Category: At-Home

Yes, I am at home. I have learned to be a good cook over the years, tho’ I specialize in soups (my husband says) and pies (so say my friends.) I drive my children to and fro, dealing with the complexities of having them. I write. I do small photography gigs. I volunteer in the community.

Finding my Voice.

(There is a caveat at the end.)

Of all the things that I do not understand in the Bible,

these verses about women top my list.

Oh, I know how some interpret them,

but I don’t feel resolution in my heart.

Historically and culturally, they make a little more sense in the time that they were written.  And I know the Bible wasn’t written to us today, but written for us as followers of Jesus so how they are being interpreted by many parts of the Church makes no sense to me.

 

  • “A man is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of man.” (1 Cor. 11:7) –– Inferior to men?
  • “Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner” (1 Peter 3:7)  — Weaker than men?
  • “As in all the congregations of the saints, women should remain silent in the churches.” (1 Cor. 14:34)  –– Silent?
  • “I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man.” (1 Tim. 2:12-14) — Should women not have authority over men?
  • If a woman does not cover her head, she should have her hair cut off.” (1 Cor. 11:6)  Must we cut our hair off if we don’t cover it?  I just added this one to poke at the cultural differences.

This is just a sampling ….  Those verses exist in the New Testament books of the Bible and they are up for great debate.  Some people even believe in picking and choosing, some of them are to be followed but not others, which is really silly.  But I don’t want to debate. 

I would like to share some of my feelings about this, because I have thought about this for some time.

The Church does not seem to believe in women.  This undermines our voice in relationships with men as well as in our churches. Underlying these ideas [which say women are subject to men when it comes to the leadership of a church] seems to be these messages sometimes bravely said  out loud and most of the time very subliminally communicated:

  • the belief that women are somehow not quite able to interpret God’s Word,
  • or gain the wisdom needed to lead the church,
  • and definitely don’t have the Godly authority necessary to speak and teach (except to each other and children).
  • Lastly women are not allowed, by edict of scripture, to be elders of the church.  This job trusted to males only.

They do this, because of some of the NT scriptures and yet there are many stories in the Bible of Jesus lifting women up and giving them a voice.

I have thought about two, one being in the Old Testament, Ruth  the Moabite and the other is the five women that visited the tomb of Jesus, four of whom were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Salome and Joanna.  The other is not named.

Ruth the Moabite

There is a story told in the Bible of a woman who led had great influence over a man named Boaz.  Her name was Ruth. a Gentile, an outsider, crop picker  in the fields near  Bethlehem, and she was a follower of Yahweh. Out of her experiences in life grew a perspective and heart that she turned into a strong voice.  Boaz listened to this poor, foreign female as she reinterpreted the Jewish law for him.  Boaz  was a Jewish landowner who strictly obeyed the Mosaic gleaning laws.  But if you were poor and hungry, I would bet the gleaning practices and interpretations would look very different to you than if you were a land owner.   The letter of the law said, “Let them glean” and in doing so you are being generous.  The spirit of the law Ruth said was “Feed them.”  And, Ruth’s perspective opened up a scenario Boaz hadn’t even considered.  And he fed them.

What does it mean as a woman to have a Voice in the church?  It isn’t just about the authority of eldership, it is more subliminal and it is frustrating and difficult.  I have spend years and years of sitting, thinking, stewing, praying, studying, learning, crying, hurting, and wondering.

Ruth seemed to offer Boaz a missing perspective, a compassionate perspective.  Boaz followed the letter of the law, and Ruth followed the heart of the law leading God’s people to sacrifice for the good others.  And I wonder, how many times a female perspective might have changed the Church, might have changed my church, if women were enriching the highest leadership conversations, the Biblical understanding, and the richness of creative perspective and ideas .

When it comes to my church, there are those that would argue that women are in every level of the church, except Elders and ordained ministers.  And that is true. They would say that some day things might change and even go so far as to say, “What I personally believe is women should be elders.”   And I want to push back and say … how long do I have to wait?  If something is true then let’s be the prophetic voices for our generation of women who are at some point going to reject the form of Christianity that excludes them. Your exclusion of me, relegating me to pour the communion wine but not serve it, reminds me each time it happens what- you- really- think- of- me.

No, I will not impulsively or unthinkingly walk away from the church.  No, not today.  But I will reconsider how I hear and interpret your teachings in light of what I know you think of me.

The 12 and the five.

I leave you today with this reminder of the twelve disciples and how they served Jesus in the end.  It was the women who were full of faith — Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Salome and Joanna and one unnamed.

Among the many things that need to be said about the gospels is that we gain nothing by ignoring the fact that Jesus chose twelve male apostles. There were no doubt all kinds of reasons for this within both the symbolic world in which he was operating and the practical and cultural world within which they would have to live and work. But every time this point is made – and in my experience it is made quite frequently – we have to comment on how interesting it is that there comes a time in the story when the disciples all forsake Jesus and run away; and at that point, long before the rehabilitation of Peter and the others, it is the women who come first to the tomb, who are the first to see the risen Jesus, and are the first to be entrusted with the news that he has been raised from the dead. This is of incalculable significance. Mary Magdalene and the others are the apostles to the apostles.  [By NT Wright.]

I believe.

I believe that all people are equal before God and in Christ.  I am coming to understand that I will be held responsible for NOT using my gifts and NOT obeying my calling, as will everyone. I believe God freely calls believers to roles and ministries without regard to class, gender, or race and that the body of Christ, in gender, in race, in culture is beautiful when we are all serving.

I must remember it was the women who were full of faith.  And as I sit in the pew and consider what the Church is saying to women and I’m thinking to myself “let’s just get on with it.” Perhaps I will.  I might just get on with the service to the poor, the widow and the prisoner and find some place where my Voice is considered with mutual affection and attention.  Listen, there is so much about this that I don’t get.  So much about the Church that I don’t understand.  But I can’t believe that a loving God would give me, and half the church, these abilities and talents and ways of thinking that are up to a point appropriate. The glass ceiling of the Church (and my church) seems to be eldership and ordination.

The Voice inside that draws me to stories like this and makes me wonder and question what I am hearing, could it be the voice of God?  Am I supposed to feel this disconnect?  Am I supposed to feel the strength of conviction that I do, that I am doing what needs to be done; to think, and write, and grapple with and yes, gripe at times.  Am I a Voice that needs to be heard?

What do you believe?

*** the caveat ***

Of course I know that there are denominations that are more welcoming to women.  And there are days that I wonder what I’m doing.  But I am not only at this church for me, I have children who are coming to the age of influence and decision and will need the voices of youth leaders.  Tom and I felt, at one point, that we were supposed to go here.  (Mostly Tom but still…) because we both needed to be challenged, to have soul-changing business done in our hearts and that happens for us weekly.  And I believe that my quite, droning voice will some day make some difference.  Some day, some how.    And, quite honestly I have run from opportunities at this church because of my painful departure from InterVarsity and a doubt in myself that I had anything to offer because of that experience.  It’s taken me years to sort this out.  Frankly I was only coming to an understanding of this as I spoke up for Asian Americans and women in the Deadly Viper fracus, that I heard my own Voice and woke up.

I read a lot of stuff, blogs and articles and at some point today I did read an article on this website about Women in Leadership where I was reminded of the story of Ruth and the idea of her using her voice with Boaz.  I got that tie-in from the article but I can’t credit it because I can’t find it.  Apologies to the author.

On Black Friday, you can make a difference locally

Black Friday is coming.

All week my plan was to write about the International Buy Nothing Day: A 24 hour moratorium on consumer spending.

It’s called Black Friday, because it is the day stores move from red to black in their sales margin.  The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is the highest spending month in the entire year.

Fueled by a culture of over-consumption millions of Americans will participate.  Although I am encouraging you to do something different, I do think this idea is worth a laugh, which I found on the Buy Nothing Day website.

Whirl–mart

This activity has the advantage of being most likely to piss off security personnel. You and nine of your closest friends silently drive your shopping carts around in a long, inexplicable conga line without ever actually buying anything.

(Anyway, it made me laugh out loud.  I would never be able to do it, but I can see my daughter Molly and nine of her friends involved in this kind of social protest.  Oh yeah!)

I found a better idea for those of us who are slightly middle aged and have $50-100 we plan to spend over the weekend of Black Friday. Well, I wish I had thought of it, really do.  But I console myself that there’s no new idea under the sun, even if you copyright it like this woman did.  I can sure support it, because it makes so much sense.  It is called the 3/50 Project.  But I explain it all here:

Spend at least $50 in three local businesses to show your support of local, independent businesses.

Ask yourself what local, independently owned businesses would you really miss if they disappeared?

Get into those stores and buy something.

For every $100 you spend locally, $68 stays in the local community.  If you shop or eat at national chains, only $43 stays in your community.  If you shop on-line nothing stays local, did you hear that? Nothing.

So I’m thinking  about that this week.

  • Frugal Muse is a local bookstore alternative.  Did you know if they don’t have the book you’re looking for, they’ll order it and give you 20% off. It’s so easy to just pop over to Amazon and 1-click.  But just think the difference it would make to call up Frugal Muse and place an order?  Remember, if you purchase on-line NOTHING stays local with your purchase.

Ask yourself where you shop often and could you make some changes to support local businesses not chains?

  • I give lots of money to Walgreens. (Yuck!)  One thing I want to do is research local pharmacies and find one to that I can put my dollars into a local business.  Why not.  I fill prescriptions every month.  I want as much of my money to stay local.
  • Ancora Coffee. Is the best coffee around in my opinion.  Can be purchased at local grocery stores like Sentry.  Ancora Coffee can also be purchased in local coffee shops, though I’m not sure which ones.  I bet I could find out! Friday, rather than get revved at Starbucks (I love me some Starbucks) try a local place like EVP.  No there’s no drive-thru, but that’s okay.
  • Speaking of Sentry Foods, they have a local campaign telling you everything in their store made within 100 miles of their store.  You can walk through the store and make decisions about purchasing based on local businesses you want to support.  I think that’s awesome.  Of course Woodman’s is local and owned by the people.  And cheap, nice and cheap.
  • The Camera Company.  Rather than make my purchases online, which I like to for ease of shopping in my pajamas, pop down there or get on their website.

Ask yourself where you eat out?

Rather than choosing a chain, consider one of the amazing local cuisines.  There are so many.  What are your favorite local eateries?  I’d like to know!! I’ll make a list and post it later.

Almost $70 of every $100 spent is a pretty daunting number!

Shopping local, independent shops might take a little research.  But think how good you you feel!!!  Rather than suck up to the giant conglomerates you’ll drink from the fountain of pure and  local.

  1. Choose three local independent shops and/or restaurants.
  2. Spend at least $50 (or more) and rest in the knowledge that almost 70% of each dollar you spend will go back into your community.

What are the top things you spend money on?  CDs?  Books.  Medication.  Food.  Gas.  Guitars (okay that’s just Tom.)

If we make smart local choices this about the different we’ll make in our local economy.  It may not always be the cheapest choice, but in the long run it may just be the tipping point to keep our local economy alive.

I chose Black Friday for this wonderful investment, but it could be any day in the shopping season.

Please let me know the three businesses you choose!!!

Yeah, boycott big chains this Friday!!!!!!!!!!

P.S.  Last year I wrote about spending $100 locally. (So okay, maybe I did have this idea first.) But seriously, it’s pretty good.  Read it.

P.P.S.  Obviously, this is geared toward Madison, but the same applies to any local economy.  Just do it!  Let me know your three choices whether you are here locally in Madison or elsewhere!

If it’s good enough for the President it’s good enough for me. Or: Collard Greens: good for you.


Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

I read ‘somewhere’ that Collard Greens are really, really good for you, a cancer fighting green rich in antioxidants and vitamins and tons of fiber.  One cup of cooked collards offers your full daily Vitamin A, half your C and over 800 percent of your vitamin K.

A few weeks ago I posted this short entry (below) on Collard Greens asking for good recipes.  I got no responses.  And I’m thinking it’s because most of the people who read my blog are mostly white folk.  It turns out most white folk think Collard Greens are a nasty weed and we don’t know what to do with it.

Last night, at the first White House State Dinner , among other delicious things Collard Greens were on the menu and that got me looking and reading again.

And I want to cook them.  Help me out?

It turns out their pedigree dates back 2,000 years.  (And though they can’t spell Mediterranean …)

They originated, like kale, their kin, in Turkey, migrating, along with folks who grew it, to Greece and Rome. Julius Caesar allegedly treated collard greens as medicine, eating them after banquets to insure good nutrition and digestion.

Collards became a hit all over Europe and were introduced to America in the 17th century. They grew prolifically, especially in the South. While plantation owners considered collards weeds, slaves used the free and plentiful greens to make the humblest of meals sustaining and nourishing.  Despite their Mediterranian roots, they’re sturdily American.

Most of us know collards, if we know them at all, from the way slaves prepared them – as a mess o’ greens, slow-braised with pig parts. Collards are also a component of hopping john, a filling stew combining collards, black-eyed peas, which the slaves brought over from Africa . . . and more pig parts.

Now is the time collards flourish, and not just in the White House garden.  (Source:  http://www.meatlessmonday.com)

So I ask again, does anyone have good recipe for Collard Greens? Someone who has actually cooked them. Or will I have to go digging?

———————————————————————————

November 11th, 2009

Does anyone have a good recipe for Collard Greens?

Mine was bitter. Is this from the way I cooked it or something else I might have done?

They look so yummy but even with garlic and butter/olive oil they were super bitter.

C’ mon people. Let me know!!

Was this sexist?

Here’s how it went down.  I was invited by my sister Paula to take photographs of her new church.  She is having her church website updated and wants it before Christmas.

After three years of seminary and commuting to work part-time at a church near Milwaukee for even longer, she’s recently gotten an appointment at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, in Monona, Wisconsin.  She has been there for about three months as head pastor.

I am very proud of her and excited to help out in any way I can.  I went over on Sunday to get some shots of the morning service and activities.

She’s talking to one of the people helping her prepare for the service, a man, who notices me taking pictures.   She says something to him and  he smiles and says something.  She has an indecipherable but polite look on her face, which I can’t hear because they are about ten feet away but they are clearly talking about me.

I approach questioningly?

As I walk up she tells me: “He said that you got the  good looks in the family.”

A shocky-kind-of-limbo comes over me, which is what always happens in these situations, while I try to decipher what’s going on.  He really just said that to his pastor?  Seriously?  Should she be insulted?  Should I?  Yes, my gut tells me.  And yes.

This is one of the most subtle types of sexism.  A comment masked as compliment but clearly designed (whether consciously or not) to make women uncomfortable.

I say, “You got the brains.” as I try to remember that  joke about “age before beauty.” No that doesn’t apply and why am I trying to be funny, except that I feel uncomfortable and I don’t know what to say.  Commenting on her smarts was all I could think of, in the spur of the moment.

She says, “We’re just smart about different things.  You’re definitely the better dresser.”

We both fall into a lame quiet, while neither of us knows what to say.   They begin to talk about microphones or something related to the service.  I finally mumble something about more photos and walk away, feeling sad and wishing my sister didn’t have to deal with stupid people constantly reminding her she’s a woman.

Was it sexist of him to talk about my looks? To refer to and rate his pastor’s looks by implication?  He was meeting his pastor’s sister for the first time who cares about our looks, I mean really?

When I got home, after a twenty-minute drive, I was still bothering over it and I asked Tom what he thought?

And now I’m asking you.  Was it sexist and what would you have said?

Of course I obviously do believe that this comment was sexist.  It’s a work situation and a man is commenting on his pastor’s looks.  However he does it , no matter his motives it is wrong.  Saying something in a moment like that is hard because I don’t want to make things harder for Paula or create a scene. But saying nothing is worse. Looking back, I know that both of our silence is interpreted as agreement, indifference, or fear.

And so I sit here simmering, thinking about what I should have said.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Resource:  I found this website to be incredibly helpful as I sorted through my feelings and the facts.  If you’re new to the topic or still sorting these things through, give it a look and come back and tell me what you think?  http://www.stopsexistremarks.org/

Nightmares: A conversation with my son.

 


Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

He says out of the blue, driving down the rode:

I want to live with you forever, Mom.  Because — what if  — I’m homeless some day?

Trying to understand what exactly he is trying to say, I reply:

You can always live with me, if you’re down and out or homeless. I would never let you live on the streets. Besides that doesn’t happen to very many people…

[pause to think and choose my words carefully]

… usually if you are willing to work hard (really Melody? homeless people aren’t willing to work hard?) and are smart enough to do well in school (this isn’t going well, because I’ve met homeless who are PhD’s) you will not end up homeless. (Which I know very well isn’t always true.  I considered launching into something about mental illness, and drug addiction and family, and job loss being contributing factors.

And then I realized he was just scared and I couldn’t make him understand something that I don’t completely.)

He said:

But what if I can’t find you? If I don’t know where you live?

I said:

You will always know where I am. You can always call me.

(And I found myself explaining about calling collect. )

I will always take your collect call.

Why is he thinking about this? He’s ten. Why is he so scared?

It’s about pain: Concern for Christian women in the church

This is a followup to writing about multi-ethnicity, race and culture and the culturally insensitive and offensive book, Deadly Viper. I’ve concluded that the only way to change that story is to boycott the book but even that is ineffective. And apparently the authors are “good guys” and they didn’t mean any harm. Okay.  Beyond that, I’m going to continue to follow and cheer on, virtually, my (new) Asian American contacts, for they must continue to raise their concerns about WHY this is so inappropriate.  If you want to do something, here’s the email for the appropriate person to contact at Zondervan, the VP of PR and Communication, Jason.Vines@Zondervan.com.

I keep reading on (mostly) from women blogging, and here, that aspects of Deadly Viper are offensive to women, to which I heave a sigh of frustration!  I don’t want to read their silly book.  I’m not ready to talk about my pain and concerns for Christian women in the church.  And I do not look forward to writing this post which is essentially about PAIN! Yes, pain.

Before you, dear reader, get annoyed because we women are always offended, please understand how much I do not want to talk about this, knowing you think I should stop whining.

For me it starts with questioning why people, but Christians especially, cause one another pain so needlessly?  And especially why do we cause pain for those that are different from us?  Why are Christians so dogmatic, so closed-minded, so unwilling to change, so proud, and so damn selfish?  This is a serious generalization, but I cannot stand the reputations that Christians have right now in the media and in any secular context.  I cannot stand the way many, many Christians behave, it’s embarrassing!  We, above all, as followers of Christ are instructed to love, as Jesus loved (Remember the poor, the meek, the widow, the prisoner.)

If a person is in pain, whose fault is it?  I’m especially cognizant of this question because I have three kids very close in age and my husband and I are constantly being called upon to administer justice. (i.e. break up fights.)  Is it: a) their own fault for being too sensitive or getting hurt? b) the fault of the person who caused the pain in the past so it’s pushing buttons and causing additional anguish, or c) the fault of the person who caused the pain this time?

I suspect though, as we try to figure out who did what to whom and why, that we are asking the wrong questions.  Someone was hurt and pain occurred.  Where do we go from here?  How to make it right.  How to create conversation and learn?  These are the things I try to work through with my children and these are the things we should focus on now, as it relates to very difficult painful experiences.

Let’s be real. Racism exists.  Homophobia is very real. And I can step up boldly to the mike and say: SEXISM IS REAL and alive, though I genuinely wish it were not so.  And it causes minorities, gays and women pain, sometimes deeply, scarring because it is often repeatedly happening.

And yet we live with it.  We learn to get along. Sometimes we even smile and act polite; we don’t want to offend.  occasionally, we get angry.  Women don’t want to be perceived as a bitch.  Christians don’t want to be perceived a liberal.  Many don’t want to be labeled a feminist.  Hardly anyone is willing to, dare I say it, admit to being a person that loves gay people.  And so we live with the pain of repeated offenses, getting along, and leaning on those who are the lightning rods for us, like Dr. Soong Chan Rah and Kathy Khang .   I’m not so sure who other lightning rods are for women but I appreciated Julie Clawson on the topic this week.

So where do we go from here?

I haven’t been in the fray for a long time.  And I haven’t missed it, not really.  But allow me to tell you a true story, the short version of nearly ten years of my life.  Every word is true although admittedly my perspective. I worked for many years for a para-church organization.  I was lucky in that  I was given tons of responsibility and opportunities for leadership.  I was using my abilities, influencing, it was a good place.   As fast as I could catch I was being thrown responsibility and I love it.  I was Gen X right when Gen X was a hot topic and I was able to bring that to the organization’s communications efforts.  admittedly, I was promoted quickly over just a few years.

Running parallel to this was a tension growing between myself and another leader.   He was older (by two decades ), intellectual, theological, super influential and made a big splash all the time and he had made himself integral to all aspects of the organization.

I was an up and comer and although people liked my work, and my work ethic and my productivity, it wasn’t long before it was clear that we were competitors.  There are more spiritual ways of saying it without sounding crass, but there’s only so much turf in a small organization and we both wanted it.  Were fighting for it all the time.  Oh, not to each others’ faces but in everything we did we were working toward taking charge of the area of communication. Trust me I was not a perfect leader by any means, but I would say probably my greatest vice (other than an insane desire to be perfect and in control of everything and working too hard) was working my staff too hard and not providing enough coaching.  No one had ever coached me and I didn’t know how, but that’s another topic (throwing leaders into the fire without grooming them.)  His vice?  Temper temper.  He threw a Bible at my friend in anger.  He treated people (below him) horribly.  Severe abuse which I would hear about and would bring up with my supervisor and it hit the President’s office and stayed there.  They were buddies.

Being an emotional person, I cried floods of tears at home in bed to my husband and I prayed, but at work I tried to prove to everyone what I “just knew” — that I was supposed to be the one in charge.  I was young, innovative, I was ‘the future.’  Meanwhile, I was also having babies while working full-time.  I would have these meetings with my supervisor where I would try to make him understand how horrible it all was the infighting and how people were being treated and that people were leaving the organization because of this person, and as he said “We waded through blood together.”

Then one day he brought me into his office and he had a time line on the whiteboard.  I kid you not, he had a time line for my life where I would finish out the current assignment, I would go be a mommy for a few years, and this person would have retired and then I would come back and rule!  Once I got over the hurt, knowing that he was done advocating for me AND  he was essentially telling me I had gone as far as I was going to there.  So I finished the gig I had and quit.  That was nine years ago and I haven’t gone back and they haven’t asked me.  Draw your own conclusions.

AND SO I FOUND A PARTIAL COPY OF DEADLY VIPERS ONLINE.

I began to read.  I first learned one of the authors owns a Media Firm (Yikes! What a revelation!)  They need some sensitivity training.  But I digress, sort of.  I’d like to ask the authors of Deadly Vipers if they have daughters.  Because if they do, how can they speak so diminutively about girls and women?  Here’s an example:

“there’s little old us looking like school girls with plaid skirts on, because we are unskilled and undisciplined in the area of character. We’re weaklings with rail skinny arms and toothpick legs.” DV, page 8

I have a daughter.  I am a daughter and a woman and I must say I resent being used as an example of weak and pathetic, totally lacking in character and discipline and I do not want my daughter thinking that she is either.  Even worse, would be my sons learning about “leadership” from macho, cool, trendy dewdes.

These guys are my worst nightmare.  They even make fun of ugly people!! Yes, I mean nerds, geeks, “four eyes,” me.  Yep guys, you’ve gone and made me mad.  How can you use ugly people in such a way?  So that did make me cringe and wonder at their sophomoric attempts at humor, and cool, and their strange lingo.  But I stopped reading when I read the phrase:  “We are asking you to go balls out with us.” mostly because I had to look it up.  They can’t mean what I think they mean …?  Go look for yourself, but I can tell you that you exclude women from your book at this point boys, as this is something that we just physically can’t do.

So forget about Deadly Vipers.  I’m tired of that topic already and I don’t really want to beat up on these poor guys.  They are just trying to be cool, and hip and relevant.  Just trying is what they are doing, trying too hard.

I shall put my Communications hat on for a second and tell Zondervan and their PR people what I think.

1) Say you’re sorry and you messed up, when you’re sorry and you mess up. Just do it cause it will make you a stronger person. Humility is a part of integrity.  Then, fix it.

Once I produced a poster for a convention featuring all sorts of images of people serving in different capacities.  What I didn’t notice, nor did the graphic designer, or a whole slew of other people who saw the thing, that all of the servees were ethnic and/or darker skinned and the servers were lighter skin.  The posters got a reaction from our multi-ethnic staff.  I was crushed.  But I had messed up.  So, I pulled the posters and they were trashed.  We quickly redid a promo poster and I can tell you that I will never forget that.  Not because I messed up, but becuase I saw how you can do so and survive if your heart is remorseful and you are willing to change.

2) Change your infrastructure. You must have women and minorities at the table on all levels of your organization if you want to stop making these huge grotesque blunders.  (Well they are huge and grotesque to me.)  In the board room, in the leadership, in the communications team, as your artists and ideas people.  I’m not an ethnic minority so I can’t speak to that, but there are people who consult on such things who could generally help the communications of an organization by having advice on the ways that you communicate and what you’re saying.  I am a woman with a background in communications/marketing and I could easily look over anything quickly to tell you if it’s insulting to women.

3) If that seems too impossible a task (to hire us I mean) then get your organization some cultural sensitivity training.  Again, tons of firms that could help both secular and Christian.  Every person on staff should get such training.

And then tonight I read about Presidential hiring process at Wheaton College and to be honest I had no idea it had gotten to be so backward.  One would assume that Wheaton would hire the best qualified person.  Discrimination on the basis of race, ethnicity, or sex is not only illegal, but morally wrong.  I cannot believe that people feel they need to ask that some women and minority candidates be considered,but like Justice Sonia Sotomeyor said,

“if you are a white male who thinks that race and gender don’t matter, conjure up the image of a Supreme Court made up of all-hispanic and black women, and you will know how the rest of the US feels when faced by the prospect of an overwhelmingly white male Supreme Court.”

If women want an equal world, we have to work for it by accepting positions of authority and responsibility.  Not by walking away from the fight, like I did.  But I gave it everything and frankly almost lost my faith in the process.  And so, I have to look forward to a day when men work side by side with women,  people of every color and stripe, with joy and common purpose. That did not happen for me, but I speak out because I hope that things will be better for my sons and daughters, for my nieces and nephews who are all bi-racial or of a minority culture.   It will be a better world for them.  It just has to be.

Fundamentally, it is our hearts that give us up every time.  And out of our hearts spew what we believe.  It’s our hearts that need changing.

CS Lewis wrote: The heart never takes the place of the head: but it can, and should, obey it.

Enough for tonight.

SOME DAY: A poem about Siblings (Not) Getting Along

Some Day

Some day I won’t have to ask the question: Why do siblings war?

This I know.

Tattered hearts are the consequence.

It is said by some that soon you will be the best of friends.  And so I listen

from the next room, and wonder and think

it is said so assuredly, but that slippery truth isn’t now,

only some day.  You know what I think?

Some day, if you are lucky, you will long to share breakfast with your brother

and he’ll live miles away.  Or he may be

distracted, distressed or in a disagreement with you.

Life seems to get in the way

of some day.   As for today,

as you kick and scream on the couch demanding

your own way

I can only listen from the other room and pray, for some day.

Written October 28, 2009

This Strange Desire: On Materialism & Image

Day 3 of 365, October 9, 2009

It’s obvious to anyone who looks at me that I care about clothes.  Aesthetics are important to me.  But more than that, let’s face it, I have thing for clothing.  Shoes.  Bags.  Scarfs.  Coats ….Oh, and my favorite in the fall: hats!!  I collect brooches. When I am particularly self-aware it’s a little sickening. It is materialistic.  But I just enjoy the hunt and enjoy creating a look.

I am also sometimes guilty of prejudging a person based on their way of dressing; their hair, glasses and shoes do say a lot about a person, I have always thought.  But now I’m seeing that it says something more about me.

It is hard to face this superficial response in myself, but at the very least I thought it was an internal issue sort of between me and my maker.  And not so obvious to others.  I was wrong! (More on this later.)

Beyond that, I struggle with addictive, compulsive behaviors so I have been known to go gonzo at thrift stores.  I love deals. It is the missionary kid in me who just beams in pride at finding a name brand jacket for $3.50 at the Goodwill.  But then I find shoes that match, and five more  jackets, all name brands and I buy them all.  This has caused stress to our finances and consternation in my marriage.  I should go on record to say that I have the most understanding and forgiving husband, although he has his own little issue with guitars.  Don’t we all have something? And I digress.

For me it’s clothes.  And I got to thinking about how much time, energy and money I spend thinking about this thing, which can only be summed up as IMAGE.  Ew!!  It leaves a bad taste in my mouth and it is hard to admit, sadly, how much I consider these things. But what really got me thinking is something that happened with my daughter, Emma, who is eleven in her first year of middle school.

Getting ready for soccer she declares she “can’t go” because she can’t show up at Dock later (church group) sweaty and gross!  Of course I begin to wax eloquent about how she knows that’s not what’s important. It’s her personality that will make her friends and it’s her character that will keep them … and she shouts over me from the stairs, saying something she doesn’t even believe (I hope!)

“How – you – look – is – everything!

That – is – how – people – decide – if – you’re – worth – talking – to!”

What have I done?  It has gone too far.

I heard an advertisement recently saying “Just because times are tight doesn’t mean you should have to stop wearing designer labels!” 

As I sit on the stairs, looking at my daughter I face the superficiality that I have lived, colliding with the values that I want my daughter to have.

And I came face-to-face with the fact that my need for and desire for self-expression was having a poor impact on my daughter.  And as I had already been facing it, which is how god seems to work in my life, I ready myself to pledge  to face this consumerism, materialism and image-focus in my life, by refusing to shop for clothes for myself for 365 days.  (I actually started two days ago, so I have 363 day left.)

I am rejecting the United States economic system that says consumption as ‘patriotic’ and the messages that we constantly hear that  image is what makes a person good, attractive and interesting.  I face  my own hypocrisy, while hopefully being an example to my daughter that she is more than the Old Navy skinny jeans and Converse tennies that she wears.  I am more than my Calvin Kleins and Danskos.

As a 43-year-old mother of four, hausfrau, I have very few things in my life that differentiate me from others.  I live in the suburbs, until recently I drove a soccer mom van for eight years.  But surely my house, my car, my clothing do not define me.

I believe that intellectually, but I am not living that way.  As an aside, it took long enough but thankfully I recognized the car thing before I bought myself a cute little JEEP and opted for the Honda Accord.  (I’ve longed for that JEEP since I was 16,  but that teenage dream dies here.)

I remember a  young New York socialite I met at an Urbana convention, who was so confronted by her own materialism & consumerism in contrast with the needs of the world’s poor, that she pledged to not buy clothes for a whole year. Of course at the time I thought she was nuts and felt a little jealous because I could never do that!

But, as I sat there staring up at my daughter on those stairs, I knew that’s what I would do.  I can do it.  I will.

I like challenges and so for one year I will see what it’s like to not cave to trends of fashion or consumerism.  I will use what I have.  Borrow if need be.  Get by with what’s in my closet.  Thankfully, I already own a lot of clothes and accessories.  (And I will always take donations from friends.)   There will be times when a special event will come up and I will find this hard: like Tom’s work trip to the Bahamas.   Remind me then what I have said here and we’ll see how it goes!

For now, who knows what I’ll do with all the unspent money.  A donation to my church’s Advent Conspiracy Offering, for sure. Around Christmas time, last year, they encouraged us to give up one gift and give it to the poor raising over $100,000.   It was very cool.   But kids grow quickly as well.  Irregardless of the money I wonder what this will teach me about my fragile sense of self?  Of course, I will blog (maybe once a week) on what I am learning, or reflecting on, people’s reactions, my own issues.

And, if by now you’ve decided that I am crazy but you agree with the idea of doing something you just don’t buy into a whole year, you are in luck.  November 27th is International Buy Nothing Day here in North America and the next day elsewhere. Buy nothing for one day.  It will send a message, make you think, give perspective.

Although nominated five times, Mohandas Gandhi never won the Nobel Peace Prize.  He once said: “A nation’s culture resides in the hearts and in the soul of its people.” and he also said: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

Children are always absorbing Culture, Priorities and Values from us and I capitalize them intentionally.  Many time much more so than our words, our actions show them how to live.  Thankfully, it’s not too late.  No so suddenly, I know that my desire is to live honorably and to teach my beautiful girl something good, lasting and though difficult will profoundly change both of our lives.

See this for my 2nd entry on My Year Without New Clothes.

So how does a feminist, at-home mom answer the question: What do you do?

I hate that question!

And I hate that I hate it.

Unless you’ve spent some time (more than a month) at home managing things and people, you can’t imagine how the following realities can possibly be true.

When I say that I am a part-time free-lance photographer, I usually gets responses of  “Oh, cool” or “Oh wow” and just slightly impressed gazes.  I know what they are thinking when I say I am also an at-home mom.  I am an out-of-work-highly-skilled-workaholic-manager who hasn’t been able to transfer that skill to home and doesn’t have another job.

It’s true.  My many failings as a house-keeper are evident to anyone who spends more than a few minutes in my home.  I sometimes take images for others, and get paid.  Others I donate my time to like Our Lives magazine (I did this cover and usually have something in every issue. But most of the time my photography is for my own pleasure.  I spend my days super busy and yet at the end of the day I have usually (not always) not made a cent and quite the opposite have undoubtedly helped the economy along.

How do I spend my days?  What’s currently going on … ?

I spend a lot of time and even more soul energy, advocating for my children in the public school system.

When I am on my game I spend quite a good amount of time studying the Bible.  (I can’t take anyone’s word for it any more when it comes to my faith and understanding of things in the Bible.)

My yard is sorely neglected but it is beautiful and has a garden (providing amazing tomatoes, banana peppers, leeks and carrots, Bok Choy, and beans and different herbs.  I am an on again, off again composter but I mow my own yard and sometimes my aging neighbor’s.

My eight year old has — count them — eight cavities and will see the dentist four times this month, along with an orthodontist.   He has the unfortunate combination of: loves sugar, bad hygiene habits, and simply has bad teeth.  He also needs an appointment with an Audiologist, and a Psychologist, and I’m late signing him up for speech therapy/tutoring he receives twice weekly through the UW. I want to sign him up for football, because soccer was not his sport and with his auditory and focus challenges and issues, I think catch the ball and run will be right up his alley.  His IEP will be written at the first of October.  I need to contact a disability rights advocacy group, and figure out how to get his IEP working for him with or without that group, and check in weekly with the teachers, working on things at home.

It’s no wonder my eleven year old thinks she never gets my attention and she has started speaking stridently about e v e r y t h i n g.  (At least I hope that’s why she’s so exercised about every little thing.) It’s absolutely not true about my time, but I do have a lot going on with Jacob.

My middle child is creative and happily goes about his movie making, hoping to slip under the radar.  But he needs daily help with reading and homework whether he wants it or not.

My mother is 72 and although living independently we are beginning to have conversations about managing life.  She has two doctor appointments that I will attend and will require follow-up.  She’s broken her shoulder and so I do her laundry, fetch things, shop and visit daily.  I aim for daily at least.  Now I think she is ready to look into continued living facilities and has asked me to help her find them and go to appointments.  That will happen after she gets out of the assisted facility she is in for her rehab.

I got the physicals done thankfully, with shots for Emma going into Middle School and they asked my kid, like they have for … nine or ten years, … DOES YOUR FAMILY HAVE A FIRE SAFETY PLAN?  NO, No, for the last bloody time we don’t and probably never will!!!!!!!!!!  Lingering Guilt…  My advice in a fire is run!

I can’t seem to stay on top of my daughter’s soccer schedule and commitments, because we missed a seemingly innocuous parent meeting: I didn’t go and Tom didn’t get out of the car. And that’s all I’ll say about it, but she has two practices a week and a game which my husband helps to chauffeur,  for which I am grateful.

Speaking of husbands, I have a book at Borders recommended by a good friend, The Passionate Marriage (by David Schnark) which I haven’t had time to pick it up much less read, or work on that passion!  But I am hungry for connection with my husband, because we have reached those dangerous years when we are so busy “doing” for the kids that we hardly touch base.  The main time we see one another is 6:00 pm daily when we eat dinner as a family.

I am 14 months into my recovery from alcohol addiction and this recovery takes work – time and energy, energy and time.  I missed my Alcohol counseling appointment this month because it was the only day we had free to use already purchased tickets to Noah’s Ark, which we had been rained out of twice already, and the summer was over in a week.  But I haven’t even had time to do my Step 2 homework, so although I need to go, I’m not ready.

Every strain of life seems to be leading back to nutrition and health, with Jacob’s sugar fixation, Tom and I feeling lethargic and being over weight, my kids being a bit chubby, my high cholesterol, etc, etc.  I barely make it to the store, or to cook meals, much less read the 300 page book on Family Nutrition.  Even if I skimmed it I just want to sit down and  …. sigh.

I hadn’t had my teeth cleaned in a year, but did recently and have confirmed TMJ and need to schedule with a specialist.  Any surprise that I grind my teeth at night?  Some mornings I wake up with headache reminiscent of my old hangovers and my jaw pops all day long.  The dentist recommends I quit chewing gum, the same gum that I was chewing so that I could quit smoking.  Sore jaw or smoking withdrawal.  Hm….. Life is full of choices.

I had skin cancer last year and need a followup appointment, my doctor moved, so I have to get a new doctor, and a new appointment.  I have moles that are looking strange, but it will likely be winter before I get to it.

My neighbors have apples that need picking, free for the taking, but I keep buying them at the store because I don’t have time to go pick them.

When all is said and done (or undone) I will go pick an apple, breathe, and rethink whether it matters what my dentist, or anyone else, thinks about what I do all day?

Everyone’s life is full of challenge and we may or may not get to it all.   I go to bed night after night with my to do list still swirling around undone.  But big picture, this is exactly the right job for me, for now, for today, for this moment.

Mastery of Life: About Face!

The whole idea of blogging about diet and exercise is such a pedestrian stereotype. But be warned, this is a journal about a personal transformation. No, even better, my personal body revolution!  No blood will be shed, but change is occurring!  And if, by following along, it is meaningful to others, that’s a reward too.  I won’t be preposterous  and say it with help someone.  But I know MANY people struggle with  “issues” of weight loss or gain, disordered eating and body hatred, so that’s why I make this journal public.  It will be about mastering my body and life.

A week ago Sunday I began to use our treadmill for a long walking workout.  Every day, I walk for at least an hour, because this gives my body a “wake up” time and then once it (my body) is fully awake and functional, I give it a good hard sweat.  Doing this, I am able to burn from 500-750 calories in about an hour.  And I feel great afterwords.  I drink about 32 oz. of water during and after the workout and am feeling really good.  I know I just said that, but it bears repeating!  This type of workout makes me feel really, really good.

When I quit drinking in July, 08 my weight was up to 169, which is the very highest my weight has ever been when not pregnant or recovering from pregnancy.  I’ve always said I will never ‘get fat’ I am not certain that I have the willpower to take it off.  As members of my family have struggled with their weight for years, the yo-yo of a life of dieting was something I feared.  I do not want that!!  I’m afraid of that eventuality.  An yet, here I am at 42 and 168 or so pounds, and the scale and my BMI tell me I am over-weight at 5’6″.  As I said, I thought when I quit drinking that the weight would drop off, but I guess that my body had adjusted and was comfortable with it.  This puts me at a size 14 and uncomfortable.  For about a half a year I have been in MAJOR denial about this weight gain.  But you can’t deny it forever and hitting 170 would be it for me.  There’s no denying it.

Since giving birth to three kids in 1997, 1999 and 1991, I carried about ten pounds for each child.  In 1992 I tried the first diet of my life more out of a desire to be supportive to Tom.  I can actually say that South Beach diet works and I lost 17 pounds in about two months.  I was a beautiful size ten and I have to say that I felt fantastic.  I wasn’t working out at all and people told me I looked “unhealthy.”  But for the first time in years the heavy, bloated, thick-waisted feeling was gone.

So now, in my closets I have my skinny clothes (did I just say my skinny clothes? Ew!) (9-10s), my medium clothes (11-12s), and my heavy clothes (solid 14).

All this rambling brings me to today.  As already mentioned, a week ago Sunday I started working out and watching my calories.  Tom’s the kind of dieter that counts calories, tallying in his mind all day long.  When he gets to his limit he stops eating.  For me, counting calories doesn’t work.  I can’t remember the value of everything and after about three or four days of writing everything down on scrap pieces of paper in the kitchen, I want to scream and stop writing things down.   But with eating through out the day and then a workout to subtract and have no idea where I am.

During the first week, I fluctuated up and down, but couldn’t break the 165 barrier.  Frustrated and confused, I kept limiting calories and exercising every day, and drinking lots of water…. Yesterday, finally, after two weeks, I weighed in at 165.  Today it is 166 again.

OH, just to be clear: My commitment is daily exercise and I’m going to apply Phase I of the South Beach Diet.  The South Beach is perfect for me.  It’s simple, healthy, and kicks my body into turbo calorie burning.  I need the  immediate results.  I can’t wait to see what happens next although today I’m frustrated to not see results yet.  To be sure, it didn’t help to eat some birthday cake last night.  Strictly speaking I broke all the rules, but, I’m back on the plan today.  Cheese and meat for breakfast.  Lots of water.  I woke up with a pick ax behind my eyeballs, which has been a reoccurring problem and Tom’s theory is I’m dehydrated.

More later on, the psychology of dieting and the South Beach program and why I like it.

Goal: 140 March 15th!

1/16/09 168

Music Makes Kids Smart

The policies of George W. have forced many cuts to local school budgets over the last eight years.

One cut  we have felt is that 4th graders at our elementary school can no longer learn a string instrument until 5th and they may cut the Strings Program all together.

Emma is in fifth. Since third grade she’s taken the standardized tests required by George W, which tell us what we already knew, she’s extremely intelligent.

Someone should tell old Dubya, that study after study has shown that learning music can make kids smarter.

When your child learns to play a musical instrument, not only does he learn how to make tunes, but he also enhances other capabilities of his brain as well:

* A 10 year study involving 25,000 students show that music-making improves test scores in standardized tests, as well as in reading proficiency exams (Source: James Catterall, UCLA, 1997).
* High school music students score higher on the math and verbal portion of SAT, compared to their peers (Profile of SAT and Achievement Test Takers, The College Board, compiled by Music Educators Conference, 2001).
* The IQ’s of young students who had nine months of weekly training in piano or voice rose nearly three points more than their untrained peers (Study by E. Glenn Schellenberg, of the University of Toronto at Mississauga, 2004.)
* Piano students can understand mathematical and scientific concepts more readily. Children who received piano training performed 34 percent higher on tests measuring proportional reasoning – ratios, fractions, proportions, and thinking in space and time (Neurological Research, 1997).
* Pattern recognition and mental representation scores improved significantly in students who were given a 3-year piano instruction (Dr. Eugenia Costa-Giomi study presented at the meeting of the Music Educators National Conference, Phoenix, AZ, 1998).
* Music students received more academic honors and awards than non-music students. These music students also have more A and B grades compared to non-music students (National Educational Longitudinal Study of 1988 First Follow-Up, U.S. Department of Education).
* More music majors who applied for medical school were admitted compared to those in other majors including English, biology, chemistry and math. (“The Comparative Academic Abilites of Students in Education and in Other Areas of a Multi-focus University,” Peter H. Wood, ERIC Document No. ED327480; “The Case for Music in Schools”, Phi Delta Kappan, 1994)

Other research also linked music making with increased language discrimination and development, improved school grades, and better-adjusted social behavior.  Why does this happen? What is at work here?  and why is George Dubya making decisions that force cutting music programs around the country?

Why Dubya, why???

Ten Things I Gave Up Because of the Recession

Ten things I gave up because of the Recession  … Not in order of importance.

  1. Coffee shops. Though I still drink good coffee at home, I no longer get that when I am out and about.
  2. Book Stores. My husband swears I could read for about two years (or longer) on the books I currently own, but I have given up purchasing books.  That’s a compulsion that is hard to change but important.
  3. Sentry grocery store. I love the beautiful atmosphere including classical music, but I’ve given it up for the prices at Woodmans and Trader Joes.  And frankly, I don’t miss seeing wine on every corner associated with all the good food I like.
  4. Shopping. I no longer shop for ‘entertainment.’  Okay, don’t judge.  It is something that I enjoy(ed.)
  5. Eating out. We just don’t do it.  Before it was a way to stave off boredom, an anecdote for laziness, and somehow a ‘reward.’
  6. Cambodia. Enough said.
  7. Our Dishwasher. It broke, burning out in a blaze of glory and it won’t be replaced for a while.
  8. Furniture in our Living Room. Our cat George has issues related to peeing and we’ve lost furniture, rugs, pillows all because of it.  They won’t be replaced for a very long time.
  9. Gourmet cheeses. Yummmmm.  The older the better.  Stick to grocer Sharp Cheddar.  Oddly difficult for me.
  10. Canceling magazine subscriptions that we don’t read, except PASTE magazine, which is awesome and you get a CD of cool new music each month.  (By the way, no more CD purchases, dearest Tom.  We have to stop!)

On the short list for what’s next: Piano tuning. It hasn’t been tuned for three years and it won’t be this winter. Vacations & travel of any kind.  We’re considering cutting Cable although we’ve had ongoing family debates.  The faux Persian rug in our den will not be cleaned.  I’ve been thinking of giving up red meat anyway, because my bad cholesteral is high, but it’s also pricey!

What have you given up if anything?  It doesn’t have to be a neat TEN.  It is interesting how our priorities change as we deal with the prices at the grochery store and the pump.