… how do we dance on broken glass?
“Sometimes things break. Sometimes we break them. It’s not the breaking that matters, the how or why. What matters is how we choose to respond to the brokenness. Does it kill us? Does it throw us into a downward spiral of blame and punishment? Or does it help us remember how to love deepest? Does it push us towards compassion and over the hurdle of “rightness’ and ‘wrongness’ into LOVENESS?”
In her essay, “Broken Things”, Kathleen Fleming relates the story of her son who, in his anger, slammed the bathroom door hard enough to dislodge the full-length mirror on the other side. In shock and surprise, Fleming observes what happened, secures the pets so they won’t cut their feet, and then goes into the bathroom and sits with her son. After the tears and the hugs and the reassurances, Fleming and her son agree to clean up the broken glass, together. “It was careful work,” she writes. “It was thoughtful work.”
I know. I know. You don’t have time to click on the link to an essay by a blogger mom with a kid who’s getting an experiential lesson in Anger (with a capital A), but maybe you will do it anyway. The piece is really short and packed with the kind of Mama Love we all need, the kind we all wish we had … the kind we ourselves might not have been equipped to give. Consider this my little Mother’s Day gift and let’s move on.
Once again, as it came time to prepare another post, I found myself feeling battered by the windstorm/wildfire/tornado/hurricane/tsunami (call it what you will) of shock & awe that makes up the daily news. What (I ask myself), can you share that won’t overload your readers and cause them to run screaming from the room, when what you want is for us all to take a deep breath, pull up our Big Kid Underpants and continue to RESIST with all our hearts? No matter how hard I tried to corral my thoughts and prioritize what I wanted to share, I couldn’t seem to bring it together until just now when I realized that, aside from Fleming, it had been men who impressed me most by standing with and for their values these past few weeks.
Let’s begin with the death of Pope Francis. Catholic or not, many of us held this gentle, humble man in high regard. I will not forget the feeling I carried from our nation’s capitol lawn the morning of September 24th 2015, where I had shown up shortly after sunrise with thousands of others to catch a glimpse of him as he smiled and waved and spoke a greeting and a blessing to us all (believers and not) but “especially the children”. In closing he said: “And I ask you all, please, to pray for me. And if amongst you there are some who don’t believe, or can’t pray, I ask you please, to wish good …” Yes, Wish Good, no matter what.
On Easter Sunday, April 20th, 2025 just hours before his final departure, he said:
“Let us not yield to the logic of weapons and rearming … peace is never made with arms, but with outstretched hands and open hearts.”
And then On May 8th came the traditional white smoke and the announcement of the first U.S. born pontiff, former Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, now to be known as Pope Leo XIV. His first words to the assembled masses were “Peace be with you”. Appointed as a Cardinal in 2023 by Pope Francis, Leo (at 69) comes with a gentle smile and twinkle in his eye, an impressive record of service to humanity, dual citizenship with Peru whose people he served for many years, and loyalty to the Chicago White Sox. I am encouraged by his words: “We have to look together how to be a missionary Church, building bridges, dialogue, always open to receiving with open arms for everyone … “
Everyday there are those who reach and stretch and open. Courage IS contagious. All is Not Lost. Sometimes, as we’re making our way through the broken glass, it’s hard to remember that. But let’s try. How about Illinois Governor JB Pritzker, a chubby white American billionaire whose voice sparkles with humor, heart and conscience? If you missed hearing what he had to say to the good folks of New Hampshire, you can check it out here. Words like: “I understand the tendency to give in to despair right now … but despair is an indulgence that we cannot afford in the times upon which history turns. Never before in my life have I called for mass protests, for mobilization, for disruption. But I am now.”
And speaking of courage … how about these words from Mohsen Mahdawi, the young Palestinian graduate student raised in a refugee camp in the occupied West Bank, who, as he was about to finalize his American citizenship, was grabbed and “detained” by ICE. Upon his release, thanks to the mobilization of his fellow Vermonters and the integrity of a Vermont judge, he looked directly into the cameras and said: “To President Trump and his cabinet: I am not afraid of you.” (watch him here.) How I wish the men and women elected to serve in our country’s Congress might find the courage to say the same. Maybe we should all practice saying it. To President Trump and his cabinet: I am not afraid of you.
Some news doesn’t get much coverage … like the prayerful day-long conversation in the spirit of Martin Luther King that happened on the Capitol Steps Sunday, April 27th. It started with Cory Booker and Hakim Jeffries, who spoke about their experience in the Black Church, their deep-seated faith in America, and the connection between the two. By ones and twos over the course of the next 11 hours, dozens of everyday people as well as some fellow members of congress joined them on the steps, and many more stopped to watch, listen, and engage in conversation.
I was reminded of the late Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day”. Like her, I don’t know exactly what a prayer is, but I do know how to pay attention … Tell me, (she says) what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? And that reminded me of the Native American story of the wise elder telling his grandson about the two wolves that live inside each of us, fighting for dominence. To the boy’s question “Which one wins?” the elder replies. “The one you feed.”
And the very next day … a Moral Mondays gathering with that ‘good trouble maker’, the great preacher man William Barber, getting arrested (again) for his commitment to the poor, the vulnerable and the marginalized who are as much a part of the fabric of our country as the rich and famous.
And speaking of getting arrested … Let’s not overlook what happened to Newark’s mayor, Ras Baraka. Publicity stunt? I don’t think so. Call it what you will. Did it help to raise awareness? I hope so. And did you know that Baraka’s parents are renowned poets? Maybe you will take the time to listen to his dad, Amiri Baraka’s dramatic reading of “Somebody Blew up America.”
This is becoming a much longer post than I had originally imagined. It would probably be wise to stop now. But there are two more men that I want you to know about right now … for the sake of balance. So … if you have the wherewithal to stick with it for a few more minutes, I say Thank You. And if not, I understand. Here goes.
The May 6th Hartmann Report bears this headline: “A Nation Without Empathy Is Just a Crime Syndicate With a Flag”. The full paragraph the title references says: A nation without empathy is not a nation at all; it’s merely a conspiracy to elevate the powerful while crushing the weak, a crime syndicate with a flag and an army. This ultimate expression of a governmental system based on the repudiation of empathy is called fascism, oligarchy, or authoritarianism.
I became quite enamored of this particular piece and followed the link to two of Hartmann’s Hidden History series, Rediscovering Humanity’s Ancient Way of Life and (his newest) The Demise of the Middle Class – and How to Rescue Our Future. If you’re interested at all, the links provide provocative summaries. But it was the exploration of empathy that brought me back to my friend Paul Susi, a Portland activist, educator, and theater artist whose work in the world is always about empathy.
Paul’s latest project has been helping folks acquire, or re-acquire, the IDs they need in order to be considered for just about any social services assistance. A few months ago he started sending letters to friends to share some of what he was doing. To quote from his missive of March 31st, “Writing about the work I do is an important way for me to ground myself and stay focused on what’s happening … not asking for more money, not urging you to vote for anybody. I’m trying to help us both remember that we’re connected, no matter what.” This particular letter speaks directly to that empathy thing we were just talking about. You won’t be sorry if you take a minute to read Paul’s narration of two incidents, one in Maine, one in Portland. Let’s not forget that we are all connected … no matter what. If you want to know more about Paul, you can check him out here. His theater work is amazing.
AND if you’ve been wondering what you can do to make a difference … have you heard about the Five Calls App? This comes from my Portland Raging Grannies friend … “It’s the easiest to use as an app on your phone, but you can also do it by website: 5calls.org.” Thanks much, dear Cheryl.
And this from my long-time Quaker friend. Thank you, Annie. It’s on my calendar.
Film Showing & Benefit – The Palestine Exception
The Palestine Exception, directed by local filmmakers, Jan Haaken and Jennifer Ruth, will be shown at the Clinton Street Theater (2522 SE Clinton St., Portland) on Thursday, May 29 at 7:00 pm. This powerful documentary tells the story of campus protests across the US that demanded divestment from companies doing business with Israel and an end to the war on Gaza, and the waves of crackdown that resulted. These protests broke a long-standing taboo in academia around criticism of Israel. A variety of voices explain the history of censorship around criticism of Israel and Zionism, and what is at stake in these protests.
This showing is sponsored by the Quaker Palestine-Israel Network of Multnomah Friends Meeting and proceeds will go to the American Friends Service Committee Gaza Relief Fund.
Tickets are $10.00 online or at the door.
If you’ve hung in there with me all this way, Thank You. And just for “good measure” … one more poem and a bit of music.
Presence
Melissa Shaw-SmithThe year has rocked this world to its roots.
What if for one day each being put down
their burdens, their words of hate, their inhumanity
and breathed in the presence?
Stopped fighting for history, for fears, hopes, dreams
and stood facing the morning sun
letting the warmth of the moment
and the next, the next, accumulate like dust at their feet
Listened instead of spoke, acknowledged truth,
embraced silence.What if for one day each being acknowledged the fear
and let it go? Suspended beliefs
opened their arms, drew strength
through earth, grass, rock, sand
Found the sparrow singing from a lone bush
the small heart-shaped cloud
Felt the currents of air wash over them, mingle
with the breath, and let the seams unravel
borders blend, walls dissolve
and be
one.
Until next time, with Love,
Sulima
Again Sulima, you out did yourself! Thank you for your wonderful share!