New Year's is a time for looking at where we've been and where
we're going. It's a time for resolutions, such as "I resolve not to
eat so much and spend so much during next year's holiday season."
(Yeah, sure.)
As a college professor, I tend to organize my life in terms of
the academic calendar, not the regular calendar. Years begin in
September and end in May, and June through August is "free time,"
sort of. Actually, it bugs me when people tell me I have summers
"off": just because I'm not teaching doesn't mean I'm not working,
okay? Or do you think my articles and columns write themselves?
(Memo to self: resolve to be less defensive in 2005.)
So when New Year's rolls around, the "year" I look back on has
really been only four months long. And how has the last four months
been?
Pretty lousy, actually.
Before reacting, do me a favor. Please do not tell me "Yes, I
understand. That horrible election..."
I agree that the election was upsetting. But to give you some
perspective, let me tell you about my life over the last few
months:
Early September: I am harassed by a large, armed Texas state
trooper who after seeing me kiss another guy tells me that
"homosexual conduct is against the law." Although I cite
Lawrence v. Texas and point out that Texas state law never
banned mere kissing, he maintains his position. I relent, he lets
me go, and the following week I file a formal complaint. (More on
that later.)
Late September: A close friend commits suicide. 32 years old,
bright, attractive, talented. Now dead. Turns out that, among
various other problems, he had become involved with crystal
meth.
Early October: My grandmother dies. Certainly more expected than
my friend's death, but still a terrible blow. She was one of the
first people I came out to, and she's always been one of my great
supporters. Grandma Tess, rest in peace.
Late October: One week after burying his mother, my father is
fired from his job. He and my mother decide to leave New York and
retire to Texas, close to my sister, where the cost of living is
better. (Be sure to say hi to my favorite trooper!). I am briefly
reminded that Dad, my hero, is not invincible.
Early November: the election. Yes, it's bad. But by comparison
with other things happening in my life, it seems like a minor
blip.
Late November: my sister undergoes surgery. She's fine, but Mom
and Dad - who have had their share of challenges in the past month
- are further drained emotionally.
Early December: I discover that I need a new roof on my house -
soon. A very costly new roof. (Better not ask Dad for help.)
So, how am I doing?
Just fine, thank you.
Abraham Lincoln once said that most folks are about as happy as
they make up their minds to be. He was right.
This is not to say that we don't face challenges that threaten
our well being. But if we constantly dwell on the challenges, and
never look at the "bright side," we're guaranteed to be
miserable.
Admittedly, there is no "bright side" to a friend's suicide. But
I am thankful for my own health and well being. I'm thankful, too,
that my sister is recovering well.
I'm thankful for 35 years of knowing a wonderful grandmother.
Some people never know their grandparents. I knew all four (two
still living) as well as five of my eight great-grandparents.
I'm thankful that my parents, who worked hard for many years,
are able to retire comfortably. I'm thankful that, although I'll
have to tighten my belt in 2005, somehow I'm managing to pay for my
new roof.
I'm thankful that I live in a country that holds regular
elections. I'm thankful that my partner and I have a wonderful life
together, even without recognition from the shortsighted Michigan
voters who supported Proposal 2. I'm thankful we have the freedoms
that we do.
And I'm thankful that the ignorant trooper who harassed me is
being put on six months probation, was given a formal written
reprimand, and will be required to take additional classes on Texas
state law. Sometimes the system does work.
2004 wasn't so bad after all. Resolve to be happy in 2005.