Etiquette and Role Definitions
Mar. 23rd, 2021 09:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraLois Lane wished me Happy New Year in January.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” I responded. “And wondering how it was that we stopped talking.”
There ensued three months of Radio Silence.
Interrupted yesterday when I picked up the phone only to hear Lois Lane’s voice: “Hey, we stopped talking because I am an emotional cripple who doesn’t want to leave the house and can’t maintain relationships much.”
She does make me laugh!
She called because she wanted my help with a client—woman from Jamaica, just left her abusive husband to go live at Grace Smith (local battered woman’s refuge), three-year-old son, no money. Is client eligible for the third stimulus check?
“That depends,” I said. “Does she have a social security number?”
“I don’t think so,” said Lois Lane. “But her son was born here—”
“Which means he’s eligible for a social security card. Which would make him eligible for the third stimulus check. More importantly, it would make him eligible for something called the Child Tax Credit, which Biden is setting up something like a universal basic income, to be disbursed monthly. But, of course, your client must have a social worker at Grace Smith who’s on top of all this—”
Lois Lane didn’t know.
“Well, my dear, I think you have to assume that she does. It’s the nature of battered women’s refuges,” I said kindly.
“I can’t get any information out of them,” she said.
“Of course not,” I said. “They would be committed to maintaining client confidentiality.”
“She’s just so shell-shocked,” Lois Lane said. “Right now, she is dealing with these debilitating headaches, the result of being punched in the head (literally) for years—”
“Ummmmm,” I said. “Well, you know, your role is as this woman’s literacy tutor. That’s a pretty defined role. I’m not sure what the overlap with helping her get her stimulus check may be there.”
“Fourteen hundred dollars could get her new bras and new shoes, both of which she needs—”
“Ri-i-ight,” I said. “Still, as I say, off the top of my head, I don’t see the overlap. You could create one, I suppose, by figuring out some pretext that would make it necessary for you to talk to her social worker—sorry, I don’t have a clue what that pretext might be—”
“She’s not easy to understand,” Lois Lane said. “She’s not easy to deal with at all. Somebody has her passport. I got no angle. I just want to see her succeed and flourish in this new world she’s found herself in, you know?”
“Well, I’d be happy to take a stab at her taxes if it comes to that,” I said. “But I think that invitation has to come through Grace Smith.”
And that’s where I left it.
I am very fond of Lois Lane. We speak the same language—which is a very rare thing for me; I am constantly having to translate the things in my head into Other-People-ese, and I’ve never had to do that with her.
But I’ve given up on any idea that I can maintain any kind of a friendship with her.
###
What else?
I was busy, busy, busy yesterday, but I did slip out in the afternoon for a six-mile tromp:
One intriguing thing about this time of year when it’s warm enough to be outside, but the trees are still six weeks away from leaving is that you can see all those abandoned old houses in the middle of the forest:
In the evening, we did Family Zoom where the conversation came round to the Millennial fixation on gender pronouns.
“My gender is male,” Ichabod explained helpfully. “My pronouns are ‘he’ and ‘they.’ But that doesn’t say anything about my sexual preferences.”
I rolled my eyes.
Ichabod said something sharp.
“No, you’re the one who doesn’t get it,” I replied. “So far as I can see, everyone is pansexual, capable of enormous numbers of gender roles. Defining yourself is limiting yourself, putting yourself in a box. You think that’s radical! I think you’re being played. All categories are marketing categories, so you’re just making it very easy to sell you a particular menu of consumer goods, political attitudes, and entertainment choices. Those consumer goods, political attitudes, and entertainment choices? They’re your identity!
"I don’t understand why people have such a hard time understanding that. What kind of liberation is it to make it easy for other people to put you in a box? Like Walt Whitman said, I contain multitudes—”
“So, you won’t use a person’s preferred gender pronouns?”
“Well, of course, I will. I call people whatever they like to be called. That’s just etiquette.”
He opened his mouth and shut it again.
But five minutes later, we kissed and made up.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” I responded. “And wondering how it was that we stopped talking.”
There ensued three months of Radio Silence.
Interrupted yesterday when I picked up the phone only to hear Lois Lane’s voice: “Hey, we stopped talking because I am an emotional cripple who doesn’t want to leave the house and can’t maintain relationships much.”
She does make me laugh!
She called because she wanted my help with a client—woman from Jamaica, just left her abusive husband to go live at Grace Smith (local battered woman’s refuge), three-year-old son, no money. Is client eligible for the third stimulus check?
“That depends,” I said. “Does she have a social security number?”
“I don’t think so,” said Lois Lane. “But her son was born here—”
“Which means he’s eligible for a social security card. Which would make him eligible for the third stimulus check. More importantly, it would make him eligible for something called the Child Tax Credit, which Biden is setting up something like a universal basic income, to be disbursed monthly. But, of course, your client must have a social worker at Grace Smith who’s on top of all this—”
Lois Lane didn’t know.
“Well, my dear, I think you have to assume that she does. It’s the nature of battered women’s refuges,” I said kindly.
“I can’t get any information out of them,” she said.
“Of course not,” I said. “They would be committed to maintaining client confidentiality.”
“She’s just so shell-shocked,” Lois Lane said. “Right now, she is dealing with these debilitating headaches, the result of being punched in the head (literally) for years—”
“Ummmmm,” I said. “Well, you know, your role is as this woman’s literacy tutor. That’s a pretty defined role. I’m not sure what the overlap with helping her get her stimulus check may be there.”
“Fourteen hundred dollars could get her new bras and new shoes, both of which she needs—”
“Ri-i-ight,” I said. “Still, as I say, off the top of my head, I don’t see the overlap. You could create one, I suppose, by figuring out some pretext that would make it necessary for you to talk to her social worker—sorry, I don’t have a clue what that pretext might be—”
“She’s not easy to understand,” Lois Lane said. “She’s not easy to deal with at all. Somebody has her passport. I got no angle. I just want to see her succeed and flourish in this new world she’s found herself in, you know?”
“Well, I’d be happy to take a stab at her taxes if it comes to that,” I said. “But I think that invitation has to come through Grace Smith.”
And that’s where I left it.
I am very fond of Lois Lane. We speak the same language—which is a very rare thing for me; I am constantly having to translate the things in my head into Other-People-ese, and I’ve never had to do that with her.
But I’ve given up on any idea that I can maintain any kind of a friendship with her.
###
What else?
I was busy, busy, busy yesterday, but I did slip out in the afternoon for a six-mile tromp:
One intriguing thing about this time of year when it’s warm enough to be outside, but the trees are still six weeks away from leaving is that you can see all those abandoned old houses in the middle of the forest:
In the evening, we did Family Zoom where the conversation came round to the Millennial fixation on gender pronouns.
“My gender is male,” Ichabod explained helpfully. “My pronouns are ‘he’ and ‘they.’ But that doesn’t say anything about my sexual preferences.”
I rolled my eyes.
Ichabod said something sharp.
“No, you’re the one who doesn’t get it,” I replied. “So far as I can see, everyone is pansexual, capable of enormous numbers of gender roles. Defining yourself is limiting yourself, putting yourself in a box. You think that’s radical! I think you’re being played. All categories are marketing categories, so you’re just making it very easy to sell you a particular menu of consumer goods, political attitudes, and entertainment choices. Those consumer goods, political attitudes, and entertainment choices? They’re your identity!
"I don’t understand why people have such a hard time understanding that. What kind of liberation is it to make it easy for other people to put you in a box? Like Walt Whitman said, I contain multitudes—”
“So, you won’t use a person’s preferred gender pronouns?”
“Well, of course, I will. I call people whatever they like to be called. That’s just etiquette.”
He opened his mouth and shut it again.
But five minutes later, we kissed and made up.
