Boxes

After some discussion on culture clashes and some sketching, I decided to write this blog entry on boxes, classifications, various biases, acceptance and non acceptance. I believe that we all need to be more tolerant in general if we hope to have peace in the world. On that rich note I offer some of my experience.
In my travels, I have learned it is wise to assume nothing and keep an open mind. Actually I may have been born that way. I think this because even as a very young child I questioned many things. I was out side the box more often than not. My father was a jet airplane mechanic and he offered to take my younger brother up for a ride and not me. It might not have been so bad, but when he told me that I had to stay home and set the table I was totally outraged at the age of 4. That was just the beginning. I got in trouble for being the only girl who violated the playground limits at one elementary school I went to. "It is perfectly natural for boys to go off limits on the playground, but girls are not suppose to do that" said the teacher as I stood before the class with a couple of boys who had enjoyed playing see saw on the cart in the yard next to the play ground. I must have been in good company because the women's movement got a big boost when I came of age.

One box that I was tossed into was not divided along gender lines, but was particularly outrageous. As a child we lived in the next town from the tree house a college town with two military bases. At 12, I was in the advanced class in the junior high. Which I will say was a box I did enjoy being in because I liked the challenging topics we studied. I had written an essay which I was quite proud of and the teacher read it before the class. The to my amazement she accused me of plagiarism saying that it was too well written to be the work of a 12 year old. I stood right up and denied it and challenged her to find what book I had copied it from and furthermore if she was going to accuse me of such a thing she would have to prove it. She said nothing. After class, I spoke with her and told her that if she thought that my essay was so well written she should give me an A on it. To which she said under no circumstances would she do that. My father was a non commissioned officer in the military and I did not even belong in that class. The advanced class was not for military kids and that I would be lucky if she gave me a C. Now it was beginning to make sense to me. I had this woman for three classes. Classes that I had never gotten less than an A in in my young life and I could never seem to get more than a C from her. I asked her if she knew that information, why she hadn't bothered to look at my academic records to see that I did indeed belong in that class. Probably outraged by my disrespectful manner, she did manage to get me demoted the following year, but I was able to rectify that by going to the guidance office and complaining with the backing of my science teacher. And I got an award at the end of the year for my miraculous advancement to the honor roll. Which my brother was right, I did not deserve, it was merely because I had a prejudiced teacher the year before. I don't think that I learned a lesson, I had always had some pretty good advocacy skills, but I guess I learned to put them into action.

After we bought the tree house in 2000 together, Claire and I thought that we better make our relationship official. The guy who sold us the place was mazed that we had gotten a mortgage but we put more than 20 percent down and had pretty solid jobs at the time. Even though we both owned the house, having split the hefty down payment, we did not want to risk either of us losing it in the event of one of our deaths, as had occurred with other same sex couples we knew. At the time, civil unions were recognized in Vermont so we drove over and tied the knot. Later we registered in our own state and of course drew up wills. Recently, I pulled out my photo album to sketch scenes from those days, here is one of Quechee Gorge in the Green Mountains of Vermont.