Readers and Writers Christmas

Today is Christmas Eve, and I am preparing to partake in our annual family Readers and Writers Christmas. 

We are now in our ninth year of this tradition, and it has become such a special part of our holidays. I wanted to write a wee bit about how it works.

It all began when our family was pondering ways to celebrate Christmas in a meaningful way. It followed our "Charity Christmas" where we gave donations instead of gifts and "Green Christmas" where we used expensive burlap bags instead of wrapping paper. I can't remember the exact conversations and progressions that brought our Readers and Writers Christmas to fruition, but we all credit my sister-in-law Katie with the first spark that set it into motion.

So what is it?

Readers and Writers Christmas is the tradition of writing and reading a story as a Christmas gift to your nearest and dearest. 

There are no explicit rules! The story can be about anything: it can be true to life, it can be fiction, it can be written in any style and about any topic! I say no *explicit* rules because there are certain etiquette standards around duration and language use... best to keep it "family friendly" and considerate of time.

As you can imagine, over the years we have laughed and we have cried. We've used this time as a way to capture the highlights from the year. As a way to share pieces of ourselves that don't always come out during our regular gatherings.

Last year Alan and I wrote an Ode to Alan and Sue, capturing the special months we had spent together living in their home and looking to their guidance for what a loving marriage should be.

An all-time highlight was my sister Kate's education of "Christmas Casual," a side splittingly hilarious etiquette guide based on her real life experiences of matching a dress code.

We write about family, new births, building snowmen, politics, loss, heartache, joy, our favorite television shows, hilarious anecdotes from days gone by.

This type of expression and sharing does not come naturally to everyone. I met my husband just before our first year of Readers and Writers Christmas, which meant that by year two he was a participant. The idea of writing and reading a story aloud was literally his worst nightmare. He suggested we look into a power-lifting Christmas instead... With this said, he contributes year after year. He overcomes his fears and reservations and truly enjoys creating and sharing his story! Of course, above all he enjoys listening to the stories of others. It's a tradition we will carry with us.

Now, a special transition has taken place whereby the next generation, my nieces and nephews, are beginning to share their own stories as well. It is such a beautiful practice of expression and sharing to give to these young people. And of course, for them to give us! The stories from the next generation are bright, clever, insightful, warm... they are so creative and full of such joy that I have hope for the future!

I better end here as I have some finishing touches to add to my story for the year... but I just wanted to introduce you all to one of the Young family traditions that is so near and dear to my heart.

May you find your own expression and sharing this holiday season, whatever it is!

Merry Christmas!

Save DACA

I took this photo 5 years ago when driving through western Maryland, and I remember feeling so angry. I was angry at whoever went to the trouble of creating and erecting this sign to intimidate immigrants, whether they were "illegal" or not.

Then my anger was replaced by a sort of condescending sympathy for this ignorant eejit (eejit because I was living in Ireland at the time). I mocked their inability to spell, and their inability to think the way I did. Honestly, this was also wrong. It's this mentality that has given us liberals a bad name in recent times... that we are judgmental, and over-sensitive, and perceive ourselves to be elite.

I did myself and this person an enormous disservice by falling into this trap that our government has created for us. Which has divided us beyond recognition.

Because ultimately, I believe the person (I'm guessing it was a man, but I could be wrong) wants something similar to what I want. A better country! 

The difference is, this person is operating on inaccurate information about newcomers to our country. They have believed lies that scapegoat immigrants for every problem facing our country, pointing the finger at workers who came to the US without a visa to work within an economy that has been created and sustained on the back of such exploitation. Although they came without the correct paperwork, you better believe they had an invitation. That invitation came directly from the wealthy business owners who took advantage of such cheap labor.

Although I'd love to discuss this further, I'm not sure we have the capacity as a country to think about these larger issues at the moment. The urgent issue facing us all today is the status of 800k young people, who have met very particular requirements, to legally attain special protections under #DACA.

The social and economic contributions of these individuals is so clear, it's hard for me to understand how this legislation is even up for debate. The cost of deportation, the cost of losing these people from our society (not to mention the cost of a wall), is so great it will continue to plummet our country into debt. Worse yet, ignoring the ethical obligation we have to these young people, who arrived here as children, and have made the US their home, would bring us to such a level of darkness that it's hard to imagine how long it would take to recover.

My question is this: what can we do?

Sharing facts feels so pointless, and seems to agitate this divide even further.

How can we, republicans and democrats alike, find common ground on these issues, which are so clearly bipartisan?

Please, help me understand what we can do next!

Learning to Listen: A Liberals' search for Common Ground

I was in the pub the other week with friends and former colleagues, and politics came up...

On this particular occasion, the conversation turned to gun control. It could have been immigration, terrorism, police brutality, tax reform, health care... it could have been any number of issues currently up for debate. 

Within a very short period of time, my former colleague had stood up from the table and walked away while scoffing, 

"You don't listen to anyone, there's no point talking to you."

I was in shock. Wasn't I listening though? Weren't we having an informed debate? No, we weren't. Because his points seemed ill-founded, and I wasn't leaving any room for discussion. Because every time I spoke, I was trying to change his mind, and every time I stayed quiet, I was silently constructing arguments in my head to reinforce why I was right and he was wrong. If I'm honest with myself, I have had a number of conversations like this in my life... 

This inability to listen to one another is the biggest issue we're facing in the US today. 

In peace times, liberals and conservatives are able to co-exist comfortably all the while clinging tightly to their contradictory beliefs. This comfortable diversity of opinion is not possible during war times, when people are feeling threatened: when one side is, or perceives themselves to be, under attack by another side. 

I've learned about this dynamic during my years studying conflict. I've understood about "us" versus "them" mentalities, and I've watched societies work tirelessly to overcome them. In my experience, it's easier to breakdown barriers when they exist over there. 

Facing these deep divides personally, in my own family, in my own neighborhood, in my own country, is more difficult. Even though there is something deeply humbling about looking into my own prejudice and bias, it's still a challenge each and every time. 

With that said, I would like to try. So here it goes... 

Recently, I have been attempting to engage the "other" side. I've been reading and listening to tweets, blog articles, and interviews as well as participating in conversations with conservatives. I have spent a lot of time reading, repeating, re-tweeting, and celebrating views similar to my own over the past 1+ year (really the past nearly 30 years), so this has been a significant change. 

Engaging with ideas that are so wholly contradictory to my own is not comfortable but it is absolutely essential; not because I'm trying to find new ways to deconstruct and combat "other" points of view, but because I'm trying to understand where people are coming from so that we can find some common ground to relate to one another. Although I cannot always find ways to agree with the politics, I can usually find some way to connect with the person. 

Humor has been a really key element in finding common ground. I've come across some seriously witty and dry humor from our conservative fellow Americans, and it has helped me to build connections with people across the political divide. 

From laughter comes connection and from connection comes respect, and with respect we can begin having more meaningful conversations. Conversations with multiple sides, where we listen to each other and empathize with how people think and feel. 

My dad would call this "human being stuff" and up until now in my life, I took it completely for granted. But in the past year, I have seen such a polarization of our society and dehumanization of the "other" that I feel the need to employ my peace-building knowledge in any way I know how. 

I want to make it clear that I am still deeply committed to liberal values and the political causes that are near and dear to my heart. I am also part of the growing resistance against President Trump. However, I know there is a difference between Trump and his followers. And I know that without 30% of our country (who support Trump) and better still, without 50% of our country (who vote in line with conservative values) there is no progress to be made.

Regardless of the sides we've been forced to take, I know that when we stop hurling pre-constructed arguments at one another, we will find we have more common ground than we ever knew. 

A year of Trump

I'm taking a moment to remember (with a heavy heart) how much hope I was holding last year at this time... and reflecting upon how much has changed between then and now.

This last year has been riddled by fear.

Fear of losing entry to your country of residence, where you may even hold a green card, because of where you were born. Because of the Muslim Ban.

Fear of deportation from the only home you know. Because ICE officials are mobilizing, sanctuary cities are under attack, and government protections for DREAMers and Special Status are ending.

Fear of losing access to affordable health care for you and your family. Because our government wants to repeal and replace. Because women's health is a right not recognised by those in power.

Fear of natural disasters destroying all you own and love. Because our government feels they've already done enough, and aid may not be coming to you.

Fear of being gunned down in a mass shooting. Because in the face of unspeakable violence and loss, our president continues to speak out against restrictions and reform for gun safety.

Fear of taking a stand, or taking a knee, for the things you care about. For fear of being fired from your job. Or struck down by angry mobs of white supremacists who are given not just immunity, but a stronger voice, from our government.

Fear of civil war, of broken families and lost friendships. Because our president distorts reality to turn us against one another.

Fear of world war. Because our country threatens global powers and breaks treaties as a show of strength. Because our President was elected with the support of foreign money and foreign agendas.

Fear of the desecration of our earth. Because our country has withdrawn from the Paris climate agreement. Because our government has lifted bans on drilling in protected lands. Because corporate pollution is considered a necessary byproduct of capitalism. Because instead of investing in renewable energies, we are recommitting to fossil fuels.

Fear of so many other things...

To those who have been living in fear this past year because of the way our world is changing in this unbelievable way, I am with you, and I want to hear your story.

I want to fight with you in any way we can to find a way forward. Out from the fear.

We are still Stronger Together.

History and Hope: a Rhiannon Giddens concert review

I’m a huge fan of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, and in recent months have become more and more interested in Rhiannon Giddens’ solo work. Her most recent album, “Freedom Highway,” is one of the most compelling pieces of American storytelling that I’ve experienced. One song in particular from her new album, “Purchaser’s Option” moved me to attend her show last weekend at the Weinberg Center in Frederick.

Sunday's show was not only stunning musically but it was also inspiring. She reminded us that “we can do more together than we can do apart,” needing only to point so far as the music she performed, which draws inspiration from across the many roots of American history and culture.

Giddens was joined by a bluegrass legend, Dirk Powell, who was unknown to me before Sunday evening. He left a lasting impression on me, not only for his musical prowess but also for the message he brought to the stage. By way of introducing their rendition of "Birmingham Sunday" (originally performed by Powell's friend, the great Joan Baez), Powell shared a personal story about the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing, where 4 young African American girls were murdered by hate. 

Powell made a call to action for his friend, Doug Jones, who gave tirelessly in the fight for justice in this case and who fights now for a chance to represent Alabama in the Senate. He talked of the lessons he learned from Jones and others during this tragedy and expressed that if you do not love those who committed the bombing, you’ve already lost. He mentioned the words of wise men, such as Martin Luther King Jr, who shared the same message, that "hate cannot drive out hate." I thought of the magnanimous forgiveness of Mothers for Justice. I remembered the empowered women in Belfast who had suffered and carry with them deep trauma, but still have love to give. 

When I awoke the next day to learn that so many lives were lost in the Vegas shooting, I felt so completely overwhelmed by anger and sadness. My mind turned to politics. How could it be the president and his supporters were fighting so hard to ban Muslims, deport Mexicans, reduce our health care to nothing... all while we face the great epidemic of mass shootings. Nearly every time I think of an important issue near and dear to my heart, I feel overwhelmed by the deep divisions within our country. And I feel angry! But anger is not the answer. The story from Dirk Powell and the music from Rhiannon Giddens and band are a testament to the fact that empathy is the only answer. 

If we do not love those who sit opposite from us politically, of those who think and act in complete contradiction to what we believe, if we do not love these people too – we have lost already.

Building capacity for empathy is one of the greatest paths towards building meaningful peace. Listening to stories and music that embody the suffering, transformation and hope of our history and our humanity is an amazing way to develop this ability. 

Just as when I saw the Carolina Chocolate Drops, the show ended with the gospel song, "Up Above My Head," sending us off with an unexpected feeling of hope, difficult to attain after exploring such heavy and painful themes throughout the evening. It goes to show that the power of music is great, or in the words of the recently departed musical legend, Tom Petty, music is "pure and it's real. It moves, it heals, it communicates and does all these incredible things." May it continue to bring us closer to one another, and one step closer to peace. 

The Story We're Telling Ourselves about American History

In my life, I've had the very good fortune (read: white privilege) to study history, storytelling, and conflict. I've prioritized travel above all else, and for that reason, have seen places I had only ever dreamed of. What I've come to understand in this time of studying and travelling, very specifically to see divided societies, is that culture, society, and people are ever-changing.

Thinking back to my initial readings into culture, I remember the classic Geertz: culture is "the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves," often defined in public symbols. As I reflect now on the story we're telling ourselves currently in this country, we should be sure our public monuments, place names and public holidays are reflective of the values we hold most dear.

The monuments we erect, the way we name special places, and the people and days we celebrate are all part of how elevate, venerate and demonstrate to ourselves and to the world who exactly we think we are. Regardless of the actual intent or meaning, what matters most is the context in which they are interpreted (Geertz).

Now, more than ever, a Confederate flag says that whiteness is superior. It is a visible and visceral reminder of slavery and the continued injustices perpetuated against black Americans and other people of color. A Confederate General on horseback, looking triumphant in battle, is not reflective of our history! It is symbolic of the way in which we wanted to see ourselves in the 1880s, in the 1910s, in the 1950s -- when these statues were erected. It is now 2017, and these monuments have no place in our public spaces.

I wholeheartedly support the removal of Confederate statues in Baltimore and beyond. While I accept the Civil War as a core component of our national history, even of my personal family history (which has ties on both side of the conflict), I do not accept tributes and memorials in public spaces which define us verses them and instill fear. If you disagree that these symbols convey hate, look no further than the Charlottesville rally, whereby white-supremacists and neo-Nazis came together to protest the removal of symbols they believe to represent them. What more reason can we have to remove them from public spaces?

We cannot erase the conflict of the past, but we can put it in it's rightful place -- in text books, in museums, in spaces where lessons are learned. While we cannot change history, we can (and MUST) change the elements of history that we choose to define us!

We owe it to ourselves, and to the very values that make America truly great, to critically reflect upon the "story we tell ourselves about ourselves." 

Baltimore, Maryland