Category: People

Yesterday, I read an article in Time.com about Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s favorite collars. It reminded me of how much I enjoy origin stories, the ones that trace back to the start of something and explain how the puzzle pieces fit together to create a picture.

An interesting thing I’ve noticed about origin stories is that they very often start with a small action, a seemingly unremarkable, ordinary moment. In hindsight, the moment becomes important because of additional facts and context or because it was the first of many other such moments. Initially, however, that one little something that occurred at that point in time – that decision, or reaction, or word choice – floated in a pool of other somethings until it became Something More.

In the case of Justice Ginsburg, her iconic collars started with a quiet desire to feminize the robes worn by the U.S. Supreme Court Justices. The robes were designed for men; she and Sandra Day O’Connor were the first women to ever wear them.

In the space normally occupied by a man’s collar and tie, Justice Ginsburg and Justice O’Connor first added lace. Over time, Justice Ginsburg expanded her judicial wardrobe with a wide variety of collars. Some had beads, some had beautiful colors. Some were gifts specially designed in her honor. Each one held meaning for her; each one reflected a message or a memory, an unspoken display of her opinion and perspective.

What started as a simple choice evolved into an iconic signature. A small thing, perhaps – it certainly doesn’t have the significance of a military battle or a coronation. That fashion choice, however, now stands as a symbol of influence and impact, of possibilities and potential.

Who knows how many people will be inspired by one of those collars and the story behind it? And then, once inspired, what might they achieve?

How many origin stories are happening out there, right at this moment?

https://time.com/5914834/ruth-bader-ginsburg-collars/

This year celebrates 90 years of Nancy Drew mysteries.

I, like many others, grew up on Nancy Drew. I read each book more than once and couldn’t wait for the next new one.

Through Nancy’s adventures, I learned the meaning of the words “sleuth” and “titian,” gained an appreciation for small details, and took my first steps toward a lifelong interest in understanding human behavior. Her curiosity, creativity, and confidence were inspirational.

I also admired Nancy because she wasn’t superhuman. She solved every mystery, but she made mistakes and sometimes found herself in some troubling circumstances. Still, she never failed to keep going, to do her best to achieve a positive outcome.

Nancy was polite and helpful, humble and kind. She waited her turn, gave credit to others, and generously shared with others. She was respectful when stating her opinion, used facts to make her case, and enjoyed learning new things. She was a good and loyal friend. Of course, solving mysteries meant that she had to take some risks, but they were carefully calculated. Responsibility was her hallmark.

Nancy was a stellar role model. I wanted to be just like Nancy.

Recently, I learned that when the first books were published, some book stores and libraries refused to carry them. The reason? Nancy didn’t behave the way a young woman of that age was supposed to behave. Her unconventional actions and independent nature simply weren’t acceptable.

I’ve always thought of myself as being influenced by a Good Girl. Who knew that Nancy was actually a Rebel all along?

“The young sleuth smiled. Although she was glad it was all over, she could not help but look forward to another mystery to solve.” – Carolyn Keene, The Hidden Staircase

The other day, I was thinking about the long-term implications of mask-wearing and social cues.

I will clarify that I am 100% pro-mask as a means of minimizing the spread of disease, of keeping myself and others as safe as possible in the midst of the current pandemic. My musings aren’t related to an anti-mask perspective. Masks = good.

I also know, however, that facial expressions play a key role in communication. We smile, we frown, we show surprise and anger, fear and joy, all the feelings with our faces. These actions emphasize and reinforce our words, voice tone, and body language.

As babies and young children, we learn how to interpret and use these expressions by watching and mimicking other people. As adults, we depend on these learned cues to evaluate and choose our actions when interacting with others.

Sometimes, we make a conscious decision about what we see; for example, we walk into a room of smiling people and conclude that we’re in friendly territory. Sometimes, our interpretation is more of a gut-level reaction; for example, a tight-lipped expression with the words, “I’m fine” warns us that things are not, in fact, fine.

So, if the lower half of the faces of great numbers of people aren’t visible for significant portions of time, what’s the eventual outcome?

It will be interesting to revisit this question after we have a vaccine, after masks have been unnecessary for a while. In the meantime, our challenge is to work around the situation, to come up with creative options to cope with any communication gaps.

I learned about one such option yesterday. FriendlyFaces.com is a website offering personalized masks for purchase. You take a selfie, upload it to the website, and then select the size and other details of your mask. When your mask arrives, you have a means of safely presenting your face, with your chosen expression, to the world.

There’s no requirement that the expression be a happy one, of course. “Resting bitch face” is certainly an option. I suspect, however, that most people who order a mask end up choosing a smiling selfie. Humans are social creatures, after all. It’s hard to resist a friendly face.

There’s an army of people who arrived at polling places in the wee hours of this morning. They’re not there to vote (although it’s likely that every single one of them has already or will at some point before the day ends). They’re there to make voting possible for the rest of us.

Today, they’ll answer questions, fix problems, complete paperwork, give directions, and keep order. They’ll do it regardless of what’s happening elsewhere, in the news or in the neighborhoods. Many of them have been doing these things for days already, supporting the early voting process. They’ve given up time with family and friends and put themselves at greater risk during a pandemic because they know how much it matters, this process of choosing our nation’s future.

Here’s to the poll workers. You’re the unnamed patriots, making sure the rest of us are able to make our voices heard. Thank you for being there. We couldn’t do it without you.