Ms. Wisdom Fails

Looking out the window at work today.

My older son has been experiencing office politics lately. The whole story of rivalry, gossip, and potential backstabbing is finding its way into his so far inexperienced work life. He calls to "consult" with me. I listen, ask some questions, and give him my opinion. In his funny and sarcastic way, he says: "Thanks for the fortune cookie, Mom," and we hang up. Though he appears to have learned his fundamental lessons about honesty and integrity, he appears unwilling to learn about self preservation and conflict management. I can't convince him to walk up to someone and discuss his feelings openly, seeking a mutually satisfying solution. Part of me thinks that this is because he is young and as yet inexperienced. Part of me, though, thinks that he is having a "typical male" approach to his predicament, staying uncompromising and bullish when he feels he hasn't done anything wrong, and that there really couldn't be a better way for bringing harmony to his environment. As I sit at my desk and feel inadequate in helping him, I also feel for both my sons today. They are men who are trying to find their way through life with a woman as their only present consultant, confidant, and teacher. I suppose telling him "to try and work it out with your coworker before escalating it to your manager," might sound like a fortune cookie piece of advice. Sigh.

Ms. Wisdom Hopes

I have a brilliant young artist friend who lives in Iran. He is married to a wonderful young woman, the daughter of famous artists herself, and the last time I saw the two of them in Tehran in March 2006, they were happily married and unbelievably in love. Over the past couple of months, my friend had been acting strange, calling me in the middle of the night, and leaving strange messages on my voice mail, saying: Hi! This is Hamid*. I need to talk to you. Please don’t call me; and hanging up. Or appearing as though he was online on Yahoo Messenger, but no matter how much I tried to get his attention, he wouldn’t reply. Recently, he has resurfaced, saying that he is having serious problems with his wife and they are seriously considering divorce. He has the familiar story of how they are so different, and that they don’t get along anymore, etc., saying that his wife is the one pushing for a divorce. I ask him whether they are still in the same apartment. He says yes. I ask him if they are talking to each other. He says no. Though it is quite obvious, I ask whether they are having sex, and he says not for the past 4 months.

When I first learned about this a month ago, I suggested to Hamid to go see a marriage counselor. With divorce at such a high rate in Iran, we actually have professionals specializing in marriage counseling (I don’t know how good or effective they are, but I know that they exist). He agreed to go. So, he calls me the day before Nowrooz and says that they went to see the marriage counselor and he was advised by the counselor that his wife cannot stand this marriage any more! He said that they are moving full speed towards the big D. My heart weeps for anyone who knows nothing about the reality of divorce and keeps saying the word. I say to him, Hamid Jan. You can always get a divorce, but you must first make sure that you have given this marriage your best shot. I say to him that making this important decision will bring him and his wife so much pain later that it is worth serious and deep contemplation at this time.

I ask him what his wife told the marriage counselor, what it is that made her not be able to stand this marriage anymore. He says that she told the counselor that he doesn’t pay any attention to her. I asked him if this was true. He says yes, I admit it and I’m sorry. Talking to him, though, he doesn’t sound sorry enough. I say to him, Hamid Jan. Please go get your wife some flowers, a gift, and go embrace her and tell her that you are sorry and that you want to save your marriage, that you both need another chance to work on making this right. He says I don’t believe in those kinds of material offerings. I point out to him that that’s probably one of the things that is construed as his lack of attention to his wife. I say to him that gifts don’t really matter, except that they are symbols and signs of the fact that we care about someone; that’s why they shouldn’t be expensive or lavish. I say to him that people really appreciate it when their partners show that they have been thinking about them. I begged of him to go do something nice and kind for his wife, asking her to give their marriage another chance. In the end, he said he will do it. We hung up. I didn’t get the feeling that he was entirely convinced that this is the right thing to do. I can only hope that he does give his marriage another shot, in whatever way he is comfortable doing.

I think, however, that divorce is a decision that cooks in people’s minds and hearts for a long time before it even surfaces and is discussed. In the time it takes for it to cook in people’s minds, however, it becomes almost irreversible and unstoppable. I wished I had been in Tehran as my young friends’ relationship was deteriorating, and maybe I could have helped them in the process. I am so sad for the two of them and for what is awaiting them. Judging from tens of similar separations I have witnessed in Iran, after a possible divorce Hamid would most likely quickly get into another relationship, and quite possibly another marriage. His beautiful young wife, however, will not have a very easy time doing the same. Economic perils and social pressures threaten her, and her spirit will suffer much in the hands of a society that doesn’t take too kindly to divorced women. I hope they work on their problems and stay together. It was so beautiful watching them in love. My heart aches with worry and hope.

*I have changed his name and some other attributes here.

Ms. Wisdom: Deal or No Deal?

Another typical day in my life. I get a phone call from my young friend in LA. She says after she told her boss that she didn’t appreciate his touches and close proximity to her in her office, she was called into the office of bigwigs yesterday, and was summarily fired, escorted to the parking lot and all. Her friends are telling her to sue. I say to her to wallow and cry for another 48 hours and then get started on finding a new job. I say to her what might sound like a cliché: “The best revenge is living well.” I say: “Get a job, get a life, and live it well. That will show the bastards the stuff you are made of. Their loss. Stop thinking that your dignity has been compromised because you were fired. Your dignity would have been compromised if you had succumbed and slept with your boss to keep your job or to be promoted.” She cries. I sound brave and wise on the phone, but I swallow my tears for my brilliant UCLA MBA friend. I hang up. I am telling you, I think I don’t deserve all the respect I get from my women friends. I am in the business of survival and search for happiness, even if it takes me to another continent, another country, another job, and another life. I fight as best as I can, and when I have to choose between martyrdom and departure, I depart. I won’t stay and fight to the last drop of my blood. I need my blood and my life to live and to help those dependent on me. I think my young friend may be able to win a long and uphill battle, but she will lose so much time, energy, and life in the process. What for? To prove a point that keeps being proven and yet the offense continues? I don’t know. I am not that wise, really.

Ms. Wisdom Shuts Up

She cries. I ask her what the matter is. She cries harder. She looks really Western today, chic clothes, nice boots, manicured nails, gorgeous loose curls of auburn hair all around her lovely pale face; yet she sounds so Iranian, not just the accent, but what she says sounds so old world to me today. In between sobs and tears and silences where her shoulders shake and her face rests in her wet hands, she talks about the “incident of intimacy,” her words not mine. I try to understand what has her so miserable. So, first I try to find out if she has been hurt in any way. She shakes her head “no.” Relieved, I try to soothe her by saying that things happen. I say it’s natural for things to sometimes progress in a relationship, and that could be O.K. I say that between two free, consenting adults…. She shakes her head “no,” again…. I’m stumped. I keep quiet. I wonder whether she has a cultural difficulty in accepting something considered natural and acceptable in a relationship in these parts. She says: “I was so surprised…,” more sobs. My heart is breaking for my friend, but I don’t even understand the problem to start offering solace. She says: “…after…..he didn’t even walk me to my car. He never called me again... .” What can I say? Break into a tirade against men? Too pathetic and stereotypical, so I won’t do it. Console her by saying that he will call her, thinking of excuses about the man’s abysmal behavior and disappearance? How can I defend something indefensible about a person I have never met? I can’t appease my friend on unfounded hope.

I am quiet, but I reach for my sad friend and give her a big hug, holding her in my arms for a long time, rocking her, giving her my silent love and reassurance about her womanhood and dignity. Ms. Wisdom is quiet for a change.