I remember when I found out I was pregnant with Nick; Jake was 2 years old then and I did wonder... I had heard many people say that they were worried how they could possibly begin to love another child when their hearts overflowed with love for their first child. And, can you love each child equally? I think that each person has to answer those questions for herself, but what I can tell you, from personal experience is that, when they put Nick on my chest and when I held him for the first time, I never again wondered. I realized that I wouldn't love them equally from the same place in my heart because when he was born, my heart grew bigger; a new piece was created just for him. And 6 years later, it grew again, only this time, for a new baby boy, Ty. I was thinking about this idea as I reread a book, in preparation for class on Tuesday and in reminiscing about last Sunday, when I ran the Los Angeles Marathon for AIDS Project. My heart keeps growing larger and with it, more friendships and experiences, more moments of pure joy and love and, more reasons to continue to try and make a real difference in people's lives.
Aura Imbarus is a teacher. She is an intellectual, beautiful, giving and, she has suffered. But out of her trials, she has emerged victorious because she controls her own destiny. She saw her way out of oppression and, despite some of the most difficult choices that a human being might have to make in the course of one lifetime, she relied on herself, on her strength and determination, on her will and desire to achieve what she wanted. And for that, for her sheer desire, I have the utmost respect for her. She makes a difference in people's lives, every day and, whether she realizes it or not, she has made a difference in mine.
Scott Boliver is a coach. He is also a husband and a father and a dedicated, selfless man. And, his health issues aside, which are difficult to overlook, when you are around Scott, you feel inspired. I feel inspired. I remember when he came to one of our Sunday runs a couple of years ago in Griffith park; his presence was dynamic. It seemed that everyone not only knew who he was, but they wanted to see him, hug him, talk to him. And now, after having been able to, even at a minimum, train around Scott, it is clearly evident why that is the case. He is a believer; he believes in the strength and in the courage and in the determination of people and he brings out the best in us; he brought it out in me. And now, he continues to fight his own personal battle, but alongside him, he carries the love and support of hundreds who want him desperately to be well, to succeed in this long battle. Despite it all, Scott shows up, he cares and he has made a real difference in my life.
Running a marathon is preparation for anything that you might want to accomplish in your life. I should qualify that; preparing, training for a marathon is preparation... running the race is a journey in and of itself - the party that you've been waiting months to see come to fruition. Maybe that is why there is a let down after it is over. It takes months to prepare and it is emotional. Meeting new friends and carrying one another through the tough miles and through the tears, and, there are always tears, one gets the feeling that a marathon might not only be the toughest preparation for life, but the most exhilarating as well. This marathon was my favorite, aside from my first, which will always hold special significance for me; this race was about experiencing everything and I felt like I did. It was fun. It was emotional. It was wonderful. Running marathons, and this one in particular, has made a real difference in my life.
I'd like to think that there are many groups of people like those who work for APLA and, of course, there are and I'm not just talking about fundraising, but I'd like to think that after the fundraising is done, that these other groups stay together, that they continue to communicate with one another, to send emails and to share photos and to sign up for more races together just because they want the experience to continue. The thing is, I don't think that there are. I've run marathons for other charities and I've enjoyed the process and the races, but APLA feels like home. The runners and the coaches, the volunteers, the site assistants and everyone who must work in the offices including the last mail person or person working behind a desk; these people are my heroes. These people have enriched my life in a way that the births of each of my sons have. Their dedication to a cause that is bigger than all of us, the love and support that they have for one another and for those who they will never meet is awe inspiring. These are people who I will carry with me for the rest of my life, people who smiled at me on some Saturday mornings, people who have asked me to run with them again, people who introduced me to their parents, their lovers, their families, who have invited me into their homes...these people have made a real difference in my life.
AIDS first appeared on the scene, in my life, when I was in high school. It was terrifying and eventually, devastating. Knowing lovely people who suffered and then who lost their battles with this disease gave me a profound desire to do... something. And, it still does. I've said it many times; there is not a person alive who does not deserve to be treated with dignity, just for the mere fact that they are human beings. Not everyone realizes this, sadly and that is why APLA has become a beacon of hope for so many people; I am convinced that is why so many people participate in programs that have evolved from this organization. There is a real sense of belonging, of hope and of peace that comes from this community. And, honestly, although I wish with all of my heart that there was no need for APLA, I am thankful that they found me or that I found them. Either way, the money that I raise helps and it is an ultimate good, but it is not enough. And so, I will always contribute to their cause; I will always carry their message to others in how I live my life. They have made me want to be better and, so, I am better. AIDS is its own marathon and the people who work for APLA are those who line the streets, holding out oranges, giving out hugs, making the journey as light as they can.
I'm a romantic; I don't deny it. I'm in love with life, with people, with new adventures. Is it possible to be an idealist and a realist? I guess if I consider myself to be a Christian and a Buddhist, then I suppose so. Either way, I hope for the best now; I didn't always think that way, but I do now. And hoping for the best has made a real difference in my life.
Life has brought me a friendship with Aura Imbarus and inspiration in a new coach, Scott Boliver. Life has also brought me membership into the APLA community, of which I will always be a part. My heart continues to grow...
Friday, March 23, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
And so...
"Do you know someone who has died from AIDS?" I get that question, some might say frequently, at least in my recent attempts at fundraising and, although I do, several actually, I find that question interesting and...annoying. I suppose that it has a purpose, I mean I am running the marathon and I am asking for money for a specific cause; there must be a reason behind it right? Maybe they just want to know the reason and I'm reading too much into it or, maybe, just maybe, I've had one too many run in's with people who don't want to give because it is for a certain cause and THAT I find reprehensible. I actually had one woman, who shall remain anonymous, ask me to whom the money was going directly? Did I know? What was it being used for? Was it distributed "equally?" What do I look like lady, the Director. I mean, I answered her questions to the best of my ability, but there was something suspicious about her behavior, something about the way that she hounded me and then, nothing. She never made a donation. I chalked it up to she just didn't have the funds, but deep down, I felt that it was that "other thing;" that thing that people don't want to acknowledge in themselves because others would call them on it. It was that thing that makes people fearful and shallow, without compassion. It doesn't have a specific name, but it feeds on ignorance and fear. Some people say it is homophobia, some say discrimination, some just roll their eyes like they expect that kind of behavior and maybe they are justified in doing so. AIDS has been around for 30 years this year and there is still a stigma associated with it; ask people who are running for the cause, many of them used to feel one way about the disease and about the cause and now, through many changes in their lives, some of their own volition and some just coincidental, they have a broader and a deeper understanding of those who live with this diagnosis and ultimately, this disease. It's not rocket science here, it's the recognition that if you stand for human rights, then that includes ALL humans, not just the ones who meet your standards or your criteria.
I also have to say that the "God" issue really bothers me. I'm a Christian, a Catholic actually, but I tend to say Christian in a general way. I don't go to church on a regular basis, at least not right now and I tend to now lean more toward a Buddhist way of thinking. What bothers me about this notion is when people speak on behalf of "God" and how they seem to feel justified in using "God" as an explanation for their hatred, their prejudice and their downright fear. I think that the religious right are some of the most fiercely judgmental and least "Christian" people I have ever had the displeasure to hear or to know. Religion should never justify intolerance or violence. Religion is organized theology and people, while they have every right to believe and to practice what they want, I do not feel that any single human being has the right to judge another human being on the basis of race, creed, sexual preference, lifestyle and, of course, other categories which I'm too tired to list or to think of at the moment, but you get the general idea. On the other hand, I find that many of the people whom I've known, who I would have thought to be the most judgmental, have ended up being the biggest proponents of the cause and the biggest supporters of endeavors like the marathon.
I'm not kidding myself; I'm not all that smart nor do I pretend to know politics. But I listen and I follow a certain credo when it comes to how and what I believe and I have reasons for all of it. How I feel about certain issues are based on my core value system; part of that came from how I was raised and a larger part of that came from getting out in the world, growing up, interacting with people and formulating my own way of seeing the world. But it all comes back to one thing, one simple thing; I love people. I can't help it. My name is Yvette and I love people. Yes, they piss me off and I hate slow drivers and I can't stand it when students don't do what I say or when Jake forgets to take out the trash, but, alas, I digress...
Sometimes when I'm driving, I have had a rather morbid thought cross my mind. I start thinking of my own funeral and as I imagine it, I think about who would come to the service and, more importantly, what they would say. I think about Tim and my sons and it makes me sad and fearful for a few minutes, but this exercise isn't really about them, it's about what people would say about me and is that in line with how I live my life? Is what they say representative of the kind of human being that I was; did they get the point? I used to have a lot of regrets, but they mostly concerned little things and a lot of them focused on events or incidents from my youth when I was either too ignorant (ah hah) or too afraid (we're on to something here) to do anything to change my ideas. But what I've come to realize now is that all anyone, at my funeral or anywhere else for that matter, who wanted to know what kind of person I was or am; all that person would have to do is look at the people who are a part of my life, the people who I have chosen to surround myself with and who I call my family. In the last few years especially, I have changed so much. I think that I was always poised on the precipice of change, but I needed something or someone to push me and interestingly, that push came in the form of a marathon. Now, when I look back though, I realize, it was never about the running. It was always about the people.
As much as I want my life to mean something and as much as I want my children to grow up to be selfless, altruistic, giving human beings, more than anything, I would like for the judgment to stop. Thinking back to my "God" reference; I believe that, in the end, when I stand before my maker and I am asked to justify why I lived my life the way I did, well, I hope that I can and I hope that it will be enough because in the end, all I have are the choices that I made and that I continue to make and one of those choices is how I treat other human beings. It's not about politics or economics; it's about the most basic civilities. Were you the type of kid who excluded other kids? Did you name call? Did you pick on or bully other kids? Do you still? Some behaviors we outgrow and, sadly, some of those behaviors manifest themselves into ways of thinking and pretty soon, they become our core values.
I find myself at a crossroads all the time when it comes to issues. I have strong opinions and beliefs about how things should be but I often let my actions and behaviors speak for me. I'm not one to stand on a soapbox and if you've been reading any of this blog, this particular one is a bit unusual in that respect. I'm not a preacher. I tend to just write what I think and then I either let it go or I hold it close to my heart. That's it. I guess I've just had to hear the word "Fag" come out of one too many mouths. And in case you're wondering, I say something to the person who said it every single time. The other day it was at work and it was a student, not my student but one who was in the hall. I don't know the exact context in which he used it, but does it matter. I just said, "Hey, do not use language like that." I know, I sounded like a mother, but I am a mother. The kid looked so shocked that I wasn't sure if I should say anything else and then, surprisingly he muttered, "Oh sorry" but I was already walking toward the door. I'm not even sure why he said he was sorry because I bet my life he said it again in the next few breaths after I left.
I get tired of the way that people insult other people. I mean, I'll take a shot at someone, no holds barred, if I feel like it's justified, but the difference is that I don't make it an issue of race or creed, sometimes I do of gender but that's only because I've been married to a MAN for 18 years and we all know, homo or hetero here, that that ain't an easy thing to do (I hope you're smiling at that). I used to be afraid of a lot of things, of a lot of how people thought and what they thought of me and now, now I'm no longer afraid and if you ask me, I'm going to tell you. If you want to know if I know anyone who has died from AIDS, sadly, I will say yes and that that is part of the reason why I am running. But more than that and what I'd really like you to remember and my real answer to that question is, I'm running for AIDS Project because I, like the other 200 runners who will run this year, and, like all the other alumni who've run and for all those who will run in the future, we, believe that there will be a cure and that AIDS will no longer exist. And we believe that no one should have to suffer and there are many who suffer, probably more than you know, regardless of who they are and where they live and how they got this horrific disease. None of that matters; these are human beings who need our help and it is our duty and our obligation to help them. And if they do die, when many of them do die, I like to think that all of us want each of them to pass on with the utmost dignity and with the love of other people and that the person who stands beside them in that moment or who holds their hand will look at them with the kindness and respect that they deserve. That is what I hope. And so... Why do you run for APLA?
I run for APLA because it is an organization that is devoted to the belief that every single human being has the right to live, to be loved and, to receive whatever help they need in order to insure the highest quality of life. I run for them because the people who I've met these past few years who work for APLA and who run for them are some of the finest, kindest, most giving people I have ever known. I run for APLA because they graciously allow me to, so, thank you, universe, God, Karma... thank you for bringing me into their fold. I have benefited the most from our relationship and this Sunday, on March 18th, I will proudly wear my T2 singlet and I will remember every single step that I take as a step that has both brought me here and that will, simultaneously, carry me forward.
Thank you Kevin and Scott, Tom and Ashley, the Bolivers and to all of the other volunteers, coaches, support team and to the runners, thank you for giving me a new direction, one that I will follow passionately. The marathon approaches... T2 2012.
I also have to say that the "God" issue really bothers me. I'm a Christian, a Catholic actually, but I tend to say Christian in a general way. I don't go to church on a regular basis, at least not right now and I tend to now lean more toward a Buddhist way of thinking. What bothers me about this notion is when people speak on behalf of "God" and how they seem to feel justified in using "God" as an explanation for their hatred, their prejudice and their downright fear. I think that the religious right are some of the most fiercely judgmental and least "Christian" people I have ever had the displeasure to hear or to know. Religion should never justify intolerance or violence. Religion is organized theology and people, while they have every right to believe and to practice what they want, I do not feel that any single human being has the right to judge another human being on the basis of race, creed, sexual preference, lifestyle and, of course, other categories which I'm too tired to list or to think of at the moment, but you get the general idea. On the other hand, I find that many of the people whom I've known, who I would have thought to be the most judgmental, have ended up being the biggest proponents of the cause and the biggest supporters of endeavors like the marathon.
I'm not kidding myself; I'm not all that smart nor do I pretend to know politics. But I listen and I follow a certain credo when it comes to how and what I believe and I have reasons for all of it. How I feel about certain issues are based on my core value system; part of that came from how I was raised and a larger part of that came from getting out in the world, growing up, interacting with people and formulating my own way of seeing the world. But it all comes back to one thing, one simple thing; I love people. I can't help it. My name is Yvette and I love people. Yes, they piss me off and I hate slow drivers and I can't stand it when students don't do what I say or when Jake forgets to take out the trash, but, alas, I digress...
Sometimes when I'm driving, I have had a rather morbid thought cross my mind. I start thinking of my own funeral and as I imagine it, I think about who would come to the service and, more importantly, what they would say. I think about Tim and my sons and it makes me sad and fearful for a few minutes, but this exercise isn't really about them, it's about what people would say about me and is that in line with how I live my life? Is what they say representative of the kind of human being that I was; did they get the point? I used to have a lot of regrets, but they mostly concerned little things and a lot of them focused on events or incidents from my youth when I was either too ignorant (ah hah) or too afraid (we're on to something here) to do anything to change my ideas. But what I've come to realize now is that all anyone, at my funeral or anywhere else for that matter, who wanted to know what kind of person I was or am; all that person would have to do is look at the people who are a part of my life, the people who I have chosen to surround myself with and who I call my family. In the last few years especially, I have changed so much. I think that I was always poised on the precipice of change, but I needed something or someone to push me and interestingly, that push came in the form of a marathon. Now, when I look back though, I realize, it was never about the running. It was always about the people.
As much as I want my life to mean something and as much as I want my children to grow up to be selfless, altruistic, giving human beings, more than anything, I would like for the judgment to stop. Thinking back to my "God" reference; I believe that, in the end, when I stand before my maker and I am asked to justify why I lived my life the way I did, well, I hope that I can and I hope that it will be enough because in the end, all I have are the choices that I made and that I continue to make and one of those choices is how I treat other human beings. It's not about politics or economics; it's about the most basic civilities. Were you the type of kid who excluded other kids? Did you name call? Did you pick on or bully other kids? Do you still? Some behaviors we outgrow and, sadly, some of those behaviors manifest themselves into ways of thinking and pretty soon, they become our core values.
I find myself at a crossroads all the time when it comes to issues. I have strong opinions and beliefs about how things should be but I often let my actions and behaviors speak for me. I'm not one to stand on a soapbox and if you've been reading any of this blog, this particular one is a bit unusual in that respect. I'm not a preacher. I tend to just write what I think and then I either let it go or I hold it close to my heart. That's it. I guess I've just had to hear the word "Fag" come out of one too many mouths. And in case you're wondering, I say something to the person who said it every single time. The other day it was at work and it was a student, not my student but one who was in the hall. I don't know the exact context in which he used it, but does it matter. I just said, "Hey, do not use language like that." I know, I sounded like a mother, but I am a mother. The kid looked so shocked that I wasn't sure if I should say anything else and then, surprisingly he muttered, "Oh sorry" but I was already walking toward the door. I'm not even sure why he said he was sorry because I bet my life he said it again in the next few breaths after I left.
I get tired of the way that people insult other people. I mean, I'll take a shot at someone, no holds barred, if I feel like it's justified, but the difference is that I don't make it an issue of race or creed, sometimes I do of gender but that's only because I've been married to a MAN for 18 years and we all know, homo or hetero here, that that ain't an easy thing to do (I hope you're smiling at that). I used to be afraid of a lot of things, of a lot of how people thought and what they thought of me and now, now I'm no longer afraid and if you ask me, I'm going to tell you. If you want to know if I know anyone who has died from AIDS, sadly, I will say yes and that that is part of the reason why I am running. But more than that and what I'd really like you to remember and my real answer to that question is, I'm running for AIDS Project because I, like the other 200 runners who will run this year, and, like all the other alumni who've run and for all those who will run in the future, we, believe that there will be a cure and that AIDS will no longer exist. And we believe that no one should have to suffer and there are many who suffer, probably more than you know, regardless of who they are and where they live and how they got this horrific disease. None of that matters; these are human beings who need our help and it is our duty and our obligation to help them. And if they do die, when many of them do die, I like to think that all of us want each of them to pass on with the utmost dignity and with the love of other people and that the person who stands beside them in that moment or who holds their hand will look at them with the kindness and respect that they deserve. That is what I hope. And so... Why do you run for APLA?
I run for APLA because it is an organization that is devoted to the belief that every single human being has the right to live, to be loved and, to receive whatever help they need in order to insure the highest quality of life. I run for them because the people who I've met these past few years who work for APLA and who run for them are some of the finest, kindest, most giving people I have ever known. I run for APLA because they graciously allow me to, so, thank you, universe, God, Karma... thank you for bringing me into their fold. I have benefited the most from our relationship and this Sunday, on March 18th, I will proudly wear my T2 singlet and I will remember every single step that I take as a step that has both brought me here and that will, simultaneously, carry me forward.
Thank you Kevin and Scott, Tom and Ashley, the Bolivers and to all of the other volunteers, coaches, support team and to the runners, thank you for giving me a new direction, one that I will follow passionately. The marathon approaches... T2 2012.
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