I was a little curious what I had actually published to the web, because what I bookmarked to pull up the page looks a little bizarre–I didn’t expect all the admin stuff to be at the bottom. I suppose I will have to mess around with it more and see what happens.
I also did a search to see if it comes up, which it doesn’t, but, as I sort of suspected, it did bring up many multicultural references and a couple of blogs with the same title covering multicultural issues. One also covered mental issues. Given the subtitle of the page, one might assume this one is along the lines of the latter.
This reminds me of something I’ve thought of occasionally over the past year. Is there a point when writing becomes obsessive? Is that normal? Does it happen to other writers? I am so afraid that I will forget something I want to say that I feel like I need to keep working, and it’s hard to put a time constraint on that. Maybe writers with a better memory could remember from day to day with the help of some notes what they wanted to say from the day before. I work out scenes in the car when I’m driving in the morning sometimes (not with all the hand gestures–I do try to pay attention to the road as well) and have them nicely worked out, but then in the afternoon I have a hard time recalling some of them.
I suppose this is where a digital recorder could come in handy. When I was really having a hard time typing because of my hand, I had several suggestions to use a dictation program–I’ll put a plug in for it here–Dragon Naturally Speaking–that we use for the kiddos in our classrooms who don’t have typing skills but might want to record something they are thinking in written form, dictation software, basically. I was fervently opposed to the idea, while at the same time complaining about how many typos I was making because of my hand (and the fact that in one of the brain’s many mysteries, for some reason it seemed to think it was compensating for my left hand not working so well by making my right hand also not work so well. It seems to have gotten better. Either my brain finally did come to an agreement about what hand will do what or things started to settle down in their right place again. I’m typing faster again, seemingly with less typos. But that’s not the point). I just couldn’t talk into a recorder and write (create?). The reason, amazingly, because I was too self-conscious.
Considering how much I go on about everything else, I think this surprised the people that suggested it. This is another whole topic altogether, I think, but I don’t like to talk about what I’m working on while I’m working on it most of the time. I never have liked talking about it. Some people will go on at length about their projects. This could be one of the problems I have such trouble selling myself as an author, I don’t like talking about my work. I don’t know why. And somehow, dictating what I was writing was too close to crossing that line. I couldn’t even imagine doing it when I was home alone, and forget it if anyone was home. So I struggled on (not without a lot of muttered swearing, which resulted in a lot of, “Did you say something?”).
I suppose, getting back to the title of the post, that doing the search for the page just made me think a little more about the people who truly are living in different worlds, where they speak one language at home and another at school, for example. Where cultures, even now in 2011, are still so markedly different. We just watched Bend it Like Beckham the other night because my SO and his daughter hadn’t seen it, a good example of that. I’ll leave it at that, because I don’t want to get political at the moment. It is a very good movie if you haven’t seen it.
When I thought I the name of the page, for me, it has a very significant meaning–the idea of being tethered to the “real” world, whatever that may be. I have had experiences living in different cultures, the thought just didn’t occur to me. I feel slightly odd about it, as if some of the other “worlds” people are talking about have more validity and meaning than what I had in mind because they are real, they have real suffering, real chaos… It doesn’t make what I feel any less valid. Truthfully, if I read about everything that was going on in the world, I would probably crawl under my desk and not come out. It’s horrible out there.
So yes, I am somewhat of a coward. I’m not a Rosa Parks, or an Eleanor Roosevelt, or any of the other hundreds of women and men who were brave enough to stand up in front of people and say “This isn’t right.” I think the Occupy movement started out with good intentions. After a while, though, I think they start to blend into the scenery because they are simply always there. There was a planned protest in Russia against Vladmir Putin running for re-election. There were, at minimum, 25,000 people there, possibly up to 80,000, depending on which sources were asked. Another source said 40,000 people. There was a large police presence, including heavy equipment ( e.g. backhoes and the like) to get the protesters out of the way if they didn’t disperse by the time they were supposed to. It was completely peaceful. There were some detentions, but other than that, supposedly no violence, and the protesters left when they were supposed to. The important thing was, the Russian media are not supposed to air anything that is anti-Putin. So many of the protestors had iPads, smartphones, other technology, that word got out, and the protest was actually aired on the news. Now, I have not spoken to any of the Russian protesters, and can’t read Russian (even if I could manage Cyrillic), so all I have to go on is what was in the news. What they did there was huge–to actually have something anti-Putin aired on TV. They have another rally planned for the 24th, and I wish them the best of luck and hope it goes as well as the one they just had did.
I know I said I wasn’t going to get political. I lied. Not intentionally. Just thinking about that above just sort of got me going. The Occupy camp here has been complaining about the cold (and it has been cold). There was an article in the paper about some of the homeless feeling safer at the warming centers than at the camp. And I have to say, not to make myself sound pitiless, but when I was a kid, we lived for a couple of years like that–we did have an enclosed place to live, with a 50 gallon drum for heating, but it got down to below freezing in our house, consistently. Before anyone gets up in arms with accusations of child abuse or anything, my parents were VISTA Volunteers, and we lived in an extremely rural area of Utah on the Navajo Reservation. So it snowed through the roof where the stovepipe was–I was a kid, and kids take things for granted. It was sort of cool. Snow sizzled when it hit the stove. It wasn’t until I was adult that I started thinking, “That was a little crazy.” I survived. It probably formed my life in some way I don’t know about (I hope). I guess my point is, now, not only do we have an Occupy camp that has gotten to the point where people don’t really seem to notice them any more, they’re starting to complain, which isn’t a good way to garner sympathy to their cause.
In Russia, enormous attention was gathered through a well-planned, one day demonstration. Because I wanted to be a Probation Officer, and was also interested in other fields of law enforcement, I have been probably the only one who sticks up for police in my family. Then one officer will go and do something so stupid or awful that even I can’t say anything to defend them, and it effects the reputation of all police regardless of where they are, or if they’re the nicest, kindest, truly wanting to help people on the force. I hate that. Why are there some that are so gung ho, with such an “old boy” attitude that no doubt gets passed down, here, when in Russia, when you’d imagine it to be worse than here, they have a completely peaceful demonstration?
I truly deviated from the title of this post, and probably annoyed someone. Well, that’s probably not true, since the only person reading this is probably me as I write it.