Suebob's Red Stapler

I was reading some articles on the psychology of mass murderers, trying to get my brain around the recent “random” shootings which seem to be happening more and more frequently.

This jumped out at me from an interview of Dr. Park Dietz:

The biggest issue to overcome is the reluctance that so many people have to make judgments about the behavior of other people. We have been teaching our young people for decades now and hence we have a generation of adults who have the mistaken notion that you shouldn’t judge other people. In their effort to accept people as they are, they often overlook behaviors that amount to bullying, harassment, discrimination, intimidation, or psychotic behaviors. Any of which when not dealt with properly can lead to violence, but all of which when handled properly can be managed. This idea of not judging and tolerating are one of several factors that lead people to ignore inappropriate behaviors in the workplace.

“Don’t judge,” we say. “You can’t judge me for my beliefs.”

I guess the time has come to ask “Why not?”

If your beliefs are turning you into a murderous psychopath, a rage-filled abuser, or even just an unpleasant little bitch, shouldn’t someone call you on them?

I don’t mean get all up in someone’s face and yell, but what about a gentle approach, like Glennon at Momastery did? She got her point across by telling her truth without creating more animosity.

I know that isn’t always possible. I know some people are so deep into their story that they can’t find the string to follow the path back out no matter what you say or do.

Loving each other is hard, especially now, when everyone seems so quick to take offense. But learning to judge, to discern better ideas from less good ones, and then being able to discuss those things with one another in a productive, adult way is a crucial skill to learn, lest we all end up killing one another.

This is my 3rd or 4th grade class photo. Looking at it makes me think several things:

1. I hated to comb my hair back then and I still hate to comb it
2. That was before hair conditioner. Yes, I said BEFORE HAIR CONDITIONER. I remember rat’s nests of unusual size at the back of my neck.
3. I can still remember the itchy lace of that dress collar
4. I’m glad I grew into my teeth

What led me to look at school photos is something more serious. After I read this article about teachers acting as equals (well worth reading), I started thinking about how bad school was for me. I went back to look at photos to see if I could see that in my eyes.

I think that would surprise most people who knew me back then, because I was an excellent student. I was an early reader and had good school skills, so I always got by with mostly A and B grades. Because I could easily keep up with school work and did well, I learned the wrong things at school.

I learned that I could get by with doing the minimum. An “A” was the most you could get, so why go above and beyond? I felt like good grades were a simple trick.

I also learned to not be too good. All it bought you was the scorn of your fellow students. I learned early to walk the fine line between doing enough but not shining so much that the other students hated you. Having my parents and teachers be proud of me wasn’t enough to risk losing the affection of my peers, with whom I always felt on shaky footing, anyway.

I was a rebellious kid – I have always felt some kind of inner drive to question the status quo, that not fitting in was better than trying to be one of the crowd.

That same spirit of rebellion made me feel like my teachers weren’t on my team. I felt like they were holding onto information and only doling it out at their own pace. It was so frustrating. Those were the days before you could look everything up on the internet. I spent a lot of time at the library and a lot of time reading, trying to get the knowledge I wanted.

I found children’s textbooks infuriating. I always wanted so much more than they could give me. I would read the same chapters over and over, looking at the pictures, trying to force more knowledge out of those smudged pages.

The thing is, my educational experience wasn’t bad. I went to good schools in good neighborhoods at a time when there were plenty of tax dollars to support the schools. Teachers were generally respected and education was highly thought of. And yet I feel I failed at school and school failed me.

The biggest failure, I think, was not giving me the idea that I had a stake in the world. I feel like the education I got was so fragmented. “Here’s your English, here’s your math, here’s your social studies.”

Now I work for a brilliant executive. I admire so many things about her, but the thing I treasure most is that she keeps her eyes on the prize – she constantly reinforces the big picture in everything she does.

Every day she isn’t just building systems and solving problems. She comes to work and tries to make our customer’s lives better. She’s serious about that, and if she weren’t, I don’t know if she could work as hard as she does, 16+ hours, 7 days a week.

THAT is what I wish school would have done for me. I wish that there was a Big Picture being taught. I wish they had said, every day, “Hey, kids, you need to be part of a team called humanity. As a team and as an individual, you have a responsibility to create the world you want. That’s what all this learning is for – to make a world worth living in.”

But in a hierarchical system with teacher as ruler of the classroom, that’s a hard sell because they can’t tell kids they’re responsible for creating the world, then say “But follow all my rules or else.”

I had a few teachers who tried to act as equals as much as they were allowed within the structure (Hey, Mrs. Gosfield! Hi, Mr. Bishop!) and I do remember those classes as much more exciting and interesting than others.

My friend Brian teaches graphic arts at the university level and says he has given up on everything but project-based grading. No tests, no quizzes. Students show what they have learned by creating something. He says he is happier and they are happier and they learn more, too.

I was lucky to have decent parents, so I grew up with the idea of doing right for its own sake. But learning that I was creating the world – I learned that on my own, and it took a long time. I don’t know why it wasn’t obvious from the start, but there are some subjects in which I am a little slow.

If I had to pick one iPhone app I wouldn’t want to live without, what would it be?

No, not Instagram or Camera+. In a pinch, the regular camera will do.

Or Spotify. Or Pandora. I almost never listen to music on my iPhone. Weird, I know.

Forget Facebook. Slow. Clunky.

Who needs Tweetbot? Well, I do, but not as much as I need….

White Noise Ambience. SO I CAN SLEEP.

I love it so much I even paid for the full version. There’s a free version, but I wanted to support the creators since I love, love, love this app.

Instead of me lying awake listening to the faucet drip, this sweet little app lets me sleep the sleep of a tired puppy. You choose from a bunch of noise possibilities, some from nature, some electronic noises, some more regular than others.

I just plug in my phone, set it to “Airplane Cabin” or “Floor Fan” and drift off to sleep with background noises blotted out by the soft soothing sameness.

You can also create custom sound mixes and save them.

When I’m feeling spiritual, I put on a combination of Tibetan Bowls and Ocean Waves. Then I can meditate while I’m asleep. And all those books say you can’t do that!

Red Noise and Underwater are a nice sound mix, too – burbly and a good soft hiss. Ironically, the actual “White Noise” noise is too harsh and bright to be relaxing to me.

There are certain sounds they include that I would never cue up – noises like “Grandfather Clock Ticking” or “Typing” that are the types of noises that keep me awake. But your mileage may vary.

This app has improved my sleep quality at least 50%.

Best $1.99 I ever spent. Not sponsored, just recommended.

The other night, my friend and I were walking through a new shopping mall when I said “Oh my god! There’s one!” and began fumbling for my camera.

“What?” he asked, looking around and the expanse of sidewalk and shrubberies. “What?”

So I had to explain my weirdest hobby: collection skateboard prevention device photos.

Skateboarders like to “rail slide” – hop their boards up onto handrails or the edges of benches or planters or wide stairs so that the wood part of the board slips along the surface. I think they stole this move from snowboarding. Here’s a quick video that explains this better than I can in words:

They even wax the surfaces to make sliding easier, which also leaves a greasy-looking trail along the edges of the bench or what-have-you. This is where anti-rail-sliding devices come in.

They’re little objects embedded in the edges of things to interrupt the surface.

Sometimes they’re metal or plastic. Sometimes they are pretty or sculptural.

Sometimes they’re just divots cut out of the surface – this is more common where it freezes.

They’re all around us, though, and mostly unnoticed.

I don’t actually care about the devices themselves as much as I care about noticing what is around me. Taking photos of these devices is like a treasure hunt. Just when I think I have “collected” all the designs, I find a new one.

So far I have found 39 completely different kinds of these devices.

That’s my weirdest hobby. What’s yours?

I titled this picture “The little princess in tulle.” Goldie will always be my princess. Abbie is more like My Little Ninja.

Last night I went to the Target toy section, which is conveniently divided into pink aisles and blue aisles, so you won’t get your toys with a side of gender equity.

The pink aisles are so…princessy, aren’t they? It’s like a band of roving princesses took over all of the toy workshops of the world, pointed guns at the toymakers, and forced them to make only toys that princesses would like or it’s “EAT LEAD, GEPPETTO!”

Princesses and ponies fit for princesses, that’s pretty much it for girl toys.

I want someone to ask little girls if they’d really like to be princesses. I’d have to explain the real Princess deal to them: Sure, people fawn over you and you get to live in a castle, but everyone also watches your every move.

If you were a princess and got pizza sauce on your dress, 100 people would take a picture of you and post it on Facebook with “Can you believe she’s a princess? She sure doesn’t eat like one!”

I think it would be exhausting to be a princess, and there’s no such thing as a part-time princess. You either are or you aren’t. And once you are, you can’t just say “Oh, hey, I changed my mind.” Unless the prince grants you an amiable divorce and you go on to become a highly paid weight loss plan spokesprincess. But that’s a whole different fairy tale.