Do I really have ADHD?

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Saturday December 31, 2016 · 7:15 PM PST

2016/12/31 · 19:15

Update: I posted this earlier but wimped out and took it down. I really don’t like talking about myself in this much detail. After receiving a couple of extremely useful messages, though, I’m posting it again in the hope that it might help someone else. Two Kossacks independently suggested that what I describe may indicate high-function AS. I plan to follow up with my therapist. Thank you and Happy New Year to everyone!

I’ve always known that I’m a little off.

Perhaps many people feel this way. I know about cognitive biases and try to recognize my own, but this is something that has stalked me since the edge of memory.

I never really fit in at my grade school, for example. There were more bullies than friends. Some of it was the bad hair and cheap clothes. My skinny, unathletic awkwardness probably didn’t help either, but a big part of the problem was my utter lack of social skills. I wanted more than anything to just be normal, but that was an impossible dream.

I was slow. It was difficult for me to keep up with conversations. I couldn’t respond to taunts — I would simply freeze up under an avalanche of thoughts and emotions. It was difficult to process things that came easily to the other kids.

Reading was a chore, too. I had no trouble understanding the words, but would sometimes have to reread a passage several times before the content would sink in. I could pay attention in class, but it didn’t take much for my mind to wander.

I was a good student, though. Very good, in fact. A gifted and talented, straight-A type. I did well on standardized tests, though would sometimes struggle to finish reading comprehension portions. I was also quiet and well-behaved. To an adult, there was no problem that needed to be fixed. The bullying was just something that I would have to deal with.

My social situation worsened considerably in middle school. This probably isn’t surprising — I think everyone has a hard time during these years. I was picked on incessantly and mercilessly. I dreaded every day. On one occasion I was attacked by three other boys. These were strangers who punched, kicked and mocked me for no apparent reason. I guess I was just an easy target. I remember my last day after three years at that school and the massive sense of relief I felt. I could finally leave it behind me, or at least try.

Things were better in high school. To my surprise I even dated a little bit. I continued to do well academically. Plenty of scholarships followed, which was nice because without them I would have been working my way through college.

I don’t want this diary to become an autobiography, though. Life continued. I went to college, got married, defended my PhD, and now have a beautiful son and a nice career.

Still, some of the difficulties persisted and manifest themselves at times.

In graduate school, for example, I had pretty severe impostor syndrome. I struggled at times with concepts that in hindsight were relatively simple. Reading was still a chore and lectures were almost useless to me. I was easily and deeply distracted by a single unrecognized technical term or slightly different notation. I would spend hours stewing over problems, letting my brain attack from every angle until something sensible worked its way through. Afterward, I would be annoyed that the book or professor had been unnecessarily cryptic. I often had to rewrite homework sets multiple times until I worked out all of my stupid mistakes and the grader could follow my answers. Compared to my peers, I clearly had a different style of learning.

I’ve never been any good at parties — all of the competing threads overwhelm and exhaust me. It probably doesn’t help that I also have social anxiety. I can talk too much and repeat myself when I get going. Then I realize what I’m doing and the anxiety increases.

My mind still tries to wander while I’m listening. It helps to avoid eye contact so that I can better concentrate on what people say, but then I worry about not maintaining eye contact. At times I find myself mouthing their words in an attempt to process.

My efforts at organization are largely fruitless and I won’t buy a smart phone for fear of losing it.

I also have muscle tension issues and fidget almost every waking hour. My hands always shake when I try to control them.

Recently, due to some personal matters I will not go into, I started seeing a therapist. I was mostly interested in working on my moderate depression and anxiety. However, after a few sessions, the therapist suggested that I might have ADHD. We went through the symptoms and he said that I was borderline. At the very least, he thinks that I have ADHD tendencies.

So now I’m trying to process this. If the diagnosis is correct, what does it mean? I nearly cried when I thought of the difficult moments in my life through this new lens. It wouldn’t change my identity or provide an excuse for my failures, but the idea is appealing in some ways. Perhaps I could make use of tools and techniques that I have not previously considered. It would also provide some peace to know that there is a name for the way my brain works and that I am not alone.

I’m forever and always a skeptic, though. I’ll need more data and time before I can accept and internalize even a borderline ADHD diagnosis. There could be other explanations, of course. It will take some effort to sort all of this out.

If anyone out there with ADHD has any thoughts, I would love to hear them. Thank you.

A response to "don't worry"

patrickz

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Sunday November 13, 2016 · 6:23 PM PST

2016/11/13 · 18:23

This is just a quick response I wrote to well-meaning people who said “Don’t worry, pray.” Nothing new here but perhaps it will be of some use to someone:

I appreciate the sentiment, but this is more easily said from a position of relative privilege. Would you feel the same way if your family was being bullied or threatened? Would you be completely free of worry? Perhaps, but I think most people would understandably be concerned, regardless of how much they pray. Who are we to tell them they shouldn't be?

But you are right about doing something concrete, like standing up to hate and bigotry when we see it, or showing others that we love them regardless of race or religion or ability or any other label that might put them in harm's way.

Violent racists and bigots are coming out of the woodwork; while I can afford to ignore them, my Muslim friends and neighbors can't. We are doing our best to show them that they are part of our family, but I'll never tell them not to worry

On our own

patrickz

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Tuesday November 08, 2016 · 10:41 PM PST

2016/11/08 · 22:41

The trolls won and progressives lost. All progressives. Everyone who cares about social justice, the environment, basic scientific research, education, and common decency. It doesn’t matter if you feel like you won because you get to say you told us so, or that you think this means Clinton voters somehow learned a lesson. You lost. I lost. My son lost. Everyone who isn’t a troll lost, regardless of your actual vote (or non-vote).

I wasn’t prepared for this. I bought into the idea that Clinton would probably win. I thought about volunteering but my busy life seemed to preclude the idea. So I chipped in a few bucks and voted and thought it would be okay. I was wrong, and I regret not doing more.

Progressives appear to be largely on their own now, at least nationally speaking. Congress, the executive branch, and our federal courts will be stacked against us. The majority in Washington will not care what we have to say. I expect that there will be a lot of destruction — this seems to be the m.o. for our new breed of right-wing radical. We won’t be able to stop most of it.

Those of us who happen to live in a deep blue state may be somewhat sheltered from the fallout, though I expect everyone will feel the pinch. There will be a significant reduction in vital services that were once provided by the federal government. Markets will probably weaken, and many people will lose their livelihoods. There are a lot of vulnerable folks out there.

So what can progressives do under these circumstances? It doesn’t seem that griping will do much good. What can we do to at least preserve some of what we have? Does it make sense to refocus our energy at the state and local levels, at least in places where it may be of some use? Do we advocate for the formation of coalitions to provide services that may be taken away at a federal level? What about public lands or climate change? What can we do for people stuck in deep red states? What’s practical and what’s legal? I don’t have any answers, but I feel like I am going to have to start thinking about politics a little bit differently.

I don’t want to just mope around for the next four years. There has to be something that we can do. Any ideas? Or is it a lost cause?

Stars

patrickz

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Saturday October 22, 2016 · 5:09 PM PDT

2016/10/22 · 17:09

I grew up among the rolling hills of central Oklahoma, where scrubby post and blackjack oak can grow in thickets, or thin out to form savannas with wild grasses. This is the western edge of the Cross Timbers: a knotty, meandering shoreline which runs along the expanse of the Great Plains.

The topography here is largely shaped by the movement of water. Runoff from heavy spring rains easily cut gullies in the sandy loam. It passes over and through the land, drains into rivers, accumulates in reservoirs or sinks deep into aquifers, but generally flows to the southeast, toward the Mississippi. Erosion exposes clay and outcrops of soft Garber sandstone, providing hints of a deep geologic past. Barite roses bloom from the deposits, having crystallized during the retreat of an ancient sea, and are sometimes found scattered in the leaves and thin humus. The stone and clay are red with hematite, a striking characteristic of these famous Permian beds.

We were about a ten mile drive out from main street, a trek made along a stretch of two-lane blacktop. This was once part of a state highway, but that was re-routed to the south decades ago to avoid building bridges over the planned flooding. There are a few businesses, a fire station and a couple of churches on the way, but mostly one encounters grass, trees, ranches, little red ledges and long driveways leading to secluded homes. Eventually, you cross a bridge over a shallow arm of the lake, then turn off before you run into the marina. There aren’t any strip malls out here — while it may not be the middle of nowhere, it’s probably somewhere on the outskirts.

A car is a necessity in a place like this. All of the grocery stores were in town. We attended the rural elementary school just a mile down the road, but we never walked there. There were no sidewalks and it was too dangerous. Most of our friends were even further away. Trick-or-treating in our sparsely populated neighborhood was an exercise in futility; instead, we would go to my grandmother’s neighborhood in the city.

But we had space. As kids, we would take advantage of the warmer months to explore the surrounding acres of wood and glade. Our boundaries were country roads and barbed wire fences. There was a little pond to canoe and fish on, stocked with bluegill, bass and catfish. Deer, opossum, armadillos, foxes, raccoons, bobcats and coyotes all roamed the property. Fallen trees and sticks provided us with raw material for huts and bonfires. If we were lucky, a snow or two each winter would cover the ground — just enough to race sleds down the steep side of our little dam. Even rarer, the pond might freeze over thick enough to skate on. We spent a lot of time outside.

The nights were something, too. The diffuse band of the Milky Way arched across the skies of my youth. Granted, this was not the darkest place on the planet — a sodium glow could be seen to the west, a feature which continues to brighten — but it was ours, and it was brilliant. My dad would sometimes bring out the telescope when the weather permitted. My favorite targets were globular clusters; these densely-packed systems, composed of hundreds of thousands of old, anonymous stars, shine brightly together against the galactic backdrop.

We didn’t need a telescope to enjoy the sky, though. My siblings and I would sometimes stretch out on the hood of our station wagon, trying to catch a shooting star or two. It was easy to get lost in that sparkling field. Save for the few celebrities which astronomers use to organize the celestial sphere, it was nearly impossible to focus on individuals. Faced with such vast numbers, I was left trying to take in the swirling effect of the whole. I’m not sure that I understood the significance of it back then. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel that this unmediated exposure to the depth and breadth of the cosmos deeply affected me.

With warm evenings came the clamor of crickets, cicadas, frogs and all of the other creatures that felt inclined to join in. The resultant wall of sound crashed in through our window screens. While not entirely unpleasant, it was a blaring reminder of our isolation. I would sometimes lie awake, listening, the dark forest intruding on my thoughts.

patrickz

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Friday October 07, 2016 · 7:40 AM PDT

2016/10/07 · 07:40

I flew down to Oklahoma on Sunday. The next morning, friends and family gathered at a red brick church to remember my grandmother. It was her church, but I wasn’t so familiar with it. The one I remember from my childhood, still standing tall just down the street from her house, changed hands recently as the Methodists consolidated. This one didn’t have the right smell.

The pastor seemed nice and did a fine job, but I don’t remember much of his sermon. I appreciate the rituals — I like to see some things being kept holy — but I can’t really connect with the hope of everlasting life. My brother’s speech, on the other hand, moved me to tears. Afterward, I could only tell him it was perfect; I couldn’t manage more.

After lunch, a handful of close friends and family rode in the funeral home limos down I-44 to Fort Sill National Cemetery.

For those who have not visited this region of the country, allow me to set the scene. To the west, the weathered granite cap of Mount Scott rises from the mixed grass prairie, marking the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. Massive wind turbines can be seen spinning in the famous Oklahoma wind just to the north of it. On this day, the occasional clap of artillery can be heard as dust clouds form in the distance. This area is among my favorites for its stark landscapes and big skies.

Here, my grandmother received a military funeral honors ceremony. During the final months of WWII and for several after, she served at the Fleet Post Office in New York. As the WAVES demobilized, she was discharged in January of 1946 with a rank of Seaman First Class.

During Taps, I noticed that my uncle, also a Navy veteran, was saluting. With his health in decline, I don’t think he recognized me and sometimes needed loving direction from his wife or daughter. But he stood at attention.

We all watched silently as a young woman in uniform folded the flag that had draped over my grandmother’s coffin. It was then presented to my aunt. After the ceremony, we waited for the completion of the interment.

On the way to my grandmother’s site, we took a few minutes to visit my dad. This was the first time I’ve seen his headstone in person. He was discharged as a Sergeant in the Air Force after serving in Taiwan during the Vietnam War. He passed away 6 years ago. My mom makes the trip from Norman every year on his birthday. I touched his headstone and we moved on.

The fresh sod and flowers stood out in my grandmother’s row. No headstone yet, that will come later. My grandfather is next to her — his marker shows a little age. While posted in New York, my grandmother met and married my grandfather (a handsome man who played guitar, in her words). He had served on the USS Raton, a submarine that saw action in the Pacific. He passed away 12 years ago.

As we walked back to the limos, I noted the symbols on the other headstones. Many Christians, of course, but also Hindu, Muslim, and several with nothing above their names.

Later that evening I played a board game with my mom, brother and sister at my sister’s house. Not long after my 9 year old nephew went to his bedroom, we heard a muffled wail. The weight of the day’s events had finally hit him. He was very close to his great-grandmother, who he will never again see in his life. His mournful cry stirred up in me a sense of loss that I haven’t felt since my dad died.

After a sleepless night, I flew home.

patrickz

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Friday July 03, 2015 · 7:23 AM PDT

2015/07/03 · 07:23

Let me tell you about someone who has done a lot of good for her community.

Back in 2013, right after a powerful EF5 tornado devastated downtown Moore, this person spent a lot of time trying to give people back their memories. Here's a story about her from Weather.com:

After an EF5 tornado devastated the Oklahoma City area, local photographer Amy Pierce noticed a particularly heart-wrenching kind of debris swirling on the street: photographs.
“Wedding pictures, military pictures, baby pictures: They were everywhere and I knew I had to do something,” Pierce said. She and a few volunteers immediately started walking the streets to pick up photos, grabbing as many as they could before street sweepers came in to clear debris in the hours after the storm.

So far, she’s collected about 4,000 with more images on the way from volunteers every hour.

After photos are collected, they are laid out to dry on paper towels and carefully cleaned with dryer sheets. Then, the restoration work begins. Each image is washed in deionized water or with a special photo cleaning solution; dried, digitally scanned and carefully restored using photo editing software.

It’s painstaking work – rebuilding memories a "microinch" at a time – and it can take hours for each photograph. But the ability to reunite families with memories they thought were lost is priceless, Beeler said.
As a photographer, Pierce agrees. “Insurance can get you back your car and your house,” she said, “but insurance can’t return your photos – it can’t return your memories.”

Amy has also donated her time and talent to an organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. They find photographers to create portraits for families suffering the loss of an infant.

I've known Amy for a long time as my sister has been friends with her since grade school. I remember when she first told me that she wanted to become a photographer and wondering if it was realistic. Well, she worked hard and made it happen. It's always nice to see someone get to make a living doing what they love. Doubly so when they use their talents to give back to the community.

Unfortunately, the epic flooding in Oklahoma wrecked Amy's business. This link contains a piece that aired on a local newscast, as well as an article about her situation. Interestingly, the local station ran the story because they remembered Amy's volunteer work after the tornado and wanted to help. I think that says a lot.

From the article:

While the rain has gone, one local artist said her business is still dealing with mother nature’s leftovers.
“We have the fans going all the time,” Amy Habegger-Pierce said.

The artist says she lost roughly $15,000 worth of camera and editing equipment.
Despite the waterlogged equipment, warped wooded floors and damaged props and backdrops, the artist is hopeful her shop will be back up in running in a few months.

“She’s a wonderful person,” longtime friend Julia Narramore said. “She’s helped this community so much.”
Narramore has set up an online fundraising page to help the photographer.

“Amy has used her skills in so many beautiful ways,” Narramore said.

She’s donated services to the nonprofit Now I lay Me Down to Sleep, an organization assisting parents dealing with infant lose.

Habegger-Pierce is also a familiar face. Last year, she was featured for her work helping Moore tornado victims who lost photographs in the deadly tornadoes.

“She helped reunited families with the photos and even restored many of them,” Narramore said." (spelling corrected)

Julia is my sister. She set up a GoFundMe page for Amy. You can find it here (also linked in the article):

Link to GoFundMe page

Here's the appeal in full:

I am Julia Narramore and have been friends with the owner of Studio Innovations for twenty-four years. Amy developed a passion for photography in high school and after college with determination and hard work opened Studio Innovations in 2008. Like many people and businesses Studio Innovations suffered major damage due to the terrible flooding in Oklahoma. Studio Innovations is a small photography studio that has made a big impact on its surrounding community in its relatively short existence. The owner and photographer has donated it’s services to Now I lay me down to sleep foundation, which is a nonprofit organization that assists parents dealing with an early infant loss. When Moore was hit with the horrific tornadoes in 2014 studio innovations organized photo recovery. Amy Habeggar Pierce realized that many people had lost everything and wanted to help people recover their precious memories. She has helped many families who couldn’t afford pictures by offering discounted or free sessions. Instead of becoming a rival to new and upcoming photographers she has mentored many of them, teaching them that they could all learn from each other and helping them get started. Besides donating her time as a photographer she also donates her time as a girl scout volunteer. Studio Innovations has lost over $13,000 worth of equipment ranging from backdrops to lighting and computers none of which is going to be covered. Studio Innovations has given to its community and loves what she does but she won’t be able to continue without help. The funds raised will go towards replacing backdrops and equipment that was destroyed in the flood. It’s our turn to help Amy rebuild so that she can continue to help others in the community. (emphasis added)

Couldn't have said it better myself.

I also had a chat with my sister to get a little more info on Amy's situation. She's having trouble raising the funds on her own because of a lack of credit (she tends to use cash). The insurance won't cover near enough, and Amy and her husband simply don't have the means to do this alone. If she can't raise the money to replace her equipment, she could lose her dream.

And that would be a shame. I read about how easily bigots can raise money for being bigots and wonder: why can't we help out an independent artist who does good for her community? If anyone deserves a helping hand, it's someone like Amy who spends an awful lot of time making life better for others.

Fortunately, there are a number of ways you can help this big-hearted artist and entrepreneur recover. Donating to her GoFundMe page will help Amy replace the damaged equipment. If you happen to live in the central Oklahoma area and need a photographer, you can find Amy's contact info on her website. You can also like and/or share her Facebook page. And of course, you can always help get the word out by sharing the links found in this diary.

Thank you for reading. Here's hoping that Amy can get back to helping others soon.

A surprise update on the homeless family

patrickz

Community (This content is not subject to review by Daily Kos staff prior to publication.)

Friday June 26, 2015 · 12:08 AM PDT

2015/06/26 · 00:08

Well, I just had a busy evening. I got a message from Chelsie asking me if she could borrow my camping gear. So I packed two sleeping bags, two air mattresses and a tent into my enormous backpack, got my son into the stroller and hopped onto the train. I also picked up a blanket for them.

After waiting some time after they were supposed to arrive, I started to worry that I had the wrong stop. So I went back home, checked my messages, then realized that I should have just waited a few more minutes because the trains were running late. So back I went, and sure enough, they were waiting.

In this case, 'they' consisted only of Chelsie and Terrance. That's right - the pair has decided to work through their rough patch and get counseling. The children are staying with a family member, but this family member would not provide space for Chelsie and Terrance. Thus the decision to camp.

Terrance and Chelsie had a pretty rough go of it over the last week or two, but it does seem that things are looking up. They say they have found a shelter that will be made available to them in about a week. (Of course, nothing is certain until they actually move in.) They will be allowed to stay for a month, which will hopefully give them enough time to make progress on other fronts.

Terrance also has found real work through a temp agency driving forklifts. It's not much, but at least it will be a paycheck. I believe his first one is coming next week. All he cares about is having enough to provide for his family.

I took them out to eat at a burger joint where I complained some about our broken system. Then I bought them a couple of boxes of granola bars and some fruit at the grocery store. They have a few cans of soup from a food bank and access to showers at a gym.

And yes, they are camping in town. It's technically not allowed, but it seems the cops are pretty understanding of the homeless situation around here. I just hope they can get a good night's rest.

After our little shopping trip we headed over to their 'campsite'. I handed over the pack, said good night and good luck, then went to hop on the train.

On the short walk from the platform to my little apartment, I looked up at the night sky. In some of the darker areas of our apartment complex it's not too bad. Of course, Jupiter and Venus have been putting on quite a show for everyone recently, even with the light pollution. Anyway, it helps me to look up every now and then. It grounds me.

And that's it. I just thought the few of you who have been paying attention to this saga would like to know what's been going on.

I should also mention that I locked the GoFundMe page so that it will not accept donations. However, if some kind soul out there wants to lend a hand, please let me know in the comments or via Kosmail and I will consider opening it up again. Better yet, if you have a room in the Portland, OR area and would be willing to give them a place to sleep for the week, please contact me.

Another paper on the ongoing mass extinction event

patrickz

Community (This content is not subject to review by Daily Kos staff prior to publication.)

Friday June 19, 2015 · 10:33 PM PDT

2015/06/19 · 22:33

From the journal Science Advances:

The evidence is incontrovertible that recent extinction rates are unprecedented in human history and highly unusual in Earth’s history. Our analysis emphasizes that our global society has started to destroy species of other organisms at an accelerating rate, initiating a mass extinction episode unparalleled for 65 million years. If the currently elevated extinction pace is allowed to continue, humans will soon (in as little as three human lifetimes) be deprived of many biodiversity benefits. On human time scales, this loss would be effectively permanent because in the aftermath of past mass extinctions, the living world took hundreds of thousands to millions of years to rediversify. Avoiding a true sixth mass extinction will require rapid, greatly intensified efforts to conserve already threatened species and to alleviate pressures on their populations—notably habitat loss, overexploitation for economic gain, and climate change (31–33). All of these are related to human population size and growth, which increases consumption (especially among the rich), and economic inequity (6). However, the window of opportunity is rapidly closing. (emphasis added)

It's refreshing to see such blunt language in a peer-reviewed article. As most of you know, scientists tend to be a reticent lot. Have you ever heard about coaches who tend to understate player injuries? For example, if coach says it's just turf toe, then the player may very well have a broken foot. If coach says it's a sprain, then surgery is probably just around the corner. If coach says the player will be out for a few games, well, you might want to consider sending flowers. While I'm not sure if that's a fair comparison, I can't help but wonder: if scientists say we're in trouble, are we in fact doomed? Only time will tell, I suppose.

A bit more about the article is below the fold.

patrickz

Community (This content is not subject to review by Daily Kos staff prior to publication.)

Monday June 15, 2015 · 6:17 PM PDT

2015/06/15 · 18:17

I am not generally quick to anger. I try to be laid back, polite, and reasonable. There are aspects of our society that upset me, sure, but I'm usually shielded from that reality while I hide in my little bubble of privilege. Not quite so much these days. I've been on the phone, calling every organization I can think of that might be able to help a homeless family find temporary shelter, and I always get one of two answers: 'are they on the wait list?' or 'sorry, we can't help'. My rage is boiling over.

I'm aware of the scale of the homeless problem. I understand why the bureaucracy is in place. But do you know what the reality is? We as a society are telling this family and other homeless folk that we don't give a sh*t about them. Excuses don't change that.

The community here at DK has helped the family stay afloat for a little while, and they appreciate that. I went into this thinking that the assistance we provided would give them the time they need to let the system to work. Let me tell you, if you didn't already know, our safety net has some family sized holes in it.

And I know for a fact that we as a nation can afford to help them and everyone else without a home. We have the tools, but for whatever reason we don't have the will. I know I'm preaching to the choir. It just sickens me to see people driving around my town in $100,000 status symbols when there are so many people out in the streets. I guess it makes sense that people in affluent areas wouldn't want to help them. I mean, who wants all those dirty homeless people living in their backyards, driving down property values? And god forbid one might bother you on your way to get a latte. Best to run them out of town. I know, that might not be a fair assessment, but it's how it feels.

I also called a church that runs a severe weather shelter. Of course they said they couldn't help. Not that I expect or even want churches to solve the homeless problem, but it's an amazing thing to me. I seem to remember Jesus saying something about helping the poor, and I don't recall a list of rules on when or where you are allowed to do so. Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought the idea was that you open up your home and feed and clothe strangers in need if you have the means. Do they really not have the means? Or are they so worried about protecting themselves that they can't bend the rules from time to time? Is it that Christians don't actually follow Jesus' teachings, or do they only follow the parts they think are reasonable? Hah. Reasonable. Jesus was a radical. I'm not a Christian, but I would say that if you aren't a radical, then you don't follow Christ. Sometimes doing good requires a little bravery.

Oh, and about this job that Terrance (the father) found: he was so desperate that he jumped on the first thing that came up, which was of course a commission-only gig. I did some research on the company and let's just say they have some questionable business practices. And his 'training' is unpaid. So while I hope it works out for him, I get the feeling that this company preys on the desperate, just like so many scam artists out there. If I believed in hell, then I would imagine there is a special place there for those who take advantage of the poor.

That's about all I've got, and now the anger has subsided. It has been replaced by despair. But then, what is my despair to theirs? At least I know where I'm going to sleep tonight.

Will I write it? Only if they find a home.

patrickz

Community (This content is not subject to review by Daily Kos staff prior to publication.)

Saturday June 13, 2015 · 7:44 AM PDT

2015/06/13 · 07:44

Edit: I took down the site. I gave it more thought and believe that a book actually needs to be written before anyone will participate in anything like this. I don't know if this is possible given their situation, but I'll look into it. You all are the best. Thank you.

I came up with this idea to help a homeless family by offering to write their story. It even has a little video we put together: http://igg.me/...

I'm not going to ask any of you to contribute to it. (I also won't ask you not to, of course.) I only request that you give it a look and see if you think it's worth sharing. I created a Twitter handle, @Chelsie_Story, that you can follow. I don't have a vast social network, so if you could send out a tweet or share the page or any of those other social media thingies that people are always on about, I would be indebted to you. Sometimes the difference between failure and success is the right person advocating for a cause at the right time.

For those of you who haven't clicked on the link, I'll sum it up. After making some calls, I realized what the family was up against. I want to help the family get housing, but they have some debt (due to circumstances beyond their control or others taking advantage of them) that is a sticking point. The family also wants to tell their story and give back. If enough people buy into this project, I think we can do a lot of good on both fronts. And if you like perks, well, we got perks.

So what if we fail to reach our goal? Contributors get their money back. If we don't have enough to pay off their debt, the biggest obstacle to them finding permanent housing, then it just won't work. I really hope it does, though, not only for them, but because I'm excited about the writing project.

Anyway, that's the gist of the campaign. I should also mention that this is my last crowdfunding/fundraising adventure for the foreseeable future. I'll continue to post updates from the family and possibly about the campaign, but I won't be begging for anything. I do plan to continue hanging around DK more than I have in the past few years, though. I miss chatting with folks about science, the environment, etc.

Oh, and if you just want to give to the family, here is the GoFundMe page I set up for them: http://www.gofundme.com/...

Thank you for helping me help these folks. They appreciate it more than you know. I will continue to do for them what I can offline no matter what happens.

Two homeless children enjoy the science museum; not sure what's next

patrickz

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Sunday June 07, 2015 · 10:40 PM PDT

2015/06/07 · 22:40

This is an update on the homeless family I've been trying to help. Please see the previous diaries listed at the end for the whole story. Also, I must apologize. I have been leaving out the 'y' in Makayla's name. When I get a chance I will go back to correct all the previous diaries. GoFundMe site is here: http://www.gofundme.com/...

I know I promised a photo diary, but I just spent most of the day chasing my son around OMSI and didn't get many. However, I will post some photos Chelsie sent me below the fold. I did get a shot just before we crossed the parking lot from the streetcar:

Actually, we first went to the city fair. When I heard the prices I expressed my surprise and asked them if they would be okay with a trip to OMSI. (Plus it was pretty hot, and I didn't really want to be out during the worst of it.) Fortunately the kids were excited to go, and it didn't take that long to get there on public transit.

So we ended up at the science museum on $2 entry day. I also paid for them to go to see Monkey Kingdom at the Empirical Theater. They really liked that. Unfortunately I can't give a review because I didn't think my son would be able to sit through it. We spent our time having a late lunch and then running around.

I don't actually know what they did the rest of the time (because of the aforementioned 2yo with unlimited energy). Typical kid stuff, I presume. It sounded like they had a blast.

We left around closing time. The streetcar was delayed some time because an RV caught fire (yes, I did eventually see it) near the line and emergency vehicles were blocking the way. But it did give us some time to talk.

I asked them what they were going to do next. We talked about a number of options. They liked the motor home idea (even after seeing the burnt out RV), but that would still be a logistical challenge and require some intense fundraising. I'd be willing to give it a go; just not optimistic about it as a short-term solution.

We talked about tent camping. I've got a bit of backpacking equipment they could borrow, but without legal camping in the vicinity it's not likely to happen.

Then there are night shelters. They don't want to go back to that, but it might happen. Even those are in short supply, though.

I told her to send me numbers for the family shelters and I would call. I know it won't do any good, but I'll try.

The family really wants an apartment, but there are waiting lists for the apartments they can get into. Other apartments won't accept them. I got on my soapbox a little bit about these companies treating people as statistics, which of course wasn't all that helpful. But they are still looking, and I'm going to call a few on their behalf.

Terrance may not be able to go to his JOBS class tomorrow because they have to find a place to be after they check out of the hotel tomorrow morning.

I told them to stay in touch and that I would keep trying to help them. Chelsie gave me a hug and then I hopped off of the train. It was hard for me; I can't even imagine what they are going through right now.

We did some good, and I can't thank you all enough for the support. Chelsie says she wants to write a personal thank you. I'll post it when I get it.

I just wish I had a happy ending for you. Not tonight. Hopefully soon.

patrickz

Community (This content is not subject to review by Daily Kos staff prior to publication.)

Saturday June 06, 2015 · 11:30 PM PDT

2015/06/06 · 23:30

"And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is."
"It’s a lot more complicated than that -"
"No. It ain’t. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they’re getting worried that they won’t like the truth. People as things, that’s where it starts."
"Oh, I'm sure there are worse crimes--"
"But they starts with thinking about people as things..."
- Granny Weatherwax educating Mightily Oats in Carpe Jugulum. We miss you, Terry.

We are things in the end, of course, but more. We tell stories. Story-telling things. Let's just stick with people.

But there are so many of us. Makes it easy to think of people as things.

How many do you pass on your evening commute? Do you give their stories more than a passing thought? And the ones far away, living in shacks?

Do you give thought to what the world will be like after you die? All of those humans popping into existence, fluttering into oblivion. What will they see? How will they treat each other? How much pain will they endure?

It overwhelms me. How can we possibly bear that burden? Our brains aren't wired to consider more than a few. It's a conundrum.

And then there are the monsters, those who see others only as objects - to command, to extort, to scam, to abuse, to neglect. Are they things? Are they evil? Can a thing be evil?

No, they are people, of course. They test us. They represent us. They are us. We all sin, just some more than others. I wonder, do we sacrifice the worst sinners for absolution?

We must rebel against the very idea of people as things. Many of us already do. We teach, we vote, we give, we care. Caring is the key. Without it, we are lost.

Is caring enough, though? I don't know the answer. All we can do is try.

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Two homeless children enjoy the science museum; not sure what's next

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