It’s not that I don’t want to say hi from time to time here, but dammit, I just never get there. It’s in the to-do of all to-do lists. Honestly, these days, when I write, the good stuff goes to my joannecgerstner.substack.com or borahaeBTS.substack.com accounts.
Please subscribe!
Simple: I have a lot subscribers there, many of the them paid. and that is a great motivator. Honesty! Yes!
But all is good. Humming along in life. So don’t feel bad if you don’t see me here a lot. You know where to find me. I’m teaching, writing, giving speeches, and swimming like a fish with a side of leg pressing 200. Because that is how we do.
Hello, hello! Let’s have a quickie chat about some Open Court things. This weekly newsletter is a project from my heart, by way of my brain, then sent to my 5 official typing fingers. (Yes, I do not type with official Catholic school-seal-of-approval style. I made my own way, which felt right, and won the epic battle with Sr. Ann in typing class. I told her typing was about product and efficiency, not style. She put me to the test, and I won. Boom. RIP to that sweet woman.)
Anyways. Back to Open Court.
This shebang started back in the olden days of summer 2021. A world where LeBron James was not the scoring king of the NBA, Roger Federer, Tiger Woods and Serena Williams were not yet retired, but hella breaking down. My beloved BTS were not on a hiatus as a group. Those days.
Meta, the corporate artist formerly known as Facebook, asked if I wanted to partner to create content for a project they were building. AKA, a journalism clone of Substack. I said yes. FB paid me to do my thing, and we had a lovely run until Mark Zuckerberg took his toys and moved into the metaverse. No writers live there, just avatarring. Life is full circle, and I am now on Substack, with Open Court. Plus, there is a new baby, Borahae BTS, for my Bangtan Amis. Facebook is my ex, one on lovely, speaking terms, but no longer supporting my work. Fair enough.
A number of you have reached out since the big move to Substack, offering kind support and encouragement. There are weekly asks how to subscribe, as in cash money. You want to support what I do, because you enjoy it and believe in me.
So here we are. I’ve created subscriber tiers for monthly, yearly (a break on the monthly total), and a founder’s buy in. Some of my content, like the archives and bonus pieces, will be subscriber only. Our Friday goodness, and my occasional mid-week gotta-talk-about this ish will pop in for free. Please consider being a general newsletter subscriber (free), and/or if you want to help contribute to this effort, follow this link.
It all sounds too insane, as the words leave my typing fingers.
I met the Pope. I spoke to the Pope, and he answered me back. We shook hands, and looked into each others’ eyes. He blessed me. We smiled. I freaked out.
The Vatican – the side where it’s all business and no tourists.
The last three days here in Rome, part of an insanely quick trip, probably – nah, definitely – will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I was invited by the Vatican to be a delegate to their Sport for All conference, a gathering of 250 people from 40 countries to discuss the future of sports. How can we, the athletes, coaches, management, academics, and media, create more opportunities to allow more humans to simply play? The need for physical activity for health, valuable mental health aspects, and clear outcomes of personal development stemming from sports are paramount.
The Vatican has its own athletic department, a small but growing enterprise, and the Holy See decided to take the lead in bringing us all together to learn and discuss things. The head of the International Olympic Committee (Thomas Bach), the head of the International Paralympic Committee (Andrew Parsons), and many other champion athletes (able-bodied and para), ethicists and clergy with interest in sports, presented to us.
The concept of “Sport for Good” is not new. But the urgency, predicated by a world with big dark spots of war, 100 million and growing refugees, climate change, so many post-pandemic bumps, and economic/political uncertainty, mean we need to find positive things to help build community. Sports can certainly do that, from the lost little ones in a refugee center bonding over soccer, to the impact of our biggest sports leagues as economic engines and serious social influencers. The power is unlimited, because at its best, it is the harnesses the human spirit.
I learned a lot, and was left with have much to think about. I will state the obvious, the conference was predominantly white male. So being a small minority in the room where it happens, HELLO HAMILTON, was important representation that I was proud to provide. I was there as a former college athlete, a current busted adult athlete, woman in a male dominated field of sports journalism, and representing my amazing people at Michigan State’s School of Journalism.
Signing the declaration. Clearly not Catholic school-standard penmanship. Sorry, not sorry.
But yeah, I hear you – WHEN IS SHE GETTING TO THE GOOD STUFF?
Oh. You mean the hour-long private tour of the Sistine Chapel, with the head of the Vatican Museum explaining everything? Or the fact that I laid down on the steps of the Sistine’s altar and looked up for a long time to absorb the mastery of Michelangelo’s color explosion? The fact there were photos taken inside of the chapel that I am not allowed to show you ever ever ever? Hee hee. I did a serious Musei Vaticani pinky swear to keep that cool. Sorry tourists, the no photo, no talking rules got suspended. Been there, done that. (Oh, they know you are sneaking photos on your cell phones. Y’all not the slicksters you think you are.) I almost felt like the first female Cardinal, came in the front door like a VIP. I vote that they include women in the sequel (another Hamilton reference. Google it.)
Going inside the Sistine Chapel like a boss. So of course, I took a photo here.
That was cool.
Or the amazing dinner in the closed Vatican Museum, just for us, with the dreamiest mushroom risotto I have ever eaten? We had nice guys from Chile at our table serving us all the wine.
Maybe it was the private Mass, in a roped-off part of St. Peter’s, with like 10 priests and a Cardinal? It was in French, Italian, English and Spanish, so I was balling at a 75 percent language clip. (The Italian is getting better, un poco de Espanol.) I’ve never seen behind the main altar, as the public is not allowed in that area. I’ve peeked around the barrier, hoping to check it out. This time, I was sitting right there, staring at the most beautiful altar of gold. Humbling to turn around and see all of St. Peter’s behind you.
Yeah, that’s quite an art statement.
And now we get to the Pope. Yeah, Il Papa.
We knew there was a strong possibility we would meet him, thanks to the conference program, but things took a turn when things started on Thursday. Pope Francis, 85, is in fragile health. The conference organizers warned us that he may not be able to make our meeting, because he was not feeling well. I was bummed, but clearly understood. Getting to even see him from afar would be a bonus round on an already intense 48 hours. I did not want them dragging out an ill old man to meet me. I don’t need him to be a show. That’s not right.
Thursday afternoon rolled around, and I noticed the security started seriously ramping up in and around our conference center. I peeked into the huge auditorium/church by us, and indeed, they were setting up the Pope’s visit with us. The big white chair was out. The big boy was coming to us!
Setting up for the Pope.
The final word after lunch came from the conference organizer, that yes, we will be seeing Pope Francis. They were not sure how strong he was, so perhaps he will only shake the hands of a few people. It would be all up to him.
We were told two things: think of what you want to say to the Pope, before your brain freezes, and NO SELFIES. The Pope is not down with the selfies.
We went down into the auditorium space, and it was like WHOA. THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING. THE POPE IS COMING.
For a little context, I am not really actively religious. I grew up with 13 years of Catholic schooling, in a Catholic family. I have relatives that are nuns. My uncle is a journalist who writes a lot about Catholic issues.
I made my own decision, a long time ago, not to actively support something that does not support me as a woman in a modern world or has amends to make for abuse. You can still believe in things and be spiritual without being into the corporation.
Every school I went to had a picture of the Pope hanging somewhere in our eye-space. John Paul II being shot was a seriously scary event in my childhood.
So I know the Pope stuff. I never had meeting or seeing the Pope on my bucket list, but c’mon, I was never going to turn it down. He is one of the most important leaders in the world, and words from him can rock the planet.
All of that was running through my mind when we were anxiously waiting for him to come. I was still debating what I was going to say to him. I was jokingly thinking I should have laid odds on me personally meeting the Pope ahead of BTS. Both snowballs in hell, but I did have the RJ keychain on my work backpack in the building, so Bangtan did make it to the Vatican. Kept it #NamJin with Koya on my suitcase. (Inside BTS drop for my chingus.)
It got quiet. And then we all stood – he was here. He walked in slowly, bent over, on a sturdy cane. He was all in plain white robes. There were Swiss Guards, and other security, everywhere. He looked both frail, yet super strong. His body is not strong, but his spirit is huge.
Here he comes!
He was 30 feet from me. Francis sat down on the big white chair – and smiled. His eyes were twinkling. He seemed truly happy to see us. I could feel his energy and vibes. He almost seemed like he wanted you to tell him a joke. He wanted to play.
The room became electric, a mix of all of us being excited, nervous, and straight up freaked out. I was thinking about it from his perspective – how does it feel to have that kind of impact on people? How does he handle being the focus of all of these big emotions?
Pope has a nice white chair.
Francis seemed unbothered. He’s just a sweet old man, chilling on his big chair, getting ready to give us a speech. He spoke in Italian, with a big video screen giving us the English version of his remarks. It was a well-written and strongly-delivered speech, talking about the good of sports, and how we all need to fight against the dehumanization of athletes and abuse stemming from greed. He spoke clearly and we got the message.
After the speech, the line to meet him started up. The VIPs, such as Bach from the IOC, went first. We were in the fourth row, so I figured he would meet them and then peace out. Some humans, who clearly are getting massive negative karma points, chose to bum-rush the line to cut ahead. They got sent back with a stern not today pal by the Swiss Guards. No mess would be had.
The Pope told the main guard, after the VIP’s rolled through, that he wanted to greet every single one of us. OH BOY. That is when I realized this was really going down. I finalized my thoughts – I was going to ask him to pray for me, my family and my friends. And thank him. Others in my row were preparing longer intentions or comments, but I thought I needed to keep it short, simple and frankly, in a place where I would not screw it up. Keep it simple, and not try to get crazy in the Italian, German, Spanish that he speaks/understands. Went with English, thinking like a Tweet.
The moments we were in the queue, shuffling ahead one by one, were like a surreal movie. The Pope was getting closer and closer. I could see his happy eyes. I heard his laugh. I saw every person, right after the interaction look like they were mentally gone. Some were emotional. Reminded me of the scene in Indiana Jones where people had their hearts snatched out of their chests. Minus the blood, paganism, and Spielberg. But you get it.
Francis has a big smile and a fun laugh.
People gave him soccer balls, books, pins, and other stuff. He accepted the gifts, and then handed it all off. PRO TIP: Don’t give the Pope stuff. He really doesn’t want it. He is going to humor you, because he is a good guy. But be cool.
I snapped photos on the way up, getting my friends from behind with the Pope. Our deal was I would get their photos, and they would get me because they would be off to the side and done.
Getting closer, and closer….
Well dear Open Courter, I did my job, and yeah, they totally melted down and forgot to get my photo. They had the worst brain crash of all time. They feel terrible. I forgive them, because the Pope would want that – hah. But, !!!!!!!!!!!
My friend Jane was done with the Pope, stepped aside, and then there he was. Glowing in perfect white, right in front of me. Smiling, big dark brown eyes, and reaching his hand out. I literally could feel him with every part of my being.
There is no bowing or all the other weird stuff people did. Francis wants you to treat him like a normal human being. Just a person to person, he’s trying to be accessible and not a deity.
I stepped forward, and as soon as his hand touched mine, I choked up. I was totally good until he touched me. I literally felt my throat closing and I was going to cry. Emotionally overwhelmed. I’ve been through a lot of big good and bad things over the past year, and it all hit me like a truck. I was struck by lightning, I was having the Pope hold my hand. The photos from the Vatican photographer are epic. I look like an idiot in all of them, freaking out.
Off Vatican TV, me and the Pope. I have official photos coming later.
I got my words out, getting better as I went. He nodded, smiled, said he blesses me and my family. And thanked me. Smiled again.
And then it was over. The Pope’s staff gave us an official rosary, blessed by him, on the way back from his area.
We all sat down…did that really happen?
It did. I regained my senses, and started beating myself up for not being cooler. If I can talk to Roger Federer, Tiger Woods, Paul Newman and every other big star in the world and be totally cool – why did I go into ARRRRGH! with the Pope?
I needed a day or two to process, but I think I figured it out. I cannot describe it fully, but I have never met anybody with a literal aura. You can feel his goodness. He seems like an incredibly kind, sweet man, somebody who wants to laugh, and is genuinely invested in getting to know you. He was fully present for each person. We all felt like we connected – hard – with him.
You could not help but smile. He left you feeling like you mattered. Like you could hang with him and have a good chat and a laugh. He is open and warm.
Think of how many people meet the Pope. He waves to audiences of hundreds of thousands around the world. Hundreds get private audiences. People faint and cry at the sight of him.
But few get an intimate meet and greet. I am in rare company, and I know it is a big deal. Even for a kid on the run from his organization.
He is the master of making people feel important, even though he is the most important guy in the room. That is an amazing skill.
So that’s the Rome report. I am blessed and holy now. Proceed with caution!
And the we in that above sentence is us. You and me.
Open Court, my platform on Bulletin.com (a sub of Meta aka Facebook), has been going now for a year. The Bulletin project was launched a year ago this past week. This space has been live since July 20, 2021, when we got to know each other through this first piece.
This is Open Court No. 91. Oh yeah, that is a big deal. Seriously. No comic sans, Dan Gilbert-esque sarcasm fonts for that sentence. It is a big damned deal to be here after a year, and yes, my peoples, we will be going for at least another year. You cannot get rid of me that easily. BWAHAHAHAA.
What have I learned in a year? Too much, not enough, and maybe just what I needed to. How’s that for a cafeteria tray, buffet concept of an answer?
Let me explain.
I have learned that 1,000 of you like Open Court enough that you have given me the honor of subscribing. That is a serious thing, because in the newsletter world, and yes, the floor is 100 percent lava in the newsletter game, going from zero to an organically-driven 1k is a sign you are heading in a good direction to build an audience.
So thank you.
YOU, the person who maybe knows me, maybe is related to me (hi Mom!), maybe you don’t know me at all (but you do know BTS), or is along for the ride because you have no idea why yet. All good. All cool. Borahae.
I have learned that you like when I write stuff that is serious, you like when I am a little goofy, you are split on when I write about women’s sports or BTS (the love-hate camps show up), and you are really into tennis and Olympic stuff. You like my opinions more than my original reporting (sniff, sniff, but still going to do some original stuff from time to time).
You like when I swim. I do too. (photo: Joanne Gerstner)
You like my pop culture mix with serious/newsy stuff, and you sometimes question what the hell I am referencing or reading. Yep, I am the witches’ brew of medical stuff, sports, hip hop, GenX touchstones, gardening, travel, cats, books and anxiety about the future. I read a lot. I watch YouTube too much. I probably do not meditate enough. I am fully responsible for my mind wandering into some dark corners of the internet. Like, the people who live for the Toe Bro. Subculture of the medical nerds, who live for the nasty ingrown toenail removals. Really. It’s a thing.
What I don’t know: the magic sweet spot of connecting with all of you as a community on a regular basis. Trying to mainline what you’re thinking, feeling, wanting to know as an audience is both a professional liability and personal curiosity. Where is your mind during Open Court, where are you going with your heart and soul off what I am writing? (Ahem, comment…go ahead and do it!)
Being a woman in a sports media space is a layered thing. I just had this conversation with a friend and colleague of the same tribe. We have the privilege of saying what we want and having people see/listen to us. That is not a small thing. We can make a difference, be the source of light that needs to be beamed into the bad corners or shine up the good stuff. But with that platform comes the thought – do we, as women in sports media, always need to be the one hitting the outrage button to scream about what is wrong? Brittney Griner. Pay inequities in pro sports. NIL benefitting the big boys in football and basketball way more than women’s/non-rev sports. The looming crisis for women maintaining freedom over our own reproductive choices and health. Domestic violence and those who get away with it in sports because of their fame/team ownership. The abuse of us, women in sports media, by the public on social media spaces. (Ask me about my friends on Instagram who need to marry me, see photos of my toes, or ask me about my weight on a daily basis. Oy vey.)
Yeah. It’s a lot, and it’s heavy. It all needs to be blown up.
That is the balancing act I have tried to walk with Open Court. With you. We are walking together, alongside each other, having a conversation that I hope never stops. I am not talking down to you, not saying words at you. I am having an active, real, engaged conversation with you about the things I see, feel and the hamsters running on their wheels in my mind. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry, sometimes we hella disagree. But we are still together, still walking, still wanting the world to be better. Somehow.
I took you along to Paris and Rome with me in June, and we had a lot of fun together doing the stuff and laughing at American tourists. Apparently, you like when I do some travel writing, so I will promise to take you on my upcoming adventures to Philly and Denver. (I know, much more domestic and less exotic. A varied work travel diet is good for the soul.)
We were told a lot of tourist fall down these slick, steep stairs in Siena. I thankfully was not one of them. Whew. (Photo: Joanne Gerstner)
We’ve done live chats, traded comments, direct messages, and all the good things.
Open Court has been super real, and a blessing to watch grow.
We are just getting started. So thank you for coming along for the ride. Thank you for opening the newsletter email, clicking on the link or finding this along the way through social media. It doesn’t matter how you get here – your presence is all that matters.
I ask for your help in growing this space. If you know somebody who would like Open Court, ask them to subscribe by sending them a link. Follow me at @joannecgerstner. Forward the email. Comment. Let me know what you are thinking.
And if you want Open Court to write about something, always know the suggestion box is wide open.
I’ve been really ruminating on the song Arson, by j-hope. The lyrics talk about working really hard to build a successful career, the sacrifices and pain to get to the place you dreamed about. (Link to video below in reccos. It’s also good. Turn on CC’s to English for max happiness.)
You get to the place where you wonder what it all means.
The chorus nails it:
“If anyone asks me
“Right, I lit the flame”
Now I ask myself, choose what
Do I put out the fire, or burn even brighter, yah, yah, yah, yah”
j-hope, here’s my answer: let’s burn this shit up.
This is our Open Court. Let’s keep running it hard.
I feel really weird saying goodbye to 2021. Half of me wants to say get the hell out; while my other half still can’t believe – much less process – the life-changing things that happened. So yeah, when I am old and busted, which may be happening at a faster rate than I want to admit, I will be regaling the childrens with this tale. I intend to be the hip-hop/BTS-playing, Ms. Pac-Man pro, wily tennis player who is nice and warm when I get old. Telling weird stories over and over. Ay-yo.
*taps mic* Is this shit on?
Yep, all the shit was on this year.
I won a lot of stuff, a lovely thing that I ultimately feel pretty ambivalent about. It’s my challenge of heart and soul. I am so grateful for the Oakland University Alumni Award and the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame awards. Both super big deals. I know these things happen once, and not to most. The people who chose to nominate and advocate for me are angels. I enjoyed dressing up all fancy. I loved seeing my family and friends happy about the occasions. I didn’t enjoy speaking…but I did it. Price of admission. I am more of a listener than a speaker, but that was the game when you are the main event.
The parts I am left with are lovely plaques/trophies and memories. But also the nagging feelings of, what now? I’ve been in this business for reals since I was 20. I still have another 20 years to go. When you are getting lifetime achievement awards when you are at the halfway point…then what? Can I retire to West Palm Beach and start eating dinner at 4?
I remembered this conversation on this very subject with a friend who won a Pulitzer Prize. He was 47. Everybody looked at him differently after the news. He was no longer a colleague or a friend. They treated him like he was a god, or somebody who didn’t deserve the glitter. The love and admiration, along with the jealousy and hate, were all so real. He went into a funk, feeling crushing pressure to make something epic every time he wrote. Could somebody with the biggest prize in writing/journalism now be average or just good? What was the next? What if he failed? What if this was all not for real or merited? How do you see yourself when the world shifts and warps?
I wish I could talk to him now, he died a few years ago of lung cancer, about what he did to get his mind back. I am FAR from the cavernous hole he went into. Thank God. Nobody creates altars to the small-in-the-scope-of-things awards that I won. But I get his world a little more. You feel you need to live up to the labels that are placed on you. And you had nothing active to do with the perceptions. They come and hang the stuff on you like an Olympic medal and a rough-roped noose. Some hug you and wish you well. Some want to drop the floor to let you hang. Their jealousy is the poison they want you to drink.
One of my colleagues, in congratulating me, said I should now know what will be in my obituary – the HoF thing. That kind of rattled me. Whoa. (Then again, I plan on writing my own obit. Always take control of the editorial process and don’t let others speak your narrative. Boom. BOOM.)
These are good issues to have, because it’s helping me redefine some things. Ambition and drive changes as you go through life. I want to work hard, and smart. You give fewer thoughts to those who don’t matter – or never mattered in the first place…they were only real because you gave them the power to be alive.
So 2021, damn damn damn. You left your mark on me. Peace out.
AND HEY! Are you following my new newsletter (free! SUBSCRIBE AND SHARE PLEASE) – Open Court is a happy place. Go there. THANKS!
I was thinking about my friend Jen, something that happens a lot. I was sitting on the screened-in porch, which is about as close as you can get to heaven in the summer. I can talk trash to the mosquitoes and they cannot touch me. Otherwise, I would be slaughtered by them, especially this swarm-laden summer.
Jen always wanted to sit there when she came over, and hang out when the breeze was blowing. We never got to do that enough.
But she is still here with me. And I was kind of talking to her, asking her what would she do in my position. Would she take a big risk, add more work to her life, for an opportunity to craft her own path?
I felt her answer. Go for it.
So I am.
I am partnering with Facebook, to be part of their new Bulletin platform for journalists, content creators and influencers. Bulletin is designed to be a space where people like me can do their thing, via newsletter and the platform, and hopefully an audience will come for the ride.
My site, opencourt.bulletin.com will be a mix of sports, science, life and the things I am thinking about. Open Court means the freedom and space to do things, like in sports and in the law. We’re not going to be hemmed in, we’re going to run.
There are stories I’ve wanted to do, and stuff I’ve wanted to explore. So this is a great opportunity, and I am grateful. Look for around six pieces per month. And other stuff like FB lives, etc. I want to build a community, and share things. This will not be one-way traffic.
Or I will stop the car. Hah. Just joking.
Please sign up for the newsletter. It’s free and I appreciate your support.
Spring is here. Sports are coming back in many ways – meaning fans and interaction. At least here in the U.S., COVID-19 vaccinations are available. (A huge shoutout to science and the smart people – thank you for developing this vaccine so fast).
I have been regain being more mindful, now that I don’t have classes every day at the MSU School of Journalism. The real real at the end was we were all burned out. The Zoom life was, well, effectively brain-melting for all. Since the prof never has the luxury of turning the camera off and just ghosting through a class (and ZERO negative vibes to the students who did that, I get it, it is OK), I learned how draining it is to always be on. My eyes were dry, my head pounded and my voice was shot on most days after classes. I downed more coffee and power-chomped more Halls than probably is recommended. I was staring more, taking more, and ergonomically tragic too many times over the past 2 1/2 semesters of online online life. Yay!
I am hopefully done with the live Zoom class world, as fall classes look to be in-person and with HUMANS. Yay HUMANS.
I have learned the small things really do matter, because we are all ultimately in charge of our own joy. A few things I have found to lift me up:
BTS. Yes, that BTS. If you laughed, it is because you do not know the deal. (To quote Jin – DO YOU KNOW BTS!?!) They are super talented, straight up chaotically funny, and have found a way to make massive bank by breaking out of a sick K-pop system. I recommend starting with their hip-hop tracks, as that is more my jam, and focus on anything from Suga. He is a savage with words. RM too. And then J-Hope finishes you off. Go look for Ddaeng, Bapsae, Ugh, Tear, and any of the Cyphers (hat tip to C3). I guess what I love about BTS is their flexibility. The hip hop, when they are in a well-arranged song, flows normally. It’s not like a “very special verse” added to a pop song. That being said, they can roll without Halsey, Nikki Minaj and others not adding much to BTS tracks. I am not sure how I feel about Army, their longtime fan group. They are a force to be reckoned with, in many good ways, but when they go rogue or turn bad – look out. And remember, if you see passion in their eyes, it’s just the eyeliner (sage savage Suga).
Sports. Yeah. That stuff. I love seeing sports back, and I especially love seeing the elevation of women in the conversation. The WNBA, NCAA women’s championships conditions have been in the news – because people know what is going down. The mirage of the NCAA caring about student athletes (and that term alone is worth a masssssive discussion), is a joke. Bless the athletes and coaches who blew that up real time. My real joy is seeing people doing what they do best, like the Master’s, or French Open (Soon! SOON!), We need those parts of normalcy to reclick into our lives. AND YES – TELEVISE WOMEN’S SPORTS.
We all have been reflecting a lot in the past few weeks, as we mark the one year journey of hell through the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s easy and logical to get into the place of remembering everything we have lost. I think of my cousin, a wonderful family friend, a few dear friends from the sportswriting world, some lost directly to COVID, others from the lingering damage, and even from the despair of the dark, closed world. They’re gone. And even the ritual of mourning them, honoring their lives, and physically being with the mourners was denied. As a friend said to me, we will be winding all the things we have held in for a while. A long while.
I get that. I have a lot to unwind, but I want to do it with the duality of also thinking about the things that have been blessings.
My students: they have never failed to surprise me with bringing their hearts and open minds to each class. Our classes went from a blink of an eye into Zoom mode last March, a reality I had not planned. But we adjusted, made a concerted effort to be present for each other, and yes, try to laugh as much as we could. I am sure my BTS-laden pre-class Spotify playlist concerns them greatly (DO NOT DIS MY LOVE OF K-POP hip-hop…Suga, J-Hope and RM can throw down). The students know I am trying to lift their spirits, even with interesting music. We are all in this together, and taking even a minute to have some joy is important. So many of us have heavy hearts from stress and grief, even from having COVID.
Amazing women: I have truly gotten to see the power of women advocating for each other over the past year, as many of us have been thrown into crisis situations we cannot solve alone. The world grew smaller: job losses, pay cuts, schools shuttering, taking care of parents and children at the same time, and having the pressure of taking care of home – with no escape of help. We can long debate the fairness of these things, down to how society values women and provides resources vs. men. A lot of us are very tired. Having a strong group meant the world, professionally and personally, as things could be said without subtext or explanation. My prayer is for us all getting back what we need.
SaY wHaT? It’s still hard to process for me, much less say, that I am going into the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame. Yeah, really. They’re letting female sports writers crash these days, which is a good sign. (according to the student to who recommended the BTS jam as my walk-up) I may be the first to come through the door, but I vow I will be far from the last. There are so many that needed to come before me, because of their influence in the 80s/90s. And heck, I’ve still got many chapters left to write in my career, so I intend to use this belief in me as a good kick in the ass to keep going.
We have a ways to go before life comes back to us, but I see the evolution coming. Like spring, some stuff is coming up. I look forward to those days, when I can really start unwinding and be present in the world.
Time for a new year, a new calendar, and hopefully, some peace and joy for all. My calendar at work was still on the March page, a strange sight when I went to go clean my office in December. It felt like time was frozen, and in some ways, it has been.
In other ways, time has gone too fast. Too scary, too sad, too hate-filled.
This past year has taught me a lot of lessons, and I think will make me stronger going forward:
When people show you who they are, believe them. Maya Angelou was right. I am done making excuses or rationales for people or organizations that reveal their abhorrent behavior so clearly.
See the good people and embrace them. I think we have taken the good ones for granted for too long. The others may be louder or more dramatic in their words and deeds, but what are they really accomplishing. I am looking for the people that say and do good.
Fear makes people do irrational things. COVID is scary. The world is scary. I get it. But we need to find ways to keep ourselves grounded and centered in the values that matter.
You always have a way to bring change. Even the smallest things, words, deeds, thinking of somebody by sending a link, can bring about change. I saw it in my students on a daily basis. They helped each other, supported each other, and we grew from being together in our Zoom classes. We chose to embrace the good.
It is not naive to think the world may be very different after all we have been through. The dead will not come back. The angry ones need a place to vent and heard. I have chosen to align my energies with being a force for good. I want to amplify the efforts of others, continue to do my passions, and maybe, just maybe, find us in a place where people are smiling and laughing together again.
We already know Ferris Bueller was right about a lot of things, way back in the dark ages of the 80s. Life does come at you fast. But I not sure how to slow it down. I mean, a stay at home order for COVID is one way of slowing down. I mean slowing down the washing machine of insanity around us. The swirling news, breaking horror, cruelty and stupid that is flung at us non-stop.
I had one of those – better slow down – moments recently. Like in 48 hours, I realized a good colleague was not going to live much longer thanks to colon cancer; the world would know I am Oakland University’s distinguished alumni of the year; and I may also have cancer.
Take all that in.
I was first sad about Jamie, knowing his wife and kids were soon going to be trapped in the netherworld of being grateful that he is no longer suffering, but angry and sad that he is gone too soon at 48. I have been in that world with Jeni, and the pain of all of those powerful emotions rips you open for a while. I don’t wish it on anybody.
The OU thing is cool, unexpected and I am grateful. I never needed awards tell me I am doing the right things. But having something realize you are working hard is lovely. So thank you.
And me. Yeah. The thoughts running through my head while they biopsied were wild. What do I do if this is cancer? Is this what Jamie, Jeni, my mom, Michelle all felt like before they were told they had cancer? Michelle and my mom are still here. Jamie and Jeni are not. And no, do NOT believe the lie when they say it shouldn’t hurt. I call massive bullshit. It hurt, it sucked and you do it because you need to know. You go into your head and pretend you don’t feel what you feel.
Jamie dies. And I wait. I found out 5 days later that I don’t have cancer, and I am relieved. I’m grateful that I have access to healthcare that lets me know that. But I am also pissed that health care can’t save people like Jamie, who want to live and need to be here.
We all need to take better care of each other. More respect. Less cruelty. It’s just so obvious. So that will be my mantra for the rest of the year. Care. Be there. Love.
