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This has ended up becoming quite a ramble, and I've no idea whether it's going to make sense to anyone except me.
Made it through an entire pay period without any FMLA time! Whoohoo! On the downside, I managed it during a flare, so I have very little interesting to report about life because aside from work I'm spending most of it sleeping. However, I did get a chance to see a friend from high school on Thursday, and that was a lovely time. In reconnecting with people over the years in various ways (something I have a substantial tendency toward doing) it's been nice to find how often we still do have a good deal in common, and how the underlying trust and comfort can last and just lay dormant for so long. Not always, certainly, and probably not even most of the time, but more often than I would've expected.
Last time we saw each other was a decade ago, and high school is coming up on 20 years ago. Wow. I left for college in '91, and never lived in Michigan again. I stayed on campus for most breaks and all my summers, and Mom and Dad moved to AL while I was in college. For all intents and purposes, summer of '91 is where my social history in Michigan ends; my contacts with folks from there and then have been rare and sporadic since that time, especially since Grandma died and I stopped having a reason for visits up there at all. FB had put me back in touch with a large handful of the folks I cared about most, and I'd found a few along the way prior to that, but it's all been reconnecting more than connections that've been maintained over that entire timespan.
It's weird to remember that life and history continued along merrily without me, that there's so much context I just don't have. FB's reconnected me with so many of the people I liked best, and it makes me wonder how different life would've been if something like FB had existed then. I miss what I didn't experience with them, but I also see a lot of value in the kind of psychological clean slate I had at Kenyon. I could explore myself and figure out who I was more easily, much like my experiences with summer camps prior to that (I went to a lot of summer camps, both academic and traditional, and I always eagerly awaited that chance to escape all the views people already had of me as the weird brainy socially inept priest's kid). I went to college out of state partially because I did want that, and I suspect it's a lot harder to have that experience these days than it was back then. Pluses and minuses to the world being so interconnected these days, I think. It's part of why I'm fascinated by the whole FB thing; it's an integration of time periods in my life that never really touched each other previously. It's bizarre and fascinating and sometimes a bit overwhelming.
Part of the reason I get so thinky about it all is the odd contrast in my life; I think very much in terms of communities and networks and connections to other people. However, to a large extent that's an entirely voluntary part of my life in a way that seems uncommon, at least compared to the examples I see around me. Hell, it's probably part of why I think about it so much; it's had to be a conscious process for me. First of all, I have a tiny family that's been scattered all over the country my entire life. "Family", in my general usage of it, really means just my folks and my sibs; I might see other family members every 5-10 years, but they're just not a part of the context of my life in any real way. The biggest adjustment I've had to handle in that regard is getting a sister-in-law, which was made infinitely easier by the fact that I like her a lot and we get along easily and well. I've intentionally worked to maintain closeness with my immediate family, since we haven't lived in the same state since I was in high school (except Matt, who moved up here a few years ago). I honestly like them, and value those relationships, but it would've been easy to let things drift if I didn't feel that way.
That's really a huge factor in how my life works; it's a radically different world from having cousins coming out your ears and aunts around every corner. Many people I know are living in the same city with their family and extended family (and family friends, and old teachers, etc), and it's a totally different dynamic; something I've never really experienced, and which feels utterly foreign to me. Even many of those who've moved away still get a bit of that experience when they go home to visit. I don't -- Mom and Dad moved states while I was in college, and I rather intentionally never formed ties beyond them in their new location. There is no place that is "home" to me that I haven't created. I developed my various connections at Kenyon from scratch, from the "clean slate" I was talking about earlier. I did the same when I moved to Cleveland. And yet, concepts of community are deeply important to me in ways they don't necessarily seem to be to many others in the same position as me. I suspect growing up deeply embedded within church community has a lot to do with that, especially since it was a positive experience for me (I'm sure I'd feel differently if I'd had more bad experiences with christianity as a kid/teen).
Going back to Kenyon is probably the closest I ever get to the weird conflicted bizarre feelings many people have about "going home". All the same, it's a very individualistic experience of community -- none that I have solely because of family, with all the connections and memories and love and traditions and social constraints and tensions and such that I see folks wrestle with on a regular basis. Just to pick one clear example, it's part of why being so out about everything has been a relatively easy process in my life. For the most part, I get to entirely freely decide who I do and don't keep in my life, or add to it. Beyond not being situated within my family-of-origin's community, I'm also not situated within a new family in any traditional way. Because I'm "mostly single" and childfree, and generally prefer to stay that way, I don't have to deal with a spouse's work environment, or kids' friends' parents, or any of that. Opting out of all that seems to suit me, and I've done a lot of intentional creation of community as an alternate way of existing and having the social ties I need to be happy, but it's a weird way to live, at least statistically and historically.
It reminds me a bit of what I used to talk about a lot in my 20s in regards to intentional chosen family; that our society and social support networks haven't really adapted to the way things have changed -- to the numbers of people who no longer move directly from a family of origin to a family of marriage. At the time I didn't really know that I would end up deciding against the latter option entirely, but I certainly didn't expect to "settle down" until my my late twenties or early thirties, at least. I became particularly sensitized to the issue when my mom had to be involuntarily hospitalized, and I realized that as a single adult without any family in the state, it would be exceedingly difficult for my nearest and dearest to do the same for me if it were necessary, or to get any information once I was in. I ended up drawing up some documents to try to aid them if that were to become an issue, but it certainly wasn't ironclad.
Over the years, many members of my gradually evolving chosen family ended up with us because they were in that same sort of limbo, and because there are a lot of practical and emotional benefits to being part of a family group. I still don't think our society handles that increasing gap, and the larger numbers of us who aren't choosing traditional families, at all well. It's a lot of why I'd like to see "legal next of kin" be a simple document you could change annually without penalty, that would be as accessible as the "motor voter" registrations are now, and that could apply to any person you choose. I've lived with Becca for almost 10 years now, for example. She has no legal standing in my life, wouldn't even be able to qualify as domestic partners, since the government has a relatively disconcerting interest in one's sex life in that regard (it'd be considered fraud for us to claim that, even back when she was single, because we don't sleep together). It's possible to create the kinds of legal protections we'd need, mostly, but it's many of the same issues that apply to same-sex partnerships, and exactly the same problems in terms of complications and expense of setting that up, and uncertainty about how it'd be handled in the legal system if something did actually happen. I'd rather than we make that easier for everyone, and that we acknowledge that plenty of us don't have the particular kinship ties on which so much is based. And all this is reminding me that one of the projects on the "as soon as we get the tax refund" list is getting all the legal paperwork drawn up to protect the household in case I get hit by a bus.
OK, enough rambling for now. I'm especially interested in other people's take on these kinds of issues; I've only got the one perspective.
Made it through an entire pay period without any FMLA time! Whoohoo! On the downside, I managed it during a flare, so I have very little interesting to report about life because aside from work I'm spending most of it sleeping. However, I did get a chance to see a friend from high school on Thursday, and that was a lovely time. In reconnecting with people over the years in various ways (something I have a substantial tendency toward doing) it's been nice to find how often we still do have a good deal in common, and how the underlying trust and comfort can last and just lay dormant for so long. Not always, certainly, and probably not even most of the time, but more often than I would've expected.
Last time we saw each other was a decade ago, and high school is coming up on 20 years ago. Wow. I left for college in '91, and never lived in Michigan again. I stayed on campus for most breaks and all my summers, and Mom and Dad moved to AL while I was in college. For all intents and purposes, summer of '91 is where my social history in Michigan ends; my contacts with folks from there and then have been rare and sporadic since that time, especially since Grandma died and I stopped having a reason for visits up there at all. FB had put me back in touch with a large handful of the folks I cared about most, and I'd found a few along the way prior to that, but it's all been reconnecting more than connections that've been maintained over that entire timespan.
It's weird to remember that life and history continued along merrily without me, that there's so much context I just don't have. FB's reconnected me with so many of the people I liked best, and it makes me wonder how different life would've been if something like FB had existed then. I miss what I didn't experience with them, but I also see a lot of value in the kind of psychological clean slate I had at Kenyon. I could explore myself and figure out who I was more easily, much like my experiences with summer camps prior to that (I went to a lot of summer camps, both academic and traditional, and I always eagerly awaited that chance to escape all the views people already had of me as the weird brainy socially inept priest's kid). I went to college out of state partially because I did want that, and I suspect it's a lot harder to have that experience these days than it was back then. Pluses and minuses to the world being so interconnected these days, I think. It's part of why I'm fascinated by the whole FB thing; it's an integration of time periods in my life that never really touched each other previously. It's bizarre and fascinating and sometimes a bit overwhelming.
Part of the reason I get so thinky about it all is the odd contrast in my life; I think very much in terms of communities and networks and connections to other people. However, to a large extent that's an entirely voluntary part of my life in a way that seems uncommon, at least compared to the examples I see around me. Hell, it's probably part of why I think about it so much; it's had to be a conscious process for me. First of all, I have a tiny family that's been scattered all over the country my entire life. "Family", in my general usage of it, really means just my folks and my sibs; I might see other family members every 5-10 years, but they're just not a part of the context of my life in any real way. The biggest adjustment I've had to handle in that regard is getting a sister-in-law, which was made infinitely easier by the fact that I like her a lot and we get along easily and well. I've intentionally worked to maintain closeness with my immediate family, since we haven't lived in the same state since I was in high school (except Matt, who moved up here a few years ago). I honestly like them, and value those relationships, but it would've been easy to let things drift if I didn't feel that way.
That's really a huge factor in how my life works; it's a radically different world from having cousins coming out your ears and aunts around every corner. Many people I know are living in the same city with their family and extended family (and family friends, and old teachers, etc), and it's a totally different dynamic; something I've never really experienced, and which feels utterly foreign to me. Even many of those who've moved away still get a bit of that experience when they go home to visit. I don't -- Mom and Dad moved states while I was in college, and I rather intentionally never formed ties beyond them in their new location. There is no place that is "home" to me that I haven't created. I developed my various connections at Kenyon from scratch, from the "clean slate" I was talking about earlier. I did the same when I moved to Cleveland. And yet, concepts of community are deeply important to me in ways they don't necessarily seem to be to many others in the same position as me. I suspect growing up deeply embedded within church community has a lot to do with that, especially since it was a positive experience for me (I'm sure I'd feel differently if I'd had more bad experiences with christianity as a kid/teen).
Going back to Kenyon is probably the closest I ever get to the weird conflicted bizarre feelings many people have about "going home". All the same, it's a very individualistic experience of community -- none that I have solely because of family, with all the connections and memories and love and traditions and social constraints and tensions and such that I see folks wrestle with on a regular basis. Just to pick one clear example, it's part of why being so out about everything has been a relatively easy process in my life. For the most part, I get to entirely freely decide who I do and don't keep in my life, or add to it. Beyond not being situated within my family-of-origin's community, I'm also not situated within a new family in any traditional way. Because I'm "mostly single" and childfree, and generally prefer to stay that way, I don't have to deal with a spouse's work environment, or kids' friends' parents, or any of that. Opting out of all that seems to suit me, and I've done a lot of intentional creation of community as an alternate way of existing and having the social ties I need to be happy, but it's a weird way to live, at least statistically and historically.
It reminds me a bit of what I used to talk about a lot in my 20s in regards to intentional chosen family; that our society and social support networks haven't really adapted to the way things have changed -- to the numbers of people who no longer move directly from a family of origin to a family of marriage. At the time I didn't really know that I would end up deciding against the latter option entirely, but I certainly didn't expect to "settle down" until my my late twenties or early thirties, at least. I became particularly sensitized to the issue when my mom had to be involuntarily hospitalized, and I realized that as a single adult without any family in the state, it would be exceedingly difficult for my nearest and dearest to do the same for me if it were necessary, or to get any information once I was in. I ended up drawing up some documents to try to aid them if that were to become an issue, but it certainly wasn't ironclad.
Over the years, many members of my gradually evolving chosen family ended up with us because they were in that same sort of limbo, and because there are a lot of practical and emotional benefits to being part of a family group. I still don't think our society handles that increasing gap, and the larger numbers of us who aren't choosing traditional families, at all well. It's a lot of why I'd like to see "legal next of kin" be a simple document you could change annually without penalty, that would be as accessible as the "motor voter" registrations are now, and that could apply to any person you choose. I've lived with Becca for almost 10 years now, for example. She has no legal standing in my life, wouldn't even be able to qualify as domestic partners, since the government has a relatively disconcerting interest in one's sex life in that regard (it'd be considered fraud for us to claim that, even back when she was single, because we don't sleep together). It's possible to create the kinds of legal protections we'd need, mostly, but it's many of the same issues that apply to same-sex partnerships, and exactly the same problems in terms of complications and expense of setting that up, and uncertainty about how it'd be handled in the legal system if something did actually happen. I'd rather than we make that easier for everyone, and that we acknowledge that plenty of us don't have the particular kinship ties on which so much is based. And all this is reminding me that one of the projects on the "as soon as we get the tax refund" list is getting all the legal paperwork drawn up to protect the household in case I get hit by a bus.
OK, enough rambling for now. I'm especially interested in other people's take on these kinds of issues; I've only got the one perspective.