Tonight your faithful correspondent will talk with ardent lesbian admirer John McIntire during the 11 PM hour on KDKA.  Our topics of conversation will be Brokeback Mountain and other random LGBT issues. 

Call in!

Sue

Sometimes, the best part of a mystery novel is a few pages after the crime is solved.

Last weekend, I picked up Sara Paretsky's latest at the library.  I was looking forward to visiting with my old friend V I Warshawski over the weekend while I recuperated from the vetiges of the flu.  That it was a scathing indictment of Wal-Mart only added to the deliciousness. 

In the final scene, Victoria is discussing her discouragement with her friend and mentor, Lotty.  Vic had solved the crime and saved some lives on top of putting a few back together.  Nonetheless, she was on the cusp of surrendering to the "drop in a bucket" feeling of despair.  Lotty comforts her.

"If a Messiah ever does come, it will only be because of people like you, doing these small, hard jobs, making small changes in this hard world." 

What you may not know is that in between bantering with John McIntire and scouring the Internet for the latest homonews, I'm a social worker.  I work for a medium sized nonprofit human services agency.  Some of my work is directly with consumers; some is behind the scenes.  But, lately, its been discouraging. 

The agency is a pretty good place to work.  My supervisors are good people who have a lot to teach me.  But even in the best of circumstances, human services is a taxing field.  It is exhausting to be continuously exposed to daunting odds. 

I spent the past six weeks feverishly consumed by holiday projects.  Living, breathing and sleeping Christmas.  Three days before the holidays, I realized that I was actually defining success by how MANY gifts I solicited.  It wasn't until we began to divide them up among our children and I saw how much they each received, that it hit me and I was appalled at myself.  

I told myself that it was for the kids, but that's patently untrue.  It was for the win, the victory, the success. I wasn't going to let my idea fail.  And thank god, I saw that in time to turn at least a little bit of that success into a better Christmas for some children who weren't part of my master plan. 

I'm probably being too hard on myself.  Many children had a great holiday because of this program.  Many people had a chance to experience the pleasure of generosity and giving because of this program. 

But it felt like a little drop of nothing to me. 

I lost perspective. Working that hard for a holiday for 100 children in a world filled with millions of suffering children seemed wasteful and pointless. I should be out doing something bigger, something more meaningful. 

I lost sight of the real meaning of my work.  It wasn't about winning the holiday toy drive  and it wasn't about helping only 100 children.  It was about being present in the holidays and using my tools to keep those children and all children in the hearts and minds of the hard world. 

Happy 2006.

Who the heck waits 45 minutes on a Wednesday night to eat at Olive Garden?  in Pittsburgh!  

Needing a meal while doing errands on McNightmare Road last Weds night, we grudgingly decided that cookie-cutter Italian food was the best option among the chain restaurants.  I should have known something was amiss when I encountered a crowd of mighty whites milling about the front of the restaurant. 

I hate McKnight Road and all that it represents.  Having lived in the Mon Valley for many a year, it was jolting to me to go into the McIntyre Square Giant Eagle and not see a single person of color.  And over the past 6 months, I can probably count on one hand the times I've seen anyone who was NOT a white middle class person in any of the stores up there.  Not counting the guy who stands in front of K-Mart holding the sale sign.

People get uncomfortable when I bring this up.  They aren't sure whether to laugh or not.  Is she being satirical?  Are we laughing at racism?  Do I see people of color at my grocery store?

I'm not supposed to talk about these uncomfortable topics for fear of violating the "don't ask, don't tell" policy of the region's middle class liberal elites.  The ones who drive SUV's, join Curves and live in Cranberry, but rail against Bush and other Republican nonsense. 

(Disclaimer:  I drive a Honda CRV so I fully acknowledge that I'm part of the problem.)

I don't like going to the North Hills because it feels artificial and stultifying and that's not just because of the yellow ribbon car magnet crowd.  Is there a causal relationship between the proclivity to abandon the city/inner suburbs and the erosion of liberal values? 

My current great fear is that I am succumbing to the temptations of a more prosperous middle class white lifestyle at the cost of my personal identity and beliefs.  I look around at my life and realize how insular its become, espcially the more active I've become in the LGBT community.  Most of my friends right now are other white middle class people and we tend to do white middle class things.  The fact that some of those couples are gay and some straight does not comfort me. 

Sue