If I Weren't A White Girl

Years ago, I entered into a controlling relationship with a man who falsely represented himself to marry me. He managed to convince me to move in with him and was urging me to give up my vehicle. All of this pressure from him turned me off. He sensed my disdain and grew irritable and angry.

The evening I moved out, we argued over my possessions, which prompted me to get a drink from the store. When I returned, my angry ex-fiance wrestled me to the ground and eventually pressed my neck up against the wall, choking me for several minutes. Then he called the police. The police found me in my car and took me to jail over the thanksgiving weekend. I was the only one arrested, they sent me to jail, and the DA did not press charges.

As I sat in jail, questions poured through my mind. What's wrong with me? Why can't I find a man who makes me not want to look at another man? Am I just doomed? I prayed for God to fix me and to send me this love of my life.

After my divorce, I enjoyed playing the field for about two years. I didn't do this before my first marriage and wanted to be completely selfish. There were many pitfalls like jealousy, vulnerability, and arrest.

During this short time, I was arrested eleven times. Eight of these incidents were domestic violence with a man I was dating. Two of the situations were driving under the influence. Once I was arrested for having an open container in the car in front of a bar.

In the beginning, leading this man on was not my goal. He bought me purses and clothes, paid for my fancy drinks, took me out for expensive meals and luxury vacations. Ending the relationship became difficult even after I despised him.

This man and I entered a cycle of violence created by my insincere and selfish actions during the relationship. My arrest was always preceded by my attempts to retrieve my cell phone, something I couldn't do without scratching his arm or hand. The district attorney never charged me with a crime.

You probably are a recluse if the COVID-19 shutdown didn't disturb your routine. Apparently, I am a recluse, which Merriam-Webster defines as "a person who lives a solitary life and tends to avoid other people." COVID-19 gives me a perfect excuse to indulge in solitude and pursuit of this happiness.

I've been recluse for more than a decade now. When actually getting around others, to use my husband's words, I won't shut up. The trick is to get me out of the house. Numerous well-meaning friends have given me more than one speech about depression and earlier this year, I actually began to buy into this in the back of my head. Finally, last January, I considered seeing a physician for the very medication I so vehemently oppose.

Instead I began to pray to God asking Him to end my depressed behavior. The world seemed to think my behavior was wrong and keeping me from the life of productivity the world felt I deserved. These thoughts caused me to feel guilty for not calling my friends and not wanting visit anyone. I began to feel guilty for not doing enough for God even though He hadn't seemed to ask for anything.

As a Christian I knew God's word, the Bible, was given as gift to help transform people. A plan evolved in my mind to begin a series of on-line bible studies and let him go to work. It was the very medicine I needed.

I philosophized that if I am to believe God is in control of my life, and I do believe this in my core, perhaps he is okay with the way I feel. Perhaps, just perhaps, what really is to be changed is my worldly perspective about staying to myself. From that point forward I chose to sincerely embrace God's gift of alone time and quiet. My studying increased and my personal confidence increased. Today I can accept my shy homebody personality and realize how precious and blessed are my days full of quiet time to think logically.

Jesus said we will all be accountable for the words we say. Much of my non-Christian walk was filled with words meaningless to me but probably full of punch to others who listened. Thankfully today I have His Holy Spirit, still at work in me with my words and boy, I hope he starts working on my grammar!

In the late middle ages circa 1500, the merchant class began to emerge. The merchant was the middle class and gave a promise of hope to peasants, hope of comfort formerly held only by royalty, military and clergy.

Before the rise of the merchant class, individuals accepted their position of class, largely driven by lack of choice and tradition. Maybe the rise of the merchants correlates with the worlds rise of covetousness, covetousness which created a foothold of greed in all of society.

Maybe we are so blind and given over to our decision to get our way in life most citizen of the world don't remember this warning from Zechariah. Chapter 7 verse 11 is tells of God's desire for Israel to behave properly. The list of "do's" from God was to:

1. execute true justice,

2. show mercy and compassion, everyone, to his bother,

3. not to oppress the widow, fatherless, alien or poor, and

4. not to plan evil against others in your heart.

Zechariah informs us in chapter 7 verse 11 saying, "But they refused to heed, shrugged their shoulders, and stopped their ears that they could not hear." Verse 12 ends with ..."Thus great wrath came from the Lord of Hosts."

Our countries founding fathers, the men in my family tree and so many other first american's gave their life in order that we may have a government with these values described in Zechariah and commanded of God.

In my early 30's we put in a swimming pool and spa, landscaping, and began to enjoy the perks related to my very good job. We lost weight and began traveling for pleasure using my abundant free flights, rental cars, and hotel points earned from business travel. It was not uncommon to fly up to the space needle just to each brunch then come home in time for the evening news. We didn't even miss going to church and the kids went with their grandma.

On the fourth of July 2006, I walked out on my husband over infidelity. My work travel rendered me unable to care for my children during the week and the loss of my church earlier in the year, my husband when he started screwing the married mother of my son's best friend, my house, and my children drove me to begin drinking a fifth of vodka a day. You'll see how this grief driven behavior manifests in the coming posts.

An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion at the same speed and the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. --Newton's First Law of Physics (By the way, God invented this, Newton saw it for what it was.)

Following my life's trajectory, I got married, had children, became gainfully and impressively employed, I had an affair, we went to counseling, we had three children, we made $170,000 annually combined. We rarely experienced conflict, we attended church regularly and tried to be a family of good citizens.

For about 15 years, my family went to church, we prayed at the dinner table, we prayed with our kids before bed and before school, we taught them to be respectful, sent them to a Christian school and didn't fail to discipline even when it wasn't convenient. (A flip flop or a wooden spoon in the pocket makes a quick point.) Both their father and I came from families who attended church. I asked Jesus into my heart at the age of 8 and was led to Christ at my grandparents' tiny Nazarene church in Indiana.

Being religious didn’t stop me from doing selfish things, I felt challenged with the variance between my Christian values and my actual behaviors. I had sincere doubts about my salvation.

One dark evening in the fall while returning from both Costco and the grocery store with five hundred dollars worth of indulgence in the back a person on the sidewalk caught my eye. This feeling came over me, compelling me to stop and give them a gallon of milk and some groceries. Applying the brake to my three week old, custom ordered, Toyota mini-van guilt of gluttony and wealth washed over me and became overwhelming. It was followed by insecurity and then fear. I didn't stop.

Thoughts like, 'I don't want to insult this person.', 'What if they laugh at me?', and finally, 'What if they rob me.?'

Was this the Holy Sprit? I wanted to find the courage and faith to obey. My heart was always willing to share and to help. What is help? I didn't have a clue. I could only help someone be like me, whoever that was.

Simply put, I prayed for got to teach me, make me useful.

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

2:02 PM

When I got my drivers license at the age of 16, I bought a radar detector. Not even one month later I was pulled over for speeding. The officer explained moving radar to me and asked me about the device. Perhaps he was just curious but I felt like I was doing something wrong. In my youth, perhaps I was too self-absorbed to try and understand, now I don't really care.

Don't misunderstand me, I deserved a ticket and can fully see how getting one did slow me down but not because I paid a fine. My mother paid the fine, the increased insurance cost, but I was the one who was embarrassed. Not everyone is motivated the same way, my main source of motivation was not money it was getting caught. The worst thing was facing up to my actions.

Let's set aside the fact I was a child and consider the regular person coming home from work. If no one is on the visible straight road ahead of you so you go 10 miles per hour over the speed limit. Do you lack reasonable judgement? Is there a point in which you should be allowed to determine the risk you want to allow into your life? Does the environmental protection agency or an oil company or the council for fewer car accidents deserve to control how fast you drive your car in a reasonable situation? How much money does a county make annually for speeding tickets?

Let's set aside the fact I was a child and consider the regular person coming home from work. If no one is on the visible straight road ahead of you so you go 10 miles per hour over the speed limit. Do you lack reasonable judgement? Is there a point in which you should be allowed to determine the risk you want to allow into your life? Does the environmental protection agency or an oil company or the council for fewer car accidents deserve to control how fast you drive your car in a reasonable situation? How much money does a county make annually for speeding tickets?

During my very early 20's I was employed at a large manufacturing company in the training department. In a conversation I grouped for a word to describe a particular black woman in another department as we considered her for a special program. I felt weird about it but choked out all sorts of apologies but still used the N-word. There were no words in my mind or vocabulary easily at hand to describe the set of characteristics coined back in Indiana as a N-word. I knew it was wrong but I did it anyway.

My beautiful black colleague asked me to meet with her in the other conference room. She kindly, calmly and probably with pity explained how hurtful of a comment it was. I quickly apologized and she so graciously excused me for my ignorance and proceeded to provide me with a way to express myself appropriately.

She said, stop for a moment and think about the individual behaviors and characteristics you wanted to highlight. For example, you could have said she was 'simple' or 'country'. I was as grateful as I was ashamed and embarrassed but I didn't mean any harm I truly didn't know any better.

I apologized to everyone and thanked her in a meeting so everyone would know. What a beautiful gift she gave me. She did not have to have a difficult conversation with me, she wasn't even my boss. They could have given me a warning for my behavior but instead it was just corrected in the most profound and effective manner. I thank God for this woman and how she opened my mind and eyes.

After moving officially to the bay area, I wanted to visit my favorite places from childhood vacations. The Stanford mall in Palo Alto, Candlestick Park, Santa Cruz and more without my parental figures looming around. A life long local and new friend became my tour guide.

First, let me give you a little background. Never in my life had I ever been exposed to gang related activity except on a few movie screens or television shows. The bloods and the crypts were a mythical problem of East LA. Next, from where I grew up, a bandana was something you tied around your leg at a rock concert or if you were older it was for wiping your brow. If you were my age at the time, it was probably something you hung from your rearview mirror while listening to Motley Crue or Metallica. That's it, for real. Lastly, violence was something on TV or movies, most of which I was too scared to watch and most of all, it was a movie, it wasn't real.

Not knowing what I didn't know, I picked up my friend and we headed to the Stanford shopping mall. As we entered east palo alto, my friend snapped the bandana off my mirror. When asking him why he was messing up my image, because I thought I was cool, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. He explained how a blue bandana is a gang sign and in order to go through East Palo Alto without getting shot we need to remove it.

My perception of the world was so different and I argued that was irrational and impossible. He refused to give it back to me and I decided to believe him but I really couldn't fathom that kind of reality.

When we drove through East Palo Alto it looked poor, boarded and barred up with some folks, but not many on the street. To me, they weren't scary or threatening just poor. It seemed like he was exaggerating. I never feared going to the mall and for different reasons probably wouldn't be afraid today, afraid of the citizens that is.

Some days later, we traveled to the city to see a pre-season football game at Candlestick Park. Roadwork required we take a detour through town. I can't recall the neighborhood but apparently it was dangerous. We were in my friend's little car, not the kind you'd feel safe in unless your big fear was gas mileage or monthly payments. I could tell my friend was nervous as traffic began to back up at a stop light. Navigation the abundance of street signs became my responsibility but sad lack of detour instructions. Finally figuring out the properlane, we came to a halt in the middle of an intersection and prayed to God the freeway would be coming up soon and that no one stole the detour signs.

As we fretted for the light to change a car turned down the street to our right. In front of my very eyes I watched at least four people with what may have been bats attack the turning car. Now I was a believer. Now I was scared of the citizens. Now I was scared of the neighborhood.

When overhearing her boyfriend the bigot say "He would never let a child of his go to school with a black kid." He probably said the N word but I must be blocking it out so I won't quote him.

Immediately I engaged him in conversation asking if he was serious, this is confusing to me. First of all, it seemed a wild notion you could control school attendance. (You have to remember this was circa 1990) He became quite serious and proceeded to earnestly explain how black people weren't human, and tragically his face demonstrated his strong sincere belief this was factually accurate. I was dumbfounded. We began to argue because it was the most scientifically uneducated thing I had ever heard from a man holding a four year degree. His statements still shock me today.

I didn't return to school in that state because of the blind hate etched in my mind. I stayed in California appreciative of it's great diversity despite how ill equipped I was to correctly navigate it.

What a travisty was put upon the soul of this man who grew up believing lies about black people which became so deeply ingrained they clouded his vision and plugged his ears and he failed to learn the teachings of college level anatomy, biology, anthropology, and history.

The bible teaches us if we continue in our sinful ways that God will give us over to our depraved minds and corrupt thinking. It also teaches about the regenerate mind of the born again Christian who through simple faith in Jesus can become wise and restored to correct thinking.

Not too many people hear 'yes' as much as a well-dressed white girl with a credit card. When I was 17, my 16-year-old friend had a new car. Her dad was an executive at a major company and she went to a private school. I can't quite recall how our friendship started but we both liked Ralph Lauren and Gucci purses, real ones. She taught me how act wealthy and not just look wealthy. She was wealthy, I was faking it.

It wasn't easy for me to keep up with her wardrobe so she taught me how to shoplift and I accumulated a very stylish high-end closet before getting caught. After a smack on the wrist, I never did it again but I did begin using my mom's credit card more frequently.

My friend and I liked drinking, our parents didn't. We started wearing my moms business clothes and driving to the capital city in an attempt to be served at a high end bar downtown. It worked. It worked all the time and we quickly found out we could go to any place expensive, dressed for a job and drink all we could afford. This lasted until the bill came in the mail. But the lesson in my mind remains to this day.

If I can control a persons perception about my economic stability or wealth, it opens doors and often results in my getting what I want.

I moved to a new school for high school and made friends with a girl in my class. We conspired to go to the mall one afternoon. Her family was latino, large and I could always here them speaking spanish when I called. These things reminded me of my Cuban friend and this was exciting to me. Her strict father didn't surprise me so we made a list of things which could be father approoved. It was no, no, no, no. Eventually she told me flat out that it was because I was white. This was unbelievable to me and again the memories of rejection I experience so long before from my black neighbor's family made me feel foolish. Even as I write this my mind is combing memories for some bad thing I did to deserve their disappoval.