On Mark Twain’s birthday, I wanted to share some of the photos we took when we traveled to his study’s current location at Elmira College in Elmira, New York. The study was originally on the Langdon land where he did his writing in this small building. He wrote many of his classic stories here. I’ve included an information sign from the site.
Content Warning: Brief mentions of terrorist acts; somewhat graphic.
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With my ongoing research into St. Kateri’s life, I thought instead of a retelling of the first Thanksgiving today, I would set my table with the First People in mind, sharing with my family the Three Sisters as the Mohawk call these three plants that grow side by side: corn, beans, and squash.
I wanted to observe this day of remembrance for the transgender people who have been assaulted and murdered in the last year. I wanted to do this especially this year when transphobic rhetoric has been at an all time high, at least in my experience. This day reminds me of those people lost, and it reminds me how I can continue to speak out and make the world safer for trans people. That is what makes me an ally. Wearing a t-shirt or a pin doesn’t make me one. Speaking out with general information, corrections to misconceptions and misinformation, and calling out transphobia when I see/hear it is what makes me an ally.
I thought about this a lot this weekend. I was on retreat and without getting into private details, I was in the presence of two mothers of transgender sons. One was accepting and one was not. The one who was accepting walked her road, steady over the potholes, and came to understand and accept her son’s new place in her life, never once wavering in her love for them. The second mother was not accepting. She detailed some medical experiences her child had, she shared their new name, but in that, she was not accepting of that name, and would continue to call her child by their birth name. I had a choice to speak out and possibly offend someone; or speak out and educate or really take a stand on that child’s side. I chose to speak out. I think I did it tactfully. The point of speaking out wasn’t to make the mother feel bad or guilty or angry; the point was to make her think, to consider what she’s saying versus the reality of her situation with her child. Silently, I felt that if she continued with this way of thinking, she will lose this child, and I don’t think that’s what she wanted.
Last week, I had a similar opportunity with someone else. He said something that I considered transphobic. It was a small thing, and it wasn’t to a trans person or about anyone, and really it wasn’t that bad in the great, big world of transphobia, but I called it out anyway. It caused an argument with the other person saying that I was being overly sensitive – it was not transphobic. The only response that I could make was that trans people will let you know what’s transphobic. My point here was that it is the small stuff that tells a trans person they’re not welcome or safe with you. You don’t have to murder a trans person to make them feel unsafe with you. I did let it go. People need to hear what’s said and then be given time to think about it, coming to the realization in their own time.
However, knowing that today was coming so soon after these conversations, I knew that I needed to acknowledge this day and these conversations. Those of us who are not transgender do need to have conversations that encourage our questions, that enable us to move beyond our internal biases, that allow us to change our hearts and become un-transphobic. It is not easy for any of us who love people that change before our eyes, but when we look deeper, I think we’ll see that they changed very little. They were always who they were, and it is not up to us to accept them; it is up to us to continue to love them.
I think that when we look at trans folks, the biggest change that we may or may not see is that they are comfortable. They are happy. They are lighter than they used to be now that they are who they are supposed to be, who they’ve always been, hidden away. This is who they’ve always been, except now they’re smiling.
Today is to honor the dead, but it is also to save the living through our acceptance and love. Please consider my words with the intention they were meant, and for everyone, but especially trans people, to have a peaceful day in contemplation and commemoration. I will prayerfully be considering those who lost their lives this past year, but also those who are journeying their own paths and that they remain safe on their journeys.
Yesterday, we lost a pioneer and advocate in the mental health awareness field. Rosalynn Carter was instrumental in beginning the fight against mental illness stigma as well as growing the awareness of mental health issues. She openly talked about her depression and spoke out when it would not have been in her best political interest to do so. She, like her husband, President Jimmy Carter always did things in a way that worked within their consciences through their compassion, empathy, and faith to make the world a better place, one project at a time. Whether it was Habitat for Humanity, the Carter Center, peace initiatives, teaching Sunday school, they worked as a team, full partners, supporting each other in both their shared and differing priorities. She was a good and faithful servant and may she receive her reward and rest in peace.
With Thanksgiving coming up this week, many of us are spending the day (or even the weekend) with family we may not see often, and it can be a wonderful day, but it can also be stressful and draining and you want to maintain the strides you’ve already made in your mental health journey. With the death of First Lady Rosalynn Carter, I am reminded that our mental health journey is ongoing, and we can and should refer back to our advocates and mentors as well as those we may not know, but those who have influenced our journeys as Mrs. Carter has done for me, especially with her independence and her openness on her own mental health struggles and journey.
I have five tools that I want to share with you to add to your mental health toolbox, especially for this holiday season.
Know that the holiday is just one day. You’ll talk, you’ll laugh, you’ll have moments of discomfort, you’ll eat dinner, and it will be over before you know it.
Have a beautiful Thanksgiving, and may the warm feelings carry you through the rest of the year.
The photo below represents both the start and the end of the day.
Beginning with the end, I have slept with a Dream Catcher for most of my life. I notice a change in my sleep when I don’t sleep with one. It creates a calm and peaceful rest as it catches the bad and lets the good continue through. This particular dream catcher is one I got in Niagara Falls, Canada. I was drawn to the colors of the beads that represent the four directions as well as the uniqueness of the center stone.
The booklet is something that I was more recently introduced to through Mohawk Elder Tom Porter of the Kanatsiohareke Community in New York. Since then, I’ve seen it in other Haudenosaunee writings and readings. It is called the Thanksgiving Address, but it has nothing to do with the Thanksgiving holiday, but in giving thanks for all that is around us in the natural world, all that we have, all that we see. It is said at the beginning of all important gatherings, ceremonial and/or governmental. The Haudenosaunee call them the Words Before All Else.
I recently used a form of this address for a meditation that I was tasked to share, and it was very well received. I read mine, but most are recited and because of that they are often never the same twice since the words change with the speaker and the timing of the gathering.
As I said at my own (non-Native) gathering, as a shared meditation, I acknowledged the land we were standing on (Mohawk), and reaffirmed that I am a non-Mohawk, non-Native, sharing their wise words.
I have not been to Starbucks in quite some time. Today is Red Cup Day, so I planned a quick in-and-out/grab-and-go, get my drink, get my cup, and go home to do some work. On the way out the door I grabbed my pouch and keyboard, just in case.
I walked in, and this place is hopping. Seven baristas behind the counter, all moving, creating the dance that has everyone doing their parts, seeing the rhythm that is so natural to them, and yet in that small space, no one is tripping over any of the others, smoothly weaving in and out, and the one barista who seems to be tracking everyone’s drinks, knows all of our names, our orders, who’s waiting for what, greeting, smiling, conversating.
It’s a joy to be here.
I chose my drink, which is a feat in itself since I don’t like coffee, and for the red cup you’re limited on what you can order – they want to show off their seasonal treats and have you try those. I finally settled on the caramel brulee latte, but no coffee; comes with whipped cream and a caramel-ish drizzle. There is a tray of free samples – cranberry bliss bar, which I haven’t had yet this year.
I got my breakfast wrap, and was offered a second sample. I was going to decline, but the customers all have, and this is my favorite treat, so why not.
I settle in, and decide to share with you the wonder of the holidays at Starbucks, especially this one that is my local, well-run, friendly, and makes me remember what joy in the everyday is.
Yes, it’s children laughing and choirs singing. It’s songbirds and sunrises, it’s well-worn jeans and waking up before the alarm, but it’s also the simplicity of the coffee shop where they learn your name, and make your morning that much lighter and brighter, and add just a little bit of joy to the regular.
Experimenting in the kitchen can be very freeing as well as inspiring. I sometimes feel very creative in other areas after making a great meal from scratch. For me, “from scratch” doesn’t necessarily mean a two-to-three-hour production. In the third photo below, the rice I used was Minute Rice. Both dishes can be made with leftover chicken. I used baby potatoes, but you could easily take the larger russets or reds and cut them into the smaller pieces, and again it’s a great way to finish your bag of potatoes.
Both meals used one pan and one metal bowl, and the second meal used a pot to make the Minute Rice. As I finished cooking something on its own, I moved it to the metal bowl until the next item was cooked and then everything was combined and simmered for a short time.
Continue readingWhen we visited the Royal Ontario Museum this past August, I knew that I could not visit every nook and cranny as much as I might have liked to. I also knew that with five of us having different interests that we were going to get very frustrated very quickly if we stuck together. Upon entering and deciding who wanted to pay extra for the special dinosaur exhibit, I announced the three places that I wanted to focus on and whoever came with would be welcome, but if they wanted to explore on their own and meet back through texts, that would be great.
As an aside, I do miss my little ones, but I really appreciate going on vacation with teenagers and older kids because of this freedom for all of us. I didn’t want to see the dinosaurs; more to the point, I didn’t want to PAY to see them, so I didn’t. My daughter was not a fan of medieval arms and armor and so she veered away from that. The technology of texting let us know where the others were when we were engrossed in our little worlds. It was fantastic! And I think we all benefited from the freedom to explore our interests and the freedom from each other for an hour or so.
My three focuses were in the areas of First Nations, Medieval History and Arms & Armor, and Judaica.
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Griffins and Ginger Snaps 