Isn’t it so crazy that we can find grace for others, and yet, talk so maliciously to ourselves when we’ve messed up? We may know that making mistakes is part of the learning process, but what is the first thing we say to ourselves when we make one? If you are like me, it might be “Ugh, I’m so stupid!” Lately, I’ve been more attuned to this and I’m trying to change the way I think and talk about myself.
A huge reason I am more aware of my self-talk is because I’ve learned that when I cheer myself on at the gym, I can go farther and burn more calories. I push myself and meet goals. This is no small thing as just the thought of going to the gym used to bring up only fear and self-doubt. One day when I was jogging (after committing to a monthly goal of going to my local gym) on the treadmill, I started telling myself that I was proud of getting over my fear, that I was proud that I was making a real, life change, and I was proud of myself for deciding to put in the work. That was the first day exercise felt enjoyable, and it kept me going back. Deciding to be kind to myself has also helped me to love myself for exactly who I am in this moment. There was an epiphany that if I couldn’t love myself as a plus-size woman that even if I ever reached a goal of being a smaller size, I wouldn’t know how to love myself and I’d never be satisfied with how I looked or felt.
Another reason for positive, self-talk is the message I’m sending and teaching my kids. They are soaking up everything I do and say. When I hear them say they are stupid, after getting something wrong, I know exactly where they learned that. Teaching them to appreciate the mistakes they make along the journey is one thing, but when they see me being a hypocrite, they pick up on that more than anything I’ve said. It was easier teaching others’ children to have positive, self-talk because my students didn’t see me like my own kids do. As their mother, it hurts me when my kids say ugly things to themselves. When I look at each of them, I see beautiful beings with so much potential. I want them to see that too, so it’s time to make a change. And…it’s working. Last week, my son described why he was proud of himself. He used the word proud and asked me if I understood that he wasn’t bragging, but he felt good for his accomplishment. I told him I knew exactly what he meant and I was proud of him, too.
A couple of months ago, I mentioned this to a friend and she invited me to a group she created on Facebook that is about being kind to ourselves. Not only have I made new friends and have a support system, but I’m learning so much from them. We discuss healthy boundaries, things we are grateful for, and celebrate our growth. When we are finding it hard to be kind to ourselves, we reach out and are lifted up. It’s absolutely amazing and has helped me tremendously in my self-care journey.
Why do we find it so hard to love ourselves? Why do we go overboard to help others and put ourselves last? Why can we see beauty in others and not ourselves? If you ever ask yourself any of these questions, I encourage you to look in the mirror and try and see what others see. Stop zeroing in on your acne. Stop looking at your stretch-marks or any curves you find disgusting. In fact, remove some of those ugly words like disgusting, right now. I knew something amazing was happening inside when I first saw myself as beautiful and told my reflection so. I saw a woman who birthed five, wonderful humans. Those stretch-marks are beautiful in their meaning. I don’t want a flat belly. I’ll work for a healthier body, but I don’t want to erase who I am to reach some image of beauty that was never meant for me.
Our paths look differently. It’s not always about body shape or physical health, but many times, taking care of ourselves is offering ourselves the olive branch we naturally extend to others. We’ve done some stupid things, made errors in judgement, and if you are like me there is a list of things you truly would go back and do over with the knowledge you have now (but thank goodness we can’t). One way to show love to ourselves is to talk kindly to that person in the mirror. Speaking ugly about her doesn’t encourage her to reach for anything but instead find another way to avoid taking care of herself. But finding one thing to love about her will definitely fuel your desire to find another good thing and another…until your inner dialogue has been transformed.
You’re worth the kindness. You are worth the love. You may even find that your love for others grows more deeply and that when you stop judging yourself so harshly, it’s even more natural to accept others, too. It’s a pretty awesome cycle, don’t you think? It’s free, but it’s costly if we never make that decision. The way we show kindness to ourselves can help our mental, physical, and spiritual states. The opposite is also true and can exacerbate illness and stress levels.
You are worth the self-kindness, my friend. And honestly, your whole self is ready for this change, too. Best wishes in learning to love yourself and it starts with how you talk to yourself.
I don’t always do a great job of having conversations on social media about race. Many times it’s because my emotions get in the way. But one thing I do well is sharing my experiences as I learn. It’s important to me because I am an ally for my Friends of Color and Students of Color. My world is better for the color they bring to it. Growing up the word “color blind” was popular. It meant we don’t see anyone’s color because we are all equal. It means we don’t judge people because they are a different color. And it also encouraged us not to talk about color.
But you see, if we don’t talk about color, which is very uncomfortable most times, we will never understand how our Friends of Color have very different perspectives on our American history. We will never understand that people are alive today who were born into segregation, and that we still have so much work to do to ensure that walls and barriers come down so we are truly equal in this dream that started in 1776.
Sometimes the most defensive of us are the ones who think we are part of the solution of helping unify us all. I’ll take a defensive white person over someone who refuses to acknowledge problems, any day. I know that I have been unfollowed or unfriended by a large portion of people in my life for the views I have, and I’m okay with that. I used to do this too when I was afraid of the truth or when I felt largely uncomfortable with the truth because I did not know how to stop feeling guilty for the generations before me. I did not understand that I was actually perpetuating racism myself by staying ignorant, or choosing not to reflect on my thought processes of bias and prejudice. In some ways, I’m reaping what I sowed, too.
Tonight, I’m trying to educate myself more on “structural racism” and how that has impacted everything in the daily lives for People of Color. It literally bleeds into our education system, our housing systems, prison systems, voting systems, and that’s just the part I understand.
So maybe learn with me. Let’s have some dialogue that looks at information as a seeker of truth rather than a defender of our current, failing systems. I have lots of passionate friends who truly want to be change makers, and I think we can definitely be just that. Together.
That morning I woke up and took a pregnancy test. Positive. I could feel my heart pounding in my brain. Anger. Fear. How could this have happened during such a horrible time in life? Why God?! We were not doing well financially and because of that, along with already having four young children to parent, there was a terrible strain on our marriage. Why NOW, God? Something else I noticed was blood. Was that normal? I should already know since I have four kids, but I Google it anyway. It can be normal but I also search signs of miscarriage. Chances increase with age of 35 years and older, too much caffeine intake, obesity… and all the other signs, everything checked off for me. Well, no time to dwell on it, it was time to give the STAAR test to my fifth graders. Can’t call in, just go to work, there will be plenty to take my mind off everything. Refill my coffee cup and get into my car.
The bleeding, though. Hmmm. I consult with a school nurse and tell her everything. She says if I start cramping and bleeding more heavily, we’ll know it’s a miscarriage. I proctor test, walk around the classroom all morning long. The cramps come and by lunch time, I’m miserable and bleeding heavily.
I go home to have a miscarriage. It feels surreal. My head is pounding, my heart is aching, I’m anxious and physically ill, but my body knows what to do. I call my midwife, Robin, and she lets me know what to expect and all I can do is wait. Finally, I pass a life, a very little life. And in that instant my entire life changes.
No one who knows me would describe me as a quiet person, but in those next few days, a new Melody emerged. She didn’t know how to express what just happened. She cried a lot at home, but performed at work. Then she stopped crying because there was only numbness. When someone asked me how I was, it was jarring. I couldn’t just tell them, “I just had a miscarriage, I’m super lost, and I didn’t even want to be pregnant, but I had no idea it would hurt this badly in my heart or body.” You don’t tell people that. So I didn’t.
Like many others who have gone through miscarriage, and it is quite common, it triggered depression. So much guilt. Anger and alienation. No matter that my family tried to explain to me that it wasn’t my fault, there was nothing they could say to convince me otherwise.
For the first time in my life, I thought about Heaven quite differently. Did I really have a baby? Would he or she be up there waiting for me one day like I had told so many others who had suffered through this painful journey before me? I reflected on this for a long time. There was a point where the guilty part of me demanded to snap out of this, how could I be sad when I didn’t even want that baby? Honestly, there was no relief in losing this life. Did God still think it was precious? Did He think I was? How could I feel so far removed from Him when I needed Him the most? When I think of that year, I think of a black hole and feeling swallowed by the enormity of it. The enormity of life going on around me and feeling unable to engage fully.
But that’s not how my story ends. There came a time of forgiveness. There came a time of allowing myself all the tears that felt bottled over the passage of time. One of the first times I shared my story, someone rudely asked how I could even allow myself to be pregnant again when I already had four children. That was the comment I was most afraid of and when it finally arrived, it stung, but by then, I was craving the light and decided to let it go.
Life definitely looked differently to me. During the weekend of the year anniversary of my miscarriage, I found out I was pregnant again. So much amazement. So much love. So much fear. Life felt too fragile. Would it happen again? We thought it might. That pregnancy would be one filled with prayerful requests of faith to help me fight the fear that was constantly threatening to steal the joy.
There came a point at the very end of my pregnancy with my last child, when we could not detect any movement or a heartbeat. I felt paralyzed in fear, but the prayers from my heart poured out, “Please, God, I do not want to lose him. But God if I have to lose him, I know You will be with me every moment through this.” I also knew in those moments that our lives were precious to Him. Robin, my midwife, was scared too but she didn’t tell me that until after we found a heartbeat an hour later (after I downed juice and was hooked up to a special monitor). Since I had my baby not too many days later, he could have just been getting into position ready to come. In fact, Robin was so kind and thoughtful throughout my entire pregnancy. She would let me see him every at every check up. I had shared with her my fears the entire pregnancy that I was afraid I would lose this baby, too. She understood. Her strength and wisdom really made a difference.
While I would never wish this kind of pain on anyone, there came a time when I realized I was a better human for going through it all. Allowing the darkness to swallow me for a time actually gave me a new perspective on the light. When life reveals that rare moment of utter beauty, my heart begs me to soak it all in and live in that moment. When we took our first family vacation to the shores of Alabama last year, I breathed it all in. Fear tried to steal those precious moments of joy, reminding me that the shoe could drop on the other side, but I knew that no matter what came next in life, we had this moment. Those memories are cherished more, now.
Something else I learned was to listen more. We don’t experience loss the same, but one thing is to listen to those mourning. We don’t need to have all the answers or even the right words. Sometimes words are just wasted breath anyway. Thoughtful gestures by friends who cared were important. They let me know I was supported even if I didn’t have the words. With them, words weren’t necessary.
My faith is stronger now that I’ve experienced a bit of hell. We always hear that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. That is not true for everyone. There are some who choose bitterness. I am definitely a stronger person for going through tragedy, but I’ve also learned it’s not strength I’d have ever been able reach on my own. Leaning on grace, mercy, and forgiveness is supernatural and beyond anything I could do for myself. I had to choose to lean into it and not avoid the pain anymore.
Time has passed and the pain doesn’t choke me up every time I think about my miscarriage. But I will never forget my baby. Every time I think of the gap between Lizzie and Whit, I think of my Baby. Every time someone asks me how many kids I have, in my heart, I answer six. I can imagine my Baby meeting my Dad when he left this earth for Heaven, too. While this isn’t a club I would have chosen to belong to, I belong to it anyway. I cherish the ways it has changed me into the woman, mother, wife, and educator I am today.
Do you ever feel completely out of your depth? Out on a limb? In over your head? I do all the time. In fact, when I returned to full time teaching in 2015, after a three year absence of staying home with my children, TobyMac’s song Beyond Me was my anthem.
Returning to work was necessary and the right thing to do, though very challenging at the time. We had to find in-home childcare for three of our four children (ages almost one year, two years, and four years old) and that was not an easy task. One of our vehicles bit the dust the day before my first day back and we did not have the finances to fix it. But still, I knew returning to teaching was the right thing. It wasn’t easy emotionally or physically to leave my babies. The fear of returning to a job I never dreamed I’d return to was REAL. On top of those issues, my dreams of staying at home and home schooling my kiddos had to bite the dust. Also, upon returning, I realized I was way behind in technology! It felt like too much, just too hard to deal with. Do you know what I mean?
The problems we faced did not go away because I returned to work, but it definitely helped, and we got to keep our beautiful home, so there’s that. In fact, the year of 2015-2016 truly sucked in so many ways. I admit that because maybe you are reading this and your current year is sucking, too. I feel that.
Through the suck, we did find for all of our problems, there were solutions. We found care, we bought a used car with my first paycheck, we kept our home, and I learned all I could about education technology. Not finding solutions wasn’t even conceivable, right? When lives are in your care, their importance fuels you to go on even when you feel like the circumstances are too hard to conquer. My children and students were important enough to me to strike out and find a way.
This is where you insert your faith, a good playlist, ask for help, and do whatever you have to do to find a way. It doesn’t mean problems disappear, but it does mean you’ll find new opportunities and new dreams await you when you forgive that the life you thought you would lead is no longer going to run in that direction. There is a lot of grace and forgiveness in that waiting area.
Currently, I still feel like I live outta my league. But now I see it as a good thing. I’m so extremely blessed to live this life and the sucky days brought forth many rainbows personally and professionally. Embracing challenges and opportunities is something I wish for all of my friends, colleagues, and family. When you decide to face your battles, the growth that sets in your mind and body will take you places, man! Embracing adversity is one way to get to the next level. We were never going to live easy lives. The curve balls will never stop being thrown in our direction, but we don’t have to fear them, either. I know that even if I strike out, there’s still a chance I won’t. Like my brother told me years ago, “Melody, if it’s there, swing!” Striking out doesn’t feel as scary as not swinging at all. Now that I’m living beyond me, the new challenges we face feel like more promises of something greater than previously experienced. Sure there are crappy days, but also new joy waiting around the corner! Do you feel it?
Today, I celebrate the new! New dreams! New directions! New friends! New places! And even new problems! This is what life is about. I’m so glad you are in this race with me.
Today I write from two perspectives, well maybe three. I write as a teacher who has helped many students fill gaps in their learning of mathematics, as a parent who has watched her own children struggle, and now as a home educator using all I know to help fill gaps for my children. The struggle is real. As a public school educator responsible for teaching state standards, I realize how quickly the pace truly is in many of our schools. Teachers are slammed with data comparing their students with others and many times are made to feel like losers themselves. While there have to be math teachers out there rocking it, there are also math teachers struggling. We may find ourselves in both categories. But without a doubt, every year I taught fifth grade, my classroom was filled with more students lacking foundational math skills than not, and we can’t hope for growth unless we slow it down and address it.
Truthfully, I had my own personal struggles learning math as a child. My pace of learning math was much slower than my peers. There were teachers who were willing to help me in my primary grades which is why I never quit, but I missed out on recess for scoring low and was the victim of a teacher trying to reteach subtraction the same way over and over even though the method made zero sense to my six year old brain. But in high school, when the instruction felt completely foreign, I’d quit trying to learn and my anxious thoughts took over. My self talk was very negative and if it wasn’t for peers who understood, I wouldn’t have continued to try.
Ultimately, I did not want to be a math failure. I truly wanted to understand and succeed academically. One thing I started to do for myself was to continue taking notes and put question marks even when instruction ceased making sense. So when my friend would reteach a lesson to me after school, we would go back to those specific questions that were marked. This saved me! I stopped shutting down during instruction, took responsibility for my learning, and learned how to ask specific questions to find connections that were missing in my mind. These are ideas I’ve always tried to teach my students, too.
Teaching fifth grade math for years, most of my students came to me lacking foundational skills. However, learning to see natural signs of avoidance and discomfort was second nature. Math anxiety is real. Seeing students shut down immediately while transitioning to math was something I always looked for and talked about. Over the years, students told me my math instruction was the first time they understood place value or multiplication or long division. But I can honestly tell you that to get those students to that point, there were bouts of panic, tears, and anxiety to overcome.
Now I’m seeing it first hand with my children as they learn math, too. But my oldest child, now in fifth grade, is why I want to address this today. She has always been a strong student but started exhibiting behaviors of avoidance last year in the fourth grade. Her behaviors stemmed from not understanding and often led to her being in trouble. At the time, I thought she was being rebellious, but now as we re-enter into those math skills, her anxiety rears itself in the form of angry outbursts, tears, and stomach pain. To counteract this, I reassure her it’s okay if she uses her fingers (I’m 38 and still do sometimes), I remind her it’s okay to make mistakes, and more than anything, there is no hurry. She is safe with me. She doesn’t have to worry about not knowing the answers all the time, making mistakes is a natural way of learning, and I’m right next to her to help when she is facing confusion and self-doubt.
My teaching career has shown me that the longer our students face an inability to form necessary connections in their math foundation, the more anxious they feel and will be less likely to ask questions. Their behavior can become erratic and they will do anything they can to avoid math. If not addressed by us as their teachers, the less likely we will help them grow in their gaps while they are our students.
When we see struggling students, there are things we can do immediately to help lessen our students’ anxiety:
Teach them how to breathe through their anxiety and let them close their books or notebooks.
Go over examples explicitly and don’t rely on things they “should already know.” Show them how to write this in their notes, too.
Let them use their fingers! Eventually they will pick up patterns and not need to (or maybe they always will) but if they need their fingers, let them use them! What is the big deal about using fingers, anyway?
Remind them that making mistakes is okay. The process is more important.
Rely on small group instruction and even individual instruction when necessary.
Review, review, review before going on!
Model making connections during instruction.
Use real talk with your students. Acknowledging that I struggled and found a way through it has helped many of my students throughout the years.
Today, I helped my own child in place value and using algebraic skills. I talked her down from the ledge of anxiety and frustration. Because she didn’t quit, she gained in grit. I stayed close by at first and then walked away so she could do more on her own and learn a process after showing her some examples. It was amazing to watch as she pulled out her math notebook (that she started on her own) and begin writing down what she knew she would forget. I helped her mark some areas with more explicit examples so she could return later and truly understand.
The process started out a little painful. She lashed out more because she’s in the comfort of her own home. Admittedly, I used a few choice words before reigning in and realizing she was acting out from anxiety. Math instruction can look messy and we talked about that. She was able to voice her frustrations from previous years and her mom teacher just listened without judgement. We won today and developed more perseverance. That’s a win for #MathMonday!
What do you do to help your students or children gain in math through their anxiety? Let’s continue the discussion!
Here is a little story my daughter and I put together using the Book Creator App! Enjoy!
This past August was my first round of #OneMonthGoals. Read here for how I stumbled upon Michael Matera, Educator and Author of Explore Like a Pirate, and his encouragement to join his movement one month at a time! His goal was different than mine, and others who gave it a go had their own goals. It has been refreshing to see other people doing things we’ve been sitting on for too long. We finally put in the action required!
The discoveries I made this month are priceless. The lessons on real self care will stay with me forever and continue to help me grow. The encouragement of people supporting me was awesome. Thank YOU for joining me this first month and I hope you will be encouraged to start your own journey, too.
My initial goal for August was to spend 30-35 minutes, three times a week, at the local gym that my husband and I pay a pretty chunk to every month. That meant that I had to get over myself and come to terms with my insecurities. It meant that I had to be purposeful about how I spent my time and make sure I was scheduling time for myself, which as a mom of five, is a challenge all on its own. There are women in my life who have made their health priorities and to those women, I applaud you! Your examples mean so much and watching you has encouraged me more than you could know!
Benefits of starting my #OneMonthGoals journey:
I surpassed my goal of 30-35 minutes! By week two, I enjoyed my workout so much that they have lasted at least one hour.
Found out how incredible it feels to challenge myself physically and feel good about it within.
Feel more comfortable in the gym setting and know more about some of the machines.
I’ve become my number one cheerleader. I learned early on that the guilt and negative self-talk would not get me anywhere. So, I just started using positive talk, like I would my friend, and it pushed me beyond what I thought I could do. Even now, my mindset has shifted and my thoughts towards myself are that of a healthier-minded person! This is transformative!
I finally understand what self care really looks like. It’s not giving in to every guilty pleasure. It’s doing what’s best for me even when I don’t feel like it. It’s carving time for myself to do what I need to do. It’s allowing myself the grace I’d give to anyone else, and understanding that even when I fail or fall behind, I’m not a loser. Self care is surrounding myself with supportive people and being supportive of others who have goals.
I’m going to keep working on #OneMonthGoals because it has helped me stay accountable and encouraged. My September goal is to try one new thing at the gym that I’ve been too scared to do for a myriad of reasons. I know I want to play basketball, do a water aerobics class, and who knows what else! I believe by the end of the month, I’ll be more brave and fit. It’s exciting to think about!
Another benefit of completing my #OneMonthGoals is showing myself that I can finish something that seemed too hard in the past. I enjoy exercising! My kids are seeing me take care of my health and that is something that will speak to them as they grow up. Jogging on a treadmill with a smile on my face is not someone I thought I’d be, but here we are, folks. I predict by August of 2020, my reflection on this past year will be one of tremendous pride, growth, and gratitude that I’ve only had a taste of so far!
It’s not too late to join me! What will your #OneMonthGoals look like?
The more things change, the more they stay the same is illustrated by a young man’s social media posts on FaceBook. Monty Kane is an actor who is using his talent of recreation to educate his audience that though our country has made major strides for equality, we still have much work to do. If you follow his #VintageAugust posts, you will see how history continues to repeat itself through systemic racism. You can feel his passion as he recreates for #VintageAugust. He’s not just trying to make a name for himself, he’s celebrating the men who came before him so he is able to do what he is doing now. #VintageAugust is recreative art through pictures of men who lived through slavery, segregation, Jim Crow, and the Civil Rights Movement. He said he likes to weave history in the present to show the similarities. He’s had mostly positive feedback, but wise beyond his years, feels that for those who don’t understand, it’s because they had a whole lifetime of growing up learning something different. He is not trying to change people’s minds, he just wants to celebrate the history that paved the way for him. For anyone who cares about humanity, #VintageAugust is not easy to see and read, but he is hoping the discomfort we feel will push us to see life in our century from the lens of a Person Of Color. What you do with this information is up to you, but he’s bravely and vulnerably allowing his art to be a catalyst of transformation.
As a teacher, it thrills me to read someone’s writing and research as he explains why he chose the recreation and tells about the time in history. That’s why I asked and he agreed to have a Skype interview! Though I am almost two decades older than Monty, I am learning so much through this process. His #VintageAugust clearly makes the case that we need more than a month of Black History and Black History is not just for Black People. The history he showcases is a history meaningful to us all.
When talking about systemic racism, the argument “that was a long time ago” is often used to excuse ourselves as white people from responsibility of creating necessary change. But Monty’s own life reflects that our public systems, especially our schools, are still very oppressive for People Of Color (POC) as he recalls his public school education that took place in the 2000s. Growing up in urban Milwaukee, Wisconsin, he had a positive and strong upbringing by his mother and Grammen. Grammen is the name he gave his grandmother when he was a youngster and could not say “Grand One” clearly. He said they really didn’t have much but he felt like he had everything because of the love poured out on himself and siblings.
But his schooling? Not so bright. When we discussed the challenges Monty faced as a young person, he said it was a lack of resources. In high school, he transferred to a charter school and there were 8-10 students per class as opposed to the 30-40 students per class at his public school. That’s when he realized there were other schools with smaller classes, library databases, and caring adults who could help students figure out college, which became a possibility as learning came to life after he transferred to his new school. He really got into his education, even though math was difficult for him and he realized he was considerably behind from not gaining skills his entire k-8 grades. He had a lot of catching up to do! BUT he did. And the math teacher that helped him, Tom Mlynarek, is his friend to this day. He described that in public school he was falling through the cracks, and whether he was doing his work or not, he wasn’t learning much and no one seemed to care. But at his new high school, it was opposite. Again, as an educator, this means so much to hear from a young person’s perspective. This highlights the lack of equitable experiences for many living in urban areas and the desperate need for a systematic overhaul so all children have the tools necessary to succeed in life. Although Monty was able to leave a failing system, thousands of other students were not. He said he was not aware of the lack of resources until he attended a school that was able to support his learning needs in the ways it counts for young people!
It was probably through a hashtag during Black History Month over a year ago that I first came across Monty’s work on Facebook. Have you ever met someone and just knew they were destined for great things? Well, that’s how I would describe my friend, Monty Kane. At the time he was a college student, but as of May 2019, he is a graduate of Cardinal Stritch University. I celebrated this milestone along with him through social media.
Before this August, I’ve watched him recreate scenes from the show Martin and laughed because he nails him every time. I’ve watched him sing, laugh, and act realizing I’m watching a young star come up! The more he put out there for us, the more I wanted to know the story of Monty’s life. And while listening to him describe it, I see how he has defeated every stereotype thrown at him. Though he grew up with a single mom, she was not weak, nor was his grandmother. He had everything he needed. He did not choose a gangster lifestyle, and has kept away from drugs, including alcohol. He thrived in school and learning about African American culture was among his favorite studies. He’s faced setbacks and learned from them. He appreciates the Men and Women Of Color who came before him.
Monty says he has always loved acting. His first gig was as an infant, starring as Baby Jesus! By age five, he knew acting was for him. He acted in community theater and used it to help give back to his hometown. They would collect hygiene items or canned goods for the homeless in lieu of selling tickets. After high school, he studied at a culinary school because he thought that was a safer path and he was good at cooking. He didn’t share with everyone that he really wanted to go into acting, but the same week he left culinary school, someone shared with him about Cardinal Stritch University and how their theater arts program was amazing. He wants to share that it’s good to have a plan B, but don’t have a plan B until you wear out Plan A. Plan A was acting and he realized that there wasn’t going to be joy in his life unless he pursued his passions. So as a young man, his love of acting plus giving back to his community has been his drive.
The more he spoke in our interview, the more I could see the legacy of his Grammen and Mother living right on through everything he has done in and with his life. As a public school educator, I know hundreds of young people. I can tell you that he stands out as a young man fiercely determined to see his dreams come to light. His talent is beyond the superficial. He is already a role model for people of all ages. Our country needs the kind of strength emanating from his art. It will bring forth much needed change if we allow ourselves to grow through the discomfort. Our young people still need for us to fight for equitable resources and opportunities in education. History curriculum needs to embrace our minority heroes who helped build this country up to the amazing nation it is today so our students see themselves as part of a living history and continue the work. Resources, smaller classes, and counselors helping students visualize a productive future with their talents is priceless and necessary. Monty Kane, through his life and art of recreation, is proof we all need to be putting in the work to fight and change the oppressive systems that still exist.
Something amazing has happened as I’ve pursued my #OneMonthGoals of using my gym membership at least three times a week for 30-35 minutes each: I finally understand the value of self care! I’ve been reading about it and asking others about their self care goals, but very rarely giving my own serious consideration. And to be honest, I think my idea of self care was more along the lines of self-indulgence more than caring for my body.
But yesterday, as I was pushing myself on the treadmill to go the full hour and get in three miles before my time was up, there was so much happening inside my mind:
I was using positive self-talk! I was cheering myself on, letting me know that I was proud of the work I was putting in. I let myself know that it was okay to push away the negative talk as it came and just be in this moment. I was my own cheerleader.
I realized that I NEED this time. Yes, it is a privilege that we have a gym membership. It’s a privilege that I’m not working full time outside my home and this year I can take time to work on my health because along with our membership, my kids are also busy playing and exercising–away from me! 90 minutes to focus on my health and get fit feels dang good for all of us!
I am not worried about weighing in. I have flunked so many diets and began and quit them throughout my life and one thing that discouraged me was getting on the scale. I would not eat before weighing in or I would cancel out anything good when the scale did not reflect what I hoped it would. These last couple of weeks, I’m focused on transformation. I’ve learned that the change I want in my life comes with putting in hard work and keeping it going. The weight will eventually come off if I commit to being active, but that $%$% scale has no hold on my mentality!
I enjoy sweating my butt off! My thoughts are clear and my determination to love my body as it is today is something I’ve struggled to embrace for a very long time. Even when I’m not at the gym, I’m moving more at home or wherever I am.
Buying some cute workout clothes, another privilege, has made it more fun, too. I chose outfits that were comfortable and inspiring, AND my pants also hold my phone so I can enjoy my favorite music uninterrupted. I always give glory to my Father in Heaven for all good things in my life and this is no exception. Staying accountable to my friend who put this challenge out there, Michael Matera, is also part of my success. As I’ve posted my #OneMonthGoals on Facebook, I’ve enjoyed all the encouragement from my friends! THANK YOU for supporting me! It really does mean a lot.
I’m a large woman. Going to the gym has never been easy for me. I can’t afford weight loss surgery and honestly, I’m afraid if I go that route, I’d still return to old habits that have kept me unhealthy. It would be incredible if this inspired another person to take action using small steps!
So along those lines…. What will your #OneMonthGoals be?
In early July, Ryan Murphy (known in his circle as Murphy), husband of Kelly, and father of three, put a Facebook shoutout for anyone who wanted to accompany him to the McAllen border for a missions trip to be of service for the migrants being detained there. All summer long you have probably seen many mission trip photos from countries all over the world, but this mission was different. This one was intended to be in our home country, and as a resident of Texas, practically his backyard. My only claim as Murphy’s friend is pretty loose. We are friends of friends, joined together because we love Jesus more than our politics, and we want to show what it means to live that kind of faith out loud.
He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. Deuteronomy 10:18
So when Murphy put his call out, it was already on my heart to find a way to truly touch the lives of migrant children and adults at our southern borders. I had been praying for a way to really help another human, more than giving money to immigration lawyers, although giving to RAICES is very helpful. I was hoping it meant I could join his group and travel to McAllen, TX, but that just wasn’t in the cards for me right now. Murphy gave me information about the trip and said he would fill me in on everything and we both hoped this would lead to more trips to the border. He was glad to fill me in on his plans, and I felt compelled within my spirit to give financially, though he did not ask that of me, and I entrusted him to use the funds for however it needed to be used the most. He left July 21st and returned July 25th with two of his friends, Ryan Uran and Vanessa Trevino, both whom are bilingual, which made genuine communication with the people they wanted to serve, possible.
After the trip was over, Murphy called me and filled me in on the entire trip! We talked for almost an hour about how the events they experienced unfolded. There is so much going on at the border, that while I touch on, I would have to study the law intensely before giving an accurate account. But there is one story that we want to share with you: the story of one man,*Pedro, and his daughter *Julia, from Honduras (names have been changed to protect their identities). Anyone could easily discount this duo as lawbreakers, illegals,or aliens, and never give them a second thought. In fact, under our current presidential administration, those entering our borders are being processed as criminals. But after reading the story of their journey to the United States, we are hoping you’ll see dignity, hope, and value in the lives of those sacrificing everything to be here. We hope their story will help to cut through party lines and politics and restore humanity to the thousands of people daily trying to reach our shores. Many loud voices are constantly shouting for us to be afraid of these people, that they are here to steal our jobs and cause terrorism. And while there will always be evil wherever there are people, we believe that most people face the perils of coming here to experience the paradise we know and love as The United States of America.
Murphy and his two friends, Vanessa and Ryan, began their mission at the Catholic Charities of McAllen, a mission helping immigrants after they have been processed by ICE. This mission sits across from the bus stop that will take thousands of people to their sponsors, mostly family members who are here legally. This charity gives each person a set of clothes, food, toiletries, shoes if necessary, and pays for their bus tickets out of McAllen. This is where the trio worked to go through clothing donations the first day. But what they discovered is that they loved being near the children. Children who were sick and exhausted from a long, arduous journey. Children who had not felt like children for weeks…or maybe longer depending on life in their home countries.
One child, Julia, found her way into the affections of Murphy and Vanessa with her shining personality (before the last day, Ryan Uran had to leave). She wanted them to teach her English. She already knew some and decided to practice on them. Murphy and Vanessa spent the last day with Julia and all the other kids, but when it was time for them to leave and return home, Julia didn’t budge. She pleaded with them not to go. Her father, close by, came over to thank Murphy and Vanessa for all the time they poured into his daughter and he explained that they were on their way to Tulsa, OK. Through the interpretation of Vanessa, these Hondurans’ story came to be known to their new American friends.
What came next can only be described as wisdom from the Holy Spirit. For Murphy felt compelled to drive this duo to Oklahoma himself, as it was only a few hours from his own home. Pedro could not believe this invitation but accepted. Murphy went through the proper channels and was granted permission to take them to Pedro’s sister, who would be sponsoring them. This saved the charity two bus tickets for two more people, and it gave Murphy and Vanessa even more time to build human connections with two people many of us would never have given a second thought.
Murphy described that as soon as they left the charity, both new passengers were glued to their windows in disbelief of the beauty of cars passing by, fast food restaurants, houses, and things that are so normal to us, we would never dream to label as beautiful. To them, they saw Heaven. Murphy looked back at a silent Pedro, with tears streaming down his eyes, as he looked upon Julia, who had fallen into a deep sleep next to him. A kind of sleep, he explained, that she had not experienced for four weeks on their journey through Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico, and finally, here.
They dropped Vanessa off at home and because they had started this long drive in the late afternoon, Murphy asked Pedro if they’d like to spend the night with his family outside of Fort Worth, Texas. At home, Murphy’s wife, Kelly, got their guest room and bed ready for their visitors. When they arrived, their daughter took Julia and played with her, like little girls play, with makeup and hair, and clothes galore. Murphy’s daughter was happy to give Julia some of her clothes. Murphy recalled they all slept in late the next morning, but Julia slept in the latest. One can only imagine the peace she finally felt being loved on, being fed, feeling valued, having a warm shower to herself and feeling clean for the first time in weeks.
Before the kids woke up, Murphy and Pedro had coffee and breakfast together. They spoke mainly about Jesus and the church. You see Pedro is also a Believer in Christ, an Anglican to be exact. He shared his frustrations of the institution of church in Honduras, mirroring much of the wealth driven ministries of our own country. Yet his faith was strong and Jesus was his reason for caring for his family. His faith pushed him to leave the country he loves to this new land that would offer respite, resources, and ultimately safety. They talked about how God loves the immigrant. Pedro asked for Murphy’s Google Translate to say a long sentence, Pedro said, “I have no words to thank you for what you are doing for me and my daughter, but what I do know is that our Father in Heaven has perfect gratitude for you. There is so much Peace in your house, a house that I do not know. Here in this house that I do not know, I feel as If I have been here many times before. The Peace I feel is priceless.”
Later that day, Murphy loaded up his new friends along with two of his children and they took them to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Pedro recalled more of his thoughts to Murphy “When I was on the road to the United States and saw my daughter sleeping on the floor, I asked God for help on my trip into the United States. Yet, I never imagined that God would present Himself in such a direct way through you to help us. At the Center in McAllen I was pleased to meet you, and knew God had introduced us, because I am sure that you are people with God in your hearts.”
The thought of riding the bus to Tulsa, and not knowing English well meant Pedro was afraid he wouldn’t have made it to his sister’s house. Murphy’s invitation to take them to Tulsa was an answer to Pedro’s prayers. It was God showing him that he was valued and loved by His Creator. Pedro felt seen.
When they made it to Pedro’s sister’s house, Pedro’s sister greeted them with weeping and overwhelming joy, saying she was so glad God had brought them home. On the journey home from McAllen, Pedro had shared with Vanessa that Julia had never ridden a bike before because he was never able to afford one. When Julia walked into the house, her aunt surprised her with a brand new bike to celebrate their arrival!
Murphy and his children were invited to eat with them, which Murphy accepted before heading home. But before they left, Murphy gave Pedro a financial blessing, the money I had entrusted to him for whatever purpose he chose along this trip. At first, Pedro would not receive the money, what meant to him was a month’s wages. Murphy showed him messages of our exchanges and Pedro agreed to accept, grateful and with thanksgiving. When Murphy shared this part with me, I wished I had given more. I could not believe that God had literally used our donation to directly help a human being, and it was the answer to my prayers. It was more evidence that our heartfelt prayers were truly from God. The way He aligns our lives together and joins them in such intricate ways is something we could never plan ourselves.
And though I have never met Murphy, Pedro,Vanessa, Ryan or Kelly, we are linked in being obedient to God. As all of us are Followers of Christ, and we know our futures are held in His Hands. We are linked through our brotherhood and sisterhood of our Father who sees us as beautiful and worthy. As a born citizen of this country, I may be recognized by the government of belonging here. But the citizenship of Heaven is open for all of us if we choose. Christ does not discriminate along nationalities, race, gender, or anything else. Murphy, Pedro, Vanessa, Ryan, Kelly, and I see each other as that, accepted as equal in Christ’s love.
You must not oppress foreigners. You know what it’s like to be a foreigner, for you yourselves were once foreigners in the land of Egypt. Exodus 23:9
We do not know what will come of Pedro and Julia. Pedro was an electrical engineer in Honduras, but will be sheetrocking with his family to begin making money immediately. He is not here to steal work. He is here to make a better life for his family and he’d like to bring a son over that needs better medical attention. He is a smart man, willing to use whatever means he has been blessed by God to use to make life better for his family. Can’t we all identify with him?
The media and politicians are always trying to make us believe one thing over another. They want us to get caught up in confusion about laws. They want us to be filled with fear. They stir up whatever emotion they can to play us against each other. In our fear and anger we relegate human beings at the border simply as illegals and we go on our way. We may see them as nuisances. Sometimes we see them as humans but we have no idea how to help them. We feel powerless and think our paltry prayers can do nothing.
But fellow Believer in Christ, our prayers are what tie us into our Father and tie us into each other. Never for a minute believe that your prayers are useless. God heard and answered Pedro’s prayers and he heard Murphy’s and mine, too.
If you’d like to be the hands and feet of Christ to migrants at our borders, Murphy’s example has shown us a direct way. We can give directly to the Catholic Charities of McAllen or even plan a visit there to volunteer. After discussing with Ryan, financial donations are best if you want to support this charity. They will use the money to help buy bus tickets for the migrants to their sponsors and for supplies they know they need. Murphy is planning on more trips to our border so stay tuned for this information coming.
But, friend, please notice all the patterns of love shown. The love of Christ in Pedro, the message we all believe, but see how it is lived out by a man who is not like us. The promises Christ made for us, citizens of the US are the same and very real for everyone who believes, no matter where they are born. But also see the love in the trio who sacrificed to make it to McAllen, and in the hundreds of volunteers who help run the charity, daily, so they can be human to many unknown faces. See the love in those who stayed at home, like Murphy’s wife Kelly, to take care of kids and prepare a place of rest for visitors who were accepted as family members. See the love in the children playing, and in the rest and financial offering. See the love in those who are here and sponsoring family members. Where there is Christ, His love abounds.
This story is brought to you to illustrate the humanity people at our borders still need even while others scoff that we should even care about deplorable conditions for those who break the law coming here. This isn’t just an issue of legislation, it is more an issue of our hearts, for those of us who profess to love Christ but fail to take action when it is desperately needed. By sharing this story, we hope more people will see humanity from the perspective of our Father and reach out to be a real light in the darkness.
For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ. 2 Corinthians 4:6