Don't RSVP to the Fake Party

I spent far too much of my adult life faking happiness. When I was uncomfortable, unseen, hurt, unfulfilled -- nearly no one knew it. I kept it to myself, so as not to upset anyone's picture of how perfect my life supposedly was. Since breaking free from the gaslighting, emotionally toxic environment I used to live in, I have found my tolerance for fake-ness is quite low. I know in my bones when I am around someone who talks about me behind my back, especially since so much of what is said gets right back to me. I suppose those folks should do a little more vetting before they talk to people about me, but alas! I can honestly say I do not care. 

Here's the thing -- I feel deeply sorry for two-faced people. I can't imagine getting to this point in my life and not feeling confident enough to speak my mind and to be authentically who I am. My heart breaks for those who still put on a false front, pretending to be something or someone they aren't, in order to please (or merely not anger) another person. I had an interaction recently with some people who usually completely ignore me if another person is present. (I apologize for the vagueness, but I don't feel right outing people who may not even know they are in the closet.) In the exchange, these people looked me in the eye, spoke to me, acted normal.  Not all that long ago, in the presence of someone who would disapprove of their interaction with me, these same people avoided eye contact and ignored me. Another Denise would have been upset and even angry about this hypocrisy. This Denise's first reaction is laughter, which admittedly, isn't very kind. So then, I stop laughing at their pettiness and realize how deeply sad I am for them. I am so glad I am not living a life that keeps me from being authentic anymore. I don't have to hide who I am or what my feelings are. I don't have to wear one mask in front of one crowd, and a different one in front of another. 

I do realize why some people act this way, and the reasons are usually quite complicated. Parents can't openly admit their child is not a nice person; spouses can't openly admit that their spouses are abusive. It's nearly impossible to say, "The person I should be closest to is actually acting in a despicable way." I get it. It's so much easier to make people like me into the villains, despite the lack of evidence proving such a claim. 

Here's what I have really gotten better at, and my hope is that you can grow this way, too.  I've already explore WAY more than I usually do, in terms of the vague exchange I've outlined above, simply because I am 200% sure that I am not alone in this experience, and maybe my sharing will help someone else.  

Here's the thing -- you already know that these "fake" people are lost. Don't read into what they do or don't do, because you are already putting in more thought and effort than they do. They have their own work to do, and it's work they can only do themselves. Instead of wasting time, effort, and energy on their work, just let it go. See your true people and what they are going through. See how they could use your help or support. Life is far too short to invest time and energy on people who aren't invested in the same journey.

Trust me when I say that when you learn to pick your own battles, and to choose wisely how you spent your one wild and precious life, you will notice a significant drop in your tolerance for hypocrisy and fakeness. And trust me -- it feels amazing.  

To Harper's Parents: I Did the Best I Could!

As I worked through another stack of letters to Santa, I came across one from a child I'll call a girl named Harper for the sake of this story. Names changed to protect the not-so-innocent and all that. 

Harper is 7. She's been "very nice" this year, as you can see by the box she checked in the photo of her letter below. However, she must be getting bored with being nice and wants to change it up for 2022. She asked for only one thing: "A spy kit so I can spy on my parents."

OK, hold up. A few scenarios come to mind:

1. Harper is a fan of Spy Kids movies and Nancy Drew books. She's an aspiring CIA agent and has decided to start practicing her sleuthing skills at home before expanding to the neighborhood where she lives. 

2. Harper is one of those nosy kids who never lets her parents have 5 minutes to themselves and interrupts them at all hours of the day and night, if you catch my drift. 

3. Harper has noticed her parents being secretive over the past month and wants to get to the bottom of the shady behavior that seems to rear its ugly head every December. 

Whatever the case may be, Dear Harper's Parents, Santa's Ghostwriter did her best: 

"I know it can be hard to not know everything your parents are doing," Santa replied, "but Moms and Dads need time alone together. You'll understand when you are older, I promise!" 

I figure whether Harper is a future investigator or a future voyeur (really hoping for the former rather than the latter!), Santa's reply works. All joking aside, my guess is that scenario #3 is more likely, and hopefully Santa's letter buys Harper at least one more year of believing in the magic of Christmas. 

It's times like these that I wish I could meet these kids and their families. I'd love to know if any of my theories were right. Ah, well.  

Harper's parents -- Good luck. And maybe lock your bedroom door tonight. 

 

Join the Conversation with Denise Clark: Episode #6

 I have to admit, I am really proud of my little side adventure into the world of podcasting. We've just released our 6th episode today, and we've had nearly 250 downloads since we've begun. E and I are learning more about sound and editing along the way, thanks to our talented friend Jordan. I've loved all the conversations I've had with the educators this season, and I consider myself blessed to have this many remarkable people in my orbit. 

Be sure to check out Join the Conversation on Teaching #6: Observations from Biology Professor Karen Avery. 

After 15 years of teaching biology to high school students, Karen Avery transitioned to instructing full-time at Pennsylvania College of Technology, where she's worked for the past 5 years. Karen holds degrees in Biology & Education from Lycoming College in PA, a master's degree in Biology from Bloomsburg University of PA, and she's pursuing her doctorate in education through the University of Pittsburgh. She's also completed coursework through Howard Hughes Medical Institute Academy.

Higher education instructors: be sure to check out Karen's "You Gotta" resource, the Tea for Teachers podcast. It's a great place for research-driven methods for college-level teaching and learning.

Thank you for supporting Join the Conversation with Denise Clark. If you find these conversations valuable, please follow/subscribe to the show and share it with a friend or two! For more of Denise's work, check out her blog, The Stories that We Weave.  

Music Credit: Ikson 
Sound Engineers: E Connor & Jordan Miller
Special thanks to Jordan Miller 

Being Santa's Ghostwriter Can Be Tough

I told you I'd keep you posted, and I'm a woman of my word. Santa's mailbox has been quite popular! One day when Gene checked, the mailbox was overflowing with letters. Santa has written back to about 30 children so far. I confess, after seeing how many times people shared my initial post about the mailbox, I created a form letter and printed it on green paper. I then personalize the letters by adding a short note and the child's name. Santa's ghostwriter has a day job, after all.  

(Photo by our amazing mayor who shares his gift of photography with the community.) 

Most of the letters have been what you'd expect -- claims of being "very good this year" scrawled in childish handwriting that make me smile. Many children thank Santa for his hard work and kindness. Some ask questions like, "How old are you?" (Siri helped me with that one: "Older than the winds of time but younger than the spring.") and "How do the reindeer fly?" (My answer: "Great question! Have you seen the movie Elf? It's just like that -- the reindeer fly because they love people and believe in the magic of Christmas!")

I printed address labels and bought official Santa Mail seals for the envelopes. I think I'm getting as much out of this as the kids, to be honest. 

As I sat down this morning to go through the mail, I came across a letter that made me stop in my tracks: 

Santa's ghostwriter is also facing her first Christmas without her mother; her kids are facing their first Christmas without their grandmother. This sweet child didn't ask for anything else, by the way. I've shown their entire letter and have hidden their name, of course. 

Phew. Answering the age and reindeer questions was so much easier, and I couldn't rely on Siri for this one. Here's what I came up with: 

In case you can't read the photo, I simply expressed Santa's sympathy for this child's loss and said, "I can't bring him back from heaven, but I can tell you this: Heaven is even better than the North Pole! Your pappy will be watching you on Christmas morning. If you are quiet for a moment and really listen, you will feel him there with you." 

This is such a beautiful snapshot of life, isn't it? The joy mixed with the grief, the love mixed with the sadness. While this was a tough letter to answer, I can't help but think that Santa's words may bring this child some comfort. 

I know it's too early for Epiphany, but I just had one as I wrote that last sentence. We sing "Tidings of Comfort and Joy" because yes, the news of Christmas Day is Joyful, but also because the world needs the Comfort that news brings, too.  Every day, I see people who are broken down by trauma and harsh life circumstances, in desperate need of Comfort and Joy. 

We can't all put a mailbox on the front lawn and become Santa's ghostwriter, I know. But I think we can all look for ways to bring Comfort and Joy to everyone we encounter. That's the magic of Christmas, after all. 

'Tis the Season

Last year, Gene and I started a now-annual tradition of becoming Santa's postal service. We live on a high-traffic street in our town, and kids often like to check out the large koi living in our pond. So, in the winter, we park Santa's mailbox out front. I post on social media that if anyone is comfortable leaving their address, Santa will write back.  I wasn't sure what to expect. I ended up penning about 15 cards from the Big Guy last year. 

A few days ago, I made my usual social media post and shared it on some community pages as well. Then it was shared something like 50 times. 

Santa is now prepared to mass-produce if he has to. I may even ordered red and green envelopes and gold seal stickers. 

I'll report back! 

Tempted to "Help" Someone? Try Empowerment Instead

 In her 2017 TED Talk 12 Truths I Learned from Life & Writing, author Anne Lamott says, "You're going to feel like hell if you wake up someday and you never wrote the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart: your stories, memories, visions and songs -- your truth, your version of things -- in your own voice. That's really all you have to offer us, and that's also why you were born."

Wow. That is utterly inspirational and beautiful, isn't it? As an amateur writer, I find in Lamott's words validation of my regular routine of writing these posts. It honestly doesn't even matter to me if anyone reads them, though I certainly hope they do.  All that really matters to me is that I write -- it's one of the main ways that I reflect on my life, so thanks for being along for the ride. 

In this same talk, Lamott also says, "Help is the sunny side of control." Stop and read that again: HELP is the SUNNY side of CONTROL.  Let that sink in for a moment. 

Dammit, Lamott.  Do you mean to say that when one of my favorite TV characters, Dr. Max Goodwin, medical director at New Amsterdam Hospital, asks his famous question, "How can I help?" he's also seeking to control? If you watch New Amsterdam and have witnessed Max's struggle to relinquish his position to a less-than-worthy candidate, then you know that his good-intentioned need to "help" does mask a need to control as well.

It's a good thing I'm not like that. 

Oh, wait. Dammit, Lamott. I can be like that sometimes. Allow me write about what is tugging on the sleeves of my heart right now: 

Recently, one of my children (who shall remain nameless) found themselves feeling overwhelmed by life in general and school in specific. I have been working on my tendency to "give advice" because, like "help," "advice" has a dark side. Too Much Advice says, "You can't handle this on your own. You couldn't even come up with some ideas on your own. You will need me and my wisdom forever because you will not be able to stand on your own two feet." Instead, when people come to me for advice (which shocks me every time...me? Oof. Welcome to Rock Bottom), I am sure to do more listening and questioning than advising. Most of the time, the person just needs to be heard and assured to go in the direction their gut is telling them.  

So when the child in question was overwhelmed, I considered my options. Door #1: I could offer help in the way that many adults do -- Child, sit here at my experienced knee. I have created a Schedule for you, and I have created a To-Do List that coincides with that Schedule because this is what I do and it's the Right Way to do things. Do it My Way because I am here to help. 

OR, behind Door #2, I could resist the urge to control the child with my "help" and instead -- listen, ask guiding questions, point out previous successes, highlight their strengths. In short, EMPOWER them to solve the problem themselves. Yes, my adult life experience allows me to see the way I would fix the problem, but that doesn't mean that way is right for where my child is in life, nor does it mean that my way is the ONLY way.  A sad reality is that I will not always be here to tell my children how to solve their problems. They need to learn it for themselves, just as I did. 

Dear Reader, I took Door #2.  After a discussion with my child, it became clear that they already knew some steps to take. We talked about what systems were in placed when they were successful in the past, we examined how some of those systems had fallen by the wayside and what could be done about it. And then, they got to work. I checked in occasionally to see how things were going, but ultimately, my child fixed their own problem. Yet, at no point did they feel alone or neglected -- or helpless or weak. 

As an educator, I sometimes experience students who strongly depend on the "help" of others. This  "learned helplessness" can paralyze a person, because the moment they encounter a speed bump on the road, they stop and wait for someone else to fix it or do it for them. In the long term, this kind of help isn't help at all. 

Empowering serves others in a much richer and longer-lasting way than helping ever will. We need to be honest with ourselves about our intentions when we say we are "helping." Chances are, we may be serving ourselves more than we are serving others.