As the first female attorney to advise the white males controlling the institution I worked for I understood the underlying hostility that colored every conversation. I sensed the fear of most of those men, fear of a female with power. At one meeting with 3 levels of administrative authority needing my legal advice regarding a personnel matter, I summed up the position our institution faced and explained the necessary actions needed to avoid liability. I asked if they understood and they nodded “yes.” I picked up my file and prepared to leave, raising from the long table around which we all sat with the words, “I shall leave you to it, then.”
One man directly across from me sneered and said with derision, “You’re a cold bitch, aren’t you!” I paused, slammed down my file folder and leaned into his angry face and replied, “Yes, and I worked damned hard to get this way.” I smiled “good-bye, gentlemen” and left as a single man applauded me, to my surprise.
I have been called a communist, a pinko, a flower-child, a “n” lover, a socialist, a racist, a bitch, and worse (use your imagination or locker room references) since my late teens while I sat-in, went on hunger strikes, marched and protested racism, war, sexism, ageism, homophobia, classism, unfair tax relief for corporations and unearned wealth, privatization of hospitals-schools-infrastructure-roadways-anything originally financed by laborers’ taxation and turned over to privateers. I watched this agenda progress in the name of conservatism (talk about turning truth on its head)to utility grids, farms and farmers, schools, universities, the internet and other technology, our immigration system…even NASA.
I learned that calling me names was a projection meant to distract others from the goals of the Republican Party on the rebound after Nixonian corruption was exposed. Nothing new really. Ask the Native Americans and those enslaved by greedy Americans whose self-interest always overcomes the common good. Call me any name you want. I welcome it. Bullies always go a step too far and say too much when we stand up to them. They look and sound like the fools they are. Be proud of the names you are called. You are getting our nation’s true enemies and worst game-players to show their hand.
“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” – Winston Churchill
Photo by Nicolas Panetta on Pexels.com To deter a young skunk roaming my yard at night, looking for new den and intimidating and spraying tiny dog of my neighbor, I placed twinkling multi-colored solar lights low across the border of her fences, my patio and my garden beds and my yard perimeter, pulsing at variable rates. Since then, no rabbits, skunks, or racoons have been chomping on my plants. The dog is safe when my neighbor lets him out to do his business. It is Christmas in our backyards until the unwanted critters return to their dens.November cannot come soon enough.
The pulse of life beats strong,
beset by all that is wrong.
Animals prey in the yard at night,
entering as we lose the light,
to eat the crops and uproot the flowers,
creating destruction hour by hour.
Every effort seems for naught.
Undermining all we’ve been taught.
No respect for decades of effort
to create a safe space for all who enter,
a space free of willfulness, woes and want;
a space where diversity and beauty abound,
where seeds breed and reseed in dark ground
so readily that we forget the dangers around
every corner, and under every rock.
It is imperative to finally take stock.
To pay attention to those lurking in the dark.
To those who would steal our garden’s wealth
with deceit, lies and stealth.
Single spotlights, motion sensors for lights,
individual porch lights and flashlights
have not been enough to stop the raccoons and skunks.
The unseen predators who hide beneath
that which bloomed from our labors,
until we finally notice what has been lost.
We cannot count the cost
although we desperately try.
Our pulse beats strong as we cry.
I think we have found a solution
to the critters who invade like pollution,
unsightly, unseen, willingly mean.
Faerie lights of all colors with patternless pulse
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.
BE NOT AFRAID
As the first female attorney to advise the white males controlling the institution I worked for I understood the underlying hostility that colored every conversation. I sensed the fear of most of those men, fear of a female with power. At one meeting with 3 levels of administrative authority needing my legal advice regarding a personnel matter, I summed up the position our institution faced and explained the necessary actions needed to avoid liability. I asked if they understood and they nodded “yes.” I picked up my file and prepared to leave, raising from the long table around which we all sat with the words, “I shall leave you to it, then.”
One man directly across from me sneered and said with derision, “You’re a cold bitch, aren’t you!” I paused, slammed down my file folder and leaned into his angry face and replied, “Yes, and I worked damned hard to get this way.” I smiled “good-bye, gentlemen” and left as a single man applauded me, to my surprise.
I have been called a communist, a pinko, a flower-child, a “n” lover, a socialist, a racist, a bitch, and worse (use your imagination or locker room references) since my late teens while I sat-in, went on hunger strikes, marched and protested racism, war, sexism, ageism, homophobia, classism, unfair tax relief for corporations and unearned wealth, privatization of hospitals-schools-infrastructure-roadways-anything originally financed by laborers’ taxation and turned over to privateers. I watched this agenda progress in the name of conservatism (talk about turning truth on its head)to utility grids, farms and farmers, schools, universities, the internet and other technology, our immigration system…even NASA.
I learned that calling me names was a projection meant to distract others from the goals of the Republican Party on the rebound after Nixonian corruption was exposed. Nothing new really. Ask the Native Americans and those enslaved by greedy Americans whose self-interest always overcomes the common good. Call me any name you want. I welcome it. Bullies always go a step too far and say too much when we stand up to them. They look and sound like the fools they are. Be proud of the names you are called. You are getting our nation’s true enemies and worst game-players to show their hand.
“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” – Winston Churchill
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