I'm a lover of small subcultures. And while there are many runners, I read that about 0.5 percent of the population will complete a marathon. That's a relatively small group, but among runners, the really small groups are ultrarunners (typically defined as running a 50K or more), ultrarunners who run 100 milers (I know ONE person in this category, two if you count driving another one to the start of a marathon once because he's close friends with a friend of mine). And then of course, are the tiny handful of ultrarunners who compete in the Barkley marathons. If you want to begin a dive down a deep rabbit hole, you should read through that link and then go watch a documentary of the event. After that, you can join many other people who follow the event annually on Twitter. My brief summary is that it's a crazy long race in crazy difficult conditions, that almost no one can actually complete.
The race director of this event is legendarily crazy. Any time someone finishes the Barkley, the course gets harder. He's honed the art of challenging people physically, and he appears to love running and wants to inspire others.
So this summer, he started the Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee, which was advertised to be 1,000 kilometers. Turns out, it's actually a bit further than that. It's actually 1021.68 kilometers. In miles, that equates to 5.5 miles every day from May 1 to August 31. That's a LOT of miles. Runners and walkers can compete. There was a small entry fee, which included a t-shirt and, for finishers, a medal. He figured he could keep a few race related businesses up and running if he had an event. Not sure he realized there would be 19,000 runners and walkers across the world willing to compete!
I couldn't resist. I wanted a challenge and I'm never going to be able to compete in one of this guys regular (which are not at all regular) races. They're far too challenging for me.
But this? Maybe?
So far, it seems possible. But unlike most other challenges I've participated in, there is no way to speed this up in any meaningful way. If I run too far one day, I'll be too tired to run the next, losing any gain. And, because I have over 500 miles left to go - I can't just knock it out and be done.
I've never counted my walking miles before, so I don't have a good idea of how much my total mileage has increased - but given how sore my body is, I can guess it's been a lot. As of yesterday, I had logged 111.1 miles. A quick look at stats from my watch showed that of those, 81 had been from running, which means I'm looking at running miles similar to when I'm in all out marathon training. Trixie and I have been walking a lot (looks like a little under 2 miles most days).
My projected finish day is August 12.
So far, I met a woman in my actual running group for some virtual BBQ in Memphis. Can't wait to explore Tennessee virtually this summer!
Elaine
Tuesday, May 19, 2020
Friday, May 8, 2020
Renewal
It is hard to look around and see so many things closed. Every restaurant, knitting store, butcher - all someone's dream, and all at risk of closing if the shut down continues much longer and the government doesn't step in to provide substantial assistance.
The same is true for so many opportunities lost for my family. I was supposed to have lunch with Ruth Bader Ginsburg last Sunday, arranged by women I'm cohosting a conference with (which has been delayed until 2021). Connor was supposed to be in New York last weekend and Helen had an orchestra field trip overnight that included an amusement park. Lots of fun time lost.
But I'm trying to view life from a perspective of growth and opportunity, rather than loss.
Last year, when my family was in Hawaii, we took a small plane over an area where a volcano had erupted the previous year. For miles and miles, all you could see was lava that had leveled neighborhoods. A road that you could previously drive through a park had collapsed and dropped many feet. It was incredible.
But when we asked about how people responded, we heard stories of resiliency. Rather than talk of a home being mowed down, people talked about the opportunity for the island to grow and be made new.
That's a touch lesson, and one I don't understand well, but in the last week, my children have heard talks from two astronauts, watched a program with climate scientists, and there are several other lectures planned. These are new opportunities, brought about by this pandemic.
So...what will we build when we wake from this paused economy? Will it be more fair? Will it capture a new imagination? Will we learn there are fewer boundaries than we previously thought?
The same is true for so many opportunities lost for my family. I was supposed to have lunch with Ruth Bader Ginsburg last Sunday, arranged by women I'm cohosting a conference with (which has been delayed until 2021). Connor was supposed to be in New York last weekend and Helen had an orchestra field trip overnight that included an amusement park. Lots of fun time lost.
But I'm trying to view life from a perspective of growth and opportunity, rather than loss.
Last year, when my family was in Hawaii, we took a small plane over an area where a volcano had erupted the previous year. For miles and miles, all you could see was lava that had leveled neighborhoods. A road that you could previously drive through a park had collapsed and dropped many feet. It was incredible.
But when we asked about how people responded, we heard stories of resiliency. Rather than talk of a home being mowed down, people talked about the opportunity for the island to grow and be made new.
That's a touch lesson, and one I don't understand well, but in the last week, my children have heard talks from two astronauts, watched a program with climate scientists, and there are several other lectures planned. These are new opportunities, brought about by this pandemic.
So...what will we build when we wake from this paused economy? Will it be more fair? Will it capture a new imagination? Will we learn there are fewer boundaries than we previously thought?
Monday, April 20, 2020
Rhythm
When the kids were little, Ed and I focused a lot on rhythm. The day's start and end were consistent. We implemented a schedule of breakfasts that rotated throughout the week. We tried to honor their need to breathe in and then breathe out, alternating activities of activity and inactivity. And for the most part, it worked.
And of course, even though they both typically spend a significant amount of time outside my home now, they still have their rhythms - and those are difficult to replicate.
Connor will sit and program on his computer (he's trying to test out of a class) for a solid two hours, and then he'll need a little break. Often, he'll go back to it after a break. It struck me as I observed this that it probably reflected his day - where his classes meet for a couple of hours, he shifts to a new class, and then that class meets for a couple of hours. All told, he meets in four classes most days. (One day, all seven classes happen, and the students uniformly do not like the rushing it entails.)
Helen, on the other hand, attends seven classes every day. So her natural rhythm is one of fourty-five minute blocks, and then some social time in the hallways as she moves to her next class. This is really hard to replicate at home. And I think she feels that.
Ed and I, on the other hand, go to work, sit for extended periods, and have small interuptions which we have a lot of control over. That's no longer true in a work from home format. The calls are endless. And there is no ability to just pop out of my office, grab a drink of water, and expect to find a colleague to bounce an idea off of. I haven't talked to my boss in a long time. It's a little unnerving.
In some ways, this feels like we're back to those early days - except in those early days, when we were a round, we were generally available to our children. Now, we're around, but also trying to work. That seems to make it harder to establish rhythms we can all live in - but we're also all more flexible than we used to be.
I'm at day 41 of being home. That's a long time!
Elaine
And of course, even though they both typically spend a significant amount of time outside my home now, they still have their rhythms - and those are difficult to replicate.
Connor will sit and program on his computer (he's trying to test out of a class) for a solid two hours, and then he'll need a little break. Often, he'll go back to it after a break. It struck me as I observed this that it probably reflected his day - where his classes meet for a couple of hours, he shifts to a new class, and then that class meets for a couple of hours. All told, he meets in four classes most days. (One day, all seven classes happen, and the students uniformly do not like the rushing it entails.)
Helen, on the other hand, attends seven classes every day. So her natural rhythm is one of fourty-five minute blocks, and then some social time in the hallways as she moves to her next class. This is really hard to replicate at home. And I think she feels that.
Ed and I, on the other hand, go to work, sit for extended periods, and have small interuptions which we have a lot of control over. That's no longer true in a work from home format. The calls are endless. And there is no ability to just pop out of my office, grab a drink of water, and expect to find a colleague to bounce an idea off of. I haven't talked to my boss in a long time. It's a little unnerving.
In some ways, this feels like we're back to those early days - except in those early days, when we were a round, we were generally available to our children. Now, we're around, but also trying to work. That seems to make it harder to establish rhythms we can all live in - but we're also all more flexible than we used to be.
I'm at day 41 of being home. That's a long time!
Elaine
Thursday, April 2, 2020
April Fool's Day
Since everything is topsy-turvy here, I wasn't sure what to expect for April Fool's Day. Occasionally, we pull off some modest surprises, but mostly we can't think of anything that good.
We started the day off with our standard prank of making the lightbulb in the refrigerator not work. The kids and I usually just tape the little button that comes on and off with the door opening to remain off, but after a few years, Ed has actually wised up to this. So...this year I also unscrewed the lighbulbs a bit. Didn't really fool him, but he played along.
I had an all-day online meeting with a group I only meet with a few times a year. I ran up the stairs at 8:27, giving myself just a few minutes to shift offices (I've been working in the dining room) to the upstairs guest room (where Ed has been working). I logged on - and my screen was blue - with a lot of words about there being a system error and instructions to try turning the computer on and off. That did not work. Blue screen again - and now I was risking being late. So I hopped on my phone to call in from there - and Helen came running upstairs. She is the only person in my family who is not a turd. She explained what they had done, fixed my computer, and by the time I got on my meeting I learned we were actually starting at 9 - so I was still early. (Usually we have breakfast together and chat before the meeting starts.)
In other words, my family nailed me.
And then, a few hours later, when I hopped on my computer to wrap something up, Ed had reset my computer so the damn screen came up again.
Connor was more modest in his pranks, and I didn't discover until this morning that he had put a piece of tape over my mouse's sensor so it wouldn't work properly. Tricked again.
I was able to get Helen - and almost get Connor. I told Helen that Governor Northam had just finished his press conference and the state had decided that students would repeat the grade they were currently in next year. Her face fell a little and I could see the anger. I quickly told her it was a joke. When I went to play the same joke on Connor, he started to fall for it but then realized it couldn't be true. Almost got him - but not quite.
My dad played his usual trick of calling the kids up and letting them know an elephant was on the lawn. The kids are old enough to not fall for it any longer, but I think they still enjoy the call.
Hope your April Fool's Day was as fun as you wanted it to be.
Elaine
PS: My mom will be happy to read that I found one final jar of her strawberry jelly in the freezer. I pulled it out and both Connor and Helen have been enjoying it. Good thing strawberry season is around the corner!
We started the day off with our standard prank of making the lightbulb in the refrigerator not work. The kids and I usually just tape the little button that comes on and off with the door opening to remain off, but after a few years, Ed has actually wised up to this. So...this year I also unscrewed the lighbulbs a bit. Didn't really fool him, but he played along.
I had an all-day online meeting with a group I only meet with a few times a year. I ran up the stairs at 8:27, giving myself just a few minutes to shift offices (I've been working in the dining room) to the upstairs guest room (where Ed has been working). I logged on - and my screen was blue - with a lot of words about there being a system error and instructions to try turning the computer on and off. That did not work. Blue screen again - and now I was risking being late. So I hopped on my phone to call in from there - and Helen came running upstairs. She is the only person in my family who is not a turd. She explained what they had done, fixed my computer, and by the time I got on my meeting I learned we were actually starting at 9 - so I was still early. (Usually we have breakfast together and chat before the meeting starts.)
In other words, my family nailed me.
And then, a few hours later, when I hopped on my computer to wrap something up, Ed had reset my computer so the damn screen came up again.
Connor was more modest in his pranks, and I didn't discover until this morning that he had put a piece of tape over my mouse's sensor so it wouldn't work properly. Tricked again.
I was able to get Helen - and almost get Connor. I told Helen that Governor Northam had just finished his press conference and the state had decided that students would repeat the grade they were currently in next year. Her face fell a little and I could see the anger. I quickly told her it was a joke. When I went to play the same joke on Connor, he started to fall for it but then realized it couldn't be true. Almost got him - but not quite.
My dad played his usual trick of calling the kids up and letting them know an elephant was on the lawn. The kids are old enough to not fall for it any longer, but I think they still enjoy the call.
Hope your April Fool's Day was as fun as you wanted it to be.
Elaine
PS: My mom will be happy to read that I found one final jar of her strawberry jelly in the freezer. I pulled it out and both Connor and Helen have been enjoying it. Good thing strawberry season is around the corner!
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
COVID-19 Diary
March 31. Starting a little late here - but might as well jump in. Almost three weeks ago, I stopped going in to my office. The office officially closed on Monday, March 16 - but I figured it was safer to stay at home ASAP, so I stopped commuting on Wednesday, March 11.
Connor stopped being able to attend school on March 13 (which I think is the first day Ed worked from home) and Helen's school system closed on the following Monday, March 16.
On March 13, our governor announced that schools would be closed through the remainder of the school year, and the students and teachers would instead engage in "distance learning". Hearing that schools were closed for the duration of the year was hard.
Yesterday, March 30, Virginia got a stay home order, which doesn't change our lives too terribly much since we've been mostly hunkered down - but the stay home order is in place until JUNE 10. JUNE 10 is a LONG ways away. That was hard to hear.
April 1. There is an interesting model that attempts to project hospital needs, based on a few inputs including when schools were closed, when a stay home order was put in place, when non-essesntial services were shut down, and when travael was severely restricted. Also feeding into the model are reported cases and death. The analysis is state-by-state, and in some cases, it's pretty comforting.
But not today.
Yesterday, the data did not include the date of Virginia's stay-home order, which should have the effect of pushing our peak resource need out considerably. It also wasn't totally up to date on deaths and confirmed cases.
The model suggested that peak usage would be May 28 in Virginia. And, because I have family in Kansas, I recorded the peak usage day in Kansas as well - April 27. The US peak usage day was projected to be April 15 - but given the unevenness of this mess, it's hard to derive much meaning from that date.
Overnight, the model was updated. For the US, the peak usage date was pushed back one day - to April 16. But here in Virginia, our peak usage day was MOVED FORWARD! Our peak usage predicted date is now May 20. Kansas was pushed back a day to April 28.
So...when an input that should have pushed our date back was added - it wasn't enough to outweigh the inputs that move the date forward, which is presumably identified cases. Maybe the first date was false, because testing has been so inconsistent, so the change doesn't really mean anything. But when I look at the numbers - and I really see it as there being very little else we could do, personally - today slots solidly into the "hard days" column. These days are thankfully rare, but really overwhelming.
Connor stopped being able to attend school on March 13 (which I think is the first day Ed worked from home) and Helen's school system closed on the following Monday, March 16.
On March 13, our governor announced that schools would be closed through the remainder of the school year, and the students and teachers would instead engage in "distance learning". Hearing that schools were closed for the duration of the year was hard.
Yesterday, March 30, Virginia got a stay home order, which doesn't change our lives too terribly much since we've been mostly hunkered down - but the stay home order is in place until JUNE 10. JUNE 10 is a LONG ways away. That was hard to hear.
April 1. There is an interesting model that attempts to project hospital needs, based on a few inputs including when schools were closed, when a stay home order was put in place, when non-essesntial services were shut down, and when travael was severely restricted. Also feeding into the model are reported cases and death. The analysis is state-by-state, and in some cases, it's pretty comforting.
But not today.
Yesterday, the data did not include the date of Virginia's stay-home order, which should have the effect of pushing our peak resource need out considerably. It also wasn't totally up to date on deaths and confirmed cases.
The model suggested that peak usage would be May 28 in Virginia. And, because I have family in Kansas, I recorded the peak usage day in Kansas as well - April 27. The US peak usage day was projected to be April 15 - but given the unevenness of this mess, it's hard to derive much meaning from that date.
Overnight, the model was updated. For the US, the peak usage date was pushed back one day - to April 16. But here in Virginia, our peak usage day was MOVED FORWARD! Our peak usage predicted date is now May 20. Kansas was pushed back a day to April 28.
So...when an input that should have pushed our date back was added - it wasn't enough to outweigh the inputs that move the date forward, which is presumably identified cases. Maybe the first date was false, because testing has been so inconsistent, so the change doesn't really mean anything. But when I look at the numbers - and I really see it as there being very little else we could do, personally - today slots solidly into the "hard days" column. These days are thankfully rare, but really overwhelming.
Friday, March 6, 2020
Election 2020: Self Fulfilling Prophesy
Another democratic primary season is coming to a close, and despite this season starting out with many qualified women, not a one remains in the race. Inside, I feel like 2016 all over again. Kick me now, lest I ever be able to stand up again.
In some ways, maybe this is better than 2016. At least I won't have to watch my gal lose to a monster.
In other ways, it's worse.
For a while, I could pretend that people uniquely hated HRC, so that must be why she lost. Maybe it was because she was a woman, but maybe...it was something else? (Please, let it be something else!) It wasn't qualifications. Our current president is not more qualified. As of right now, he's pretending that a virus that is spreading rapidly is a hoax brought to bring down his presidency. He's suggesting that a flu vaccine could be the answer and every day I am assualted by another news article about how he's let this get more out of control than it should have. And seriously, I could write this post any day in the past two years or until he's out of office and there will be an equally inane story about his incompetence to tell.
But now, with Elizabeth Warren's candidacy ending, I think it's appropriate to call a spade a spade. We hate smart women. We find them "condescending". And even though we promise that we personally like women and would vote for one - we just cannot do that this time because she's not electable. And truly, it is taking everything I have not to punch a friend who sent me a note about how I just have to vote for her old white guy because he is electable - even if my gal, Warren, is smarter and better at governing. And then followed it up with a remark about someone having a "social media tantrum" shortly after I called the plea to vote for her guy out for the BS that it was.
The stats on the share of people voting for Old White Guy who did so because they changed their mind in the last 48 hours before voting is punishing. Fear, no doubt, is a powerful motivator.
But I stand with women. [And I am nearly brought to my knees knowing that I will be at least FIFTY before I see a woman President and Helen will be driving. Don't tell my enlightened 12 year old self this because she will laugh at you if you tell her she has to wait until she's at least FIFTY to see a woman occupy the highest seat in government. She just knows we're better than this. - Sorry, 12 year old self, we were super wrong.]
One of my earlier political memories is that of Anita Hill. In 1991, just after I had graduated from high school, she testified before Congress that the Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her when he was her employer. The story gained a lot of traction, presumably, because the nominee had spent very little time actually being a judge. But we were assured he was an excellent choice because of his outstanding character. Anita Hill's testimony put that character in doubt.
That man sits on the Supreme Court, still. And every time I see a photo of him it burns me.
It's not easy to forget how Anita Hill was treated. And yes, I am fully aware Old White Guy has apologized profusely for how he crapped on Hill when he was a Senator and she was testifying. But that apology doesn't mean much when Thomas gets to sit on the Supreme Court - for life.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg.
You may have won, but I assure you, when Elizabeth Warren dropped out of the race - we lost.
Again.
In some ways, maybe this is better than 2016. At least I won't have to watch my gal lose to a monster.
In other ways, it's worse.
For a while, I could pretend that people uniquely hated HRC, so that must be why she lost. Maybe it was because she was a woman, but maybe...it was something else? (Please, let it be something else!) It wasn't qualifications. Our current president is not more qualified. As of right now, he's pretending that a virus that is spreading rapidly is a hoax brought to bring down his presidency. He's suggesting that a flu vaccine could be the answer and every day I am assualted by another news article about how he's let this get more out of control than it should have. And seriously, I could write this post any day in the past two years or until he's out of office and there will be an equally inane story about his incompetence to tell.
But now, with Elizabeth Warren's candidacy ending, I think it's appropriate to call a spade a spade. We hate smart women. We find them "condescending". And even though we promise that we personally like women and would vote for one - we just cannot do that this time because she's not electable. And truly, it is taking everything I have not to punch a friend who sent me a note about how I just have to vote for her old white guy because he is electable - even if my gal, Warren, is smarter and better at governing. And then followed it up with a remark about someone having a "social media tantrum" shortly after I called the plea to vote for her guy out for the BS that it was.
The stats on the share of people voting for Old White Guy who did so because they changed their mind in the last 48 hours before voting is punishing. Fear, no doubt, is a powerful motivator.
But I stand with women. [And I am nearly brought to my knees knowing that I will be at least FIFTY before I see a woman President and Helen will be driving. Don't tell my enlightened 12 year old self this because she will laugh at you if you tell her she has to wait until she's at least FIFTY to see a woman occupy the highest seat in government. She just knows we're better than this. - Sorry, 12 year old self, we were super wrong.]
One of my earlier political memories is that of Anita Hill. In 1991, just after I had graduated from high school, she testified before Congress that the Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her when he was her employer. The story gained a lot of traction, presumably, because the nominee had spent very little time actually being a judge. But we were assured he was an excellent choice because of his outstanding character. Anita Hill's testimony put that character in doubt.
That man sits on the Supreme Court, still. And every time I see a photo of him it burns me.
It's not easy to forget how Anita Hill was treated. And yes, I am fully aware Old White Guy has apologized profusely for how he crapped on Hill when he was a Senator and she was testifying. But that apology doesn't mean much when Thomas gets to sit on the Supreme Court - for life.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg.
You may have won, but I assure you, when Elizabeth Warren dropped out of the race - we lost.
Again.
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
Good Guys, Bad Guys
Last night, one of the moms in my Girl Scout troop arranged to have a canine expert from the police department provide a presentation. It will, without a doubt, be the most memorable meeting of the year that the girls all loved. DOGS!!
As the police officer was giving his spiel, he noted that his dog was trained to go after the "bad guys" and although I'm sure he was using simplified language for the girls, I couldn't help but think was an easy life he projected. He seemed to be able to divide the world into "bad guys" - the ones that get chased by dogs and "good guys" - the ones who send the dogs chasing. How quaint, I thought.
Because it is not lost on me that the world is - quite literally, but also figuratively - on fire today, and has been for some time. And it's going to remain that way for a long time - and I can't help but think it's because we have no collective clue of who the good guys are and who the bad guys are.
Sigh.
As the police officer was giving his spiel, he noted that his dog was trained to go after the "bad guys" and although I'm sure he was using simplified language for the girls, I couldn't help but think was an easy life he projected. He seemed to be able to divide the world into "bad guys" - the ones that get chased by dogs and "good guys" - the ones who send the dogs chasing. How quaint, I thought.
Because it is not lost on me that the world is - quite literally, but also figuratively - on fire today, and has been for some time. And it's going to remain that way for a long time - and I can't help but think it's because we have no collective clue of who the good guys are and who the bad guys are.
Sigh.
Monday, October 21, 2019
Bravo
Nathan is my friend that is an opera singer. When I went to operas with Nathan in college, he would - from the balcony - stand up at the end of the event and shout BRAVO so loudly and clearly that I am certain everyone in the theater heard him.
Next to Nathan, my voice felt small. My applause felt like not enough. I was in awe. But I couldn't bring myself to shout my cheers. I stood next to him and applauded.
When I became a parent, and I first saw my children do something - I was so overwhelmed with how awesome the world is - that a small child can just DO SOMETHING - ANYTHING - that at the end, I summoned my inner Nathan and shouted "Bravo". And I noticed that no one else did this. I thought it was a little odd, but I think that a lot, so I didn't dwell on it much.
I realize now that many people might have taken that moment as a cue and become a little more subtle. I did not. I have not. And I don't regret it.
When my niece graduated from high school -which felt like such a big and important deal to me, she walked across the stage and I could not help myself. I shouted "Bravo". And immediately, I cringed inside a tiny bit because I knew it would end up on my brother-in-law's video, and I was thinking that I should have been a little more reserved so that my voice wouldn't be blotting out whatever other cool things were happening. But I was so proud of her and I was awash in happy feelings of my own graduation and if there was any chance for her to hear me, I wanted to take it.
A few months ago, she reposted the video, and she was not at all miffed that my "bravo" stood out, but instead said it was how she knew I was there, and that it meant a lot to her. I told her that was how I was going to wake her from a coma if she ever fell into one - and I was only a little bit joking.
This summer, Helen was in a theater production and on the way there, she said "Mom, at the end, just clap. Do not say "bravo". Everyone knows it's you and it's embarrassing". To which I said "For real? Don't you want to know I'm there. Don't you think how boring all the other people in the audience must be?" And she said "actually, yes, do whatever you want". And I could tell, the way only a parent can, that she was actually having this conversation to point out that I better keep being me.
At the performance, I shouted my "bravo" at the end, and her friend next to her looked at her and said "Helen, your mom is here!". And they had a little conversation about it, and Helen was beaming. That other girl's mom? Sitting right in front of me.
I think a lot about what I'm leaving for my kids when I'm gone. And I really do hope that when they are older, and I am no longer in the audience, there's a little voice in their head, that mimics mine.
Next to Nathan, my voice felt small. My applause felt like not enough. I was in awe. But I couldn't bring myself to shout my cheers. I stood next to him and applauded.
When I became a parent, and I first saw my children do something - I was so overwhelmed with how awesome the world is - that a small child can just DO SOMETHING - ANYTHING - that at the end, I summoned my inner Nathan and shouted "Bravo". And I noticed that no one else did this. I thought it was a little odd, but I think that a lot, so I didn't dwell on it much.
I realize now that many people might have taken that moment as a cue and become a little more subtle. I did not. I have not. And I don't regret it.
When my niece graduated from high school -which felt like such a big and important deal to me, she walked across the stage and I could not help myself. I shouted "Bravo". And immediately, I cringed inside a tiny bit because I knew it would end up on my brother-in-law's video, and I was thinking that I should have been a little more reserved so that my voice wouldn't be blotting out whatever other cool things were happening. But I was so proud of her and I was awash in happy feelings of my own graduation and if there was any chance for her to hear me, I wanted to take it.
A few months ago, she reposted the video, and she was not at all miffed that my "bravo" stood out, but instead said it was how she knew I was there, and that it meant a lot to her. I told her that was how I was going to wake her from a coma if she ever fell into one - and I was only a little bit joking.
This summer, Helen was in a theater production and on the way there, she said "Mom, at the end, just clap. Do not say "bravo". Everyone knows it's you and it's embarrassing". To which I said "For real? Don't you want to know I'm there. Don't you think how boring all the other people in the audience must be?" And she said "actually, yes, do whatever you want". And I could tell, the way only a parent can, that she was actually having this conversation to point out that I better keep being me.
At the performance, I shouted my "bravo" at the end, and her friend next to her looked at her and said "Helen, your mom is here!". And they had a little conversation about it, and Helen was beaming. That other girl's mom? Sitting right in front of me.
I think a lot about what I'm leaving for my kids when I'm gone. And I really do hope that when they are older, and I am no longer in the audience, there's a little voice in their head, that mimics mine.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Mom
Being the mom inevitably involves a lot of driving, cajoling, praising, holding back, supporting, reminding, questioning, disciplining, and losing sleep. But I have noticed something - almost every time an athlete finishes a race, he or she looks up for his or her mom. And whenever he or she sits for an interview, the first thanks go to the mom for always being there. Sometimes, the looks and thanks go to the parents, but I have yet to see an athlete finish an event and give the dad top billing.
And I think I know why. Because the moment motherhood happens, there is some fierce belief in this child that takes place. Moms are endowed with the knowledge that, given the right conditions, her child can succeed. And it's as if the whole relationship from there on out is infused with this knowledge which can never be taken away. Moms have their kids' backs, even when it makes no sense to do so.
I'm not saying dads aren't fiercely loyal, and my own dad attended more softball games than I can count, and even drove me to Dallas to audition for a school he would never allow me to attend (I'm almost NOT bitter about that any more, Dad, thanks to a recent epiphany I had).
But for better or worse, I think a lot of moms are the ones who get the meal on the table, get the laundry started, and pick up the pieces when they all fall apart.
And while it often feels like the hardest, thankless task that exists, it gets noticed.
Thanks, Mom.
Elaine
And I think I know why. Because the moment motherhood happens, there is some fierce belief in this child that takes place. Moms are endowed with the knowledge that, given the right conditions, her child can succeed. And it's as if the whole relationship from there on out is infused with this knowledge which can never be taken away. Moms have their kids' backs, even when it makes no sense to do so.
I'm not saying dads aren't fiercely loyal, and my own dad attended more softball games than I can count, and even drove me to Dallas to audition for a school he would never allow me to attend (I'm almost NOT bitter about that any more, Dad, thanks to a recent epiphany I had).
But for better or worse, I think a lot of moms are the ones who get the meal on the table, get the laundry started, and pick up the pieces when they all fall apart.
And while it often feels like the hardest, thankless task that exists, it gets noticed.
Thanks, Mom.
Elaine
Thursday, January 10, 2019
Washington-Loving High School?
Living in Virginia is somewhat bizarre. Unlike our neighbors in Maryland who like to pretend their from the North even though *cough* Mason-Dixon Lind *cough*, we in Virginia know we are part of the South. But in Northern Virginia, we like our Democrats, have turned our state from a swing state to a solid blue state, and we generally adopt progressive policies. So while we have a legacy of being in the South, we govern like our friends in the North.
But still...we are encumbered with reminders of the South all the time. Ed's and my first shared living space was a few blocks away from Jefferson Davis Highway. For real. And pretty much every few blocks there's something named after General Lee or another guy famous for fighting for the South. Partly, it's because Virginia bred a ton of these guys. Partly, it's because after the Civil War ended discontented people were really good at getting major things named for their losing people. I suppose at the time it seemed like a nice gesture from the winners.
Now, amidst a national conversation on race and very painful histories, that gesture doesn't seem too appropriate. And I agree with the folks who think it's time to stop honoring all these folks who advanced terrible positions. Which is how the high school near me got caught up in a name change.
Today, it is called Washington-Lee. Tomorrow, it will likely be called Washington-Loving. What's up with the Loving? It's the Supreme Court case that legalized interracial marriage, and it was brought by Virginians. That feels like a better thing to honor than a commander of the Confederate Army.
Tonight, the school board will vote on whether to follow the committee recommendation and remove Lee from the school's name. No doubt, tomorrow will be filled with Lee apologists, and for years - the school will be called by the wrong moniker.
But, eh? I like the idea of not having Lee's name on a public building a few blocks from my home.
Elaine
But still...we are encumbered with reminders of the South all the time. Ed's and my first shared living space was a few blocks away from Jefferson Davis Highway. For real. And pretty much every few blocks there's something named after General Lee or another guy famous for fighting for the South. Partly, it's because Virginia bred a ton of these guys. Partly, it's because after the Civil War ended discontented people were really good at getting major things named for their losing people. I suppose at the time it seemed like a nice gesture from the winners.
Now, amidst a national conversation on race and very painful histories, that gesture doesn't seem too appropriate. And I agree with the folks who think it's time to stop honoring all these folks who advanced terrible positions. Which is how the high school near me got caught up in a name change.
Today, it is called Washington-Lee. Tomorrow, it will likely be called Washington-Loving. What's up with the Loving? It's the Supreme Court case that legalized interracial marriage, and it was brought by Virginians. That feels like a better thing to honor than a commander of the Confederate Army.
Tonight, the school board will vote on whether to follow the committee recommendation and remove Lee from the school's name. No doubt, tomorrow will be filled with Lee apologists, and for years - the school will be called by the wrong moniker.
But, eh? I like the idea of not having Lee's name on a public building a few blocks from my home.
Elaine
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