Bumpers

Buzzfeed helpfully offered a quiz this morning to help me figure out which psychological complex I have. The results were not exactly earthshaking. I have a Guilt Complex which includes “feelings of unworthiness” and a tendency to “put others needs before my own.” I need to develop self-compassion and prioritize my well-being, etc., etc. Okay, chatbot, well played.

But there is another side of me that is stubborn and quite tenacious, and can sometimes come across as arrogant. It’s gotten me into trouble too, and caused a lot of internal conflict when I assert myself about something I think is worth standing up for. I’m not sure I always do it gracefully. That’s the problem with anxiety. It gets you both coming and going. I read somewhere a few years back that anxiety and anger ride together on the same train, and I think that’s definitely true.

My anger sometimes flared up when I felt that Sarah was not being treated well or was being treated in an ableist fashion. Sarah did not really like these episodes of my assertive anger or appreciate them. I felt it was important that she not be taken for granted and that the world make space for her, but she was just a little girl who wanted everyone to be her friend. There was an incident with the class PTA where a getting-to-know-you fall outing was planned at the local bowling alley for all families. The only problem was the local bowling alley was down a flight of stairs in the basement of the building and there was no elevator. I posted on the class listserv after the outing was announced and asked (obligated) that it be moved to a second bowling alley, slightly further away, that was wheelchair accessible and also had bumpers for the balls, and racks that Sarah could roll the ball down. She actually really liked bowling with these accommodations. I was strident. The PTA mom who had arranged the outing took offense and refused to participate from then on. It became something of a cause celebre.

It was “too late” to move the outing and get the group’s deposit back and we ended up carrying Sarah and her chair down the stairs and I remember sitting stiffly with a smile pasted on my face thinking, “Well, I managed to screw up this school year.” My anger always seemed to screw things up even if I felt my cause was just.

I’ve always been motivated by wanting to help people and also by a strong sense of justice. I guess that’s what ultimately sent me to law school. I studied for the GRE in Psychology to enter a graduate program but it was all rat mazes and electrons and I was really turned off. I applied to social work school and was accepted, but my mother, who was a social worker, had so many negative feelings about being a social worker (and everything else) that I deferred for two years and worked for a while after college. I remember I saw the Errol Morris film The Thin Blue Line when it came out in 1988 and it just galvinized me. It’s a shocking documentary of injustice and if you haven’t seen it, you should. I saw it several more times and around that time, my Dad offered to pay for me to take an LSAT prep course. I did quite well; I’ve always been a good tester, and I ended up in law school. And I ended up being Sarah’s mom.