Communication – amandaguthorn

June 21, 2023

Angry X 2

I’m angry today. Anger is not an emotion I feel often or on a regular or sustained basis: I’m claiming it today.

I was on a Zoom meeting earlier that was Zoom-bombed. There were lots of safeguards in place and, yes, that shit happens. Whatever your feelings about online meetings, they have made a world of things possible and created opportunities for people who have mobility or transportation issues, for parents of small children, for people in care facilities, etc. Is F2F better? Sometimes. Actually, some stuff would be better as an email. Food for future thought.

Back to “the incident”. The bomber was a naked man reclined in a semi-supine position with his camera positioned to capture a full “southern exposure”, all horizons visible. He was actively engaged in a solo activity that, at best, belongs in a private space, and at worst, in a dark 1970’s-era Times Square movie theater. BTW, major kudos to the powers that be in NYC for making TS a much safer and cleaner place.

I happened to be speaking at the time the bomb dropped. I have previously self-identified as “unflappable”, but I was definitely “flapped” on this one. I was looking for our Zoom admins to quickly intercede then was directive in my request to boot the bomber. It took probably a good minute and a half for the meeting admins to identify the bomber, at first shutting their camera off (which he turned back on repeatedly), then eventually expelling him from the meeting and making the appropriate report to the masters of the Zoomiverse.

Ninety-seconds is a really long time (go ahead, time it) when you are simultaneously attempting to share a cohesive thought while involuntarily being “exposed” to some stranger’s junk. His obvious expression of pride was the icing on this crap-cake. Yes, I was flapped and it was clear in my tone of voice. I did own up to this and apologized.

After some readjustment, the meeting continued but I was definitely feeling something about “the incident”. I finally put my finger on it. I was angry. This person had denied me agency* of being in a space that I always considered safe. This is a regular meeting that has gone on for some time with very few bomber incidents. The others were disturbing but there was something about this one that felt overwhelming to me.

At the end of the formal meeting, I invited anyone who wanted to process “the incident” to stay on: I could not have been the only one so effected. I was happy to see that several men and women stayed on. I shared my experience working with crime victims, most of them women who had been denied agency in relationships with those who enjoy privilege merely by accident of birth. To me, “the incident”, this display, was the epitome of flexing privilege: I am going to subject you to what I am doing, regardless how vile, and you have no choice. And even if you tell me “No”, I will continue because I can.

There I was, claiming space for my feelings (a rare and excruciating event), and holding space for others and…and…and…the discussion digressed literally in a moment to a moratorium on online meetings. No acknowledgment and certainly no mention of the actual activity or how it affected people. And there I sat with my vulnerability and anger hanging out for all to see and walk away from. And that made me angry X 2 today.

* the ability to take action or to choose what action to take. https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/agency

February 16, 2023

Undraft the draft

I started writing again. After a few years of starts and stops, too much self-editing, doubt about the value of my work and words, and significant depletion of resources – time and emotional energy. Honestly, the time I could have captured, it was the emotional energy to make it a priority that was the issue.

In my “I’m not a scientist” interpretation, stress affects our synapses, the neurotransmitters in the brain, essentially disrupting communication between cells (https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/stress-physically-alters-communication-in-the-brain). So, as my stress/survival mindset has shifted, and with the help of an amazing therapist, I am rebuilding the synapse in my brain. And making my way back to writing.

I signed back on to my blog (thank you for reading) and my attention was drawn to my “Drafts” folder: there were 16. To say they were incomplete drafts would be an overstatement by a lot. They are more accurately 16 thought fragments that popped out of my head and fell on the page. Splat! Is that all you’ve got Amanda? Yup, that’s it. Nothing to see here folks, let’s move that into the drafts.

I decided to dust off the drafts and construct complete thoughts and sentences and maybe use some cool words. Whenever I use cool words, not “splat” but real words, I think of my 7th-grade English teacher, Mrs. Blinn. She introduced me to the beauty of cool words. I still think of myself as recalcitrant, as she would describe me with a laugh. And, by the way, still true.

I also decided to dust off the things that were holding me back from sharing my writing. Who would read this? What will they think of me? Do I have anything of value to say? Guess what? It doesn’t matter. For me, writing is like exercise – I do it for myself. Unlike exercise, I enjoy it. As I recently shared with a friend, without language and words, my thoughts just ramble around my head looking for a way out until they become so exhausted they just wither and die in loneliness.

So here is my charge to you who love to write and are held back by fear, stress, sadness, time: undraft the draft. Put your words and thoughts out into the world. As I have discovered this week, someone may need to read what you have to say. You don’t have to write a book, start with 500 words on something that matters to you.

In the words of the amazing Toni Morrison, “If there’s a book (blog, essay, song) that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

Thank you for reading. Please click “Follow” on amandaguthorn.com.

July 3, 2016July 3, 2016

Date Bait: Pictures

If you’ve done any surfing on any dating website at all, admit it, you look at the pictures first. If you haven’t, don’t – you can’t unsee it. We all like to say we’re not shallow and that the person him/herself is more important than the appearance but we know we’re lying to ourselves. And it doesn’t make us shallow, it makes us realistic.

Subconsciously we want to date someone at least at the same “level” of attractiveness, for lack of a better term. Ideally someone with the same interests…and a soul. The pictures can reveal that certain “je ne sais quoi”: the handlebar mustache; the mountain summit; the proud marathon finish moment; the joy while holding the grand babies, bringing in the big bass/trout/tuna/shark, etc.

One or two selfies on your profile is great. If all you have are selfies to post, that’s just sad. Ask a friend to take your picture. If you don’t have a friend perhaps you should start there before dating. It’s a challenge figuring out which pictures to post. Fortunately, I have friends who take great pictures (thank you Debbie Pickering and Dave Teubner). If you’re posting an older picture, please date it. I recently went on a date with a man who clearly looked waaaay older than represented.

Look at the pictures as illustrative of your profile. I love the Patriots and my amazing little shi tzu-poodle; the pictures of me at Gillette Stadium and me with Dobbie are prominently featured in addition to a few other just plain old pictures.

So, here’s a few pet peeves in the photo department:

Motorcycles everywhere – If you love motorcycles, a photo of your Fat Boy is cool. If all of your pictures are of your bike, you may be perceived as one dimensional.
Hats – I am a fan of the hat in a big way. I love wearing them and I like a man in a hat. If you’re wearing a hat in every picture, it’s hard to tell if you’re a die hard Patriots fan or if you are camouflaging a bald pate (just own it, bald is sexy), a hideous comb over, or some oddly shaped protrusion that looks like a broken finger.
The one armed photo – The only decent picture you can find of yourself is of you and the ex so you grab the scissors (old school) and/or crop the crap out of it. This is a dual offense: the photo is most likely old (the baby blue tuxedo is a dead giveaway) and there are no solo pictures of you – refer to no friends/sad above.
Fishing – Great hobby/great profession particularly since I come from a fishing town where fish are serious business. But there must be other prized moments that don’t include you, a set of dead eyes and gills. On the viewer end, we read this as “OMG, I don’t want to be a fish wife”.
Bathroom mirror selfies – Resist the urge to post these. They are not as flattering as you think and there is something horribly unappealing about seeing your toilet or dirty bathtub in the background. Speaking of which,
Beware the background – A sink full of dirty dishes, trash and empty beer cans on the floor, dirty laundry, the hole in your wall (yup, seen them all) say more than any words.

Dating advice? Cautionary tale? You decide.

#dating #onlinedating #datingprofiles #badphotochoices

June 26, 2016June 26, 2016

Don’t Take This the Wrong Way But…

Oh no, you didn’t…inhale really hard and suck the words back in…reverse, reverse…Control Z…something…please. There is no good that will come of this beginning. Ever.

Let’s start with the words themselves. “Don’t” or do not – starting with a negative right out of the gate. Then we have “wrong” – another negative. And then there’s the “But”; a conjunction, a joiner, BUT in a phrase like this, a joiner of two not so good things.

The speaker (allegedly) means no harm but the phrase establishes a position of judgement, of superiority, as in, “I have such amazing (pick the word of your choice) insight/perspective/education/style/beauty/talent/knowledge/fortune/finances, I’m going to tell you how to fix your little old flawed self”. Oh, oh, thank you soooo much.

The recipient (target) hears the wind up. “Don’t take this the wrong way but…” and is immediately on the defensive trying to figure out which of their terribly personal foibles has been the subject of scrutiny. Every adolescent insecurity bubbles to the surface, setting your teeth on edge, bringing back the odd eye twitch you overcame in college, the “here we go” eye roll and that little ache between your eyebrows. You want to hang up the phone, walk out of the room, close your eyes and ears, and start humming.

As the fight or flight response gears up, the pitch is made and it has to compete with the sound of pounding in your ears because of the elevated blood pressure that so kindly wreaks havoc on your heart. Oh, yeah, I’m really open to hearing this and I’m sure I’ll absorb every single word and change myself immediately and irrevocably.

Unless your, “Don’t take this the wrong way but…” is followed by:

…you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met;
…you have the most amazing insight;
…you have a beautiful voice;

…use a different phrase. Or better yet, resist the urge to speak at all.

#dontsayit #saynothing “donttakethisthewrongway #relationships #friendship