Voting is still a privilege... Even if it shouldn't be.

In the summer of 2013, I had just graduated college. I went to a small, private, Christian, conservative college in the suburbs of Rochester, NY. Before that, I went to a small, conservative high school in a rural town only 40 minutes outside Rochester. Needless to say, I had not experienced much diversity. The summer after I graduated college, I still had a few degree requirements to finish up, including a full time internship. I was placed in a program for teenage parents in Rochester and Monroe County. After a few weeks of being there, my supervisor decided to "throw me right in." I was to offer the parents on the program's wait-list short term services: anything from a ride to a doctor's appointment, to walking them through the steps to get an internship/job experience. I was eager, and dove right in. I began internship processes with two girls. I drove them both to interviews; they were accepted and the paperwork began... But the paperwork came to a screeching halt because I had neglected to check one thing: I failed to check if they had government photo identification. My clients didn't, and therefore we had to stop the internship process and start the process of getting a state ID card. This hadn't even crossed my mind: that someone might not have a photo ID. Something I had had for 5 years at that point. These girls were my age, some even older, but their lives were very different. This was one of the most meaningful lessons in privilege I have received. Something I had so easily taken for granted: a photo ID. 

When I was a little girl, my parents' polling place was my elementary school. My mother also worked at the same school. She would come into my classroom, and sweep me away for five minutes so I could go with her to vote. Sometimes (I'm not sure if this is legal or not, so I hope I don't get my mom arrested or something), she would even let me pull the levers and push the buttons for the candidates she wanted to vote for. This was always valuable to me. I loved voting and what it stood for. I loved the smell of the auditorium. I loved seeing the people lined up. I loved that crisp sense that only comes with the possibility of change that comes on Election Day. I loved standing on my tip-toes to see the names lined up on the ballot, each representing a hopeful candidate or proposition that would bring a fresh point of view to our government.

In 1920, white women won the right to vote. This will always be a meaningful victory in history, and I am so grateful and am proud to be able to fill out my ballot tomorrow. I am excited. Many women fought for years to earn the right to vote, and I am honored to join their ranks as a voting member of society. With the passing of the 19th amendment, white women were no longer fined (or jailed) if they tried to vote, or fought for the cause. Most could get to their polling places with ease and cast their vote, proudly. Black women, however, weren't able to as easily. It was a victory for the white, middle class woman. It wasn't until well into the 1960s that voting became mostly uninhibited for black people. Some still want to make it difficult again today for people like the clients I told you about above with Voter ID laws. This would force people to have to pay to vote (it costs money to get a photo ID... I hardly realized that because my parents paid for mine). That is not right.

Another time I had to reflect on my privilege during the summer of 2013, was during a day long conference on poverty. The speaker gave the example of a mother who lives in poverty that needs to do laundry. I'm going to try to recreate the example for you: This is a mother of two who lives in an apartment with her children. She works during the week, so the only time she has for laundry is the weekend. She can't afford childcare on the weekend because she needs it during the week, so she has to coordinate how to take her children to the laundromat with her. This means she needs to push a stroller, walk with a child, and carry laundry to the laundromat. Feasibly, she can only carry 1, maybe 2 loads of laundry, so this means she either has to do the whole process (most likely 3-4 hours) twice in one weekend, or choose what she washes carefully. I had never thought about how a task like laundry (which I hate with a passion, but is generally easy for me to do), could be so difficult. As I was reflecting on voting in this election, the story of this mother struck me. It must be difficult for some people to take the time out of their day to vote, let alone find their polling location, coordinate transportation, decide whether or not to take their children with them, and learn about the issues. 

I guess I am saying all of this because as I learn more about our society and our world, I become increasingly aware of my privilege in it. I believe that when we are aware of our privileges, we have the responsibility to both educate others who don't see their privilege, and to speak/act out against injustice (which is really based in allowing those in the margins to tell their stories). I am still searching for ways to do that in my life. But, I do know that voting is still a privilege. Yes, it is technically a right in our country, but until we are all equally able to vote, it will be a privilege. The way getting a photo ID is, the way doing laundry is, the way knowing you are probably safe around a police officer is, the way clean drinking water is.

I am so excited to vote tomorrow, which is why I am making Election Day choices not only for myself, but for others who most likely can't, and I encourage you all to do the same!!!

A Word on Your Profile Picture

When terror attacks happen like the one in Paris on Friday, we all long for community. We long to be close and to be together. People feel feelings they never knew they had for people they have never met. We feel broken.
I know these things because I feel them too. We all feel a little closer, a little more humbled, and a little more heartbroken. I hate that it's true, but this act has truly instilled terror in us. The victims in Paris that evening were at a concert, they were out for dinner, they were out for walks. They were living life... Things we do every day. They made us realize, again, just how easily something like this could happen to us. And that is terror.

I'm struggling to put these feelings into words because no one talks about these feelings. When terrorism happens, people talk about "those people." We talk about the victims, we talk about their families, but no one talks about the global bystanders. And in some ways, that is okay. I would never want to say how we are feeling is more important, more awful than the direct victims. But when a terror attack happens, we are all victims. We're all trying to reconcile the fact that this act happened in a world that we live in. All I'm trying to say (in this part) is that the sadness, the vulnerability, the numbness is okay.

I wish media was fair. I wish it gave the same attention it's giving to France to Syria, to Beirut, to all the hurting places in the world. I wish we could be completely aware of things going on in the world so that we can have the appropriate reactions to all these hurtful things. I hate that I have to let media decide what shows up on my news feed (If I read the newspaper daily, I think I'd have a better idea of what was going on in the world, I want to be upfront about that).

Anyways, here's where this is going: I want to mourn life. Human life lost is a tragedy. I want to wrap my arms around the world and hug it so tight that everything falls back into place. I want to dry tears and make lasagna for victims' families. I am a fixer. And this situation is something I can't fix. I think that's how a lot of us feel. And so we do the next best thing: we post. We reach out...but only kind of. We change our profile pictures because it's something small that says we're hurting and that we stand with France. But I'm not convinced that's the best strategy.

I believe we need to have open conversations. We need to tell people we're hurting and scared and tired of this happening over and over. We need to plead the media to tell us all the stories. We need to stand in solidarity, but in solidarity with all. Not just the white people. Not just the developed nations. We need to speak up against crimes against all people.

Changing your profile picture is a coping strategy. I completely understand that. It's a way of saying "I'm sad and hurt and angry and I stand with you, France." But please take it further. Stand for our hurting world because there are too many things that are against humanity right now. Bake a lasagna, hug your loved ones, be informed but not terrified, put a smile on a child's face and be good to each other; tell people how you're feeling. It's not bombing the perpetrators, I know, but these are the most effective, practical strategies I can think of in a world where we don't have very many options as civilian people.

I'm sad, and hurt and confused about the things happening on this earth. And chances are you are too. There is evil out there, and who knows what today may hold. So the best responses I can think of are kindness, and humor, and compassion, and open, informed conversations.

Neighbor Grandparents

They loved deeply. Slowly. Steadily. They were always there. They were constant. Steadfast. Friendly & funny.

They loved consistently:
Always there to open the door for a small scared girl who left her key.
Always there for a driveway bike ride loop.
A king sized candy bar on Halloween for a few special kids.
A blue light on the front porch for a neighbor friend.
Sitting in the living room watching TV, reading a book, always there to reassure peeking neighbors that they always had someone to turn to.

And when one wasn't, the other walking by on a daily trip to the cemetery for a visit.

My neighbor grandparents, who weren't my grandparents, but were. Neighbors who were always there for graduation parties and weddings. Musicals and life events. And the small things. Bike rides, Halloween, Christmas cookies. Always quiet, consistent reassuring. Never second-guessed.

On Achieving Your Goals

These few weeks have been full of good things: visiting camp, spending time with friends (old and new), and most excitingly crossing things off of my 25 Things Before 25 List. For some reason, this list was oddly emotional to make. I always felt like making goals was just setting myself up to not finish them, and so I never wanted to make goals because I didn't want to disappoint myself even more. The list making started off as a light-hearted thing among friends, but as I was sitting there, I couldn't think of things that I wanted, but also didn't want to allow myself to be disappointed about. Then I realized these goals, this list, was a gift I was giving myself. I was giving myself 25 adventures to enjoy. And if I didn't make it, it didn't matter because I simply was giving myself the opportunity.

At first, I wasn't sure why this list was cause for such emotion, but I figured it out....

Anyways! I'm beginning to cross things off, and that is so exciting. So far I have:

1. I've been on Weight Watchers for 1 month.
2. I've read 2 books.
3. I got to the top of my tree climbing rope at camp!!
4. I went camping with friends.

So really, I've crossed two things off, and I'm partly done with the first two listed.

Now a word about the success of my list:

I never thought I would get to the top of my tree climbing rope. I put this on my list thinking I'd get it done at the very end of the 2 years before 25. This means that I pulled myself up about 30 feet into a tree. It was incredible. I wanted to quit a few times, but my friends wouldn't let me (quite frankly I would have quit without them). I think this happened for a reason. That was the hardest thing on the list in my eyes, except for maybe staying on Weight Watchers. The rest of the list is cake (okay, maybe reading 100 books will be more difficult than I bargained for... But if I make it to 55, I'll be happy). Now that I've done that, I know I can do any of the other things.

I have always been a big advocate for goal-setting, but not the best goal setter myself because of reasons listed above. I was scared of disappointment. I was too hard on myself. If this is you, listen to me: if you set goals, you are not allowed to beat yourself up if you try hard and don't reach your goals. If you work your butt off, give it your all, and still fall short, get back up and try again. Feel defeated for only a moment, get up, dust yourself off, and try harder. See your goals as a gift to get yourself motivated, not a beacon of disappointment. You should only be disappointed if you don't give all you've got, and even then, you should still get back up and try again. Learn from your mistakes.

But overall, be kind to yourself. You goals are there to make you a better you. Let them do that!

Sometimes legislature is easier to advocate for than a person.

I've been reading and seeing so many things that have just saddened me lately:
People being torn down by people who have never been (and never will be) in their situations.
People who don't know that they are severely loved by a God who will never leave them.
"Christians" who are more interested in telling others they're wrong rather than loving them as Christ loved the Church.
The same Christians who dare to judge a speck in someone else's eye before taking the plank out of their own.
People of God not daring to look into someone life and situation and understand where that person is.
People hating others who are trying to do the same things we're all doing (live our lives) before loving them, growing them, speaking God's love to them.


This is a response to many things, but most recently the controversy around abortion. I am heartbroken that the words "pro-life" get thrown around by people only talking about one thing.

Yes, we should be concerned about abortion, but we should also be concerned about other life issues like:

Supporting the women and couples before they get pregnant with education, finances, prayer, love, community.
Supporting the women who have chosen abortion because many of them struggle to do life normally afterward.
Supporting the women who chose not to have an abortion, but sometimes wonder if they should have because they are struggling financially to keep their kid alive.


I'm talking about love. All too often, people (Christians, I'm looking at you) get caught up in policies and government and macro level things and we forget about the people they will effect. We forget that Jesus spent so much of his time with people who were hated in their society.

I'm saying we should all spend a whole lot more time with those people our opinions effect and understand their lives. We should be the first ones offering them help, not calling them wicked and Satanic and judging them for seeking someone who will understand (I'm looking at you, Matt Walsh).

The next time you say something about abortion, please please dare to spend time with someone who has had one or who has chosen not to have one. It's all too easy to look at this mass of people and label them as child murderers, baby killers, and anti-life. Because it's a defense mechanism. It's easy-- meaning it's easy on our hearts. It's much more difficult to realize that the issue is not black and white. There are millions of people involved, born and unborn. But please don't forget that each of them has a story. Each of them has a purpose and each of them is dearly loved by God and it's our job to make sure they know that, no matter what their choices are!!!

Yes, we as Christians are called to share the Truth, but the greatest commandment is to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and most important commandment. The second is like it: Love you neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets depend on these two commandments" (Matthew 22:37-40).

How dare we act as though we know what's going on in someone's life at a moment of desperation?
How dare we put laws and bills and legislature above loving a person?
How dare we fail to reach out to these people before they even get pregnant?
How dare we fail to be a part of healing after a traumatic event like an abortion?


For those of you who think that ending abortion will be the end of pro-life issues, what about the death penalty? What about providing families with extra assistance? What about poverty? What about world hunger? Don't you dare point your finger at someone else before you do what you can to address these equally pro-life issues. Please advocate for good politicians and legislature. But more importantly, advocate for the people who God calls us to love.

25 Before 25

A few weeks ago, I was spending time with some friends and we were talking about how another friend of ours made a list of 25 things to do before 25. We thought this was a great idea and set out to make our own versions of our lists. Some were 25 before 25, or 30 before 30... Some of us have long amounts of time, while others just have a few months to complete our lists.

We all got a piece of paper and something to write with and began writing. I wrote one thing down, and started on another one, and realized I couldn't think of anything else. I'd have an idea, and then not write it down because it felt unattainable. I didn't want to disappoint myself by not doing it.

I had a few things on my list, and gave up. But I've spent some more time thinking about it, and I do have a few things I'd like to do before I'm 25. So, without further ado, here's my 25 before 25 list:

1) Get a dog
2) Feel more settled (have my own place where I intend on being for longer than a year)
3) Be on Weight Watchers for at least 6 straight months (and hopefully longer after that).
4) Go to Maine
5) Get a tattoo
6) Go on a road trip
7) Climb a high peak
8) Vote (To be real honest, I haven't voted, and that's really extremely sad and embarrassing)
9) Stick to a budget for more than a month
10) Read 100 books
11) Get to the top of a tree climbing rope at camp
12) Finish my Harry Potter sweater (finally)
13) Go on a date
14) Take a month off of social media/smart phone
15) Decide if I want braces, get them if I do
16) RUN a 5k
17) Host a classy party (Hopefully a Christmassy one so I can wear my cute sweater dress)
18) Make a quilt
19) Get connected/involved in a church
20) Go to NYC and enjoy it (last time I went I stayed in my hotel room and read "Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (and Other Concerns)" Which is ironic because yes, yes they were).
21) Buy a nice pair of professional shoes that I can wear often (without worrying about the price).
22) Go on a beautiful, wonderful, fantastic trip to somewhere far away.
23) Learn how to cook one dish (rather than baking... I love baking but cooking... not so much).
24) Go on a camping trip with friends
25) Go on a canoe/kayak trip


I tried to put things down so that I could cross them off definitively. Instead of putting things like "get better at blah blah," I tried to put more specific things down. Hopefully I can get them done, but if I don't, I've decided I'll still love myself no matter what... Because this list is not the end of the world, and I made it to challenge myself to have fun and to make the most of life.

Spring

11.

11 is the number of weeks I need to wait until I'm at camp for 7 weeks of fun, Jesus, friends and adventure. You may think this is coming from no where, but I think the number 11 is perfectly placed here at Easter. 11 is a nice number. A doable number.

It's been a really tough winter. I've been feeling so misplaced this winter. I've been treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves of seasonal depression, and just honestly feeling worn down. It's been a long time since I felt in the right place, at home, settled.

This week, I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the cross, and what that means for us. When Jesus was hanging there on that cross, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally, he said "It is finished." He did this incredible act of sacrifice so we could live in grace. That means we don't need to worry about sin, we are free to live without it. We need not feel guilty, for he has overcome the world. He beat death by being resurrected three days later.

I think sometimes we just think about the resurrection at church, while we're listening to the familiar Easter story. But I also think there are real life resurrection stories that God puts in our lives to illustrated the raw contrast between death and life. This spring is that for me. New life contrasting a cold and dark winter. Sun shining warm on my skin; my cells soaking up each ray. New friends who are sweet as a kiss on the cheek. New opportunities that are exciting and wonderful and that remind me of who I am and all that I am capable of (with Him). All this after a winter of just trying to get by.

And all of these sweet blessing are because of a Savior who bled and died and rose again to conquer the grave to give grace to sinners.