Chilling

 It's interesting that a word - chilling - can have such disparate meanings. Right now the wind chill is bone chilling, but my coffee is sitting on the counter chilling.  The kids had a snow day because the temperatures were chilling the snow and ice and creating hazardous driving conditions, so we sat around all day, just chilling, doing crafts, playing cards, watching old movies, reading new books. 

And what is happening in Minneapolis and other areas is blood chilling. 

I try not to be political here. My main motivation for writing is to remember - what we did, what I read, where we traveled.  So I will remember this about this month: the weather was brutally cold, and the news was dark.

I am glad to hear the neighbors say that the weather isn't usually this bad. Our first winter in South Bend apparently has brought more snow and colder temps for longer periods that it has in years. I'm trying to remember my own school days, and I do remember a couple huge snowstorms, the worst ironically in March, a blizzard that hit the east coast especially hard over Spring Break, shutting down the Pennsylvania Turnpike, preventing students from returning, causing accidents and outages. I also remember being prideful about running outside nearly every day, even though we did our workouts on a beautiful indoor track that is still one of the nicest in the region. I have barely walked outside this month, let alone run. (Of course, I barely run any more regardless of temperatures, but I got cortisone shots in my feet to help with arthritis (!Am I that old!) before Christmas just so I could run again, but at least I can get out of bed without feeling crippled anymore).  

I'm not sure of the total snowfall this season, but snow has piled up to the top of our little garden fence. It melts occasionally when the sun comes out, even the air temps haven't been over 30 in weeks.  Even when the meteorologists have not predicted snow, more snow falls. School has been cancelled twice and had multiple 2 hour delays. I feel sorry for the 1st and 2nd period teachers who keep having to push back their lesson plans. Each 2 hour delay causes another kink in the planning. My early morning college classes were actually cancelled yesterday because another 6 inches fell in the wee hours unexpectedly. Road crews were caught off-guard, and the frigid temps made salting ineffective.

Like the unpredictable weather, news of events around the country have continued to get worse. The violent acts of ICE officers have been horrifying.  Equally distressing is the lack of accountability.  The use of deadly force is unjustified in the killing of Renee Good and Alex Pretti in Minneapolis.  

I won't say more about what is happening in Minneapolis, other than to say that it has been difficult to focus on daily chores when national news is so chilling. What is curious to me is the kind of mental gymnastics that must occur to justify the support of president who continues to violate principles that uphold human dignity.  There are some who think that the show of force is necessary to control the disorder, but isn't the disorder a reaction to the use of force? When President Trump was elected a second time, although I thought it was pretty clear he was someone who would do and say anything to advance his own power and wealth, I could understand people voting for him because they disagreed with Democrats' policies and found their candidates objectionable and because Trump passed pro-life policies and appointed judges who supported pro-life policies in his first term. But as the year has gone on, the actions of the current administration have become more outrageous, and I find it harder to understand the continued support for a president who uses government power to punish political enemies, to manipulate markets, to alienate foreign allies, to hide his personal crimes, to destroy historic buildings, to sell public lands, to enable technology sector overreach, to profit from his position and seek to enrich himself and his collaborators by annexing other countries, and worst, to violate human dignity in all kinds of ways.

In the public sphere, every statement and every action is able to be argued, even video evidence. Nothing seems to be obvious or common sense. In teaching a public speaking class, I have become more and more attentive to the use of language to reveal and to deceive. The first book of Aristotle's Art of Rhetoric defines happiness and its constituent parts and lists things that bring about happiness - it seems to have nothing to do with the craft of public speaking. Aristotle also considers what is worthy of praise and lists actions considered noble and fine. He makes it clear that the good, happiness, is the goal of all rhetoric even though there may be different means of reaching that goal. I point this out to my students - we all want what is "good." We all want peace and security. We all want to live in a country where we can worship and speak freely. We all would prefer harmony to discord.  Often, political rhetoric has a negative connotation because it is used to label, if not to batter, political opponents. Rather than consider actions and ethics, people support a party and look the other way when their party does something that seems unprincipled. 

But does it not seem that core principles have been trampled? Actions that would have caused outrage if perpetrated by the opposing party seem to go overlooked now. When is the line crossed when the ends do not justify the means? 

I know that many supported the current administration because the policies and actions of the Biden administration violated some very important principles. But aren't there equally important principles being violated now? Is a third way possible? 

I don't know what the solution is - a third party isn't going to happen any time soon. But are there enough people frustrated by the battle to rise above the division in our political discourse and seek alternative paths?  The inflammatory rhetoric has led to inflamed actions.  And though tempers are hot, the news is chilling.  

November feasts

Happy feast of All Souls and a belated Feast of All Saints!  Our celebration was marked by eating lots of candy left over from Halloween, which conveniently fell on a Saturday before Fall Back time changes.  What could have been a great excuse to have a late night party was just a good excuse to watch scary movies past midnight. (Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Slayer, anyone? Sorry, Abe, I couldn't stay awake to see how your honesty might be tested, and I forgot to ask the kids how it ended. The kids also watched the original Ghostbusters, which is the inspiration for some cute little kid costumes for the DIY crowd, but I wonder how many of those littles will be begging to watch the film before they are old enough to overlook the innuendoes...) 

To mark the holy days, we pulled out some coloring pages and lit a candle with saint stickers on it. Usually I set up the photos of the great-grandparents and line up our selection of pewter saints on the table. Maybe tomorrow... Our pewter saint selection contains patrons of each of the kids' name saints and most of their confirmation saints, but St. Elizabeth of Hungary was sold out this year. I waited months before finally contacting the company and asking for a refund.  They offered to send one of those cheap plastic saint statues painted by machines that miss the exact placement of the eyes and lips, but I declined. 

We actually did have a festive brunch with homemade cinnamon rolls that didn't quite complete their second rise. Our oldest came home for the weekend - well, he stopped in at the house as a rest stop on the way to and from visiting his friend in Ventura whose first baby was baptised this weekend. Almost like a grandbaby! The baby was born a couple weeks ago, but I haven't sent a gift yet. I have about 5 different books in the cart, but can't decide which ones to send.  Do you like to send books as baby gifts? Do you have a favorite go-to baptism gift for a young Catholic family? I'm thinking A for Altar to read and appreciate now and The Clown of God to appreciate later, but I like some of the newer baby board books out right now. Such pretty designs! We often send Richard Scarry's Best Storybook Ever as a baby gift, so I might send that, too, along with a stuffed lion in honor of the baby's name. Richard Scarry never gets old. 

For dinner tonight we ate baked chicken tenders that looked like bone fingers - as close to pan de muerto as we got.  I forgot about making it, partly because I spent all day talking to students in Zoom conferences. While these conferences have been the highlight of the semester, they have drained my days and my energy.  I met with some students in person one day on campus, masked and sitting across a six-footish table.  It was truly a delight to see them in person and talk to them instead of looking at their distracted faces or avatars on Zoom.  And it was a thrill to be on campus. The school where I teach is located right on the coast, along a cliff that overlooks a favorite surfing spot. People come to this school for the view.  We could easily hold class outside almost every day of the year, but it would be a bit distracting on a warm day to watch the surfers crest the waves below. 

Although I found the conferences to be really fruitful and a great way to give the students a chance to talk freely, they took up four entire days. Now I am behind on everything, grading, laundry, planning, dishes, teaching the first grader, motivating the high schoolers, exercising, making special feast day treats -- you name it.  Oh well. The end of the semester is three weeks away, plus an additional week for finals, which I hardly count. I'll be ready for a pause.  I've a big stack of books to read, after all the holiday prep is done... or the Covid Christmas version of holiday prep. The Christmas card letter will be short this year.

This week is full of big events, right? Tomorrow we can stop being confronted with election ads, even if the election decision continues to be postponed to count straggler mail in ballots.  Our church is holding a day of adoration and prayer for peace. I've signed up for an hour to pray for peace, for an end to the pandemic, and for all the people and things on my prayer list, even though I won't be praying for either candidate to win, and will instead be praying for peace in our hearts and peace in the whole world. 

I know my position as a conscientious objector to this election is not popular - I have been told by people on both sides that my refusal to vote is actually a vote for their opponent - so they each get a vote! Or ... neither does -  neither will be able to claim my vote in their tallies of the popular vote.  I did send in a ballot and voted for other offices and referendums after doing a little research. I am grateful we are still registered in Illinois as that ballot had about 8-10 bubbles to fill in, while the California ballot had dozens.  Our four young adults over the age of 18 each received a ballot at our home address, even though only one lives here, and one is not registered in California anymore.  It has the most complicated propositions in the nation, I would hazard to guess. 

I am not going to explain why I feel like I can't in good conscience vote for either candidate here, - but I am expressing my surprise at the number of people who responded negatively to Peggy Noonan's article in which she expresses her reasons for refusing to choose between Biden and Trump, and instead writing in a candidate. I looked it up online after reading it in the print edition of the Wall Street Journal because I was thinking about sharing it with a friend with whom I had been discussing this idea since we both had similar perspectives.  However, when I read it online, I was surprised to see that 901 people had taken time out of their day to write comments on this article.  How many of these 901 would take the time to compose a handwritten letter to the editor that might be printed in the hard copy of the paper?  I hazard to guess only a small portion - although I could be mistaken.  I was surprised to see how many angry commenters there were - which led me to keep reading, wasting my own time.  These angry commenters appeared to take both positions: How dare you not vote against Trump and for Biden? How dare you not vote against Biden and for Trump? (there seems to a be a number of people who see voting as a way to vote AGAINST someone instead of FOR someone else.) 

Here is a long portion of what Noonan wrote.  I can see why some people might be angered by her position.

Poetry and politics

I've been meaning to incorporate more poetry into our days during the month of April, but that hasn't really happened.  Now that the month is drawing to a close, here are a few nods to the art.

A new poet to me is Kayo Chingonyi, whose work I just was introduced to by a fellow teacher. Here is one of his pieces. The title comes from a Zambian word for initiation.

Kumukandaby Kayo Chingonyi

Since I haven't danced among my fellow initiates,
following a looped procession from woods at the edge
of a village, Tata’s people would think me unfinished 
– a child who never sloughed off the childish estate
to cross the river boys of our tribe must cross
in order to die and come back grown.

I was raised in a strange land, by small increments:
When I bathed my mother the days she was too weak,
when auntie broke the news and I chose a yellow suit
and white shoes to dress my mother’s body,
at the grave-side when the man I almost grew to call
dad, though we both needed a hug, shook my hand.
what would he make of these literary pretensions,
this need to speak with a tongue that isn’t mine?

If my alternate self, who never left, could see me
what would he make of these literary pretensions,
this need to speak with a tongue that isn’t mine?
Would he be strange to me as I to him, frowning 
as he greets me in the language of my father
and my father’s father and my father’s father’s father?

I mentioned the Beth Ann Fennelly article about the role of literature in increasing empathy.  Chingonyi's poetry is a good example of how poetry also shares in that ability to shift perspectives and provide insight into another's life. The teacher who shared the info about Chingonyi interviewed him as part of a series of interviews with Dylan Thomas Prize winners. Here is a 10 minute clip of Kayo Chingonyi talking about his writing life. https://soundcloud.com/user-588915112/kayo-chingonyi-2018-winner.  More about his work: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/may/28/kayo-chingonyi-poet-dylan-thomas-prize

Another good clip I have been meaning to share isn't about poetry per se - and maybe I shared this before? - but this video called "Nihonga: Slow Art" touches on the way faith forms art.  This video features the work of abstract artist Makoto Fujimura who was scheduled to speak at University of Dallas for their McDermott Lecture series, but the lecture was cancelled.
  https://www.makotofujimura.com/

Meanwhile art-making happens around here in small ways - pictures for elderly neighbors. Potholders. Painting old wooden ornaments. Painting rocks. Sidewalk chalk designs. Baking. Lots of hair braiding and nail art. I have a large stash of craft supplies leftover from co-op and VBS and CRE.  Might as well use them up.  My intentions to incorporate more art and music into our days are largely still intentions and not actions, a small failure to move from concept to product, but I need to remind myself to focus more on the small successes.

There were a number of small successes and failures yesterday.  A failure was spending too much time responding in my head to a Facebook post that touched a nerve. A success was restraining myself from actually responding. A success was spending a pleasant hour in the afternoon sunshine on opposite sides of the sidewalk from a friend as we let our little girls play charades - a good non-touching game. A failure was letting slip that we had made a little field trip back in late March to the mountains and another trip to the military beach about an hour north last weekend.  I'm afraid she was a little shocked. I have tried not to talk very much about our little illicit excursions because, even though our interactions with others were very limited - and masked and gloved - they really aren't in the spirit of "Stay home" orders.

I'm afraid I'm not a great team player.  It doesn't help that I don't firsthand know anyone who actually has the virus, although a neighbor thinks she had it. A friend of a friend's sister had a bad case and was really sick and in the hospital a few days.  Our acquaintances on the Theodore Roosevelt were among the 4/5ths of sailors who tested negative.  I am not sorry to have the kids doing school at home, and I don't mind the restrictions on shopping and dining out, but I am inordinately gladdened by the report that the beaches and some parks have opened for exercise.  On the other hand, I am sorry to hear about thousands of gallons of milk being poured into the ground, chickens and pigs being slaughtered, and fields of vegetables being plowed under because farmers don't have a market for their food with all the restaurants closed, and they can't afford to nurture, harvest, or process, package, and transport it to the groceries. Meanwhile people are going hungry because they are out of a job and the stores are out of food.  How many kids aren't getting their online schoolwork done because they don't have motivation, they don't have access, or they don't have someone to explain concepts clearly? I tend to sympathize with the governors who think there must be a safe way to start reopening the economy now that more masks are available, and people are accustomed to wearing them, and the six feet rule is mostly followed.  We shall see.

Enough of my partially formed political thoughts for now.  I have been meaning to turn more to reading and research.  A success yesterday was I did look up some conferences and literary societies and graduate programs that focus on environmental humanities.  A failure is that I have not drummed up enough motivation or time to write up ideas for abstracts. On the other hand, I am loving Saints and Villains,  the novel about Dietrich Bonhoeffer I'm reading for my book club.  And success: I finally finished Pico Iyer's The Lady and the Monk about his year in Kyoto and his developing relationship with the young Japanese woman who eventually becomes his wife. I checked it out from the library a week or so before everything shut down. The book is a travel narrative. It rambles slowly through the streets and through different encounters. Sachiko, the young lady, is unhappily married and unhappily restrained by the expectations demanded of her by the culture.  She gradually spends more and more time with Pico, ostensibly to practice English and to show him Kyoto and the surrounding areas, but also because he represents the freedom she desires.  I really like Iyer's writing, but it does not move quickly. It is perhaps akin to the "slow art" that Fujimura describes.

Back to poetry. I learned via social media that Irish poet Eavan Boland died.  The poem of hers most familiar to me is "Becoming Anne Bradstreet," but her passing led me down the rabbit trail of reading more of her poems.  Here is "Becoming Anne Bradstreet," a fitting poem for Poetry Month about the influence of poets and their words and the power of imagination.

Becoming Anne Bradstreet    EAVAN BOLAND

It happens again
As soon as I take down her book and open it.

I turn the page.
My skies rise higher and hang younger stars.

The ship's rail freezes.
Mare Hibernicum leads to Anne Bradstreet's coast.
 A blackbird leaves her pine trees
And lands in my spruce trees.
 I open my door on a Dublin street.
Her child/her words are staring up at me:
 In better dress to trim thee was my mind,But nought save home-spun cloth, i' th' house I find. We say home truthsBecause her words can be at home anywhere—

At the source, at the end and whenever
The book lies open and I am again

An Irish poet watching an English woman
Become an American poet.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55336/becoming-anne-bradstreet

Summer Reading and Unrest

It seems every year, my reading list gets shorter. I thought I might catch up on some reading this summer, but it just hasn't happened.  We've had a busy summer, and with everyone home and a series of houseguests, I haven't had a lot of quiet time. I've also been planning a pre-school co-op for next fall, tutoring a couple ESL students, and revising my class for the fall term, which will meet once a week instead of just three times a term. 

But I also admit I don't read as much because of the iphone.  Many hours that I used to spend reading are now spent checking in. (Did you see the article: "Have Smartphones Destroyed a Generation" at The Atlantic someone linked to on Facebook? The irony of reading this on an idevice when it was linked to on social media isn't lost. Another article that falls short of its title that I spent time reading and plotting a response in my head was this one: "How American Politics Went Insane". The author, Kurt Anderson, describes a lot of fringe groups, but I don't think he fully answers the question in the title.  He makes some suggestions, but I was left unclear about why the pendulum of left/right extreme fringe groups swings when it does. The article does not seem without bias, and when I finished skimming it, I wasn't sure what sane politics looks like, if it even has ever existed (Anderson does seem to think the Reagan years were a period of relative civility.) I also think he could give more responsibility to the internet for the spread of vitriol, rigidity, and incivility, along with eccentric ideas like conspiracy theories.) I did cut down on social media this summer in between travel and company, but I still would like to limit more of that time. Especially after reading that article about the role of the internet in youth development, I want to set a better example for our kids.

While I pat myself on the back for not letting my kids have smart phones until they are 18, they have plenty of access to media.  We have a communal iphone and an ipad, and computers. The 17 year old has an old iphone that doesn't have cell service which he uses for messaging, music, and Instagram. All of the teenagers have Instagram and Facebook accounts and get text messages from friends.  They aren't out of the loop.

In addition to reading the Atlantic article, I did read a couple of other books that have increased my desire to opt out of the fastpaced digital world, even though I am only marginally a part of it.  One was Rod Dreher's The Benedict Option.  I was excited to see this book at my mom and dad's while I was visiting, because I've been wanting to read it, but didn't want to buy a new book that I didn't have time for.  I really only skimmed it - but I don't need to be convinced that Christians are becoming increasingly marginalized and that we need to support each other in living in the world while not becoming a part of it.  The book blends an historical review of Christian thought, an analysis of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism and the "After Virtue" world Alisdair MacIntyre prophesied and then provides strategies for Christians in a post Christian world, as the subtitle suggests. Some profiles of people who are managing to find community and support for living a life based on Christian virtues are also included. Some of the suggestions include not giving your children phones and free access to the internet, home schooling, forming friendships or joining ecclesial movements or other groups that provide fellowship and mutual support in the Christian life, and taking part in the sacramental life of the Church.

As commentators have pointed out, this conversation has been going on for years - millennia - but each generation must find a way to continue the conversation. The struggle between straddling and sacred and secular worlds has been ongoing in my own life.  Waves of momentum in my faith life have been followed by times of fallowness. Dreher's suggestions all seem good - but some of the critiques also seem justified, namely that in his profiles, he fails to examine the lives of minorities who have traditionally formed strong bonds through Christian communities while being oppressed and persecuted, and that Christians should be more or less politically active or more or less involved in the life of the world.  Especially in light of the recent political upheaval sweeping the country, it seems both necessary to form and nourish strong communities, but also to take action in the wider community. How do we balance service and preservation?

This quandary and others are at the heart of Bishop Barron's Vibrant Paradoxes: The Both/And of Catholicism and in C. S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters. Both address the fine lines between virtue and vice, between the will and emotion, between action and contemplation, etc.  (The Screwtape Letters has much that is timely - for instance the devil encourages bias, excess emotion, uncertainty, and false humility - a great line about how democracy can be used by the devils to increase a sense of superiority in order for people to distinguish themselves - while God loves the opposing virtues of freedom from bias, acts of free will, rhythm and harmony, and appreciation/gratitude.) For that matter, the fourth big book I read this summer was Anne Fadiman's The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. This book, too, examines intersections (isn't "sectionality" a buzzword in literary studies these days?) and the challenges of attempting acculturation and assimilation while preserving and respecting the practices of traditional communities and cultures.

Really there are no easy answers to the question of how then shall we live.  My husband, son, and I had a good conversation the other night about current events, in between the rise of white supremacists and extreme nationalism in our own country and the terror attacks across Europe.  The role of media in feeding extremist or fringe groups can't be underrated: social media increases a sense of isolation, victimization, and tribalism - the attitudes that increase the likelihood that a young person will identify with a cult or reactionary organization. I also feel that poverty of literacy education has a large role in the inability of  young people to empathize (I acknowledge my bias towards the importance of literacy.)

Our son will be in Barcelona in a few days, right where the most recent attack occurred.  While it is true that cycles of rising abuse of power and oppression, followed by the response of violent and/or peaceful revolutions can be identified throughout all of history, it nevertheless is no less upsetting to live during the upheaval. How do we respond?  How do we encourage justice and the preservation of peace, in the world and in our hearts?

My instinct is to retreat, to pull the curtains on the outside world, and to focus on addressing the fires and flares in our own household and local community.  This is another reason to turn off media feeds. But I also believe that we have a responsibility to our brothers and sisters in the wider community.  We continue to try to do our little bit in between making donations, signing up to serve dinners at the homeless shelter, tutoring, etc.  Stepping away from social media may be described as refusing to stand up against bullies, but in order to have the time to serve others, we need to turn off the devices.

Hmmm, I am out of time, and I think this post may be too disjointed and too undeveloped to be worth posting, but I'm going to throw it out into the evil web anyway.  (Another interesting conversation with our 20 year old was about the deep web, the dark web, and bitcoin.  All of these topics are fascinating in an unsettling way and need further thought and research ... ) 

Rambling about this and that, including politics, unfortunately.

Late January seems the appropriate time to spend a few days mooning around about the state of the world and everyone in it.

Southern California has been having "winter storms."  This means rain, a little wind, some flash flooding in areas. And it's "cold:" below 60.  When the weather reporters use this kind of language, I want to stay home, huddled under blankets with a cup of tea and read, even though our friends in cooler climates wouldn't call this bad weather.  The human body wants to hibernate this time of year, I think.

In my head I know that a good part of wanting to curl up and retreat is PPD - post party depression. Christmas vacation is over, the big kids are back at school, my class has started again.  We had a lot of company and events over the last month, and now I have to get back to the routine, but instead I'm happy to let the dishes and laundry pile up, leave the broom in a corner, and eat and read sugary things.

And then get depressed by politics.

On the bright side, I spent most of Tuesday with the toddler, first at a playgroup, then at library story time, and then at the park - this was before it started raining. I sat on a bench and was able to get absorbed into Angry Housewives Eating Bonbons while she played with a few toddlers.  Tuesday is the day that the classical home school co-op has lunch and plays at the park after their meeting. I know this because I went to their information meeting last spring.  So, I admit, I was also surreptitiously spying wistfully on them as the moms ate their lunches amid animated conversations, and the kids burnt off their energy on the playground.  Should I go back to home schooling the fifth grader, who does not like her parochial school? I know I've fretted about this before in this space, but forgive the repetitiveness of my worries. Will she be ok at the public middle school next year with her brother when she still plays with baby dolls and makes RVs out of cardboard boxes? Her best friend who goes to the public school does, too, so I know I am wrong in attributing more maturity to the middle schoolers than they actually have - certainly my own son last year had a great year, but middle school boys are still pretty immature for the most part.

Honestly, the reason I am thinking about home schooling again is because I miss the lifestyle of sitting at the park and lunching with other moms.  I miss the days spent reading stories on the couch. What I don't miss is the daily nag to do math.  My college kids are urging me to home school the baby, so she'll always like reading, but they don't realize that home schooling does not necessarily make someone into a voracious reader.

At any rate, the novel I indulged in I have actually read before - how could I forget? It is a familiar plot: a group of housewives on the same cul-de-sac all realize they are lonely, so they form a book club and become best friends. Each of them is a stereotype: the athletic activist, the sexy believer, the mousy one whose husband is abusive, the homey, motherly widow, the seemingly perfect housewife with a dark secret in her past.  It's sentimental and sappy, but just the sort of mind candy I am in the mood to sink into. I read it at the park, on the exercise bike in the family room at the gym, since it has been raining, and late into the night in the bathroom.  Even though I've read it before, and normally would be halfway embarrassed to say I liked this sort of book, I gobbled it up, and it was soothing.  I want to be in that darn book club, too.  They read some pretty good books. Why haven't I read any William Styron lately? And one of them names her daughter Flannery.

In between hanging out at all the toddler hot spots and hiding so I can read, I have indulged in reading about politics and watching the news. I don't usually watch the news, but Friday morning I had an hour between taking the kids to school and an all school Mass. I hadn't thought about the inauguration, to be honest, but since I was driving them to school because of the rain, I heard about it on the radio and so turned on the TV when I got home.

If there is any reason to watch TV, watching an historical pageant is a good one. The procession of dignitaries at the beginning and the early speeches reminded me of what was good about America.  I admire the Obamas, even if I don't agree with some of their political positions.  Michelle Obama has been an advocate for military spouse support - making it easier for military spouses to keep their jobs or find new jobs in DOD careers and by encouraging job preparation and home business training programs for spouses and honoring a "Military Spouse of the Year."  I admire their dedication to keeping their kids in the same school and protecting them from media attention. I liked President Obama's farewell speech.  They seem like good role models for a "first family." As I told the kids several times yesterday, you can admire a person - even love that person - even if you disagree about politics.  Some people have admirable personal qualities even when they make different assumptions about what is best for human society. And some people you might agree with politically, but don't want to be associated with them personally.

It has been difficult to feel charitable during this political season. I would like to say I agree with Trump's political positions, but I don't agree with half of what he says (we don't need a wall, despite Robert Frost's poetry!), and the other half - for example, his claim to be pro-life - I don't believe he means. His speech was such a disappointment after the high-minded comments about the peaceful transfer of power, and the strength of devotion to our political project exemplified in the letter from the Union soldier, Sullivan Ballou, read by Senator Charles Schumer. Even the song about being the stranger, "Now We Belong" - a statement. surely - sung by the Missouri State Chorale was beautiful and stirring.  The witness presented by the past presidents, Carter, Clinton, and Bush, talking with smiles on their faces, even if they didn't feel like smiling, was encouraging. So was the warm greeting to those past presidents from the Obamas.  It was all so patriotic.

Then Trump's speech ruined it.  It sounded like another campaign stump speech. He's already won! Move on!  Using words like "carnage," suggesting that kids in public schools have no knowledge, coloring the past in dark terms, evoking an American exceptionalism in the future, all of this did nothing to create unity or heal wounds or extend a hand of mercy and compromise - needed in order for any of his political ideas to gain acceptance.  All it did was inflame enemies who have already begun campaigning for his replacement.

Listening to this speech makes it evident why so many people were excited about the Women's March. It's a great way to stand up against the many ugly things Trump has said.  If any other woman besides Hillary Clinton had run against Trump, she probably would have won.  But why, if people are protesting against ugly, hurtful language and exclusive politics, are they engaging in the exact same tactics?  To fight fire with fire?  I can't stand seeing so many F words flung about on social media,- or the labeling and hatefulness towards people with different political views - despite the example of past presidents, even the words that Obama said about his daughters and resiliency at his last press conference. The exclusion of pro-life groups - even if what those groups are trying to do is not change legislation, but to create more options for women and to support them and the babies they might want to have but can't afford - defies the claim to promote "unity."  And the hats - I know they are supposed to "reclaim" pride and dignity, but isn't there a better way than by fighting vulgarity with vulgarity?

It's just all so ugly.  Both sides. More than the rain, it makes me want to curl up under blankets and read novels about people who get along, or can at least be civil to others.

But to be honest, I had to fight the urge to retort with something catty about catty posts on facebook - is cattiness a double entendre for the hats? Even this little whining post just adds to the discord.  I have been trying to prevent myself from logging into social media just so I don't get drawn in, but each day I find myself taking a little peek -  I just want to see photos of my friend's sweet newborn baby! Or send a birthday message to my niece! Ahh, but then I find myself struggling with the desire to break my own rule of "positive neutrality" on the net.

So here I am purging my desire to write something provocative or polemical online; at least here, it won't been seen by many.

A women's march took place in our city yesterday. So did a pro-life march, which had been scheduled on this weekend for years and years.  It was not a protest march, and it was located on the opposite side of the highway from the women's march. I had said something to the kids about going a couple weeks ago, but I lost courage when I learned about the women's march. I didn't want to see profane signs or angry faces.  I didn't want them to see it.  I thought the rain would be a good excuse to back out of going.

But then yesterday morning, the kids brought up the pro-life march.  It wasn't raining. The sun was out again. I struggled internally a little bit, but then decided to drive into town and check it out. "If we can't find parking, we won't stay," I said. We found parking. We walked around the block with other pro-lifers, young and old, different races, men and women.  It was a pretty subdued bunch, praying the rosary or singing or just talking. We only saw one couple we knew from church, but they were thrilled to see the kids out. It was a congenial crowd.

And on the way home, we saw people walking the other direction with signs of womens' faces, pink hats, walking in pairs or small groups. I didn't see any signs with the F word, only one with a pig. These walkers seemed happy to be out in the sunshine, too. The kids and I had a good conversation about how many different ideas people can have about politics and economics, about how to run a country, but what is nonnegotiable is treating others with charity.

Being neutral may be unnatural for human beings - we naturally want to band together, to share ideas and to feel supported and to oppose what is unjust.  And it is unnatural to be civil, and harder to be charitable, toward enemies. That is a supernatural attitude.  And so we beg again for grace and forgiveness.

Thoughts on politics

I usually try to follow a policy of "positive neutrality" on social media - no political statements, rarely something religious. I try to stick to posting photos of the kids. I've told my kids to follow this policy, also; it's my version of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."  I also remind them not to post something that might intentionally make someone else feel left out or hurt.

But not everyone agrees with this kind of approach towards social media use. I'm perhaps in the minority, although I have never felt like I have had to unfriend any of my friends or family because what they said seemed hurtful, and I don't think this is because they all agree on everything, but rather because they may talk about their own views but don't cross the line to condemn people who have different perspectives.. I have "helped" my kids unfollow some people from their Instragram accounts, however, for inappropriate comments or photos.

After this election, I deleted a few of their friends - this time they showed me the posts filled with four letter words and lots of name calling.

I can understand having a strong reaction to this surprising election and the whole unbelievable campaign process. For a week after the election, I obsessively read news reports, essays, editorials, and yes, Facebook posts after a brief self-imposed hiatus.  Like everyone else in the world, I was surprised and dismayed Trump won, but I was also surprised and dismayed at the vehement response to his win.  For days, I have had a hard time focusing on other responsibilities while trying to make sense of both the angry protesters and the angry winners, in addition to my own thoughts and theories about the election. I started more than once trying to write some sort of meaningful statement, but after a week, stating my own position, which I can't quite nail down, doesn't feel urgent or necessary anymore.  The more I read the more I think to myself, why waste more ink or internet space? Besides the dishes and laundry still need to be done.

But I can't stop thinking about it.  So as a kind of exorcism of ideas, not as an apology or an attack, here is my contribution to all the blather about the election.

On Tuesday morning, my husband left for work with a comment about having the first female commander in chief on the morrow, not because he voted for Hillary (or Trump), but because, like most people, he thought her victory was inevitable.  I questioned his certainty, not because I was any less certain, but just to be contrarian and because everything about Trump had been unpredictable. That night when I came home from track practice with my daughter, my husband was glued to the TV, despite our bad antenna reception. We couldn't pull ourselves away. The 12 year old, still doing homework, started calculating how the election might fall out based on the number of electoral college votes left. I started to tell him to finish his homework, but then realized he was doing math and civics all at once.  We finally went to bed with a mix of surprise and dread of impending results.  All we knew for sure was that our write-in candidate didn't win!

My stomach was sinking and my head was spinning (partly because I was fighting off some kind of minimal flu) as I went to bed with the realization that such an unpredictable person could be elected.  I had no love for either candidate.  Neither represented my views or preferences.  I mostly felt disenfranchised, unrepresented, and disgusted by the entire debacle.

Background story: People I love and trust have had good reasons for holding very different political views. One set of my grandparents were Democrats from the era when Democrats supported labor unions and the working class. To them, the Republicans were the party of the rich who wanted to avoid paying taxes. They believed in social supports for the poor because of their Christian belief that they were their brother's keeper.

My other grandparents were Republicans.  My grandfather was a conservative of the Russell Kirk variety. He opposed hand-outs in preference to economic stimulus in a free market economy.  Communism was still a real threat to him. He believed in local control of education, freedom of religion, and the right to bear arms. He couldn't stand the Clintons the first time around.

Since I have very little memory of Jimmy Carter's presidency, my formative experience of the Republican party was Ronald Reagan and of the Democratic party was Bill Clinton.  Reagan was a gentleman; Clinton was not, as the whole Lewinsky scandal revealed, although he could pretend to be one. Solidifying my political leanings to the right as a young adult were the issues of abortion (I wonder how much of the recent political rancor can be traced to when tax payer dollars started going to fund abortions?) and bioethical issues like euthanasia, cloning, and stem cell research. Readings on subsidiarity and market economies also led me to support the party that favored decentralized political power.  I worked a couple of summers during college for the public relations department of the Indianapolis mayor's office and got some insight into how unglamorous politics could be, but also how local government could have a direct effect on people's lives. (I helped do research and interviews for this book.)

Flash forward: In between the development of reactionary politics, divisive rhetoric, and Tea Party economics, I felt less and less attached to the Republican party. A few of the candidates for the primaries seemed interesting, but I admit that I did not participate in the primary elections. I initially thought Trump was encouraged to run by an alliance with Hillary formed to weaken and defeat the Republican party.  When he actually won the Republican nomination, I kept hoping the convention would do something miraculous and choose another candidate, or that he would somehow disqualify himself - maybe by getting in trouble with the law with this Trump University business or something.  I believed the polls that showed him trailing.  His hateful rhetoric, his lack of credibility, and his rejection of his own party led me to believe he wouldn't follow the party policies, and I assumed most people shared my assumption.

The press did a great job of making it seem that Trump supporters were all small town uneducated people or poor urban white people who lacked an education with articles like this one and this one. But surprisingly perhaps, a number of people voted for Trump who don't fit this stereotyped demographic.  People of all education levels, ethnicities, genders, religious beliefs, and sexuality (limited numbers perhaps, but still) voted for him. But the polls didn't reflect this because apparently a significant number of people were afraid to admit they supported Trump - or, as was the case for many people, didn't approve of Trump's negative characteristics and hateful words, but supported the Republican party or supported anyone who was against Clinton. (Is she the woman to hold up to our daughters as an exemplary first woman president?)   Perhaps they were afraid of being associated with the underbelly of Trump supporters.  Perhaps they hoped he might improve the economy or held onto hope that he will be pro-life, however slim that hope might be. Certainly not everyone and probably not even the majority of the people who voted for Trump did so because they are homophobic, xenophobic, mysogonistic racists, but they were afraid of being slandered because of their vote.  And the reaction of the masses out protesting, spray painting hateful graffiti, smashing cars, damaging property and beating people up confirms that their fear is justified, just as much as the fears of those who have been harrassed for their race, religion, sexuality, or gender.

As I tried to imagine why someone might have voted for Trump, I also thought of many military members in this community who associate Clinton as part of the state department with responsibility for the death of their friends. A few weeks ago, the town lined the street for the funeral procession of an EOD member who was killed by a roadside bomb on a mission in Mosul. And this was just a few months after the funeral of another community member, Charles Keating, a SEAL who was killed while working with Iraqi forces to combat ISIS, a mission that was not typical of SEAL duties and to which this team was sent without proper reinforcements or protective gear.  In fact, Keating and his fiancee were quietly married before their planned wedding because he had an intimation that something might go wrong.  The rise and expansion of ISIS has gone unchecked by the Obama administration - which surely lost Clinton some votes.

The people from those above mentioned articles and others in their position, however uneducated they may be, also have a legitimate concern about their livelihoods. They are suffering, too, and their concerns often go unnoticed or belittled by  people who live on the coasts.

It may be hard to measure, but it seems to me that the hate on either side is about equal.

Anger on both sides of this campaign has been inevitable because both candidates are reprehensible, but I have also been dismayed by the fearmongering and name calling in the name of "love." Unfortunately, much of the hate is directed not just toward the candidates as it has been in the past, but to anyone who, perhaps reluctantly, voted for either of them.  I liked what Amy Welborn wrote about how people don't start protests or call each other names over their preferences in the city commissioner races, even though politics on the local level are more immediate. (Athough I will say, the mayoral and school board races here were hotly contested...)

As Welborn points out, people have made an idol out of politics. The strong reaction against the election of the George W. Bush was a indication of how personally people identify with their political party and their candidate, and how they despise those who disagree, but now that reaction has become even more violent. Was it because no one expected this outcome?  Or because a rejection of Clinton seems to be for many people a rejection of their identity?  Do people really believe that Trump is going to snap his fingers and deport everyone from a foreign country, take away everyone's insurance, and end common core?  I'm skeptical about everything he says. And I, perhaps unwisely, trust in the system of checks and balances.

If Trump doesn't get impeached in the next four years, it's likely that the Democratic party will come on strong in the next election. In fact, this election might be the best thing that has happened to the Democratic party.  Next time around, they can leave the Clintons out and raise up a new candidate who better represents their ideals.

On the other hand, the hypocrisy of those who claim to be about love while hating anyone who disagrees with the way to best administer a democratic society and of those who want to silence others and use protests to cause damage with no real goal in mind may just cause the coalescence of a new party, hopefully a more centrist party.

What bothers me as much as anything is the misuse of the word love. Protest, post on social media, boycott, etc., but if you do violence in the name of love, violence is done to love.  And it seems hypocritical to have criticized a candidate for running a campaign based on fear, but then to turn around promote fear of everyone else

Perhaps the violence was done a long time ago.  Love requires self sacrifice, some willingness to travel through darkness together, some self denial for the good of the other.  A willingness to stay put, to be loyal, to be interested in the other despite differences. It requires faith in the goodness of humanity and hope in the future.  It requires being able to talk to your neighbor face to face despite differences in race, religion, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, or political party. It requires a willingness to allow other people their freedom to be different. Neither party has the monopoly on that virtue.

It's a good thing Thanksgiving is right around the corner to test everyone's ability to sit down and dine with people who disagree with each other's ideas but can still love each other as persons, as individuals in need of communion.

On speaking your mind

I wrote the following a few months ago, and hesitated to post it because of my limited understanding of local politics and a concern about misrepresenting what the admiral said.

Since then, though, local elections have heated up, and these issues are even more in the news.  Guam does not participate in the presidential election, although military members and dependents like myself send in absentee ballots. (I've learned that the local ballots include the presidential candidates' names.  Guam has correctly chosen the winner of the presidential election in every race except when Ronald Reagan defeated Jimmy Carter.)  But elections are big news here, and candidates for mayor and local government representatives from each village are chosen, along with a nonvoting representative elected to US Congress.

The issues mentioned below, decolonization and the marine build-up, are still being debated.  I sometimes get the feeling that the US is sometimes seen as a military imperialist power.  It's uncomfortable to be in that position as an American who is supposed to promote freedom. I wonder if giving Guam a voice in the presidential elections would be a step toward its full participation in American citizenship. I still appreciate the Admiral's confidence in speaking out on the issues, but also wonder what compromises could be made. It seems to me that America needs Guam as much as Guam needs America.

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From August: One of the pleasures of military life is the opportunity to attend the frequent ceremonial events: hail and farewells, retirements, balls, changes of command, etc. This summer has been a busy one for turnover, there have been a number of change of command ceremonies.  They follow a similar format: the band plays as guests are seated, the important officers are officially piped in, an MC makes introductions, and important person makes a keynote speech. Then the outgoing commander gives a speech thanking everyone, the incoming commander gives a speech about how excited he is to be here, and the chaplain intones a final prayer. Finally, the commanders are piped out, and guests adjourn for snacks. The officers wear dress white uniforms, ladies get dressed up, and the civilian men here wear their best Hawaiian shirts or the Filippino barong.

As much fun as pomp and circumstance are, the refreshments are often the most memorable part of the event.  What is said by the speakers is usually forgettable.  But last month’s turnover between admirals was a little more exciting. The outgoing admiral's speech was critical of recent political discussions in Guam. We were squirming in our seats because the key players - lieutenant governor, senator, local representatives, mayors – were all present.

He actually touched on two controversies: The military build-up that has stalled and recent calls for Guam independence or self-determination.  The build-up has had a mixed reception here. Some locals support it, some do not. Some people perhaps acted like they opposed it in order to get concessions from the federal government, and now that no money at all might show up, they are supporting it.

The politicians are indirect in stating their opinions. They keep calling for more studies. There is some land in dispute for a shooting range that is near a popular hiking route. And there are concerns about the infrastructure and impact on the island from the potential increase in personnel.

Meanwhile, the calls by some Guamanians for self-determination and an end to colonization seem to be more of a younger person thing. I’m not in touch enough with the local political scene to be familiar with the dialogue about it, but I can see both sides. The US is far away, and perhaps some people feel like the government is using the island just for its strategic location for the military.

On the other hand, Guam gets a lot of money from the federal government.  The military also provides a lot of jobs.  And it sends a lot of people from the mainland who spend money. People from Guam with money for a plane ticket can come to the mainland for educational opportunities. Economically, it’s a good deal for Guam.  Environmentally and culturally the build-up might have a mixed impact, although I get a feeling that it’s people from the mainland who drive some of the sustainable future moves.

The admiral was clear about stating what he thought: the build-up is a good thing; de-colonization is not. And he has done a thorough study of history to support his opinions. About de-colonization: “That decision was made 50 years ago.”  Guam sent a representative to congress for some years, with instructions not to come back until Guam was officially a colony.  He pointed out that more Marines died on the shores of Guam than at Guadalcanal. The military here are willing to put their lives at stake for Guam and defend its shores again if necessary. They’ve built it back after typhoons and would do so again. He seemed confident that the military gives as much as it gets from Guam.

He also made it clear that the local government, without the aid of the federal government, would do very little to bring economic stability to the island.  He pointed out how much land the local government owns but does nothing with, including quite a bit of property handed over by the US government with habitable living quarters, which now are abandoned and rotting away (where my sons like to play pellet gun wars).  He accused the local government of caving in to a few activists on the build-up, and now it was time to “man up.” 

Here's the local write up with photos.

The admiral must have felt free to speak his mind after serving here years ago and again as commander of the region.  He knows Guam pretty well. And he knows his history extremely well. He’s been promoted to a three-star admiral, and he’s going to a war zone next. Why not say what he thinks? 

I'm typically a coward about speaking out.  Part of this is because I don't feel strongly enough about some issues. Sometimes I can see both sides. Other times I just don't see room for convincing someone to change a viewpoint. (For instance, Facebook posts are not going to win converts.) 

So I admire that the Admiral didn’t soft pedal his ideas.  He used humor but was direct. No one got up to leave; no one hissed. But I noticed several people besides myself looking around, thinking, “Did he really just say that?”  And I noticed that the local officials didn’t stay for the snacks, which were VERY good – fresh fruit, sushi, wontons, grilled kabobs, and delicious desserts.  Maybe they were offended, or maybe they just had other business to attend to.  Happily, they left those of us who did stay plenty to indulge in.

Clips we've watched lately

This video clip was shown at a home school conference I went to today. "Conference" is perhaps an overstatement. About 30 parents met at a church to hear Debra Bell talk about inspiring kids to love learning and to be independent learners. I have been despairing about my effectiveness as a home schooling mother lately, and actually had an interview yesterday to teach middle school English at the most expensive private school on the island (which would get my kids deeply discounted tuition). But Debra Bell was inspiring, as was this Sir Ken Robinson video.  Much to discern in the next month or so.

Onto another issue: I admit to being behind the times here, and I'm having a hard time getting excited by the candidates, but I was happy to see Notre Dame support the lawsuit against the HHS mandate. George Weigel makes some good points here. And this ad was kind of fun, although melodramatic. Made me miss Williamsburg.

A good link

My aunt shared this one, by George Weigel, on the continuing HHS debacle.  Glad to see Fr. Jenkins do the right thing.

Disenfranchised

Technically this isn’t a sin, but I feel I ought to confess to someone that I didn’t vote in the election Tuesday. I know I wasn’t the only one absent from the poles, but since at one point in time, I took an interest in politics, I feel guilty. Plus, I should be setting a good example for my children, especially the 13 yr old in the house who reads the Wall Street Journal cover to cover. (I could justify shelling out $100 for that subscription, even though I can’t bring myself to subscribe to AT&T for the free iphones we inherited.)

I didn’t vote because I couldn’t bring myself to commit. Not only did I find it impossible to commit to a candidate because no one matches up with my ideal politician, but I couldn’t decide what state to vote in. I last registered in Virginia. My driver’s license is from Mississippi. My husband’s home of record is Illinois, and now that military wives can maintain the same home of record as their husbands, instead of figuring out the legalities of each new state of residence regarding licenses, fees, taxes and registrations, I think I could have requested an absentee ballot like my husband did from Illinois. But I feel like an interloper voting in state elections. I haven’t lived in Mississippi long enough to know the state’s needs, I don’t have any legal connection to Virginia anymore, and the little I know about the candidates from Illinois isn’t good. At least Gene Taylor, who lost the election down here to Stephen Palazzo, seemed to be an honest to goodness Southern gentleman. He was pro-life despite being a Democrat, and reminded me of the reasons my grandparents were Democrats.


I suppose I’ll pay closer attention to the elections in a couple years and try to establish residency somewhere, so I can do my civic duty, especially since my husband’s livelihood depends on it. In the meantime, I am trying to cultivate a sense of rootedness even though the landlord called last week and asked if we minded if he put a for sale sign in the yard, if we were pretty certain we wouldn’t be staying. We don’t even have orders yet, and a move is at least eight months out. I feel a little sorry for the guy trying to maintain two homes, but I’m not too worried about having to keep the house pristine for potential buyers. On the other hand, I certainly don’t want to find temporary housing if a buyer does surface. Maybe we could move in with the landlord – his current house is enormous. I also don’t want the kids to start announcing that we won’t be here next year, so we don't lose friends. Today the second graders performed their All Saints’ Day presentation (better late than never), and my first grader kept talking about how he wanted to be St. John next year. Maybe he will be able to wear a camel hair tunic, but at a presentation somewhere else.

My attempt at rootedness?  Nurturing the nasturtium that recently sprouted in one of the planters I seeded last spring. I guess it figured now was a better time to bloom than in the swelter of summer.