Before any important meeting like a parent-teacher conference. My dad could be found by the door endlessly adjusting his hat, just like this. Hats are important both to Okie culture in general and my dad personally.
Something I haven’t been able to say, but is finally possible to say pretty clearly and directly. Here’s a very simplistic way of describing how to tell a good agency from a bad one:
Insert people as staff or management or whatever other jobs there are.
See if they treat their clients better, worse, or the same just by being there.
A good agency will, by the way it’s structured, encourage people to behave with respect, responsibility, and ethics.
A bad agency will do the opposite.
A bad agency will make it so that it requires a great deal of effort to behave like a decent human being even if you’re trying really hard to do so.
A good agency will make it so that the average person will go in and do better than they otherwise would have.
A good agency will make it so that someone going in with malicious intentions will find it hard to act on those intentions or last long within the agency if they manage it.
Put simply: A good agency will make it easy to be good and hard to be bad. A bad agency will make it easy to be bad and hard to be good. Good agencies bring out the best in people, bad agencies bring out the worst in people.
A very good agency will change many people with malicious intentions for the better, through means that are themselves good. A very bad agency will change many people with excellent intentions for the worse, through means that are ethically muddy at best and outright evil at worst.
All of this is simplistically worded. But hopefully you know what I mean. I’ve spent a long time struggling to find words for this. I’m still not there yet. Life is more complicated than a cartoon version of right and wrong. But a good place makes it easy to do the right thing and encourages everyone in that direction, and a bad place does the opposite. Even if it’s never that simple. Which, of course, it isn’t.
But I’m excited that I’m able to even say this much.
Because I’m getting sick of having to add disclaimers to everything I say about HCBS or medical services like “I know there’s good people here, but…” Of course there’s “good people” here. There’s every kind of people everywhere. But that isn’t what makes an agency good or bad. Also, I genuinely don’t believe in the existence of ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ so all of this is an oversimplified way of describing things anyway. But to be able to describe this at all is an enormous relief.
Also, this is one aspect of how agencies operate. This is one aspect of what makes agencies better or worse. And this is a description of a tendency, not something that’s written in stone and never changes.
But it is something.
And I was able to say it.
And given how difficult writing is lately, that feels pretty good. It also feels good to finally be able to say this without practically having to write a novel to do it. I’m tired of having to constantly reassure people that I understand they are often coming in with good intentions, that calling an agency bad is not the same as making everyone who works there ‘bad guys’, or that I don’t even believe in good guys and bad guys in the first place. And never being able to even get to a discussion of what’s happening.
I’m not good at summarizing even at the best of times. But here’s a tl;dr summary to the best of my abilities:
TL;DR: Good agencies make it easy to do good things and hard to do bad things, regardless of what kind of intent and knowledge you come in with. Bad agencies make it easy to do bad things and hard to do good things, regardless of what kind of intent and knowledge you come in with. I’m aware how oversimplified this is, but I have had a lot of trouble writing anything suitable for blogging despite many ideas of things to write. So I have managed to describe one small piece of how to tell if an agency or organization is, generally speaking, a good place or not or somewhere in between. And I’m glad I was able to do that.
Maybe it’s because I’m in Vermont. I don’t know. People come up with a lot of weird meanings for my hat. They think it’s a cowboy hat. Or an adventurer hat. Or some kind of costume. It’s not any of the above. It’s my father’s hat.
Maybe it’s an Okie thing. People wear hats. Wearing hats has specific meanings I can’t put into words easily. I can look back in generations of family photographs and find people wearing similar hats, similar clothes.
My father always wore a hat. But he wore them for different reasons.
One of my favorite memories of my father and his hats was the way he’d wear it when he was headed out to do something important. He might still be wearing his usual jeans and shirt, but the hat meant things were important and he was dressing up. You could tell by how deliberately he put it on.
And he wore these hats as if the hats grew out of his head.
I saw hats in family photos, hats on family members, I saw the way people treated their hats, the way they touched their hats, the way they wore their hats. Hats are important in my family and culture.
When my father died, he sent me a lot of his hats, and a lot of his shirts and suspenders. I began wearing his clothes, or his style of clothes, every day, including his hats.
People told me for the first time in my life I looked comfortable in my own skin.
It wasn’t a conscious thing.
But the clothes started looking like they grew on me, the same way they looked like they grew on him, the same way similar clothes look like they grew on many of our relatives who dress similarly.
I started feeling more connected to him.
It sounds like a cliché, but maybe some things are clichés for a reason: Wearing his clothes made me able to feel connected to him, I found the parts of me that he left deep inside of me when I wasn’t looking. It wasn’t about how I looked in the clothes, it was about how I felt in them. I felt connected to him, connected to my family, connected to my culture. I felt things that have no words, no names, more depth than you’d imagine from a set of clothing.
But then I always connected to the world well through objects and the connections between them.
And, it turns out, so did my father.
I continue to discover him inside of me in ways I could’ve never imagined.
I continue to discover the things he has passed down to me without word or instruction.
And those things, that love, are the most valuable things of all. They form connections and bonds between people. They’re important.
So when you see me in any of my dad’s hats. It’s not a costume. It’s not a cowboy hat. It’s not an adventurer hat. It’s a connection to things I didn’t even know were inside me, between me and my dad, between me and my family, between me and my culture. It’s remembrance and love but it’s so much more.
People are often taught to view clothing as superficial and vain. To view objects as just meaningless dead things. But clothing can tell you a lot about where you come from. It can connect you to your roots, however loving, uncomfortable, and complicated those roots might be. It can be a reminder of who you really are.