What’s Cooking? Sadly, Not Professional Lady Chefs

Honey, what's for dinner?

Like most men, I don’t cook a lick. That is, unless I decide to. Then all of a sudden I’m Top Chef. Sound familiar? It's funny how that works; men get a pass on having to cook. Or rather we give ourselves a pass by declaring we won't do it. Some of us add insult to injury by tacking on that preparing food is women’s work. Or that we can’t do it because we work all day at the office or factory. For the record, I’m personally not that much of a caveman. Nevertheless, I do have an ever-growing distaste for all of this opting out at home and here's why.

              When it comes to doing what we want and when we want, men stand at the top of the heap. No brag, just fact. In general, we get to dictate how things go or won't go. What we will and won't do. Case in point, cooking. It’s something most men simply refuse to do. Unless…

              What happens when you dispense generous portions of money and power into the mixing bowl? All of the sudden, real men cook. In the blink of an eye we know best, cook best and are the supreme chefs on the planet. What a crock(pot) of hogwash.

              Another fact: according to a 2010 report, women comprise just 10 percent of the executive chef positions in America and earn on average 17 percent less than their male counterparts doing the same job. Why is that? Power and privilege. And that other dreaded p-word: patriarchy.

Old boy's network is in full effect

              Even when money isn’t on the menu – like at a backyard barbeque or ballgame tailgate, who’s usually on the grill? A man. Why? Yet another p-word: Prestige. The grill is often the center of attention and you get to handle oversized tongs. Plus an open flame is involved. Ooo…, the danger.

              But it's no laughing matter how women get the short end of the stick with great regularity when it comes to culinary work, be it at home or in the workplace. In large part, men get to decide if and when we want to participate. If it’s at home and nobody’s looking, forget it. If there's power and prestige involved, suddenly there’s no one better for the job than a man.

              I'd venture to say it's like that with most vocational endeavors. I realize I'm discussing things women already know and understand. It's just that it’s important we serve this up and on the table for everyone to taste. I say that because there are some men out there who truly believe that they can't cook. Or that cooking (and cleaning) is only a woman's job. Again, unless there's money in it.

Chef Kimberly: a rare exception

              Some argue cooking is an historically traditional role for women, and that if it’s worked up until now, why change? But I’d counter with another question: worked for who? Another question: why when you introduce money and power into the equation, does all that tradition fly out the window and suddenly men are the only ones who are qualified to run a kitchen?

              Sure, you've got Rachael Ray, Paula Deen and other women who have wildly popular TV cooking shows. And yes they make a lot of money. But neither has run a restaurant kitchen. That’s not a slam but rather another serious sobering fact.

              This disparity has to change; not just among professional chefs but across all sectors where women are systematically excluded from top jobs. A double standard exists and the time has long since come for it to stop.

              Equality. It’s what’s for dinner.

Learn to Listen With More Than Your Ears

We all have untapped brain power

Ever find yourself in a sort a mental zone where things are amazingly clear? It’s that gray matter sweet spot in which you have so much clarity about a thing it’s almost scary how much insight you have. If I’m lucky, I get to experience that rare state of being a few times a year and here’s how I do it.

It's taken a long time for me to figure out certain things in life. One of them was how limiting it can be to use just one or two of my senses to understand the world around me. I’m referring to matters such as life lessons, the true nature of things, and what people are really up to behind your back. For way too long I relied way too much on what my eyes saw and ears heard only. I hardly ever considered other senses could also help me. And I don’t just mean taste, touch and smell. I’m talking extrasensory perception. ESP.

This isn’t about sorcery or Jedi mind tricks. When a particular mental state is achieved and really working, my whole body becomes a sensory organ. It helps me make sense of things (and people) in ways I didn’t used to think were possible. Maybe a better way to describe this is simply ‘listening to one’s self.’ Some call it intuition. Others place it in the category of just paying close attention. However you phrase it, on those rare occasions when it all comes together, I feel unstoppable.

I'm not talking Jedi mind tricks

A key component to achieving this state of being is getting quiet. That is, bringing your body into a level of calm that allows your entire self to tune in on what’s happening around you. When I get that way, I just don’t see things and hear them; I feel them. It’s experiential. At the same time, the biggest barrier to my ability to tune in to that sense has been my own impatience.

Over the years, I’ve grown to understand what patience means and what it can do for me, which has better enabled me to practice it. Even still, it's taken a lifetime to get this far and I still don’t have it down. Perhaps a trip to a Himalayan mountaintop on a llama is in order.

Now I consider myself to be slower than most people. That is to say, it takes me several tries at doing something the wrong way before I finally get it right. This is especially true when it comes to listening to my own body.

When I do listen to it, my body tells me what it needs. Water, food, rest, a workout – you name it. If I don't listen there's eventually a reckoning. For example, over the weeks spanning Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year’s, I’ve learned that in order to survive the season without falling ill, I have to eat and drink in moderation. Easier said than done. I also need adequate sleep. Darn near impossible. However, if I don't pay attention to my body and what it’s saying, I’m usually good for a winter cold at best; or the flu at worst. And it can be one heck of a price to pay when you’re a working person.

I imagine most folks out there regard what I'm spouting as either common sense or nonsense. In some respect, I can appreciate both views. In any case I’ve learned over the years to listen more and more to my instincts. In my experience I’ve learned it is something people ignore at their own risk. As for me, like I said, I've learned it all the hard way.

Giant Step Forward on Gay Rights Issues

Jason Collins: out of the closet, still on the NBA floor

The national news that has tongues wagging concerns professional basketball player Jason Collins. According to reports, the 34-year-old NBA center is the first active male athlete in the four major American sports leagues to come out publicly and state he’s gay. The fact that he’s the first to do so is groundbreaking.

              Collins received a call from former president Bill Clinton, the support of current NBA Commissioner David Stern, and is contemplating a future on-air appearance with Oprah. His bold move is producing ripples of awareness concerning the human rights of folks in the lesbian, gay, bisexual & transgender (LGBT) community. At the same time, this news has implications that extend beyond one gay professional athlete.

              There’s another story. The one closer to home. It’s about normal, ordinary people in the community who are compelled to hide their full selves and therefore live outside the margins of Main Street. They are forced to hide all that they are, not because of what they do in public but rather what happens in the privacy of their homes, which should be nobody else’s business in the first place.

              Growing up, I remember the younger brother of one of my close neighbor friends. He was full of life and energy and was an incredible creative talent. He’d shoot baskets with us in the driveway and hang out sometimes in the basement when we were playing ping pong or pool. But what he excelled at was tennis. He also enjoyed the arts: especially photography, acting and performing.

Collins: ordinary person, extraordinary deed

              That he was gay wasn’t an issue. Truth is, he never directly told me his sexual orientation. But why would he? I didn’t tell him mine. Besides, what difference does that make when you’re shooting a layup?

              For me back then, what ‘being gay’ meant wasn’t really even on my radar. I guess I held a vague understanding. But it was more in the vein of guys not going with gals rather than guys preferring guys. I’m told my friend’s younger brother left our community many years ago for a place where he could more fully (and openly) embrace his true self.

              What I should have appreciated more when he was here was just how much not having his talents here diminished the quality of our overall community. It makes me wonder how many other folks have left or remain hidden because of intolerance, discrimination or worse.

              For those who choose to stay, many go to great lengths to conceal their complete selves, and who could blame them? I imagine it takes an enormous amount of energy to guard such a big secret as hiding who it is you love, not to mention the suffering caused by being robbed of their American right to the pursuit of happiness.

              The lesson in all this has been learned time and again by the way we have historically treated people who are different. Yet it also continues to be forgotten and bears repeating: without fierce vigilance, American civil liberties can slip away quickly. If we’re not watchful as a nation, the inequities of such doctrines as Plessy v. Ferguson – that fateful Supreme Court decision that made the phrase “separate but equal” famous – will always be waiting to rear its ugly head from the shadows of prejudice and intolerance.

              It’s hard for me to understand why so many people of so-called good will discriminate against an entire group of people just because they want to love another consenting adult. But the tide is rising toward change and so are attitudes. The message Jason Collins issued by stepping out makes him taller than his seven foot stature. Time for America to stand with him.

Race Remains at the Core of America's Woes

Time to end racial injustice

Race. It’s a four-letter word that can cause reasonable people to conjure unreasonable thoughts and actions. Or inaction. More and more I’m realizing race is at the root of so many of the economic and social woes we suffer – in this community, across the state, and around the country. Here’s one big reason.

I’m one of the millions from my generation raised on a steady diet of sitcoms and Disney. Programs displayed idyllic ways of living. Through it all was the flavor of the day: vanilla. Still is. The problem though is that I am chocolate. African American. What does TV (and for that matter film and even grade school text books) have to do with race problems in America? They are all forms of mass media that speak to familiarity.

Being familiar with something, seeing it over and over, contributes to how a person views their world in a major way. How we come to see (or not see) things is a function of the images and experiences known to us. Along these lines, we all come from a place of what’s becoming known as ‘implicit bias.’ That is, attitudes or stereotypes that affect our understanding, actions and decisions in an unconscious way.

Like driving past trees on the road, people of color can melt into the background, becoming essentially invisible to white people. But the reverse isn’t true for people of color. White people can choose not to see. People of color see whites everywhere, even in the privacy of our homes (think TV, newspapers, magazines, etc.).

When I was growing up in the ‘60s, there were few African Americans in print or on television. When we were, we were mainly placeholders; positioned to literally provide color to the sea of white faces. When we weren’t in the background, we served as plot points to drive a white character’s story. Portrayals were unbalanced at best and derogatory at worst. We were largely depicted as down and out, soaked in liquor, drugs. Pimping or hooking was a common backdrop. We were hard luck cases that needed saving from one great white hope or another. Or we were the loyal servant maid, butler, gardener, or cook.

That’s the lens white people largely viewed people of color through... over and over again, episode after episode, year after year.

It’s those unflattering images that people of color were, and often continue to be, inaccurately portrayed and unconsciously embedded into America’s collective psyche, thank you very much. But this isn’t about calling out media villains or exposing closet Klansmen. Instead, it’s about coming to terms with the implicit bias that permeates society.

The majority of people on all sides of the color spectrum consider matters of race and racism as they would a rotten apple. To get at its core, America would have to eat a lot of crow and that’s hard to chew on. So we don’t take a bite.

Much of the institutional racism that exists was written right into America’s founding documents, perpetuated through intentional governmental policies (ex., slavery, Jim Crow), capitalism-gone-wild discrimination practices, with court rulings time and again upholding it all. And the band played on.

Why would anyone want to sink their teeth into something as putrefied and disgusting as the age old topic of race? Instead of looking at race as a rotten apple, look at it more like an onion. It’s cocooned by layers upon layers of truth and fiction, joy and pain, and pride and guilt. We may not be responsible for the insidious and often invisible systems still in place but we’re all are accountable.

Disabled People are Whole Human Beings

Able. Nuff said...

What was it Ronald Reagan said in that 1980 presidential election debate when his opponent brought up old accusations? “There you go again.”

That now famous line is glaringly appropriate as I reflect on an educational series I recently began participating in. That two-day conversation of sharing and learning focused on issues related to persons with disabilities and oppressive practices known as “ableism.”

My understanding of ableism is that it’s a form discrimination, intentional or not, directed toward persons with mental and/or physical disabilities. Attending that training was, at least in my mind, more a refresher course in overall intolerance and acceptance than a space where I’d learn anything new. Boy was I ever wrong.

As I waited for the session to start, I confidently recalled countless other trainings, seminars and learning labs I’ve attended, each designed to up my IQ on topics ranging from racism and poverty to sexism and LGBT issues. And each time I completed a training, I felt adequately prepared for whatever would come up at the next round of work. (I can just hear my social justice allies muttering, “There you go again.”)

From the beginning I felt out of my league. This was going to be about more than wheelchair access and impolite stares. Nearly half the people in the room had a disability. That got me thinking about how our ‘abled’ society has done a superb (I use the term with disdain) job warehousing, marginalizing and just plain ignoring disabled persons, rendering them for all intents and purposes invisible.

The group brought up issues almost immediately that let me know just how superficial my understanding was about this important human rights issue. Early in the session, a bearded guy with cerebral palsy shared his experiences as a disabled person. He unnerved me as he spoke and here's why.

I've been around persons with cerebral palsy before and was familiar with its effects on the human body. What rattled me was the fact that as I listened to him speak; it took an incredible amount of effort for him to communicate – at least from my perspective. As he slowly but surely expressed his thoughts to the room, I found myself lost in a self-centered fog over just how much privilege I have. I am able to communicate with people without even thinking about it.

I make my living as a communicator; writing and speaking is what I do. As I sat there I thought, what if I was in his shoes? For a time I tumbled down a bottomless pit of self pity, racked with shame and guilt. Why? Because it was hitting me in the face none too subtly that all of my life I had taken for granted my ability to do things that for others might be an incredible challenge.

Me – with all my racism training and reading about sexism and working with organizations focused on poverty and studying about gay rights – possessing near ignorance about what it truly means to be disabled in American society. There I go again.

Fortunately, with the help of the bearded guy and others, their sharing, along with mine, I climbed my way out of that dark emotional hole. I’m still a work in progress, but have an emerging insight into the disabled community and its rich, complex reality. I also have acquired a great deal more understanding about the insidious nature of ableism. One thing I know for certain is there’s a lot I still don’t know but look forward to learning. I plan to get that knowledge through books, the educational series I’m participating in, and meaningful conversations.

Bring on the Backyard Barbecues

Yabba dabba barbecue!

We’re still a month away but I’ve got summer fever. And with warmer weather comes barbecues. Beginning in late May and extending through early September (longer in more temperate regions), almost everyone hosts or attends a barbecue. Granted, some are more fun than others or offer more variety in their activities, but your typical, apolitically oriented cookout generally consists of family, friends and close coworkers.

               It’s typically held on someone’s backyard deck, but often can be found in such exotic places as a city park or crowded beach. Holidays are the best times to throw barbecues. Ordinary weekends also work, but for the proper festive mood, there’s nothing like grilling on Independence Day, Labor Day and Memorial Day. Since it’s ingrained in the American mind that barbecues should be held on these occasions, you’re virtually guaranteed a decent turnout on these days.

               Why are barbecues held in the first place? Barbecues have always been interesting social occasions filled with food that many times tastes good, conversations of varying qualities and activities that are often competitive in nature (think touch football, dominoes or bid whist). Since I tend to be a bit on the analytical side, cookouts to me are more than just another get-together. I don’t accept the participant simple claim, “I just wanna have a good time.”

Let's get fired up!

               A closer look at the interactions at the barbecue reveals clues as to their real purpose for people attending. It is a time when modern human beings can reach back mentally and to some degree, physically, to relive their ancestral existence. To me, this link is vital for humanity, which has achieved much technology, but emotionally is still attached to the time just after dinosaurs ruled the Earth and people’s last names really were Flintstone and Rubble.

               Since the dawn of civilization, we humans have used the campfire as a focal point in our existence.  As we have progressed (well, some believe we’ve progressed), the open campfire was replaced by an in-door fireplace, which in turn became a vacuum-tube radio and has since evolved into present day HDTVs. The similarities among these tools are glaringly apparent: they all provide a measure of light and therefore, safety. Plus they are social centers where food is consumed and stories are told. Except in most cases these days, the stories are delivered to our homes on a screen, rather than we telling our own among ourselves. But that’s another column.

Finger lickin' good (but without the chicken)

               Of course, there were different dynamics in play when the open campfire was the centerpiece.  That is exactly why civilization continues to be drawn back to its roots each spring. Now I admit that long conclusions may be drawn between prehistoric lifestyle and modern-day barbecues, but let’s examine the validity of my claim “scientifically.” Take for example the central focus of all cookouts: the meat.

               Now unless you’re attending a barbecue held by members of the Holistic Vegetarian Council, you will have meat on hand – and in abundance. Eons ago, our Cro-Magnon forbearers tangled with saber-tooth tigers and big woolly mammoths to bring home the bacon for the family (usually consisting of several clans). A modern barbecue differs only in how we obtain the meat. But the focus is the same: the meat.

               This process of reverting (in a civilized manner) to prehistoric ties is refreshing, cleanses the soul and satisfies the typical urban man and woman who constantly requires prospective to maintain a balanced life. I find the psychological effect of a barbecue is healthy, the social interaction positive and the nutritional value acceptable. And besides, I just wanna have a good time.

Change is Often for the Better

Now, where did I lay that winning Lotto ticket?

Here’s a riddle: what do you get when you pile your mail in the same spot every day for three months straight? My bedroom dresser.

This disorganized approach to sorting, or rather not sorting, mail is unsightly and contributes to my life in quite unproductive ways. Yet I stubbornly (some might say lazily) cling to my inefficient system of mail management. I refuse to change. That is, until I miss paying a bill or something equally traumatic. Then a miraculous thing happens: I change.

What is it about the process of change that makes it hard for a good many people to do so, even when they know it’s in their best interest? From simple acts like sorting the mail to more complex endeavors such as thinking differently about people once you learn the truth about them, change can be vexing.

Change is hard, from the youngest baby to the oldest adult. That notion seems odd in and of itself, yet it is the case so often. Then again, it's probably the most natural thing in the world. It can be unsettling to experience new ways of thinking and being when young, especially when the prospect of failure is present. At the same time, if you're really familiar with something and in the habit of doing it a certain way, it becomes comfortable and predictable. In both cases, change introduces a whole set of unknowns.

But resistance to change can have consequences. I experience this fact somewhat often, despite myself. And it can be counterproductive.

For instance, a few years ago I co-led a summer youth camp. Early on, I observed certain students in certain ways. I considered some troublemakers. I viewed others as cooperative. My resistance to change came when the students I had confidently placed into behavior ‘categories’ flipped the script on me and started behaving in ways counter to what I had initially observed. They had changed. However, I found myself slow to change my own attitude about their attitudes. In other words, I mistakenly took it for granted that the students would never change, despite the evidence in front of my eyes. As a result, my inability to follow their change with my own hindered everyone’s capacity for learning – theirs as students and mine as a budding instructor.

Much better - except I can't find anything

If we’re not careful, we all have the capacity to live our lives as if nothing is changing. But it is. How we face that change says a lot about ourselves. It can be hard and it takes courage. Particularly when it comes to the way we regard people different from us. So many times our reluctance to changing the way we look at something comes into play as a result of our often irrational fear of ‘losing something’ if the change takes place. We can allow our egos to get in the way of moving in more constructive or positive directions. For me at that youth camp, my fear was losing control of the class. But the control I thought I had by holding fast to misguided beliefs was just an illusion.

On reflection, the ability to change and adapt is one of the greatest gifts we possess as human beings. Without change, so many of us are doomed to a limited form of existence. In so many cases, trying to live without changing is stifling. But with it, the sky's the limit. Now if only I can only find that bill I need to pay; it used to be on my bedroom dresser.