gLeek pt. 2

I had some people wondering how I would react to this week's episode of Glee, given my revelation of being a gLeek. So here's what I thought:

It brought me to tears.

And that is a great thing! I love that the show focused on characters who are different in "Wheels." So often, those characters get tossed aside as being "token," and no effort is really made to understand the characters, their backstories, their emotions. It would have been so easy for Glee to do the same thing. After all, by virtue of being in glee club, the characters are already outcasts. What need was there to examine the outcasts within the outcasts?

On a personal level, I feel a connection with Kevin McHale's character, Artie. Knowing that McHale isn't actually paralyzed has the potential of taking away from the show and the character itself. Somehow, however, that isn't the case. McHale manages to embody Artie fully, embracing Artie's struggles and pains as his own. That's a mark of a great actor.

Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan outdid themselves with this episode in my opinion. "Dancing With Myself" was the perfect song choice for Artie's first solo. It completely encapsulates the isolation kids with disabilities so often feel in the high school setting. I remember long years ago, when I was in high school, realizing that the people who called themselves my friends simply didn't "get" it. They wouldn't have understood how they were being insensitive by expecting me to find my own ride to a field trip and assuming that I was "okay with it," like Artie's fellow glee-ers in the episode.

And let's not forget Tina's betrayal of Artie. And, yes, it is betrayal. Oftentimes, people connect due to shared experiences. Artie feel perpetually outcast and has found in Tina someone, he thinks, can finally understand his unique perspective only to discover her side of their shared experience was faked. Heart breaking.

If you're looking for a way to make people understand what it's like to be different, have them watch "Wheels." If they get it, great. If they don't...they never will.

PS. If only more people were like Mr. Schu!
PPS. Sue has a heart! OMG!

E Disharmony

I've known a few people who have filled out eharmony.com's personality test and are considered to be one of the minuscule percent the web site cannot match. Sure, that's frustrating, but at least they aren't being repeatedly rejected - like me.

I know I'm running the risk of sounding bitter and desperate (and a few other choice adjectives) but it is upsetting to be rejected by no fewer than 10 different men a day. Most of them choose the same reason, too: "Other."

When a person chooses to "close" a match on eharmony, he is given a list of reasons as to why the match doesn't work. These range from "I don't feel the chemistry is there" to "The physical distance between us is too great" to the infamous "Other." I get an inordinate amount of matches that choose "Other."

I don't lie or omit facts when I fill out these profiles, which means I always come out and 'fess up to the fact that I use a wheelchair. I don't make a big deal of it, because it isn't a big deal. I just state the simple fact and expect a certain amount of guys to be immediately turned off by the fact. But, the number is staggering.

I've used eharmony before, with similar results. I waffle back and forth as to whether or not finding "love" online is the path for me. I give it a shot, because, really, have I got anything to lose? Maybe I don't put enough faith in the process because I don't truly feel like the man of my dreams is waiting behind a computer screen. But I'd like to at least be given a chance.

Every time I click "Read Closed message" and see "Other," a little part of me withers. I know that the "Other" means one of two things: One is that I'm not sexy/cute/hot/thin/whatever enough. The second is that a guy got scared off by the chair.

At least I'm trying. I've tried to start communication with men that I wasn't especially attracted to because something in their profile interested me. In the online dating world, "Why not?" maybe our saving grace.

I've ended my subscription to eharmony, because I'm tired of being rejected on such a regular basis. It's hard enough going out in the world and have guys stare at you for the wrong reason. Why compound the difficulty by seeking it out? If eharmony and its ilk work for you, great!

Then again, maybe honesty has no place on the Internet.

gLeek

Based on the evidence, I should probably hate Fox's new show Glee. In the first handful of episodes, Artie, the paralyzed character played by Kevin McHale, has been subjected to torture and innumerable insults. He was locked in a porta-john by jocks who then were on the brink of tipping said john over before Artie was rescued by fellow jock (and new show choir find) Finn. In subsequent episodes, he is referred to as crippled, half a person (as in 5 and a half people), and is generally treated as "less than".

Contrary to all that, I LOVE Glee! It's a great mix of comedy and absurd soap-opera-like drama, with a lovely dash of musical theatre. What isn't to like?

Of course, I get angry when Artie suffers such abuses. But my anger isn't directed at the show; my anger is directed at the real people who inspire these insufferable characters. Because, we all know, they are out there.

As cheerleading Nazi Sue Sylvester, Jane Lynch has the distinct honor of playing the most prejudiced character on the show. It was she who referred to Artie as "and a half" in counting the number of show choir kids. Some critics might find her blunt honesty and political incorrectness refreshing, and, in its own way, it is. I'm sure we've all seen a few Nazi-like cheerleading coaches in our day; Sue revels in that distinction. Let's face it, though: The thoughts she voices about Artie and the glee kids in general are downright disgusting.

But, there are people who think like that. If we're lucky, they are aware enough of how unpleasant their behavior is to be ashamed and therefore keep their attitudes hidden. We aren't always lucky.

If anything, I think the ruder characters of Glee are a great mirror of society. If a watcher gets incensed by Sue's description of Artie as half a person, maybe that will open his eyes to the issues of the disabled community at large.

Frankly, I think it's about time a wheelchair user is a major part of an ensemble like Glee. The fact that he's a high school student is even better! Anyone who used a wheelchair during their high school years knows what a tough road that can be. Not only that, but he's in show choir, universally acknowledged as not exactly "cool."

Artie, as a person, could choose to fade into the woodwork. He could choose to avoid drawing extra attention to himself. After all, chair users get enough unwanted attention as it is. But, he doesn't; Artie does what he loves, the mire of high school hierarchy be damned!

I hope we see some Artie-centric story lines soon. We've seen how tough high school can be for the closeted gay kid. It's time to unearth some of those speed bumps Artie hits.

Scorin' Brownie Points

Brad Paisley's new video Welcome to the Future is scorin' some serious points here at B&B. Check it out below.

Stupid Should Hurt

This picture was attached in an email I received - one of those Pray for our Troops type email. I'm all for the troops, but I am so against the people in this photograph.

Does anyone realize that this kind of thinking is exactly why our world is in the state it's in? Honestly, the entire country was being punished by God for homosexuality? Somehow, I don't think so.

That's not the God I believe in. In fact, I'd wager that's not the God most people believe in. He isn't going to mete out disaster to the entire population for the wrongdoing of one. That's like casting us all into Hell, when every Christian will tell you that's not what's going to happen. And, for the record, 9/11 was not an action of God; it was an action of MAN.

It makes me beyond angry to know that there are people in the world like these women pictured. Recently, at Concord Mills Mall in North Carolina, a kiosk owner lost his lease, ostensibly for selling offensive conservative materials. What sticks in my mind is a news image of a protester screaming that the mall found opinions "offensive."

I just wanted to shake her and say, "Guess what, lady! Some opinions are offensive." It's why the general population of the world eschews racism and misogyny, hate speech and the burning of crosses on front lawns.

We've all probably heard the idiom, "I don't agree with what you say, but I'll defend your right to say it." Actually, um, no, I won't. I will not defend your right to label people. I will not defend your right to provoke intolerance. I will not defend your right to verbally attack individuals who do not proscribe to your way of thinking. Why? Because these are not rights. None of the above is outlined in the Constitution or the Bill of Rights. The idea of Free Speech has been perverted into an idea that the world is a free-for-all, where any idiot can spout off at the mouth without consequence!

Don't believe me? Just look at the picture again.

Take a Second "Look"

Did you hear about this one? Evidently, a London employee of Abercrombie & Fitch was demoted once her bosses discovered she had a prosthetic arm. Apparently, this violates AF's "look" policy.

The employee is suing, thankfully, and she'll likely get whatever it is she asks for. This is discrimination in its most disgusting form. She doesn't look as someone else thinks she should, therefore she is relegated - Quasimodo style - to the stockroom, away from the prying eyes of the so-called beautiful people who frequent the store.

I don't shop AF. I'm not stick thin enough to squeeze into their clothes. But if you do, I hope this makes you want to stop shopping there. Full out boycott! Imagine if you wanted a job with AF but you use a chair or have a noticeable limp or some other visible disability. Do you think you would be hired?

This article lays out the terms of AF's "look" policy. Disabilities and prosthetic arms are not explicitly mentioned, but they clearly would violate the policy's lily-white terms. I find it ironic that the policy wants staff to express individuality, but that the other terms make that virtually impossible.

The doorway to the world of Abercrombie & Fitch is less admitting than the gates of Heaven to a rich man. It is beyond pathetic in this day and age that working retail comes with the same set of visual standards as being a movie star. Of course, an actress with a prosthetic arm probably wouldn't be shunted behind the scenes.

Fragile

I knew that reading Jodi Picoult's new novel, Handle With Care, would be a rough ride for me, but I didn't expect to begin shedding tears from practically the first page.

Handle With Care focuses on a family whose youngest daughter, Willow, is born with osteogenesis imperfecta (brittle bone disease). Picoult writes from the point of view of several of the main characters, but only from Willow's at the novel's end. While I understand the purpose of this technique - after all, this book is not really about Willow but about the lives she touches - I feel that Picoult missed out on dealing with what could have been a very interesting and complex character.

The book mainly focuses on a lawsuit that is central to the story and the disintegration of the central family from the points of view of the mother, father, elder daughter, mother's best friend and a lawyer. Readers must handle the emotions of these characters - especially the O'Keefe family - as they suffer with Willow through the course of over 70 broken bones in the course of her short life (she is 6 in the book).

What affected me most in reading this book is acutely recognizing the situations that Willow was in. The slightest twitch, an incident that wouldn't faze a "normal" child, is a devastation for her. I've been there. I've broken bones without even moving. I have spent months in body casts, propped up on pillows, desperate to be comfortable. I have watched my friends and family do things I could never even dream of attempting.

I have also gone beyond what anyone ever expected of me. I have not just broken but shattered barriers trying to keep me from having a normal life. I have proved myself intelligent, compassionate, loving and lovable, just as Willow does.

Picoult did an excellent job in expressing the emotions of Amelia, Willow's sister, who feels pushed by the wayside by her sister's disability. I most often cried when reading Amelia's perspective, because she put voice to the way I have often feared my younger sister felt about me. Yes, there is love, but there is also anger, resentment, a feeling of mattering less. Amelia's spiral into depression is a poignant look at what it means to be sibling to a child with a severe impairment.

What Picoult does masterfully in Handle With Care is raise questions that are difficult for us to face: What constitutes a life worth living? What does it mean to a family to have a member with a disability? How does it affect us? The worst - or perhaps best - thing is that these questions cannot really be answered. The definition of a worthy life is different in everyone's dictionary. Families are built differently, some able to handle more than others and more successfully.

It also made me look at my parents differently. If they had had the opportunity to know before my birth about my OI, would they have acted differently? My fear has always been that the answer would be "yes," but really I have no idea. By not writing from Willow's perspective, Picoult missed the opportunity to explore the psyche of the disabled child. I can only speak for myself, from my own experiences, but disabled children carry a lot of guilt. We wonder how our loved ones' lives would be different if we were different. Or, more specifically, not different.

We are well aware of the struggles our families face that they might not if we were "normal." Medical bills, mobility and adaptive equipment. And, non-monetarily, the stress of dealing with a child who has severe medical problems. The fissures that can appear in a marriage. No matter how young, children with disabilities are cognizant when that stress takes a toll. When the fights not about "you" are about "you." We know.

On the whole, Handle With Care is an intimate portrait of a family simultaneously drawn together and pulled asunder by having a member with a disability. It adeptly deals with emotions ranging from unconditional love to blinding anger to the sense of loss when life doesn't happen quite the way we plan.

Personally, I was disappointed by the ending, but can't argue that it was unrealistic. I recommend it, but if you are a parent of a child with a disability, have OI or have been close to anyone who does, I suggest reading with a box of tissues by your side.