Joan Bauer's Journal

September 11th

The strongest emotions we have as people are hate and love.  Both, if we open ourselves to them fully, will change us and the world around us.  Of the two, I believe love is the stronger, although it might not make nearly as much noise as hate and it certainly won't get as many headlines.  Today in New York is as beautiful a day as it was twelve years ago.  I'm in my garden.  I love working with flowers.  I've come to believe that beauty is in this world to remind us of the good.  I pull down a high branch with huge pink blossoms and look at the bright center of these flowers, the petals still sturdy in September.  I think about the September eleventh of twelve years ago.  I can't capsulize the time, that would trivialize it, but if one theme has stayed with me all these years it's about being  a peacemaker.  Not someone who just loves peace -- we all love the absence of conflict -- but someone who rolls up their sleeves and says I'm going to get in there and try to make a difference.  Sometimes hope feels a bit out of reach, we have to pull it down and look at it closely.  Today, may we do that.  Pull it down, look at it square and work with all our hearts for a better, more beautiful world.  

 

My Pseudonym

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm letting the world know that my next novel will be written under a pseudonym -- either J. K. Bowlings or Erasmus Breach, I haven't picked the name yet, but it's best to speak the truth now because in this news-in-a-nanosecond/Wiki leaks age, someone will find out.  Surely, we all know this.    

It's possible that Nordstrom's would find out first -- prior to this AM, I'd not thought of Nordstrom's as a key info source, but according to the NY Times front page article, Attention, Shoppers: Store is Tracking Your Cell, it appears that Nordstrom's cares so much about who walks into their stores that they were gathering cell phone data on everyone.  

I discussed this pseudonym issue with my daughter who said, "Mom, it would kill you for people not to know you wrote a book." She's right, I suppose, but there's something quite lovely about cloaking one's literary self in a cape and writing, writing as if it were your first ever book.  But growing up Lutheran as I did, I think the guilt would kill me, and the advance would not be as big, and as Abraham LIncoln said, "No man has a good enough memory to be a successful liar."  And if I was in the presence of someone who had read the pseudonymous novel and was unfairly critiquing it -- I would have to Say Something. Silence would not be an option.   

It's too bad that you just can't slap a pen name on a novel without having to build up the ruse. I thought of spelling my name backwards as a fun party joke, and Naoj Reuab does sound like a fascinating character, but here I am.  Joan.  Writing away.  I feel so much better coming clean. 

**Here's the link to the Times piece.  

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/15/business/attention-shopper-stores-are-tracking-your-cell.html?ref=todayspaper

 

In Our DNA

Protecting kids.  It's there inside of us.  We know it's our responsibility, whether they are our kids or somebody else's. The front page of the New York Times today showed a boy in Chicago holding up a sign:  DON'T SHOOT.  I WANT TO GROW UP.  Today Sandy Hook students go back to school. Violence is everywhere in movies, in Internet games. There is a scary thing called crisis fatigue that can come upon people as awful news pummels our spirits and it seems like nothing can be done.  It's too hard, too painful.  We need to bar the gates and doors to that, and make sure we stay alert and caring.  I have a friend who just returned from Uganda where she introduced the powerful concept of a tribe encircling a child after they are born as a sign of commitment and protection.  Whether we circle or speak or act in other practical ways, protecting kids, keeping them safe isn't somebody else's job.  It's ours.  It's there in our DNA -- self-replicating, fundamental, and distinctive.

Our Kids

The school shooting in Newtown CT happened to our kids, to our teachers.  The loss is too deep, it can’t be understood, but what we must do in their memory and in the name of rightness and reason is to draw a line in the sand and say, No More.  Everyone can do something.  People can adopt a school and work to make it secure.  People can look no further than their own families, their own children, and honestly ask, are we watching, reading, playing games with too many violent images?  We’re going to stop.  Colossal tragedy enlarges the heart, we must step out, everybody, and look for ways to help others.  What do we want to leave for our kids?  What do we want to leave for the world? What happened on Friday morning was evil.  Edmund Burke said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”  May we be deliberate about this and insist that this impossible attack make us better, deeper, truer people.  May we act now in small and big ways, may we show our kids we’re serious about entering into the enormity of this crisis.   

 

 

Words for the Storm

A bad storm like Sandy keeps coming long after it stops.  We're left with the wreckage and the clean up and the ghastly feeling, and all the while trying to hold onto hope.  I've always had a bone to pick with Emily Dickinson who said, "Hope is the thing with feathers..."  I suppose some hope can be blown away by the least little breeze, but hope, real hope, the kind you need in a storm, needs to be made of steel.

IRON ORE

COKE

FLUX

MOLTEN IRON

That's what makes steel, all of those ingredients either extracted, crushed, purified, or melted down:  Iron ore is found in mines, coke is made from crushed and washed coal, flux is a term for the minerals used to collect impurities during the making of steel and iron, molten iron is all about turning up the heat in a blast furnace. 

The strength we need is like iron ore -- we have to go into dark places to find it sometimes.  Grief is like coke, crushing us for a while and then using that crushed part in new ways.  I think hope is a lot like flux, it helps collect impurities, it helps us go through the tough process, and it aids us in growing stronger.  Tough times are like molten iron, melting us down in the heat of challenge.  But together, this process makes steel, one of the strongest compounds in the world. 

It's been said that the greatest strengths grow out of weakness, the greatest trees have weathered the biggest storms and their roots have gone deep.  To find strength in the midst of trial is a gift.  Here are words of strength given to a granddaughter by her grandfather, words he wrote after a tornado leveled his home, words she carried around with her during the worst time in her life.  This is from my newest novel, Almost Home. 

When you don't think you can keep going,

You might be right,

But just in case you're wrong,

Keep marching.

When you're flat out and don't know what to do,

It might be a while before you know,

But don't give up,

Keep marching.

If your feet are sore,

Keep going.

If you hear a roar,

Keep moving.

When the worst that can happen has come and gone

And you're still standing,

Remember that you won.

 

 

 

 

Made for This

It's not possible, is it?  

1.6 million kids in America are homeless.

16 - 18 million families live at or below the poverty line.

It can't be possible.  Not here.  But it is and it is growing.

I've volunteered in homeless shelters.  And what I remember most are the faces, they  are still carved across my heart.  

We can say it's not right, and then look away.  We don't mean to look away, but life is so complicated, so hard, there are too many undone things in life, there's too much pain.

I believe every person can do something to help.  And the first thing to do is talk about it.  Seriously.  

Talk about the statistics because people don't know. 

The next step is figure out something you can do, write a check -- small or large -- collect toys, volunteer, something.  

Ask your kids -- what can we do?  You might be surprised at their answers.  

Ask your school, a local business, a local organization, a church.  

What can we do?

And then picture a child's face, maybe your child, and now picture them homeless, living in a car, living on the street.

Imagine the fear and the exhaustion.

Imagine living without basic needs. 

Imagine the hole in their lives and how it could be mended.

Imagine being a parent who can't shelter your children.

We think sometimes that we don't have the means, but we do.  We're here to help people who are hurting.  

Just begin.  Then let it build.  Call your elected officials and let them know -- this has to change.

I wrote my latest novel, Almost Home, to show the story of one amazing, resilient girl who loses it all and keeps going.  There were people who helped her, some more than others, but the ones who helped a little strengthened the chain that kept her going.

It's not possible, is it?

1.6 million kids in America are homeless.

16 - 18 million families live at or below the poverty line.

It is, and ordinary people are a big part of the solution.  

We've been made for this. 

The Faces

The faces of Haiti's nightmare stay in the soul and the heart. Our minds can't take it in. We send money, we want to do more, we want the suffering to stop, we want the world to be an easier place -- dear God, we want you to help them!  What can we do?  Amid the news of suffering, after shocks, and looting, I got an email from Crate and Barrel happily announcing their quick kitchen deals at best buy prices.  It was a lovely ad with Martha Stewart colors -- tangerine, light blue, and yellow. Was I updating my kitchen, they wanted to know?  Creating a wedding registry?  No. I was doing none of those things -- I was sitting at my computer, my heart broken over the suffering in Haiti.  I did not give one roaring rip about a silver dollar pancake pan for $29. 99 plus shipping.  I did not want a 24-cup cupcake carrier on sale for $19.95, that's a five dollar savings.  I didn't want a Snow Pup dishcloths set or a 2-piece mini silicone holiday spatula. I wanted to remember the faces.  

It's so fast, this world of ours. Pictures of poverty, despair, Big Macs, war, disaster, orphans, espresso machines. Where do the tough images go when we've clicked to something else? They stay somewhere, don't they? Do they get pureed in with all the other images, the emails, the tweets? There's no way to slow this world down, but perhaps for this day, we can say no. Not today. Today, I'm going to look at the faces of Haiti, and say, that could be my son, my friend, my mother.  These are my brothers and sisters. I ache for them. I've helped, but I've got to do more. So today, I'm tallying up some of Crate and Barrel's best buy prices, writing a check, and sending that money to Haiti. It's a small thing, but small things can have great power tucked inside.   

Don't Give Up

I was in a car accident twenty years ago. A man in a Volvo station wagon rammed into my car. I remember that I had a two page TO DO list when I drove off that morning. I was convinced that my life would go down the toilet if I didn't get everything accomplished on that list. Nothing got done. I wish I'd kept that list to remind me of what's really important.

I thought about this when I got an email from a friend in Houston describing what Hurricane Ike had done. Early this morning the death toll was 28, millions are without power, thousands have been rescued, many are still trapped. The devastation can't be understood. Is it possible that Galveston, Texas is close to gone?  That seems to be the case. We're still reeling from Hannah, still broken by Katrina. So many people in New Orleans are still living in FEMA trailers, hundreds of thousands of school kids in Houston alone will have no schools for an extended time. We all know that life can change so suddenly. We know that, and yet when it happens, we're brought to our knees again and again.  Will the levees hold?  Will the cancer be cured?  Will more banks fold?  Will the pain of so much loss keep us down too long?

There is something about dark times that shakes loose a greater power if we let it. I continue to be astounded by the human spirit that keeps bouncing back. That's what we're seeing now and will continue to see in the weeks, months, and years to come. What can we do now? Write a check. Collect supplies. Pray to be used, pray for the flood ravaged areas. What can we say to those who saw the fury of this storm? We won't turn away -- we promise. Don't give up. Don't give up. Don't give up.

Lord, make us instruments of your peace.