Christmas 2020

 

I’d heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord~But you don’t really care for music do you?

Leonard Cohen wrote Hallelujah as a secular hymn, a tongue in cheek conversation with God that tumbles through humor, disappointment, success, all while singing Hallelujah-a Hebrew concept that tells us to sing to God. Relentlessly.

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth~The minor fall, the major lift~The baffled king composing “Hallelujah”

He strips his art to its most basic musical elements and describes David as an unknowing artist.

                             

Hallelujah.

I first resonated with this song after the 2016 election. Watching Kate McKinnon sing it felt both hopelessly tragic and somehow cathartic.

                                    Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

Each verse contains struggle, darkness, failings. But each chorus sings Hallelujah. Always pointing us back to God, turning away from temporal loss and toward eternal strength. I could     write of the grief of 2020, the lost jobs, the sacrifices, the disappointment in my children’s eyes.

There’s a blaze of light in every word~It doesn’t matter which you heard~The holy or the broken hallelujah

And therein lies the crux of this year. Holding both sorrow and joy in the same hand, loosely, equally. Our family has changed this year. My job is gone, the kids haven’t been to school since March 17^th, we cancelled family trips and birthday parties, simple family moments were stolen away by ignorance and fear.

And even though it all went wrong~I’ll stand before the lord of song~With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah.

Our family has been changed by this year. Bard has his job and received a promotion. Through three separate trips to the ER, we are somehow still healthy. We’ve sailed the Sound, marched for Black Lives, hosted countless virtual book clubs, and made connection an unshakeable priority for our family. We’ve lived generously, safely, and together. But most of all, we’ve watched the entire world take a collective breath and rise up with the unmatched creativity of the human spirit to say, “We’ve got this.” From museums creating virtual exhibits, to online bookstores offering free subscriptions, the world told my children it was going to be okay. From porch drop offs to streaming dance classes to mutual aid to a map of houses with candy chutes for Halloween, Tacoma told my children it was going to be okay.

I don’t know what next year holds. I could never have predicted the battle we have faced for this year. As Evelyn fights to become a teenager, while separated from all that should entail-friends, parties, and simple physical distance from family. She overcomes with music, with prayer, with theatre (zoom) performances, and with tears. Cecilia fights her emotions; her anger and her fear, fights to make friends in a school that is still new, while her microphone continues to quit working, fights to say kind words and to grow as a dancer. And Max. Max gives in to the lessening of stimulation due to the shutdown. He thrives and then we go continue the war to ensure he has the services he needs for his education and the environment he needs for peace. And then we lay down the fight and go for a bike ride. We sit in the sunroom listening to the silence. We plant a garden and we go for a swim. We rest in the unchangeable. Because.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

Leonard Cohen said, “Hallelujah can come out of things that have nothing to do with religion.” Which is true, because Hallelujah has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with Truth. Joy found in sorrow. Love. Beauty out of ashes. Hallelujah.

Christmas 2019

Although 2019 has been filled with many tremendous accomplishments, I must admit, I am not at all sorry to see it go. And the 20s are roaring in, with so many new beginnings for us this year, our theme is one of transition-finding the same amid the change.

This year I finished my Nonprofit Certificate at UW, left my job at the Tacoma Art Museum and started a new position, with LeMay-America’s Car Museum. I’m coordinating a program that connects schools with museum field trips and classroom visits, focusing on giving students in underserved communities more STEAM opportunities. Re-entering the work force has been a huge transition for our whole family. Bard has been able to start working from home two days a week to ease us in and his steadiness has been an eye in the storm of change for our family.

Speaking of our theme, Evelyn takes the cake with transitioning from private to public school AND starting middle school! In true Evelyn fashion, she is bemused by my assumption that this would be difficult and shrugs off questions with a “Mom” (spoken with two syllables and sometimes an eye roll!) She loves school, her teachers love her, and right now she is busily working on her research project-bomb sniffing rats. Ugh. Anyway, a starring role in Seussical the Musical over the summer, performing with our studio’s dance team, spraining (not breaking!) her arm, and taking up the oboe for band class round out Evelyn’s year. Transition? What transition?!

Not to be out done, Cecilia also made the switch to public school. This has been such a great (and long time coming) decision for our family. But I was a little worried as to how my introverted, slightly anxious, and all the way feisty middle child would handle such a big step. Not to minimize how hard she worked to adjust to a new school, but I was so relieved at the apparent ease in which she jumped in and made new friends, mastered a different school environment, and maintained a good attitude! She loves her new teacher, has added acro classes to her dance repertoire, and is just one inch short of being able to do splits on both her right and left legs! But most importantly, Cici is thriving, less anxious in a more supportive environment, and is comfortable with her ability to be herself in new situations.

Now, if you really want to hear how Max’s kindergarten transition has gone, you should probably have a MA in psychology and also buy me a stiff drink. But in lieu of that happening, I’ll see if I can sum it up for you. Awful. Awful. Want more? Okay…specialists, lawyers, principal’s office, six IEP meetings, countless calls and emails, never-ending sleepless nights, tears, tears, tears. And through it all we are continually blessed by the beautiful people who surround Max and love on him through his trauma, through his varying abilities. They believe that he can be more than who his past tries to trap him into being, and they call him to grow toward a future of hope, love, and strength.  Max is actually the most perfect picture of how we all handle transitions. We might make it look prettier on the outside, but on the inside, we are often a mess too. But if we persist, if we fight, and if we show one ounce of the determination that Max uses each and every day, we can overcome more than we know.

I added a new tattoo this year, a phoenix rising with all different phrases about Rising Up interwoven amid the tail feathers (don’t worry, you know the Hamilton lyrics are there too!) But recently I’ve been reminded of my tattoo for Max, “Love Never Fails.” The thing about the concept of unfailing love is that it assumes love can fail. And it can. We don’t like to admit it, but when we are stressed, when people make us angry, when we are overwhelmed and under-supported, love can fail. But it doesn’t have to, and, it’s not meant to. Love that never fails is something that is outside of us, something that is bigger than us and is not defined by our circumstances. Transitions come and go; but Love never changes. And when we are confronted with trying times, unloving people, and we want to give up, we can overcome. Because Love never gives up on us.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

2018.

2018. I don’t know that this year has been more busy than any other (although I can’t really remember the whole year) but sometimes certain types of busyness are more exhausting than others. The theme for this year has been advocacy. On so many levels we have spent our time and energy advocating for our children, for representation within their schools, for growth in our church community, and for the oppressed in our own city and country. It’s an odd mingling of discouragement and empowerment and a beautiful way to see both God and people at work, making a difference in our own lives and the lives of those around us.

I was blessed to work with artists from the homeless community this summer and was struck once again by how we so often look at people differently if they are not what society tells us is the ideal we should all strive for. The actors wore masks, because we do not see people for who they really are, but by embracing community they were able to remove each other’s masks and be seen; loved and valued. This year I hope we have seen each person stripped from their place in politics, religion, chaos and controversy and just embraced him or her as being made in the very image of God. Intrinsically valuable.

Evelyn has often been a leader for us in this area, seeing a person of need outside the grocery store and asking if we could buy him something to drink. Attending protests at the Immigrant Detention Center with Bard and chanting for freedom and human decency to win out over hate and fear. She has done all the worldly successful things as well-good grades, performing with her dance team and in theatre productions, piano recitals and even a camp for girls interested in government-where she was elected a Senator! But as she races toward middle school and all things grown up, I am confident that it is her ability to see the other as her own, to fight for humanity, and to lead with love which will define her story.

Speaking of fighting, that brings me to my middle child! Oh Cecilia. This one will not rest until the entire world is fair, so she has a long battle ahead of her but is fortunately blessed with the spirit to match the challenge. Cici surpasses many academic goals, piano lesson benchmarks, and competitions easily. But she is also performing with the dance team this year, and is in the more advanced dance classes-producing a lesson in perseverance & humility. We’re walking through some anxiety issues together and it has given our family the opportunity to learn how stress affects each of us and finding the right balance in our lives.

And then there was Max. This year was a BIG year in the life of Max. We fought our school district to have him repeat preschool another year instead of having him start kindergarten as a very young five-year old. And won. It was a huge accomplishment and one that meant Max could continue to be in the place that is the very best for his growth. And in just a few short months we have already seen tremendous achievements from him, hitting benchmarks in December that his teachers thought would take him until June to accomplish. Good job Maxi, you just keep proving those experts wrong, we believe in you!

It’s always a bit odd to look back over the year and try to determine what was meaningful to our family and how we’ve grown together. We experienced all the usual- swimming lessons, family trips, doctors’ visits (and more doctors’ visits), school events, bike rides, and birthdays. While fun and often important, none of those activities really define us as a family. The real moments from the year are when we sat on our family’s back porch while visiting them in Boston. When we made it a priority every Saturday to share a special breakfast with each other before splitting ways for a crazy day. When we ate pizza with a group of church friends, working together to help a school on the East Side honor its teachers. When we brought cookies to our teachers on strike and showed up again and again at rallies and protests to speak on behalf of those our government tries to oppress. And moment after countless moment, we are reminded of how our community carries us through life’s trials and triumphs. We are not alone. We are together, with you, ready for a new year, to love in little ways that bring about big changes and to share a very needed light that pierces the darkness and brings hope to us all.

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Nonbelievers. Look heavenward and speak the word aloud. Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud. Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves, And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation: Peace, My Brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, My Soul. ~ Maya Angelou