Thursday, October 12, 2006
Heartbreak…
I know the story with these guys, that’s why I do what I do, to somehow make it better. But some days I just wonder if there is any way at all to make a difference. Empowerment is the buzzword of the day, but it’s a complicated word. Doing empowerment work, empowering others, is nearly impossible. You can’t make someone else empowered; you can’t force empowerment on anyone, because, then, is it really empowerment? No, people have to choose to be empowered and do it for themselves. You can only provide opportunity and tools. But when you are providing opportunity and tools and no one wants to make use of them it can be awfully depressing. The boys that I work with are more often than not hopeless, not meaning that nothing can be done with them, but meaning they have no hope for themselves. I’ve known this all along. I know that the odds are against them. I know that they know it. But to hear and talk to them about it, and to fully realize how caught up in that reality they are, is heartbreaking. Today, somehow, I got into a conversation with a couple my students about how they don’t expect to live past twenty-five and how they can never envision a life without violence. One student said that seeing blood and someone else on the floor made him happy because he knew it wasn’t him. The other student, waxing philosophical, explained how the system was against him to the point where it would be useless to get out, and if he’s going to be part of that world and die young anyway, he might as well go out with a bang. It’s unfortunate to note that I actually agreed with a lot he said. Not the part about needing to go out with a bang, but about the system. He already, at 18, has been tried as an adult and received a felony charge, one strike, as he put it. With that strike it makes it difficult for him to get a job or to be accepted in another part of society. And when I mentioned trying to move away from the city, he said that he would never have the money to do that. His attitude was completely self-defeating, with reason. And with that self-defeating attitude he probably won’t ever take advantage of the tools and opportunities we are trying to provide for him. He said he was just thinking realistically, he doesn’t want to have expectations and plans for the future and then be disappointed. But I think the truth of the situation is that this particular student, being intelligent, could probably do something to get out except for the fact that he doesn’t believe that it’s possible. Violence, death, and drugs are a part of their “culture” they say, and to survive in their neighborhoods they see the need to embrace that culture, which only perpetuates those behaviors. So I had one of those days, wondering if I could ever actually make any difference for these guys, wondering if there was anyway to really help them out. Seeing them in a locked down, secure environment I get to see them with out their tough street personas. Of course, they are still trying to look cool for each other, as adolescent nature dictates, but their childlike selves become more apparent. After all, they really are just children. Some of them can be very gentle in nature, but they are forced to be aggressive for self-preservation. They have great senses of humor, they are creative, and talented, and some off them can often be very considerate. I really care about them all a great deal. Maybe that’s my mistake; maybe I will be forever heartbroken. More often than not the pattern is that they will return to the street and the culture of violence and either end up back in the prison system or dead within a fairly short amount of time. I want to help them. I would love for them to be empowered, get control of their lives and end up doing what they want to do. But all I can do is to be there to provide opportunity and tools.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Flying the friendly skies…
Now that I am no longer foaming so much at the mouth. I would like to share an interesting experience I had a couple of weekends ago. This is an extraordinary tale of the abuse of power, lies, and just plain rudeness. It begins with a visit from my mother and my 3 almost 4 year old nephew. We had a fabulous time. When the day of departure arrived, things started off well. We went to Thai brunch at the Thai temple, and went on a short shopping expedition before heading home to finishing packing bags and load the car. Their plane was set to depart at 4pm, which meant I had to get my mother and nephew to the airport by 3 at the latest, 2:30 preferably. All went well. We made it to the airport in good time. I helped them carry the luggage in to the counter and saw them off at the security checkpoint. Then I headed home.
About half an hour after getting home I receive a frantic call from my father. He was talking to my mother on her cell phone when all of a sudden she hung up. He thought she said, but wasn't sure, that she was being arrested right before she hung up. I call my mother and get a hold of her. All that I can get out of her is that she and my nephew were thrown off the plane and standing at the ticket counter. I immediately jump back in my car and head back to the airport.
Here is my mother’s tale of what happened:
“On September 24, 2006, Thor and I went to the Oakland Airport to return to Missoula. Dora stayed with us until we got to the security check-in. As we entered, a tiny woman looked at our boarding passes and my driver’s license. She then looked at Thor’s boarding pass and said to me, “What kind name he got? Why he no got American name?” in heavily accented English. I looked at her nametag, which held a difficult Asian name and said, “He has an American name, he is American.” She then got in Thor’s face and yelled, “What you name, boy? Tell me you name.” several times while Thor kept saying “Thor.”
After we got through the security checkpoint, I called my husband and complained about someone who could barely speak English and had a difficult name saying that Thor’s name wasn’t American. I told him I thought TSA should hire people that speak English and reminded him that many of the TSA people we have dealt with in the Bay Area are not American. Which seems silly to me: who cares more about American security, Americans or non-Americans?
We waited at the gate until it was time to check in. As we handed in our boarding passes, the male gate agent looked at the car seat I was carrying and said, “Are you going to sit in that?”
“No,” I said, “he is.” And the guy laughed. I had checked with the ticket people in Missoula when we flew down and they had said no problem about the car seat. So Thor flew down in his car seat. It was comfortable for him and sat him high enough that he could see out the window. I also checked on each flight and, with the seat arms down, it was solid, didn’t move.
When we got on the plane, Thor was ahead of me. The stewardess asked me to let her check the seat so I handed it to her. Thor sat in an empty seat to wait for me. The label on the seat was worn and she couldn’t read it. She said she would need to check with someone. I told her that we’d used it flying down. She said she still wanted to check and that I was welcome to go to my seat. I said I didn’t mind waiting.
I waited quietly at the front of the plane until almost everyone was on. A couple times, I said I didn’t understand why it was OK flying down but not back. The stewardess just said she needed to check with someone. When the plane was about _ full, she asked me to go to my seat so I got Thor and went back to our seats. When everyone was on, she came and told me we couldn’t use the seat, that it had to be gate checked. I said OK, then added, “Please be careful with it, tape up the straps, we going to need it when we get there and I would want you to be responsible for it being broken.” The stewardess took it out of the plane.
At that point, Thor started crying and saying he wanted his car seat so he could be safe. I told him I wanted it, too, but we had to do what the lady said. He continued to cry quietly. The stewardess came back and said, “Is there a problem here?”
I was hoping she could reassure him so I said to Thor, “Tell what the problem is, sweetie.”
Thor said, “I want my car seat.”
The stewardess said, “Well, I, unlike your mother, care about your safety” in a really insulting voice.
I didn’t want Thor to hear that from a stranger so I said, “Don’t listen to that, she’s full of it.”
The stewardess then left and another woman, Habiba, came and said, “Could you step off the plane?”
I followed her down the aisle and off the plane and she said something to the effect that I wasn’t going to be allowed on this flight, that they would get me on the next flight.
I asked why, what had I done? And who would take care of Thor on the plane?
She said she didn’t know what I had done, that the stewardess just didn’t want me on the plane. I said I didn’t understand, that I had not raised my voice or sworn (I had been careful not to do either of those). She said that they would get me on a later flight and that I should get my things and Thor.
I went back down the aisle to Thor. The stewardess was standing next to him talking. I don’t know what she was telling him. I got him and our stuff. Then I looked at her smiling meanly at me and said, “You bitch, you enjoy doing this, don’t you?”
On the way off the plane, I got the car seat that was just sitting in the hallway. I also asked Habiba and the male gate attendant over and over what I had done. No one would tell me. Finally, when I got out to the gate, I started to cry and hyperventilate. I was so upset and no one would tell me anything. They told me that if I didn’t stop crying, they would have me arrested. They also wanted to know what my bags looked like so they could get them off the plane. I told them but they wanted more details. I said I was so upset, I could hardly think, let alone describe my luggage more clearly.
Then they said that they would get me on a plane the next day, not later the same day. At that point, I called my husband and told him that I had been thrown off the plane. I said that the whole day had been a mess, that that lady (meaning the TSA one) who probably wasn’t even American had been rude to us. At that point, Habiba said, “OK, that’s it, I’m calling security and having you arrested.”
I hung up and said, “What? What did I do now?”
She said, “You are saying that I am not American.”
I said, “I was talking to my husband, not to you. I was talking about the TSA lady. You’re just an eavesdropper and you have no idea what I am talking about. Eavesdroppers often jump to the wrong conclusion.”
Habiba said, “What are you calling me? What is an eavesdropper?”
“An eavesdropper is someone who listens in on someone else’s conversations. It’s considered rude.”
At that point, Habiba started yelling and calling me names to the point that Thor stopped crying and came and stood in front of me and said to her, “Be nice. You be nice to my nana!”
She finally calmed down and the male gate attendant returned from wherever he’d been. He said I’d been thrown off the plane for refusing to gate check the car seat, an obvious lie. I asked about getting on the next plane. They said I had to leave the secure area and go out to the ticket agent in the front.
I took Thor and headed out there. After waiting in line (Dora showed up after 10 minutes or so and watched Thor), they told me I had to use a phone and call. Thirty minutes after that, I got a reservation person on the phone who told me that if I had gotten myself thrown off the plane they had no further responsibility to me. She said I could call customer service and gave me that number. When I called it, they were closed until Monday. I went back to the ticket person who was unhelpful (actually, by that time, all three of them had been unhelpful and then disappeared) but who did give me my luggage back.
I went over to Alaska to see about getting tickets with them. Dora, at that point, had been listening in and had managed to get the remaining agents attention. When I returned from Alaska, a supervisor (Elfi) had shown up and was talking with her. She agreed to get us on a flight in the am. “
I found my mother and nephew standing at one of the courtesy phones for the airline (Has it been mentioned yet that it was Delta?). She was having no success getting through. My mother was upset and unsure what to do so she headed over to another airline. I told her that she shouldn’t have to do that. The airline should take responsibility for inappropriately handling the situation. At this point I was infuriated (few have seen me in this state). So I went up the counter, (cutting in line, for shame) and proceeded to ask a very unresponsive young man what they were going to do to reconcile the situation. I said that my mother should not have to suffer because they decided they didn’t like her. That is not a reason to kick anyone off and airplane (or so I thought at the time). I told the guy that I was thinking of contacting my news media contacts about this story. Then I started warning customers coming up to the counter to beware of Delta because they might randomly decide to kick you off the plane for no good reason.
I think, but am not positive, it was at this point that the young man I was speaking to went to go get the supervisor and the women working at the check-in butted in. We didn’t kick your mother off for no reason. She was very rude. My mother? I know my mother and she might get pissy with you if you start something first but she is not going to start anything. How do you know, you weren’t there. I was there and she was very rude. Are you telling me I don’t know my own mother? I’ve known her my whole life and know how she acts. And even if she was, as you say, rude, what grounds is that for kicking someone off a plane? You don’t know you weren’t there. I know I wasn’t there, but I do know my mother and I’ve heard the story from both her and my father, with whom she was on the phone at the time. Your actions were completely inappropriate. (I am refraining from writing the swear words I am sure were scattered here and there through out our conversation). This woman was raising her voice and being very rude, obviously she has had no training in deescalating potentially volatile situations. Not that this situation would have become volatile. I have a lot of self-control.
Around this time the supervisor showed up. And I have to give her props for maintaining a very calm demeanor while I explained to her how completely outrageous the situation was. I told her that there was a complete lack of customer service. Having worked in customer service my self for many years, I had never felt it was necessary or appropriate to remove someone because they were rude (although I would have liked to many times). She told that the ground crew has no control over what the flight crew does. I got from this that basically they are a law unto themselves. I demanded that they get my mother and my nephew on another plane immediately since they needed to be home for my mother to go to work. She asked to speak to my mother instead of me since she was the party involved. So, I took Thor and called up my dad to fill him in on what was going on. I proceeded to speak in a loud voice about how horrible the airline was being and I encouraged Thor who was messing with the line dividers of a neighboring airline to go break the Delta ones instead. Eventually the supervisor agreed to get my mother and Thor on another plane. I’m not sure that all of my behavior was completely appropriate, but I am pretty sure that things would not have worked out so well if I had not put up such a fuss. I thanked the supervisor for being the most reasonable person there and apologized for my behavior towards her, but not the others.
Does this situation represent how out of control everything is getting? Does the individual matter so little that we are forced to strike out at each other to feel secure or to get attention? Why were these people so ready to believe that my mother was acting against them, why were they so threatened? Is this going to be the norm from now on in our (artificial?) “atmosphere of fear”? Do we need to we all need to walk on tenterhooks, afraid that anyone one of us might be the next to spring? What does this do to a sense of community and sense of brother/sisterhood with are fellow human beings? Are these even the right questions? Any answers for me? Please?
About half an hour after getting home I receive a frantic call from my father. He was talking to my mother on her cell phone when all of a sudden she hung up. He thought she said, but wasn't sure, that she was being arrested right before she hung up. I call my mother and get a hold of her. All that I can get out of her is that she and my nephew were thrown off the plane and standing at the ticket counter. I immediately jump back in my car and head back to the airport.
Here is my mother’s tale of what happened:
“On September 24, 2006, Thor and I went to the Oakland Airport to return to Missoula. Dora stayed with us until we got to the security check-in. As we entered, a tiny woman looked at our boarding passes and my driver’s license. She then looked at Thor’s boarding pass and said to me, “What kind name he got? Why he no got American name?” in heavily accented English. I looked at her nametag, which held a difficult Asian name and said, “He has an American name, he is American.” She then got in Thor’s face and yelled, “What you name, boy? Tell me you name.” several times while Thor kept saying “Thor.”
After we got through the security checkpoint, I called my husband and complained about someone who could barely speak English and had a difficult name saying that Thor’s name wasn’t American. I told him I thought TSA should hire people that speak English and reminded him that many of the TSA people we have dealt with in the Bay Area are not American. Which seems silly to me: who cares more about American security, Americans or non-Americans?
We waited at the gate until it was time to check in. As we handed in our boarding passes, the male gate agent looked at the car seat I was carrying and said, “Are you going to sit in that?”
“No,” I said, “he is.” And the guy laughed. I had checked with the ticket people in Missoula when we flew down and they had said no problem about the car seat. So Thor flew down in his car seat. It was comfortable for him and sat him high enough that he could see out the window. I also checked on each flight and, with the seat arms down, it was solid, didn’t move.
When we got on the plane, Thor was ahead of me. The stewardess asked me to let her check the seat so I handed it to her. Thor sat in an empty seat to wait for me. The label on the seat was worn and she couldn’t read it. She said she would need to check with someone. I told her that we’d used it flying down. She said she still wanted to check and that I was welcome to go to my seat. I said I didn’t mind waiting.
I waited quietly at the front of the plane until almost everyone was on. A couple times, I said I didn’t understand why it was OK flying down but not back. The stewardess just said she needed to check with someone. When the plane was about _ full, she asked me to go to my seat so I got Thor and went back to our seats. When everyone was on, she came and told me we couldn’t use the seat, that it had to be gate checked. I said OK, then added, “Please be careful with it, tape up the straps, we going to need it when we get there and I would want you to be responsible for it being broken.” The stewardess took it out of the plane.
At that point, Thor started crying and saying he wanted his car seat so he could be safe. I told him I wanted it, too, but we had to do what the lady said. He continued to cry quietly. The stewardess came back and said, “Is there a problem here?”
I was hoping she could reassure him so I said to Thor, “Tell what the problem is, sweetie.”
Thor said, “I want my car seat.”
The stewardess said, “Well, I, unlike your mother, care about your safety” in a really insulting voice.
I didn’t want Thor to hear that from a stranger so I said, “Don’t listen to that, she’s full of it.”
The stewardess then left and another woman, Habiba, came and said, “Could you step off the plane?”
I followed her down the aisle and off the plane and she said something to the effect that I wasn’t going to be allowed on this flight, that they would get me on the next flight.
I asked why, what had I done? And who would take care of Thor on the plane?
She said she didn’t know what I had done, that the stewardess just didn’t want me on the plane. I said I didn’t understand, that I had not raised my voice or sworn (I had been careful not to do either of those). She said that they would get me on a later flight and that I should get my things and Thor.
I went back down the aisle to Thor. The stewardess was standing next to him talking. I don’t know what she was telling him. I got him and our stuff. Then I looked at her smiling meanly at me and said, “You bitch, you enjoy doing this, don’t you?”
On the way off the plane, I got the car seat that was just sitting in the hallway. I also asked Habiba and the male gate attendant over and over what I had done. No one would tell me. Finally, when I got out to the gate, I started to cry and hyperventilate. I was so upset and no one would tell me anything. They told me that if I didn’t stop crying, they would have me arrested. They also wanted to know what my bags looked like so they could get them off the plane. I told them but they wanted more details. I said I was so upset, I could hardly think, let alone describe my luggage more clearly.
Then they said that they would get me on a plane the next day, not later the same day. At that point, I called my husband and told him that I had been thrown off the plane. I said that the whole day had been a mess, that that lady (meaning the TSA one) who probably wasn’t even American had been rude to us. At that point, Habiba said, “OK, that’s it, I’m calling security and having you arrested.”
I hung up and said, “What? What did I do now?”
She said, “You are saying that I am not American.”
I said, “I was talking to my husband, not to you. I was talking about the TSA lady. You’re just an eavesdropper and you have no idea what I am talking about. Eavesdroppers often jump to the wrong conclusion.”
Habiba said, “What are you calling me? What is an eavesdropper?”
“An eavesdropper is someone who listens in on someone else’s conversations. It’s considered rude.”
At that point, Habiba started yelling and calling me names to the point that Thor stopped crying and came and stood in front of me and said to her, “Be nice. You be nice to my nana!”
She finally calmed down and the male gate attendant returned from wherever he’d been. He said I’d been thrown off the plane for refusing to gate check the car seat, an obvious lie. I asked about getting on the next plane. They said I had to leave the secure area and go out to the ticket agent in the front.
I took Thor and headed out there. After waiting in line (Dora showed up after 10 minutes or so and watched Thor), they told me I had to use a phone and call. Thirty minutes after that, I got a reservation person on the phone who told me that if I had gotten myself thrown off the plane they had no further responsibility to me. She said I could call customer service and gave me that number. When I called it, they were closed until Monday. I went back to the ticket person who was unhelpful (actually, by that time, all three of them had been unhelpful and then disappeared) but who did give me my luggage back.
I went over to Alaska to see about getting tickets with them. Dora, at that point, had been listening in and had managed to get the remaining agents attention. When I returned from Alaska, a supervisor (Elfi) had shown up and was talking with her. She agreed to get us on a flight in the am. “
I found my mother and nephew standing at one of the courtesy phones for the airline (Has it been mentioned yet that it was Delta?). She was having no success getting through. My mother was upset and unsure what to do so she headed over to another airline. I told her that she shouldn’t have to do that. The airline should take responsibility for inappropriately handling the situation. At this point I was infuriated (few have seen me in this state). So I went up the counter, (cutting in line, for shame) and proceeded to ask a very unresponsive young man what they were going to do to reconcile the situation. I said that my mother should not have to suffer because they decided they didn’t like her. That is not a reason to kick anyone off and airplane (or so I thought at the time). I told the guy that I was thinking of contacting my news media contacts about this story. Then I started warning customers coming up to the counter to beware of Delta because they might randomly decide to kick you off the plane for no good reason.
I think, but am not positive, it was at this point that the young man I was speaking to went to go get the supervisor and the women working at the check-in butted in. We didn’t kick your mother off for no reason. She was very rude. My mother? I know my mother and she might get pissy with you if you start something first but she is not going to start anything. How do you know, you weren’t there. I was there and she was very rude. Are you telling me I don’t know my own mother? I’ve known her my whole life and know how she acts. And even if she was, as you say, rude, what grounds is that for kicking someone off a plane? You don’t know you weren’t there. I know I wasn’t there, but I do know my mother and I’ve heard the story from both her and my father, with whom she was on the phone at the time. Your actions were completely inappropriate. (I am refraining from writing the swear words I am sure were scattered here and there through out our conversation). This woman was raising her voice and being very rude, obviously she has had no training in deescalating potentially volatile situations. Not that this situation would have become volatile. I have a lot of self-control.
Around this time the supervisor showed up. And I have to give her props for maintaining a very calm demeanor while I explained to her how completely outrageous the situation was. I told her that there was a complete lack of customer service. Having worked in customer service my self for many years, I had never felt it was necessary or appropriate to remove someone because they were rude (although I would have liked to many times). She told that the ground crew has no control over what the flight crew does. I got from this that basically they are a law unto themselves. I demanded that they get my mother and my nephew on another plane immediately since they needed to be home for my mother to go to work. She asked to speak to my mother instead of me since she was the party involved. So, I took Thor and called up my dad to fill him in on what was going on. I proceeded to speak in a loud voice about how horrible the airline was being and I encouraged Thor who was messing with the line dividers of a neighboring airline to go break the Delta ones instead. Eventually the supervisor agreed to get my mother and Thor on another plane. I’m not sure that all of my behavior was completely appropriate, but I am pretty sure that things would not have worked out so well if I had not put up such a fuss. I thanked the supervisor for being the most reasonable person there and apologized for my behavior towards her, but not the others.
Does this situation represent how out of control everything is getting? Does the individual matter so little that we are forced to strike out at each other to feel secure or to get attention? Why were these people so ready to believe that my mother was acting against them, why were they so threatened? Is this going to be the norm from now on in our (artificial?) “atmosphere of fear”? Do we need to we all need to walk on tenterhooks, afraid that anyone one of us might be the next to spring? What does this do to a sense of community and sense of brother/sisterhood with are fellow human beings? Are these even the right questions? Any answers for me? Please?
Bloggity, blog, blog, blog.
Everybody is doing it. And I guess I’m just like everybody. I was successfully tempted into the blog world (after many years of consideration and study) by the need to share a particular story.
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