Delinda's Gardens books and advocacy
  • Home About Delinda
  • Lies That Bind
  • M'TK Sewer Rat: End of an Empire
  • M'TK Sewer Rat: Birth of a Nation
  • Power and Circumstance
  • Something About Maudy
  • Summer Chaos
  • Janette
  • Blog
  • Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Advocacy
  • Contact Delinda
  • Enchanted Forest Florals/Calico Gardens
  • Road Trips
Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Advocacy

She did it anyway By Delinda McCann

9/28/2015

2 Comments

 
The story of the county clerk who refused to do her job for religious reasons has captured the imagination of many Americans.  I keep seeing memes about this or that person doing their jobs anyway.  My favorite ones were about Han Solo and Schrodinger's Cat doing their job anyway.

Since many of the memes on this theme are based on popular stories or movies, I came to realize that the theme of whether or not you do a job you don't believe in is common in our culture. The whole popular TV series M*A*S*H was about people who didn't believe in the war doing their job anyway.  Some of the characters were obvious Conscientious Objectors who'd been drafted as doctors or medics, but they did their job anyway.

I thought back to older stories.  How many are based on the theme of people doing a job they don't believe in.  I finally got all the way back to the story of Jonah.  Jonah is a story of a man who didn't want to do the job he was called to do.  He really, really didn't want to do the job because he hated the people he was supposed to serve, and he really, really wanted them all to die a horrible death.  In the end, after he tried unsuccessfully to run away, he did the job he didn't want to do. The people he hated repented and did not die a horrible death.  He then sat down under a bush and whined about his disappointment that these people didn't die.

Jonah's story is a story about his religious belief coming into conflict with his job.  He really believed that the people of Nineveh were horrible sinners deserving of death.  Jonah's religious belief was right as far as it went.  However, God wanted grace.  This is where Johah's story meets contemporary themes.  Jonah didn't believe in the job of telling the people of Nineveh to repent, but he did it anyway and God's grace prevailed.  As I see the situation, God's grace is one of the elements the county clerk leaves out of her story.  She doesn't want to do the job she doesn't believe in, and she refuses to allow God's grace into the story.

If we leave out the issue of what God wants, the theme still resonates with all of us.  Every day we are called to do jobs we don't believe in or just plain don't want to do.  We all stifle the urge to put someone down even when they deserve it, because our jobs demand courtesy.  We pick up after others when we believe they should pick up after themselves.  We find ourselves asking, "How does this clerk think she can get away without doing the job she is paid to do?"  For some who are desperately seeking a job, the refusal of someone with a good job to do that job is especially insulting. We can even suggest that the clerk's refusal to do her job shows her lack of gratitude for a job that many, many unemployed would praise the Lord to have.  

We all struggle with the problem of needing to do things we don't want to do.  We question where the line between justifiable civil disobedience and criminal disobedience lies.  I will suggest that the guideline has to do with your contract.  If you are getting paid to do a job and you don't keep your end of the contract that is criminal disobedience.  If you quit the job because of your beliefs and then picket the place of your employment, you are acting within your civil rights.  Many people quit their jobs because of their beliefs.  Many more will not take a job that conflicts with their beliefs. The problem arose in the case of the clerk because she did not fulfill her contract.  She did not quit her job.  And on a spiritual level, she did not let God's grace into her story.  Personally, I'd like for our modern day Jonahs to allow God's grace to end the story.
​
2 Comments

The Teachers S'TO By Delinda McCAnn

9/21/2015

0 Comments

 
On the first day of school in the valley, Marina and Sabrina, met their students at the flat rock as Papa S’TO had arranged.  They arrived prepared to teach eight children.  What they met were the eight children with their five mothers, two grandmothers, and a grandfather if you didn’t count Papa S’TO who left his wife alone with five preschoolers so he could walk his daughters to their new school. 

Old Man S’TO spoke to the gathered students and told them that education was important and would make them richer than they were.  He admonished them to do as Marina and Sabrina told them because they had been Educated-In-A-Convent-By-Nuns.  He puffed out his chest when he mentioned the convent and gave the students the impression that the nuns would be displeased with students if they didn’t learn.

Marina commented to her sister, “The nuns would beat them if they didn’t learn, but we won’t do that.”  In the still air this quiet comment carried to the furthest child who clung to his mother’s leg as his eyes grew big and round.

Marina and Sabrina had worried all night over what to do on their first day of school.  They tried to remember everything they’d seen or heard at the convent.  They had no idea why the nuns did what they did but decided they would do the same things in their school.  First, Marina started by suggesting they sing a song. 

“We came here to learn to read.”  Kam’s wife shouted back at Marina.

Sabrina thought quickly.  “The nuns used songs to teach the children to read.  They even had a whole alphabet song, and we will use songs to make certain you pronounce each letter correctly.  Sabrina imagined herself sounding like Sister Mary Ruth and did indeed sound stern and authoritative.

Papa S’TO sat behind his daughters grinning and nodding his head sagely. 

The adults cast disapproving looks at Kam’s wife and sang the song Marina started. Next, they learned that their children didn’t know the old folk tune. 

Marina still felt angry with Kam’s wife, so she thought she’d get back at her.  “When we learn a song, first we need to learn the tune, then the words.  We will sing the tune to the letter A.”  The adults helped their children sing the tune while singing the letter A.

When the sun reached close to midday, Papa S’TO went home to help his wife coddle their grandchildren.  He chuckled and sang all the way home.  His school would be a success.

Marina and Sabrina continued valiantly to teach their students the little that they themselves knew.  Their father had taught them to make charcoal for making markings on his pottery, so they spent much of the rest of the day teaching their class how to hold the charcoal sticks they’d made the night before.  Mostly, the students broke the sticks, so as the morning progressed, the number of charcoal pieces grew so everybody could have one.

The first day went well enough as each child and their parents used their piece of charcoal to write the letter A on the flat rock they sat on for their school. 

Marina and Sabrina survived this day, but were well aware that the alphabet had only twenty letters and there were only ten numbers.  They prayed, “Please God, make the students lose interest by the end of the month.”

The end of the month came and went.  The students had learned twenty songs each sung with a different letter.  They’d learned their numbers and began to figure out on their own what the numbers implied. 

The second month of school brought more students.  The harvest was over in the higher valleys, so whole families came to school together and camped out at night near the flat rock.  Occasionally the sound of them singing a song with a letter of the alphabet drifted on the evening air up to the S’TO house.  Marina and Sabrina would look at each other and shudder. 

Further down the hill, Old Man S’TO would puff out his chest knowing he was the most important man in the valley because he brought Education to their small community.  He knew their storerooms were filled with rice, beans and barley the students used to pay for the school.  One family paid for their schooling with honey.  What a treat!

Marina and Sabrina survived the addition of more students by having their first students help the latecomers learn what they’d already been taught.  They were delighted and praised God when they discovered that many of the older students had forgotten some of the letters and needed to relearn them.  They rejoiced at the prospect of teaching the same things over and over to the same students.

Meanwhile, they taught the older students to write their names.  Sabrina and Marina didn’t know that the local language they spoke wasn’t written down.  They knew the language the nuns taught at the convent was written, so as they taught their students to write their names, they made up the spellings from the little they knew of phonics. 

After seven weeks of teaching, Marina and Sabrina were exhausted with trying to teach and their own constant fear of failure and performing their duties at home.  Hau and Rue became grumpy because their wives were always too tired. The S’TO house began to stink.  Much to the whole family’s relief, the rains came.  School on the open rock was cancelled and Marina and Sabrina prayed for an especially long rainy season.

0 Comments

First School: A S'TO Story by Delinda McCann

9/14/2015

0 Comments

 
Marina and Sabrina S’TO had been married to Hau and Rue for just over six years before they encountered a problem bigger than their humble origins prepared them to meet. 

Before they were married, their father, Papa E’KuN, had told Old Man S’TO that the girls had been educated in a convent, when in fact they’d been little more than scullery slaves.  They had learned their numbers and letters, and to do some simple needlework.  In fact, they were vastly more educated than anybody else in their valley, but they could not be called literate.

When Sabrina’s son Young Rue turned six, Papa S’TO decided it was time to cash in on his investment so to speak and start a school.  After all, Marina’s son Young Hau was almost six and Ulaylee’s daughter was just a few months younger.  The valley boasted eight children old enough to attend school.  Papa S’TO knew that the next valley over could contribute a few children of various ages.

Marina owned an alphabet book and both Young Rue and Young Hau had learned their letters.  Old Man S’TO had learned his letters alongside his grandsons.  He knew for certain that his daughter’s in-law would be great teachers.  To advertise the family’s literacy, Old Man S’TO had even used a burned stick to write his name on his gatepost.  The letters appeared a little wobbly, but he’d written his name.

One morning when the harvest was almost complete, Old Man S’TO rose early and set out with his walking stick to visit his neighbors who had young children, which was most of them.  By the time he returned home for supper, he had established the valley’s first school board and determined the best location for the valley school.

After eating his dinner, Ol Man S’TO climbed the hill to visit his daughter’s-in-law and tell them they would start teaching school in the morning.

Marina and Sabrina looked at each other and silently communicated their horror upon the receipt of Papa’s news. 

“Who will take care of our younger children while we are teaching?”  Marina justifiably inquired. 

“What will we use for teaching materials?”  Sabrina was equally justified with her question. 

Papa S’TO came prepared to solve their problems.  Your Step-Mama and I will take care of your younger children.  You can use your book and teach the other children just like you did Young Rue and Young Hau.

The women sat stunned for several minutes before Sabrina saw another problem.  “If we are busy teaching, who will help finish the harvest?  Who will help prepare us for winter?”

Old Man S’TO almost crowed when he met this question.  “Tomorrow, your sister Ulaylee will come help with the harvest to pay for her share of the schooling.  The day next, Sprig will come spread the beans for drying.”

Marina and Sabrina looked at each other again and silently agreed that teaching school might be easier than trying to manage their children while working in the harvest.  True ignorance is a great blessing.  Neither woman knew how much they didn’t know about teaching, or reading, writing and arithmetic, so they shrugged at the same time, and Marina asked, “Where is this school to be and how many children will we teach?”  Both women fervently hoped that everybody in the valley would become disgusted with the work involved in having a school before they reached the end of the alphabet.

Old Man S’TO went to bed that evening with visions of a steady line of goods and workers streaming past his name on the gatepost as his daughters sat on a rock by the river and taught the valley children to read.  He saw his neighbors laboring on his house until it grew in his imagination to closely resemble a magnificent train station he’d seen as a very young child.  He still had no idea his daughters could not read or write.

0 Comments

The Bottom of the Iceberg By Delinda McCann

9/8/2015

2 Comments

 
A couple years ago, I asked one of my former colleagues, Vicky McKinney who is still working in the disability field, “What do you think about this recent surge in the number of cases of autism?”

She answered, “A lot of the ones I’ve dealt with have FAS, but they get an autism diagnosis because the kids can get services for that diagnosis and there is no money for FAS.”

It is common enough for someone with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) to have a diagnosis of autism that Vicki’s observation is very probably correct.  This brings up the question of how common is brain damage due to prenatal exposure to alcohol. 

Back in the ‘90’s we were counting three in one thousand live births as having the full Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or Fetal Alcohol Effects.  Ann Streisguth PhD called those diagnosed the tip of the iceberg.  Today, I want to talk about the rest of those who were exposed.  This is what Ann Streisguth PhD called the bottom of the iceberg, the mass of people prenatally exposed to alcohol who don’t get a diagnosis. 

I have long suspected that any numbers we throw around are way low.  For example, the CDC tells us that twenty-three percent of American women still drink when pregnant.  That means that about twenty-three percent of live births have a history of exposure.  Folks, that is one in five children who are prenatally exposed to alcohol.  They don’t all have FAS, no, of course not.  It is possible that for some of those children the mother was able to metabolize the very small amount of alcohol she drank (a few sips of champagne at her sister’s wedding.)  For some of those children, the dosage was small enough and infrequent enough that the damage was not perceptible.  Remember, someone does not have to be an alcoholic to produce a child with brain damage.  Ann Streisguth was able to demonstrate that children of social drinkers had measurable damage, but the children were not diagnosed with anything because the damage wasn’t severe enough.

Why don’t people get a diagnosis when they have been prenatally exposed to alcohol?  Is it that they don’t have brain damage?  No.  Dr. Streisguth talked about those who just have a little more trouble in some areas of life than should be expected when other factors such as poverty and social class are accounted for.  These are the people who are smart enough, but get average grades in school.  These may be the kids who have trouble in math or catch every virus that goes around or can’t eat most food set before them.  These are the kids who must pee on the electric fence themselves before they learn.  They just make more mistakes than their peers. 

I don’t know how many times someone has challenged me and my career choices by saying, “I drank with all my pregnancies and there is nothing wrong with my kids.” 

I usually return a non-committal answer and walk away thinking, “Oh, that is why her daughter is living on the streets and taking drugs, and the other one is in jail.”  Even when their children are not having obvious serious trouble, I nod and remember their child’s problems with boundaries, role expectations, reciprocal play, and poor judgment.  These kids don’t come to the attention of professionals, but they do not quite “get” life.

Recently, my husband was agonizing over the poor financial choices of one of his clients.  The client didn’t follow Hubby’s advice and squandered millions of dollars.  The third time Hubby said, “He just doesn’t get it.”  I finally heard what he was saying about poor money management, trouble with siblings and a general inability to cope with adult life.  I asked a few questions and finally learned that, yes, Mom had been a social drinker.  She had no idea back in the ‘50’s that alcohol could harm a child.  This client most probably was a member of the bottom of the iceberg.

Some people seem to think that the trouble people with brain damage get into is normal.  No, there is something wrong when middle class children end up on the street or in jail.  Although, some of our birth-moms in the FAS*FRI project told us that for their heavy drinking family, poor school performance, living on the streets trouble with the law, and being unable to keep a job is normal for their family.  Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders do run from generation to generation in families as long as the exposure exists.  Some people don’t get a diagnosis because the behaviors associated with brain damage are considered normal in their family or community. 

When I first started working in the field of FAS, ninety-three percent of the clients diagnosed at the University of Washington came from adoptive and foster homes.  Was this because birth families see the FAS behaviors as normal or were the alcoholic mothers unable to care for their kids.  The answer is a little bit of both.

One of my job challenges with the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Family Resource Institute was finding a doctor willing to make the diagnosis.  Back then, very few doctors felt that they knew enough about the disability to make a diagnosis.  Patients still need to actually go looking for a doctor who is willing to diagnose, and they need their written history of exposure, school pictures, health history and evidence of brain damage before they go to the doctor.

Some people do not get a diagnosis of FAS/D because they have a normal or high IQ.  Low IQ may indicate brain damage, but it is not a core characteristic of the brain damage associated with prenatal exposure to alcohol. 

The characteristic brain damage caused by prenatal exposure to alcohol inhibits the brain’s ability to communicate between the two hemispheres.  Thus, we have people who are smart enough, but they don’t get why someone’s feelings are hurt.  They don’t get why some behaviors are not consistent with their religious beliefs or their political beliefs.  The inability to think critically with the whole brain leaves individuals vulnerable to manipulation and wondering why their friend betrayed them. 

Finally, family wealth may be able to cover-up the challenges some people face.  Life is easier for everyone if you can hire help or at least a math tutor.  The son of a well-respected community member is not going to face the same legal consequences as the son of a laborer will face.  Wealth can buy more education for the challenged son.  Wealth can buy private alcohol and drug treatment.  Wealth can buy a job for the challenged family member.  Wealth can buy marital stability. 

The problem with the lack of diagnosis among those who represent the bottom of the iceberg is that society underestimates the human and financial costs of prenatal exposure to alcohol.  We have no idea of the lost human potential.  We have no way of knowing how this impacts productivity.  We do know about road rage, school shootings, random violence, racism, people who cannot make choices in their own best interest, diabetes, heart disease, special education, divorce, domestic violence, prison costs, poor business ethics, and the list goes on.  How much of what we see is due to prenatal exposure to alcohol?  We will never know.

We do know that just because the damage isn’t easily measured, it hasn’t gone away.  We do know that family norms do not mean there is no damage.  We do know we can compensate and cover-up for the damage, but it won’t go away.  We know that society has some challenges.  Some of those challenges are most certainly due to prenatal exposure to alcohol. 

2 Comments

    Author

    Delinda McCann is a social psychologist, author, avid organic gardener and amateur musician.

    Archives

    November 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    October 2012

    Categories

    All
    Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders
    Gardening
    Politics
    Social Justice
    Writing

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.