when grown women act like they're in junior high

you know that moment when someone calls you out of the blue and is angry with you? you get a whole litany of complaints from them, some which are perfectly valid, but they were so off your radar that you’re taken aback by the whole thing? it’s an instant of insight into another perspective; one which you definitely would never have arrived at on your own.

during that phone conversation (which feels strange in and of itself, because honestly, who makes phone calls anymore these days?), you realise that the person actually just wants to be mad and doesn’t want to resolve anything with you. she just wants to communicate her anger. repeatedly and insistently. and she definitely does not want to listen to you, nor does she actually want the information that she claims you have been withholding from her. she mostly seems to want to give you lessons about a culture that you clearly don’t understand, what with your being a foreigner and all. and while it’s all very unpleasant, people are entitled to their emotions. and sometimes situations make us angry. but you’re actually quite zen about it because you have no vested emotions in this person. you’d met her a few times, but actually felt quite ambivalent about her, not disliking, but not liking either. and you chalk the whole thing up to what you have to endure if you’re going to head up a little artsy organisation involving a bunch of women. because women are always worst to one another (why is that?).

however, it doesn’t stop there. the angry person takes to facebook and airs her complaints publicly on the group’s facebook page. you’re traveling for work at the time and don’t have time to address the complaints in the public forum, but thankfully one of the other members does so. a few weeks later, when you try to do so and actually to thank her for motivating the board to start an electronic newsletter to keep members informed, you discover that you are blocked from commenting on the post. and also on another post, which is complaining that the angry woman can’t see the information you posted about an upcoming event. and you realise that the reason she can’t see it, or any of your other posts, is that she has blocked you. and you investigate how one goes about that on facebook and you realise that it’s not something that could have been done by accident – it had to have been intentional. she wanted to spew her complaints and she didn’t want you to be able to answer them. and while that’s normal behaviour on the internet, it’s actually not that often that you encounter it in real life. and you move away from ambivalence towards dislike.

but you try to actually curb your knee-jerk response to such a person and handle it from another, more zen place. so you send an email with the comment that you wanted to post, praising her for sharing her experience with the group and for prompting us to start a tiny letter newsletter. and you say that it’s perfectly ok that she has blocked you on facebook (and you actually mean it), but that she should know that it’s why she can’t see the information you post in the group and could she kindly refrain from publicly complaining about that when she has chosen it herself.

she responds with pleas of a lack of tech savvy and asks you to explain how she can fix it. so you play tech support and give her a detailed description of where/how you block and unblock people (after googling your way to how it's done). and when she stops by the exhibition, you also show her the same on your own computer, which you happen to have along. but you maintain a wary distance and are not warm and friendly, because hello, she did block you and now she’s standing right in front of you, lying to your face about it.

some hours later, you hear that she proceeded to go down to the square and talk shit about you to several of your friends. and with that, you’ve had enough and you write to her once again, kindly asking her to please take the conversation directly with you and not go around talking about you on the streets. and, while lying to you directly that she hadn’t done so, like a child, picking up their toys and going home – she petulantly picks up her paintings from the exhibition and says she is leaving the group. and you wonder how grown women (seriously, she's in her 60s) can behave like that.

maybe we really do learn how to behave when we’re in junior high.

and then your ambivalence returns. and you realise it’s all just fodder for an eventual novel. if people didn’t want you to write about them unfavourably, they should have been nicer.

recovering (and grateful)

i am ever, ever, ever so grateful to good, creative friends who make me laugh and who let me vent and swear and then make me laugh some more. and who pour me a glass of wine when it's needed. and sometimes even when it's not. i am grateful for these days where i have time to devote to the last details for making our local creative workshop/library/culture house awesome. i am grateful to super creative people to collaborate with - like the person who made this dinosaur on which i was allowed to paint the final details. i am grateful to people who are large in the face of smallness. it makes the smallness matter so much less. and i am grateful for husband and how he helps me stay on an even keel. and i am grateful that my new job is just around the corner. and i am grateful for glorious autumn days and even those that are a bit blustery. and for purring lap cats and brand new kittens. and for the pear tree and the last of the tomatoes. for molly (the cat and my cat love friend in cape town). and for not being in a holding pattern anymore. and for proper mexican food and especially tortillas coming to denmark at last. and chairs that are not boring. and nordic light. and men who do dishes. and for being seen for who i am and what i have to offer. for the way that wounds heal. for doors closing and other ones opening. for husband. and sabin. and the security of home and belonging that enables me to fly. and new clothes. and good friends. so much to be grateful for, life feels like it's overflowing. and it's about time.

mass murders and other disappointments

i've been searching for words about the most recent school shooting in oregon. although i do have strong opinions about this topic (get the guns out of the hands of the maniacs and everyone else), there are so many (kristoff, bruni, blow) who have said it better than i. or just look at these sobering gun death statistics that good assembled. or did you know that there have been 994 mass shootings in 1004 days? and there, on a guardian graphic, were the words platte, south dakota and six red bodies to signify 6 lives ended by a mass murderer (who also happened to be their father/husband). what will it take for change to come? how many people have to die over a misinterpretation of the constitution?

* * *

i'm hoping that when my new job begins (october 19, i'm counting down the days), that the daily nightmares i've been having about the jerk who did away with my job in lego will go away. i think they were brought on by seeing him a week or so ago and having him nearly refuse to shake my hand in front of a bunch of people. it apparently weighs heavily on my subconscious, as he's been making nightly rude appearances in my dreams. 

* * *

i'm also looking forward to my new job because it means that i have a good excuse to step down from the increasingly problematic local board i'm on. i've worked hard for more than three years and now our wonderful new library/community space is up and running. i can make all of the things happen there that i am interested in making happen (salon evenings, creative workshops in a creative space, debate evenings, board game evenings, spoken word, pecha kucha, etc.) through the other board i'm on. it seems the one that "governs" the house is falling to pieces. the chair of it has been through a horrible personal crisis and instead of stepping aside, has become a control freak who wants all the credit and doesn't want to do any of the work. another member of questionable graphics talent pushed his idea for a logo through without considering other submitted contributions. and the muttering person who is obviously bitter for having lived the wrong life has decided that it's enough that we serve some stale, donated chips and cheap box wine at the big opening reception this upcoming thursday (this despite that we had a 10,000kr budget for food). i am no longer proud of the work being done by the group, so i will be stepping down from it. and it will be an enormous relief. and i am a bit grateful to them for feeding the characters for my novel.

* * *

and speaking of that muttering deficit person, i noticed today that she had actually had the nerve to switch places in our creative workshop with someone who was on holiday, taking the better spot by the window and the better cupboard for herself. there is a chance she agreed it with that person, but it still seems really underhanded to do it while she was away. how can grown women behave like this?

the season's first amanitas

hey man, get those poisonous things away from me!

that story from my hometown just gets worse and worse, so i thought i'd lighten things up with the season's first gorgeous amanitas. they are so bright and beautiful - they're the stuff of fairytales; every year, i feel delighted and surprised by them. i never tire of their bright red polka-dotted beauty. and today, with all of the bad news coming through (i didn't know these people, but somehow, i do feel the effect on my hometown, even here across an ocean), finding a small moment of delight in nature was much needed.

hold onto your moments of delight, you never know when you will need them.

the power of prayer...to provoke

"When very bad things happen around the world, people search for news; they do not search for prayers, the Bible, the Quran or anything related to religion." - Seth Stephens-Davidowitz, Googling for God

i took comfort in the quote above when i read it in yesterday's new york times. when you look around sometimes, it can seem like the whole world is filled with religious fanatics, but it seems that the trend is actually in the opposite direction, with more people than ever identifying as atheist or agnostic. and that somehow gives me hope.

late last week, a terrible tragedy occurred in the little town where i grew up. a whole family - mom, dad and four children, were killed when their home burned down during the night. i didn't know them, but recognize that it is truly a horrible event with a very big impact on a small community. i immediately went in search of news of the tragedy and found an article on the website of the nearest town with a daily paper, the mitchell daily republic. this link is not the original version of the article, it was updated over the next couple of days, to include more facts about the events. but the initial version had very few facts and a whole lot of god in it. and i have to admit that i felt sorely provoked by that. a daily newspaper that can't even provide the facts of a story, but instead manages a couple of quotes from distraught community members about how they're praying about it and providing ministerial support for the children of the school district. thankfully, they were also providing school counselors, even calling in some from other schools, but what happened to the constitutionally mandated separation of church and state?

there was another article later the same night with even more religion and quotes from two ministers (apparently they're the ones willing to speak to the press) about how the family was well-prepared to meet their maker. yes, really. click the link. interestingly, no one was asking where god was when the fire started. if you believe in such things, that might be the pertinent question.

i've been pondering all weekend why this provoked me as much as it did. i think, like many things, it's a complex web of reasons. an eternal struggle to distance myself from provincial practices. worries about sending my child into that den of fundamentalism next year. an undoubtedly haughty disdain for small, religious thinking brought on by years of over-education and global living and observation of a world made a worse place to be by religious fundamentalism of every stripe. in short, the personal baggage that i carry around. and when something awful happens, it triggers a deep reaction in us and mine was one of disdain for those wishing to see this tragedy through the lens of a god that was apparently not benevolent enough to keep it from happening.

times of tragedy and loss make us need comfort. the comfort of a community gathering together is a powerful thing. we proved at the storytelling evening for my father last november, that being together, sharing stories and laughter and tears and affection and more laughter are enough, there's no need to bring god into it. i have nothing against privately having a word with a higher being or beings, but can't we keep it private, just between us and her/him/them? does it have to be splashed across the pages of our newspapers too?

UPDATE: the story gets worse, much worse. autopsy results have revealed that the wife and four children were murdered before the husband apparently set fire to the place and turned the gun on himself. i really do wonder if they were as prepared to meet their maker as that minister suggested...

wednesday witterings

i have wasted 24 hours of energy and sacrificed a good night's sleep over the most ridiculous casual vacancy-esque local control-freak, power-hungry, senseless game-playing situation that should never have been a situation. but i always think of these things as fodder for an eventual novel. or at least a memoir. i do wonder when i'm going to get around to writing that? and somehow, just like that, my brain cleared of it sometime this afternoon. possibly because we are having glorious autumn weather - sunny days, just the right temperature, no wind. i am so affected by the weather, both good and bad. and by a new set of possibilities opening up. dare i say there is excitement and hope stirring in the days ahead? and a trip to copenhagen.

clinging to the light

so much unnecessary madness today, i am clinging to the last, golden rays of autumnal sunshine.

more tomorrow.

believe me, i have a story to tell...

resisting fundamentalism

amber waves of grain in denmark, but it could just as easily have been taken in south dakota

with the child away at boarding school this year and with plans for her to go to high school in my little hometown in the states next year, we are easing back into the life of an adult couple around here. we're less likely to eat dinner at a specific time, we watch netflix or hbo nordic until midnight, we sit in the garden and have deep philosophical discussions, or lie on the trampoline and stare at the sky, we spontaneously decide to go out to dinner. we do miss her, but it continues to be ok in our minds that she's moving on to the next step. plus, without her around, there's no one plaguing us to build a pool.

it might be different next year when she's an ocean away, rather than just 30 minutes. i also worry about how religious that little town i grew up in has become. yes, there were always 12 churches, but it seems that aggressive christianity is just so much more pervasive than when i was a kid. even in the answers given to reporters for stories like this one. such a tragic and yet heartwarming story and yet they had to go all jesus at the end. i worry about that. i see it as a symptom of fundamentalism no less heinous than that purveyed by the taliban and isis. 

in denmark, some immigrants talk about sending their children back to their home country for genopdragelse - or "re-raising." this, in most instances, means back to pakistan or turkey to learn the old ways and be more in touch with their native religion. in my case, while i want sabin to learn more of where she comes from and how much her grandfather meant to the community, i do not want her to be steeped in religion while she's there. i love the secular life we lead in denmark. i love that what people believe is personal and private and not flashed in everyone's face all of the time; you don't have to participate in religious rituals to be considered a good member of society. i love that the child wisely said, in choosing to be baptised and confirmed, that you can be interested in god without believing in god. in denmark, there are even ministers who admit they don't believe. that would never fly in small town south dakota.

i am confident that sabin is a strong person with a good head on her shoulders. she has a quality where she is able to float above the fray without being snooty or arrogant. she seems at once grounded and above it all, which is a delicate balance to strike and i don't think it's something you can learn (i certainly don't have it), i think it's something you must have in you innately. i'm hoping it gets her through the year in a community where the aggressive, fundamentalist christianity of the local youth group forces the young people to hammer hundreds of nails into a cross to represent their many sins. talk about a need for genopdragelse...

my cousin, who she's going to stay with while she's there, isn't like that, but it may be hard to resist when the social life in the little town is steeped in religion. i understand that they may have forgotten some of the separation of church and state mandated by the constitution - with ministers speaking at graduation and prayers at the sports ball games. we'll have to see what can be done about those things, without placing the child in the middle of a fight. we simply have to be vigilant against fundamentalism in all of its incarnations if we're to stop this downward spiral the world is on...maybe we have to do that right here, in our own backyards, just by beginning to question it and not just accepting it when it's shoved down our throats. it must be possible for a community to rally around an orphaned young man without bringing god into it.

what is to be done?

somehow, reading this piece on incorporating the maker movement into schools, as a learning/problem-solving tool, makes me wonder if we should have tried harder to make it work with our local school. but we had tried for a whole year and it felt like time was running out. with unresponsive, slippery (i honestly wonder if they're part eel) leadership, that smiles and nods to your face and fills the air with fluffy spindoctor speak and then goes away and does nothing, it felt like such a daunting task, so we gave up and moved sabin to a new school. we are blown away at the difference already and it's only been a little over a week - she's motivated, she sits down and diligently does her homework every evening (and she actually HAS homework every evening) and she comes home talking about what she learned (even stuff about hitler!). she never did that at the old school, not once. getting her to tell something about school was like pulling teeth.

but some part of me thinks that the old school should have had to get their ducks in a row and shape up. they should have been required to perform and even excel. and we should have been proud and happy to be there. they owe it to the community, because little communities like this depend on having smart, motivated people to keep them going. we pay a lot of tax (don't get me started) and i wouldn't mind it if i saw results here within my community. and with a grade point average of 4.7 as opposed to the 7.1 of the school we moved to, it wasn't even a contest. and apparently the local superintendent insists that the school is ambitious and that the scores are exactly where they should be. which is the whole problem. how can, what is arguably a D+ average on a comparable american scale, possibly be deemed ambitious? even the schools which are full of the purportably problem immigrants have much higher scores than that. and these are normal, bright, middle class kids with danish parents (hmm, i wonder if the immigrants are really so bad?) so there's honestly no excuse.

but i still feel very sad about the whole thing, even while i'm sure we made the right decision. the class itself was great - socially, they functioned just fine, everyone had someone to be friends with and there was no serious bullying. the problem was the teachers and even more so leadership that tries again and again to cover up problems and doesn't welcome conversation and dialogue which could lead to solving them. frankly, our little town deserves better. it's too bad that so many of us (as of tuesday this week, 9 will have moved from the class of 26) had to choose to leave instead of continuing the dialogue. our kids deserve better and we simply couldn't wait any longer.

* * *

stupid things hard-core christians say.

hilarious, but also really, really sad.

and possibly more than a little disturbing.

the teachers you remember - a post without pictures

we all have teachers we remember...sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for not so good ones.

~ mrs. polly, who made us try sardines on saltines in kindergarten and who made sheila madsen disappear after she cried at school, leaving one thinking one had better not cry at school or one might disappear oneself. tom pranger also cried and both he and his brother tim, who did not cry, disappeared as well. crying was not a good thing to do in kindergarten.

~ mrs. bushman, who divided us all into blue birds, red birds and yellow birds according to our ability to read "saw" as "saw" and not "was" and to not leave a puddle of pee beneath our desks on a regular basis. come to think of it, you could still be a blue bird and pee your pants regularly, as jody hoekman proved again and again, so it must just have had to do with reading ability.

~ mrs. luze, who was the subject of a horrible joke by my father, who stamped one of my worksheets with a "horseshit" smiley stamp and asked her if that wasn't a little harsh. she stared at him in wide-eyed horror, her jackie o bouffant perfectly coiffed (it was the 70s, but the 60s lingered on in south dakota, we were a little behind, after all).

~ miss maryann. my favorite grade school teacher. she who taught us about chicken soup with rice and allowed us to choose spelling words like uruguay and triskaidekaphobia. she was in a horrible car accident and ended up in a body cast in pierre. i think i had nightmares about that for years afterwards. i think her husband owned the seattle mariners for awhile at one point. or was it the super sonics?

~ mrs. petersen. she put up with horrendous plays we made up ourselves, based on various combinations of nancy drew and the hardy boys. they were interminable and she allowed them, but she punished us by making us sit together in desk groupings with boys.

~ mr. teller. he lived in the apartment across from my grandmother and always had the yuckiest warm coffee breath which he breathed on you in a moist, uncomfortable way if you asked him a question. not that long ago, dad mentioned that he was a vietnam vet with issues. that i did not realize at the time...the vet part at least (tho' of course, for years, i thought veteran's day was veterinarian's day, so there was that aspect), i do, however, think i picked up on the issues.

~ mrs. blunck. she had been a teacher for too long and hated children. i remember when i wore my first pair of high heels to the 6th grade...they had awesome wooden, chunky heels and were brown leather with colorful leather stitches. she told me to wait to grow up. which, in retrospect, might have been wiser than i thought it was at the time. but i still maintain she hated children. and i think she might actually have been a man. a very short, stout, child-hating man.

~ mrs. walker. the superintendent's wife, with her severe haircut, gabardine pantsuits and cowboy boots. on the day ronald reagan was shot, they announced it over the school's pa system. i, perhaps a bit too cheerily, and with more than a tinge of hope in my voice, asked, "is he dead?" and she made the entire class stay after school because of my disrespect for the president (that made me very popular, i tell you). i was already a liberal in the 7th grade. i will say tho', that she taught me how to draw using perspective and for that, i am grateful, tho' i've never been that fond of polyester since then.

~ mrs. tappe. she always seemed classy and a little bit above the fray and like she didn't really need the job but did it just for fun. she taught us girls how to take shorthand and do other officey-things, like filing, that girls should learn in those days. i liked her and i liked shorthand too.

~ mrs. leistra. gabardine and cowboy boots - she and mrs. walker clearly shopped the same fashion crime scene, but she had an even more severe haircut. i learned to type from her on an ibm selectric. i'm still using that skill at this very moment (tho' i have thankfully graduated to an apple product) and no, i don't need to look at my keyboard. tho' maybe i'd have learned it anyway as i'm pretty much bred to be good at typing.

~  mr. hirt. they gave him history because it didn't matter that much (maybe they knew we'd eventually be able to google any historical knowledge we needed to know). he was actually the football and wrestling coach. he could be easily led astray during a boring recounting of the civil war and made to tell stories of the brave wrestlers of the university of iowa, which always seemed a little bit like being in a john irving novel, so i liked it. i believe i eventually went to the university of iowa because of him, but oddly, i don't think he went there himself.

~ mr. schaefer. i'll never forget the day he droned on and on about filling out tax forms while dressed as gilligan (tho' i have a more hazy recollection of why he did that). he looked strikingly like gilligan even in his regular attire and it was very difficult not to laugh during the entire hour. i think there was more to him than we realized at the time. he coached girls basketball.

~ mr. harvison. bitter man who, despite the triple major to which he loved to refer, never really seemed to amount to all that much himself. he was, naturally, appointed guidance counselor, as we weren't really supposed to amount to all that much either, being from a small town as we were. we shouldn't have too many aspirations. after all, we could never live up to mr. harvison's own triple major. i was never clear what it was in, but when he taught psychology, he liked to use, by name, various people in town and former students as examples of the various psychoses (there's likely a whole other blog post in recounting those). i spent my time in his physics class reading dostoevsky. i think it's probably why i eventually got a fulbright. funnily, enough, i don't think mr. harvison ever got one of those.

~ mr. markhart. the math teacher. he had a ruler and he wasn't afraid to wack it against a desk. i think i was actually better at geometry than i was supposed to be as a girl, but managed to pull myself back to the level where i belonged where algebra was concerned. mr. markhart wanted us to think he was strict, but actually, he liked kids and got more of a kick out of us than he let on. and we really did learn stuff from him, and not only how much force it took to break a wooden ruler, but actual math and things.

what teachers do you remember?

election day in denmark

it's election day in denmark. we vote for the municipal and regional representatives. i say we, because even i, as a non-citizen, can vote in the municipal and regional election. there are a lot of parties in denmark - left (which is actually right), conservative, the danish people's party (dansk folkeparti - they're just a shade to the left of nazis), social democrats, socialists, radicals, a left party called enhedslisten, which wants to send denmark into an ecstatic state of fourierian utopian socialism.

i have a pretty clear idea from the national level, what each party stands for, but it gets a little murky and diluted at the municipal level. and tho' you'd think the regions are between national and municipal, in denmark, they're not (basically all they decide about is the hospitals), they're really a third tier. DR, the national media outlet, has a quiz you can take to determine who you should vote for (there are so many candidates and you can only vote for one, so it's hard to know what each individual might stand for). the candidates were asked to the take the quiz as well and then the results match you with the ones whose answers were the most like yours. here are my results:

they illustrate nicely how far the local politicians are from their national party lines. i come out as most in agreement with someone from enhedslisten, which is at the far left of the spectrum on the national level. tho' i am not an advocate of utopian socialism, i could possibly be inclined towards their thinking, so the result isn't that surprising. what is, however, surprising, is that the candidate i'm next most in agreement with is from venstre, (which tho' literally left, is actually right), the second most right wing party in the country. on the side i least agree with, it doesn't surprise me that at the top is a member of dansk folkeparti, the party which has done all they can in the years i've been in denmark to capitalize on fear and demonize immigrants. what is surprising is the place in that column of a member of enhedslisten - that means that their two candidates represent the opposite ends of the spectrum in our local election.

the person that i was planning on voting for doesn't even make either list, which leaves me a bit in doubt. she is, however, one of the few i've actually spent time talking to about the issues, so perhaps that should count for more than the results of some media quiz.

tho' there is generally high voter turnout in denmark, people are saying they will stay home from this election. i personally think it's because there are too many candidates and people feel they can't get their head around it to know who to vote for (i know i feel that way). however, i do intend to exercise my right to vote. i think it's important and i'm grateful that i'm legally allowed to do so, despite not being a citizen. what happens in my municipality (which is more like a county in american terms) affects me, so i'm pleased that i have a say.  with so many candidates, the election can be decided by just a few votes, so it might even be that my vote actually counts.

i'll have to do some more thinking before i go in and tick that box later today, but i know already now that it's not going to be a member of dansk folkeparti. i never did like their politics, but last week, their "equality spokeswoman" spoke out against a toy store catalog that had featured boys playing with girl toys and vice versa, saying it was "perverse." that level of perverse thinking will definitely not be getting my vote. nor will anyone from venstre, whose national leader is in trouble (again again) for flying first class to the tune of 700,000 kroner in his capacity as director of a dodgy environmental organization (GGGI). not to mention at a more local level, one of the politicians from venstre declared in a neighboring municipality that "it's over with approaching the municipality in english."

i imagine i'll land somewhere in the middle and probably vote for the woman who seemed sensible and intelligent when i spoke with her a few weeks ago, even tho' she's not a member of the party i most identify with (radikale). sometimes you just have to go with your gut.

bullying: nothing will change if you can't discuss it

i've got bullying on the brain. a week or so ago, several parents in our community called a town meeting to raise awareness of bullying in our community. i saw a sign about it at the library, but it was the same day that i spent at the food co-creation event and i only got back to town as it was starting and i still hadn't fed my family yet at that point, so i didn't go, even tho' i was curious about it. earlier in the year, i worked on english subtitles for a danish program about bullying that was broadcast on DR1. while my own child doesn't have problems with it (either as bully or bullied, thank goodness) at school, i know it's a big issue in schools and frankly, in the workplace and other places among adults.

it turned out that very few people attended the meeting that evening. and the reason is a disturbing one. apparently teachers at the 0-6 school had taken down the signs about the meeting and spread the word that it had been canceled. and quite a lot of parents must have believed it, as only a handful came to a meeting where they were expecting to have more people there than were allowed by the fire code (that would have been 150+). why would teachers not want this important topic to be discussed, i wondered?

the issue moved to the pages of the local newspaper in the days that followed. the first article reported on the meeting - three parents of children who were bullied told their sad and harsh stories. the reporter expressed that it was too bad no one from the bully's side had shown up and that there was no debate on the topic, as had been planned, since it was only the bullied side that was present.

but that must have not been quite correct, as the next day, there was an interview with the principal of the 7-9th grade school, where she said she had attended the meeting and thought it was a shame that she was never given the chance to speak. the first article had indicated that there was no one else present who wanted to speak, so i wonder if she didn't even try to speak up that evening.

she confirmed that the posters had been taken down by teachers at the other school, but said that they would have to speak for their own actions, she wouldn't do so for them. she also indicated that the school acts immediately in cases of bullying, talking to both the children involved and their parents immediately. she gave a recent example of a student who had used a fellow student's gym bag as a toilet and was going to be replacing his bag. she did admit that teachers and school leadership could only do something about incidents which they knew about and that undoubtedly other things happened at school that were never reported and thus not acted upon. fair enough that the teachers cannot be everywhere at all times.

things were quiet for a couple of days and then the story of the worst bullying incident came out in the newspaper. the story had been told at the meeting that evening, but too few had heard it. it was a case of systematic bullying over two years, which resulted in the boy in question growing increasingly angry and violent himself and eventually he, as the bullied, was kicked out of school. he was also diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of the bullying and spent several months away from school. he's now started in a new school, as it was impossible for him to return. a sad tale indeed.

only one side of the tale has been told, as the school claims to be under a confidentiality agreement not to discuss the case. all of the parents received a letter from the superintendent who is responsible for both local schools, on friday (the day after the article appeared). the tone of the letter is very defensive and, in my view, not at all willing to admit that there is an issue. he claims that they have been "hung out" and that not all of the stories are true and that it's quite difficult to have to just "sit back and take it," due to the confidentiality agreement. the letter tries only to shut down the discussion, not open up for an honest conversation that might lead to solutions and new thinking around ways of handling bullying.

then, on monday, a politician got involved and has asked the school for a written explanation of the events in the story of the boy who ended up with PTSD. the explanation will be handled on a political, municipal level by the division of children and young people. it will be interesting to see what comes of it.

i find it sad that it's such a sensitive issue that it seems to be impossible for the school to open up and talk about it. no one wants there to be bullying so bad that a child is chased out of school completely, but to not be able to discuss it is a tragedy. how can anyone learn from the experience and prevent the next one if it's surrounded by defensiveness and a lack of open, honest discussion?

in the program i worked with in the early spring, many of the teachers were also very closed and unwilling to discuss the topic, some of them actually resorted to bullying tactics themselves on the man who was making the program, ignoring him and not letting him join them for lunch when he asked. unless they are involved in the bullying themselves, i can't see why teachers wouldn't want to open up and look for solutions together with parents and the community as a whole?

it's a sad affair all around and i'm grateful that somehow or other it's not an issue that's affected our family or our child's love for school. a week or so ago, she was actually sick and insisted on going because she didn't want to miss out on what they'd be doing in class that week. so the school is doing something (and probably a whole lot of something) right, but they're not handling this bullying issue very well. not very well at all.

things are coming up raspberries

i know it's supposed to be roses, but i don't have any roses, so you get raspberries. you know i'm rather unconventional. why be like everyone else? but i digress.

remember that meeting i was looking forward to? because i was armed (or dressed, as they would say in danish - klædt på) with the real story behind the behavior of my buddy the troglodyte? well, it had an outcome that i wouldn't have imagined or dared to wish for in my wildest dreams. after two hours of heavy discussion, tho' not heated, oddly enough, he announced at the end of the meeting that he was resigning from the board. he had a prepared, typed speech, so it wasn't a decision he arrived at during the meeting. he cited a bunch of reasons - work, other boards he was involved with, projects, and his health (all likely valid). funnily enough he didn't mention his conflict of interest in the case. but i will be mentioning it in my novel. when i depict him as a cross-dressing geisha with a monkey. you know what they say, be nice to the writer or end up a character in her novel.

sorry. i'm gleeful, but apparently not yet ready to be charitable after all he put me through. i was very glad husband was beside me during the meeting and not across from me, where i could catch his eye. as it was, i'm sure i couldn't conceal my happiness. and i didn't even really try. tho' i did manage to restrain from actually getting up and doing a spontaneous happy dance.

but i'll tell you that if i'd had a bottle of bubbly in the fridge, we'd have cracked it open when we got home. even tho' it's a monday night.

knowing the story is the key

i read in the atlantic that storytelling may be the key to our evolution. whether that's true (or provable) or not, i know that it's the key to my ability to negotiate my way through the world. from the stories i tell myself in my head about various situations to the ones i relate out loud to generate a laugh to the ones i write for my clients, stories are pretty much the central feature of my existence.

this week, a very interesting story has unfolded that has made me so much more able to handle the situation with my nemesis the troglodyte. probably the biggest problem i've had with him has been that i could find no logic in his behavior or even for his involvement in the group, let alone his desire to so firmly grip the reins of control that everyone else's thoughts and contributions are obliterated. but thanks to a story, that all makes so much more sense. because it can all be explained by plain old boring selfish economic interest. it turns out that the troglodyte owns several properties which are adjacent to one of the potential locations for our project. his desire to place a new building on a square near his properties and his stubborn and oftentimes nasty refusal to consider the possibility of remodeling the existing building that's being used a "culture house" today make so much sense in light of his selfish interest in his own bottom line. i also learned that he's in the process of trying to sell the properties to a developer, one to whom he has undoubtedly promised that the new culture house will be built nearby and bring traffic to a new square right in front of the properties. hmm, i wonder if such petty little town kings (which are surely not rare) reflect in those world corruption list standings?

funnily enough, as the various options progress with our architect, it turns out that reusing just part of the old building will result in 1500 square meters of usable space for the money that's been budgeted, whereas a new building on the tiny lot on the square will result in 410 square meters of usable space. it seems there isn't much choice there. and it will be very interesting on monday evening to see what story he tells to he continue to justify his desire for the project on the square, adjacent to his own properties.

i have the most evil delicious sense of delight in the fact that he doesn't know that anyone knows that he's the owner. he doesn't realize how easy it is to google your way to answers. he's also been very dismissive of our group's online presence and the internet in general. it seems that one doesn't do well to underestimate the power of a girl and her computer. i can't wait for this story to unfold.

containing the bullshit

i think the next time i have to go to a danish association's yearly membership meeting, i'm going to ask husband to bring one of these containers home so there will be room to dispose of all of the bullshit.

actually, husband was a big help this evening, asking a lot of questions that got at the heart of the matter (and undoubtedly making himself as unpopular with our dear leader as i am). it was quite delightful watching the troglodyte squirm. what wasn't as delightful was watching his blatantly sexist reaction to one of the women who tried to ask questions as well - interrupting her, cutting her off and being completely condescending, which he did to none of the men who spoke. interesting that. it's getting to be quite a list of words ending in -ist that apply to him...sexist, racist, fascist, ageist, (is nepotist a word?)...i wonder where it will end?

i can tell you that in my novel, it ends in drag in a seedy nightclub.

taking lessons from the sea

the wind and the waves on the west coast of denmark have such a calming effect. when i was there on sunday, after the course, i didn't really need relaxing and to have my head cleared, but after a really bad night's sleep and another encounter with xenophobia, sexism, racism and bullying, which the culture house meetings have become, i could definitely use some of that pounding surf right now.

i try to replace the hurt feelings, which completely zap all of the good energy out of me with loving, comforting thoughts. but, like this heart in the expanse of sand, those thoughts shiver there, all alone.

and then, right there on the beach is a big, ugly cement bunker, which feels like it's lashed around my neck and i'm dragging it along, and it's filled with all of the bad karma of the xenophobia, sexism, racism and bullying (fascism?). and even tho' someone has written kærlighed (love) on the side of it, it's still an eyesore.

but i can shift it over to the side of my vision and take in the sand and the wind and the waves and the cold, cleansing air. and they wash over me and i can breathe again.

but there is still a big knot of unresolved tensions and hard feelings and well, xenophobia, sexism, racism, bullying and exclusion. and they're piled there, seemingly impossible to untangle.

so i turn once again to the clear expanse of sand and sea and wind and winter sunshine. and let the cold freeze it all away, replacing it with calm, an inner rhythm that matches the waves as they relentlessly continue to wash ashore, not letting anything stand in their way. and i choose to take my lesson from that.

more fodder for my book

as you all know, i am part of a local group that was elected in a more or less (emphasis on less) democratic process early last summer to oversee the establishment of a new "culture house" in our little town. the group is composed of 7 members and 2 non-voting extras (who perform a sort of runner-up role, in the event one of the elected members is unable to fulfill their duties, one of these will step up). this has already happened, as one of the members, fed up with the way the chairman behaves, recently resigned, so one of our runners-up has already stepped up to take his crown.

the chairman's latest bid in a series of methods for exercising control is to write a 17-point "business order" document for the group (apparently you can never have too much bureaucracy and by-laws, while holy writ, are not enough). it covers everything from how to conduct the first meeting (tho' that ship sailed long ago) to what the agenda should consist of to that the meetings are closed (tho' who would want to attend them if they didn't have to is beyond me) to who can call for meetings and how far ahead they must do so (it states the agenda must be sent out 8 days before the meetings, something which has never happened in the 9 months we've been meeting). probably the most interesting point is #4, which says that there is a chosen group within the larger group, called, literally, the "business chosen ones (forretningsudvalg)." this group consists of the chairman, the vice chairman and one chosen crony of their choice (because really, we can't trust the democracy and a group of seven can hardly be expected to get anything done, right?). it struck me as i read it that the soviet way of doing things isn't as dead and gone as one might think and that it apparently extended farther west than we realized.

even more interesting is another document accompanying the first one. it contains only four points, but they are a broad brush mandate for "the business chosen ones (forretningsudvalg)." it is the mandate of this group to:

1. take care of the daily interests of the board (not stated is why the board is incapable of this themselves).
2. only members of this group may contact public authorities, cooperation partners and the press.
3. this group can, when it's expedient/necessary, make fast decisions which affect the budget and/or the group as a whole to a high degree.
4. the group is responsible to the board and refers to the board.

in other words, the chosen ones can make whatever decisions they want whenever they want, without asking the board until afterwards. and it occurred to me that what i am a witness to here isn't so much soviet-style bureaucracy as fascism. after all, fascism postulates that a chosen few are not only allowed to dominate on behalf of the inferior elements of society, but they must do so for the common good. i should say that i do hesitate to throw the word fascism around, because as george orwell wrote in 1944, "the word 'fascism' is almost entirely meaningless ... almost any english person would accept 'bully' as a synonym for 'fascist'." basically, our troglodyte pal is moving to formalize (bureaucratize?) his mandate to bully the group as he sees fit.

the documents are so transparent in their attempt at control and happily, leave so many loopholes uncovered, that they are quite laughable. of course, in the early days of the nazis, their antics were also thought laughable and look where that led, so one has to be vigilant. for now, my inner anthropologist finds the documents give a fascinating insight into the mindset and yes, the fears, of the small-minded, small-hearted man who is, for whatever reason, at the helm of this group. he has exposed himself for all to see. and it's not a pretty sight. but it is fodder for my book. and for that, i am deliciously grateful.

growing up with guns

i really do hate to use one of my last posts leading to number 2000 on the connecticut shooting, but i find i have a bit more to say, so use it i shall. tho' i do think that what jenna said about it is so well put that there's not really more to say.

i got a mail from a friend about the way that he, like many of us americans, was raised around guns.  and i have to admit that i was too. we had a really lovely rather bauhaus-style pistol in the buffet drawer and a number of shotguns standing down at the bottom of the basement stairs. i remember peeking in the drawer at the pistol to scare myself or show it conspiratorially to some friend, but never actually daring to touch it. it wasn't loaded anyway and i don't recall any bullets in the buffet drawer, so i imagine it was quite harmless. and i also imagine it's still there, tho' i didn't check when i was home last summer.

i loved (and still do) the story about it - my mother had inherited it from her aunt, who had been married to a banker in sgt. bluff, iowa. back in the 50s, someone had tried to kidnap her - it was such a wild story that it was written up in a one of those 50s detective magazines, mostly because as i recall, aunt mimi was feisty enough to escape from the kidnappers. but afterwards, her husband bought the pistol to protect her, in case it happened again. and we ended up with it in our buffet drawer. i think my dad tried to sell it to someone at one point, but it came back shortly afterwards, so that didn't really stick.

i also remember as a kid going with my mom to trap shooting competitions - she was pretty good and could compete with the best of the men. i always thought that was pretty cool. and a little bit as my sister often says, "mom is such a boy." i spent a lot of time reloading her ammunition with the reloader we had in the back room - a little dose of gunpowder, some bb's, a cap and a crimp (probably not in that order). i quite enjoyed that as a child.

pheasant hunting is a big thing in the area where i grew up, so hunting was a normal thing to me. many a meal was spent spitting out shot bb's from bites of meat. i never tried shooting pheasants myself, but i remember both of my parents doing so (that was in the days before they were all pen-raised with little sunglasses on). my folks weren't deer hunters that i can recall - dad always said something about how it would really only be sporting when the deer had guns too, but we did occasionally get deer meat from someone else. even today, i'm by no means against hunting (we have a friend who we allow to hunt on our lake - and we thoroughly enjoyed some ducks not long ago), i just don't do it myself.

i remember some raffle or other where dad won a gun, which only added to the 3-4 already at the bottom of the basement stairs, but i don't recall those guns being used that much after mom stopped trap-shooting. sometimes against the odd rabbit that was eating the apple trees or a nasty opossom or skunk that came around. i know i never had any desire to either mess with the guns or use them or even learn about them. they were just there, a fact of life. and i had no interest in them at all.

in the second grade, i was given a bb gun for christmas. we still lived in town at that point and i was told that it was meant to be used to shoot the dog next door, who was a really annoying barker. i probably did plunk him a couple of times (he was really annoying), but mostly, i think we shot at cans with that bb gun. and it certainly couldn't have killed anything, at least not with my shooting skills.

last summer, while we were back home, my cousin took sabin and her cousins out shooting at cans and jars. sabin thought it was fun. and i think it's a fine activity as long as there is adult supervision and proper instruction, which there was.

the fact is that most americans grow up around guns. they're a fact of life, they're in people's homes. we also all know someone who had an accident with one...a kid in the grade ahead of me shot off his toe (it must have been where he kept his brain, because he never amounted to anything after that) and one of my sister's classmates accidentally shot his little brother in the eye and wrecked his vision (but fortunately, didn't kill him).

but none of the guns in our home were assault weapons or semi-automatics. there needs to be more rules surrounding the possession of such guns - because it's just unnecessary to have them. you don't hunt with such guns, there would be nothing left to eat. it seems ironic that there are more rules surrounding obtaining a driver's license than a gun permit and more paperwork for registering a car than a gun.

and completely absurd that there is more support of keeping deadly guns in the hands of people than in ensuring that they have proper health insurance. a skewed set of priorities.

* * *

on a less serious note, how much do i love this?
read the follow-up post as well.

denmark you are a mystery to me: or when life turns kafkaesque

there is a deep and abiding faith in clubs and associations in denmark. they're called foreninger. it's something that i, as a non-dane, find really quite incomprehensible. and the ability to create a new association, which is focused on a very specific, narrow purpose (instead of expanding an existing one to include that little focus area) is simply breathtaking. sometimes it appears that they'll create a new association simply to get away from some other people they don't like in the old association (instead of relying on democracy and voting them out). heaven forbid that people made room for one another or adjusted their thinking a little bit to be more inclusive within existing groups. no, no, let's call a general assembly, create a convoluted set of bureaucratic by-laws (which we will debate down to the last comma) and by odin make a new group - one that preferably will really show that other group that we maybe could have been part of, had we had even an ounce of open-mindedness.

deep breath.

it's a fascinating study in group behavior and if i still wanted to be an anthropologist, i'm sure i could easily write an entire dissertation about it. it has everything - social darwinism, cultural capital (ahh, bordieu), biology, psychology, even a bit of pop business theory between the lines. there's jockeying for position, there's the constantly determining who is with the in crowd and who's not. there's the determining who is the albanian (remember my theory that everyone needs their albanian - someone who they feel superior to?) in any configuration (and oddly, it seems to be an ever-shifting thing). and there's the scheming beforehand because of an inherent lack of trust in the democratic process. and don't even get me started on conflicts of interest...

but among the things that strike me most (there are 2), is how utterly meaningless it all is. it's a small town that's part of a larger municipality (more like a county in american terms) and the mayor and politicians on the city council are those ultimately allocating funds and deciding things - so these local councils and committees and associations and clubs are actually full of powerless little wanna-be kings (who to the cool anthropological observer are actually a whole lot more like a flock of banty roosters). ones who apparently couldn't even make it on the pathetic plane that is the municipality level. so the supposed power of the little clubs is utterly impotent.

the second thing that strikes me is how proud the little banty roosters are of their bylaws and their long history of being involved in this whole culture around the little associations. one stood up at a recent meeting and proudly declared that he was a foreningsmenneske (a person of the association - it's one of those things that just has a better ring in danish, mostly because i can't imagine that it truly exists outside of denmark) and went on to pontificate on how bylaws were the glue holding the society together. it was a critique of another association which had mistakenly (and rather publicly) not followed their bylaws to the letter and managed, as happens if you accidentally dissolve the very glue holding the society together, to embarrass themselves - having to call a new general assembly according to the letter of their bylaws. they were even ridiculed in the local press for not announcing the first general assembly two weeks in advance, as required. yes, the behavior, especially between generations, is that petty and small-minded.

and for all of the group mentality, they really don't want to work together across groups - not even if those groups share an interest. it's all very petty and quite exhausting. and even as i try to maintain an anthropologic distance, i couldn't help but feel i had stepped into the bureaucratic hell of a kafka novel as i observed the natives in their natural habitat last evening.

* * *

speaking of boring things, i keep reading really interesting stuff about the boring conference.

* * *

the t boards on pinterest: tattoo in the near future. that's funny. the eyes have it. the hats (and possibly the crowns). tiny houses (this is one of my best boards). to dye for. topographies (another winner). treehouse.

still not danish enough

the interesting part of living in another country is that you can almost constantly play anthropologist. of course, the danger of playing anthropologist is that you never really fully let yourself be part of things. and when you forget to play anthropologist and you try to belong, you can get burned. but  the good news is that you can return to playing anthropologist. (and by you i mean me.) last evening, i managed to strike a good balance - being involved and then retreating to observing (and trying unsuccessfully to understand) the natives in their natural habitat.

i've come to realize that like any little town, this one is a real peyton place. it just takes awhile to work out all of the characters. and so far, really, the only real vices i've encountered are petty power struggles and conflicts of interest, not all that other peyton place stuff (tho' after some real painted piece of work cows women showed up at the concert a couple weeks back, i do suspect the other stuff exists as well, just not in my crowd).

so, last evening at a meeting i questioned the sequence of some emails regarding public funding of our little group's efforts, with some board members being copied in and asked for feedback earlier than others. in response, instead of an explanation,  i was given a rather pedagogic, fist pounding on the table, shrill lecture about how danes trust their democracy and i'd better start doing so as well. but not really a very satisfactory explanation of why some were involved and asked for feedback and some were not, despite all board members being equally board members. forgive me if that makes me a bit suspicious as to what's going on. especially as the minutes from the previous meeting (which i did not attend due to other commitments) didn't contain any reference to an agreement to seek such funding, tho' there was a reference to speak to a politician (none of the mails i eventually saw involved said politician). and while i respect initiative, it would seem to me that not only a select few should be involved, especially on questions of money. so i will continue to question these things until it's proven that i can trust.

i just did a little google search for articles and statistics on different cultures' trust in the public sector.  a norwegian report i came across suggested that traditionalists tend to have higher trust than modernists, who have more suspicion of the public sector. my own situation would seem to prove that to be true. the one fist-poundingly and pedagogically telling me that now she'd had enough of my lack of trust and that i'd better dane-up in my trust levels would definitely be a traditionalist. (she also happens to be the one who frequently "forgets" to include me.) (hmm, do i begin to smell the faint aroma of xenophobia?)

it's interesting that it came down to an argument of my not being danish enough in my thinking, rather than a question of the way in which our board functions as a group. i'd say that if you can't come up with a good argument for why you've done something, and on top of it, when questioned, you look sheepish and guilty about it, maybe you shouldn't have done it. and if you want me to trust you, you'd better start demonstrating trustworthy, inclusive, open, transparent behavior.  especially where public monies are concerned.