Archive for Perceptions and Perspective

…To See Ourselves as Others See Us

O would some power the giftie gie us to see ourselves as others see us. Rita Profile                                 – Robert BurnsPoem “To a Louse” – verse 8
Scottish national poet (1759 – 1796)  

You know how you can go through life thinking you know the words to a song only to find out that you were grossly mistaken? It reminds me of when my daughter was 4 years old, singing her then favorite song by the Backstreet Boys. I don’t readily recall the name of this particular song which was a big hit at the time, but the lyrics included the words, holding you close to me. My daughter’s version, however, while singing from her car seat, was somehow interpreted as folding your clothes for me. What?! Then there was my girlfriend in high school who had a beautiful singing voice but who sabotaged the words to the Blues Brothers’ song, “I’m a Soul Man”. She  unknowingly made the song her own, singing, “I Was So Mad”.  In both scenarios, we see what these two individuals failed to see – their lyrics simply made no sense for the context of the song. But that’s the beauty of a song that moves you to sing with certainty…out loud…in front of others… oblivious to the fact that you don’t know the actual words.

And so it is the case with the Robert Burns quote above. I can’t remember where or when I first heard the quote but I can tell you it was quite some time ago, (no, it wasn’t back when he wrote it). So when this quote came to me as part of the subject of this blog post, I naturally wanted to make sure I put it out there correctly. As I recall, it went like this: Oh what a gift, the gift of geis, to see ourselves as others see us.” Problem – geis is not a word. But no worries, I have that covered. Gfemale writereis was the name. It’s a proper noun. I think it might be the name of a mythical god with a special specific perceptual power or gift.

Actually, I never really thought about it. At the time, it worked – it rhymed. Now, when the critical time had come for this most appropriate quote, I had to do my research. And now I know. Translating “ giftie gie us”, the quote is, O would some power the gift to give us to see ourselves as others see usDoesn’t rhyme quite as nicely as the original or my version, but that’s o.k.

Imagine having the ability to see ourselves as others see us. You’ve probably wondered about what the perception of you is at least once or twice, or perhaps more than you care to admit. In either event, let’s face it, we’ve all thought about it.  I would be willing to bet that as mothers (as well as fathers), guardians, and role models to our daughters that we have probably passed our perceptions of ourselves, largely based upon other people’s perceptions, on to our daughters; thereby helping to reinforce society’s ever-present message that we are somehow flawed, not pretty enough or good enough just as we are.

Now, let’s get to the subject at hand. I recently watched a video clip of an experiment that the Dove Beauty Campaign did with women and how they view themselves, which is their perception of themselves, essentially impacting virtually every aspect of their lives.

Given our reality is based upon our perceptions, ladies listen up!

 The experiment went like this:  Women were brought in individually to meet with a forensic sketch artist who they never came face-to-face with. The woman was then asked to describe her various general facial features to the artist so that he could compose a sketch. The artist asked open-ended questions such as “Tell me about your eyes…” Once finished, artist and “model” parted ways never having met. The artist then met with a stranger who had previously briefly chatted with the woman who had just been drawn and had been instructed to just be friendly with the stranger. The stranger (both females and males) was asked the same questions and to describe the same features about the models. Again, a sketch was composited and artist and stranger never meet. The original woman, the “model”, is then brought back to view the outcomes of the two sketches side-by-side. The idea was to give the woman a sense of how she sees herself relative to how others who do not really know her see her.

 You need only take a look at the video clip and watch the women’s reactions to what they not only see in the comparison sketch, but visibly realize what they have come to believe about themselves as a result of their self-perception, which is largely based on other people’s perceptions. It’s especially telling given the strangers’ descriptions of the women. Click on the link below and check it out.

http://realbeautysketches.dove.us/    

People spend a considerable amount of time thinking about what other people think of them, what they did, who they are, how successful, and so on. We measure ourselves in comparison to others that we perceive as being more beautiful, skinnier, intelligent, wealthy, educated, exciting, successful, etc. in order to assess what we need to fix about ourselves. And why not? We have plenty of reinforcement every which way we turn. We, as women, are inclined to hone in on what we perceive as our flaws or imperfections as opposed to the qualities that make us beautiful. We’ve internalized the perceptions of society. We’re afflicted and we need to get it right, right now.

Being aware and mindful that we are inclined to see our perceived flaws and the disparity between us and how others would describe us is a great start.  We can make a positive impact on our daughters and a whole generation of girls whose perception of life can change and hence their experience of life. We can change how we see ourselves when it does not serve us well, thereby impacting girls’ perceptions about life as a result of how they see themselves. We really are more beautiful than we think.

It’s all about perceptions…powerful, and frequently, fairly faulty, perceptions.  Perceptions that have over time, been internalized. It’s also a reflection of society’s obsession with perfection, beauty, and youth. If, as women, we’ve bought it hook, line, and sinker, how could our daughters stand a chance? We have to be the change we want to see. We have to be the up close and personal role models for our daughters, deciphering society’s mixed messages, but more importantly demonstrating and serving as a model of true beauty and to do so in such a way that our daughters, and their daughters, become enlightened to a new perception that embraces, celebrates, and appreciates our natural beauty as opposed to our perceived flaws. When we know better, we do better!

See You Next Wednesday!  Pink Heart               OXOXOXO

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How Jackie Robinson and the Movie, 42, Lays to Rest Rap’s Rationale for Using the “N” Word

I went to see the debut of the Jackie Robinson movie, “42”, and left feeling some kind of way. Rita ProfileSometimes I think I see a movie through a somewhat different lens. I’m not sure why that is – if it’s just my nature or possibly the result of being African-American. I’m guessing it’s a combination of the two. It is that combination, coupled with being from a generation not yet far enough removed from feeling popcorn and filminextricably linked to the collective historical suffering of a people that brings me to this post.

We all know the contemporary, controversial use of the “n” word, frequently touted by many rappers (and others). The fact that the use of such a word could be considered controversial intrigues me. The use of it by rappers, who happen to be predominantly African-American, perplexes me. I definitely am of the opinion that routine, pervasive use of the “n” word is by no means acceptable.

My daughter’s generation seems to have acquired what I attribute to be most rappers’ perspective regarding the use of the “n” word in rap music, which happens to have a substantial influence on a significant number of youth of all races. On more than one occasion I’ve heard a rapper’s rationale for using the “n” word; a word so historically heinous, hateful, and harmful… and in many instances, targeted towards the rapper’s own race. Are you ready for it? Here it is:

Regular and routine use of the “n” word (in rap) takes the power out of the word.

Aha! I finally get it! Yes, I can see how that could be. When you take the power out of the word, it no longer has the negative historical connotations that once created its power, right? And when it no longer has the negative connotations that created its power in the first plaRap Starce, problem solved. Makes sense to me. Except for one thing…it’s not working.

Why is it not working? Because if it was, the power that the “n” word generates would dissipate, but it isn’t.  How do we know this? Because generally when a White person refers to or uses the “n” word in virtually any context involving African-Americans, uncomfortable tension, to put it mildly, ensues. It was not intended to be a word that the power is taken out of strictly for African-Americans who hear it, use it, or may be called it. Its intention, one would think, would include taking the power out of the word by those who historically wielded the word, parlaying its power and negative connotation in the first place.

So how did Jackie Robinson and the movie, “42” manage to lay to rest the controversy surrounding the use of the “n” word so frequently used in rap music?

Because, to borrow a quote from the movie: “God built Jackie to last”. Otherwise, how could Jackie have ever managed to survive what he had to endure to break the color barrier in baseball? Not only was Jackie Robinson a super human ball player, he was a super human being…complete with awe-inspiring talent, discipline, tolerance, integrity, unfathomable self-restraint, courage, emotion, and the guts NOT to fight back. And from what I gathered and cannot imagine is the guts it must have taken not to fight back, particularly under the circumstances and times that Jackie encountered. Not to play into society’s perceptions of African-Americans, and particularly males, as being angry and violent despite the fact that anger and violence was constantly spewed at him was critical to the success of the mission. The minute Jackie displayed any behavior that reinforced the ignorant and racist perceptions of him as an African-American, the “game” was over and we would not be where we are today.MM900295247

What makes “42” so powerful is the realistic and true portrayal of what our hero endured to get where he got, fueling our ability to not only dream to be, but to be who we dream. But the brilliance of the film is its ability to connect the viewer to Jackie in such a way that you can’t help but relate to him and feel for him as a great young man and a fellow human being with a hell of an unfair burden to bear. And he bears the burden beautifully.

Now here’s where I think the movie makes its mark with the younger generation; many of whom are seemingly becoming indifferent to the nature and magnitude of the sacrifices made throughout history. The movie, keeping within a 3 year time span of Jackie’s life, incorporates some of the significant events leading up to and including the inevitable breaking of the color barrier in baseball. Key to the impact of the movie is the fact that Jackie is and remains a very young man throughout the movie and the viewer comes to see him in such a relatable way on a human level that you can’t help but feel deeply for him and his circumstances.      Bat and Ball

The pressure of being in Jackie’s position is palpable. One doesn’t have to be African-American, male, or play baseball to not only feel Jackie’s pain but actually hurt for him. To be able to understand to some small degree what it feels like to be bullied, picked on, and degraded while trying to remain courageous in the face of it all. Most of us who are inclined to see the movie have lived long enough to have likely encountered such situations and we weren’t the first or only ones designated to catapult change. So we can relate, but we can not imagine. It is these events that allow us to garner just a glimpse of the depth of pain and suffering as well as the courage, conviction, and strength of character that necessitated the ushering in of the breaking of the color barrier and what that meant for the future of America, African-Americans, and baseball.

There is a scene in the movie when a little white boy playing ball is said to be observed rubbing dirt Bat Boyon his skin as he tells his friends that he wants to be like Jackie Robinson. If it didn’t already occur, it is then that you can’t help but recognize the reach of that most momentous historical event and the subsequent magnitude of the impact of the change that was destined to come. It isn’t just about being a great baseball player that the little boy is conveying. It’s about encapsulating and emulating the qualities and characteristics that made Jackie Robinson not only a great baseball player, but an American hero and more so, a great human being. It can be done without using the “n” word, in spite of the “n” word, and most definitely in light of the history of the use of the “n” word.

See You Next Wednesday!     Pink Heart         OXOXOXO

Please note that donations for Military Child Month are underway and your help is needed. Please consider giving $5 or any amount you can give to the National Military Family Association. The link directly to the association and the phone number if you prefer to call is below. Be sure to type GrowGratitude in the comments or mention it when calling. Thank you for your support!

http://www.militaryfamily.org/get-involved/donate/giving-opp/

703-931-6632, ext. 325

Also, feel free to check out the Military Child Month blog post. Let me know what you think!

https://growgratitude.com/2013/03/27/lets-growgratitude-for-military-child-month/

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Hellooooo…Is Anybody Out There?

This morning I got on Facebook and found myself alone. How does that happen? Yes, it was rather Rita Profileearly on a Saturday morning, probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 5:14a.m.ish (note to self: does that imply that you had nothing to do Friday night?) And it’s not like I have a lot of FB friends, relatively speaking. But it really did feel kind of eerie. Naturally, THAT got me wondering…what is the effect of being on FB as opposed to the effect that FB has in general, and are the two mutually exclusive?  I’m interested in the former as opposed to the latter. In other words, what actually happens to you while you’re on FB from a psychosocial perspective? Of course, this is coming from someone who clearly does not get on FB enough or perhaps I wouldn’t have posed the question (note to self: find out average amount of time FB folks log-on per day, per week…and am I among the average?!)  I have to wonder, who out there views FB in the way that I do?

Are there other people just like me who one day, wake up, log-on, only to find themselves “out there” on their own?

It’s the internet we’re talking about, the World-Wide Web for crying out loud! Has anyone other than me ever experienced this?

Thinking Man2

How can anyone be alone in the “world”?

So, I had to ask myself the difficult questions: Should I make more friends…or worse, should I have more friends? Do I need more friends? Is having more, merrier? I’ve got friends who have ten times as many friends as I have. Do they really know who their friends are? Does it matter? Do other people feel this way or have these thoughts?

MC910216363What is the perception of me on FB? Is there a perception of me on FB? Is my infrequency frowned upon? What if nobody “likes” me? Likes are powerful. When I see a whole bunch of “likes”, it gets my attention. I need to know what I’m missing out on. So I read what’s posted, and then I have to decide whether to”like” it or not. With the simple click of “like”, I have the potential power to contribute to your outcome and quite possibly, your mood. I like being “liked”.  When you “like” me, it makes me feel good. I feel as though I’ve made a meaningful contribution to the “world” in some small way. It conveys that what I’ve said is of value or appreciated on some level. Yeah,” likes” can be pretty powerful, especially in large numbers!

When you’re sitting staring at the screen or perhaps multi-tasking while interacting with a FB “friend”, what’s going through your mind? Does FB command your complete attention? The inquisitive part of me has Google written all over it. And even the word Google has me curious. Why? Because it does not come up as a misspelled or unrecognized word as I’m typing it.  But google with a lower case “g” comes up as an unrecognized word. Even the unrecognized word suggests that something is going on that I know I haven’t necessarily thought about or considered before this moment. At least not to this extent.

Is “google” a word that has just recently become part of the English language or did the word google exist before Google existed?  More research is clearly needed. Just give me a minute, I’ll be right back…

MM900236301 Ok, I’m back. Hey, where’d you go?! Just kidding. So, here’s what I discovered. I love playing detective! (No, that’s not what I discovered).  In any event, Google is a relatively new term that has become part of the English jargon. So, the word google with a lower case “g” evidently did not exist prior to the company (in case you didn’t already know that). According to dictionary.com, the origin of the word Google is from 1998 with the founding of a leading Internet branded search engine and originated from the mathematical term, “googol”.  The verb, “google”, means to search the internet for information or to use a search engine, such as Google, to search information.

Did I just digress or what?!

Ok, back to Facebook.

So, I wrote on my timeline- or was it my wall? I honestly don’t know. Anyway, I typed, “Hellooooo…Is anybody out there?” And I waited. And waited some more.  And I wondered how long I would wait. And then, YES! I found a “friend” or I should say a “friend” found me. And what better friend than family? And that’s when I heard the voice in my head (No, I don’t really hear voices) It was my deceased father’s voice (No, he didn’t speak to me from the grave). So, I guess to avoid any potential misunderstandings or thoughts of concern, I should say, I recalled hearing what my father used to say when I was growing up: “Always remember, when no one else is there, family will be”. You get the point – family’s got your back. And in this case (as is often the case), it proved true. My niece came through! What a relief. I really wasn’t alone. Next thing you know, my sister-in-law “awakened” and then another “friend” and another.  It was like “being there” as each friend woke up and greeted the world! In a surprisingly short period of time, I was 

MP900412062 (2) among a small community of online awakening inhabitants chattering away as the sun came up. It takes a village. Now the “world” was as it should be. I have to say, it was a pretty cool way to start my day!

Also, FYI, the average number of “friends” that the 1.2 billion Facebook users have is 120. Yay, I’m average! 🙂 

Thanks for taking time out to join me!

Please Don’t Forget – April is “Military Child Month” and GrowGratitude is raising funds for the National Military Family Association!

Support Military Kid

Please consider making a $5 donation (or any amount you would like to give). The process is fast and easy. Click on the link below to go directly to the National Military Family Association’s secure donation page.

 http://www.militaryfamily.org/get-involved/donate/giving-opp/

Be sure to write “GrowGratitude” in the Comments section so that donations can be tracked for this important cause.

NOTE: If you prefer to donate by phone, please call Caroline Rasmus at 703-931-6632, ext. 325. Be sure to tell Ms. Rasmus that you are donating on behalf of ”GrowGratitude” so that your donation will be included in the effort to reach our goal!

The National Military Family Association has been the leading 501(c)3 charity helping military families of all ranks and Service branches. Their network of more than 1 million military family members is among the largest in the U.S.

If you haven’t had the chance to check out the blog post regarding our nation’s military children, click  here:

https://growgratitude.com/2013/03/27/lets-growgratitude-for-military-child-month/

Pink Heart   As always, truly grateful for your support!          OXOXOXO

See you next Wednesday!                          


References/Resources:

Statisticbrain.com: number of Facebook users as of 2010

Facebook.com: average number of “friends”/Facebook user

Dictionary.com: origin of word “google”

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Passing Perceptions: The Caveman, the Ogre, and the Perception-Panicked Parent

Rita ProfileI’ve lived a lifetime in this skin and I’m pretty confident I know the person within. I am always in awe when I encounter experiences and situations that perplex me or intrigue me based on where we are as a society; evolving as a species, which is essentially a prerequisite for the survival of humanity.

Perception, according to Dictionary.com: the act or faculty of perceiving, or apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; cognition; understanding.

I recently saw a TODAY Show interview with actor Nicholas Cage, who has the lead in an upcoming animated movie, “The Croods”. I used to be a big fan of Nicholas’ and to some degree I still am (despite media reports of Cage’s “personal troubles” and more so, the infamous nature of those troubles). I remain a fan primarily because of my overall benefit- of -the -doubt approach to my perception of people. In other words, unless or until you show me otherwise, you are automatically given the benefit of the doubt. In that way, almost anyone that I encounter is level on the same playing field. At least to start.Caveman : Cartoon caveman with a club.Isolated on white

“The Croods” is an animated family film about a caveman family forced to go on a road trip when their cave is destroyed. What struck me about the interview is that Nicholas Cage, who has a 7 year old son who he described as a “connoisseur of animation”, confirmed that he had turned down the lead role in the original, wildly successful movie Shrek. As we know, Shrek just happens to be an ogre. When asked if it was true that he turned down the role because he thought the character Shrek was ugly, Cage responded:  

“The news said it was because of vanity, I think that’s a bit strong. The truth is I’m not afraid to be ugly in a movie…but I must say that when you’re drawn, in a way it says more about how children are going to see you than anything else and so I care about that. I want kids to look at Grug (lead character in The Croods) knowing he’s a little scary, but he’s a big teddy bear and I wasn’t sure I could do that with Shrek”.

Ummm, isn’t Shrek basically a big ogre that you (i.e., kids) really just want to embrace with a great big teddy bear hug? I mean, I know he’s an ogre, but can a caveman be any more of a huggable teddy bear than an ogre can? I’m thinking no. And isn’t it what we learn about the “character” of Shrek, as opposed to Shrek, the character, that is part of the heart of the message of the movie?

I don’t know that I would describe the character Shrek as scary. Different, perhaps, which I guess to some can be scary. But Shrek, the character, in and of itself is a pretty loveable, huggable kind of creature. At least, that’s my perception. I think the role was perfectly cast with Mike Myers as Shrek. And perhaps that’s a big reason as to why Shrek is loved so much. But I don’t think that’s the only reason. Yes, Shrek would probably be perceived differently if Nicholas Cage lent his voice to the character. However, even with Cage’s considerable difference in voice and energy compared to Mike Myers’, the character, the script, the plot, and the movie were all designed to have Shrek emerge and remain a can’t-help-but-love character. So all was as it should have been.

Perceptions are incredibly powerful for a variety of reasons including the fact that we tend to see the world based on our perceptions. In that case,

If reality is 9/10th  perception, what is it we’re saying as well as conveying about real life and what reality matters, as a result of our sometimes fairly faulty perceptions?

Four years ago, I was in a department store when a young girl – probably about 6 or 7 years old – walked down the aisle I was in with a man, presumably her father. As I stood looking at whatever item I was considering purchasing and they searched for whatever item that brought them to my aisle, I could overhear the father speaking with his young daughter. Little_girl_cartoon : a cute little girl  Stock PhotoThe girl had a doll in her hands that her father was evidently going to purchase for her, but he clearly had some concerns about the doll his daughter had selected. It wasn’t that he was upset, it was something less volatile and yet equally unsettling. It was his persistence that practically bordered on insistence. He couldn’t let it go. His daughter was quite content with her selection, but daddy wasn’t having it. He tried several different ways and times to query his daughter about her certainty in wanting the doll she chose. He failed miserably. Price was evidently not an issue. He let her know there were lots of dolls, any of which she could have. She let him know that she wanted the doll she selected. And yes, she was certain.

I desperately wanted to commend that little girl for sticking to her selection. She knew what she wanted and she picked it out without hesitation or second thought…or perhaps, after considerable thought. And better yet, she stuck to her guns when her father tried to instill doubt about her choice of dolls. It was her father’s perceptions that became the problem not the doll itself. The perception was that the doll would prove to be problematic for whatever reason(s), but I’d be willing to bet that those reasons never crossed that little girl’s mind…at least not without the intervention of other people’s perceptions.

I don’t know if that little girl left the store that day with the doll she originally selected. I often wonder. I wonder even more about her father. And I wonder if the little girl ever wonders why her daddy questioned her so. Probably not. She just wanted her baby doll, and keeping it was her focus.

Why couldn’t the father just accept the doll his daughter wanted? What was his perception of what was occurring that made him clearly visibly uncomfortable? Perhaps it was because he couldn’t figure out a way or a good enough reason for his daughter NOT to have the doll she probably proudly picked out. How was he going to explain why his white daughter chose a brown-skinned doll out of all the dolls she could choose from and what will people think?Black Dolls : African American Baby Doll Portrait lying under turquoise blanket

Six year olds are generally not concerned with other people’s perceptions or what other people think.  They make their decisions based on their own personal desires and what makes sense to them. And in applying the same benefit-of-the-doubt mindset, maybe daddy learned something invaluable from his daughter that day.

We have much to (re)learn from the young who have not yet been impacted by society’s collective pre-conceived perceptions and problems. And, perhaps, it will be the children that lead the way or at least, hopefully, remind us of our child-like nature and what reality matters.

Pink Heart        See you next Wednesday!   OXOXO

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You Can Take the Girl Out of the Country, But Can You Take the Country Out of the Girl?

One of the amazing attributes about America is that you can venture to a variety of locations and find the lifestyle so completely foreign from what you’re accustomed to that you can actRita Profileually forget that you haven’t left the country. The place may have various customs, language and dialect, diverse people and a completely different landscape. I love that about us! We get the opportunity to experience a world of diversity right in our own back yard. And, like Dorothy, we recognize when we’re not in Kansas anymore…figuratively speaking.

When I relocated to the merry old land of Oz-aka, the big city- I was a young, wide-eyed girl seeking a career. Like Oz, the bright lights, big city held the promise of opportunity. So I packed up my belongings consisting of common sense, a compassionate heart, and courage and eased on down the yellow brick road. I wasn’t at all sure where that road would ultimately lead me but I was willing to follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the yellow brick road. And so I did. And you can follow, follow, follow ME by clicking on the “Follow” tab in the bottom right corner of your screen. But I digress.  🙂

For some reason, people know I’m not originally from the city. It has always been that way and still is despite the fact that I’ve lived here for nearly 3 decades, far longer than anywhere else in my life. But enough people have said it that I would be in denial to think that there isn’t something about me that, in some instances, is being communicated non-verbally.

Still, I can’t help but wonder…what is it about me that I’m saying non-verbally? What are people sensing that I’m not seeing?

It’s in the way that I walk and the way that I talk. It’s my demeanor, my mannerisms. I haven’t been able to shake it and I haven’t tried to nor have I wanted to.

There’s something about the country that says home to me. Perhaps it’s childhood calling. And I miss the mountains that I so took for granted throughout my youth.  Home, a peaceful, serene place where the rat race pace of life is a somewhat slower, more relaxed experience. A place where the weight of the world is seemingly lighter and one can more readily become one with nature. A place with a stillness that I long for.

I realize how much I’ve become subtly acclimated to the city over the years. For the most part, it didn’t happen consciously, which is often the case. But I have necessarily become “citified” over time and therefore am inclined to see the world a bit differently then before I lived in the city and differently then I would if I still lived in the country. It’s all part of the process. I love the city. I love the energy, the diversity, and the opportunities. I am absolutely a city girl with a great big country heart!

Yes, you can take the girl out of the country and she can become acclimated to her surroundings, but you’d be hard-pressed to take the country out of this girl. Dorothy was right. There really is no place like home. And evidently, it shows!

Pink Heart

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Where is the Silver Lining When You Feel Let Down? My Night at the Official Presidential Inaugural Ball

The Inevitable Invitation Rita Profile
Finally, my invitation to attend a Ball! How many dresses have I previously purchased…probably on sale or even better, clearance (girl can’t resist a good sale…but that’s another issue) with the dream of attending a Ball that year (girl’s got to dream too, hence the purchase of five dresses and no place to go). Maybe a New Year’s Eve Gala Event or some sort of sexy, mysterious Masquerade. I was born to go to a Ball! Five dresses later and far too much money collectively spent for continued clearance-category bragging rights, the time had finally come. My invitation to a Ball!! And this wasn’t just ANY Ball. This, my friends, was the OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURAL BALL (is all caps still an indication of yelling?) I mean, I wasn’t mad or anything. I just had expectations. My time had finally come. The Universe was providing my dream and in a Ginormous way! So perhaps you’ll understand why I had to understand where I went wrong.

0206130920

The truth is, I had GREAT EXPECTATIONS. The problem with Great Expectations or perhaps expectations in general is that the door of potential disappointment is open wider than normal. Admittedly, this is not the first time that I not only stepped, but skipped through that doorway. So here’s my story, my silver lining, and how I found my way to being genuinely grateful for my experience amidst admitted sneaky suspicion that Murphy’s Law (something that I am intimately familiar with) was my relentless companion. Care to hear it… here we go!

Ready, Set, Go!
I was invited to the Ball by a friend who had, long story short, done some volunteer campaign work for our President. Having given the what-did-you-expect knee jerk response of “Well, duh” when asked if I would like to go, coupled with the reinforcing facial extortions affirming that his question was essentially rhetorical (at least in my mind) and knew for sure that this was really going to happen, the race was on. What does a girl wear to THE OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURAL BALL with only 3 days to get it together? Certainly not one of the previously acquired dresses in the I-can’t-get-rid-of-anything wardrobe. No this dress would warrant a bit more expenditure in order to be appropriate for the magnificence that I was about to experience. This dress would warrant a substantial Google search to even answer what does one wear to such an event? I mean, this is, after all, the POTUS, the greatest country on earth! And the fact that I twice sprinted to the polls to cast my vote for My Man… I mean, OUR Man (regardless of the fact that the local polling place was at the end of my block), I would have driven cross-country if need be. Given sufficient notice, I would have walked cross-country if warranted. But I digress…somewhat. Back to the Ball.

Expect the Unexpected
Surprisingly, it wasn’t as difficult as I imagined finding the ultimate dress that I simply had to have. Once I saw it, there was no need to look any longer. Then I saw it on me and my imagination took off. Yes, I loved this dress, this gown, this classy, elegant, celebrate-the-President-that-I-love gown. Naturally born 0206130919bargain shopper had already scanned the price, said “Wow, but it’s an amazing gown!” and promptly inquired about opening a credit card account purely for the purpose of obtaining my treasure at a discount! I envisioned being at the ball looking exquisite awaiting arrival of the President and First Lady. Go ahead, ask me who I’m wearing, I imagined. And yes, I would proudly exclaim it was off the rack perhaps mortifying some of the other attendees at this most gala event. I think by then, the whole Great Expectations thing had taken over. Shortly thereafter, the aforementioned Murphy reared its ugly head and accompanied me from the purchase of perfect accessories (again at the aforementioned discount) to the chair at my hairdresser (you knew I had to get my hair done to go with that amazing gown, the perfect accessories, oh and I forgot to mention the nicely sale-priced pair of 4 and 1/2 inch heeled sandals).

The Low Down on the Up Do
“Perfect!” I said to my beloved hairdresser when we both agreed that an up do would be most appropriate for the Ball. Now, you have to understand, that I am not a person who spends time on or knows a lot about my hair, different styles and all that but I can appreciate some of the glamour and celebrity magazines with women wearing fancy and somewhat unique styles. But really? My hairdresser is truly fabulous but when I saw my up do I really wanted an up don’t. Something had changed and I think it was the shape of my head. But I went forward figuring maybe I could play with it a little bit and get it to work for me without completely ruining it (my hair that is not my head).DSCN0034The Road Trip was Getting There
The Ball was 2 days away and tickets had to be picked up in D.C. by 7 pm the next day or else. So not living too too far from D.C., you know a road trip was in order, right? Me, my friend who invited me, and what’s a really good road trip without my loyal companion, Murphy, jumped in the car eager to secure our tickets as the experience of a lifetime was becoming closer to reality with each passing mile. With perceived magic at work, last-minute hotel reservations were confirmed (not surprisingly no discount price there), plenty of time to arrive in time and ain’t we got fun!

Now, I have GPS but I only use it in the way I know how, fully realizing that I am not even beginning to scratch the surface of its capabilities. Who has the time for reading tutorials & updates? Just get it to work and roll with it. I’m not sure it would have made any difference. While the trip to D.C. was relatively uneventful and fueled excitement and anticipation, once we got to D.C. all hell broke loose (that of course contingent upon how you choose to view it). So, as I was saying, all hell broke loose. We got the tickets. Yay! And as I pulled away from my illegally-curb parked-just waiting for my friend to secure tickets to the Ball of the year-parking space, I hit the curb as I pulled round and my car kindly informed me that perhaps we had a tire pressure problem. So, of course I’m going to pay attention to what my car is saying and lo and behold not only did I manage to get a flat tire, but the tire that hit the curb was irreparably damaged and had completely deflated immediately upon impact. No bang, no pow, no hissing sound of air escaping.

When You Arrive, Know Where You Are
Ok. No worries. Call AAA. Good luck explaining you’re location. Ah, the call that they have arrived. But I don’t see them. Then the returned call to again clarify where we were. Oh, we’re in the South East and you went to the North East… so how long does it take to get here from there I naturally inquired (fully expecting that a number of streets in D.C. were blocked off). “Ten minutes”, he retorted. TAKE THAT MR. MURPHY! And given that it was mid-January, I even got permission to sit in the heated car while the tire was conveniently changed. Thank you AAA! Perhaps I had managed to shake off Murphy after all. HA!

0206130941Suite Surrender      
OK, tire changed, GPS programmed for hotel (nicely located close to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.) we were off for some well needed rest before the big day and even bigger night that awaited us the next day. It wasn’t long after we began riding that my friend and I grew concerned that we just may be going in circles. You know the dreaded GPS word, “recalculating”. GPS couldn’t predict all the street closings that had been put in place in order to provide the necessary security for this most momentous historical event. And evidently neither could anyone in D.C. But it wasn’t until I convinced my friend (the one who invited me, not Murphy-although it might as well have been) to call the hotel and see if they could direct us, that my bright-eyed optimism began to dissolve. “What do you mean you gave our suite away?” the three of us yelled simultaneously into the phone (yes, I do believe I heard Murphy screaming as well). The eve of the President’s Inauguration and you gave our room away and of course are now completely booked? Oh, hell no! Our 2.5 hour drive had taken 8 hours and counting. No, we can’t talk on the phone (we could barely talk at all). We have to meet in person because only seeing us will help you understand that not only are we exhausted but we’re on the edge. Driving in circles for 6 hours will do that to you. I expected inconvenience but not quite at this level. Where does one find a hotel room in or around D.C. the night before the President’s Inauguration without being willing to forfeit an absurd amount of money in exchange for a place to lay your head? So we laid our heads down for an absurd amount of money in a hotel tucked behind a hospital emergency room just past the cancer center. Can you feel my pain? But alas, tomorrow is a new day (in more ways than one) and damn it Annie, the sun will come out tomorrow!

When the Sun Comes Out
Much to my dismay, but fortunately, my friend opted NOT to reserve the 2nd night in our I-don’t-get-what they-were-thinking hotel. I thought for sure our upcoming night of celebrating would be hampered by the need to drive as far away from D.C. for a room that I might as well make reservations at my own abode. Who would have thunk that the hotels were only booked up for the night BEFORE the big day but not the night OF the big day?! So back we went to our original hotel with the suite that was now available. By that time, my friend, who I was just really getting to know well, called me cranky. I hate labels. I would have called it something else but ok, call me cranky. We made the trek back to the hotel that morning and when we arrived we were directed to go to the nearest public parking garage in order to await the 3pm check-in. I’m not sure how this unfolded but I’m guessing it was either the expression on my friend’s and my face or maybe our reputation from the night before preceded us, but somehow the hotel was magically persuaded that perhaps they had a suite ready right now, allowing us to leave our car with the valet and make our way to our room, which is exactly what we did.

I was surprised at the difficulty I had trying to get a sense of what to expect at the Inaugural Ball. Inquiry minds wanted to know. One website touted dinner, drinks, and dancing the night away. So, I held off on eating until dinner. I couldn’t decipher whether the drinks were included or if it was cash bar but as far as celebrity performances, we got what I recall being publicized.

I prepared for the Ball, donning the gown that I loved, the up do still done up and the 4 and ½ inch heels that I prayed would not be killing my feet before the night was over. Enjoyed a couple of amazing home-made Margaritas if I do say so myself and we were off to the Ball feeling fabulous.1208122330

We hailed a taxi and quietly sat as the meter continued to tick higher and higher and the traffic continued to move slower and slower. Finally, we ditched the cab after being encouraged to walk as a means of getting to our destination sooner. As we neared the Convention Center where the Ball was held, anticipation filled the air.

An-ti-ci-pation…It’s Making Me Wait!
The thing about anticipation is the uncertainty. You have a vision of what you think you might experience and that vision evolves from information and imagination. I’ve admitted that my information was limited… unlike my imagination. Call me Cinderella, but I really began to believe in fairytales. Then call me Sleeping Beauty and tell me to wake the hell up!

Fashionably Late To the Ball?
We arrived a bit late for the Ball in order to avoid the cold and the crowd waiting to enter the building. From there it was a whirlwind. As we entered the Convention Center, the stage was set. Billowing sheers and curtains adorned the stage along with the POTUS symbol. Truly a lovely backdrop. Now, for the table seating and dinner/hors d’ouevres. Wrong! No table seating. No dinner. If a meal or hors d’oeuvres were served that we somehow missed, there was no evidence of it. But yes, thankfully, there were plenty of bars set up throughout the cement-floored Hall. No crystal or glass, but half-sized plastic cups. And no discount prices. Oh, this was not at all what I was expecting.

Non-Resistance Goes with the Flow
Our fashionably late arrival resulted in missing Alicia Keys perform but shortly after arrival the Presidential theme music began to play, the crowd rushed the stage, and the couple whom I am so proud to call our President and First Lady entered the room and danced for us to “Let’s Stay Together” with Jennifer Hudson singing in the background. Magnificent! DSCN0039

Stevie jammed for a good while including performing our President’s signature campaign song, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered”. Love that! But the ultimate with Stevie for me was when he sang his Happy Birthday rendition in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King on Martin Luther King Day! Always wanted to hear that live! John Legend was also in the house and put it down. Fine specimen of a gentleman…complete with a great voice too!

Stevie                   DSCN0065

By evening’s end, I was feeling pretty good but not what I had imagined feeling. Honestly, somewhat disappointed. Three days of running around to prepare and I had somehow missed the mark on what to expect. When expectations go unmet, you can’t help but feel disappointed…or can you?

Where is the silver lining when you feel let down?

Perspective Shines in Stillness
It wasn’t until the morning after returning home that I began to realize what an awesome experience I had just been blessed with. Sometimes a moment of solitude and reflection puts things in perspective. No, it wasn’t the fairytale Ball that my imagination ran wild with albeit somewhat scaled back in light of economic times. No, it wasn’t a story where everything went smoothly. It was, however, a truly memorable lifetime experience that I should have had on my bucket list but now I don’t have to. It is a story that included a fairytale dance at the Ball complete with a happy ending. It is a story of the importance of perspective and the ability to find the silver lining. It is a story that I have shared with my daughter who can someday share it with her children, and they, their children. The story of when I attended the Official Inaugural Ball for the President of the United States. The story of the Inauguration and celebration of our first African-American President on the same day that we, as a nation, honor Dr. Martin Luther King’s Birthday and Legacy. Could it have been any more symbolic or meaningful? I think not. And honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful not only for the opportunity to have had the amazing experience that I had, but for the friend who chose to ask me to the Ball I had waited for all of my life. And what a Ball it was!

Gerald and Me

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