Category: Doing what’s right

Doing what's right

The Kindness Project

granny18

One of the things I notice when exploring the virtual world of social media is the unkindness. Twitter is the worst, to the point I had to quit looking at comments for fear of becoming horrified. I peeked back in the other day and saw a local traffic commentator posting what someone had said to her.

“omg, you seriously have to get rid of that senile old bat Leslie Horton.”

Leslie is quirky and fun and brings joy to my day and the day of many others. If this individual doesn’t like her, the city does have other morning news shows. So why? I have no idea really but have made two observations:

The anonymity of platforms like twitter give courage to the unkind.

Unkind, low-brow posts by those in authority (you know who you are) seems to have lended legitimacy to those who used to hide in the shadows..

What can we do about it? Be kind.

My new community in High River, Alberta, Canada, has embraced kindness by dubbing several of us “Kindness Ambassadors” based on Jaime Thurston’s book, “Kindness – the little thing that matters most.”

I jumped on that bandwagon pretty quickly after a month of social media hate speech. Kindness. The word SPOKE to me.

I’m catching up a bit here because I’ve become a little “unretired” (A whole other post) but here’s where we are at so far.

Week 1. Give kind comments. No Leslie does not enjoy being called a senile old bat. If you don’t like her style change the channel. If you do enjoy her style, tell her so. (I love you Leslie!)

Week 2. Be Kind to Unkind People. Oh, there’s Leslie again. She’s been known to be kind to unkind people by assuring they get themselves a Snickers bar. The Snickers company themselves have participated in her quest to sweeten the world a little when it gets a little sour.

Week 3. Share Your Food. We’ve always been active supporters of our local food bank but when I moved to this community I came across a local organization known as High River Food Rescue. These folks redistribute edible food to our community that would otherwise go to waste, through markets held twice weekly. Seriously, how cool is this?

https://www.wildrosecommunityconnections.com/wild-rose-food-connections

Week 4. Do Something for Nothing. Now I know sometimes it’s hard to become an official part of a volunteer organization because of other things you’ve got going on. Sometimes life is hard. I GET it! Oh boy, do I get it. Sometimes though, you offer to pick the grandkids up at school, or you shovel the neighbour’s walk, or you make sure a Mom of a newborn has some ready-made meals, or you paint someone’s basement because they can’t physically do it themselves and they can’t afford to hire someone. Whatever it is, do it and expect nothing in return. My best “do somethings” have been things I’ve done in secret. My Dad won a Volunteer award from the AB Government back in 2013, and in his speech, he told a story of harvesting a sick neighbour’s field. When he asked his Dad if they were going to tell the neighbour they had done it; his Dad replied, “Getting credit is not why we do it.”

Week 5. Smile. That one is easy when someone is smiling back, a little tougher when faced with a scowl. On week 5 I threw myself out there and smiled at many very unhappy looking people. Very rarely was the smile returned. I had chosen the pick of the litter. The bottom line is, I don’t know why they are miserable. I don’t know why one particular lady got so upset so quickly at such a small thing. I don’t know. So I smile at them. Maybe it confuses them but maybe somewhere deep down it is better than being ignored.

Week 6. This week. Switch off and disconnect. Face to face conversation allows us to connect as human beings. I used to have face to face conversations with students, staff and faculty daily. I have formed lifelong connections with some of them.

Now I am a contract worker, writing from home. Beyond the undeniable attraction of working in stretchy pants and a -40 commute that does not require me to go outside, I miss these connections. My team and I meet via video conference or phone, and it’s just not the same as having those co-workers who grab you from your desk to go for a popcorn run or those who stop by with a cup of coffee and a chat. I’ve decided the occasional drive to connect with the people I “work with” is going to be integral to my survival.

Until then, this week’s “switch off and disconnect” will be about my grandchildren. I’m babysitting all day tomorrow. No tablet, no movies, no Facebook, no blogging…just some good old face to face with some of the most entertaining folks in my world.

And if they act like little horrors…I will try to be kind. 😉

Doing what's right

The Face of Homelessness

granny18

Black Friday. The real sign that we have swung into the Christmas season. As we are inundated by appeals from the Mustard Seed and Salvation Army among others, the dream I had last night isn’t all that surprising. I was at a Tim Hortons (how very Canadian of me) and a down and out fellow shuffled into the place and rattled enough change onto the counter to buy a large double-double. He eyed the doughnuts on display, the menu above the cashiers, and he sat down with his coffee. At some point in the dream, I bought the fellow breakfast to the disapproving stares of others in the building. As I paid for his meal, something compelled me to tell them why I was doing it. I can still feel the emotion of my response.

This is Bill. Bill is why.

Homelessness often starts with mental illness or addiction. Our home growing up had one which led to the other. Our mother didn’t become homeless, only because her husband took “for better for worse, in sickness and in health” rather seriously.

I won the genetic lottery, not in looks but mental wellness… for the most part. (The name “Crazy Woman”  given to me by a couple of our indigenous instructors notwithstanding). My brother won a good dose of charm and a propensity for addiction. Nothing he chose, nothing he wanted, just the luck of the draw.

Best Friends

His struggles began to see light in his teenage years and for many years he struggled. Lost licenses, lost marriage, lost respect.

Finally, he moved from hospital to a treatment facility and came out with the addiction pushed to the background. He got married again and had three beautiful children who he loved to the moon and back. One with the family dimple, one who looked a lot like him and one who possessed a natural joy. He went above and beyond for a Dad of this era; after a full day of work, his evening often consisted of bathing the kids, getting them into their PJ’s, folding laundry and choosing their clothes for the next day.

He loved every minute of it.

For 12 years, he worked, supported his family, rejoined society and loved those kids. Then one day it slipped a little when he got a taste of a new addiction. Often it isn’t the original addiction that gets someone who has walked that path before…

He slipped completely after our Dad died. Dad had always held him up when the going got tough, just as he had with my mother. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to lose that safety net entirely. I know it was painful to watch him fall.

 One thing remained constant. He loved those kids.

He wasn’t able to see his children during those tough times. He sunk deeper; that loss was the toughest of all. As his addiction took more control, he ended up living in his truck in the parking lot of our childhood church: this good looking happy child, this handsome outdoors-loving teen, this loving father… was homeless.

It seemingly ended on a train track in Southern Alberta one night. What Bill didn’t know was he still lived in the hearts of his kids, especially the oldest who remembered the good times best. She remembered him still when she got married last summer, and I was honoured to join her other auntie walking her down the aisle in his place.

My niece had given her uncle a picture of her Dad to take throughout the day, to the ceremony, awaiting her at the altar, to picture taking, and at the reception, joining us at our table. At one point in the evening he even joined her and uncle in a dance.

She never stopped missing him. Addicted or not, homeless or not…she missed who he had been in their lives.  This oldest girl has tried to help the younger two know him the best she can.

As her sister plans a wedding and her brother reestablishes his relationship with his sisters, she misses who he could have been in their lives.

Next year Bill becomes a Grandpa and I know what a special thing being a grandparent is. (The baby will call me Grauntie! )

I’m a Grauntie!

My brother wasn’t at his best during his moments of crisis but I loved him too (even when I didn’t like him) because I remembered the entirety of his journey.

As many communities face an opioid crisis and are repelled by lost souls more visible than ever, it’s hard to remember their humanity. Their previous lives may have included parenthood, home ownership, satisfying work…Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. We remembered this during my husband’s birthday party at a park in Calgary, AB this summer.

Behind this photo is a fellow who entered the park, pushing a shopping cart. One of my girls brought him food from our barbecue, he rescued our ball from the river, and we expressed our heartfelt thanks. (It was rather amazing what he could invent from the contents of that cart.) The most important moment of that day for this guy? It was probably when my husband turned to him and asked, “So what’s your story?” Hubby told him he didn’t have to share, but my husband caring to hear it was likely a humanizing moment. He did share, and his journey wasn’t far from my brother’s. By the end of the day, the grandkids were asking him if he wanted the plastic tablecloths, and we left him some more food for his next meal… not because we pitied him but because we were just helping a guy out who joined our party for a while.

We all thought of Bill.

When next you see someone camped out or existing in some marginal way, I would never ask you to approach, some addictions are truly scary. I only ask that you adjust your mind to their humanity, to this face of homelessness.

This is Bill. This is why.

Happy 63rd birthday bro…

Doing what's right

The Gift of Getting Old

granny18

If you’ve reached retirement, you’ve aged a bit. Along with hot flashes, bad knees or hip replacements (or whatever your particular signs of aging are) comes the gift of all those years and the experiences they’ve brought us.

Some are not so lucky. Today is Green Shirt Day.

Green Shirt Day was born out of the loss of son and brother, it was born out of his organ donation and how it inspired a spike in organ donor registrations across Canada following the Humboldt Broncos bus crash. We know Logan Boulet’s parents. They are good people. It doesn’t surprise me that their son did something so selfless. Doing the right thing is what they do. That’s why, on a day when other parents may have stayed in bed, they’ve launched Green Shirt Day and have spent the last year since their loss spreading the word about having the “Kitchen Table Talk” to make your family aware of your wishes. Today has been one year since they laid an ear against their son’s chest and listened to his heart for the very last time. Today someone else feels that heart beating.

Along with that heart, 5 other people benefited from Logan’s donation.

Another mother is honouring Green Shirt Day today. Her daughter Paige was 17 when she passed… Like Logan, she helped 6 people to live better lives when hers was over too soon. None of these parents grieves any less but maybe there’s some small comfort in knowing those hearts are still beating.

We’ve been given a gift, living this long. If something happens to end our run…we could pass that gift along. We’re done with ’em. Sign up for organ donation. Tell your family (they will make the final decision so they need to know).

Links on how to donate in Canada’s provinces are here: https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/healthy-living/blood-organ-tissue-donation.html#a2

If you are new to organ donation registry today, I’d love to hear from you.

Doing what's right

Praise

granny18

Motivational quotes and admonitions appear on social media sites and in self-help books, discouraging us from needing praise to feel good about ourselves. It’s good advice, and I know I’ve gotten better at flying my own kite no matter which way the winds around me are blowing.  If you find yourself in a relationship or an environment where accolades are thin on the ground, you could quickly flounder if the approval of others is the only thing behind your self-esteem. 

It’s important for us to observe and acknowledge our own excellent work and the positive steps we’ve taken in our lives. If you don’t have a shoulder injury, pat yourself on the back. You are good enough without the approval of others.

BUT

(There is always a BUT with this one isn’t there?)

I wonder if in trying to make our world less dependent on praise we’ve become stingy with it.

It’s good to not RELY on the approval of others but does this automatically lead to the argument that giving praise is BAD?

I don’t think so.

When a boss, co-worker, friend or family member sees what you are about, what you have done and gives you kudos for it, it’s not necessarily about giving you praise you NEED. It does create awareness that you aren’t the only one out there that knows you are doing incredible things in the world.

Alternatively, there’s a trend in some workplaces, mandating managers to give praise. Mandated praise… let that sink in. Nothing sucks the meaning out of a compliment faster than suspecting the giver is reading from a script.

Go team!

If it smells insincere, that’s how it’s received…like a bit of food gone “off.”   Give praise…but only when you feel it is truly deserved.

As for me and this particular kite I’m flying, I’m having fun writing this blog; I’m exercising my communication skills. I know I’m doing okay for someone relatively new to this game.

When I received a compliment from one of the best writers I know, it meant something to me and was an encouragement.

Did I NEED her encouragement to keep putting these thoughts rambling around my head out into the world? No.

But it still felt good.

The same person is really good at giving me constructive criticism when I need it. I learn from it, and that’s okay too.

Get out there folks, give compliments and encouragement when they are due.

I think it may be okay.

Doing what's right

Integrity

granny18

Retirement gives a person more time to watch and engage with current events.

Big in Canadian news at the moment, is a story of a former Attorney General and her Prime Minister, and the differences in their interpretation of events.

Whether or not you believe her version or his, the message of integrity has undoubtedly resonated with Canadians. She stood up and spoke up for what she felt was right, and Canadians thus far seem to have landed solidly in her camp. (One poll suggests 97% believe the former Attorney General 3% the Prime Minister’s representative)

It got me thinking about integrity. It’s always been important to me and has occasionally found me on the opposite side of someone in authority…a pretty tricky place to be.

What is integrity exactly? Honesty. Strong moral principles. The willingness to stand up for those principles even when it puts you in the line of fire.

One such incident had me advocating hard for someone when she was left afloat after a traumatic event. A union environment takes the idea of “scope” fairly seriously and it certainly wasn’t in my “scope” to find this student the assistance needed. My brain knew it was not my job as an administrative assistant, but at one point my heart decided it WAS my job as a human being. She was left in the water to sink or swim, and I just happened to have a lifeboat.

It was “the right thing to do.”

I think this is what has been resonating with Canadians. They believe the former Attorney General chose to stand by her principles, they believe it was “the right thing to do.”

A quote attributed to Winston Churchill says it all, “You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for  something sometime in your life.”

The former AG and I both respected our places of employment and the rules encompassing those institutions.  Occasionally though, the rules just don’t make sense when held up to the light of your own moral compass. 

I find myself less conflicted these days. Fewer people and ideas are running up against my integrity. 

That said, finances ARE tight…I may be able to overcome my moral principles sufficiently to steal some sugar packets and jam pods from the coffee shop…