My work on the show has increased my creativity and resourcefulness, and helped me understand and keep current on LGBT issues. I learned how to be more sensitive. I learned, for example, how to use gender-neutral pronouns and not to make assumptions about a person’s preferred pronouns based on their appearance. My children tell me that, in some of their university classes, the professor begins each semester asking by what pronoun a student wishes to be addressed. Times are changing.
Although I already was an LGBT ally, my experience on Inside Out led me to join PFLAG7 and to attend D.C. Pride, a festival and parade of support for the LGBT community.
Attendance at D.C. Pride also was mind-expanding. I had no idea how many gay organizations existed. I got leads and ideas for future radio show topics.
The joy on display at Pride was infectious. I carried a sign saying, “I love my gay AND straight children,” which caused several groups of young gay people to hug me and thank me. Some relayed their stories of nonacceptance by their parents, which hurt my heart. I feel that I am doing my part to support the LGBT community and increase understanding.
I admit that part of my motivation for doing the LGBT radio show is to demonstrate to my gay son how much I support him and wish to be an advocate for the LGBT community. To date, he has not listened to my show. I cannot force him to do so. I must accept this thing I cannot change and remember I can only control my own actions and no one else’s.
Learning about other people and what motivates them is one of my passions. This radio show provided me a vehicle to pursue a passion. I realize that I was lucky to have this opportunity come into my orbit, and that this particular activity may not be everyone’s cup of tea. We can make certain opportunities for ourselves, however. The more doors we enter, the more doors open to us. We can do guest blogs, submit freelance articles, volunteer. What passion will you pursue next?
11. Consciousness Raising for Adults
Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.
—Benjamin Franklin
My passion is writing. When things got rough in my life, I journaled. It was one way of working through my angst and worry. I also immersed myself in books as a means of escape. I was a voracious reader as a child, which certainly helped me then and in my professional life. Books provided me windows to wider worlds, fueled my imagination, and expanded my vocabulary. Like anything else, the more one writes, the better one becomes at it. Writing is an important part of my identity.
Journals are widely available today, and come in many sizes. Some people I know journal on their cell phones or computers. It is an effective vehicle for processing emotions, learning, and putting things in perspective. Journaling was mandatory when I was in rehab, and I would wager that most therapists and life coaches recommend keeping a journal. If I reread a journal of mine, it helps me see the progress I have made on a wide array of issues and goals, as well as the lessons I forgot but want to employ again.
Books help us stretch our minds and perspectives. I have wanted to contribute to society’s dialogue on matters of importance to me, like combating racism, raising children, and self-actualization.
I dabbled in freelance writing when I was an at-home mom. I had put my legal career on hold because I wanted to do the best possible job raising my children. I also had a Norman Rockwellian notion that my childhood would have been different if my mother had not been in the working world.
The first time I was published was a big rush for me. It was in Parenting magazine. I had sent in a cathartic essay entitled, “How to Maintain Your Self-Esteem as a Stay-at-Home Mom.” I did not follow the protocol, which typically involves sending a query letter to an editor first to see if the publication was interested in my idea, but got lucky that the right editor read my piece and liked it. This first article led to more assignments and submissions. At one point, I was on staff at a local magazine as a contributing writer and editor.
Then I set my sights higher. A lifelong dream of mine has been to get my own book published.
I got my first adult nonfiction book published, and learned how not to go about things in the publishing world. After my book, Not the Cleaver Family: The New Normal in Modern American Families,8 was published, the publisher promptly went out of business. Just my luck. But because the book was such a labor of love about something for which I possess a great deal of interest, I enjoyed writing it. And I learned more about book publishing and marketing.
I interviewed hundreds of people for my book, and did most of my own marketing. I cared deeply about the subject of how the modern American family has changed in this decade and raising consciousness about microaggressions and indignities that continue today. People who belonged to the quickly emerging demographics I covered resonated with the issues explored and experiences chronicled in the book. Those who did not, but wanted to learn more about them, expressed elevated thinking as a result of my book. I was able to parlay the book into some fantastic speaking engagements.9
I wrote about mixed-race families, families led by same-sex couples, adoptive families, couples with singletons, single parents, and people who are child-free by choice. The subject of changes in the American family seemed to strike a chord, especially with those whose parents had been marginalized by society, as mine were, to a certain extent. My book talks have elicited dialogue that has both augmented my understanding and humbled me.
Initially, I was hesitant about being self-revelatory in my published writing. I rarely dealt willingly with issues of race for the first two decades of my life. I clearly do not appear to be white, though my father is Caucasian. Although my mother is Southeast Asian, most people assume I am Latina, and people speak to me in Spanish at least once a week. I did not want to draw attention to my differences and feeling of otherness and alienation. But gathering the stories of others whose families did not fit the cookie-cutter mold of a generation ago helped put my experiences in perspective. Exploring my racial identity was a luxury I had not previously afforded myself. As a result, I missed out on so much cultural richness. Once I dropped the self-consciousness of being biracial and shared with others of similar heritage, I experienced a catharsis of sorts. Completing my book was an affirming experience.
I learned to stop worrying about what others would think. This book is evidence of that. What would you do, if you were able to let go of being concerned with what other people thought of you?
What are some issues you care deeply about? You could start small by drafting an essay or short article about the object of your passion. Getting published today is much easier than when I started. There is an abundance of online opportunities and directories that tell you which publications accept which types of articles. Self-publishing books is simpler than it ever has been. My local independent bookstore has a self-publishing service. Amazon allows writers to publish e-books directly online.
If you decide to self-publish, you likely will have to do all of the marketing of your work. There are lots of online resources to help you navigate this necessary aspect of being an author today. Traditional publishers often help authors with marketing and sales, among other things, but they also expect authors to take a certain amount of initiative.
You can be heard by calling or writing to your public officials. Consider letters to editors or op-eds. Or communicate with your feet. Being part of a women’s march was one of the most powerful experiences I have had in the last decade.
If you have something to say, say it! It is not too late. Laura Ingalls Wilder did not have her Little House books published until she was in her 60s. George Eliot’s classic novel, Middlemarch, was published when she was 55 years old. Bram Stoker wrote Dracula when he was 50. Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes came out when he was 66.
You, too, can be a literary late bloomer. As late bloomer William S. Burroughs said in his novel, Junky,10 “When you stop growing, you start dying.”
; 12. Consciousness Raising for Children
If a story is in you, it has got to come out.
—William Faulkner
Publishing my first children’s book allowed me to return to looking at the world with a sense of childlike wonder again. Writing books that I wish had been available to me as a child was partially a healing exercise. The children’s books I have written have dealt with issues close to my heart.
My first published children’s book, Mommy, Why’s Your Skin So Brown?, is a consciousness-raising book based on my experience of being frequently mistaken for the nanny of my lighter-skinned children. It grew out of an article I wrote for my local newspaper entitled, “Being a Parent Isn’t Always Apparent,”11 in which I implored readers not to let their curiosity overwhelm their manners. Several Washington, D.C., preschools distributed my article to their parent communities. I searched for a book to help me talk about the annoying and embarrassing situation my children and I often found ourselves in when strangers and even professionals assumed my children were not mine. I could not find one, so I wrote it myself. I did not want my children to internalize any feeling of something being wrong with our family, as I had felt as a child. This book, and open, continuing dialogue with my children, was part of my effort to prevent that sentiment from taking hold in my nuclear family.
It took me years to get it published. It actually was published during the year I turned 50. I had sent my draft to a few publishers, with no luck. A childhood friend then shared that she had gotten her children’s book published with an indie publisher of children’s books, Mirror Publishing, and suggested I give them a try, using her name as an introduction. The editor there liked my book and took it on. He said they accepted about 6 percent of the manuscripts submitted, so I felt fortunate to have made it through the door.
Mirror Publishing also accepted my second children’s book, Healing for Hallie, about the importance of expressing one’s feelings, something that took me decades to learn, at least when it came to things about which I felt guilt or shame. When I was a child in Catholic parochial school, there were some girls who were not allowed to come to my home because my parents were divorced and therefore excommunicated by the church at that time. I never told anyone then about the feelings this brought me. It would have been much healthier had I expressed how I felt, rather than carrying a yoke of shame for so many years. I suppose I wrote this book to my younger self.
I employed my friend’s daughter to create the beautiful, evocative watercolor illustrations that accompany the text. Parents and social workers have told me that they have used this book with children to facilitate communication about emotions. When I read this book to schoolchildren, I am delighted to hear their comments.
I adore children and feel so blessed when I have opportunities to read my book to children in schools and bookstores. The message in my book about sensitivity to differences and the effect careless comments may have on others was so heartfelt, that reading the story aloud and putting it into the universe brought me joy.
Children are like sponges. They absorb so much around them. I would like to be part of the goodness children absorb. My first book may save someone from unintentionally inflicting harm via their words, or making false assumptions. My second children’s book is used by parents, teachers, and therapists to help children process their feelings.
When I discuss my books with young people, more often than not, they will ask me questions about writing. So many of them like to create stories and want to know what it takes to be an author. Perhaps I will make a difference in a young person’s life in this way.
Think about creative endeavors that bring you joy. Or that could do so, if you tried them. Sometimes we, especially as women raising children or in other caretaker roles, get so caught up in meeting the needs of others that we forget what we need. Make a list of things that elevate you. Start one of them. Today.
13. Empowering Women
What we think, we become.
—Buddha
Once I found my voice, I began cohosting women’s empowerment and writing retreats. My retreat partner, Dr. Nicole Cutts, and I help women to develop as writers and speak their truth.
Each woman at our retreats wants to be a writer. By the time they leave, we make them say, “I am a writer.” If we do not believe in ourselves, who will?
For the closing ceremony at our retreats, we had participants write on pieces of paper what holds them back from pursuing their writing dreams in earnest. Then we burned the papers, resolving to break through these obstacles. We set writing goals and signed up to be each other’s accountability partners. We started a closed Facebook group to encourage each other and share ideas, tips, accomplishments, and frustrations. Several attendees have gone on to publish their dream books, and more are on the way.
There were tears from most of the participants with whom I met in private sessions during the retreat. So many of our sisters are walking wounded. There is a pervasive sentiment of not feeling good enough. Wake up! We are all perfectly imperfect and we all have scars and baggage. But the past need not define us. One cannot achieve what one will not try to do. I don’t seek to survive this life; I seek to thrive.
Another way I seek to empower myself and other women is via political activism. During the last election, many of the women I knew felt fear that our commander in chief was known to have abused women, and the effect his election may have on our society. Gathering a group of women to join the Women’s March on Washington helped us all feel less helpless. We continued to meet after the march to discuss other ways of making our voices heard. Writing a letter to our congresspeople or calling their offices were ways we sought to make a difference. I participate in a weekly “Black Lives Matter” vigil in my predominantly white neighborhood when I can. Taking action is important, to effect change both in our society and within ourselves.
In our current political climate, taking action is perhaps even more important. I watched with horror when the white supremacists descended on Charlottesville, Virginia, a place for me of collegiality and learning. I attended law school there and it holds a special place in my heart. I shed tears learning of a young woman who was killed by a white supremacist angry at her opposition. I was stunned that citizens in a Jewish temple were surrounded by neo-Nazis in their place of worship. I cannot stand by and thereby be complicit in the hatred. German pastor Martin Niemöller’s admonition continues to be true:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.12
There are many ways to combat hate and make a difference. We can take on racism and bigotry when we encounter it, one conversation at a time. We can confront hateful language when we hear it, in a respectful way. Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield provides some ideas for how we can make a difference:
For some your response may be reaching out to connect with those threatened, across lines of religion, race, class, sexual orientation. For some it may mean reaching out to the individuals and groups who are promoting hate and prejudice. For some it may mean educating others. For some it may mean political organizing, or activism, or standing up in peaceful ways in the midst of heated demonstrations.13
I hope to do my part in eradicating hate in our society, for my children’s sake. The vitriol is reaching alarming levels.
We are not helpless and we have the ability to stand up and be heard. If not us, then who?
14. Sculpting a New Life
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.
—Pablo Pic
asso
I find creating art to be meditative. For years, I had wanted to try sculpture. I finally found a class nearby that fit my schedule and my budget.
The instructor had us start by sculpting skulls. I had no idea that sculpting a human figure required awareness of bone and muscle structure. We received a mini course in anatomy during our first class. Sculpture takes much more knowledge and finesse than I had thought.
Later in the session, nude models were introduced to the class. It was startling at first, for me to see the models disrobe so nonchalantly and let a dozen people in a circle examine their bodies and try to replicate them in clay. The models’ confidence, while stunning, was inspiring. It helped me shed another layer of self-consciousness.
The other students in the class were more adept than I was at sculpting realistic looking figures. At first I felt dismay. I learned not to compare my work negatively against that of others. Every real artist was an amateur first. We are where we are. A short version of the Serenity Prayer is “Oh, well.”
I kept a couple of pieces I made during the course. They mostly elicit chuckles from visitors. The skull I made comes out at Halloween. It is slightly scary.
I had envisioned making grand sculptures for display in my home. I discovered I was not very good at it. I am glad I tried it, though. It increased my appreciation for fine sculpture—by others.
I also took the opportunity in my intentionally slower lifestyle to indulge my love of painting. I opened an Etsy online shop and even was able to sell a painting or two. At the least, I created things I considered beautiful and decorated my home with them. I am a little bit more adept at painting than sculpting.
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