Growth is painful

While I was at Star Island, I discovered through spotty-service email that some assertions I made on previous blog entries were interpreted in a different way than I intended, and my perspective has evolved as a result.

I have referred to our City Council representatives as upper middle class. While this is, in fact, an assumption, one that I cannot quantify with data, it does accurately reflect the general east side perception of council, and I have a hypothesis as to why. In our town, everyone in the city votes for all five wards, rather than each ward voting on its own representative. When I brought a petition up and down this road to express a need for a solution to pedestrian problems on Swan Lake Avenue, I was told again and again by signers that Council would never do anything about it because the other four wards would never vote for a council member who actually came from the lower class side of the tracks and could prioritize something the trailer park contingent needs.

Right or wrong, this is the perception.

When I have referred to them as upper middle class, I haven’t meant it as an insult or as a suggestion that they have always been upper middle class. Upper middle class exemplifies the American Dream and I’ve sucked into that ideal as much as anyone else in this country. So it is with hope, rather than criticism, that I learn that City Councilors have not always been what I (and others on my side of town) perceive them to be now.

I don’t want their tax returns. My perception is one of culture rather than cut and dry financial definitions. And, that said, my perception is evolving.

Ultimately, I think it’s hard for anyone to represent something that they aren’t right now. The challenges faced by each generation differ vastly, so what poverty looks like now is different than what it looked like forty years ago. The needs that younger families have are different than they were. Costs of childcare, the dissipation of multigenerational extended families staying together, the distance to which one must individually commute for a job and securing transportation to get there, the job skills necessary to flourish in today’s world - those are all different.

So I would like to take a moment to recognize and appreciate the fact that most, maybe all, of our councilors came from different worlds than what they live in now, and that they do continue to work hard to the best of their abilities. I recognize that none of them necessarily came from money, and I would also like to highlight my belief that their collective intention includes serving the lower classes.

But I stand by the belief that the challenges they faced when their children were young were different than the ones faced by families today, and that sometimes it is extra difficult to see those needs clearly when you are no longer in the thick of it.

Star Island, here we come

Progress has been made on the kitchen, but I'm waiting to put up photos until we've got the countertops put in. We decided to go ahead and order new ones. Well, "we" actually means "I" because I knew when Warren decided he could cut the countertops himself - the ones I got on the cheap from the Re-store in Bangor - that they were toast. But it's okay - we ordered butcher block countertops from Viking. Eventually we'll refinish the floors, too...it's never ending, right?

The kids and I are about to embark upon a week-long adventure, slightly outside of Maine. We're going to a family camp/retreat center on Star Island, off the shore of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We're leaving our technology behind, which I'm especially excited about. I am privileged to volunteer as one of the adult leaders of the high school aged group, and the kids will have camp activities with their own age groups, too. Then the kids and I will be together in the evenings and probably throughout different parts of each day - I don't know for sure, yet. This is our first time, and I look forward to posting pictures!

I'm excited to get away for many reasons, and honestly, one of them is that I feel I botched my first learning experience regarding the salmon farm thing going down in Belfast. My opinion at this point is an approximate "what's the problem in starting the process over...?" However, I got really irritable when questioned about GMOs, which I also need to learn more about. If there's one thing I struggle to understand, it's why everyone thinks I should pick a side on an issue without thinking about it. As I've said before, I think I'm patently incapable of being anything but myself, and sometimes, that means I take my time to come to a conclusion. Perhaps it's attributable to my career; I'm a natural fit for clinical therapy, at least through the social work lens, because I see both sides of many debates very easily.

Therefore, while I've been looking forward to this trip to Star Island anyway, the added bonus is that it will forcibly shut my social media mouth for a week. I'll also miss the planning board's ultimate decision regarding what they will recommend to City Council regarding the process of considering the salmon farm, but I know I'll hear about it as soon as I get back.

I've also been debating whether to take down my posts from while I was at the planning board public hearing, because they're pretty brusque and cynical - but I've ultimately decided to leave them up, though I'm going to edit the grammar, to be true to myself, and clear about my own foibles. I was expressing my thoughts at the time. I still think the new guy who hijacked the podium and tried to rile up the crowd was a narcissistic twerp, though.

At the beginning of next week, when the kids and I return, I'm planning a series of blog posts about municipal government and what it all means. How many people know what the role of a city's planning board is? What about the various appointed committees (including one I quit) - who knows what they are for? I'd like to write all of this down to summarize and make city government understandable for anyone with an interest.

So - happy trails! See you next week!

Politics and parenthood

So some close-minded idiot publicly questioned my ability to run for office as a mother of small children.

Why does no one ask this question of fathers of young children?

Does motherhood make one less deserving of representation? Are children less deserving of time spent with fathers? Does working to represent my family’s interests in the political sphere diminish in value because of the more traditional mothering time I might sacrifice?

Currently, the one person representing my particular interests in this state who has young children is state representative Erin Herbig, and I am very grateful for her presence. City Council’s currently youngest member does have school-aged children but they are significantly older. Poliquin, Thibodeaux, Arrison, and our mayor - people I see as ostensibly my other representatives - are so far removed from my position in life the idea of them representing any perspective of my family is ludicrous.

That also brings up the income class discrepancy. I am part of a working middle class family on the east side. Like many similar families, I have credit card debt, and Stafford loan debt, plus exorbitant childcare costs in order for us to work to pay off that debt, our mortgage, and our bills. We do not have any investments or savings. We have an extra credit card for emergencies and we are blessed with good health insurance through both of our employers. That’s better than many.

And it’s an accurate representation of my side of town, and my income class in this oligarchical caste system. Not one single Belfast City Councilor has to deal with this. Not one of them must cope with childcare costs. Nor do any of them fall into an income class level below upper middle class.

Is this a horrible thing? Is it a crime to be more financially successful than I currently am? Assuredly not. I look up to all of these people with hope for my own future. But how can they possibly represent my interests, struggles, challenges, and needs, when they are personally so far removed from my current position in life?

If I wait to represent parents - yes, even mothers - of young families, I will lose valuable perspective, because the challenges that face any given population change from year to year. And if I wait to represent the working class - hell, we’ll never be represented accurately. Because who else is raising their hand in my age group AND income class?

I want my children to know that they matter. I want to empower both my four year old daughter and my seven year old son to advocate for themselves and their neighbors. I will keep hugging them, I will continue to take them lots of places, I will continue to make cakes and casseroles, and I will go to their school functions. And the ones I can’t make because of whatever political path unfolds? Oh, that’s right, they have a second parent who loves them just as much as I do. Just like sometimes I attend school functions solo because of his job, sometimes he can attend solo because of mine, and our kids will learn balance by example.

So, disrespectfully, to hell with you, sir. When we met at City Hall for a public hearing and you said you were considering running for Ward 5, I encouraged you to do it. Apparently you are still considering it, despite, as far as I can see, you having never even attempted volunteering for a city committee. You should still go for it. And by all means continue to suggest that being a mother of young children means I shouldn’t run, as well as bring up my volunteer participation on a city committee that I ended up feeling was a waste of my time. You just keep going there, bud.

Bring. It. On. I’m a working class mother of young children. And I’m going to win.

Salmon Farm Thoughts

I will admit that I have avoided this subject, which is highly unlike me. But I’ve been searching for answers, and all I come up with are more questions, plus some serious fear and pain on all sides of the great debate. Should Belfast support the introduction of a Norwegian salmon farm?

I have more questions than answers.

Do I care about the disruption of the natural beauty? In a state with a tourism based economy, I most certainly do care about that. It is something very real that we should take into consideration. It is relatively recent in our history that Belfast has been a bastion of tourism. Previously we were a fairly disgusting chicken town, with an economy in the tank and fewer jobs than ever.

Speaking of, do I care about the potential for additional jobs? Absolutely. Tourism jobs are available less than half the year. However, I want to know what kind of local training this company is committed to providing. The jobs are not unskilled. We have seen companies from Athena to Bank of America come in here and expect inexperienced individuals to magically fit their jobs - and then outsource when they don’t. Is this company committed to local education and employment?

Do I care about the fact that this whole thing seems extremely rushed? And that there is vitriol being spewed on all sides with some particularly defensive comments coming from the direction of local government? Yes. Anger, fear, and defensiveness do not create a good environment for success. I have not been given a good answer yet for why the process cannot be slowed in order to assuage everyone’s fears and work out a lot of different details. 

Do I care about how a salmon’s life feels to the salmon? Believe it or not, I do. I do think as a species it is our responsibility to be as humane to the other species we eat as possible. There is a reason I have processed my own chickens. I eat the chickens, knowing that they had a good life and were humanely slaughtered. So, are there ways in land-based salmon farms to ensure the salmon are treated humanely? Is this company going to do that?

I want someone in the middle (is there anyone left?!!) to sit down and explain it to me. And then I want to do my own research. I want to talk to my friends at Craig Brook National Fish Hatchery in Orland and some of the people developing the marine magnet school in Searsport. I want to read about land-based fish farming, which I do recognize as the future of eating seafood because of the extent 

And if you have a comment - please, could you link to where you got your information from? As in, not just, “I’m so tired of this because I’m right and you’re an idiot so there.” I am neither wrong nor right at the moment because I don’t know enough either way!! I want to know your sources and I’ll research where those sources get their funding from myself. THEN when I have an opinion feel free to bite my head off. :-)






Sent from my iPhone

Hello, Maine

I am frequently asked what led me to Maine. The answer is a story of Gen-X disillusionment, working class struggles, and financial desperation, with an exceedingly rare blissful ending.

Prior to living in Maine, I lived in Lubbock, Texas, or, as I like to call it, the ass-end of hell. The whole town is segregated - seriously, all of the people of color are on one side of the highway, and all of the white people are on the other side of the highway. The only school in town that teaches evolution is the Catholic school. The public schools teach “intelligent design” and are also prone to referring to the American Civil War as the War of Northern Aggression. Oh, and everyone in town looks the other way, pretending not to see each other, when they buy liquor. Don’t even get me started on the Boom Boom Cabaret, just outside of the city, a classy establishment that a large percentage of the white male population frequents and then lies to their upstanding Protestant wives about it.

Don’t get me wrong - I have nothing against strip clubs. Everybody’s got to make a living, and you only have to look at the covers of magazines in Hannaford to understand that sex sells. I was sad when the topless coffee shop in Augusta burned down. Who doesn’t like the female form, right? What I personally don’t like is hypocrisy.

I was not born in Lubbock. I was born at a naval hospital in Kingsville, Texas, and was raised for most of my life in Houston. I ended up in Lubbock by choice, which meant I actively chose to suffer for four years. My reason? Grad school. I had listened to all of the allegedly well-meaning college advisors and majored in a subject I loved: history. And when I didn’t know what to do with that degree, I went to grad school and got my MA in military history. You see where this is going. After that first round of grad school, I ignored my inner voice, the one that told me to quit the academic path and either be a dog groomer or a manager at the Walmart where I worked, and instead began a PhD program at Texas Tech University.

I was quickly miserable. There is a degree of backbiting egoism in academia that I had not previously encountered in my bachelor’s and master’s programs at my little commuter school, Sam Houston State University. It became abundantly clear to me that a future as a professor was not for me. I am simply not a part of that particular brand of gentrification. Despite a high GPA, I failed my first attempt at comprehensive exams, meaning I didn’t make it to being “ABD” - all but dissertation. Passing comprehensive exams is similar to passing the bar exam in law school - you can try as many times as you like, until you pass. But I realized that I was not going to do any better on subsequent attempts, and took it as a final sign that I did not belong in that particular world. I have never regretted that decision.

So I wrote, professionally, for a time. I set up several contracts with websites containing news and travel articles, and it provided enough of an income to survive. I searched desperately for a regular job, and I had no snobbery about it - I applied to everywhere from Starbucks to Home Depot and beyond. I applied to be a 911 dispatcher and even began researching how to become a police officer, because the police department in Lubbock is always hiring (and always firing, too). The bottom had dropped out of the economy, and again and again, I was rejected.

What I was really desperate for, beyond the minimum “must make enough to eat and have shelter” was to get out of Lubbock, and I was fortunate enough to have the fates push me in that direction. While I was writing an article about the Peace Corps, I came across the website for AmeriCorps. I had never heard of AmeriCorps before and was quickly sucked in to the possibilities. Finally, something that appealed to my desire to work with my hands thatcoincided with my own values, as well.

The night that I discovered AmeriCorps, I didn’t go to sleep. I spent all night looking up options, uploading resumes, requesting transcripts and contacting my references. As I sat in front of my aging Mactop, dreaming of the possibilities, I thought about what I wanted, if I were able to wherever I could possibly want. I narrowed it down to two priorities: cold and sparsely populated. Third, in the back of my mind,I wanted to live near water, but I assumed that nowhere near water would be sparsely populated.

Then I found Maine. A program in Belfast, The Game Loft, was looking for an AmeriCorps VISTA. The rest, as they say, is history. I put in my application in the middle of the night on a Sunday. Monday I was called for an initial interview. I was interviewed by the program directors Wednesday. Friday I had a plane ticket to go to Maine to find a place to live.

Ten years later, I’m still here. And I don’t ever want to leave.