Brave, Anyway

Author: bravegirlwannabe

  • Perfection Redefined

    Perfection Redefined

    With the exception of Mary, I don’t think I’ve even once thought about the women in Jesus’ family tree. What a horrible thing to be true about a Christian and a feminist.

    But a few weeks ago I came across an artist named Tricia Robinson, and was really moved by her work and especially her words about The Four.

    Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba have something in common. They are grandmothers in Jesus’ family tree. Some were prostitutes, involved in affairs, some lied and were truly not the starry-eyed perfect princess. But God chose them…these four broken women. And that’s why I gave them crowns. A symbol of grace and love from our Creator and Redeemer.

    The Four, by Tricia Robinson

    I knew the stories of these women, but it never occurred to me that they were part of the lineage of Jesus. And it struck me that I have harbored a secret belief that all the people in His family were and are people who meet a high standard of perfection.

    I know that I can lean toward perfectionism and I thought I had identified all the thought patterns that needed redirection, until my reaction when I saw this artist’s work and her words. The bad and the ugly is that I still expect perfection of myself, and that’s not an attainable goal.

    I am very disciplined about setting realistic goals at work, but I am not-so-disciplined in my personal life. Particularly as it relates to setting realistic expectations of myself in my most important job: mom. I guess maybe a lot of moms fret about whether or not everything they say and do is enough, but I really feel that weight more in the last few years because my girls need and deserve a parent who is focused above all on them and who sets a good example.

    I may not be out sleeping around, but I certainly drop F bombs and can get my judge-y on. Translate: I’m far from anyone’s definition of perfection, including and especially my own.

    I also love the words of Ann Voskamp, which Tricia Robinson shared in her packaging with the print:

    Four broken women – women who felt like outsiders, like has-beens, like never-beens…women who didn’t fit in…And Jesus claims exactly these who are wandering and wondering and wounded and worn out as His.

    I feel like an outsider regularly. Depending on where I am, I may be the Christian who’s not a Republican, the Mom who asks uncomfortable questions of other kids’ parents, the one who won’t come to something if I can’t bring my girls with me, or the opinionated divorced lady who makes people uncomfortable because I am not afraid to stand up for myself or to encourage women to stand up for themselves. I’m a girl who doesn’t care about hair and make-up. I’m not a “single-pringle” looking for fun, but a woman committed to peace. And I’m not good at keeping up with friends and I don’t go on girl trips because in my non-working hours I hang out with my girls, cook with my father-in-law, or yell at the news and my Twitter feed.

    I am also wandering and wondering and worn out regularly. There’s a never-ending list of things I feel like I haven’t done (and that I actually haven’t done!). There’s a never-ending list of things I need to do with and for the girls, and that I need to teach them about and to talk to them about. There’s a never-ending list of things I’ve missed and of things that I never even thought about needing to cover until a situation arises and I think How did I not think about and plan for this conversation??? Which brings me back to: I’m far from anyone’s definition of perfection, including and especially my own.

    Maybe I should redefine “perfection” as simply doing the best I can. Because grace. But can I do that? Maybe it’s brave to accept a radical notion like my best is enough. Because grace. But is that crazy?

    As I was pondering it all tonight, Audrey fell off her bike and skinned her knees. I ran to grab the bin of materials to get her all cleaned up, and when I opened the gallon Ziploc bag of Band-Aids – which are the leftovers from dozens of boxes and themes we’ve had over the years – the one she pulled out said Brave.

    The family of Jesus is filled with imperfect people and followers. I’m one of them.

  • Back To School?

    Back To School?

    There’s no way we can go back to school and keep children and educators safe. I’ve resigned myself to this, and at the same time it makes me really frustrated and really angry.

    There are tourists and locals filling restaurants here every night. Bars are open. The local water park is hosting kids and their families each day. Music lessons and gymnastics practices and dance classes have resumed for kids. How is it that so many unnecessary elements of life are functional and school is a giant omnishambles?

    I’m thankful that businesses have been able to re-open and that people have been able to get back to work. I’m thankful that people can start to pay their rent and their bills. But I can’t shake this feeling that while it’s great that my daughters and I could get our hair done and have acrylic nails put on, that’s not what we – meaning our government and leaders – should have chosen as the stuff to focus on.

    It’s clear to me that we’ve put lots of thought and energy and resources into many wrong things since mid-March. We have kids back on balance beams and to practices for whatever sports they play, but what the hell were we doing focusing even one ounce of energy on those things before we figured out how to safely educate our nation’s children?

    In the last four months that we’ve known about this coming problem, it just seems like we’ve done a whole lot of nothing. And now we have proposed the couple paths of least resistance, giving parents (but not really teachers) a “choice,” and we are calling that our best.

    1. Students can attend school in person, full or part-time, with safety protocols.

    or

    2. Students can opt for 100% online, with parents committing to this plan for the first half of the year.

    Source for local options in Chesapeake, Virginia.

    In some districts, school is 100% virtual for the first quarter with the goal of 50/50 later in the year – meaning 2 days a week for some, 2 days a week for others, and 1 day a week teacher work day. In some districts, no decisions have officially been made yet – although I think they have been made and elected cowards are delaying the inevitable backlash as long as possible.

    Distance learning, as we’ve had it, was not learning. Learning is the acquiring of new knowledge. At best our distance program was maintenance. Maintenance with really crappy technology that was not designed for the volume it’s been seeing. Maintenance because maybe it kept some children at the level they were on when they walked out of schools on March 13. Maintenance that really only benefitted those children living in the best of circumstances, with technology at home and parents or siblings or caregivers to help.

    I realize that the plan for “learning” is supposed to be different for the fall session than it was back in the spring, but I just don’t see how it can possibly be that effective – especially for children who aren’t privileged in some way. In the spring, Audrey’s elementary school teacher was absolutely fantastic. She sent regular updates, she gave clear directions for where to find everything, and she even scheduled one-on-ones with her students and showered them with love and attention and encouragement. From my vantage point, she did everything she could and more with the limited resources and guidelines she had. And yet on the weekly zoom calls she hosted, many – like roughly ⅓ – of the children didn’t attend and some of the children from Audrey’s class literally never attended. I wonder how those children are faring? I wonder if anyone making decisions about school wonders about how those children are faring and really considers them in these decisions?

    At the high school level, I experienced three categories of engagement from teachers. Some sent no status until the end of the year. Some sent a progress report every 2-3 weeks. One teacher sent a consistent weekly report or check-in. That regular check-in was from Ella’s PE teacher, and while I was thankful for the update that’s not the class I was wondering about. But the bottom line is that each of those levels of engagement for my high school student was fine because she’s an honor student. She got her work done, which I was able to check online at any time, and she will likely always do so with little-to-no prodding by me. Learning is not hard for her and she lives in a home with high-speed internet and with a parent who can work from home. She has the ability to ask questions of dozens of smart friends and adults any time. (Although I could not help with trigonometry if my life depended on it.) She is privileged.

    Distance learning is not ideal for large portions of our population now matter how you cut it – for children who struggle with learning, for children who don’t struggle with learning, for children who have fewer resources, for children who have IEPs or 504s. Distance learning is not ideal for many children who are privileged and downright not possible for many children who aren’t. And yet if distance learning is truly the only safe option, why have we put so little effort into making it feasible for as many children as possible?

    I understand that to some extent our leaders are reacting to a situation that is constantly changing, but how did we not have even a basic disaster plan for education in a time of war or crisis that we could have built upon for something like this health crisis? How did companies around the world send millions of people to work at home and we can’t figure out something better than the constantly-crashing Schoology? How come other countries have figured this out and we haven’t? (I do know that in part the answer to that last question is that citizens of those other countries acted like adults, put on their big-people panties, and wore the damn masks to prevent the kind of health crisis we’re facing in the U.S.)

    It seems like we just put all the wrong people on this task force. This is not the fault of teachers. This is the fault of leaders. And this is the fault of voters. We’ve made some very poor leadership choices, and now our children are going to suffer the consequences of that. That weighs on me. I pay a lot of attention to national elections and state elections, but not as much to local school board stuff. That is a bad, bad, bad habit.

    I don’t have any answers. Just frustrations. And regrets. And foreboding. And sadness. And a growing worry that at some point we’re even going to expect our teachers to pay for their own PPE.

  • Quarantine Work-at-Home Learnings

    Quarantine Work-at-Home Learnings

    Every single work blouse I have can be paired with jeans that are old and ripped. Work pants are unnecessary BS in my closet and in my life, taking up space where more cute and comfy tops could be.

    Breaks are way more important than I thought and I need to take them regardless of my work location. It takes me 12 minutes to ride my bike around the neighborhood with my 9-year old. That 12 minutes changes the way I think about or dismiss a lot of things that happen each day.

    When there’s no one around to judge and make snarky comments, a spoon in a jar of peanut butter is lunch.

    For the first few weeks of quarantine, I thought I missed lunch with friends. But once we started having Zoom lunches, I realized that what I actually miss is lunch with friends where someone makes us fresh tacos and guacamole.

    I want afternoon chocolate no matter the location of my office.

    Commutes take precious time away from family. However, they also provide a transition between work and home, and I surprisingly miss that 30 minutes where I was regularly yelling at slow drivers to get out of the fast lane.

    I hate decorating, mostly. The whole idea of it is weird – using stuff to distract from the reality of what is or what’s there. But I have realized that I like to surround myself with positive affirmations no matter where I am, and that positive affirmations have a big impact on my attitude. They’re not only a good reminder for us about who we want to be, but a signal for others about who we aspire to be and what they should expect of us.

    A bald eagle flies high up in the sky outside my home office window every now and then. She is regal and fierce and graceful. When I worked in the office, even though two of my “walls” are floor to ceiling windows, I rarely took the time to look outside for rejuvenation or inspiration. I watch for my eagle each day now, eagerly awaiting her appearance. She reminds me of the words of Isaiah: But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.

    I look rough by 3 pm, which I’ve always suspected but now know with certainty as I stare back at myself in Zoom.

    Zoom me throughout the day.

    My body and brain need the same amount of caffeine whether I get up at 5:30 to get a high schooler off for the day or I sleep until 7:30 because my first Zoom isn’t until 8:30.

    Whether at home with two dozen mugs to select from or in the office with two mugs to select from, I’m going to drink from the same mug every day.

    If I’m stuck on the side of the road and my cell phone is dead and a passerby offers me their phone to call a friend for help, I’m not going to remember the phone number of any one of my contacts. I will, however, be able to enter the Zoom ID for any one of my daily meetings.

    It used to be taboo for children and pets to make noise on the occasional day someone, or we, worked from home. But I am convinced now that we know our colleagues on another level – we know and understand them better – because we’ve seen the smiles they have only with family.

    I miss those moments when I make eye contact with one of my peeps across a conference room or an aisle or a hallway, and we each roll our eyes (or know that we want to roll our eyes but should not and will not). I also miss those moments when I make eye contact with one of my peeps and neither one of us speaks but we know that we’re each thinking “that’s what she said.”

    I’m not ever going to be the mom that makes dinner 5 nights a week, even when we don’t have activities and even when my commute is just a walk downstairs.

    Whether it’s the stairs in my office building or the stairs in my house, I will go to great lengths and make up detailed excuses to avoid taking them.

    I’m always cold, whether I’m working from home or working in the office. Air conditioning is necessary for me and yet never at the right temperature for me.

    When I was a kid, I loved school supplies. When I became an adult that transitioned to office supplies. Even though we do everything electronically, and even though I don’t use any of this stuff in my daily work at home, I still love to be surrounded by paper and post-it’s and pens and pencils and markers. Also, I need highlighters on my desk and in my life even though I never ever highlight anything – and I’m not sure why.

    I have not worn real shoes since March 13. No sneakers, no flats, no heels, no boots, no sandals. Only flip flops. Even for bike riding, even on the early chillier days, and even though I haven’t been getting pedicures. I am not sure my feet will embrace the eventual boomerang back to coverage.

    My favorite part of every workday starts with Audrey waiting in the hallway just outside my office at about 5pm. She knows my daily wrap-up may be 5 minutes or 25 minutes, so she often waits with a device. But as soon as she hears everyone say have a good night, she comes running in for what she calls end-of-the-day hugs and jumps into my arms or lap. It’s the absolute best, and I never would have experienced it if not for quarantine.

  • Home

    What makes a home is very simple: love and safety.

    Safety to be your whole self and to say anything, while knowing without a shadow of a doubt that you will always be unconditionally loved by the people there.

    It’s true when you’re 5 and when you’re 75.

    Home can be a house, apartment, tent, car, aisle in Target, and even in a phone call. It’s about the space you’re in with another person or other people.

    It’s not about bricks or walls or appliances or decorations.

    If you don’t have love and safety, you are in a place called a building or a dwelling or a house – you are not in a home.

    If you don’t have love and safety, you are not home.

  • How To Be A Good American

    How To Be A Good American

    July 4 has me thinking about what it means to be a good American, and all my paths of thought seem to end with people who are really disappointing right now. It’s not that hard to be a good citizen, to be a good American, to be a good human. So why are we having so much trouble?

    When you bump into someone, say you’re sorry. Even if the other person is grumbling or glaring at you, you say you’re sorry because you did the bumping. You never ever pull out a gun, or point your gun at children. And you never ever make excuses for that sort of behavior.

    Don’t say All Lives Matter. I’m giving most people the benefit of the doubt here and just assuming you don’t realize how awful that statement really is, but let me be clear: no matter how you try and spin it, you’re showing your rear-end when these words come out of your mouth. All lives don’t currently matter equally, and they never have in this country, which is why the statement Black Lives Matter is important. It’s not a statement that white lives or police lives matter less, it’s not a statement that you endorse people who riot, and it’s not even a statement that you believe in protesting or civil disobedience. It’s a statement of love for your neighbor, and of recognition of wrongs.

    Examine the roots of why you believe strongly in the things you do, and if there are inconsistencies or things that are downright wrong in your heart about your beliefs. Do you believe that good Americans or good people don’t publicly question the President or leadership? That good Americans don’t protest? That good Americans, good people, are from one political party or another? Because those things are not rooted in our founding or declaration at all, and while we’re at it they are also not rooted biblically. Do you think because there are people in your life that you love that are not like you that you don’t harbor any racist or hateful thoughts or feelings or versions of history? That’s a lie. We all have some learning to do and some work to do. We have to commit to understanding our inconsistencies and our convenient little lies, to ourselves and to others, and to the work to do better. And we need to understand that until we do, all our arguments to convince people we’re right are falling on the deaf ears of people who know we don’t have our act together.

    There are no white people in the Bible.

    Stop fighting over symbols of hate and inequity and injustice, and recognize instead HOW MANY OF THEM EXIST. Our land – our hearts and minds – are literally filled with symbols of racism. Statues and mascots and team names and confederate flags. Even people who don’t want to take them down or change them acknowledge what they are, and they argue not to take them down or make changes on the basis that they are historical or because those men were veterans. Symbols of oppression and hatred, even if they are a part of our history and even if they are of people who fought in a war and even if you believe the original meaning to some people may have been something else, cannot be glorified in public places as if the men and symbols were or are great.

    Wear a mask when you’re in a public place. It’s not a sign of oppression, or that you’re a snowflake, or that you don’t believe in God enough for protection and healing. The vast majority of you are wearing seatbelts and getting vaccinated for polio so just stop with the I have rights on this topic. No one wants to do it or likes to do it. It’s a pain in the butt for everyone. But the reality is that Covid numbers are the only way in which the south is rising again.

    Before you repost or post on social media, take 10 seconds to google for truth. Grandma Sandy from Topeka is not necessarily the most credible source of info on crime, history, who’s holding secret fundraisers for politicians, or voting laws in the state of Idaho. Stop spreading false information. It’s us, average American citizens, that are spreading the vast majority of fake news.

    People are so frustrating right now.

    We are so much better than this. We are so much smarter than this. And I refuse the notion that this land is filled with mostly selfish and crappy people.

    My company has been conducting town halls and small group discussions about all that’s happening in our world right now, and our moderator introduced the sessions with some really smart guidance that I think can apply in all sorts of situations.

    1. Assume positive intent from others when they say or do ignorant things.

    2. Take accountability for the impact of your words and actions, because you don’t get to choose how they impact others.

    3. In this time you may find yourself feeling uncomfortable. Ask yourself why and really think about it. Is it because you learned that what you used to think maybe isn’t totally true, that perhaps you have biases that you were not thoughtful about, that behavior or thoughts in your past when you didn’t know better make you feel ashamed?

    4. And above all, don’t hide from those thoughts and feelings – use them to change.

    Freedom means we have “the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.” That also means we have the freedom to see when we’re on the wrong path in an area and get on a new one. We are free to change our minds, change our thought patterns, change our behaviors, and change our tired old ways to be better.

    Maybe change is how we best display our commitment to America.