Category: My Story

Race, ethnicity & culture

UPDATE:  Zondervan has pulled all the material from their shelves and has an official apology here.  I am surprised and in awe of their willingness to do this.

 

I will be the first to admit that I know so very little about race and ethnicity.  And being white, I think my admitting that point right away is the most important way to start (more important than saying what  little I may know.)

My parents (Dan & Shelby Harrison of Wycliffe & InterVarsity) genuinely loved many people from varied cultures and who were in our home some as friends and others as honored guests from all over the world.  I have shared meals with everyone from Chinese international students to high level Russian educators and everyone in between.  I enjoyed listening to their stories and sharing in laughter and good food.  It was an extremely good way to grow up.  It taught me culture is more than simply to food and conversation.

Sometimes I wonder if I truly learned something meaningful from those people and their life experiences.

I have always felt comfortable within other cultures, but  have never felt a part of them.  My dad always said we (Harrison Family) were Heinz 57 or mutts; not really from anywhere.  Now I’m labeled Caucasian and I have no ‘culture’ to speak of, except for the mix of traditions that my parents brought to our family.  My mother is Texan.  My father culturally Chinese.  (Yes, stories for another day.)  In third grade my best friend was Sarah Wakabayashi.  And over the years, with a few exceptions, my friends were diverse.  Because of my experiences as a missionary kid, even though my skin was white, I have always gravitated toward minority culture kids and I found these friends were more accepting.  Majority culture kids just wanted me to become homogenized.

Today, my best friends here in Madison are a first generation Japanese woman and a Malaysian/Scottish woman.  My dearest lifetime, soul mate and friend is African-American and Japanese.  I feel understood by them, accepted.  But sometimes I think about and wonder why I don’t know more about their experiences of race and racism. We have had some conversations but they were hard to say the least.

This week I followed a conversation over the web between some leaders of the Asian American Christian community and the authors of  Deadly Viper published by Zondervan.  [Deadly Viper is leadership book whose art and concepts use Kung fu and Asian-looking graphics, but the book wasn’t written by Asians nor is it about anything Asian.]  I have no way of knowing if I would have been offended by this book seeing it on the shelf without this context, because my first exposure was through the lens of Asians.  But just looking at it from a marketing perspective (which I know something about because of my job with Urbana & InterVarsity) it used Asian stereotypes and it was just plain stupid sounding. (Seriously, sometimes I wonder about the artists at these conservative Christian organizations.  They need a crash course in cultural sensitivity.)  But as I read (as a voyeur that the web strangely allows for) I realized how offensive it would be, & painful, for Asians, as they saw their culture caricatured and used to sell a book.

Some of their leaders called the issue to light including Dr. Soong-Chan Rah, who was one of the first and has received the most flack.  I was especially moved by Prof. Rah’s personal reflections and impressed by the good and gracious hearts of the Asian leaders.  Sadly, until organizations reflect the diversity of the kingdom of God, these blunders will continue. (more later).  “From a distance [it was] a great statement of how we can move positively in the direction of “authentic” reconciliation and journey towards multi-ethnicity.” (a friend Jimmy McGee on Facebook responding to Dr. Rah.)  I’d urge those of you who want to learn more about this, to read Dr. Rah’s blog, which seems to be a place where he helps people like me understand things from an Asian perpective.

All of this has gotten me thinking.

It got me thinking about my friendships over the years.

How well have I listened?  Have I asked the right questions? Or have I been so afraid of offending  and so fearful that I don’t know how to ask.  I am fearful of hurting my friends have I therefore committed the sin of omission?  I do know that acting casual about race wasn’t better than always talking about our differences.  It’s certainly easier (for me) but no, I do not think it is ever better.  I need to do more.

It got me reading.

There are billions of blogs (http://www.racialicious.com/ is a great one) out there where folk talk about their experiences of racism and being from a minority culture.  They are trying to help us majority folk to understand.  It’s out there.  I spent a few hours on Friday night, just following links.  I will post some of that in the future.

It got me feeling.

My sister Paula has written a book on being white in a multi-ethnic world and I haven’t read it.  I’m sorry Paula but it’s now on my bedstand!  See below for a description of the book.  And I personally own many books which speak to the topic, after working at IV.  I should read them.  Two that jumped from the shelf: Living in Color by Randy Woodley and A Beginner’s Guide to Crossing Cultures: making friends in a multi-cultural world, Patty Lane.  I have dozens more.  [guilt]  I guess I’ve always thought that having friends was good (enough.)

It got me listening.

It is important to listen to the painful experiences of minority culture folk, especially in this instance the Asian, and remembering some of the mistakes I made with Urbana communications trying to speak to many different audiences.

I feel profound sadness for the courage of these beautiful people and I don’t even know them.  I’d like to figure out how to ask my own friends about their experiences of race and racism, because I love them and I should know.

It got me remembering.

Nine years ago I wanted (and felt called in many ways) to attend a multi-racial church here in Madison.  It was hard to find one!  How difficult it was to find what “fit” our family.  Mostly my discomfort was my culture rubbing up against others’ and knowing I wasn’t ready to change.

[The only multi-racial church in Madison that I was aware of was Fountain of Life and for me it was very African-American and pentecostal and not as multi-cultural.  (Nothing being bad about African-American or pentecostal, just very different from my life experience.) It was so different from what we were used to, that my family wasn’t ready to sacrifice what was comfortable and known.]

I compromised, on both multi-ethnicity and the issue of women, by attending the church that I do.  I still need to think about this some more but it is a sad and startling realization.

And as for what happened with Zondervan Publishing (a major Christian publisher) .

Well, when will organizations learn that we offend by our ignorance. And we re-offend by our pride and unwillingness to change or admit our ignorance. We must be willing to say “I don’t know” and “I was wrong” and “I’m sorry.”  And even then, our dear friends are so gracious and so tired of saying ‘it’s okay.”  Because it is not okay.

And we can’t stop there.  I can’t stop here.  One week of being worked up about pain caused by whites is not going to change anything.  The Church needs to figure this out.  There’s too much pain here.  It was almost physical for me as I read these comments from dear, dear people.  My friend Noriko says I have a deeply compassionate heart.  She is so good at reminding your of the good qualities.  It’s a double sided blessing Noriko.

My heart is breaking.  The wrong people are at the tables of power. The wrong people are in charge.  What can be done?

I have to leave it here for today.  Dinner to cook.  Homework to supervise.  But before I go, if you are white and just beginning to think about what it means to be white, please read about Paula’s book below.

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

Have you ever thought about what it means to be white?  For me, I am often ashamed of being white.  Or to a lesser degree, I never know what to bring to school for the International Potluck, where you’re supposed to represent your culture.  Well, my own sister has written a book on the topic and below is a description.  — Melody

Are you white? Do you know what this means? Are you aware of racial inequality but have wondered, So what do I do?. Paula Harris and Doug Schaupp present a Christian model of what it means to be white, wrestling with issues of history, power, identity, culture, reconciliation, relationship and community

Being White, by Paula Harris & Doug Schaupp, InterVarsity Press.

What does it mean to be white?

When you encounter people from other races or ethnicities, you may become suddenly aware that being white means something. Those from other backgrounds may respond to you differently or suspiciously. You may feel ambivalence about your identity as a white person. Or you may feel frustrated when a friend of another ethnicity shakes his head and says, “You just don’t get it because you’re white.

  • How can you overcome the mistakes of the past?
  • How can you build authentic relationships with people from other races and ethnicities?

Paula Harris and Doug Schaupp present a Christian model of what it means to be white. They wrestle through the history of how those in the majority have oppressed minority cultures, but they also show that whites also have a cultural and ethnic identity with its own distinctive traits and contributions. They demonstrate that white people have a key role to play in the work of racial reconciliation and the forging of a more just society.

Filled with real-life stories, life-transforming insights and practical guidance, this book is for you if you are aware of racial inequality but have wondered, So what do I do? Discover here a vision for just communities where whites can partner with and empower those of other ethnicities.

My dad: Dan Harrison


dadOriginally uploaded by M e l o d y

My father was diagnosed with two fatal brain tumors November 2002. This rendering (right) is of the last photo ever taken of him. Of course we had no idea that he was going to die a few days later.

I love it, because although he wasn’t able to speak by that time, he was watching his grand kids (my kids) play in the yard and this smile is sooo HIS SMILE! Makes me (smile) just looking at it.

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.  —    Rainer Maria Rilke

This is my dad.  I’m missing him today.  He died May 19th, 2003.  When I look at this picture, it still doesn’t seem to be real.

He traveled a lot.  He was gone as much as he was at home growing up.  So when I think of him as dead, well it’s really more of a gone feeling.  Which is very different than dead.

My dad was a mixed blessing.  I guess you take the good with the bad when it comes to parents.  Right now, I’d take anything from him.  I miss him so much.

With all I have learned about photography, I wish that I had one last chance to take his photo.  Oh how I would have loved that.

I’m looking to hear your thoughts about my dad.

I’ll write more later about mine.  I do have poems about him, but I don’t want to focus on that pain right now.  If you want to read them look under Poetry.

Motherhood is never what you expect.

So, she was diving into a leaf pile.

They were playing in the leaf pile, like it was water. She got carried away and forgot it wasn’t water. When I came running, she was flat on her back and couldn’t get up.

Internally, I was absolutely frieking out. I thought for a brief moment that she had broken her neck. Long story short, after a visit to urgent care she’s okay. Jammed her neck, a muscular issue, but nothing too serious.

She’s actually in a bit of pain, but 200 mg of Ibuprofen does wonders.

And the expectations of motherhood, well, I had planned to spend the afternoon alone, while Tom rehearsed for his show and the kids went out with my friend Layne.

Oh well.

Halloween Loot Beware.

Sour!As we go back and forth in our house about the whole issue of sugar, healthy habits & moderation and the fact that there is too much unhealthy food out there, I have to confess right off we have been living the extremes.

Don’t hate me, but the past few years we have done the let them gorge themselves Halloween night.  And then live the battle, with the “can I have some candy” woes dozens of times a day for weeks afterward.  That approach is pretty much ongoing hell for parents, with strung-out crazy kids right after the event.  And the constant requests are enough to make me want to dump the bags in the trash immediately!

But I’m afraid this year we swung the other direction, pronouncing on Halloween night, that they would be allowed five, count them, 1-2-3-4-5 candies that night and two each day thereafter.

Of course, one of our children declared that we had “ruined Halloween.”  And then, secretly ate half the bag one day when I was unawares.  This person, who shall go unnamed, apparently writhed in guilt for a few hours before stomach or conscious or both caused a confession at dinner.  When I said we need to have her (I mean this person’s) bag of candy “There will be no giving back of my candy, because …it is gone…”  Ha Ha, we were not amused.

But we had to face the fact that our swift pendulum swing into such strict moderation had created another kind  of monster: a lieing and cheating one.

And so I began to hunt for some more reasonable approach and found the following ideas, that seem practical, and healthy and although they still require a parents administration, they make sense and so I pass them on to you.

(adapted from those at www.mealsmatter.org, a Web site supported by the California Dairy Council)

Teach moderation. Overly restrictive rules around candy and other fun foods can backfire and make those foods even more desirable to kids. (Kids hiding or sneaking food behind your back is one clue. we found.) Show children that sweets and dessert can be included in moderate amounts (when you say so) as part of a healthy diet.

Spread it out. Allow kids a few pieces of trick-or-treat candy for dessert after lunch or dinner. Or include a piece or two with more healthful snacks, such as string cheese, vegetables with dip, trail mix, yogurt or a glass of milk.

Be a good role model. Junior may not give a boo for self restraint if he sees Mom or Dad finish off a bag of chips in one sitting.

Show balance. According to the latest Dietary Guidelines for Americans, healthful diet plans that meet all our nutritional recommendations still have room for some “discretionary calories” — additional foods with fat and sugar. For most of us, though, that’s only about an extra 150 to 200 calories per day. (Emphasis mine) That may be a reasonable daily limit for Halloween candy.

Finally, registered dietitian and child nutrition expert Ellyn Satter has this to say about Halloween treats for kids: ”

Your child needs to learn to manage sweets and to keep them in proportion to the other food he eats. The key is to relegate candy to meal and snack times. Maintain the structure of meals and sit-down snacks, with parents retaining their leadership role in choosing the rest of the food that goes on the table. With that kind of structure and foundation, candy won’t spoil a child’s diet or make him too fat.”

That holds for us grown-ups, too. Happy post-Halloween!

Barbara Quinn is a registered dietitian at the Community Hospital of the Monterey Peninsula in California.

Our great lakes hold 20% of the fresh surface water on earth!

The title alone should stop you in your tracks if you care about our gorgeous lakes here in the mid west and upper peninsula or just the planet and our future water resources. Read on!  If you don’t care, even more so, you should read on.  Bottom line, we have to care.

According to Peter Annin, former Newsweek journalist and author of The Great Lakes Water Wars, this is the issue for the next hundred years and beyond.

The residents in the great lakes region need to manage its own precious resource, the lakes, and this is what Annin has been advocating for in Congress and through the excellent journalism in his book, over the last half-dozen years.   “The Great Lakes are a globally significant recourse, holding 20% of the all the fresh surface water on earth.”

Did you hear that? It bears repeating! The great lakes hold 20% of the all the fresh surface water on earth.

Annin  again: “It is good to use the waters in a sustainable way without all the ecological drawbacks that are common in so many parts of North America and the world.”

In my opinion,  and I’ve said this before, water is a key issue for us today. If you’re interested in the book, it can be found in your local bookstores.  (Buy local!)

Here’s the book’s You Tube  commercial  and an interesting ‘interview.’  I learned a lot.  It got me riled up.  Hence this little rant.

You and I need to know more so that we can speak into the issues, but it is difficult for your average person to figure out how to speak out. There are still places in the Great Lakes Water Compact that bear revisiting and there are deadlines, listed below, that are significant.

As always in a contract of this nature, there is concern that standards could be better defined because “reasonable use” bound against “economic benefits” will always put a price on our water.  How much water is a small withdrawal from the lakes, and can be safely diverted without regulation  is still unclear.  But that we have this agreement is significant  and worth celebrating and we should at the very least follow the conversation, the debate and understand how important it is to our future.

According to http://www.rootswire.org, a new collaboration of bloggers aggregating their sites into a nation-wide news reporting system.

After a burst of activity in 2006 and 2007, when state legislatures considered whether to adopt the Great Lakes Compact, progress on implementation has been slow. While some big decisions have been made—for example, almost all states have chosen thresholds for regulation of water withdrawals—the details are lacking. Stakeholders must press for protective actions in the next few years, or the Compact will fail to fulfill its promise.The requirements and their deadlines are:

· By December 8, 2009, a list of baseline volumes for withdrawals, consumptive uses and diversions must be submitted to the Compact Council. These volumes will be used to grandfather in existing users, and thus must be carefully scrutinized.· By December 8, 2010, water conservation and efficiency goals and objectives must be developed; a water conservation and efficiency program must be implemented; and water conservation measures must be promoted. Strong programs and measures are needed to ensure water will be used thoughtfully, and to ensure there will be enough for the future.

· By December 8, 2013, withdrawals and diversions must be registered and a water management program to regulate new or increased withdrawals and consumptive uses must be developed. The registration program is necessary to know how water is being used in the region. A comprehensive water management program will protect ecosystems from the impact of new or increased withdrawals.

The public needs to take part in this conversation and have the water managed to their benefit not commercial benefit.

Read up.  Get informed.  Water is our future.

I would urge you to do some investigating yourself!

Pete is a neighborhood acquaintance. He also manages the Gull Rock Light Keepers, a non-profit organization founded to save the Gull Rock Lighthouse, which Tom and I support.  The lighthouses of the great lakes are a beautiful, practical and most tangible cause which deserve our resources and attention.

“Mommy, I need a hug”


…

 

Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

I know all parents say this, but really she is growing up too quickly all of sudden. I have this overwhelming urge to slow- it- down.

Firstly I think because I have so much yet to learn about  helping her grow into a strong, confident compassionate woman.  I feel as if I am only now learning these things!

But also because I so love the moments when she still says “Mommy I need a hug” and crawls into my lap.  Or, “Mom, you won’t believe what happened.” or, “What would you do if…?”

She’s growing up faster than I’m ready for because the manual on good parenting hasn’t been written, that I’ve found, and I’ve read a lot of them. And the mistakes are piling up. And my fear that I’ll mess it all up seems like an insurmountable mountain.

How does a parent develop a strong sense of authority in a child’s life, without being dogmatic, domineering, scary and just plain s***head. Cause that’s what I grew up with and I’m so afraid of doing that that I fear I am a milk toast.  The level of fear I grew up with makes me cringe when a parent raises their voice, and makes me weak and fearful of my own.

Tell me how you develop the sense of authority in your children’s lives while keeping the sense personal strength, self-knowledge, self-reliance, independence and autonomy that everyone needs, especially young girls.

Please.

Boo!


Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

I sure hope your days are full of fun with kids. If you don’t have kids, I’m sure you’ll enjoy all those little tyke’s comin’ round tomorrow night.  Halloween is simply a fun time for children and a bit of a hassle for parents, in my opinion.  Back in the day (listen to me I sound old!) we used to make up our costumes.  Where’s the fun, really, in buying a costume?  And yet, most every year we run out of time or just can’t think how to make a Darth Vader costume and so we’re off to the store for a costume costing anywhere in the range of $19.99 (without the light saber) to $59.99 which I refuse to pay.  Somehow it’s lost its charm for me with store bought e v e r y t h i n g.

We carved pumpkins yesterday which was fun.  The boys drew a design and I carved.  But Emma would not let me touch hers.  I had to let her learn the hard way, with a small cut on her hand to show for it.  Sometimes it is hard to let them grow up.

I’m still picking the strands and seeds up off the floor and have not sorted out the seeds from flesh yet.  Does anyone have a good recipe for roasted pumpkin seeds.  I have such good memories of that as a child.

But I am not looking forward to implementing a limit on candy!  And I am more and more concerned about the amount of high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) in our diet today.  I have noticed it makes us crazy and sick.

If you’re more than just curious about this, I’d encourage you to read this disturbing article titled The Murky World of High Fructose Corn Syrup.  Here’s a sampling…I’ve highlighted some of the more disturbing results of rats & the scary stuff, HFCS.

Sucrose is composed of glucose and fructose. When sugar is given to rats in high amounts, the rats develop multiple health problems, especially when the rats were deficient in certain nutrients, such as copper. The researchers wanted to know whether it was the fructose or the glucose moiety that was causing the problems. So they repeated their studies with two groups of rats, one given high amounts of glucose and one given high amounts of fructose. The glucose group was unaffected but the fructose group had disastrous results. The male rats did not reach adulthood. They had anemia, high cholesterol and heart hypertrophy–that means that their hearts enlarged until they exploded. They also had delayed testicular development. Dr. Field explains that fructose in combination with copper deficiency in the growing animal interferes with collagen production. (Copper deficiency, by the way, is widespread in America.) In a nutshell, the little bodies of the rats just fell apart. The females were not so affected, but they were unable to produce live young.

A lot more research needs to be done, but this is scary stuff people.

Hold On, Honey (a poem)


In the face of a child

you see a simple belief

that life will always be safe and good.

That they are loved.  Always.

Even when you might yell or sternly scold,

a child forgives. Not really knowing they even need

to forgive.

A child comes  running for a hug and snuggle that says, once again,

everything is going to be okay.

Yes, in the face of a child, everything’s gonna be okay.

A child doesn’t know that they might not eat tomorrow.

A child doesn’t know they may not have a place to sleep tonight.

A child is laughter, joy and expectation of fun. They just want a zooming truck or a pretty doll or a book read, just one.

In the face of a child you find the hope of the whole wide world,

wrapped up in the crinkles around their eyes as they smile,

in those chubby cheeks and baby teeth lined up so nice.

In the sweet, sweaty smell of their body rubbing up against yours.

In a child’s believing eyes there is love.

Their “Good night Mama, I love you” holds more hope than one adult can imagine to feel

in life time.

Hold on to that hope honey. You hold on.

10-28-2009
Written for all children who still smile and for those that have forgotten what it is to be and trust like a child.

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

Feeling Thankful for Love

www.tomhansonmusic.com

Love at first sight is easy

to understand;

it’s when two people have looked

at each other

for a lifetime

that it becomes a miracle.

-Amy Bloom

 

Feeling Thankful

I’m thankful for Tom. My miracle. My best friend.  His heart is good and because of this he is a gentle and loving person. It makes me think of the gospel according to Luke 6:45 : “The good person out of the good treasure of the heart produces good, ….. ; for it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.”

I am often blown by winds of life, but he is sure-footed.  I am often scattered, there is a centeredness to my husband that is beautiful and reassuring to me.  I am often frightened by my past and what it means for our future, especially for our children.  He is solidly behind me encircling me with his belief in me, his hope for transformation through the grace of the New Testament Jesus and the shalom offered there.  My mind is full and my heart as well, of the knowledge and experience of sharing a life with him.

June 5, 1993, we married in the chapel of Christ Presbyterian Church here in Madison, WI.

  • Four children,
  • two houses,
  • three churches and
  • many, many coffee maker’s later.

And more importantly:

  • leaving a career that was important to me,
  • losing my father to cancer,
  • dealing with family addiction,
  • my battle with major depression,
  • my alcohol addiction, and other personal struggles;

As I have worked my way through a web of family history and learned so much about myself, he is still the person I fell in love with all those years ago.  I certainly understand him better, know him more intimately, comprehend a little better the complex person he is and is becoming.

This feeling of gratitude that I woke with comes out of a trip to Urgent Care with him.

None of us know how many days we have left.  So often we live as if we’ll never die and we face the days as if our loved ones will be with us forever.  By the way, Tom is fine.

This is just a reminder to hug the someone/s that you love.  Hug them and hold on tight.  Consider all that they bring into your life and what it might be like without them.  For all their possible aggravations (thinking of kids right now) they are the one for you —  be it a friend, a child, a lover, or a life long companion.

I know that I bring my many imperfections to this partnership.  And so does he.  That’s what is so amazing about it.

——————————————————————————————

“For death begins with life’s first breath. And life begins at touch of death” – John Oxenham

 

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.

It’s raining and I am reading Kierkegaard.

It’s raining and I am reading Kierkegaard.  That’s a good combination, the gloomy weather and honest thoughts.  As I sip my coffee and write, I do it amidst the bustle of children preparing for their day.  My coffee has grown cold, but let me tell you I am just warming up!

I have sat among others in conversation about Søren Kierkegaard and his thinking, but like many other areas in my life I have let others’ interpretations suffice and he had very little impact.

This is all so ironic, considering that he put into words an ache inside me that I haven’t known how to express. This understanding didn’t become as real until I read him for myself! Like so many areas of life, I am discovering that I am unique.  I have thoughts and ideas that are different, sometimes hugely different, from others.  But my self-discovery has been so long in coming that it is more than a little embarrassing.

In An Introduction to Kierkegaard, it says: “Kierkegaard aims to strip you, the reader, naked at two in the morning, to sit you in front of a mirror and force you to think about your life.”

Rest assured I am fully dressed, and it’s daytime, but my soul feels echoes of relief at being understood, even as I am reading the words of someone writing 100 years ago!  How I have anguished!  Certainly that is how this blog came about and anyone who takes the time to read my poetry knows it is true of my poetry.

Kierkegaard demands self-examination in a way that makes me jump up and howl “Yes!”  Not in self-absorption, or self-centeredness, but in a quest for maximum understanding, which makes so much sense to me! He confronts our innermost person, who is being lost in today’s (American) culture.  Hear me out.

“They use their abilities, amass wealth, carry out worldly enterprises, make prudent calculations, etc. and perhaps are mentioned in history, but they are not themselves.  In a spiritual sense they have no self, no self for whose sake they could venture everything.” (CUP 64-5)

This lack of being an individual leads to despair.  Many never acknowledge this.  Too often I do and feel like a total nutcase.  In the daily, humdrum of life “We convince ourselves that life is ‘happy’, that there is meaning and purpose to our lives, when often this is not the case.  We throw ourselves into activity of various kinds which is subconsciously designed to prevent us having to think deeply about ourselves at all.”  (Introduction to Kierkegaard.)

He doesn’t consider despair a negative.  Kierkegaard believed that the pain of despair can help us to seek something deeper, which comes before a person can take charge of their life, “beginning the long, painful, slow walk of becoming an individual.”

This, for me, is the most important point:

“In his ignorance of his own despair a person is furthest from being conscious of himself as spirit.  But precisely this — not being conscious of oneself as spirit — is despair, that is to say spiritlessness . . . the despairer is in the same situation as the consumptive; he feels best, considers himself to be healthiest, can appear to others to be in the pink of condition, just when the illness is at its most critical.” (CUP 75)

Kierkegaard is challenging those of us who have the outward appearance of happiness, to slow down, to be still, to look at ourselves differently.  Then perhaps we will see that it is a facade.  This doesn’t come easily and for me it took a complete change of career paths from a really driven, accomplished Mission leader … striving, proving, achieving… to housfrau and mommy.  Whoa did I have a crisis of purpose and fall flat on my face both physically and emotionally.  A crisis in my soul.  I was completely flattened by the fact that I had no understanding of my life’s greatest meaning. (And many Christians I know will now start flinching at this heretic thinking.  Read on.)

When I was working I wasn’t told you’re doing too much, I was simply given more to do.  The more I did, the more I was asked to do, until, when I left my job was split into three full-time jobs.  Why is this important, because I had become a machine.  When I was sad and confused about how to next spend my time and energies, I was given lists of activities and encouraged in to mommy-hood.  Really I just simply wanted some space, to think about these bigger issues of purpose, a sabbatical of sorts.  I now know that I would not have quit working if I could have sorted out these things, while procreating and all that entails.  (I wonder how many women go through this?)

When I did go home, suddenly I fell into the despair of questioning my purpose and discovering the masks I had constructed, feeling the despair of the seemingly commonplace, everyday life I was now living.  And so I began a long eight year path of becoming ruthlessly honest about what is true and false in my life.

Why do we seek the placid, safe and guarded sameness I have anguished?  I questioned and lamented my superficiality and missed the safety of the pursuit of work.  I was left with myself and I didn’t like it.  We work, we eat, we exercise, we shop, we acquire things and experiences, we pursue a hobby, become good at certain skills, we seek knowledge of various kinds, we become addicted to good and bad things, if we are very lucky we love, and we create beautiful things … and yet, still, we find ourselves awake at 2 in the morning.  The moment returns, or was it ever gone, and what then?

The greatest question is what does it mean to be human, not in some grand philosophical sense, but in how we choose to live and how to die.   The word ‘philosophy’ means ‘love of wisdom.’ And wisdom my father always said can only be gained through experience.  And I would add, thought.

For the first time in my life, with all pretense stripped away, I had an obligation to face my life and let wisdom begin to change the way lived.   Otherwise, life is just passing the time having moments of meaning. I should be able to figure out how to live out my life with justice and truth, with meaning.  My life can come  to mean something more than what I do and create.

For Kierkegaard said “I also know that in Greece a thinker was not a stunted existing person who produced works of art, but he himself was an existing work of art.” (CUP 303)

What does it mean to say you love? What does it mean to be a self? As I was reading him for the first time I started to get excited.  And if you are still with me after 1000+ words, I think you are excited as well!!!!!   Kierkegaard argues that most people are not selves at all.  Being an individual is difficult and it is something that few people attempt.  Instead, we put ourselves together in such a way that we are acceptable to others.  He calls it a copy.  We put on a mask.

I had certainly worn a mask for most of my life and with the ending of my work, or my purpose, I fell into a desolate place, a sinkhole which was ultimately deep depression.  It was like a loss of an arm it was so painful and it echoed on and on, I was lost .

And everyone continued to move through life as if it were nothing.   I should be able to do this change of career, or purpose and not fall apart.  So many other people do but for me it was my time of reckoning.  And I am grateful for it now that I am on the other side of the raging river.  I have crossed over and read with joy a description of what I went through.  Sure, I’m just at the beginning of reading this great thinker, philosopher and theologin.  But I’m psyched!