The Short Bus

I finished reading The Short Bus by Jonathan Mooney an I really liked it. (Note to those following the blog closely: I failed again at reading Religion for Atheists and I have to return it unread, again. But I promise I'll pick it up again after my vacation!) Mooney tells his story with compassion, both for himself and for the people he meets. Heck, he even has compassion for the bus. He makes his points well, too. As far as I can tell, Mooney has two main points in this book:

1) We should celebrate all people for their abilities, and we should never treat anyone as less than human because they think differently than we do.

2) Labels cause more difficulties than they are worth.

I love the first point. After all, that's a fine Humanist statement, and Mooney tests it with visits to a girl who is both deaf and blind, a man who seems to make no sense when he talks, and Burning Man. But he manages to find some beauty in everyone he meets and is convincing in his argument that one school model cannot serve everyone and everyone deserves the opportunity to learn.

On the second point, though, Mooney and I differ a bit. I think labels, when used correctly, can be very helpful. That's why teachers like IEP's (Individualized Educational Plans.) A well-written IEP gives a teacher valuable information about how a child learns, so that she doesn't have to discover it all again. Valuable weeks of school time can be saved, as well as plenty of frustration. In terms of a child's self-worth, and ADHD kid is going to be much better off in my classroom, on Sunday mornings and Tuesday afternoons, if I know he's ADHD and don't ask him to do things he physically can't do, than if I don't know he's ADHD and spend a lot of time trying to get him to sit down and be quiet.

Here's a better example: My Dad has really poor working memory. (Working memory is the part of the brain that remembers instructions and remembers to remember things.) To be clear, he's a really smart man: he has a PhD, he reads great literature, he can hold his own in an argument and he knows more about dinosaurs than any adult really should. But when he says he'll be somewhere, he may or may not show up.

This has been true his whole life. As a child, I often found myself waiting to be picked up at piano lessons, or driven past acting classes and having to double back because my dad got distracted while driving. He even forgot my daughter's first birthday celebration. When these things happened, there would be fights and recriminations and denials and no explanation to be found. These disputes caused a decent amount of stress in our family, and to this day I have anxiety whenever I have to meet someone or wait for someone.

Then, in his sixties, my dad got diagnosed with ADHD. Suddenly, everything made sense. We now understand what my dad can do and what he can't. He understands it, too. So when he's supposed to be  at The Little Jewess's school for a special event, my mom makes sure he leaves early, and then he calls her when he gets there. He keeps his phone on so we can call him if he's not where he's supposed to be. My mom is now 100% in charge of their calendar, and she goes over with my dad where he's supposed to be when so he doesn't forget.

My dad's diagnosis was a moment of huge relief for all of us. Suddenly, there were books and websites he could turn to for hints on how to remember things better. My mom no longer blames him for not doing things he can't do, and instead of enabling him, she can structure things in a way that my dad doesn't forget and there is no crisis, and no ensuing fight.

So I kind of like labels. The catch is, the label can't be everything. You have to see the person above all, and treat that person with respect, even if that person needs help.

It's been an interesting weekend...

Last night I went to services at my Temple and had a great time. It was a pot luck dinner, which is always my favorite event, and then a musical service with added elements to honor Martin Luther King, Jr. We sang "We Shall Overcome" and the Junior Choir performed. Although the service didn't get the attendance we usually see at services with a pot luck, it was clearly a vibrant, multi-generational community with inspiring music and good discussion, people who know me and my family and remember to bring hard-boiled eggs to pot luck because my daughter loves them. And people bowing as they prayed to God.

This morning I found the local Humanist group. I was by far the youngest person there and one of only two people with children living at home (there were no children present and I don't expect there ever have been at these meetings.) A woman spoke about Robert Moses and there was a discussion about the implications of his work: the benefits of some of his projects balanced against the neighborhoods he destroyed and the utter devastation to communities wrought by some of the roads he planned. It was interesting and stimulating, and a pleasure to be with people who think about the ethics and consequences of things. I later went on their Facebook page and found links there to news about school prayer regulation, the death of Christopher Hitchens (more info about him at right) and the upcoming Lobby Day for Reason which is part of the Reason Rally that will take place in Washington at the end of March. And no songs, no children, no rituals.

So it's hard to know what to do. I firmly believe that people need rituals and music and ways to honor life-cycle events. Religion has existed for so long because it serves many purposes in our lives. The local Humanists are definitely a community and they welcomed me and encouraged me to return, and even to present if I like. I am sure that they are there for each other in difficult and joyous times and I think I may join them because I enjoyed the intellectual stimulation of being with them. Next time I may even join them for lunch. But this group cannot take the place that religion has held in my life all these years. I need more.

The folks at the Humanist meeting suggested I check out the local Ethical Culture Society. I've been resistant to that because they meet on Sundays. Somehow, going to a "religious" meeting on Sunday feels Christian to me, even if they are adamantly non-Christian, and that feels too alien to me. But it is worth a look. I will add it to my list of places to investigate. After all, Ethical Culture is one of the oldest forms of Humanism out there.

I have found something I like, even if it isn't everything I need, so that's a step. Next week I'm planning to return to the Reconstructionist Synagogue. The Rabbi there invited me to attend a Saturday morning service because she thought it might be more to my liking, so I feel I should give it another chance.

I'm starting to feel like researching the local religious (and non-religious) scene is my new hobby. It's certainly interesting, and I'm learning a lot.