Look for the Helpers

 "Always look for the helpers," she'd tell me. "You will always find people who

are helping." I did, and I came to see that the world is full of doctors and nurses, police and firemen, volunteers, neighbors, and friends who are ready to jump in to help when things go wrong.

-      Fred Rogers

"I should probably make masks for us," I selfishly mused a few weeks ago as my daughter and I went on what would be one of our last in-store Target runs. It seemed practical: making fabric masks would keep us as safe as possible from COVID-19. While they would not keep the virus entirely out, it would prevent us from spreading it if we coughed or sneezed in public. It would also reduce the dwindling supply of medical-grade masks needed for health professionals from being used by well-meaning citizens. The front line of this crisis was being fought in hospitals whose supplies were sorely inadequate for the potential onslaught. Home-made face coverings were one away to help solve the problem.

 The disturbing ramifications of the potentially lethal virus and alarming reports of infections and deaths were coming in daily from Italy, Spain, and other parts of Europe, as well as New York, California, and Washington State. The state of Georgia would soon have to shelter in place with only the occasional trips to the grocery store for supplies. I kept a calm face but felt terrified that my family might experience a significant health crisis during a pandemic that had no precedent in our lifetime. But I was determined to at least make us a few masks to keep us safe.

I took out my Singer Sewing machine and placed it on my work desk. This machine had been used for years for holiday projects and memory quilts to send to my brothers and sisters for Christmas. Now it took on a more profound significance. I prayed it would help me make at least a few masks for my family and neighbors. I went on-line to find a YouTube tutorial that offered a thorough how-to on making pleated surgical masks. Rummaging through my vast inventory of quilt fabric, I discovered that I had enough material to produce 100 face-coverings. There was enough elastic to make 10 complete masks and quilt strips to make bias tape straps to complete the others.  Finally, my procrastination was coming in handy. There was a Facebook group making face coverings for medical staff who were finding it impossible to order enough masks for the mushrooming demand across the country. The group asked people who could sew to help the hospitals and people who serve on the front lines combating the virus.

Suddenly, I went from frightened and powerless to activated. If you had told me a six months ago that the yards of quilt fabric mocking me in my sewing basket would become surgical masks, I would have politely inquired on the amount of crack you had been smoking. The overestimation of my quilting abilities gave me the resources needed to make a difference. These brightly colored squares of fabric were a perfect size, and the flannel backing was what the medical community preferred for a thicker layer of added protection.

As I kept tabs on where to donate and how fast I could turn around fifty, there were more inspiring posts on the Facebook group. One included a woman whose 89-year old grandmother had made 100 masks. JOANN fabric offered free kits that you could use to make and donate to local hospitals. If you made masks and dropped them off, JOANN's would distribute them to the places that needed them most. People like me who felt helpless in the face of this epidemic had a purpose that helped them take their minds off the deeply depressing rabbit hole of COVID-19 coverage. I joined the army of Sewistas and Maskateers, ready to make up for the lack of essential equipment needed by the medical soldiers on the front line fighting against the invisible monster.

As I started to look at the news less and focus on making masks more, my mood dramatically improved. I was able to offer a service that would benefit essential workers from the security of my home. In addition to all my Zoom meetings, I found a new focus to get more masks done. After a few days, I realized that creating bias tape from quilt strips took far too long to complete. The ladies on the Facebook page were facing the same dilemma. They suggested cutting up t-shirts as a considerably faster solution to making the side ties. I ordered six white men's XL t-shirts from Target and did a curbside pick-up to be safe. It became a game-changer and helped me complete the first fifty quickly.

The hospitals seemed to be requesting the N-95 shaped masks, which is not the style I was making. I needed to find the right place to donate. The stories about senior care facilities seemed particularly heart wrenching. My

mother had lived on those types of facilities before she passed away from Parkinson's Disease in 2017. The sight of family members only able to communicate through windows was heart-wrenching to watch. Still, it gave me an idea of who might benefit from the fifty masks I had in stock. I contacted a Senior Care Center that I had donated Adopt-A-Grandparent baskets for Valentine's Day and found that they could use the masks. On the drive over, I reflected how much the world had changed since my daughter Amber and I had been there seven weeks earlier. The activities coordinator that I worked with was beyond thrilled that we brought them masks for the staff and residents who would wear them.  A week later, she requested another 40, which I was able to fill with help from other neighbors after I put a request on the app NextDoor. Two very kind ladies dropped off the items into my mailbox so we could limit our direct contact and get their supplies donated. Again, it was another example of how much people wanted to offer support, they just needed to know how to do it. 

As I kept checking the Facebook page for updates, I saw more amazing offers of help. There were folks with 3-D printers producing bias tape makers or creating plastic N-95 mask patterns and plastic straps that relieved the pressure of elastic from the masks on the ears. There were offers for food medical staff and first responders, people wanting to donate to food banks, etc. In one of my networking groups,  a print shop offered to make free copies of workbooks that teachers could safely distribute to their students who might not have access to a computer or reliable internet. The cold, cynical world of social media less felt menacing as people posted the things they were doing to help.

During a natural disaster like Hurricane Andrew, you could go to help the people affected by volunteering to clear trees, organizing food drives, helping patch roofs, etc. This national disaster asked us to stay at home and keep your distance from your neighbors. You couldn't just go, throw on a t-shirt and sneakers and help. I could sit at my sewing machine and turnout face coverings, but it lacked the human contact of asking how those affected were doing face-to-face.

In the news, there was a new reverence for the medical community,

especially the ones on the front lines treating COVID-19 patients. Essential workers like my daughter, who is a cashier at a supermarket, were also being praised. I made sure that my youngest had masks to wear at work since she was in contact with countless people during her workday. Parents began to greatly appreciate the patience of teachers as their days included lessons and cyberlearning with their children. 

My hope is that we don't forget how little gestures of kindness can mean so much. I remember standing outside my Atlanta workplace with
baby Danielle in a stroller a few days after 9/11 happened. A sudden wave of sadness washed over me. As much as I tried to keep my emotions in check, I started to sob uncontrollably. A woman exited the building and saw my despair. She didn't ask me what the problem was, she instinctively knew. She said nothing and enveloped me into her arms. I returned her embrace as my body trembled. She said softly, "It's going to be okay, honey, we'll get through this." She leaned down and told my daughter that she was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. I never found out who she was – just an angel in human form who lifted me up when I needed it the most.

I think about that now as we try to look beyond this pandemic. I think

about how much we all want to be around each other, to embrace and tell each other everything is going to be okay.  I remember how, after Hurricane Andrew, neighborhoods pulled their meat supplies and had big block BBQs.  Without electricity or refrigeration, things like steaks, chicken, and pork ribs would spoil quickly. Sharing was the best option. There was a communal feeling of support, considering all the destruction around us. The windows were open, and you could hear children playing and laughing and adjusting to this new normal. You saw celebrities in Miami like Harry Casey lead singer of KC and the Sunshine Band directing traffic because he saw the need and filled it. 

You checked on your elderly neighbors to see how they were fairing without AC during those sultry August days in Miami. You put down buckets to catch the water because even months after the hurricane, your roof still leaked and it would impossible to find a contractor to fix it.  But you were grateful that you had a roof. Then as time passed and things got back to normal, the windows closed as the air conditioners generated internal cool breezes. The neighbor that you had some profound conversations with was now someone you smiled and waved at. Sadly, you didn't communicate as much anymore because you had all the comforts of home. Your cable TV and a cold beer beaconed. 

This pandemic does not allow us to be as physically close, but offering a kind word over the phone, social media, or facetime can still provide emotional support. Providing food and encouragement to healthcare or essential workers can do wonders for your psyche as well as making masks for friends, family, and people you will never meet. JOANN Fabrics put forward the goal of 100,000,000 masks, and at this point, the army of Maskateers has completed 71,000,000. In the spirit of Rosie the Riveter – we are being asked if we can do it and we are answering with a resounding YES, WE CAN!

Now when I feel overwhelmed by the pandemic, I look for the helpers. They are all around us – they are us. For my money, that is what really makes America great.

The Martyrdom of Burnt Toast

My birthday is on April 5th and each year my wonderful husband asks me what I would like for my birthday.   My response is usually, "Oh, I don't really need anything -  you and the kids are enough to make me happy."   "Okay," he'll respond, "But I would really like to get you something for your birthday, is there anything you want or need?"   "Really, you don't have to bother," I repeat making seem like I'm not worthy of some type of birthday present and the sad thing is - in a way I believe that's true.   Somehow asking for what I want is scary like I'm not being good and kind if I put my needs first.  It just seems selfish and I know it's bad to be self centered even on the one day of the year when you have permission to let the world revolve around you.   I guess I feel like I'll let God down if I actually speak up - like it's an act of unbridled greed.  Good people don't think of themselves ever - it's not heroic. What I don't realize is that I'm robbing Max of the chance to give me what I want rather then spending time guessing which just leaves him frustrated.   

I can't remember my mother openly declaring that she wanted anything for her birthdays or holidays when I was a kid.   She was the type that always took the last of everything - burnt toast if there wasn't anymore bread to crisp after her five kids had taken the "good" slices.   She'd rarely buy herself something new.  My dad would have me and my sisters (when we were old enough to hit the malls) get her clothes for Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries.   I understand that having to feed and educate five kids took time and resources, but even after the tough times had passed and they had the money to take trips to Greece and Europe, my mother would still sacrifice, still think of herself last, still not ask for what she wanted.   If she visited me and my grown up siblings, she's still ask permission to get the simplest things rather than just getting it - the whole mi casa es su casa (my house is your house) concept was lost on her.  It might have been a generational thing but after telling her frequently that it was okay to get a something to drink - it seemed to be less about being polite and more about giving yourself permission to get what you need. 

Why do women have such a hard time asking for what we want?   Is it that we'll be seen as aggressive or bitchy?  After all Cinderella got Prince Charming by being nice and taking all sorts of crap from her evil step sisters - the original mean girls who were, well - aggressive and bitchy.  So the message is that suffering is virtuous and eventually your goodness will be rewarded with a hot guy on a white horse who will save the day and will give you some sense of redemption.   Really?!  Unfortunately, that's the sort of Disney Princesses many of us grew up with.   Cinderella being nice to her evil stepsisters no matter what they did to her.  Snow White being abused by her wicked Stepmother and answering with a naiveté that almost gets her killed.  Sleeping Beauty just sleeps for 2/3's of the movie while everyone else tries to save her - which really doesn't say empowered woman to me.  I used to explain to Amber when we would see those movies that it's not okay to have anyone treat you badly.   You have to be your own Fairy Godmother and make those opportunities happen for you on your own terms without having to worry about midnight changing everything back to rags.  It's okay to shatter that glass slipper if you can't use it to step forward.  That's why I love Drew Barrymore's - Ever After: A Cinderella Story.  This Cinderella actually cold cocks her evil step sister when she goes too far and she gets the Prince to fall in love with her brain, not just her looks. 

Thankfully, in the mid-1980's the Disney image of the helpless princess changed and brought us heroines who could fend for themselves like: Aerial in The Little Mermaid, Mulan, Belle in Beauty and the Beast, Pocahontas, Jasmin in Aladdin, Titiana in The Frog Princess and Rapunzel inTangled.   Disney has even taken some of the fairy tale characters circa 1950's and earlier and made them more empowered in other cartoon continuations of the story.   But for many women, the damage had already been done.   We want to be good helpers - to put other's needs before our own - because it makes us feel valued - it makes us the go to gals - the ones who will save the day and give beyond a healthy line of demarkation.  Unfortunately modern day evil step people smell that need to be validated and pounce on it the minute they see it.   How many times have you helped out a coworker who had a sob story about not being able to make a deadline because it was everyone else's fault but theirs - after all updating their Twitter and Facebook status with silly YouTube videos isn't going to happen on it's own.   Or agreed to help out at an event a the local PTA or church because you're so good at it and no one else can figure it out.   When you are spread really thin and you want to say no, you're made to feel like you've let the team down even though the team leaves early to hit happy hour while you finish the report - because they know you will literally kill yourself to get it perfectly done.  Seriously, if you died at the copy machine that night, they'd step over your body to make sure that the package went out on time and then would call 911.  I once worked for someone who was a expert in this - he was rarely around to literally do the heavy lifting,  would leave events early to be home with his family, would play in every golf tournament in town for "networking purposes" and was rarely in the office on Fridays.   Yet, if you needed to look after your own personal needs, you weren't being a team player.  This sort of manipulation plays well with people who have delusions of being the hero who can pull victory out of the corporate jaws of defeat.   

So ladies, it's time to throw off  our self imposed shackles of duty and say something we're just not comfortable saying: "No, I'm sorry, but thanks for thinking of me," and leave it at that.   You don't need to explain to your PTA committee or the ladies of the church bazaar why you want your life back, you just need to have the courage to do it . Each time it gets easier so that you pick and choose the projects you want to do.  You can delegate for those work team projects so that the responsibility is on everyone's shoulders and make sure that they are giving progress reports at each staff meeting so you're not hung out to dry at the end.   It's going to feel weird, but in a good way.  You might actually have time to do the things you enjoy doing.  You won't be pissed all the time that you're doing everything for everyone else and not being appreciated.  It will feel good to no longer be the martyr at Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering.   One of my favorite quotes is "Well behaved women never made history."   Doing what everyone else wants you to do keeps you from finding your own path and the hero you need to be - to create the history you can be proud of.   And for God's sake, eat a piece of toast that's not burnt. 

There's a reason why when you fly, the flight attendants tell you that in the event the cabin loses pressure that you need to secure your own oxygen mask first before helping others.  You need to take care of yourself - it's a simple concept that makes sense and yet seems to elude so many of us.   You can't help make the world a better place if you are sick physically or mentally - so it's okay to treat yourself and ask for what you want.   Trust me, God will not be disappointed - in fact he/she will probably say "Thank me, she finally figured it out!"   I know it's not easy and it's a process that I'm working through myself.   But this year for Christmas, when my husband asked me what I wanted - I actually had an answer - "The Wii Just Dance 3 and I'm pretty sure it's on sale at Target," was my immediate reply.   It was that simple.  It was that easy.  He was happy to not have to guess again and I was happy because I really wanted that game.   So Max, for my birthday, I would like to get the Glee Karaoke and Glee Karaoke 2 for Wii.  You can find both on Amazon for less than what I paid for the kid's Glee Karaoke 3 at Christmas.   There - that was not so bad.  In fact, it felt down right heroic.