A seat at the table

I've spent a lot of the last six months frustrated beyond belief.

At work.
At home.
At church.
On Facebook.
Over email.
And the last few weeks, at Tristan's school.

I understand that some of these are probably ridiculous, but there is a common thread running through all of the frustrations:

My perspective, my words, are being dismissed or ignored. Constantly.

I've heard from my former research colleagues (when I couldn't make a 3 pm meeting because of T's school schedule) "Well, what works for the working mothers in the group?"  (ummm, I still work, thanks--but not your standard hours).  I've heard comments about my not being a "real" professor because I teach online (for a very reputable school and in a nationally-accredited college of Education). I was also told that "basically anyone could do what you do," when working with youth at the church and "any parent knows how to work with kids" (while I understand that any parent COULD work with kids, that doesn't mean that every parent knows how!)

I've also had my concerns over helping T adjust to the classroom and knowing a "safe place" to calm down when he gets overwhelmed ignored during orientation....only to get a call the next day for ideas (from me) on how to help him adjust because he's overwhelmed in the new space.  I had the principle basically laugh at me when I said I was concerned mostly over the teacher's safety when T had a meltdown because I'd been a teacher myself and knew that feeling of powerlessness--I don't know if it was because he found it hard to believe that I could be afraid of my own kid (ask any parent with a kid on the spectrum and who has behavioral/tantrum issues at times--we have physical scars and emotional ones to go with them) or if it was because he didn't believe I'd really taught before.

I've gotten into logical discussions on facebook over politics and social justice and philosophy and been completely ignored or shut out of the conversation by other posters (usually not the person the discussion began with--and, frankly, usually older males).  Just because I'm "only" in my 30s, don't hold a full professorial role (by the way, those represent less than 30% of teaching staff at colleges--or less--these days, and I personally don't know anyone under about 40 years old right now who's even able to claim that they're on tenure track).  I do realize that it's facebook and it's the silliest place to have serious discussions, but I also have this happen on a regular basis on in-person and classroom forum situations.

And I don't mean to sound cranky or bitter about it, but here's the thing:  I want a seat at the table.

I want to stop feeling like because I chose to stay home with the kids, my job(s) haven't paid much, and my areas of expertise are children, identity and faith development, I'm somehow considered not worth listening to.  I want to feel welcomed into the conversations and valued.

And I know I'm not alone, which is why I guess I took the time to write this post.

Before you dismiss someone's views because they're too young, too disassociated, too 'uninformed,' or too....not you or your immediate friends, pause.  listen and reflect.

Realize that sometimes the ways in which we (especially in the church) isolate others is in failing to listen.

It takes so little effort to listen and respond (with appropriate respect) really--and it empowers so much.

This is why youth council was formed at our church--a few kids had great ideas and the adults sat around saying that they were worried kids would leave and were trying to find ways to entice them to stay....without asking the kids what they wanted.  Adults knew better, right?  Empowerment--giving room for self advocacy should be a no-brainer, but it's often not.  Those in power like to think that they got that way because of all of their experience, knowledge, and ability.

I'd like to argue that that's not true--they got there because someone gave them a chance, an important seat at the table.

I'd like to see that opportunity given to more people, rather than exalting those who already have those seats as somehow deserving of more power, prestige and praise.  Spread the love around, and do so through listening--really listening--and lobbying on behalf of new people who deserve to have a chance at leading.