Persephone, hold firm

If something doesn't feel right, even when it's an offer of help, maybe it isn't.

I'm moving tomorrow. A friend drove up from Colorado to help. When he made the offer he told me that he could get a good deal on a moving van and offered to rent one and drive it up here.

I hemmed and hawed. Wouldn't that end up being awfully expensive? Sometimes they charge per mile on top of the rental. He insisted it would be a good deal, but promised to give me prices before he reserved it. When he called me with them, they turned out to be just about the same as what a U-Haul truck would cost to rent. I suggested I just reserve the U-Haul so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

"But how would I get out there, then? Or, if I drive, what would I do with my car."

I had three suggestions: rent a car and drive up, take the bus, fly. He had arguments against each of them. Although I wasn't comfortable with the decision, I eventually agreed to leave the renting of the van to him.

He arrived yesterday. In a cargo van. Not a moving van, a cargo van. For the same price the U-Haul would have been. We've loaded it as full as we can, but there's a lot that won't fit. My vacuum. My shelves. My loveseat. And more. I have to leave them behind.

In the scheme of things, what I'm leaving behind is just stuff. It doesn't matter. But I shouldn't have to leave it. Had I held my ground and told my friend that I was uncomfortable with him renting the moving van, that I wanted to make sure I got the van I wanted, I wouldn't have to leave anything behind. He might have been annoyed, but not for long. I would have had to pay for him to fly out, but I'll end up spending more than that to replace what's being left.

It's my fault, and I'm annoyed with myself.

What can you stand firm on in just five minutes that may save you headaches or expense later?

In Defense of . . .

"I'm okay with most people, but that (shudder), that's just . . . It's not right."

Twice in the past week I heard people say this, or something a lot like it. And that was just last week. It's a judgment statement that people make all the time. If the statement referred to something harmful:

I'm okay with most people, but rape/ pedophilia/ beastiality/ murder (shudder), that's just . . . It's not right.

Then I might not have a problem with it. I still wouldn't like the word choice -- condeming the person instead of the action -- but I'd be a lot more okay with it.

Last week, as usual, neither statement was about actions that cause harm to anyone. In fact, they weren't even about actions or lifestyles that would be easily noticable.

Last week, the things that brought about the squeamish comments were gender correction surgeries and furries.

And, as usual, the comments made by the squeamish illustrated how uninformed they were. To be fair, though, one of them asked me questions. The other just made assumptions. Sadly, making assumptions seems to be the more common of the two.

Although the conversations we ended up having in both instances lasted longer than five minutes, it took just five minutes for me to address and refute many of the common misconceptions, stereotypes, and prejudices regarding both gender dysphoria and furries.

Most prejudices stem from ignorance. And much of that ignorance can addressed, on a surface level, in just five minutes. People who hold prejudices will often start to rethink their points of view if someone they know challenges their assumptions. Five minutes may not overcome the prejudice, but it's a start.

What prejudices can you address in just five minutes?

Say what?

Stating your case quickly and clearly sometimes gets you what you want.

Several years ago my sister, my nephew, and I were running errands. It was late, and everyone was ready for dinner--my nine-year-old nephew particularly. He didn't react well to hunger, so I knew there wasn't time to head home and make dinner. Fortunately, the town offered plenty of restaurant choices, though a sit-down restaurant probably would take too long, too. Fast food it was.

I was driving, so I made the announcement:

"We're gonna run through a drive-through. Burger King or Taco Johns?"

My nephew immediately balked. "I wanna go to McDonalds."

I tried explaining that McDonalds was the absolutely worst fast food restaurant for a vegetarian (can't even eat their fries, and their salads all had chicken on them). But he was hungry, tired, and cranky as only a nine-year-old can be.

"Let's try this again. Instead of whining and getting mad, how about you tell me why it's so important that we go to McDonalds instead of Burger King."

"It won't matter."

"Try me. But calmly."

So he did. This was the last day to get a particular Happy Meal toy. He had all the rest from the series, but my parents hadn't had time to take him to McDonalds over the past week (a weekly ritual of theirs), so he didnt have this one.

I remember how important things like that can be. And my dinner could wait till I dropped my sister and nephew off. We went to McDonalds. But if he hadn't been able to explain in less than five minutes why going to McDonalds was so important to him, we wouldn't have.

What position of yours can you explain to an adversary in just five minutes to make a difference in your life?