Can't you sing that?

Throughout the Voyager series, the doctor struggles to define his identity and to understand his place within the fabric of social structure. Despite superior knowledge of medicine and skill that rivals any human doctor, he is not considered desirable as a physician or as a friend because of his status as a hologram. The dilemma typifies problems faced by people of differing racial backgrounds. It also often demonstrates problems faced by people with disabilities. The doctor has particular strengths but also lacks knowledge of social skills and nuances that are necessary for success. He develops these things as he interacts with people more often; but people must risk interaction with him before this can happen. He makes friends over time but continues to feel an emptiness inside, a longing for a greater ability to fit in. His professional identity does not give him a sense of completeness; and he reaches for more and more ways to build his sense of self. Some of the things he enjoys end up creating uncomfortable situations for him.

In the episode, "Virtuoso," Voyager's doctor encounters a painful familiar scenario: people who need his services think he is not really capable of performing the task. The difference, in this case, is that his patients are members of an advanced species who not only dislike him because he is a hologram but also dislike humans because they are an inferior species. When his patients speak in front of him using overexaggerated speech, he returns the favor and returns to his work, humming cheerfully. His humming, which often irritates his shipmates, captivates the aliens, who have never heard music. The doctor rises quickly to become a celebrity on their planet. Soon he garners invitations to perform for large audiences, and one of the aliens composes a complicated piece and asks him to perform it for her. Flattered by her attentions, the doctor submits his resignation to Captain Janeway and begins making plans to stay on the planet to explore his dream of becoming an opera singer. His dream is shattered when he finds himself unable to perform the alien's piece. He learns that attention is not always based in love.

The fate of his relationship with his musical fans is often the fate of people whose relationships are built on admiration, especially when the admired person has worked hard to develop a particular skill set in order to make the relationship possible: the relationship is possible only as long as the skill is good enough for the demand. The result is disastrous when the demand exceeds the skill level.

The struggle for depth in relationships is common. As Seven reads fan mail to the doctor, I think that perhaps depth is not so far away as it sometimes seems...

Star Trek tear jerkers

My fiance, Kevin LaRose, will be joining me for the upcoming series on Star Trek tear jerker moments. We have both become quite fond of Trek over the years, though I have not quite convinced him to embrace all five series yet. I am a hopeless Trekkie, while he has his preferred series.

I ran across an article this morning by Jordan Hoffman listing his top ten Star Trek tear-jerker moments. They are pretty good, and he invited comments at the end. I decided, instead, to do a series about my own favorite tear-jerkers. It is not So, to get us started...

Belle's death (Voyager, season 3, episode 22

In this episode, the doctor decides to create a holographic family so that he can experience the trials and joys that some of the Voyager crew experience. His program needs a little tweaking, and B'Elana offers to assist him. I rarely cry over movies or TV shows. I did over this one. Robert Picardo is a wonderful actor anyway. Everything he does in this series is extremely natural and shows a wide range of emotion, from jubilation to grumpiness. In this show, he does parenthood supremely and grieves so well that I am there at his daughter's bedside. The child actress is phenomenal as well. Where did they find her???

I read in another article once that people liked Deep Space Nine because it came back from space and explored the inner self. I always found that Voyager did a great job with explorations of the self and deep subjects. This episode is a good example. The doctor faces death daily; but he avoids it by shutting down the holofamily program when his daughter is near death until his crewmates confront him. (Would that we all had that luxury!) Watching him rise to the challenge and comfort her in her death is probably the most poignant part of the episode for me. It is a sign that he is moving past his "programming," a much better sign than his encounter with a flu virus in season 2.

"Do you understand?"

When the Crew of the U.S.S. starship Voyager is stranded in the Delta Quadrant, they meet up with an alien from a planet called Talax whose name is Nelix. Nelix is a wanderer, having lost his family in a war previously; and he joins Voyager as a guide. He brings with him a companion, a young Ocampa woman named Kess.

Eventually, Voyager reaches the limit of the area of space known to Nelix, and Nelix begins to fear that he will no longer be able to contribute anything useful to the crew. In search of a map, he makes a deal with an old friend. In return for the map, he assists in the delivery of illegal drugs.

Captain Janeway confronts him about this behavior at the end of the episode. Anticipating punishment, he says, "I'm prepared to leave the ship."

Janeway explains that he doesn't get off so easy. "You're part of a family now, and we all have responsibilities. Do you understand"

Nelix answers, "Yes," and Janeway orders him to scrub the plasma manifolds for the next two weeks.

I couldn't help considering Nelix's reaction from various perspectives... My background is in child care; and it was always hard for me to discipline children whose misbehavior was a sign of their insecurity. In many situations, I found that addressing the emotional situation behind the behavior was crucial to effecting lasting change in the classroom and in the child's life. Incidentally, this works with adults, too. Growing up doesn't change the fact that insecurity makes us behave with poor judgment. We might be able to do what is asked of us with better understanding; but it is amazing what can change when emotional understanding is part of the equation as well.

Watching this episode, I found myself wondering if Nelix really would have understood what Janeway was talking about. If this had been a Star Trek book, I could see this scene as the climax that reveals the secret of Nelix's past and opens the door to a new, deeper relationship of trust between him and Janeway. Of course, we were out of time on the episode; so this did not happen. (Two-parter, anyone?)

I wish I could be...

In Survivors, Deanna Troi gives Tasha an intriguing piece of advice as Tasha struggles to come to terms with her past. She says, "Tasha, you want to be the iron woman, able to defeat all enemies with any weapon or your bare hands, all pertinent facts ready at hand. Data has the physical strength and wide-ranging knowledge you envy, and yet he would give it all up to be human. Talk with him; I think you will learn a great deal from one another."

Tasha is not at all unfamiliar with Data--they have, in fact, had some personal encounters (no spoilers here for those who have not seen season 1 of TNG). However, Deanna's advice leads her to consider her interactions with Data in a new light.

It is often said that opposites attract. But how often do we take the presence of opposites in our lives as opportunities for learning and growth instead of frusttation? My dad is a strong thinker and analyzer. I am a strong feeler and empathizer. My feeling tendencies often irritate him; and one of the things he has encouraged me to do over the years is to develop stronger thinking skills. Whether he knows it or not, I actually took him up on the challenge. I am and will always be a stronger feeler; but making use of my thinking skills helped me to make better use of my feelings and empathy. This includes the ability to determine when to lay them aside at times (not always an easy task while they scream at me in the middle of my work). I hope that perhaps the thinkers in my lifemight benefit as much from learning to use their emotions. (By the way, Vulcans do, indeed, have emotions. But more on that in another post at some future point...)

For those in my readership who may notice that I have alluded to Myers-Briggs type above, that is intentional. The sharing of experience and information between the other personality aspects is also beneficial.

Melora, self-advocacy, and effective relationships

In the last entry, we met Ensign Melora Pazlar, who was a guest on Deep Space Nine in the second season. Because Melora is native to a low-gravity environment, she uses a wheelchair to navigate Deep Space Nine. The episode entitled "Melora" explores the interplay of her and the crew's reactions to her situation.

When Melora finds Sisko, Bashir, and Dax discussing the possibility of her taking a runabout to the Gamma Quadrant alone, she responds confrontationally, asking whether she shouldn't have been included in the meeting. Sisko explains that he was having a meeting with his senior officers and that they often discuss personnel matters in these meetings; but the undertone in his voice implies that he is uncomfortable and perhaps he did mean not to include Melora... Melora continues to advocate for herself, explaining that she finds it easier to work alone. (Why would that be? one wonders.) She also objects to Julian's presence at the meeting, stating that a medical opinion is not necessary concerning her abilities. In the end, Sisko does not change his mind: Dax will accompany her.

As did the previous scene, this scene resonated deeply with me as a person with a disability. Melora is much more outspoken than I am--I tend to let things bubble inside until they boil over. The effect of her self-advocacy is palpable. It makes people uncomfortable with the truth. She is not able to demonstrate her ability for itself. It seems always to ride on the back of her ability to adapt to the environment and how she is doing medically--and perhaps even on other people's fears. Having grown accustomed to this, she has learned to anticipate it and to carry a spiked shield before her.

Such are the lives of many people with disabilities. And blessed are the people who know how to be comfortable with themselves and with the unknown so that they can, without drawing attention to our differences, allow life to unfold and allow us to become contributing members of the community who use different methods to do things.

"The Melora Problem," opening thoughts

I am amazed at the depth of issues the Star Trek writers can sometimes tackle in one episode. In the "disability community," people often lament the rarity of disability themes in television shows. Star Trek sometimes tackles issues associated with life as a person with a disability amazingly well. One of my favorite such episodes is "Melora," from season 2 of Deep Space Nine. It is quite a complex episode; and for this reason, I will stretch my discussion over several posts.

In the opening scene, Dax, Obrien, and Julian are discussing the expected arrival of a new ensign, Melora Pazlar. Melora is a member of a low-gravity species and has requested a wheelchair in order to navigate the station and modifications to her quarters so that she can enjoy a low-gravity environment during her off-duty hours.

Julian, having supervised preparations for Melora's arrival, is enthusiastic. He responds to Dax and OBrien's questions about practical challenges, revealing that he has not only researched ways to make things work for her but that he has researched Melora herself. The station has not been completely modified with ramps; and Dax proposes using the transporter to help her navigate. Julian replies, "Once her basic needs are met, she refuses any assistance." This will theme will be revisited throughout the episode.

He goes on to ask whether the modifications to her quarters have been completed. In this discussion, we begin to see the internal conflict that Julian is experiencing. On one hand, he is proud of himself for working so hard to accommodate her--in fact, he has gone above and beyond her requests, and this will create tension. On the other hand, he is curious about what she is like in her natural environment; and he assumes he and his friends will have the opportunity to see--after all, she will have to test the modifications. His curiosity is evident as he says, "That'll be something to see ... when we turn off the gravity and she flies around."

When Melora tries out the chair, she finds that it is modified. Expressing frustration, she explains that she has been practicing on the model she requested for the past month. Julian offers to replicate her requested model; and she refuses, saying that she will adapt. The tension between them is quite evident.

In just these first three minutes or so, Star Trek writers have managed to depict some of the most difficult aspects of life with a disability. In an effort to cope with anxieties about whether I will be able to manage in a particular environment, people sometimes go above and beyond what I ask of them. This can have quite unintended consequences and can even create dangerous situations. At times, people try to explain this behavior by saying, "You are blind and you don't know what you will encounter." In the face of such responses, I must gently explain to them that as a person who has lived with blindness all my life, I am accustomed to preparing for the unknown and too much assistance can impede that process. My best example has to do with approaching a flight of stairs. People often put their arm out in front of me as I approach a flight of stairs, as if I might hurtle down it unaware. However, my reaction at encountering their arm unexpectedly could more likely cause me to fall than could the encounter with stairs, which I would detect with a cane or be aware of because my dog guide stopped at the top.

As we will discover, Melora struggles with the challenge of setting boundaries regarding her assignments and her perceptions of people's attitudes concerning her abilities. Her struggle is typical of struggles that I experience.

People are also very curious about numerous aspects of my life. Managing my private space is very challenging. Sometimes I do better at it than others. I will examine this in further detail in later posts. (I said this episode is very complex.)

issues of difference: a unique twist

One of the interesting themes explored in Star Trek, Deep Space Nine, is the ongoing societal and personal impact of the use of genetic resequencing. This idea was first introduced in The Original Series but was not really explored again in The Next Generation. In Deep Space Nine, we learn rather late in the series, when Dr. Louis Zimmerman comes to profile Julian Bashir for potential use as a model for an emergency medical hologram, that Julian underwent genetic resequencing as a child. This should have disqualified him from serving in Starfleet; but he has withheld the information and managed to live a normal life in spite of his enhanced abilities.

The truth about Julian's past is discovered when his parents encounter the holographic Julian and interact with him, not realizing he is a hologram. Eventually, his parents agree to serve a sentence in prison for having him genetically altered in exchange for his being allowed to continue serving in Starfleet.

In subsequent episodes, we see that Julian's relationships change as knowledge of his genetic enhancement becomes public. Some of his friends become bitter toward him and expect things of him that are unfair. He has no support system for coping with these things.

In the episode, "Statistical Probabilities," Dr. Bashir has the opportunity to work with four people who have been genetically engineered in the hope of helping them to become able to participate productively in society. Having been genetically altered as a child himself, he is able to empathize with their predicament to some degree. He shares his feelings about his first encounter with the group with his friends from the senior staff over dinner. The conversation has unforeseen effects on him.

Julian: All I kept thinking was "there but for the grace of God go I."

Dax: How do you mean?

Julian: My parents found a decent doctor
to perform the DNA resequencing on me. These four weren't so lucky. They all suffered unintended side effects. By the time they were five or six years old, their parents had to come forward and admit that they'd broken the law so their children could get treatment.

Sisko: Sounds like they waited too long.

Julian: There wasn't much the doctors at the Institute could do for them -- cases like theirs are so rare there's no standard treatment.

Kira: I can't imagine it was a very challenging environment for them.

Julian: That's exactly what Doctor Loews felt when she first came to the Institute. She got permission to separate them from the other
residents so she could work with them.

Odo: Why did she bring them here?

Julian: She thought they might respond to meeting someone who was like them, but was living a normal life. She's hoping that someday they'll be able to live on their own and
be productive.

O'Brien: I hope they don't end up being too productive -- it'd make the rest of us look bad.

Worf: It is no laughing matter. If
people like them are allowed to compete freely, parents would feel pressured to have their children enhanced so that they could keep up.

Odo: That's precisely what prompted the ban on DNA resequencing in the
first place.

Julian: Giving them a chance to contribute doesn't mean sanctioning what was done to them. They didn't ask to have their DNA tampered with -- they were just children when it happened. Why should they be excluded when their parents are
the ones who broke the law?

Sisko: You're right. It's not quite
fair. But even so it seemed a good way to discourage genetic tampering.
O'Brien:
Besides, we're not talking about excluding them, we're talking about putting certain limits on what they're allowed to do.

Julian: Like joining Starfleet.

Worf: Exactly.

Julian: Are you saying I shouldn't be allowed to wear this uniform?

Worf: You... are an exception.

No matter how many times I watch this episode, the last line of this dialogue always hits me like a surprise dart. "You are an exception." People have stereotypical expectations of various groups that I fall into. They may or may not realize that I fit into the category they are stereotyping at the time of discussion. (You would be amazed how many people tell me they "forget" I am blind--because I do not fit their stereotypical idea of whatever it means to "act blind.") When I point out, in some manner, that I fit the group, and I question the stereotype, the person often says, "You are an exception."

As a member of the group--and a person who is rather intimately familiar with the group and its needs, I am not so often an exception. Instead, what has happened is that I have caused the person's stereotypes to come into conflict with reality. But it is more comfortable to insist that I am an exception than to change one's understanding of reality.

In the end, Julian is (over the course of another episode) only able to help one of the four individuals. She goes on to seek out her own life; and he continues to struggle with his own adjustment process. This is never really resolved in the series. It is explored a bit further in the relaunch novel, Twist of Faith. Like a disability, being genetically altered is something a person continues to grapple with all his life. I appreciate that the writers revisited it from one scenario to another. It is an interesting way to examine issues of difference from a new perspective.

healthy grief

In season 2 of Star Trek, Deep Space Nine, Commander Benjamin Sisko continues to wrestle with his feelings about Jennifer's death. In the beginning of episode 9, he says, "Yesterday was thte fourth anniversary of the massacre at Wolf 359, the fourth anniversary of Jennifer's death. I'm not sure what bothers me more, the date itself or the fact that it almost passed unnoticed."

Sisko's experience of the unnoticed anniversary is a normal part of healthy grief. The unnoticed anniversary allows him to participate actively in other aspects of life and even, in time, to develop interest in another woman. His first interest is not so well placed; but that, too, is a normal part of life.

There are some griefs that we treat as sacred. We disallow ourselves from coming to a point in life where the anniversaries can be unnoticed. In some cases this is unhealthy. In others it is respectful. It allows us to protect ourselves and others against repeated acts of violence, provided that our rituals of remembrance are healthy and promote healing.

This is an especially important thing to keep in mind on the anniversary of the acts committed on September 11, 2001. It is important that we use this day to remember the losses our country experienced on that day and to teach children about the impact of those events. It is also important that we use healthy, peaceful rituals in this process.

coping with the nonlinear

In the second episode of Star Trek, Deep Space Nine, Captain Benjamin Sisko encounters a race of noncorporeal beings who inhabit a stable wormhole leading between the Alpha and Gamma quadrants. The noncorporeal beings do not understand the concept of time; and Sisko tries to explain to them that humans experience life in a "linear existence." He explains that once an experience is finished, it becomes part of the past and that humans use past experiences to prepare them for future experiences.

The beings, who will come to be known as the Prophets by the Bajorans living on the planet nearby, appear to him in the form of people from his life; and he explains things to them as they revisit memories from his life. One memory is visited repeatedly: the crisis on a ship at a battle with the Borg at which his wife, Jennifer, was killed. The Prophets ask, "Why do you exist here?" In later visits to the memory, this is a statement: "You exist here."

As Sisko comes to terms with the effect of this event on his life, he realizes that he never moved beyond the experience emotionally. One of the Prophets says, "Nothing in your past prepared you for this experience. ... It is not linear."

Sisko's encounter with the Prophets has a powerful impact on his life. He learns that he must choose to move on to the rest of his life, that he must choose a linear existence even when he is not prepared for it. The encounter also serves as a point of understanding that allows him to build relationship with the Prophets.

Like Sisko, we all expect to live a linear existence. We use experiences from our past to make choices about how to live in the future. But sometimes we experience things for which nothing in our past has prepared us.

How do you cope in these times? I choose my faith. God is not linear. That is something that comforts me.

why I like Star Trek

As a seminary student, I got into the habit of watching episodes of Star Trek Voyager when I was under stress. I told my roommate that Star Trek made me think. She probably thought I was making a fine excuse for my Voyager addiction. What fun I had when my leadership class spent a class period analyzing the group dynamics and communication skills from an episode of Star Trek, The Next Generation, in which Captain Jean-Luc Picard is stranded on a planet alone with an alien and no universal translator.

Star Trek does make me think. I am, of course, accustomed to looking for lessons in story--that is what pastors and Bible teachers do. It is also what good writers do: use story to communicate things that are important or help people think about things that are too big for everyday conversation.

Here is a place for the reflections that come from those stories--because in reality watching and reading Star Trek, for me, is not just a way to escape stress. It is a way to give myself space to think.