There was one day each year our Catholic parish could expect the Bishop to visit. Every year the children in the fourth grade, age 10 or so, made their Confirmation of Faith. We studied the tenets of our faith so we would understand more fully what it would mean to be confirmed. This was critical because the one thing that sank in was the idea that we would not only promise to live our faith, fully and with integrity; we would pledge to be willing to die for our faith, as many of the Catholic saints had done over the centuries. In fact, we chose a name for ourselves of a saint who inspired us to live our faith as fully as they. I chose Bernadette, a young girl unable to be shaken from her spiritual experiences, despite opposition even from church leaders. She was open to the unexpected, unexplainable mysteries of her faith; courageous and persistent, resilient and humble. She could face down any opposition to live her faith experience.
We had learned through study and life experience that others opposed our beliefs, and especially, our assumed authority to represent Jesus Christ’s teaching . We saw our priests, and even ourselves, as part of the line of succession from Peter the Apostle. A lot of wrongdoing and audacity occurred in between Peter’s time and mine. We were taught to acknowledge errors, correct them and move on. A daily examination of conscience and frequent confession kept us on track.
As a very short child, I led the procession into church. The Bishop asked us a few questions ascertaining that we understood what we were about to promise. I was the first to be confirmed, kneeling at the altar rail, shaking like a leaf, praying for courage. The Bishop spoke the words reminding me that my faith required a willingness to die for Christ. I responded that I would. The Bishop then struck my cheek with a blow so hard those in the back pews could hear the slap, my head snapping to the side. The Bishop looked horrified. I could feel the sting of his hand. I was reminded alright!
After the service ended, we processed from our pews to the rear of the church, the Bishop and altar servers before us. The Bishop waited for me at the door and joined my parents and family as we stood on the church steps. His handprint was still visible on my cheek. He humbly apologized to me and to my parents. Since I was the first child he had underestimated the strength of his blow, and was mortified. I had never expected to see a mortified bishop. It made my heart open to him as human being, no longer an authority figure. Those moments of my confirmation remain with me, 67 years later, as if they happened yesterday. Over the years I had need of the lessons learned that day.
I learned that faith is not a mind-game, nor a mere consideration. It is a calling to act with integrity, love and compassion. It requires the willingness to suffer for others; to learn them, see them, hear them even when I had to “suffer through” them. I suffered through those I did not like nor respect, as well as those I respected and loved. I learned that those in authority held no power over me unless I gave it to them. I could have withheld respect and forgiveness to a bishop who hit me so hard it hurt. I chose to forgive him and accept his unintended harm. However, I never shirk from showing those in authority the harm they do. It is probably one reason I became a lawyer. I experienced justice that day. Too many in our America do not. It is those we must be willing to die for. Our faith requires it.
I listened to two Catholics, Senator Bernie Moreno from my state of Ohio and Vice-President J.D. Vance defend and protect the President Trump’s unlawful war, threats of genocide, and destructive blasphemy the past few days. They were confirmed. Do they not recall their vow to defend and protect our faith and our church as they attack our Pope? Do they not understand integrity and morality? What did they promise as they affirmed their Catholicism when confirmed? I am not truly surprised because they also seem to have forgotten their vow to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States and Ohio, and the laws of both when they sworn into office as senators and then, Vance, as Vice-President.
These are not men of conviction willing to suffer for their faith. They are not humble. They lack integrity. They lie. They attack when they should defend… not just the Pope but human beings in Gaza, Iran, Minneapolis, and every city and hamlet in America. They attack instead of defend our people of color, LGBQT and transgender citizens, our women and children, our elderly and disabled, our working poor, our refugees and immigrants. They would suppress votes of students, women, the working poor, the elderly and disabled and brazenly support the provisions in the SAVE act suppressing our votes. All the while they pretend to protect us and our vote. They stay silent while our military is used to perform war crimes, and while our country’s leaders threaten to annihilate others in violation of the Geneva Convention and human rights.
The attack on a Catholic Pope is just part of the plan to replace loving faith and care for others preached by Jesus Christ on his Sermon on the Mount with power and control over others fed by greed and arrogance. It was easy to abuse the weakest among us. Now, they openly abuse a powerful church leader preaching Jesus Christ’s teachings. Of course, Trump posted an AI construction of himself as Jesus Christ. Of course Vance and Moreno, and other republicans think it is meaningless, a joke. The explanation is as great a lie. It has meaning. It is meant to promote abuse and control at the expense of others. These men were not slapped hard enough when they were confirmed as Catholics. They are not willing to suffer any political nor financial loss to help others. As a Catholic, I hold them accountable and ask them to recall their vows; to their church and to the American people.
Tomorrow will turn into today; 2025 to 2026. We will still resist negativity and embrace one another as we seek to create a more American America, fully embracing, perhaps for the first time, our Constitution and Bill of Rights. It will be more difficult than ever. But, I am hopeful it can be done because of my faith in each of you.
I am thankful to all who read by poetry, political essays and family stories. You cover the globe. Your hands reach across oceans. Your hearts embrace human kindness. Your minds seek truth. Your souls seek justice. You give me the blessing of your attention to address the problems we face. Somehow, united across the globe, such intention to do good and treat one another with mutual respect, will work miracles. We shall overcome the darkness as we enlighten each other’s lives. You enlighten mine. I thank you, dear readers. Happy New Year! A new morning comes.
Dominican Sisters taught me in grades 1-12. Sister Robertine was my Latin teacher, but so much more. She was the woman who taught me what feminism looked like. She could outwit and outplay our male principal, the priest who thought he ran the school. He did not. She did. She explained, “It is a man’s world; but, a woman’s heaven. Still, you can make it yours.” When we heard clicking rosary beads (we heard her before we saw her) we knew to stand up straight and behave ourselves. She gave no quarter. I wish I had her photo. I wish every child had a Sister Robertine to love them into goodness and greatness. She has been gone many years but her words still resonate; as she explained, words always do. There were two cornerstones at our grade school read: “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Sister Robertine struck that fear in us; then told us only the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it could be.Thank you, Sister!
Words create the reality we fear,
or one in which we can rejoice, and hold dear,
and spend our lives, seeing more clear.
Words have power to describe us,
inflame us, excite us,
or kill what is inside us.
Words can kill when taken in
by others’ hearts mired
in grace or sin.
Sister Robertine said:
Be careful what you read,
what you see at the movies, or on T.V.
Garbage in is garbage out.
That is what words are all about.
She knew A. I. before it was accelerated
by techno wizards, not the Divine
who works at a slower pace
to afford human-kind much-needed grace.
Sister Robertine said:
Dress how you want to act,
How you hope to be,
how you want to be seen.
You can create each day,
play the part in your own play.
You will soon become
whom you hope to be.
Dress with self-respect
and respect you will get.
Sister Robertine said:
only “X” or “BIG X”
when our answer was incorrect.
No rewards nor praise
for getting it right.
Working hard to get it right,
to see it through
was the least we could do.
Our reward for seeking knowledge was integrity.
Our reward for dressing well was respect.
Our reward for working hard was strength.
Our reward for seeking hard truths was character.
We could then write our own play,
play our chosen roll, on our own stage.
We could live lives that mattered,
live lives in which lies were shattered.
We could live in the spotlight of grace and power
to change the world for good, hour by hour.
Like all good teachers, Sister Robertine directed the play.
I am grateful for such a teacher every single day.
First because I have chronic fatigue syndrome, sometime called ME, CFIDS, and now, similar to long Covid. I became very ill and disabled from my illness 36 years ago. I was told then I would be lucky to walk again, likely need a wheel chair or cane. Great medical care from osteopathic manipulative medicine and acupuncture, years of pushing physical boundaries allow me to walk, for short distances. I can care for myself at home. I taught myself to read and write again by writing in a journal every morning. Despite brain fog, I developed a blog. My earliest efforts were poems. Gradually, I re-learned grammatical forms. Dyslexic imagery means my written words are sometimes corrupted. Lately, ChatGP has stolen even more of my words when it fails to recognize dyslexic word forms and alters words I do not always catch. My eyes and my brain take a while to catch up. Still, I must write to connect to the larger world I once participated in with gusto.
I practiced law as the Associate Director of Legal Affairs for Ohio University and Assistant Attorney General for the state of Ohio. In my spare time I taught law as an adjunct Associate Professor to advanced undergraduate and graduate students. I taught Business Law, School Law, Vocational Education Law, Law and Medicine (at O.U.medical school), and created courses and taught Social Welfare Law and a race relations course. I co-founded OU STARS, training and mentoring students to run race relations programs and workshops. I visited other campuses, community organizations and political groups and lectured on law as it applied to them. I love the law. I love the Constitution and the Bill Of Rights. I loved teaching and sharing my love of law with every audience available to me.
It was difficult to be sidelined from such an active life sharing the love of the law. It is difficult now to watch the hatred of the law spewed from the lips of a president, vice-president, Secretary of State, Director of Homeland Security, every federal agency, Speaker of the House and Senate Majority Leader. Watching the dismantling of the Rule of Law is almost too painful to write about. Watching the Supreme Court ignore centuries of stare decisis, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and every legal norm makes me want to scream until my throat is raw. it makes me tremble in disgust. Nightmares steal my sleep. I watch my country dissolve as it laws are twisted, debased, ignored and stomped upon. The only thing capable of holding together a nation dedicated to personal freedom is the law assuring no person is above the law. Otherwise disrespect and hatred toward other persons fueled by our animal nature inevitably leads to anarchy and self-destruction. We must hold the line against this administration and those who have tried to take and hold power only for themselves. To do so they must destroy the rule of law. That is what see every day. That is what I mourn every moment. Thank God for lawyer Marc Elias. He holds our hope and beliefs in his legal briefs.
The media giants, universities, Republican state and local leaders are silent or complicit in the destruction. Worse, the voters, including family-friends-neighbors, pay little attention to what is happening. Or. worse, support what is happening. I do not know how to find forgiveness. I pray for grace to do so. Finally, my church is realizing it must oppose such forces. However, its last few decades has seen it fully supporting those destroying our freedoms because of its unwillingness to acknowledge the right of women to control their own bodies. The right of women to hold sexual power. Nothing threatens a misogynistic organization more than women holding power in their own hands. At last, heroes like Fr. Pfleger of Chicago have seen enough. They are speaking out. An answer to my prayer. I keep praying!
On October 18, I shall join millions of Americans our government has labeled traitors and evil people as we American freedom-lovers celebrate NO KINGS DAY. I ask you to join us, wherever you live. Will it place you at risk? The federal government leaders want you to think so. They want you afraid to stand up for the Constitution and laws which govern our democracy, and protect it from autocracy. We are stronger the larger the groups. If you are unable to stand on the street beside us, drive by and honk in support. If you cannot do that, encourage all you know to join us in any way they can. Please do not sit there and shake your head. Please do not lose hope. Please do not be afraid. We are stronger than we know. Never listen to those who tell you that you will never walk again, never speak nor write again, never advocate for change again. You can. You must. Help us!
annarino writes 
CONFIRMATION SLAP
There was one day each year our Catholic parish could expect the Bishop to visit. Every year the children in the fourth grade, age 10 or so, made their Confirmation of Faith. We studied the tenets of our faith so we would understand more fully what it would mean to be confirmed. This was critical because the one thing that sank in was the idea that we would not only promise to live our faith, fully and with integrity; we would pledge to be willing to die for our faith, as many of the Catholic saints had done over the centuries. In fact, we chose a name for ourselves of a saint who inspired us to live our faith as fully as they. I chose Bernadette, a young girl unable to be shaken from her spiritual experiences, despite opposition even from church leaders. She was open to the unexpected, unexplainable mysteries of her faith; courageous and persistent, resilient and humble. She could face down any opposition to live her faith experience.
We had learned through study and life experience that others opposed our beliefs, and especially, our assumed authority to represent Jesus Christ’s teaching . We saw our priests, and even ourselves, as part of the line of succession from Peter the Apostle. A lot of wrongdoing and audacity occurred in between Peter’s time and mine. We were taught to acknowledge errors, correct them and move on. A daily examination of conscience and frequent confession kept us on track.
As a very short child, I led the procession into church. The Bishop asked us a few questions ascertaining that we understood what we were about to promise. I was the first to be confirmed, kneeling at the altar rail, shaking like a leaf, praying for courage. The Bishop spoke the words reminding me that my faith required a willingness to die for Christ. I responded that I would. The Bishop then struck my cheek with a blow so hard those in the back pews could hear the slap, my head snapping to the side. The Bishop looked horrified. I could feel the sting of his hand. I was reminded alright!
After the service ended, we processed from our pews to the rear of the church, the Bishop and altar servers before us. The Bishop waited for me at the door and joined my parents and family as we stood on the church steps. His handprint was still visible on my cheek. He humbly apologized to me and to my parents. Since I was the first child he had underestimated the strength of his blow, and was mortified. I had never expected to see a mortified bishop. It made my heart open to him as human being, no longer an authority figure. Those moments of my confirmation remain with me, 67 years later, as if they happened yesterday. Over the years I had need of the lessons learned that day.
I learned that faith is not a mind-game, nor a mere consideration. It is a calling to act with integrity, love and compassion. It requires the willingness to suffer for others; to learn them, see them, hear them even when I had to “suffer through” them. I suffered through those I did not like nor respect, as well as those I respected and loved. I learned that those in authority held no power over me unless I gave it to them. I could have withheld respect and forgiveness to a bishop who hit me so hard it hurt. I chose to forgive him and accept his unintended harm. However, I never shirk from showing those in authority the harm they do. It is probably one reason I became a lawyer. I experienced justice that day. Too many in our America do not. It is those we must be willing to die for. Our faith requires it.
I listened to two Catholics, Senator Bernie Moreno from my state of Ohio and Vice-President J.D. Vance defend and protect the President Trump’s unlawful war, threats of genocide, and destructive blasphemy the past few days. They were confirmed. Do they not recall their vow to defend and protect our faith and our church as they attack our Pope? Do they not understand integrity and morality? What did they promise as they affirmed their Catholicism when confirmed? I am not truly surprised because they also seem to have forgotten their vow to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States and Ohio, and the laws of both when they sworn into office as senators and then, Vance, as Vice-President.
These are not men of conviction willing to suffer for their faith. They are not humble. They lack integrity. They lie. They attack when they should defend… not just the Pope but human beings in Gaza, Iran, Minneapolis, and every city and hamlet in America. They attack instead of defend our people of color, LGBQT and transgender citizens, our women and children, our elderly and disabled, our working poor, our refugees and immigrants. They would suppress votes of students, women, the working poor, the elderly and disabled and brazenly support the provisions in the SAVE act suppressing our votes. All the while they pretend to protect us and our vote. They stay silent while our military is used to perform war crimes, and while our country’s leaders threaten to annihilate others in violation of the Geneva Convention and human rights.
The attack on a Catholic Pope is just part of the plan to replace loving faith and care for others preached by Jesus Christ on his Sermon on the Mount with power and control over others fed by greed and arrogance. It was easy to abuse the weakest among us. Now, they openly abuse a powerful church leader preaching Jesus Christ’s teachings. Of course, Trump posted an AI construction of himself as Jesus Christ. Of course Vance and Moreno, and other republicans think it is meaningless, a joke. The explanation is as great a lie. It has meaning. It is meant to promote abuse and control at the expense of others. These men were not slapped hard enough when they were confirmed as Catholics. They are not willing to suffer any political nor financial loss to help others. As a Catholic, I hold them accountable and ask them to recall their vows; to their church and to the American people.
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