Inspiration and Our Children

The holidays are a mixed bag for many people. Memories of drunken arguments are interspersed among my happy memories of holidays with relatives. I love my family dearly and have made it a rule that all opinions may be expressed in my home, although I know I would not accept a racist comment without responding strongly. We have had a few arguments in the last two decades, but it does not keep us from getting together and having fun.

 I would do anything for my kids (except racism, sexism, etc.) from the moment they were born. My friend called it the mother hen syndrome. I have told my oldest that I was a pacifist until he was born. At that time, I knew I would kill anyone that tried to kill him.

Why do our children inspire us so much? For me, the reason is that my children have surpassed me in so many ways. My oldest is a prize-winning racer. He runs up tall buildings and has done marathons and triathlons. His running took off in junior high, and he was part of a team that took second place at state in high school. He is a programmer and he is much more proficient in that than I am, as well. My second child has made a beautiful home for his family in the country and manages a school district's technology. His spiritual growth began to eclipse mine in his young adult years, and he and his wife have raised three children with beautiful characters. More about them later. My youngest was the artist, and showed talent in singing and art from a very early age. Unable to find full-time employment in those fields, she transformed her life with an advanced degree and began a beautiful family several years ago. She treats patients for speech and voice problems, although she is presently home with her first child.

Ah, grandchildren. The best part of getting old. My oldest grandchild is the spirit of kindness, even to her siblings. She has begun to develop her musical talent and we play/sing with her sister and other family members when we get together. She is fascinated by succulents at the moment. She (and her siblings) knows more than I do about my favorite subjects, such as space and plants. Once she learns something, she doesn't forget it. The second grandchild, lover to all the world, has performed as a dancer and pianist, and she knows everything her sister does. You wouldn't know there are two years between them. They will be a force for good in the world. The third grandchild tries to keep up with his sisters. He came from a different country, culture, and DNA source. His life has been a long adjustment to different food, climate, culture, and behavior. He shines in his loving kindness to others. And grandchild number four is waiting to meet me. She is waking, eating, sleeping and pooping at the present time, but has been born into a loving, healthy home. What will her future look like in the decades to come? I was hit with the difference in generations when I took a Spanish class at the local community college. The teacher asked about different activities we did when we were young. Toys - I rode my bike, TV shows - Smothers Brothers, Video games - didn't exist, Vacations - camping in the Rockies, books - Lassie and Ladd, the Red series. Most of the young people in the class had no clue what I was talking about except, of course, the Rockies.

I am at the age when I blink and it's time to put the garbage out again. I don't even try to think about time passing anymore, since I have no control over it. It also means I've had a remarkable year, with lots of fun and not much suffering. Last night my oldest granddaughter beat me soundly in a simple game of strategy, twice. Thank goodness for the coming generations. They inspire us to live our best lives and make their world better.

Pack Rats Unite!

When’s the last time you went through your closets? I got carpeting a couple of weeks ago and brought all of the boxes that had been in the closet downstairs. My daughter confirmed that I was looking a lot like a hoarder. However, I am determined to get rid of stuff my children will not want when I die. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Swedish custom of dödstädning, “death cleaning.” My non-fiction book club read The Boomer’s Burden last year, and I was shocked when all three of my children refused the souvenirs Dad brought back from WWII. My oldest at least listened to the story of my dad’s front line experiences, the few he shared with us. But that’s another story

The topic this year is inspiration. While going through a box full of my mementos, I ran across a letter from a friend of thirty years, Jim Gieseler. He told me that I inspired him. Single mothers impressed him, given all that they had to do. When I was going through a messy divorce and poverty with my three beloved children, I could not see what I was supposed to learn from the experience. I have faith that God loves me as much as I love my children (or more), but I’m not sure he has control over what suffering we impose on each other — free will and all. Now I read this letter and I know my suffering was building character and showing others how to strive when odds were against them. My friend has five children. His life could not have been easy. But I am grateful that he saw the best in me and told me so. 

Who is inspiring you? Have you told them lately? What’s keeping you from it? Do it now. Time is never promised.

Haben Girma

Haben Girma 

I get a daily news blurb from Katie Couric called the Wake-up Call. She recently wrote a small paragraph about a woman named Haben Girma, who was a child of refugees, black and deafblind. She graduated from Harvard Law School and has a web page here. I went to UIUC (top 10% of my class), got a Master’s in Special Education and went on to get a Certificate of Advanced Study in Technology in Education and it never occurred to me that I was capable of getting a law degree, much less from Harvard. This woman is amazing. I have a digital copy of her new memoir, called Haben: The Deafblind Woman Who Conquered Harvard Law. She has some wonderful suggestions on her web site for making disability stories positive. I wrote last month about my friend Nancy, who was attacked by West Nile Virus in her 60s and has continued to live actively, even if she is in a wheelchair. This would be something Haben would like. I think it's true of those who work with the disabled, too.

Haben wants to see disabled people regarded as other-abled, like many teachers in special ed do. For years, people with learning disabilities were regarded with the term “Minimal Brain Dysfunction.” Now we know that learned disabled people are often very smart and creative.  The same is true for those with autism. Previously regarded as cognitively impaired, we have learned that they can learn to read, use iPads for communication, and are very loving. The scientific community will continue to discover more talents of people with disabilities in the future.

Haben has some hearing in the upper ranges and her voice coach (which is what my daughter is!) helps her prepare speeches for TEDx and other speaking engagements. She helps writers prepare stories that frame the disabled in a positive way.

As a spoiled suburban girl brought up in a lower-middle class home with both parents, I was determined to not “settle” for any job. I wanted enough income to support three children and send them through college. That’s a pretty high bar these days, but I did it by ignoring people who were not interested in my abilities and judged my by my age, gender, and marital status. If my employer didn’t care that I could program a computer or at least choose software for my classroom, I found an employer that not only appreciated my skills, but hired me to teach them to others. My biggest discrimination hurdle came as I aged, but I was able to connect with others in my retirement and am still using those skills. That’s the message I take from Haben Girma. If you want to do something, don’t let culture stand in your way. Keep looking for avenues to express your talent. We are all needed and do our best when we are interdependent.

How Inspiration Affects Us

It’s not that the theme inspiration is difficult to write about. It’s just that I have been seeing the word everywhere. Living your life in a way that others want to emulate is inspiring, and the people who inspire others don’t do it because they want to inspire others. It’s done because they feel they must do it. One of the poets that inspires me is Mary Oliver. Her poem The Journey describes perfectly that drive “You knew what you had to do,” as one who has had to make a difficult choice. “and there was a new voice/ which you slowly/recognized as your own.” It ends “determined to save/the only life that you could/save.“ 

This is a perfect description of positive disintegration described by Kasimir Dabrowski in his work. A person gets negative feedback from all sides when he/she decides to make a life change, yet the more that person follows that choice, the better he/she feels about life. 

I always think of artists in this way. Vincent Van Gogh worked quickly in a style different from anyone else and changed the course of history. He didn’t discover his artistic talent until he was twenty-seven, after he had failed to support himself by evangelism. He did not receive acclaim until after his death.

I see it often in twelve-step programs. A member comes to a meeting in so much pain they are willing to do anything. If they follow the suggestions given by those who have gone before (stories in the literature, stories at open meetings), they find there is a way out of their misery. Others around them may not support this change, though. They are comfortable with the misery and change is scary. Sometimes that person has to leave friends and family behind and spend more time around people who understand what is happening.

One of my friends is very inspiring. Nancy Lundquist had a very happy existence with a husband and family living in Wrigleyville in Chicago. One weekend, she was bitten by one of the sixty-five species of mosquitos which carried the West Nile Virus. Thinking she had the flu, she didn’t go for medical care until the following week. By then, the virus had entered her brain and caused encephalitis. She became paralyzed although she regained some of the coordination in her upper body. Her drive to create drove her to continue working on jewelry and crocheted objects. She lives in a nursing home. Last fall, her husband died, and it’s possible she will lose all of their assets to pay for her care. This summer she got pneumonia and has been under medical care for two months. Is she discouraged? Of course. Does she continue to take care of herself? Yes, she does. I, for one, am grateful that this beautiful person with a powerful intellect and strong creative will continues to grace my life. She is an inspiration to me to persist under extreme adversity.