Tag Archives: validation

Women Rock Wednesday: Woman Witness

Women Rock Wednesdays, , , ,

I just finished two books, almost simultaneously. I’ve always got several (4 or so) going at any given time — 2 fiction for devouring (one with my eyes, one with my ears) and a couple non-fiction on a slow simmer in the background for when the mood is right. Because my eyes are so much faster than my ears, it’s unusual that I’ll finish two up around the same time, but this time I did. And this was one of those times where an interesting theme emerged and made me think.

I spent the entire day on Saturday (very literally) finishing up the sixth installment of the Green Rider series. My friend Jess got me hooked in grad school, which was all good because there were already three books out at the time and I got to read them in rapid succession. I’ve had to wait years between each of the others though, so when I finally get my hands on the next one, I basically have to check out of life for a bit to soak it all in.

The Green Rider Series by Kristen Britain… I’m obsessed.

I’ll spare you the details… ok, actually, I’ll spare me the details because it’s pretty much hardcore fantasy and a description would likely scream NERD… but suffice it to say that a major theme of this most recent book was a journey that required a witness.

I didn’t really think much of that theme until this afternoon when it appeared once again. The book I finished on my post-work, full-sun (!!!) run was the third in a series recommended to me by a fellow audiobook lover — the Pendergast series by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. I’m still early in the series (there are 17 books!), but I fell in love with the bizarre yet brilliant Special Agent Pendergast right away and love that the books bring back some, but not all, characters and settings from the previous book each time. It’s super fun and they’re a great listen for my runs. I was hoofing it up a big hill (Mount McMillan as my friend Amy would say) this afternoon listening to the epilogue of The Cabinet of Curiosities when Pendergast brought this book’s (surviving) sidekicks to a barely marked grave in a public cemetery north of New York City to burn the secret to prolonged life… an event of historical import so great that it couldn’t be done alone, it needed a witness.

The book ended shortly thereafter, but that word — witness — stuck with me. It tickled something in the back of my mind and fueled my thoughts for the rest of my (blessedly downhill) run home.

I wrote about another book and its use of the phrase “benevolent witness” a couple years ago the first time Seth and I went through IVF. It was something of an explanation for why I am like I am with all the words. And I liked, and still agree with, that post upon re-reading. But it didn’t quite capture what I thought about this afternoon. In that moment, I knew I needed a benevolent witness — someone to really see me and be kind anyway. But it wasn’t so much about kindness today.

So what?

I came home and did what any hard-hitting writer-type would do: research.

Google search: can i get a witness

Seriously. Research.

Done and done.

So, it was Marvin Gaye all those years ago who, with a kick ass song (with so-bad-they’re-good dance moves from the crowd, at least in this video), coined the phrase.

Mistreated by a lady love, Marvin Gaye wanted a witness to the unfairness of it all. For someone else to see the truth.

BINGO!

 

There’s something inherently comforting about knowing that someone else has really seen you in any given situation. Served as witness to joy or pain, bravery or fear, success or unfairness. Regardless of the role a witness ultimately plays in a situation, to know that someone was there validates us in a way nothing else can. Our minds can play tricks, our emotions can wreak havoc, but a witness is stolid — a witness stands by you and says this is real, you are real, you matter, you experienced…

 

But why on Women Rock Wednesday?

Because Women have so often born witness to the biggest and smallest moments of my life. They still do.

The more I mull it over, the more I find myself believing that there’s something experiential about being a woman in the world that lends itself well to women serving as witnesses for each other. Even when we didn’t share a physical or temporal moment, there are so many familiar stories that, when recounted, end with a common refrain: “I can’t believe I thought it was just me!!”

Most of us have bled through our shorts/pants/pajamas at some point in our lives. Most of us have felt badly about our bodies. We’ve been patronized. We’ve struggled with sexuality, fertility, family planning, femininity (too fast, too slow, too much, not enough). We’ve all spent our lives walking a line between being nice and being firm. These are things that, at least in the culture I know, are nearly universal. And we can serve as witnesses for each other in these ways and so many others.

 

It can be tempting to isolate, particularly in moments of shame or pain. But to have a witness is to receive validation (or maybe even a dose of reality should we have contorted something painful into something worse than it really is), to share the burden, to recognize the universality of our experiences in a way that removes our ability to truly isolate ourselves from the world. Women can do that for each other. Should and do do that for each other. And for that, I’m so grateful.

Can I get a witness?

Validate meeeeeeee…

Instructions for Life, , , , , , , ,

My cousin Tegan recently graduated from Michigan State with a degree in art and a minor in Mandarin. Because what normal English-speaking teen contemplating a minor in a foreign language doesn’t go for an ancient, tonal, character-based language over say, oh I don’t know, Spanish? Tegan, that’s who. Also, she’s an absolute self-taught wiz of a computer programmer. No bigs.

Clearly, Tegan chose a path. A weird path. And she absolutely excelled. That’s awesome.

Yesterday, though, I thought back to my (non-)role in some of those moments where she was deciding on a path and had to laugh a bit at myself as I thought about the concept of validation. You see, back when Tegan was maybe a junior in high school, she was basically good at everything and trying to figure out where to go with that — both school- and major-wise. Naturally, my dream for her was a four year tenure at Michigan Tech for a chemistry degree. Because of course that’s what a bright young woman should want to do. See how well it worked out for me?

Obviously, I had zero effect on Tegan’s choice (unless she was actually leaning toward a chemistry degree at Michigan Tech and my life somehow turned her off, but I choose not to entertain that possibility with any real seriousness), but I sure as heck could have been a lot more supportive and/or helpful. I could have said, “It’s a tough choice, dear Tegan, maybe we should talk about what lights you up… so what do you love? What beautiful things do you imagine for your future? Where do you feel at home? Do you want me to share with you how I made my choices?”

 

All of this came flooding back over lunch on Friday. I had traveled two hours north to Minocqua for a day long meeting and spent the brief lunch break chatting with Mike, a local pain psychologist. He said something about all psych folks being “fruit cakes” and I said that’s why I loved my psychologist so much — because he validates my crazy (good news: my grief process and dealing with depression appear to be normal as of Wednesday, also my injection of humor to serious situations is a good thing, sweet validation). Then… I’m not sure how we got on the topic, exactly, but Mike’s high school aged son is interested in a career in scientific writing (he sounds to be a grade-A introvert and super into learning, definitely a good candidate) and when I recommended a more scientific route (as opposed to a more English/writing-based approach), Mike mentioned that that was his son’s goal after having seen the husband of one of the local pediatricians perform some chemistry demonstrations at his high school.

Those chem demos? Performed by none other than my sophomore year p-chem lab partner from good old Michigan Tech, John (because small world). Ah ha! And I instantly started pushing — oh he’s just got to go to Michigan Tech for a chemistry degree, both John and I did, obviously the best of decisions. See!! Seeee!! Seeeeeeee?!?!

Validate meeeeeeee!!!

 

And in that record-scratching-to-a-stop-moment, probably because I had just admitted to requiring validation from my psychologist only minutes before, I recognized what I was doing. Did it stop me? No, I don’t think so. But it at least made me think about it. And how much I hated this very thing and yet, I saw it everywhere and all the time and I was guilty of it constantly.

I first recognized that need for validation when I was finishing up in grad school. I knew, like deep down in my weary bones knew, that I did not want to go into academia. I didn’t want to come up with the ideas or write the grants (ha) or run my own lab or be responsible for other people’s careers in a competitive, fund-limited field. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life studying one small thing. I wanted something different, something that used my talents and passions in a different way, but it was hard to even see any other options. Honestly, I’m just ridiculously lucky that I stumbled into scientific writing. I barely even registered it as a choice before coming across the job that I ultimately got. And when I did get it, people were pretty pissy with me — for opting out of academia, for going in not just a different direction, but the wrong direction.

I was mad about that for a long time. I wanted my professors to be proud of me, but as I walked away, I felt like everyone behind me was shaking their heads in disappointment instead. Then again, how could any of them know anything other than academia, the path they chose? And given that that was the case, how could I honestly expect them to encourage me otherwise? Who doesn’t like to be validated??? Who among us doesn’t honestly feel like they need it, especially when the choice they’ve made was a hard one? And no doubt, academia is amongst the hardest.

 

After the meeting in Minocqua ended, I got back in my car and drove south past home and all the way to Milwaukee for the annual Call To Action meeting. I made it just in time to hear Zach Wahls speak; you probably remember Zach as the eloquent young man who, raised by gay parents, went viral on YouTube after testifying in favor of marriage equality in front of the Iowa legislature a few years ago. That young man is now a few years older and a polished and professional advocate for equality and social justice. It was an amazing talk; many would disagree on principle. Similarly, this morning, I heard one of the most brilliant and prolific theologians of our time, Sister Joan Chittister, speak about the importance of the public intellectual for the evolution of social and institutional change; again, many would and do disagree.

And, in bringing these beautiful talks back to that idea of validation that I’ve been turning over in my mind, I’m left wondering: how much of this religious strife does validation account for? How much of that worry about the eternal salvation of that-guy-over-there-doing-the-wrong-thing’s soul is really a worry about the validation of our own???? I mean, if that guy is somehow doing the right thing, what does it say about my personal prejudices?

I don’t know the answer. Maybe it’s not at all. But it seems related. Like maybe most of our arguments against equality, change, growth, evolution might actually be about fear — about lack of validation for the status quo, for the habits, patterns, and beliefs we hold dear. Maybe instead, we should all consider saying what I should have said to Tegan all those years ago — you do you, whatever lights you up.

 

PS: I met Joan Chittister today. In person. So, yeah, that lights me up. No Mandarin necessary.

Meeting Sister Joan

Quiet: A Long-Winded Book Review From a Girl Who Can’t Stop Talking (On the Internet)

Book Review, , , , , , ,

On my way out of the office this afternoon I walked out the door just as a coworker from another department walked past.  We said hello, she asked me a question, and I panicked.  Panicked!  Because it’s a long walk to the parking lot and the thought of small talk all the way after a day full of interpersonal interaction was just too much.  Much too much.  So I did what any slightly neurotic yet professional adult person would do… I ducked into the bathroom.  I didn’t go, but I stood in there for a couple minutes, putting my hat and mittens on, and then left.  I walked all the way to may car in sweet, sweet solitude.  That was close!

So what exactly is my deal?  I think I might know…

For a nerdy girl like me, school (of the elementary, middle, and high school variety and beyond) was tough for many reasons, but none were quite as painful to me as group work.  It was always my least favorite thing– I hated having to depend on others, to not be in control, and most of all, interacting.  Do you know how hard it is for someone like me to constantly try to say words to other people without being awkward?  It’s hard!  Real hard.

Turns out, it’s not actually all that uncommon to feel that way.  A revelation!  And that one piece of information made reading Susan Cain’s book “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” completely worth my while… but there was so much more!

{source}

I have to admit, I wasn’t in love with the writing style– too many direct quotations for my taste, but the information was good.  Really good.  And the way it was organized made a ton of sense.  (Ok, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe the problem wasn’t really the use of text from other sources, but rather the length of the passages that were quoted and the quoted text within the quotation and such… sometimes it was hard for me to follow.  Perhaps an issue with reading it on the Kindle?  Either way, it was a relatively minor thing.)

Cain begins by explaining how extroversion became the ideal in the US, describes the biology behind the personality type, and then discusses how to deal with introversion in the real world, in a culture where it’s not necessarily valued.

As a science-minded individual, I really loved the explanation of the biology.  Cain discusses really interesting research on “high reactive” individuals and explains that introversion can be predicted even in infancy by observing reactions to external stimuli. Introverts tend to react more strongly and than extroverts… translate that to adulthood and new people, new places, new situations leave an introvert in need of some major recharge time.

And it turns out:

THAT’S OK.

I hate small talk– I’m terrible at it.  But becoming overly familiar and engaged in deep conversation from the get go?  That’s something I’m good at.  Apparently, that’s an introvert thing.  I enjoy social things once I’m there and fully engaged, but dang do I ever freak out in advance… and I really need to take time to wind down after the fact.  Apparently, that’s an introvert thing too.  And it’s all ok.

The only part of the book I really didn’t like was the amount of detail related to parenting and teaching introverted children.  It’s possible that it annoyed me only because I’m well past the point of it being helpful for my own life (watch me end up with devastatingly shy children now that I said that– karma), but I almost felt like it could have been a completely separate book– “Nerds: How to Parent or Teach a Child that Seems Really Weird.”  Just think on it, Ms. Cain.  We can discuss if you’d like.

One of the things I found particularly interesting was the discussion of pseudo-extroversion and the ability of introverts to build community over the internet.  No wonder I’m in love with Facebook (sorry, I know it’s not cool to admit that, but what a great way to keep up without direct interaction– dream come true!) and I’ve been surprisingly open to spilling my guts here…  It turns out, a lot of introverted people interact better when they can do it virtually.

Finally, if you read the book carefully, you’ll note Cain’s subtle promotion of Under the Tapestry… on page 263 (emphasis mine):

“We all write our life stories as if we were novelists, McAdams believes, with beginnings, conflicts, turning points, and endings.  And the way we characterize our past setbacks profoundly influences how satisfied we are with our current lives. Unhappy people tend to see setbacks as contaminants that ruined an otherwise good thing (‘I was never the same again after my wife left me’), while generative adults see them as blessings in disguise (‘The divorce was the most painful thing that ever happened to me, but I’m so much happier with my new wife’).”

So, Susan, friend, you say that introverts tend to be pretty good at the blessings in disguise thing?  Finding the silver lining?  Remembering that we can only see the underside of the tapestry from our vantage point?  I’d say that’s an advantage to being an introvert– an introvantage, if you will.  Cool.

Anyway, if you’re an introvert, you’re going to love this book– because it is thoroughly validating and if you’re like me, you love it when people grab you by the shoulders, look you directly in the eye, and scream “YOU ARE NORMAL (at least in this respect)”… of course, I prefer all of that in a metaphorical way because too much touching makes me cringe, direct eye contact is uncomfortable for me, and when people scream at me it hurts my feelings even if the words being screamed are positive.  (Ugh, introverts, right?)  Even if you’re not an introvert, reading this book may give you a little more insight into people who seem obnoxiously shy, or even stuck-up, aloof, or distant… perhaps they’re just introverted.  (Or stuck-up.  You never can tell.)