Discrimination

Once upon a time, the word “discrimination” had a very positive meaning; it indicated the ability to detect differences, sometimes subtle, with great skill. For example, someone with a discriminating palate might be able to tell the difference, blindfolded, between food items with similar texture or feel. Any fan of television cooking “reality” TV has seen Gordon Ramsay administer palate tests of this type to many a would-be chef.

It’s sad what happens to things when government gets involved. A word with a perfectly good meaning like “discrimination” has been perverted to mean nearly the opposite of its original intent. Rather than detecting subtle differences in similar individuals and using this sense to make the best choice, discrimination often involves generalizing people, or even animals, into large groups without taking the time to get to know each enough to make the best decision. Whatever happened to not judging a book by its cover? Even as laws to “protect” us try to turn the meter the other way (with such misguided attempts as “affirmative action”), the person making the choice often uses the most obvious and sometimes least important criterion to exclude entire groups.

The other day while getting most of my news from Facebook (as I do daily), I got a feed that I felt compelled to pass along to all my Facebook friends. It was from an animal advocate page called “Shifting the Odds” and was an article from the online Examiner entitled “Black shelter dogs face tougher odds for adoption”. I had actually become aware of a bias against black dogs quite by accident in St. Louis Missouri, shortly after we adopted our black dog, Jack, who is truly the best dog either of us has ever owned in our lifetimes. The Humane Society started sending us newsletters inviting us to join meetings of something called the Black Dog Club, and making us aware of the bias against black dogs. At the time I thought “how strange” – but let’s face it, people are strange in their choices for “discrimination”, aren’t they? Anyway, after recently sharing the article on my Facebook page, the overwhelming majority of my friends indicated that their experience with black dogs has been quite the opposite; in many cases, a black dog was the best dog they had ever owned. I know that’s true of my own experience with Jack.

My Facebook status proudly lists my employment as “UNEMPLOYED!!!!!” – yes, in all caps with five exclamation points – and everyone who knows me also knows that it’s not necessarily by choice. The fact is that I want very badly to work, preferably for a paycheck, since it costs money to live. But let’s face it: a woman over 50 who is overweight is automatically given certain labels by potential employers. Maybe they don’t know my actual age or weight in the interview, but appearance does give some things away. And while they don’t normally put me on a scale anywhere but the doctor’s office, it’s amazing to me how many job applications REQUIRE date of graduation from college as well as the degree and the institution name. If that doesn’t get them at least close to knowing how old you are, their ability to do basic mathematics is lacking.

Today while driving back from the airport in Orlando, I was “surfing” the AM dial for talk radio that sounded interesting. Along with all the usual dire information about what’s happening to our once-great country, there was an item of personal interest: Employers are showing a tendency to “discriminate” (there’s that word again) against the unemployed when hiring. In a normal economy, I could see their point: if you’re not working, you might just be lazy. But in this economy, there are so very many reasons why a closer look at someone who appears to have been “unemployed” for any length of time could be an excellent choice. Here are three reasons to consider.

1. A person who is living without a paycheck has to get very creative to survive.
Even those of us who have some savings know that we can’t live indefinitely on that without any income, so we do odd jobs like writing or proofreading on Craigslist, or we drive people to the airport for pay.

2. A person who is not working at a job has to figure out ways to structure his or her days to give them meaning.
Contrary to popular belief, there are MANY of us out there who would truly love to have someone giving them money just to show up somewhere and do what they are told for a certain number of hours a day. Imagine the mind-numbing boredom of every week day seeming the same as every weekend. Every day is a vacation – yes – but without any budget to spend on entertainment or diversions. There are only so many hours many of us can scour the internet job boards searching for places we can send resumes and cover letters so that we can be ignored or at best receive those form rejection emails. It’s very hard to stay upbeat under these circumstances.

3. A person who doesn’t have a job might just be more appreciative of being given a job than someone who already has one.
I know in my case, the one paying job that I had for two months got every bit of effort, dedication, reliability, ingenuity and energy that I had to give during the hours I was there. It was a hard decision for me to reach that I just wasn’t able to meet certain performance criteria to the level they demanded, but I certainly gave it my best shot.

The bottom line for employers should be this: Ask those probing questions to discover the reason for the long term unemployment before assuming the worst. A person who bought a small business that turned out not to make the income that the prior owner indicated, and then worked very hard to make it something much better, but still didn’t make a living at it, may have learned some extremely valuable life lessons during his or her time of unemployment. Look beneath the surface and you might find your next great employee: well-rounded, hard working, and extremely grateful to be hired.

One More Obstacle

Shortly after we moved here and I started going barefoot some ridiculously large percentage of the time, I began having occasional foot pain. At the time, I shrugged it off along with a lot of other pains encountered while cleaning, treating it with ibuprofen when necessary. When you want to keep floors clean of sand and your eyesight isn’t all that great (even with contact lenses and good lighting), it’s very useful to be barefoot when you clean them. Besides, this is Florida, it’s usually hot, and who wants the constriction of shoes?

During the summer, we have had the Bed & Breakfast shut down for conservation purposes. After last summer, with the very minimum number of occasional paying guests and their desire to have the two “best” guest rooms in this old house (with windows on three sides and only one air conditioning vent) chilled to the comfy low 70’s, we decided that maybe it would be more cost effective to close off the upstairs entirely and the two of us live downstairs with higher thermostat settings. Sure enough, where last summer’s electric bills approached $500 monthly, this summer’s bills have been under $200. So we are probably saving more money than we would have taken in, had we remained “fully open” all summer.

However, there is another hidden cost of being closed for business (other than the fact that we are both bored out of our minds). When I am not having to do daily, constant aerobic house cleaning, my weight tends to, um, get out of control. Combine with that the fact that I was off my thyroid meds for several months (I was hoping to get health insurance on a short-lived job so I could see a “real” doctor, as opposed to the county health clinic where us po’ folk go) and the 10-plus additional pounds on the scale make perfect sense. I’m not happy about them, but they do make sense.

In the absence of a bunch of housecleaning to keep me active, I had started once again walking daily on the treadmill while watching recorded episodes of Dr. Phil. Between the untimely death of our prior DVR, losing many of my beloved saved shows, and the summer rerun season, it was hard enough to get motivated to walk daily, and when I did get motivated, perhaps I walked overenthusiastically to “make up for” the days I hadn’t. But during the past week or so, after one particularly enthusiastic walking session, the foot pain has become a real hindrance to my spending any more time than necessary on my feet.

So off I went to the other “po’ folks doctor” besides the county clinic – the internet – for a diagnosis. It’s called “Metatarsalgia” and is more commonly known as “pain in the ball of the foot”. It is in fact aggravated by the following: wearing improper footwear (these New Balance are ones I bought in 2009 before leaving St. Louis so admittedly they have a few miles on them); fast walking or any activity causing impact on the foot; going barefoot; and last but not least, being over “a healthy weight”. Well, yeah, the last time I was by anyone’s definition a “healthy weight” was either briefly in 2003, or back in late 80’s, depending on your definition of “healthy weight”. That was the whole reason I was on the treadmill!

This morning I was indulging in my current favorite sport, shuffleboard, which can usually be played without creating or aggravating physical injury. And for the second time, I, by far the youngest person in the shuffleboard club, was the exception to that rule (the prior time was when my back flared up and I had to stop playing a few weeks ago). How embarrassing is that? I made it all the way through the first two matches without any pain, and was actually playing well. Third match, not so lucky, and it distracted me enough that my game was off more than usual. But I tried to be a good sport and not call attention to my “issue”. On the way out of the shuffleboard courts to the car, however, Stu asked me “do you want to stop somewhere and see if you can get something for your foot?” I guess I can no longer call him Mr. Oblivious because he, on a completely different court on the other side, had observed my limping slightly – that must be love or something.

We went to CVS and I purchased a pair of Dr. Scholl inserts for my shoes of choice. Since they already contained some drug store insole inserts for foot pain, I had to tape them to the inserts already there since they wouldn’t stick any other way. But hopefully they will prevent pain during shuffleboard. If I have to give up my shuffleboard someone might very well have to put me out of my (their) misery because it’s the one thing I can look forward to at least twice a week.

It does, however, look like for the time being at least, my “fitness walking” days are over. And this is truly a shame, because it is the one free aerobic exercise available to me, the chronically overweight woman. So here I am, no job, no health insurance, no income, overweight, and now no fitness walking. I now have one more obstacle between me and my ideal life. But those among us who appreciate clichés will undoubtedly snap back something like “God never gives us more than we can handle” or “When God closes a door, he opens a window”.

With that in mind, my next plan is to get very creative about a very structured food plan for myself and possibly Stu (who will admit that he too could stand to lose some weight). Without spending actual money to re-join (for the fourth time) Weight Watchers, I am going to have to start measuring and counting calories again, which I dread but I also know I must do. At this point, especially without regular doctor visits, I know that keeping my weight as low as possible is literally a matter of my life or death. Will I succeed, or will I again go from my current 180 pounds back to the treacherous 205 that I maintained during my most stressful years, working full time and caring for family? That depends on my willpower, my creativity, staying out of debilitating mental depression, and the grace of God. Stay tuned.