:00.001-04:00

There is something great about seeing the boy bond with his new "brothers." I suppose friendships can carry on to the next generation.

Summer Swimming

2011-08-22T16:23:00.000-04:00

Cousins

2011-08-20T12:11:00.001-04:00

We are spending the morning at Hogle zoo, and the kids are excited for a train ride.

We know how to wait for a plane in style.

2011-08-18T17:46:00.000-04:00

Anything for Amelia!

2011-08-16T18:49:00.001-04:00

Sometimes real men buy doll clothing...

Because Rumi is Just So Freaking Awesome!

2011-08-15T20:25:00.001-04:00

Are you familiar with Rumi? If not, then you ought to be. I won't go on in any detail about the wisdom of this Sufi poet, but I will share one of his poems with you.

You can thank me later...

Bliss—

the instant

spent seated

on the terrace,

me next to you

two forms and

two faces

with just one soul,

me and you

The chatter of birds

the garden’s murmur

flowing

like a fountain of youth

as we stroll

through roses,

me and you

The stars of the firmament, bent low to look over us

Let’s eclipse them, shine like the moon,

me and you

Me and you join,

beyond Me

beyond You

in joy

happy, released from delire and delusion

Me and you, laughing like this,

reach dimensions where celestial birds suck sugary cubes

Magical! me and you, here,

in our corner of earth,

but wafting on airs of Iraq and Khorasan,

me and you

In one form here on earth

in other forms in paradise

eternal, sunk in fields of sugar,

me and you
--Translation by Franklin Lewis

My Summer Vacation

2011-08-12T07:55:00.002-04:00

For a number of reasons, I completed two courses at Columbia this Summer. I took an Art Humanities class, and I thought it was great! For six weeks I would trek up to campus and sit with a lively group of my peers to discuss great works like the Parthenon along with artists like Rembrandt and Pollock. The classes were long as we met twice a week for three hours each session, but I really enjoyed them, and I made some great friends.

Summer continued, and so did my semester. The second six week course consisted of Elementary French Level 2. I thought that this would be a proverbial walk in the park; I was wrong. Meeting four nights a week for two hours each evening, I quickly discovered that I was in over my head. While we had many fun and engaging moments of teasing the professor about French culture, we had many more moments of looking at each other in total confusion. I made some great friends (which is what I love about my school; just about everyone is awesome!) and I learned a little French, but I am very glad that the class is now over.

I suppose my Summer vacation starts now. I have one week left of work, and then the boy and I are heading to Utah to visit with family, and I am most excited for this trip. I have a lot of plans. I want to see my grandparents and listen to their stories. I want to see my niece and nephews and chase them around the yard. I want to eat at Cancun Cafe with my mom. I want to see the many friends that have been so supportive of me. I want to spend a lot of time with a certain girl.

Yes, a lot of time.

You see, I am completely twitterpated and captivated by a really cute girl.

So as I count down these last few days until I can have a real vacation, I am grateful for new friends, old friends, family, food, and new love. Life continues to smile upon me, and I love it!

I Will For You

2011-08-10T17:38:00.002-04:00

I don't like to admit that other people are right, and I am wrong,
but I will for you.

I am not very good at opening my heart and sharing my feelings,
but I will for you.

I have never liked sharing my most delicious cheese dip with other people,
but I will for you.

I don't like leaning on other people for support and strength,
but I will for you.

I never thought that I would let my guard down and let someone get close to me,
but I will for you.

I didn't want to travel down this path again,
but I will
for you.

Something Special

2011-08-02T22:04:00.000-04:00

I received something special in the mail today.

It was a special something from someone special.

And now I am especially happy.

The End

Another Adventure

2011-07-22T16:28:00.000-04:00

I knew that it was going to be a hot Friday here in the city, so the boy and I left early to spend the morning at Coney Island. We had a blast! Between playing in the ocean (actually he only got his feet wet) and having a great lunch at Nathan's, it was a great morning, and we made it home to turn on the air conditioning right before it hit 100 degrees.

We must go back before the Summer is over because there is much more to see and do.

A Lesson Learned

2011-07-18T21:00:00.000-04:00

Several years ago a friend shared this song with me, and recently they have proved it to be true.

You know you who are, but you do not know how much you have helped.

Thank you.

Oh Thank Heaven

2011-07-16T17:51:00.001-04:00

We explored the northern realms of Central Park today. We saw cool arches, a waterfall, cool playgrounds, and hidden streams. After our adventure, we stopped in at 7-11 for a Summer treat of nachos and a slurpee.

We are living the high life!

Fulfilled

2011-07-15T16:39:00.000-04:00

It has been my intention to write a blog about how busy I had been, but I was too busy to write it. During this time of "busy-ness," I came to the realization that everyone is busy, and I wasn't that special for juggling a child, an education, a job, and a dismal social life. As I thought more about what I felt underneath the tired, stressed, and lonely feelings, I found something spectacular--a feeling of fulfillment!

While I had initially focused my attention on the tasks that needed to be completed and my time management, I had missed the changes that were going on inside of me. Over the last several weeks I had the chance to stretch every part of myself, and I like it. Rather than complain about the loss of personal time, I will be grateful for this chance to grow.

During the day I am an employee. I work hard to pay the rent, buy the groceries, and pay Alma Mater her tuition. I finish my job each day with a sore body and sweaty clothes, but I also finish each day knowing that I made an honest dollar. Having spent a lot of time recently as unemployed, I will happily pursue my vocation.

In the evening I am a student. Monday through Thursday I spend two hours a night in class learning French. I spend my lunch break writing flashcards. I study before class as I change into clean clothes, and I study after class as I get into bed. Columbia has high expectations of their foreign language learners, and I hope to make the cut.

Every second that I breathe, I am a father. I think about my little boy when I wake up and wonder what new things he will learn. My heart smiles when I hear his voice on the phone or at the end of my hallway, and while I miss him when he is gone, I love that he is making new friends. My favorite part of the day is listening to him while he rambles on about the people he saw and what car he rode in.

My body is tired, my mind if sore, and my heart is full.

I am not busy, I am blessed.

I am not failing, I am fulfilled.

Lunchtime!

2011-07-09T14:51:00.002-04:00

This week's adventure was to Chinatown! We had a small delay getting there due to an emergency call from work, but we eventually found our way downtown. Little Man made some new friends in the park and enjoyed seeing all of the cool toys on display (every store in the entire neighborhood had the same toys , but we still had to stop at each one to look). We saw live lobsters and crabs, and the merchants even held up a few large fish for him to look at. We had lunch at Wo Hop restaurant, but it was the upstairs one and not the basement which apparently has great reviews. The food still tasted great to us. We found a flashlight for the boy then jumped on a train to come home for a nap.

Fifteen Dollars Worth of Fun

2011-07-01T15:25:00.002-04:00

The boy and I had a great morning in the city. After stretching our legs here in Morningside Heights, we jumped on a bus and went to the American Folk Art Museum. We got in for free with my student id and looked at some really cool quilts. Seeing the different patterns and feeling the amount of dedication put into each one inspired me to learn the craft. It might be some time before I can have the space and energy to learn quilting, but I think that it would be a great hobby.

We ate lunch at the Halal cart right across from the museum and got a platter full of chicken and rice for six dollars. We shared the platter right while enjoying the hordes of people milling around 6th avenue on their lunch breaks. After a small walk up to Central Park, we shared a Cherry Garcia ice cream bar for only four bucks. As I type this I realize that for those outside of NYC it may seem like an expensive treat, but for us, it was cheap and tasty. We ate the ice cream near the carousel and then took a ride afterwards for five dollars. It was a blast!

After that Little Man was showing signs of needing a nap, so we hopped on the bus and enjoyed some cold air on the ride back up to the neighborhood.

Not a bad start to our fourth of July weekend.

I like my street;

2011-06-29T21:23:00.002-04:00

it is a fantastic place to watch the sunset.

The Steps

2011-06-24T15:56:00.001-04:00

Cool people hang on out the steps of Low Library; awesome people hang out on the steps of Low Library with us!

Something Simple

2011-06-20T18:27:00.000-04:00

In an attempt to understand classical art as a form in itself and not as a specific time period, one must determine the most important characteristics belonging to this genre. Perhaps the most important trait is the visualization of the ideal in relation to a mundane life. Taking the ordinary and creating something extraordinary is the quintessential mark of classicism. Symmetry within the work and the use of parallel lines are also dependent qualities of classical art. “Primary Light Group: Red, Green, Blue” by Jo Baer presents a simple representation of classical work that incorporates these three requirements. Through the simple application of paint on canvas, this minimalist painter captures the elegant style of classicism.

Upon first look at Baer’s work, an initial indifference sets in; as with much of minimalist art, the meaning can be overshadowed by the simplicity of the composition. This is art? Anyone can do this! However, with some time to ponder upon the installation of the three panels, the connection to the classical becomes apparent and the importance of the artist’s vision is shown. The ideal is portrayed through the use of color. Though just a small strip of color around the border, the three primary light colors are displayed indicating the importance they play in one’s ability to visualize anything. Red, green, and blue combine in various ways to bring the visual world to life. The three large canvases also hold a symmetrical balance in their composition. Rather than viewing the three pieces as individual works of art, they are brought together in one piece that has no intersecting lines. The use of parallel lines creates a balance similar to many classical works. Finally, the three canvases give the appearance of columns through the use of these parallel lines. Arranged in a horizontal fashion, they become a representation of three columns that provide support to an important roof of the visual spectrum.

Similar to the Parthenon, Baer’s works creates an illusion of openness while maintaining distinct boundaries. The Parthenon with its rows of columns and interior walls portrayed the openness needed to worship, and communicate with, Athena while also setting limits of where the common man could not go. “Primary Light Group” also keeps this balance; the openness of the white canvas allows the imagination to fill in the gap and create new pictures, but the borders are clearly marked by each of the primary colors and black frame—keeping the viewer within certain limits.

Both the Parthenon and “Primary Light Group” attempt to capture the ideal through less than perfect mediums. The Parthenon was built as a house to the goddess Athena. The inherent irony is that common earthly material could be used to create a home for a celestial god exists within its design. Baer’s work is plagued with this same irony; she used pigment based paints of oil and synthetic polymer to capture the image of light. Can light be captured, and can a celestial power be housed on earth? Light and deity as the ideal are attempted to be portrayed in the best forms available to the artists. Despite the imperfections in their portrayals, the Parthenon and “Primary Light Group” both elevate the ideal through simple expression. The concept of “nude but not naked” can be used to describe the white canvas and the sculptures of the meotopes on the Parthenon friezes. While Baer’s canvas may be white, it is not blank. The beauty is found through the portrayal of the ideal form.

The obvious difference between these two classical pieces is that one is a work done on canvas, and the other is an architectural and historical artifact. Comparing the two on this basis alone is an unfair look at classical art since both come from different eras and cultures, but the themes they both present are harmonious. In keeping with one of the main themes, both subjects display great symmetry. Oddly enough, the Parthenon only appears symmetrical through the use of creative design in which there are slight curves in the structure to undo the natural perception of asymmetry that occurs with large scale buildings. The symmetry of the “Primary Light Group” is real and repeated. Each of the three colors has its own canvas that is presented as a square on the wall. This repetition of frames adds to the symmetry of the paintings. Each border becomes a part of the continuous horizontal line while the vertical borders also balance the work.

Not only do the pieces resemble columns, but they also recreate the triglyphs found on the Parthenon’s friezes. Creating a break from the initial understanding of the work, the natural separation between the canvases allows for the viewer to look at the art in a separate way just as the triglyph separated one meotope from another. With precision spacing, Baer’s work becomes a cycle of viewing; just as one could walk around the Parthenon and understand the story told through different angles, “Primary Light Group” also allows for many interpretations. If the three paintings were too close together the individual canvases would blur into one, and if they were spaced too far apart, the sense of connection would be lost.

Although classical art may be seen as an ancient genre, modern artists are still influenced by the core themes that have transcended time. Through an elevation of the ideal, the use of parallel lines, and the symmetrical composition of her work, Jo Baer’s “Primary Light Group: Red, Green, Blue” stands as a great example of classical art in the modern age.

"Just when I thought I was out..."

2011-06-18T06:33:00.000-04:00

I officially started my life in pest control when I was 21. In 2000, I had just returned home from a LDS mission in the Philippines, and I needed a job. I called my uncle and started work the next day. He owned the company that my grandfather had started, and it seemed like a great way to pay for school.

I liked it. It wasn't too hard, and I enjoyed working with my customers. I found satisfaction in helping people get rid of their bug problems and sharing my "bug knowledge." I worked as a technician, manager, owner, and salesman with various companies in various states.

Eventually I wanted to try something new. I was tired of the office politics found in large companies. I was tired of wearing a degrading uniform. I was tired of not being fulfilled in my career. Although I considered being a technician honest work, there were many people who felt I was at the bottom of the social order. Through condescending words, humiliating tasks, and repeated threats, I was constantly reminded of my status. After working nine years as an "exterminator" (I really hate that term) I decided to finish my formal education and start a new path.

I excel in academia. I love attending class, writing papers, learning new thoughts and perspectives, meeting intelligent peers who challenge me in many ways to become a better student. After my acceptance to Columbia, I felt certain that I was a new man and that my technician days were just a stepping stone on the path of life.

But then I needed a job. I searched for seven months to find something, anything, that wasn't pest control. Nothing was offered. With a resume that showed close to eleven years of killing bugs, companies saw me as nothing more than the bug guy. It was not easy looking for a job and explaining to potential employers that I intended to attend school full-time until I graduated. I saw their faces change as they read my resume and came across my history. I needed a job that would value my vast experience, be close to school, allow me to finish my degree, provide health insurance, and still give me the time to be a dad. This was my prayer. This was my intention that I gave to the Universe.

In an attempt to broaden my networking, I talked to my building superintendent last week to see if she knew of any job opportunities within Columbia that I could apply to. She didn't, but she did make another call. She called the pest control company that has the contract for all off-campus University Housing in my neighborhood. They were interested, and I hesitantly sent them my resume because I wasn't too sure that I wanted back into the pest control world. Something amazing happened. Not only were they interested in me, but I was offered a job without a formal interview and started work a few days later based on my experience that they valued. As they have a large contract with Columbia, I am one of four men working full-time here in my neighborhood. They provide health insurance even if I do not work a 40 hour week, and they will schedule all of my work around my classes. I can walk to work, kill some bugs, walk to class, walk back to work, and then walk home at the end of my day to spend time with my boy. They have been great to me. They plan to use me for the "high profile" calls that they get which means that I will get to know some very important members of the Columbia community. With a little luck, I might get a couple of great letters of recommendation for graduate school from some influential people because of this job.

Despite my initial indifference to a life that I thought I had left behind, I was blessed to find a connection that allows me to be a full-time dad and a full-time student. I am grateful for this opportunity. I know that it will not be easy, but I never liked taking the easy road.

Lucky Boy

2011-06-13T09:22:00.001-04:00

People love to give cool things to my son. This morning on our way to the bus stop, we saw the vendor who sells us chicken gyros, and he stopped to buy little man some candy at the newspaper stand. Someone was very happy to get free candy.

I wonder if I can get someone to pay for his college too...

This Is Why We're Hot

2011-06-12T18:38:00.000-04:00

So High

2011-06-08T11:10:00.000-04:00

Hey There

2011-06-07T22:19:00.000-04:00

My Little Son,

Tonight is the first night that you are spending at your mother's house, and I thought that it would be so exciting to have this huge bed all to myself, but I have discovered that I cannot sleep without your little feet kicking my back. I want to write you a small note that might capture some of the feelings that I have during this transition.

If the day comes that you stumble upon this blog, scroll through the archives, and find this post, call me. I don't care what time it is or what I may be doing, call me. There is so much that I want to talk with you about, and I am sure that won't change even to the day you are reading this. You might even remember this day. Do you remember when I took you to the Intrepid museum? I am sure that we went many times while living in NYC, but this time was special. When we were getting the tickets, I lied and told them that you were two, so I wouldn't have to pay the $12 to get you in, and you were quick to shout out "No, I'm not two; I'm three!" I won't lie about your age again. We played in the helicopter and rode the bus singing songs all the way home. Do you remember doing that with me?

There are a few things that I am certain about how you will be as an adult; there are a few things that I wonder about your future, and there are many things that I hope you have learned.

I know that you will have many friends. You have a light inside that people are drawn to. I know this not just because I am a proud dad, but because I watch you interact with everyone you meet. You take the time to look people in the eye and say hello. You smile and wave at the people you see, and they smile back at you. Even the grumpy people on the subway that pretend to ignore you eventually fall under your spell by smiling back at you and telling me that you are special. Not only will you have many friends, but you will be an amazing friend to each and every one. Your talent is found in making each person feel special. You have so much love to share, and I know that you will always find someone to share it with. I know that you will be very smart-- smarter than me or your mom. You learn things so quickly that I often feel inadequate in keeping up with your many questions. I know that you have a fantastic smile. Your smile brings a lasting happiness, and I know that it will never fade.

I wonder what sports you will play. Did you decide that you like baseball more than soccer, or have you taken up track because of your endless energy? What college did you decide to go to? I am sure that you had your pick between Princeton and Columbia, but was there another offer? Did you become a Rhodes scholar? What are you studying? What are you reading right now? Do you take your kids to get ice cream cones during evening walks with them? How tall are you? Do you enjoy camping? Has my obsession with Les Miserables inspired you to read Hugo, or did it push you away? Perhaps what I wonder about most is: was I good dad? Did I give you the right balance of love, discipline, and attention? Did we stay friends?

I hope we did.

I hope that you have had your heart broken, but that you have not broken many hearts. I hope that you have moved around a lot and met many people, but that you have a place to call home. I hope you have learned about forgiveness; not for yourself (although that is important), but that you have learned to forgive others. I hope that you don't hold on to the bad things that have happened to you. I hope that you read "Balow, My Boy" and "Soldier and Dog" to your children at night as they cuddle with you in bed. Do you still have that same book I read to you from? I hope that you are safe. I hope that you know that my door and my heart is always open to you.

I love you, son.

Call me.

Dad

ps- you got a funny face!

MoMA

2011-06-03T13:21:00.001-04:00

This morning we visited the Museum of Modern Art and then walked around midtown seeing Rockefeller Center, Times Square, four Elmo street performers, two Cookie Monsters, one Woody, and one Buzz Lightyear.

Cooling Off

2011-06-01T16:41:00.001-04:00

We spent the morning in Central Park. Thank goodness for playgrounds with water features.

Alliteration

2011-05-29T15:18:00.000-04:00

A superb Sunday in the Summer starts by sharing a Slurpee with my son on a shaky subway.

I like We

2011-05-25T10:14:00.002-04:00

Before I was a We, I was Me.

I was smart. I was fun. I liked adventures. I always had a smile. I, as Me, was awesome!

After some time I met another, and I became We. We were smarter than Me because two is better than one. Two quickly became three, and We had a lot of fun. We had many adventures. We had many reasons to smile.

Now I am Me again; this does not make Me sad. A part of We will always be with Me. We brought Me to where I am right now, and I like Me.

When the time is right, I will meet another soul to share my life with, and until I am a We again, I will be the most awesome Me that I can possibly be.

He Likes It!

2011-05-19T19:34:00.001-04:00

It feels great to not hear the little one complain about this dinner; he even ate the broccoli.

So Cool

2011-05-17T10:21:00.000-04:00

Not only does he play the guitar, he wears his shades inside.

This kid has moves I can only dream of.

Changes

2011-05-14T19:33:00.000-04:00

In the next few weeks, there will be a few major changes in my life. Gabriel's mom, my spouse for the last four years, is moving out of our apartment, and we will start the divorce process. Big news. Sad news. You may be asking at this point why I am choosing to blog about this in a public forum, and the answer is simple: writing not only helps me understand my own feelings, but this method also allows me to share my thoughts and wishes with many friends and family in a simple way.

For those that know us, you understand that we do not live in Camelot, nor have we ever pretended to be anything other than we were. We, like so many other couples, have had our ups and downs. This is not a sudden choice based off of a single act but the realization of what is best for our son and each other. I want Gabe's mom to be happy-- period. We will continue to be friends and parents to our precocious child. I will forever be grateful to her for showing me the Academic world in which I excel and for bringing our son into the world, who makes me smile every day.

You may have noticed that I refer to my spouse as Gabe's mom. This is intentional; I don't want to use the term "Ex-wife" in describing my future relationship with her. She is the mother of my son, and he loves her. It is important that he sees a high level respect from me, and I feel that overusing the term "Ex" dehumanizes the individual and leads to cutting comments and bad gossip. My son deserves better, and I want him to be nurtured in an environment free of aggression towards his parents.

For those wanting to reach out, I am offering a list of ways to ease this change for all of us.

Don't say "I told you so." Really. Not only is a statement like that distasteful in the first place, it is not the kind of energy that I want to be around or associate with. We all need to heal, and I ask for respect and love instead of spite and nay-saying. Positive thoughts and words will foster a healthier stage for all of us to deal with this major change.

Don't add any fuel to the fire. Don't ask for any specific details about my marriage from me or offer any gossip. It will not make me feel better, and I do not want to expose my shortcomings as entertainment. (See the previous paragraph about positive loving energy)

Don't point fingers or ask someone else to. Marriage, as with everything in life, is complicated. I wish there was a simple answer to explain it all to me, but there isn't. Rather than dwell on what went wrong in my relationship, I want to grow into a better person. The "blame game" is not productive and only leads to bitterness. Don't enable me to become stuck in a rut. I need to move on.

Call me. I know that I am horrible at answering my phone, and I will work on that. I haven't had any happy news for some time, and I felt that no one would want to listen to me, but I want to be a friend again.

Forgive me for hiding for so long. I have been a bad friend. I am sorry. Give me another shot at friendship. I miss you, and I could use your friendship again right now. (This applies to many, many people)

Message me. I am great at returning emails, and I am somewhat proficient at returning facebook messages. Keep in touch and let me know about happy things in your life. Sharing your happiness with me makes me smile, and I like to smile. Please don't hesitate in shining your sun in my direction.

Love my son. This is the most important thing that you can do. If you live near us, and you see him, give him a big hug and tell him what a wonderful child he is. If you live farther away, keep him in your thoughts/prayers/meditations. He will be the one to experience the most change, and while I know that he is excited to have two homes, I worry about him. I want him to have the best in life. I feel like I have failed him with this change, but I know that he is better off having parents who are friends rather than having parents that cannot talk to each other from years of fighting. He is a beautiful child, deserving of the purest love you can give.

Respect his mother. I do not want Gabe to be torn apart in the middle of this divorce. If you cannot be kind and respectful of his mom, then you do not need to be a part of his life or mine.

Find me a couple roommates! I will have a three bedroom apartment in Manhattan that will soon have two empty rooms. The rooms are cheaply priced, so that I can get the right people to live with me. If you are going to Columbia or just want to live in Morningside Heights, message me and we will talk. I want to make some new friends and get involved in my own life again, so help me create an awesome apartment.

Buy me a motorcycle. This is a long shot, but if you are sitting on some extra money and can't think of how to be supportive, I want to get back on a bike soon!

I am not expecting the next few moths to be easy, but I am full of hope in starting this new chapter of my life and excited about the diverse possibilities. Although this is not the reality that I had dreamed about, I know that we are taking the right steps to a happier life for all three of us.

Scoot Scoot

2011-05-12T10:34:00.000-04:00

We are learning to be nicer to the other kids at the playpark. When I say we, I really mean me. Little Man is happy to walk in circles and wave at everyone, but I don't have the patience for mean older kids. Rather than stare the bullies down until they hide in a corner, I walked up to them with Little Man and assured him that he could play with the unoccupied toys no matter what the older kids said. I may not be able to fix other kids, but I will try my best to give my son the confidence to not be upset by their antics.

Fire Engine

2011-05-07T21:35:00.001-04:00

The kind firemen next door let Little Man climb behind the wheel this evening and take the engine for a spin.

What a lucky boy!

Adventure in Central Park

2011-05-06T08:37:00.002-04:00

Yesterday Little Man and I went to Central Park to find a new playground, and we found a great one. Hecksher Playground is close to Columbus Circle, and it is heaven for a young climber. With castle walls to climb and bridges to run over, we had a party. We will go back on a warmer day because they even have a water feature that looks even more fun.

Gabe, in true form, made many friends. One young girl followed him everywhere and yelled at any other kid who got too close to him. This park was filled with young men practicing their parkour moves, and some of them were actually pretty good. When they walked by, Gabriel said hello and waved while other kids run away from the teens. I don't know how he does it, but people just gravitate to him. I feel blessed to be his dad and spend time with him everyday.

Friend Projects

2011-04-30T13:40:00.000-04:00

Little Man and I went to Times Square this morning to do a Flat Stanley project for a friend. We saw Elmo, Cookie Monster, and SpongeBob SquarePants hustling for some tips.

For some reason my kid loves this place more than any other park, museum, or tourist trap. He says hello to just about everyone we walk past and joyfully squeals at the lights. I am liking the place more and more. It is free to just sit and people watch, and it is only a few minutes away on the 1 train.

Sometimes it is fun being a tourist!

The Finished Product

2011-04-23T18:09:00.002-04:00

Ta-daaa!

We are short one egg because Mr. Turd Ferguson thought that they ought to be opened before dyed. I blame myself for leaving the carton in front of him while prepping the dyes.

Tomorrow should make for a fun morning of hunting eggs and mini peanut-butter cups.

Easter Prep

2011-04-23T17:52:00.001-04:00

Coloring eggs and eating cookies is how we spend our Saturday night.

Rainy Day Play

2011-04-23T12:26:00.002-04:00

Rain sucks, but he still has fun.

I am jealous.

Alternate Side Parking

2011-04-18T11:39:00.001-04:00

While moving the car this morning to avoid getting a ticket, I realized that my son is one part greeter and one part siren.

He cheerfully waved at every car that drove by and had a nice conversation with a traffic cop.

When the street was quiet, he practiced his version of a familiar city sound-- the car alarm.

Music in His Soul

2011-04-14T09:05:00.000-04:00

He likes to sing, and he loves his guitar.

I like it too.

I love my son.

2011-04-14T09:04:00.000-04:00

This morning while listening to Sesame Street music, Little Man asked me if I would be his friend.

I said yes.

Helicopters and Boats

2011-04-09T17:09:00.000-04:00

We spent some time at the South Seaport enjoying the afternoon.

Ferry Ride

2011-04-09T14:20:00.000-04:00

Why do people ride the Staten Island Ferry?

Because it's free.

My Private Chef

2011-04-09T11:53:00.001-04:00

I was fortunate enough to have some homemade bread soup prepared bedside this morning.

Life is good.

The Perfect Quote

2011-04-05T08:41:00.000-04:00

I have been looking for a quote.

A perfect sequence of words, something that captures my current state of being.

Many years ago, I came across a cup of knowledge. I was fascinated by this acquisition and set out in search of more. I found streams and rivers of learning that flowed from the mountains and ponds surrounding me. I was content with this and rested.

After some time, I wanted more and set off again. I found larger rivers and great lakes filled with philosophy, history, science, and mathematics(which I quickly ignored). I thought that I had mastered these rivers and lakes with my sense of exploration as paddle and an inflated ego for my raft.

Leaving behind the comfortable confines of my home, I traveled again thinking of new conquests and discoveries to add to my dominion, and I found the ocean-- the seemingly boundless world of the universe. I am lost among that which I do not know. As I learn something new, I am confronted with the greatness the unknown. Certainly the newly learned lesson is a valuable asset, but it also unveils new realms of my own ignorance. This great divides excites me; there is always a chance to learn and grow. The great ocean of knowledge also discourages me; no matter how much I come to understand, it is nothing compared to all that is left to learn.

I stopped looking for a quote.

A song by James Taylor or a poem by Rumi may capture the realization of my nothingness, but its meaning is so finite that it cannot go further with me. Maybe a line from Shakespeare or an excerpt from Kierkegaard can relate all that I experienced in the past, but it will not cover what I have yet to discover about myself and the world I live in. I was confronted by the irony of my quest: using another's words to describe my path negates my own journey. Perhaps instead of looking for someone else to describe my journey, I ought to be grateful for this realization of my insignificance and keep a happy heart while I continue this wonderful expedition.

My conclusion is that there isn't a perfect quote to capture life, but that it the beauty of existence. If we found perfection, we would stop our progression, and I don't want to stop this adventure.

Baseball and Butler

2011-04-03T11:45:00.002-04:00

In a world where the Ivy-League meets the Big-League, my son conquers all! I don't have much advice to give him when it comes to sports, but he will be ready to give these Columbia chumps a run for their money when he walks through the doors of Butler library as a student in 15 years.

Looking Again

2011-04-03T08:56:00.001-04:00

We went to the Central Park Zoo last March during my Spring Break at school, and I took this picture. For some reason I like it. I might like it because the Snow Leopard is so close to the window yet lost somewhere in private thoughts. I might like it because my son is in it, and I think that he is the greatest kid to ever walk the planet. I might like this photo because as I was taking it, an older gentleman kept blocking my shot because he wanted to get a picture of his own (he is the red blur on the right). This man was also getting agitated by other children who wanted to see the leopard up close and disturb his photo session, and that is when a small gem of universal truth hit me-- don't get caught up in finding perfection, just enjoy the moment.

So I took the photo, and we continued our exploration of the zoo. Looking at this photo again, I understand the lesson I learned. My son isn't looking at this animal searching for some fault that he can criticize; he is enjoying the moment of seeing a beautiful creature in an intimate setting. I still see that red sleeve in the photo and want to get upset with the grumpy man, but I simply shift my focus, and the blemishes disappear. If I spend too much time looking at what I don't like, I will never enjoy the parts that bring me happiness.

I won't always remember this lesson in my daily journey of life, but I try to look at everything twice in hopes of seeing more beauty, wonder, amazement, love, friendship, potential, and divine worth. While I may want to get angry or upset because someone or something hinders my progression, I reevaluate the situation, change my focus, and enjoy the moment.

Slow down and enjoy the ride-- there is a lot to love in this world.

The Good Life

2011-04-01T08:24:00.001-04:00

Frosted Flakes, Sesame Street music, and a happy child are what I need for a great breakfast.

In the Dust of a Little Chair

2011-03-30T07:31:00.000-04:00

Perhaps one of my favorite poets is Eugene Field. As a 19th century American writer, he found his niche after traveling many roads in writing children's poems. One of his most famous works is "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" which is one of our nightly readings. There are two reasons that I can think of as to why his work resonates with me: 1- these were the poems that were read to me as a child; 2- his talent is in taking a larger narrative and writing it in a way that a child can understand.

He died at the age of 45 leaving behind a strong legacy of published work. My favorite poem is "Little Boy Blue" (also known as "Dog and Soldier" to my son) which captures the feelings of loss he experienced upon the death of one of his children. While this is one experience that I pray never to encounter, his words allow me the insight to cherish everyday I have with my child.

LITTLE BOY BLUE
by: Eugene Field (1850-1895)

HE little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
He dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue--
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
Since he kissed them and put them there.

Pretty, right? The delicate nature of this prose tells of the great love we all have for those close to us. As with everything in life, the more I read this poem, the more I understand it on different levels. Upon closer reading, I find that the real sadness of this poem is not found in the loss of a child but in the loss of a dream.

How many of us have had a special wish or goal that was dear to our hearts only to have it whisked away by some other force? Have we loved an idea or possibility so much that when it was gone we stayed in place waiting for it to return? I know that I have. The "ruts" of my life have come from when I think that something I lost is going to come back to me. Whether this lost item is love, a job, an apology, schooling, a friend or even just a reward for hard work, the real sadness isn't in the loss of the object, but in the waiting for its return.

Let me be clear about something-- I am not advocating for a person to "get over" the loss of a child or loved one, for that is a tragedy that I cannot fathom. I assert that we must not allow the dust of life to settle on us while waiting for the arrival of something that is gone. I know that I have lost many years of my life thinking that someone else would discover my talents; I have lost many hours/days/weeks/months in anger thinking that someone else would apologize for what they said or did to me. I have lost time sitting in that proverbial chair dreaming of the good-old-days, and I can never get that time back.

Shake off the dust and climb down from the chair! We cannot go back, but we can determine our future. You see, the real sadness found in "Little Boy Blue" isn't in the description of sorrow felt by the dog and soldier but in their abandonment of their own lives.

I submit that it is never too late, we are never too old, and the time is never better than right now to live.

In Defense of Rebecca Black

2011-03-27T21:54:00.003-04:00

"Friday" you have heard it and laughed at it many times by now. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about, go to this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0 and savor the creation of something you won't forget.

The first time I watched "Friday" (notice this implies that I have watched it many times, and I am listening to it as I type) I was revolted and found humor in the many comments, blogs, videos and posts making fun of this girl. But when I thought about it for a little bit, I started to feel sorry for this girl. Here she is a young aspiring artist with perhaps a little talent who became the laughing stock of the United States when all she was doing was living out a dream. You may want to call her stupid for the simple lyrics and annoying repetition, but I submit that she is not the one with the problem, it is the rest of us that are making fun of her.

How long has the American public complained about the degradation of media and the lack of integrity among pop icons? The entire cast of The Jersey Shore, Paris Hilton, Charlie Sheen have become the standard of American culture, and they are all disgusting. Americans idolize drunkenness, stag films and spousal abuse over the aspirations of a teen. So why does everyone want to hate a young girl who wrote a song and made a video of it? First off, why were you watching a video of a thirteen year old in the first place? Pervert. She might be an idiot(who isn't?), but we are the ones watching her, so what does that make us? Second, were you expecting Whitman or Shakespeare from her? She used the vocabulary she knows. She doesn't claim to be the next Bob Dylan. She didn't sing about getting pregnant, doing drugs, or loving a vampire so much that she can't leave her bedroom. Her song is about something that most Americans talk about incessantly Monday through Thursday-- let's make fun of people who post the days of the week on facebook as if we aren't smart enough to know for ourselves. She is in Junior High, and she has become a lot more famous than me for living out her dream. Give her a break. Third, she owns her work. She isn't some socially awkward deviant behind a computer typing away in attempts to demoralize humanity. Look at the comment section of her video and notice that very few people are using their real names to attack her. She isn't hiding. She wrote a song about how much she enjoys the weekend. It is better than complaining about Monday every Sunday night and Monday morning.

I will tell you something that is stupid. Any American citizen that believes in the Two-Party System of Government. Have you ever voted for someone that you didn't like, but you didn't want the other party to win? Have you turned your back on someone(a third party candidate) that you believed in (Nader, Dean) to vote for someone that could win (Kerry, Gore)? I am an idiot because I do this every 2-4 years (I am too lazy to vote every year). Could you imagine what kind of change would happen if we directed our rage and frustration at our Congressmen/women instead of a young girl?

I am not a member of the Tea Party (if they even have a real party), but I am fed up with people taking the easy way out and making fun of other people instead of working to build them up. Rebecca Black had a dream, she met her goals, and we ought to be proud of her. You don't have to like her, but you should respect her. If you want to make fun of someone, call your Senator/Governor/Mayor because I am pretty confident that at least one of them has done something a lot worse than make a music video about Friday.

This is Who I Am

2011-03-27T08:47:00.001-04:00

I have been thinking about identity a lot the last few month for a number of reasons. Since quitting UPS, I haven't found another job that is suitable to my school schedule, and I am only taking two classes this semester, so that I would have time to interview and accept a position. So for the last three months I have been an unemployed, part-time student, and this is not the identity that I want for myself. This has led me to examine the many facets of my life in order to make sense of this rut that I find myself in.

Starting with the obvious identities, I am a white male. I can't do much about either of these traits because they are my genes. My DNA has determined that this is who I am, but it doesn't determine how I identify myself. I used the term male instead of man simply because I don't like the label of "man." Do I really want to be a man? Depending on what lens is used, manhood can be great(bringing home the proverbial bacon, defender of one's family, leader of the people), but it also has the potential of great harm(wars, rapes, genocides, you get the picture on this one). With the dichotomous nature of this term, I refuse to identify as such.

I am a Mormon. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have found a theology that helps me have a better relationship with the Divine. I relate to a loving God who knows and understands me in a personal way. I was a missionary in the Philippines in my youth, and that remains one of the greatest experiences in my life. There isn't a day since coming home from those Pacific Islands that I don't think about the amazing people I met and the lessons of love and humility I learned from them. But "Mormon" is not my identity. My politics are not those of my church. My philosophy is not fully contained within the teaching of the church, and so the term "Mormon" is extremely limiting to my expression. While it is certainly a part of who I am, it does not encompass the whole, so you will never see me on a commercial where the catch phrase "and I'm a Mormon" sums up my entire life. My faith guides me to the greater identity but does not define it.

I am an Academic-- at least an undergraduate. I love going to school. I cannot express the joy I feel when sitting in class and something "clicks." I am able to make connections between past experiences and scientific theories in behavior or evaluate the nature of language and its ability to create communities through simple words. College is my "Axis Mundi" (a great subject for another blog post) where I have fixed my orientation to understand the world around me. From this center I can separate the spiritual from the secular and grasp the pearls of knowledge that are in every aspect of learning. I study with some of the brightest scholars in the world. They inspire me. Our professors demand perfection, and I always try to deliver the best papers and create the insightful conversations to meet their expectations. The problem with this identity is that it is not guaranteed. I don't have a scholarship; I pay as I go, and at a private college, it is really tough to manage. I would love to attend graduate school, but that seems like a distant dream right now especially with the inability to have perfect grades. I suppose I ought to be happy being an average student at an extraordinary school, but it really messes with my confidence.

I am a worker-- wait, I am unemployed. Next!

I am a husband, but this is way too complicated, so I am skipping this entirely.

I am a dad. This one feels good. Actually, this one feels perfect. I am a dad. This will never change. Catching a slimy, blue baby changed my life forever in one second. I see the world through different eyes, and I imagine the greatest potential in everyone because I am a dad. I feel that it is my duty to defend the defenseless, feed the hungry, and comfort the hurt from the empathy gained in this role. These are things that feel natural, and I enjoy doing them. This doesn't mean that I see myself a father to every person I meet, but it does mean that if I can help you, then I will help you. I am limited, so my assistance will not be perfect, but I will be there for you. If I have it, then you can have it; don't hesitate in asking.

It is funny how small moments can change us in ways that we never fully comprehend, but I am proud to say that this is who I am-- a dad.

Happy Birthday!

2011-03-23T06:29:00.000-04:00

Little Man, three years ago you cuddled with me and changed my life forever. Thank you for letting me be your dad. I know that sometimes it can be tough when I don't let you play all night or eat ice cream for breakfast, but I want you to know that you are the greatest son in the world!

Let's play trains, read poems, chase birds, and explore the world, for today is your day, and I love seeing life through your perfect eyes.

Love,
Dad

ps- "Balow, my boy!"

God of the Gaps

2011-03-22T07:47:00.000-04:00

Within the philosophies of religion, there is a concept known as the God of the gaps. This is in reference to the cultural use of a god, goddess, or multiple gods to describe natural phenomena beyond the scope of human understanding. An example of this concept is found in ancient, and not so ancient, beliefs that were attributed to God, but later explained by science. The sun does not revolve around the Earth; God does not make the sun rise every morning. The Earth is set in its rotation around the sun while spinning on its own axis. Lightning and thunder are not forms of the wrath of God, but they are the result of positive and negative ions creating a strong charge in the atmosphere, and the sound waves resulting from the bolt. I might have botched that explanation of lightning, but I think you understand the idea-- God was used as an explanation to that which could not be explained. Think about Thor (my favorite), Zeus, and Ra as actual examples of these gods.

Now that our science has slightly advanced beyond the primitive notions of the past, valid arguments are formed against the existence of God by claiming the natural world, once understood, proves that God does not exist. If God made the sun rise and we learn that the sun does not move, there must not be a god. If lightning isn't the manifestation of God's anger but simply an electric reaction, there must not be a god. I cannot argue with this logic, but there is another way to look at this concept.

John Polkinghorne, a physicist and theologian, made an interesting comment on the NPR broadcast "Being" with Krista Tippett. He skilfully explained that if God works through nature, and that by understanding the scientific world we learn more truth, then we are learning more about the nature of God. God might not hurl the lightning bolt, but He created a universe where atoms were allowed to act according to their nature. (I will save the commentary about the nature of God for another day because that gets complicated.)

I like Polkinghorne's view. Perhaps it just appeals to the optimist within, but I find comfort in learning about the nature of God by observing the world around me. After all, it is a choice to believe or not believe, and I choose to believe in God.

The Secret of Life

2011-03-21T06:40:00.001-04:00

I woke up this morning with a great song in my head; "The Secret of Life" by James Taylor is a happy reminder to enjoy every day we have. He sings: "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time." I don't think that it can get any easier than that.

We can't stop time, so we might as well enjoy it. Despite the many things in life that I want to change, today I am grateful for a warm home that keeps my family safe, a son that never stops smiling, and an able mind to appreciate that great gifts my Creator has given me.

Today is a beautiful day!

Grand Central Station

2011-03-19T11:05:00.001-04:00

For the train lover in all of us...

Pinewood Bust

2011-03-19T10:08:00.000-04:00

We went to the stake center this morning to watch the pinewood derby and quickly left.

We did enjoy the fountain at Lincoln Center though.

A Happy Thought

2011-03-17T06:55:00.001-04:00

What are your favorite memories from childhood? One of mine is traveling with the family. It didn't seem to matter where we were going, but it was fun to pile in the car and just drive. I remember after a couple of hours on the road, I would start to get sleepy, and I would eventually find that perfect position where I could fall asleep to the gentle humming of the engine and roadway.

Now I am a dad and do most of the driving on our little excursions. Approaching the George Washington bridge a few weeks ago after spending the day Upstate, I realized that my little brood had found that "sweet spot" to sleep comfortably in the car. Of course, I would have liked to be the one sleeping, but I couldn't help but smile when I thought of the memories that I am passing down, and that my small family trusted me enough to get them home safely.

This makes me happy.

I know I am not smiling... remember I said the GW bridge... no one smiles while fighting traffic to get on there.

A Pet Peeve

2011-03-16T07:36:00.001-04:00

I have a problem. For the last several months, my time has been filled with school and job applications. Because I am a student, the job offers have been non-existent, and this requires me to fill out more applications. At the end of each application, there is a survey to determine the ethnicity and gender of the applicant that is claimed to not be used in the hiring decision, but it is used to track who applies for jobs and other random nothingness. My problem is the choices they offer me in the gender category: Male or Female. These are not genders; they are sexes.

This may be a moot point for some people who think that the terms sex and gender are synonymous, but I claim that they are not, and the distinction ought to be made in order to not sound like a common fool. A person's identity forms from a variety of sources. Perhaps the earliest and most distinct identification occurs at birth when sexual organs are defined. Males are born with a penis, and females are born with a vagina. Since this is not an academic post, I will not include the 4% of the population born with ambiguous genitalia to keep things simple. These sex organs set the stage for later identities formed throughout our lives. Gender, religion, sexual orientation, schools, culture, professions and posterity all determine future forms of identity, and I will talk about some of these another day, but for now I will focus on gender.

Gender is fluid. This means that a person's gender does change over time. While many religions claim that gender is the same all our lives, they are misinformed and use the term incorrectly. To prove this, I will give you an example. When an infant is born with a penis, they are assigned the gender of a boy not a man. When does this transition from boy to man occur? This varies with the cultural identity and often rests on the shoulders of the person undergoing the transformation. I don't know when I became a man, it certainly wasn't when I hit puberty. To this day, many comment that I am just a big child. This does not change my sex, nor does it mean I am prepubescent. Often when males tease one another about being emotional they tell each other to "stop being a woman." This doesn't imply that their penis has transformed into a vagina, but that they are acting in the manner of another gender (which is another rant for another day). This shows that gender changes over time, and in some cases rapidly changes, to represent the person's identity.

Why do people confuse sex and gender? The best solution that I can come up with is that a majority of the population is uncomfortable with the word sex, even as a clinical term. Using gender in lieu of sex appeals to the easily offended because it avoids the other connotations of the word. Get over it! Rather than limit the expression of individual identity, embrace the beauty of diversity and learn some new vocabulary.

Please be informed. Sex= Male/Female; Gender= Man/Woman/Boy/Girl. This is the simple version, so please learn it; you won't be held responsible for the larger social constructs that forms each form of identity. That will come another day.

I don't want to make fun of you one day for not knowing the difference, but I will.

GS & CC

2011-03-14T20:03:00.002-04:00

A year ago I the initials GS and CC didn't mean a thing to me, but now my life revolves around them. In addition to numerous graduate schools, Columbia University has three undergraduate colleges: Columbia College (CC), School of Engineering and Applied Science (SEAS), and School of General Studies (GS). While all three colleges share classes and professors for the curriculum, each college has its own admissions criteria, student advising, and financial aid departments. One would think that attending the #4 ranked college in the US would be enough to satisfy anyone's ego, but it isn't. There can be a sharp divide among students of GS and CC regarding a number of issues, especially when it comes to deciding what school is better.

As a GS student, I have made many friends from all of the different colleges of Columbia, and I rarely feel this tension among my classmates. However, as the anonymity of the internet has increased the brazenness of the otherwise impotent souls, there are strings of conversations online and in comment sections of Bwog that show the depth of insecurity among my peers. I have met a few CC students who seemed to possess the elitist attitudes despised by my fellow GS'ers, but mostly I have been disgusted by the words from other GS students about the CC scholars.

Before I air my grievances, I will say this: I have the highest respect for anyone who had the mental discipline at such a young age to get into this school. CC students worked hard and sacrificed a lot to get here, and they deserve that recognition. When I was in high school, I could have never qualified for this opportunity, so I am not going to ridicule those who make it because of my laziness as a teen. I am a non-traditional student, and in that role I have made peace with what my college career will look like. Too many GS'ers are looking to relive some past glory at the expense of hazing another group. I don't like the assumption that all CC students are rich. I am sure that a few have wealthy families, but that isn't their fault. I certainly don't like people judging me for being white or tall, so I will not assume those fortunate to be born into well off families are all jerks. After living in the Philippines for two years, I know what poverty is, and my fellow classmates ought to be grateful for what they have instead of dreaming/lusting about what others might have in the bank.

Now to defend my school from the claims of certain Columbia College people. GS is not a "backdoor" into Columbia. Since GS and CC have different admissions, many CC students feel cheated that they are sharing classes with people who just received their GED. This is an understandable concern. Why work so hard in high school to sit next to a guy in college who dropped out his junior year? Well, this is what makes Columbia so awesome! The school sees potential in a very large portion of the population to benefit from its liberal arts studies. While we have all taken different roads to get here, we are now on the same path, and all of us are taking the same tests, reading the same books, and struggling through the same lectures. Sure I was a slacker 15 years ago, but I will work my butt off now, so that every CC and GS student will have the best classmate possible from me. I didn't chose Columbia because I wanted an easy path to a cool diploma. I attend, so that I may learn from the best Academics in the world. Columbia has offered me a second chance, and I am taking it.

There are advantages to both schools; CC has a great financial aid program, and GS is more flexible in working with student schedules and allows for part-time enrollment. Ultimately, I love GS. It works for me. While I might envy the younger crowd for their remarkable achievements, I am glad that my education is enhanced by my life experience. Also, we have the coolest dean ever. It's true. Peter Awn rocks!

I am just happy to be at Columbia. I have the chance to learn from top scholars and collaborate with the brightest minds in the country. If people here can't appreciate that, I feel bad for them.

"Mommy's School!"

2011-03-14T11:52:00.003-04:00

Little Man is proud of his mom, and he should be; she is one of the top teachers at one of the top charter schools in the United States. He shouts "Mommy's School!" whenever he sees their advertisements. Today, he posed for a picture.

He is proud of his mom.

An Open Letter

2011-03-13T17:10:00.001-04:00

Dear Mr. Drug Dealer,

Thank you for taking the time to read this small note. I just wanted to let you know that I saw what you did last night, and I told on you. I want you to know that this is not personal. In fact, I am not even mad at you for coming into my neighborhood in order to make a living. You seemed nice enough, and the people creating the demand for your services are the ones that really need our focus.

I just want you to understand one small thing: never get near my son. You see, If I had been walking alone last night, I wouldn't have said anything to the friendly police officer that was happy to get your information from me, but I had company. In an effort to tire an energetic three year old, my child and I went for an evening walk and enjoyed the ending of a beautiful day. I cannot describe to you how important my son is to me, so when I saw you slip that small plastic bag into the hands of the brunette in the tan jacket right before she gave you a roll of cash, I wanted to hurt you. I didn't, but you should know that it isn't wise to push me any further. Without realizing your error of exposing my son to unfathomable risks, you strolled back to your burgundy SUV and drove away. You may have forgotten these trivial moments, but I never will.

I consider myself person with liberal philosophies, so I don't criticize your career choice or what you may do in your free-time. In fact, I wish that the government would recognize the futility of their "war on drugs" and spend a bit more money on education and rehabilitation for people who suffer with addiction. The drug laws in this country clearly have a racial bias, and our penal system reflects the complete disparity occurring among the people that are in the most need of help. I have no problem with rational adults choosing to spend their money with you. You can sell from your apartment all you want. My problem is that you exposed my child to a world that he is not ready to comprehend. The dangers of your profession hurt the innocent more than the guilty, and I do not welcome you back into this neighborhood. I am not happy with your customer either, I will talk with her when our paths cross, for she is the one who invited you here. She isn't a good friend; you could do better.

Feel free to come by on your day off if you would like to see the campus or even grab a Jumbo Slice, but you do not want to sell your products on these streets anymore.

Thank you,
A Protective 6'2" 300lb Dad Who Will Not Give You a Second Chance

"We found the ice cream truck!"

2011-03-11T16:13:00.001-05:00

So said my jubilant child after exiting the subway.

Micro-Blogging

2011-03-10T12:18:00.000-05:00

I need to write on this little blog more often.

One of my major obstacles has been a misguided ideal of what a blog post should look like. I have felt for some time that I shouldn’t post my own writing unless it has been peer-reviewed and graded by the professor. This has limited what I have posted, and it has limited the way I have communicated my thoughts, feelings, and activities with friends. My resolve now is to post smaller blogs that may be a little rough around the edges, but these messages will have more relevance to my life. After all, I am sure that my friends and family would rather read about some nugget of wisdom gleaned from my son or class than my most recent eight page paper on gender equality and the subtle nuances of difference found within the Qur’an. (btw- it was a great paper!)

So Helpful

2011-02-18T10:08:00.001-05:00

Many thanks to my son for putting his toy car in my bag this morning. He knows what I like.

Heroes to the Rescue!

2011-02-06T14:03:00.001-05:00

I’m Sorry

2011-01-18T16:54:00.001-05:00

I feel a need to apologize because I have let many people down. Now before you feel like this is a generic plea for attention, let me assure you that I am not writing this post to gain pity. As you will see by the end of this blog, I am optimistic about my life and future. I am writing this to better understand what I have experienced. Writing is cathartic, and I am ready to explore my thoughts, feelings and actions in hopes of letting go and moving on. For many months I have been withdrawn from family, friends and other activities. Despite the many excuses that I have used to justify my solitude, it has been intentional.

The person that I owe the biggest apology to is my wife. She has been more than generous these past four years in giving me the opportunities to be where I am at today. She has inspired me to move beyond the average aspirations of Archie and reach for the highest goals. For too long she has carried the burden of being financially responsible for our small family. While I have had employment and student loans to supplement our income, I have not put in my share, and she has needed to make up the difference. Many times I would sit back and just figure that things would work out on their own, and it would be my wife who figured out how to make the ends meet, how to move us across the country and how to provide us with food clothing and shelter.

Now a mere sentence isn't going to make her life any easier. It is going to take a lot of work and energy to balance both school and work, but it is something that I need to do, not just for my wife but also my son. I would like to think that I am a great father, and in many ways I am. I love spending time with him—reading, wrestling, watching fire trucks or just cuddling. However, he needs more than a friend; he needs a dad that is there both physically and fiscally. He may see me less often, but he needs to be provided for by both parents and not just one.

Columbia has humbled me. I miss the days of being the smart one in the class and not having to study for anything. It seems now that I spend an obscene amount of time studying to be the person who is completely lost in the class. I need to make my time count here. I need to appreciate where I am at. While grades are important, I came here for an education. I will sound elitist for saying this, but I would rather be a B student from Columbia than an A student from somewhere else.

The greatest gift of being at this school is my peer group. I have never met so many amazing, talented, friendly and social people at one time as I have in the last few months. I need to spend more time with them. I can no longer hide from their invitations for dinner, parties and even study sessions. These people are the reason why this school is amazing. The professors may be smart, but the students and my class-mates rock!

I have been reclusive at church also. There was a time when I spent several hours a week working on projects and other church activities, but now I slip out the door when no one is looking. There is a wealth of friendship that is just waiting to be found within those doors, and I haven't opened them yet.

Lastly, to my family and friends, I am sorry for not answering my phone. I have felt like keeping my head under the ground until I had some good news to share, and in doing this, I have lost touch with so many people. Thank you for your repeated calls of care and concern. It is great to know that even with all of your responsibilities and burdens, many of you take the time to call me just to say hello and make sure that I am alright. I still may not answer the phone all the time, but I promise that I will work on it.

Now that I have gotten through these confessions, I am dropping two classes this Spring term and getting busy looking for a real job that will allow for professional development, personal satisfaction and a chance to finish my education. If you know of something, let me know. I am excited for a change and a chance to grow into a better, friend, brother, uncle, husband and father. As a great friend told me recently, I never take the easy way, and I am looking forward to this next challenge.

Tourist Time!!!

2011-01-08T19:14:00.005-05:00

It has been some time since I have visited Rockefeller Center and Times Square, so tonight Little Man and I went there and had some good old fashion fun.

We...

went to the M&M Store,

saw the lights of Times Square,

and shared a jumbo slice of pizza!

Now we are home in our pajamas making homemade french-fries. Life is great!

Another Present

2010-12-27T13:35:00.000-05:00

The best part about a vacation, is more vacation. With the awesome storm we just had, there are plenty of reasons to stay inside and enjoy some rest in bed.

I would like to say that I got the truck free from the surrounding snow, but I failed. I will try again tomorrow. The rest of the day involves cooking, baking, resting and watching movies. I love holi/snowdays.

“Easy there pilgrim”: Exploring Gender Assignment within a Binary System

2010-12-20T07:24:00.002-05:00

    For a number of reasons, the biggest of which is time, I have not posted any of my papers for the semester on this blog. This is a research paper that I did for my University Writing course.

Citizens of the United States of America take great pride in the numerous technological advancements and various cultural influences that allow them to convey their individuality in a myriad of ways. From New York City to Los Angeles, freedom and eccentricity reign. Liberty is seen as the sacred foundation of this country, yet within this nation, traditional views about gender limit the free expression of those not defined within the current binary system, and in restraining their uniqueness they are inadequately able to express their autonomy.

    Gender has typically been viewed in terms of man and woman; this corresponds with our concept of sex—male and female, yet according to Kristin Zeiler and Anette Wickstrom of Linkoping University, 1.7 to 4% of children born are intersex, meaning to be born with ambiguous genitalia, which is more common than children born with Down's syndrome (Zeiler and Wickstrom 359). In their article "Why do 'we' perform surgery on new born intersexed children?" they point out that parents of these kids are often frustrated when entrusted medical professionals do not know what sex the infant is. If the sex is hard to determine, then the gender will also create more difficulty. This concept of intersex is hard to understand while still holding the traditional view of a binary nature of sex and gender (Zeiler and Wickstrom 364). Parents look to doctors to give them answers which do not always fall in their realm of expertise. If the child is born with a slow heart rate or shallow breathing, a doctor could prescribe a treatment, but with the case of intersex children, there is no clear answer because there isn't a clear understanding of the situation.

   To understand the concept of gender assignment, we must first realize that there is much that we do not know. Laura Erickson-Schroth, a resident at NYU Langone Medical Center and author of many books about trans-gender issues claims that a "common assumption is that gender and sex are the same thing" (Erickson-Schroth 60). While sex is determined by the chromosomes in our DNA, gender does not have clear markers that allow for a positive identification. Many suppose that the best way to determine gender is to assign it to the corresponding sex—the gender of "man" for males and "woman" for females. In severing this traditional link between sex and gender, pathways of expression that have been closed may now open. Erickson-Schroth goes on to describe why this linkage of sex and gender persists today: "Sexuality is more complicated than we could ever imagine, and yet we use rather simple language to describe it" (Erickson-Schroth 67). In other words, we use simple terms like man and woman, male and female, gay and straight to describe the entire population while completely denying the varying levels of each group and thereby suppressing their expression. Using binary terms like man and woman to describe one's gender would be like using only the terms happy and sad to describe our moods. When a person asked you how you felt, your only options would be wither happy or sad, but what if you felt pensive or grateful? How would you express yourself with such limited terms? By restricting our vocabulary to only two words like happy and sad, we hinder our ability to express how we feel—removing the beauty of speech. This inadequacy of our speech has created the deficit of understanding gender. Gender, like our own emotions, needs more than two options in order to be expressed.

    Perhaps one reason why we maintain this binary view on gender stems from one of the most popular American icons, John Wayne. Starring in over two hundred movies as a cowboy, war hero, and athlete, John Wayne's deep voice and natural height of 6'4" captured the attention of the American public, and he still remains one of the most popular movie stars of all time over thirty years after his death. Seen as the "man's man," Wayne embodied the strength, power and masculinity that an "ideal man" ought to become. Bob McGuire, a therapist and life coach wrote about the image of John Wayne and the effort put into keeping him masculine. "John Wayne actually had shorter doors to walk through on the sets, and they made the doors the women walked through higher to give the illusion that this great man, so big and so strong, was actually bigger and stronger than he was and the women were actually smaller and weaker than they were" (McGuire 42). The "manliness" of John Wayne was in part a fabrication of set designs set up to make the hero appear stronger than those that needed rescuing. Although John Wayne was a large man without any assistance, he was still enhanced to meet some unrealistic ideal of a real man. This concept of men being strong and tough trickles down to our perception of what boys should be also—little boys should play with trucks and guns while little girls play with dolls and dresses. While John Wayne may not be the origin of gender identification for men, his image and legacy impact children today.

    Alice Dreger, a professor of bioethics at the Feinberg School of Medicine, wrote an article entitled "Gender Identity Disorders in Childhood: Inconclusive Advice to Parents" in which she shares an example of a little boy, William, that likes to play with dolls and chooses to identify himself as a girl. William's parents placed him in therapy to cure him of his Gender Identity Disorder. The therapists prescribed a simple beginning treatment: "William will be given gender-neutral toys to replace his Barbie and My Little Pony and will, ideally, be led to develop friendships with other boys—not boys of the rough-and-tumble, army-toy-obsessed type, since William will never relate well to those boys, but boys of a calmer gentler variety" (Dreger 26). This handling already exposes the flaw of binary thinking regarding gender. The therapists feel the need to make William a "boy" despite his own desire to be a girl, yet they acknowledge that William will never be a boy that plays rough but will need to be assigned with softer boys to befriend. They recognize that even within the gender of boy, there are great differences, yet they are all given the same label. If there isn't a two-sizes-fit-all approach to gender, why do doctors, parents and cultural trends demand that everyone assimilate into one of the two accepted genders?

   William's behaviors would then be seen as natural in a different cultural environment such as Samoa where biological male children who express feminine traits from an early age are not put into therapy to remedy the behavior; they fall into a third category of gender called fa'afafine. Fa'afafine are born biological males. As these young boys grow and develop, they begin to demonstrate feminine characteristics, so their parents raise them as girls. Their gender is not seen as fixed, so they are assigned another gender that is a better fit for them. As adults, they dress as women, perform tasks traditionally reserved for women, date and have sexual intercourse with men who consider themselves straight, all with their original sexual organs. In this culture, fa'afafine are not seen as radical outcasts because "the culture has a system that accommodates their difference" (Dreger 28). Their language allows them to experience a more diverse way of life that is lacking here in the US. This open expression of a third gender allows those that do not fall into the man/women categories to claim their identity without repercussions.

   The acceptance of the fa'afafine stands in great contrast to the actions taken in Western societies. One European family was told by the doctor that their child who had XX chromosomes, female genes, would "make a very nice boy because of the child's genitals" (Zeiler and Wickstrom 366). Another family assigned their intersex child the male sex. When asked by the doctor whether they had chosen a name, the family informed the doctor that the child's name would be Johan, the doctor replied: "That is good. He must have a sterling boy's name" (Zeiler and Wickstrom 367). The doctor's implication that a boy must have a strong masculine name highlights the attempt to reinforce manly attributes further explained by McGuire, "Men are generally bigger and stronger and thus thought to be tougher, and women, generally smaller are thought to be weaker and sweeter... a deep, gruff male voice I associate with strength and roughness, and a soft female voice often sounds nurturing and innocent" (Mcguire 42). Just as John Wayne's masculinity was in part a fabrication of Hollywood set designs, families, doctors, teachers and friends continue to strengthen the elementary perception of gender. Western cultures have set up ideas and rules to maintain the two-gender system. These ideas are perpetuated by previous unfounded stereotypes.

   Many advocates, poets and social psychologists reject cultural norms and walk according to their own path, yet their language is still confined to the concept of just two genders. Harold Norse, a popular American writer who recently died in 2009 wrote a poem called "I'm Not a Man" in which he throws the traditional views of manhood aside in order to claim his own identity. He writes:

I'm not a man. I won't play the role assigned to me- the role created
by Madison Avenue, Playboy, Hollywood and Oliver Cromwell,
Television does not dictate my behavior.

Norse clearly understood that there is more to being a man than what we are taught in our culture, and argues against the traditional allocation of gender roles. He asserts that these identities are "created" (Norse) and disseminated by popular media. Men, like women, escape a simple definition. Each gender is complex, and ought not to be categorized simply by sex, yet the feelings that many men experience, like tenderness and vulnerability, must be hidden in order to maintain the illusion of masculinity they are assigned.

   However, many feel that gender ought to be protected and valued within the two-gender system. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, also known as "the Mormons," issued a statement in 1995 called "The Family: A Proclamation to the World" where they claim: "All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose" (Hinkley 1). Gender, according to the LDS church, is specifically linked to a person's sex, and ought to be a measure on which life assignments and duties should be decided. The LDS Church's simple assessment of sex and gender relates to Erickson-Schroth's previous assertion that we use "simple language" (67) in understanding the nature of human sexuality. By maintaining a binary system, religions are able to synchronize their doctrine and avoid moral ambiguities; Male and Female, Right and Wrong, Heaven and Hell, Salvation and Damnation all reinforce a dichotomous language. While religious groups are certainly entitled to their opinions, these opinions do not allow a significant number of people that do not fall into the male/female roles to have a voice. According to Zeiler and Wickstrom, a limited vocabulary like this leads one to associate anything outside of the male and female genders with "silence and shame" (373). The lack of religious language to describe other genders leads those who do not accept a traditional gender role to associate their feelings with something unnatural, while the indifferent attitudes of the majority push the minority further away in embracing their own doctrine of correctness.

   There is also some merit in maintaining traditional views on gender through sex assignment surgery. Zeiler and Wickstrom point out that for intersex children "Surgery is part of the identity work… if parents do not have their child undergo surgery, they contribute to the child's gender identity confusion" (369). Children are exposed to the binary gender system in every encounter with friends, classmates and family members. In not assigning them a gender, they will be even more confused about their identity than if they were assigned a wrong gender. A child who is not given an identity to explore will face the dangerous world of their peer group without peers. An early gender identity, even a wrong one, gives a child the right "look" in order to fit in. By allowing a child to determine their own sex and gender in their own time, parents set their children up for disaster. Gender identity is a critical step in developing a social identity. Making friends, going to the bathroom and even seating assignments at times require some form of gender assignment. Jr. High School is a difficult time without the added complication of not having a sex or gender identity. Dreger also agrees with this philosophy noting that "children should not have to get caught up in adult politics of sex, gender, and sexual orientation" (Dreger 27). Children are not pawns to be used as fodder in an ever-increasing battle regarding gender issues and sexual orientation, but Dreger also uses an example from Ken Zucker, a psychologist and sexologist, to elaborate on the need to avoid surgery in reference to William, the little boy who identified as a girl: "if yours were a black family and William were insisting that he is white, the right approach would not be to ask doctors to help make William white" (Dreger 27). While the surgical method will certainly "reduce parental distress and trauma" (Zeiler and Wickstrom 361), it may not be in the best interest of the child.

   Determining the best interest of the child presents its own set of problems because there is not simple solution. Just as Erickson-Schroth explained that "sexuality is more complicated than we could ever imagine…," (67) Zeiler and Wickstrom also point out that parents of intersex children discover "sex is much more fluid than they had previously thought to be the case" (368). Modern thought is now learning what Samoan culture has known for generations—there are more than two genders. The fa'afafine may not the dominant gender in Somoa, or the most popular, but at least they are given the chance to live in a way that brings them happiness. This fluidity of gender roles captures the need to open our understanding of gender beyond the current state. If we know that sex and gender do not correspond, and we know that there can be more than one gender within a culture and it will not collapse, then we should be willing in establishing new terminology in gender identity.

    Language regarding gender, sex and sexual orientation needs to be broadened. In expanding the vocabulary within these issues, Western culture and American citizens will find that there are more similarities among that which has previously been viewed as different. A more diverse lexicon will lead to a more diverse population, allowing the disenfranchised to take part in the great American experience of liberty.

Daddy Day

2010-12-07T09:17:00.000-05:00

If you ever wonder what Little Man and I do when we spend the day together, this is it. He plays the guitar, and I get free entertainment.

He Loves Oatmeal

2010-11-30T08:05:00.001-05:00

His Future's So Bright...

2010-10-16T10:57:00.000-04:00

Little Man Time!

2010-10-14T19:38:00.002-04:00

Every night between 8pm and 9pm we have "Little Man Time." This is a dedicated hour for me to spend with Captain Crazy because my schedule has me leaving the house at 3:30 in the morning and not coming home until 7 or 8. Sometimes we clean, sometimes we read and sometimes we play! Tonight, we played. It was fun. I like Little Man Time.

Global Warming

2010-10-02T17:42:00.002-04:00

We went north to the Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory's open house this morning, and little man thought that this was the best exhibit--probably because it was his height and it had toy cars. He asked for his picture to be taken, so I obliged. We learned about earthquakes, magma, oceanography, bamboo bicycles, hurricanes and crappy shuttle buses.

Caramel Apples

2010-09-26T17:44:00.002-04:00

We bought some apples at an orchard yesterday in New Jersey to make some caramel apples. Even though we were short some awesome ingredients to have awesome toppings, they were still a blast to make. We will see how they taste after dinner, but I have a feeling that Little Man is not going to complain about free sugar...

Cherry Garcia

2010-09-25T14:38:00.002-04:00

At the Pagan Pride festival, little man chose a Cherry Garcia ice cream bar for a snack, and it was delicious. We are chilling at Battery Park watching the boats, people and Sponge Bob.

Making Memories

2010-09-18T07:06:00.001-04:00

Since little man and I were awake early this morning, we decided to go share some French Toast at Tom's diner.

I love my school!

2010-09-04T19:32:00.001-04:00

Ice cream, Low Library, cute baby, awesome city, Columbia has it all!

Wings Worth Driving For

2010-08-28T21:26:00.001-04:00

We spent some time this morning/afternoon driving to Long Beach Island in New Jersey for some most delicious Sloppy Fries (french fries covered with sloppy joe and cheese) and chicken wings. I would have posted a "before" picture of this great meal, but I couldn't wait to start eating. NJ may have a bad reputation, but it is home to me.

Dinner And A Sundae At Tom's

2010-07-29T23:18:00.002-04:00

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You might recognize it from this photo.

Something Creative

2010-07-28T19:12:00.002-04:00

I chatted with a friend recently and reminisced about the Creative Non-Fiction class we shared. This conversation made me realize that I missed sharing some of the more creative aspects of my life, so I am sharing this story. I wrote this for A, and it is meant to be read as a children's book. Take the time to read it (if you want to read it) out loud and pause at the appropriate breaks.

I hope you like it.

The Princess's Journey

In the very recent past, and in a Royal Kingdom close to this very spot, The Most High Queen and The Great King had a baby. They loved this little princess so much that they wanted to give her a kingdom of her very own!

This kingdom had customs that were not like those we know here, and this little princess needed to make a great journey to arrive at her kingdom. They could not take her themselves, so they selected others to teach the princess about her kingdom and how to get there.

The Most High Queen and The Great King entrusted the infant to a Brave Duke and Learned Duchess. The Duke had fought in many battles and helped other royal children journey to their kingdoms. The Duchess had traveled through many distant lands and learned the many languages and cultures of the different people.

Together they journeyed through the land, meeting the people, singing their songs and playing their games. They taught the princess about trust, learning and compassion. The Brave Duke reminded the princess everyday about the beautiful kingdom she would inherit, and about all the power that would be hers.

As the princess grew older, so did the Duke and Duchess. One night, while lying down for the evening, the Duke commented that he felt particularly tired that night. The next morning he was nowhere to be found. The Duchess and the princess continued their journey together. Soon the princess found herself traveling alone to find her kingdom.

Undaunted, the princess set out to learn from the best scholars the path to her kingdom. She traveled to many distant lands and met with the brightest and smartest people, but they could not tell her where her kingdom was at. When she was hungry, people gave her food. When she was cold, people gave her clothing, and when she was tired, people gave her place to rest.

One day she met an old man by the side of the road. "Do you know who I am?" she asked. "Of course your majesty," replied the elder. "Is this my kingdom?" asked the princess. The old man laughed and said, "No, this is not your kingdom. No one can own this land. That would be like owning the sun or wind. It does not belong to us. Keep looking and you will find your kingdom." The princess thanked him and continued her journey.

Over the years she had many friends travel with her. Some would travel for a few minutes, and others would travel for a few years. Then she met the prince. This prince was on a journey much like the princess', but he had found his kingdom and decided that he wanted to help the princess find hers.

This prince was not like the other people that she had met along the way. There was something about him that she liked. Maybe it was the way that he made her laugh, or maybe she like the way that he could make her angry. Maybe it was because he loved to meet new people and see new sights just like her.

Together they made many friends and traveled very far. When they met people that were hungry, they gave them food. When they met people that were cold, they gave them clothes, and when they met people that were tired, they gave them rest.

The princess loved the people that she met, and made sure that everyone was treated fairly and honestly. Some days the princess would be sad that she had not found her kingdom, but the prince would cheer her up and tell her that her kingdom was getting closer every day.

They grew older and older, teaching, learning, sharing, blessing, loving and traveling.

One evening as they were going to sleep, the prince said that he was particularly tired that night, and the next morning the princess was alone.

Still she continued to look for her kingdom, but she found that she was much happier as she helped those around her. Many came from faraway places to learn from the not-so-young princess. She gave food to those that were hungry, clothes to those that were cold, and comfort to those that were sad.

Finally, there came a night where she felt particularly tired.

The next morning when she awoke, she saw The Great King standing beneath a tree and ran to him. "Father!" she yelled as she gave him a giant hug. "Hello my daughter, I have missed you," said The Great King. The princess wanted to tell him everything that she had learned, but as she pulled away from his embrace, she saw that she was young again and did not know what to say. "Go to your mother," said the Great King.

The princess looked around and saw the most loving form of The Most High Queen and wondered how she didn't see her there before. "Mom!" was all she could say before tears came running down her cheeks. "Why are you crying?" asked The Most High Queen. Through the tears, the princess said, "Because I never found my kingdom." The Most High Queen hugged the princess tightly and whispered, "You have never been far from your great kingdom. Turn around."

The princess turned around and finally saw her kingdom.