There's A Reason They Called Him The People's Pope

I was raised a cradle Catholic. That's the phrase I've always heard. The phrase that describes people who were raised in the church but, for the most part (for my part) never really understood that church or its teachings. I know I didn't. I knew when to stand up and when to sit down, when to kneel and when to say "and also with you." I went to church because the rule in our family was that if you didn't go to church, you didn't go to the beach (and I went to the beach every Sunday as a teen). I attended CCE because my parents would take my car away if I didn't. I argued with my CCE teachers, but always in a rebellious teenager kind of way. Not in a I truly understand and disagree with this dogma kind of way. And that was the extent of my commitment. It was not voluntary.

As a young adult, I grew away from the church. More from disinterest than disagreement. I didn't care to unpack the faith enough to agree or disagree really. In my twenties, I took my son to mass. And yes, I made him go to CCE as my parents had made me. I grew to understand that there were components of the religion that bothered me, but I also grew to love the mass. I mean I loved it. I still do if I'm honest. I think the symbolism speaks to my English teacher heart and the mantras and sense of ritual speak to witchy witchy soul. 

In my late 30's (or maybe early 40's) I took a class to actually learn Catholicism. It was intended for those converting to the religion. I learned a lot. I liked a lot. I stuck around a little longer.

But the world changed. The world around me became less tolerant, and I became less tolerant of intolerance. And through this time of inner change and turmoil I was reading the writings of Pope Francis. I was listening to him speak. I was falling more and more in love with him and less and less in love with his church. He was calling for churches and Christians to do better. To be better. And those all around me just weren't. 

And so I left. My love and respect for Pope Francis helped me leave the Catholic church and never look back. Man, that is a strange sentence to write. But it's true. 

He was such a powerful symbol of compassion and progress, reaching hearts around the world with his humility, empathy, and courageous push for inclusion. He opened doors for people who had long felt left out and unheard by any church. He taught that every church's true strength is in embracing every human soul, without question. Without judgement. And he lived his life accordingly. 

He is the reason I am a foster parent. 

He is the reason I care so deeply for immigrants. 

He is the reason I am the person I have become.

He will be missed by so many. Talk about a man who truly left the world better than he found it. Thank you, Jorge Mario Bergoglio. May your wings help you fly high enough to watch over us all. 

The Beauty of What Remains

I probably won’t remember to reread this when I find myself preparing to lose a loved one or having just lost one, but I hope when the time comes, I remember every word of this book. This may be the most beautiful book I have ever read. It has changed the way I think about death. Which in turn makes me think about life and the way I'm living it.

That is a lot of pressure to put on a book. I’m standing by it.

There’s nothing philosophical or even religious about it. It's not a deep devotional type of book. It’s just one rabbi’s stories sprinkled with his advice. And for whatever reason, it spoke to me.

The Beauty of What Remains

by Steve Leder

Kindness Matters

I volunteer for two different organizations writing letters to individuals being held in immigration detention centers, and today I received my first response letter. It began, "Thank you for your kind letter," and while he wrote about several things, the gist was just that.

Kindness matters.

I love letters. I love writing them, sending them, receiving them. And a hand-written letter? Oooohhh...chef's kiss. Sadly, I type most of mine. My handwriting is atrocious. I don't know how to hold my pen or pencil. It's embarrassing, really. I play with different grips. None feel natural, and none improve my handwriting. So typed it is. 

I received the letter as I am halfway through this book. It is a collection of letters written to the strangers these writers can't forget. The chance meetings (sometimes sightings from a distance) that have stuck with them for years (decades in some cases). It is such a beautiful premise.

I find myself reading some letters very quickly. Others...whoa. I have to think and reread and sit with the magnitude of their moment or the beauty of their writing. Or both. 

This book is feeding my soul this week. 

What makes you proud?

On day four we were asked to write about things we like about ourselves. I described myself as thoughtful and wrote about the joy I find in doing anonymous acts of kindness. I wrote about my desire for the world to be a better place for having had me in it. 

On day six we were asked to write about things that make us feel a sense of pride. I didn't write that day. Oops. I guess my unwavering work ethic would not make this list. But you know what would? My career. 

I am so proud of the work I do. The impact I have on students. And I do make an impact. I know I do. I've had people tell me, but I also feel it in my soul. I make a difference in my students' lives, and that makes me proud. 

You know what else? I am proud of my decision to become a foster parent and my work (is work really the correct word?) as a foster parent. I am proud of the fact that I show up for those kids even if I'm blundering my way through it.

I'm proud of the letters I write for VIDA and Cartas de Paz. I am proud that I am using words to show kindness and compassion to someone who many believe deserves neither. I think that matters. I think that work is worthy, and I am proud of myself for doing it. 

Today's writing prompt tells us to look back over the things we listed that make us proud and see what that says about us and what we value and how those values can lead us. 

I like what I see when I look back over my list. I value service to others, and I like that about myself. 

But the other observation I would like to note is what is glaringly absent from my list. I just assume that most moms would list their children when asked what makes them proud. There's a reason "my pride and joy" is a commonly used phrase when referring to one's children. And I am proud of my son. He is an amazing person. He is smart and kind and of course I am proud of him. The reason I don't list him on first is that I'm not proud of myself as a mother. I wasn't stellar. It wasn't my calling, and I'm not a natural. I'm supposed to say I did my best. I'm not sure I did. Either way, it's fine. I hate the phrase it is what it is. But...

Reality TV Memoirs

I love reading books detailing personal life experiments. It's a very specific genre of memoir that has a reality TV vibe. An author, a journalist, sometimes a blogger decides to try *insert crazy thing here* for *insert time frame here* and writes about it. I am here for it.

I guess the OG would be Nelly Bly's Ten Days in a Mad-House. 

John Howard Griffin's Black Like Me is probably one of the more famous books from this genre. I believe it is assigned reading (or was before the new age of book banning) in many schools. I have issues with that book though. It wouldn't include on my list of recommendations even though I think it is incredibly well written. 

Fairly recent favorites that come to mind:

Riding Buses With My Sister: A True Life Journey by Rachel Simon

Post Traumatic Church Syndrome: A Memoir of Humor and Healing by Reba Riley

Living With the Monks: What Turning Off My Phone Taught Me About Happiness, Gratitude, and Focus by Jesse Itzler

Living With a Seal: 31 Days Training with the Toughest Man on the Planet by Jesse Itzler

I'm tempted to include Raw Dog: The Naked Truth About Hot Dogs by Jamie Loftus on the list, but I think travel memoirs is a well established genre that could exist adjacent with a very blurry line between. 

Yesterday I finished Rachel Held Evans's The Year of Biblical Womanhood: How a Liberated Woman Found Herself Sitting on Her Roof, Covering Her Head, and Calling Her Husband Master. I was on the fence about this one through most of it. In the end, I lean toward like.

Rachel Held Evans set out to take the Bible and its instructions for women literally for one year. Her goal seems kind of twofold: show that Christian evangelicals pick and choose which parts of the Bible suit them (OK...I'm intrigued) and to show that the intent of the Bible is the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law.

The problem is that in order to prove that first goal, she has to know she's going to fail in her experiment. Which she does. Miserably. So instead of following the Bible literally, she creates thematic to-do lists each month that "relate" to an aspect of the book's take on womanhood. Each chapter focuses on scriptures related to one topic and the author gives herself a to-do list to complete by the end of the month. Topics include beauty, purity, obedience, justice.

Here are the things she does that won me over to her in the end:
1. She honors the voices of women who understand their faith differently from her. It reads as a very respectful conversation.
2. She defends things like singlehood and choosing to be childless by playing her own game of Bible pick and choose. Take that!
3. She's snarky, and some of the tasks on her to-do lists are pretty creative.

4. I'm a sucker for a great subtitle.

In searching for a name for this genre (and of course more books!), I stumbled upon this list, put together by the New York Public Library. And off I go on my own reading experiment. Does that count as my own experiment? My Year of Reading Books About Personal Experiments 

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2021/01/01/one-year-experiment-books

Thank You, P

I have learned so much about neurodivergent people since meeting P. She has made me more compassionate and patient(ish).

One thing we had to work through as a family is her need to play alone. We all had to learn that she's not being rude. P told me once that sometimes when someone asks her to play, her "body vibrates" and she knows playing with them is going to be hard right then. But pleasing people is very important to her, so it's a stressful scenario for her.

So she made a play schedule. Something so simple and yet so huge for her. Her body doesn't vibrate if she knows in advance what to expect. And it has really helped C as well. She doesn't get her feelings hurt anymore because she knows which days P is going to play with her. She doesn't ask on the other days. She plays with J instead. 

Then yesterday I listened ot a We Can Do Hard Things interview with Hannah Gadsby. The episode is titled "Hannah Gadsby: How to Communicate Better," and I highly recommend it. They have SO MUCH in common with P (so of course I also ordered their book Ten Steps to Nanette). During the episonde, they talked about how we often try to teach neurodivergent people to mimic or adapt to neurotypical behaviors, but we never ask neurotypical individuals to adapt or mimic the neurodivergent. Wow! What a statement. They even talked specifically about parallel play. 

Last night P and I talked about parallel play and what that might look like in our family, and she added a star to her play calendar. Saturday and Sunday are her play alone days, but from now on, on Sunday, P is going to teach us a lesson on playing alone and we're all going to practice parallel play. We will each play or read or do our own thing. Together. In one room. But remaining separate.

C: I already know how to play alone. It's just boring. 

P: Then maybe I can help you do it better so it's not boring. 

I am so proud of her and, truth be told, of me as well. What a fun learning journey we are on together. I am so glad she is being patient with me along the way. 

Just Keep Writing

The introduction to today's writing instruction made me laugh out loud:

"Is there anything that makes you feel paralyzed or blocked, like you can do nothing but procrastinate when you think about it? 

Uhhhhhhhh...

Yah...

Writing!

Ha. Here is another excerpt from the lesson. "I will take a moment to acknowledge them and then decide to go on anyway, with hope that things might just turn out better than I expect. Today, write about possible ways that you can get around them, get by them, go through them." 

Pick up your pen and write. That's how you get through it.

That's what I tell students. We even chant three rules:

1. Pick up your pen or pencil and write.
2. It can be crappy.
3. Just keep writing.

I've never been a lead by example kind of gal. 

Come on, Piper.

Just keep writing.