The other night at the Bi Women's Group we all told our coming out stories to each other. Everyone's story is different and yet components are the same. The resonance each of us feels when we hear someone else say, "I just thought she was so cool! I didn't know that I liked girls 'that way,' but I knew... It was in the back of my head, but I ignored it..."
My coming out as bi was initially because of politics. At the time I said to not claim being bi would be the same as denying that the love I'd felt for either Denver D or for Shobi-wan wasn't real, and that wasn't right. But because I'd gotten involved with Odyssey's diversity training and questioned that we presented homosexuality but not bisexuality, I was selected to present that view [this was part of the name it, claim it volunteerism at Odyssey]. So the first time I really came out as bi, I came out to thirty or forty staff members, and the second time to another 75 teenagers.
After all these years, I'm still primarily politically bi. I identify as bisexual because it is who I am. I know that I appear to be straight, living the life I do married to a man, so I'm always on guard that people are going to question my marriage because of the stereotypes they hold about bisexual people. That makes me afraid to come out sometimes. Say what you like about me, but don't lecture me on my marriage and don't say word ONE about my husband. I should add though that in all the years I've been coming out as bi, I've never had to say that to anyone.
That makes me glad. And it's always nice to hear parts of my story in other people's lives, and parts of theirs in mine.
Showing posts with label Odyssey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Odyssey. Show all posts
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Wedding Crashers
Yesterday morning I was listening to The California Report story on the first legal same-sex marriages in the state. It started with people's words; the one I liked the best was the Clerk Officer who said that she was so excited to be able to perform marriages for everyone that she had been in tears on her way to work Tuesday morning. I'm a wedding softie and I cry at every wedding, regardless of how well I know the couple. I was all choked up, listening to love on the radio.
So I decided that today I would go to the Alameda County Recorder's Office to give flowers to newlyweds (mixed-sex ones too). I just want to be a part of it! I'm in favor of love and hope and community and if a wedding isn't about those things I don't know what is. Plus, while it is civil obedience, it has the tinge of civil disobedience, especially as we are facing a November "marriage = man + woman" ballot measure. However, people are really starting to feel like we might win this time; the number 51% has been bandied about in terms of how many people are in favor of any adult being able to marry any other adult. I keep hearing, "We have more important things to worry about than who's marrying whom." Even if it passes, I heard on Forum that it doesn't mean that all these people's marriages will be annulled, since they were legal when they happened.
On my way from BART, I passed a woman about my age and four children walking in the other direction. The little boy was in black shorts and a tailcoat, the little girl in a flowergirl's dress, and the two older girls, who may have been junior high schoolers, were wearing formals. They girls and the woman were carrying flowers, and in response to something someone asked I heard the woman say, "We're helping to celebrate love!" When I came upon them, I said, "I am too!"
Knitty and I met near the County Recorder's Building and took the elevator up to the "wedding room," which has several quilts designed on the theme of marriage and three pews. We sat in the anteroom with glitter-spinkled purple daisies and waited for something to happen. We absolutely didn't know what to expect, though neither of us were expecting just the two of us chatting quietly for about half an hour. Finally, a Clerk came in followed by a man and two women who appeared to be in their early 50's. Knitty figured out the man and which woman were the marrying couple; when they came out I offered the bride a daisy. She declined, saying the flower would die by the time they got back to Concord, but I think she may have just been terribly shy.
The second couple were a pair of young African Americans, along with about half a dozen parental types. The bride was wearing a short white dress perfect for today's heat and the groom was in a gold and black silk shirt that made him look like a million bucks. I offered the bride a daisy and she smiled and thanked me. The third couple, handsome South Asians or Middle Easterners in their mid-20s, were joined by three friends, one of whom was wearing a hijab. When they came out and I offered my congratulations, the groom took the flower and enthusiastically shook my hand.
So it wasn't exactly what we thought it would be. Knitty pointed out that maybe all the hoopla had happened here on Tuesday, or if it was still happening was happening in San Francisco. No and KT got married at SF's City Hall and it is a much jazzier place to tie the knot, it must be said. Still, I was happy with and for the people we saw in the 90 minutes we were there, even if they were all female/male couples. Because of Odyssey, and after returning from the Pacific Northwest, I am very appreciative of the diversity of cultures and races here.
Knitty told me that I was really brave for giving flowers and congratulations to strangers. I told her that I'm a dork. I'm just more willing than some to be a dork to strangers. Especially in the cause of love, hope, and community.
So I decided that today I would go to the Alameda County Recorder's Office to give flowers to newlyweds (mixed-sex ones too). I just want to be a part of it! I'm in favor of love and hope and community and if a wedding isn't about those things I don't know what is. Plus, while it is civil obedience, it has the tinge of civil disobedience, especially as we are facing a November "marriage = man + woman" ballot measure. However, people are really starting to feel like we might win this time; the number 51% has been bandied about in terms of how many people are in favor of any adult being able to marry any other adult. I keep hearing, "We have more important things to worry about than who's marrying whom." Even if it passes, I heard on Forum that it doesn't mean that all these people's marriages will be annulled, since they were legal when they happened.
On my way from BART, I passed a woman about my age and four children walking in the other direction. The little boy was in black shorts and a tailcoat, the little girl in a flowergirl's dress, and the two older girls, who may have been junior high schoolers, were wearing formals. They girls and the woman were carrying flowers, and in response to something someone asked I heard the woman say, "We're helping to celebrate love!" When I came upon them, I said, "I am too!"
Knitty and I met near the County Recorder's Building and took the elevator up to the "wedding room," which has several quilts designed on the theme of marriage and three pews. We sat in the anteroom with glitter-spinkled purple daisies and waited for something to happen. We absolutely didn't know what to expect, though neither of us were expecting just the two of us chatting quietly for about half an hour. Finally, a Clerk came in followed by a man and two women who appeared to be in their early 50's. Knitty figured out the man and which woman were the marrying couple; when they came out I offered the bride a daisy. She declined, saying the flower would die by the time they got back to Concord, but I think she may have just been terribly shy.
The second couple were a pair of young African Americans, along with about half a dozen parental types. The bride was wearing a short white dress perfect for today's heat and the groom was in a gold and black silk shirt that made him look like a million bucks. I offered the bride a daisy and she smiled and thanked me. The third couple, handsome South Asians or Middle Easterners in their mid-20s, were joined by three friends, one of whom was wearing a hijab. When they came out and I offered my congratulations, the groom took the flower and enthusiastically shook my hand.
So it wasn't exactly what we thought it would be. Knitty pointed out that maybe all the hoopla had happened here on Tuesday, or if it was still happening was happening in San Francisco. No and KT got married at SF's City Hall and it is a much jazzier place to tie the knot, it must be said. Still, I was happy with and for the people we saw in the 90 minutes we were there, even if they were all female/male couples. Because of Odyssey, and after returning from the Pacific Northwest, I am very appreciative of the diversity of cultures and races here.
Knitty told me that I was really brave for giving flowers and congratulations to strangers. I told her that I'm a dork. I'm just more willing than some to be a dork to strangers. Especially in the cause of love, hope, and community.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Best Laid Plans
My first year on the staff at Odyssey I was very close with one of the other staffers, Somwell. Somwell was large and gentle, always gave people his full attention, told the truth about how he was feeling (most of the time), and was basically magnetic. We were attracted to each other, and it felt, that week, as if we were attached at the hip in the few off hours that we had during camp. I remember one time when we sat so close that I felt his beard on my cheek while we were chatting with some other staffers.
Many of those hours of chatting happened late at night. The youth staff took over around 10pm, and the younger set of the adult staff would hang out in the lodge for a couple of hours afterwards. During training Somwell and I had hung out until the early hours of the morning, and during camp we did too. Camp was emotionally and physically draining, but it was hard for me to wind down at night, and I had never liked going to bed anyway.
We had a staff meeting every morning directly after breakfast. Halfway through the week, at the meeting I made an announcement asking people to encourage me to go to bed by midnight. Everyone agreed. That night, while shooting the breeze in the lodge, several people noted that it was creeping toward midnight and that I had asked them to tell me to go to bed. I agreed that I had, and I thanked them and headed out.
Sitting on the picnic table about ten yards from the lodge was Somwell. He was looking at the night sky, and it seems that I can remember he was looking at the moon or that he was looking at the stars. The place where camp was held was in a pretty rural area, so the sky would have been lit up either way. He called to me, and I walked over. I hadn't seen him as I had passed the table. He asked me where I was going "so early" and I explained that I had asked people to help me go to bed at a reasonable hour. He didn't remember that; it turned out that he had missed the staff meeting that morning. Of course if anyone was going to keep me up it would have been he, and we talked for at least an hour.
I got back to the bunk cabin I shared with some other staffers, crept in to get my toothbrush and paste, and went to the bathrooms to get ready for bed. As I walked away from the cabin, again I heard my name called, this time by one of my bunkmates. She had followed me out because she really wanted to talk about something that she felt she could only share with me. She'd heard me ask for support for my relatively early bedtime and had been waiting. That led to more conversation in the bathrooms after I was done brushing my teeth.
I remember this specifically: The clock by YaYaWOT's bunk read 2:20 when I climbed into my bed.
Many of those hours of chatting happened late at night. The youth staff took over around 10pm, and the younger set of the adult staff would hang out in the lodge for a couple of hours afterwards. During training Somwell and I had hung out until the early hours of the morning, and during camp we did too. Camp was emotionally and physically draining, but it was hard for me to wind down at night, and I had never liked going to bed anyway.
We had a staff meeting every morning directly after breakfast. Halfway through the week, at the meeting I made an announcement asking people to encourage me to go to bed by midnight. Everyone agreed. That night, while shooting the breeze in the lodge, several people noted that it was creeping toward midnight and that I had asked them to tell me to go to bed. I agreed that I had, and I thanked them and headed out.
Sitting on the picnic table about ten yards from the lodge was Somwell. He was looking at the night sky, and it seems that I can remember he was looking at the moon or that he was looking at the stars. The place where camp was held was in a pretty rural area, so the sky would have been lit up either way. He called to me, and I walked over. I hadn't seen him as I had passed the table. He asked me where I was going "so early" and I explained that I had asked people to help me go to bed at a reasonable hour. He didn't remember that; it turned out that he had missed the staff meeting that morning. Of course if anyone was going to keep me up it would have been he, and we talked for at least an hour.
I got back to the bunk cabin I shared with some other staffers, crept in to get my toothbrush and paste, and went to the bathrooms to get ready for bed. As I walked away from the cabin, again I heard my name called, this time by one of my bunkmates. She had followed me out because she really wanted to talk about something that she felt she could only share with me. She'd heard me ask for support for my relatively early bedtime and had been waiting. That led to more conversation in the bathrooms after I was done brushing my teeth.
I remember this specifically: The clock by YaYaWOT's bunk read 2:20 when I climbed into my bed.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Intent Versus Impact
I sent an email to a friend in which I mentioned that I made this resolution to write every day this year. I explained that I decided to do it on Blogger because it would be a good place to store the work and that this way I would be kept "honest" about doing it if there was even the illusion of an audience. I said that one of my friends keeps in touch with my goings-on by following the blog, because we don't talk that often, and this is why I mentioned it to her, because the friend I wrote to yesterday and I aren't in a lot of touch.
I know that people don't always mean to say what I hear, especially over email. I worked with a guy at Odyssey who talked a lot about "intent vs. impact," saying that when he says something his intention may be different than what the impact is on the person he is talking to. He also said that he isn't responsible for the impact, if his intentions are good (and at Odyssey, we liked to think that all our intentions were good). So when someone says something that hurts my feelings, and it's not obvious that that is what they were trying to do, I examine what's going on inside me that caused the impact to be negative. I think that it's possible that I misunderstood or am having a visceral reaction, not that the intention was to hurt my feelings. Especially when the other person says so upfront.
I received an email back and I don't want to post tonight:
At the moment I feel pretty stupid and I'm feeling pretty crappy about this project.
I know that people don't always mean to say what I hear, especially over email. I worked with a guy at Odyssey who talked a lot about "intent vs. impact," saying that when he says something his intention may be different than what the impact is on the person he is talking to. He also said that he isn't responsible for the impact, if his intentions are good (and at Odyssey, we liked to think that all our intentions were good). So when someone says something that hurts my feelings, and it's not obvious that that is what they were trying to do, I examine what's going on inside me that caused the impact to be negative. I think that it's possible that I misunderstood or am having a visceral reaction, not that the intention was to hurt my feelings. Especially when the other person says so upfront.
I received an email back and I don't want to post tonight:
Did you ever write a diary? Ever read them years later? Mine were full of junk, over and over again. Most of us give far too much weight and importance to what we think.
Don't mean to be rude. Maybe you can tell me more about why you think blogs are valuable.
At the moment I feel pretty stupid and I'm feeling pretty crappy about this project.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Clay Feet
When I was involved with Camp Odyssey I started working with the people who designed the curriculum and the program. I really thought that they embodied the values of the program. In fact, it was D who came up with the thing about staying in the boat, and T who encouraged everyone to close loops. M always seemed to bring a soft consciousness to the hard parts. Because J was so tall, I felt like he was able to see what was going on everywhere in the big meetings, and would step in if something was going haywire.
Then in the summer of 1997 we had the Camp From Hell, when it seemed like everything that could go wrong did. Because Camp was so intense, even small things going wrong felt much bigger. I had participants bolt out of meetings and people not talking to each other by the end of the week, and that kind of thing was happening in other meetings too. At the time I blamed a lot of what went wrong on one person, who happened to be someone with whom I had had a lot of personal conflicts and didn't like very much.
It didn't occur to me that maybe those people who were the Curriculum Committee had anything to do with the craziness. I now remember that, in a place where structure was the highest priority, they were deleting some things and reducing the time allowed for others while Camp was running. At the time, that seemed like the last thing that group of people would do, which is probably why I couldn't see it was they who were making those changes to the curriculum. It's so clear now, but that's partly because YaYaWOT, who was there, reminded me of some things that happened after Camp ended that summer, things that are reflected in my journal from that period.
I've recently come to see that these people were flawed like we all are. If I cared about any of it now with anything like the emotion I felt then, I would be angry at them for not being much like how I imagined. When I asked for help then and didn't get it I thought it was because they were too busy to help, but now I think it may have been because they were too overwhelmed themselves. It was so long ago that I don't now remember if I was disappointed in them then. I suspect that I thought that they would fix everything, because they could do what was best for Camp. They were giants to me.
I didn't go to Odyssey the next year, a long story sort of related to this post. I don't know what happened in '98 but the program as I had known it ended that summer or in 1999. YaYaWOT says that partly happened because some people chose to honor a personal relationship over Odyssey ideals. It's too bad Odyssey was the casualty, because I thought then and think now that it was a powerful transformative experience and could have had a huge impact on our communities. Choosing friendship isn't a bad thing for humans to do.
Then in the summer of 1997 we had the Camp From Hell, when it seemed like everything that could go wrong did. Because Camp was so intense, even small things going wrong felt much bigger. I had participants bolt out of meetings and people not talking to each other by the end of the week, and that kind of thing was happening in other meetings too. At the time I blamed a lot of what went wrong on one person, who happened to be someone with whom I had had a lot of personal conflicts and didn't like very much.
It didn't occur to me that maybe those people who were the Curriculum Committee had anything to do with the craziness. I now remember that, in a place where structure was the highest priority, they were deleting some things and reducing the time allowed for others while Camp was running. At the time, that seemed like the last thing that group of people would do, which is probably why I couldn't see it was they who were making those changes to the curriculum. It's so clear now, but that's partly because YaYaWOT, who was there, reminded me of some things that happened after Camp ended that summer, things that are reflected in my journal from that period.
I've recently come to see that these people were flawed like we all are. If I cared about any of it now with anything like the emotion I felt then, I would be angry at them for not being much like how I imagined. When I asked for help then and didn't get it I thought it was because they were too busy to help, but now I think it may have been because they were too overwhelmed themselves. It was so long ago that I don't now remember if I was disappointed in them then. I suspect that I thought that they would fix everything, because they could do what was best for Camp. They were giants to me.
I didn't go to Odyssey the next year, a long story sort of related to this post. I don't know what happened in '98 but the program as I had known it ended that summer or in 1999. YaYaWOT says that partly happened because some people chose to honor a personal relationship over Odyssey ideals. It's too bad Odyssey was the casualty, because I thought then and think now that it was a powerful transformative experience and could have had a huge impact on our communities. Choosing friendship isn't a bad thing for humans to do.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
What was Odyssey?
Recently I've been thinking a lot about my Camp Odyssey experience, which was transformative at the same time that it was difficult. Without comparing Odyssey to Peoples Temple, seeing that movie about Jonestown and reading Raven (which I got from the library) has me thinking about my own experience with "trying to change the world."
Camp Odyssey was an immersion diversity training for youth and adults. When I was on staff, I (and others, obviously) worked with youth entering 10th through 12th grades and examined all the "isms" - racism, sexism, heterosexism, prejudice against immigrants, ageism, and even touched on classism (when I moved back to California we were thinking about working more class issues into the curriculum). Everyone who attended was split into ethnic groups according to their identification, into gender groups, and into sharing circles which were carefully balanced for ethnic identity and gender. Each group would meet with each other group to talk about stereotypes and then the sharing circles would meet to process the experiences of the day. It is very difficult to explain, and it was really really intense.
One of the things I believed was that Odyssey was led by some amazing, fabulous, dedicated people who saw things clearly. I also felt like a lot of the "regular" staff people were pretty amazing as well - Odyssey consisted of two demanding weekends and one really demanding week each year and we all worked very hard during those times. Ironically, the person who was the Camp Director was not someone I believed was any of those things. He and I didn't like each other, and I thought it was because I was in the not-straight group and the only strongly-identified bi person in Camp for the time I was involved, which was about two years, I knew it, and he knew that I knew it. Also, I have a memory of heated disagreements between us, including at Advisory Council meetings when I was in the leadership circle.
I don't know where the curriculum came from, though some of it came from other diversity programs and some of it grew out of the work that had been going on. When I got involved in 1996 Odyssey had been around for about three years (it only lasted maybe two years after I left). There were several two or three day adult trainings a year, but Odyssey was really focused on the Camp for youth which lasted for one week in late June. After Camp in 1997 I "forgot" to turn in my script/agenda/curriculum and while I haven't looked at it in years I haven't been ready to shred it.
Hard as it was, I loved Odyssey. I thought the things we did were important and there are lessons I carry to this day. I wonder what the people who were 14 to 18 years old at the time think now of that experience (some of them are as old now as I was then). We had some guidelines that were posted on a banner in the main hall, and I have found them pretty good guidelines to live by, some of which I see now are woven together for me:
Be honest
Take risks - a hard one for me, being naturally risk-averse.
Respect others
Close the loop - it's not always easy to follow up when I think I've offended someone or when someone has offended me, but working it out means I don't have to fret about it anymore.
Take responsibility for Self - this ranges from going when I need to go to the bathroom to being responsible for doing something stupid or hurtful.
Use "I" statements - I joke that my favorite "I" statement is "I feel you are a jerk" but I've noticed I get heard more easily if I really do say "I feel X when Y" and "It's been my experience that..."
There's more to write about Odyssey but not today. Odyssey was hugely important part of my growing up, even though I was 27 when I got involved. I don't think I would be the person I am today if I hadn't had that experience.
Camp Odyssey was an immersion diversity training for youth and adults. When I was on staff, I (and others, obviously) worked with youth entering 10th through 12th grades and examined all the "isms" - racism, sexism, heterosexism, prejudice against immigrants, ageism, and even touched on classism (when I moved back to California we were thinking about working more class issues into the curriculum). Everyone who attended was split into ethnic groups according to their identification, into gender groups, and into sharing circles which were carefully balanced for ethnic identity and gender. Each group would meet with each other group to talk about stereotypes and then the sharing circles would meet to process the experiences of the day. It is very difficult to explain, and it was really really intense.
One of the things I believed was that Odyssey was led by some amazing, fabulous, dedicated people who saw things clearly. I also felt like a lot of the "regular" staff people were pretty amazing as well - Odyssey consisted of two demanding weekends and one really demanding week each year and we all worked very hard during those times. Ironically, the person who was the Camp Director was not someone I believed was any of those things. He and I didn't like each other, and I thought it was because I was in the not-straight group and the only strongly-identified bi person in Camp for the time I was involved, which was about two years, I knew it, and he knew that I knew it. Also, I have a memory of heated disagreements between us, including at Advisory Council meetings when I was in the leadership circle.
I don't know where the curriculum came from, though some of it came from other diversity programs and some of it grew out of the work that had been going on. When I got involved in 1996 Odyssey had been around for about three years (it only lasted maybe two years after I left). There were several two or three day adult trainings a year, but Odyssey was really focused on the Camp for youth which lasted for one week in late June. After Camp in 1997 I "forgot" to turn in my script/agenda/curriculum and while I haven't looked at it in years I haven't been ready to shred it.
Hard as it was, I loved Odyssey. I thought the things we did were important and there are lessons I carry to this day. I wonder what the people who were 14 to 18 years old at the time think now of that experience (some of them are as old now as I was then). We had some guidelines that were posted on a banner in the main hall, and I have found them pretty good guidelines to live by, some of which I see now are woven together for me:
Be honest
Take risks - a hard one for me, being naturally risk-averse.
Respect others
Close the loop - it's not always easy to follow up when I think I've offended someone or when someone has offended me, but working it out means I don't have to fret about it anymore.
Take responsibility for Self - this ranges from going when I need to go to the bathroom to being responsible for doing something stupid or hurtful.
Use "I" statements - I joke that my favorite "I" statement is "I feel you are a jerk" but I've noticed I get heard more easily if I really do say "I feel X when Y" and "It's been my experience that..."
There's more to write about Odyssey but not today. Odyssey was hugely important part of my growing up, even though I was 27 when I got involved. I don't think I would be the person I am today if I hadn't had that experience.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Structure
In the fall of 1999, when I had just started in financial aid at the California Institute of Integral Studies, my boss and I were trying to catch up on work that hadn't been done because there had been no one in the FAO for two months. The floor was covered in piles of student files about ten high. I mean covered - Cathy and I had to hop to get to the file cabinets that were behind our desks (it should be noted that Cathy, myself, ten filing cabinets, a bookshelf, two chairs, our desks and chairs, and a cabinet were crammed into a space about 10'x12').
A student came in, one who had worked for me at the Front Desk, to consult with Cathy. Cathy asked if I knew where her file was, because obviously it wasn't in the filing cabinet. I pointed to a couple of the piles near the corner of my desk, saying, "It's in one of these two." Indeed, the file was in the first pile to which I had pointed. The student remarked, "You must be a Virgo."
(That's the kind of thing you would hear in the hallways of CIIS). Later she ran my chart (without my asking) and we discovered that not only am I a Virgo but almost half my planets are in Virgo, making me, I guess, a pretty intense Virgo.
Virgos, it turns out, like structure, but don't care too much about organization. That is to say, we like to - and often do - know where everything is, but we're not particularly attached to
where exactly that is. For example, I try and try to alphabetize things, like CDs or spices, and I just can't keep them that way. But I will remember generally where in the drawer the rosemary is, even if I haven't used it in awhile.
I've been involved in a couple events where the structure kept things from falling apart - where taking turns to speak prevented a shouting match, where people were allowed to finish a thought without interruption, and where everyone got heard. I've noticed that having a structure gives something for people to invest in when emotions are running high, and in the situations I've been in it's kept people in them, resolving to work through whatever the issue was.
I've also been witness to what happens when the structure breaks down, and have seen people run out of meetings. I knew the structure was broken, but by the time people were running out it was too late to fix.
Personally, I like structure, maybe because I'm a Virgo, maybe because I just like to know what is going to happen. When the structure is wobbly, and is about to fall on our heads, I get really uncomfortable and fidget and stare at the leader of the group, willing that person to pull us back together. There have been a few times when I've considered running out, but I haven't, because I think maybe I can help to somehow get the discussion or agenda back on track.
When I was in Camp Odyssey, one of our leaders likened the Camp to a boat on the sea. He said that if the boat were to start to fall apart, people would dive overboard - but people diving overboard was what would cause the boat to sink. So we all had to stay in the boat, and encourage others to stay in the boat, so we could keep sailing to our destination.
A student came in, one who had worked for me at the Front Desk, to consult with Cathy. Cathy asked if I knew where her file was, because obviously it wasn't in the filing cabinet. I pointed to a couple of the piles near the corner of my desk, saying, "It's in one of these two." Indeed, the file was in the first pile to which I had pointed. The student remarked, "You must be a Virgo."
(That's the kind of thing you would hear in the hallways of CIIS). Later she ran my chart (without my asking) and we discovered that not only am I a Virgo but almost half my planets are in Virgo, making me, I guess, a pretty intense Virgo.
Virgos, it turns out, like structure, but don't care too much about organization. That is to say, we like to - and often do - know where everything is, but we're not particularly attached to
where exactly that is. For example, I try and try to alphabetize things, like CDs or spices, and I just can't keep them that way. But I will remember generally where in the drawer the rosemary is, even if I haven't used it in awhile.
I've been involved in a couple events where the structure kept things from falling apart - where taking turns to speak prevented a shouting match, where people were allowed to finish a thought without interruption, and where everyone got heard. I've noticed that having a structure gives something for people to invest in when emotions are running high, and in the situations I've been in it's kept people in them, resolving to work through whatever the issue was.
I've also been witness to what happens when the structure breaks down, and have seen people run out of meetings. I knew the structure was broken, but by the time people were running out it was too late to fix.
Personally, I like structure, maybe because I'm a Virgo, maybe because I just like to know what is going to happen. When the structure is wobbly, and is about to fall on our heads, I get really uncomfortable and fidget and stare at the leader of the group, willing that person to pull us back together. There have been a few times when I've considered running out, but I haven't, because I think maybe I can help to somehow get the discussion or agenda back on track.
When I was in Camp Odyssey, one of our leaders likened the Camp to a boat on the sea. He said that if the boat were to start to fall apart, people would dive overboard - but people diving overboard was what would cause the boat to sink. So we all had to stay in the boat, and encourage others to stay in the boat, so we could keep sailing to our destination.
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