Letters to My Girls

Truths We Find to be Self-Evident, Part Two: What It Means to Keep Your Mouth Shut

If you're joining me here today, you might wish to read Part One of this story:  Truths We Find to be Self-Evident, Part One: Mommy and the Catholic Church

Dear Darling Daughters:

A few people have asked me why I can’t keep my mouth shut about what happened at our school and just move on.  I was told at one point, “Oh, well, we are over it and moving on.”  Someone else said to me, “Lorie, I really think if you would just read the bible with an open heart, you would see that homosexuality is wrong.”  Really? 

I feel a very strong “calling” if you will, to speak up on what I consider to be a tragedy of epic proportions.  I’m not exaggerating.  “Calling” is the best word I can use to describe the sense of urgency and spiritual persistence I feel in telling this story.  And “epic tragedy” is an absolutely appropriately term to describe what I think is so very wrong about the decision that was made. 

I think anyone who has ever studied God or religion has some basic understanding of the moral objectives behind any sort of spiritualism.  Basics:  be kind to others, do unto others, don’t covet, don’t murder, don’t lie….  I don’t need to list the 10 Commandments here for anyone, and in particular, church heads, to know the basics. 

I don’t and will never understand any organization that would choose to be unkind to anyone.  Don’t we attend church to learn, to be accepted into a community, to find unconditional acceptance, to obtain guidance, and to bask in the love of God for all of us? 

And, if that’s the case, why do so many participants of organized religion so readily accept the systematic elimination of anyone who challenges the organization’s interpretation of what is meant by The Bible and the rules of the organization?  How is it possible to commit to an organization that ostracizes certain people, for whatever reason, and still believe that the greater good is being met even when the most basic precepts of spirituality are being ignored? 

Someone told me that I should evaluate the school based upon its merits and those exceptional things my children would gain such as a superior education.  I wanted to say to that person, “Would you allow your children to attend the best school in Boulder if they segregated African Americans?”  I’m betting the answer would be “no”.  What message does it send to our kiddos for us to say, “Oh, well, we don’t really believe in what they did, but we sent you there anyway because it was a good school.”

I also recognize that some of my peers at the school do believe that homosexuality is a sin or a choice and should be shunned.  If that’s the case, I would suggest you consider what you will do when one of your children comes to you with the news that s/he is gay.  Some of you will find this out while they are still at the Catholic School.  Will you allow them to continue at a place they are not accepted?  Will you speak out on their behalf?  Do you really believe that your child is somehow bad or damaged and won’t be accepted by God if she is lesbian?  I urge you to challenge your own thinking. 

I know that some would say I should have stayed with the school and tried to create change.  The fact is, I’m not a member of the Catholic Church and I don’t have the kind of financial input that I would need to have to influence anything that happens at the school.  The only ways that I can object and try to make a difference are to pull what financial influence I do have in the form of tuition, and speak clearly and loudly about what happened.  I still might not have any impact, but these two-and-a-half years later, I can still make it uncomfortable and memorable.  You’ll also notice I haven’t tried to take any individuals to the mat over this because I believe that would be as cruel and un-Christian as the original event.

So, why don’t I keep my mouth shut?  Remember that “calling” I told you about?  Part of it is knowing in a very profound and definite way what is right and what is wrong and having the spiritual strength to say so and act accordingly.  I believe that calling is as substantial and enduring as any religious figurehead who feels called to preach on Sunday morning.   The Catholic Church had its say in a very big way and now, it's my turn. 

My girls, there’s still another critical piece to this story that I will tell you in the coming weeks. 

My love to both of you!

Mommy

Truths We Find to be Self-Evident: Part 1: Mommy & The Catholic Church

Darling Girls,

I have a complicated story to tell you.  It's one I've held back for almost three years now as I've worked through one of the most difficult times I've experienced in my social and religious education.  You were uniquely involved, and I want you to have the story, from my perspective, so you can evaluate for yourself the complexities of these events.

Dad and I enrolled you in a Catholic School here in Boulder.  We were both brought up in the Catholic Faith, and as you know, we have members of the family in the Priesthood and in other roles of service to the Church.  Dad and his family attended the same Catholic School you did.  We have friends in the school and the church that go back decades. 

I suppose organized religion can be a wonderful thing.  In theory, the Church provides a gathering place for like-minded people to express their faith and support each other.  And, if you believe in God and are curious about religious philosophy, churches are a place to learn, ponder, and discuss the possibilities that exist within spiritualism. 

From very early on in my life, the Church was not a place I found to be comforting or loving.  I remember crying through my First Confession because it took place in a scary, dark, church hallway.  I could hear my heels clicking on the floor as I walked alone, not understanding what I was supposed to do or why I was there.  I was terrified and the Priest had to come out from behind the curtain to show me where to kneel and he told me what to say.  I'm sure he intended to teach me something, but when he forced me to tell him I had been mean to my parents so that he could "forgive" me and get through the excruciating session, the experience was branded onto my memory.  I knew something was very wrong - but it took me years to figure out how to reconcile that feeling with everything I had been taught about God and religion. 

Later in life, I attended and committed myself to the Methodist Faith, but found I was no more suited to it than Catholicism.  I studied The Bible in college, and I longed to understand the connection that so many had with God, that I did not.   Dad and I both travelled to Rome and The Vatican, which is the center of the Catholic Faith.  We had opportunities to study the politics and economics of the church.  We attended a blessing by the Pope.  Through these experiences, I became uncomfortably aware that I would never connect to spiritualism through the facade that belies organized religion.

When you girls were born, our families wanted us to have you baptized into the Catholic Faith.  It was understandable, as all of us had been baptized, and it was, if you will, a "rule" of our religion to do so.  Dad and I had long since stopped worshipping at the Church, however, and we were not married in the Church, so getting you baptized was not as easy as you might imagine.  And, I wasn't sure I wanted to baptize you into a faith I was no longer a part of.  This is what started us on a years-long journey that took us down some very unfamiliar paths. 

I'm going to fast-forward to the day that completely changed me in ways that both propelled me away from the Catholic Faith, and compelled me to solidify a new definition of spiritualism for myself.  One day, your classmate was told along with her brother, that she could no longer attend your school.  She was told this because her parents were lesbians and the Catholic Faith believes that homosexuality is a sin.  Never mind that her parents were part of the Church and had supported it with both their hearts and finances.  Never mind that those two children had been baptized into the faith.  Never mind that this was a loving, progressive, sweet family whose Christian beliefs set the bar higher for the rest of us. 

As you can imagine, the outcry from that decision was enormous.  The local and national press was involved.  Groups came to demonstrate at the church.  Parents got together to sign petitions and write letters to question the Archdiocese.  Some people upheld the decision.  For me, it was the absolute end to any shred of connection I had to Catholicism. 

When I say "Truths We Find to be Self-Evident," I'm talking about the fact that, as human beings, we inherently know how to love and cherish each other.  We know the difference between right and wrong.  We know that it feels good to embrace others wholly and without judgement.  It is whatever education we receive throughout our lives that causes us to choose not to be open to others.  So, when the decision of the Catholic Church was one that placed you girls into an education of intolerance, fear, and forced condescension, I couldn't possibly allow you to stay there.

What is self-evident to me?  The most exceptional and primary reason for the existence of this thing we call "God," The Bible, and the Christian Faith, is to embrace and accept each other, in all of our maginificent complexity and beauty.  Period.  No exception. 

Speaking out has had its disadvantages.  The fact is, I love and adore the people at the school.  Our friends from there are some of the best people I know.  The teachers - brilliant and unwavering in their dedication to the art of education.  Some of our friends with similar beliefs also pulled their children and support for the school.  Others chose to stay and try to create change.  I have friends who credit their Catholic communities and faith with their survival of some incredibly difficult odds.  Everyone has the right to make his/her own decision, and I very much respect that. 

There is so much more to this story that I'll tell you in the coming weeks.  Before I go onto Part II, I want you to know a few things about this story:  First, it is each individual's right and responsibility to exist in spiritualism in whatever way they choose.  I fully respect (and in some ways, envy) those who choose to participate in organized religion.  Second, the journey I took over the years was mine alone.  While I've had frank discussions with friends and family, I don't believe it is my right to push my beliefs on anyone any more than I would expect them to do that in return.  Finally, discussing these issues, particularly in such a public way, is gut-wrenching.  It's something I feel uniquely compelled to do because of the way the journey has changed me.  The point of this, however, is not to breed discontent, criticism, or angst, but to stand for what I believe and to support those who were wronged along the path.  It is, in my opinion, the right thing to do.

I love you both so very much,

Mommy 

 

 

 

 

 

Naomi's Story: Adoption and Sisterhood

I strongly believe that certain souls are placed into your life to teach you something you need to know that is spiritually significant.  My friend, Naomi, is one such person in my life.  We worked together in the 80's in banking, where I was lucky enough to learn some very useful lessons in management from her.  She helped me to be a kinder, gentler person.  We lost touch, found each other last year on Facebook, and she now is teaching me even more about life and motherhood.  I knew she had stories to tell, so I asked her to be my first guest blogger. 

Naomi (39) lives in Illinois with her husband, John, son Jordan (16 and just started driving), and daughter Jillian (5).  She is the consummate stay-at-home-mom, with family, photography, and fitness her chief interests.  And, she has some beautiful, touching stories to tell us.  Today's story is about how adoption became a part of her life through her sisters and her children.  Check back next week to read her story of living with infertility and the loss of a child.  

Thank you, Naomi, for being my first guest blogger!  

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From as early as I was old enough to understand, I was told my oldest sister, Lainie, was adopted.  Lainie was the firstborn.  Jess and I soon followed, biological daughters of my dad and my mom.  I always knew we were different because people were always very quick to point it out….how come Lainie doesn’t have blond hair?  How come Lainie is so quiet?  Lainie must look like your dad (always the assumption made when the three of us girls were with my mom).  Jess and I were the spitting image of my mom, blond hair blue-eyed Norwegians.  Lainie had dark hair and different facial features.  As the three of us girls got older the differences became more obvious.  Lainie was a straight A student.  She was very quiet in the classroom and obedient.  Teachers loved Lainie.  Next in line was Jess.  Jess was also a straight A student and the teachers love her too,  but she was much LESS quiet in the classroom.  Back in our high school days, teachers gave a letter grade for assignments and a number grade for “respects the rights of others” and such.  Lainie always had A1’s, which meant quiet and a good listener.  Jess always got A3’s, meaning not so quiet and not a good listener unless that meant listening to gossip.  When I entered high school it was inevitable that I would get the same teachers as my sisters.  I remember one teacher saying, “So which sister are you like, Lainie or Jess?”  She said it with such hope….hoping my answer would be Lainie.  I guess my behavior modeled more closely to Lainie's and teachers were happy about that.  As I recall I had a lot of A's on my report card too, but not straight A's.   The comparisons and the questions never sat very well with me.  I always took it as some sort of dig….like the difference wasn’t good. 

As the three of us entered college and went our separate ways in the world, we followed our own paths.   As we were all in different cities and rarely got together, we weren’t compared to one another as often.  Jess and I each got married.  We both got pregnant at the same time.  We delivered our boys within 3 days of each other.  Lainie soon followed with marriage and a baby girl.  Now we were all mothers.

 After I had my son, my husband and I started trying to have another baby.   The second time it wasn’t so easy.  We found ourselves unable to have another baby and started thinking about adopting.  My first thought was, what if our child is treated differently like Lainie?  You see, growing up I always cringed when the questions would come.  It made me uncomfortable and it made me sad for Lainie.  When John and I started seriously considering adoption my first phone call was to Lainie.  As John and I were looking at  all ethnicity options of babies we might receive I couldn’t help but think of how different they might be from us.  When I called Lainie I simply asked her, “How did it make you feel when people would ask why you looked different?”  In typical Lainie fashion she said, “Well I always knew I was adopted, so to me  it was such a stupid question.  Duh.”  It truly amazed me.  What I had always seen as a jab or a dig, Lainie saw as a stupid question.   She always knew she was wanted.  She was loved.  She was part of a family.  She had parents who loved her the second she was put into their arms.  She had sisters that would be with her for life.  Suddenly having a different “birthparent” seemed so irrelevant.

Shortly thereafter John and I dove headfirst into the adoption process.  We filled out all the paperwork, usually me filling out the papers while reading aloud to John.  I recall his only hesitation.  We were filling out our preferences for a child.  I checked off ethnicities I didn’t even know existed.  John nodded or voiced a yes as I went.  We got to type of birth….I read single, check.  Twins, check.  Triplets, check!  John yelled “WHOA.”  That seemed to be his only concern.  We did the FBI background check, home study, and fingerprints.  We made a book of pictures and descriptions of our family, why we thought we would make a good adoptive family.  The first week of July we received a letter from the adoption agency saying all our paperwork was done and we were ready to be “shown” to birthmothers.  The last week of July we got a call from the agency….a birthmother had chosen us.  I remember being overjoyed and just knew this was meant to be!

Jillian Faith was born November 17^th.  John, Jordan and I flew to Florida the day she was born.  When we arrived at the hospital, we went straight to our birthmother’s room.  We all took turns holding Jillian, staring at her, crying with joy.  When our adoption coordinator told us it was time to leave, my heart sank and I cried.  The birthmother had until the next day to change her mind.  We went back to the hotel and waited.  The next afternoon, we got the call to come pick up our daughter at the hospital.  We couldn’t get there fast enough.  The nurses took us through everything that I remembered going through when I left the hospital 10 years before with Jordan.  It still didn’t seem real.  Did we really get to leave the hospital and bring this perfect little life with us? 

We did!  As I write this I am trying to think when Jillian became ours.  Was it always written this way?  From the first phone call from the agency, she seemed like my daughter.  Was it our first meeting with her birthmother when she said she would trust us to raise her birth child?  Was it during the last couple months of her pregnancy when I dreamt about when this baby would come, what she would look like, what our first moments together would be like?  Was it the first time I held her in the hospital?  Was it when we left the hospital as a family of four?  I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I do know that Jillian was meant to be my daughter and I was meant to be her mom, the same as Jordan was meant to be my son and I was meant to be his mom.  I see no difference between them, no distinction of biological and adopted.  Maybe that is why Lainie never saw the questions as an issue….she was raised not thinking there was any difference between adopted and biological and that everyone looks different.  That is what makes us each unique and wonderful in our own way.

We talk about Jillian being adopted.  She knows we brought her home from the hospital when she was one day old.  Jillian understands as much as she can at 5 years old that she was in another woman’s belly. She knows that her birthmother gave her to us because she thought we would be the perfect family for her.  We certainly don’t talk about it everyday.  But I want Jillian to be aware of it, to know it is part of her story, to understand that being adopted is a great thing.  That way when the questions come, the differences are pointed out, she can embrace it and tell her story just like Lainie always has.  No big deal.  I’m different because I am me.  Adopted or not, isn’t that the best lesson we can all learn?  Embrace the fact that what makes you different, what sets you apart, what some people criticize and fault,  are the same amazing things that make you you!  Nobody else in the world is just like you?  That is a wonderful thing!

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Have a question or comment for Naomi?  Write us in the comments section below and Naomi will answer! 

The Body Talk

by Lorie Fuller

My Dear Daughter:

You've been asking me lots of questions lately.  Your 5-yr-old brain is constantly turning, wondering, wandering down a series of paths at an alarmingly faster rate each day.  Those innocent, precious blue eyes peer into mine as you ask some of the most difficult questions a mom will ever try to answer. 

You're too young to be embarrassed yet by the discussions we've had about boys, bodies, pregnancy, peeing, puking, digestion, boobs and endless other things.  Either fortunately or unfortunately (you'll have to decide), I'm one of those moms who will talk about anything.  I may not always have the words (hence the trip to the bookstore today) to explain, but I promise I'll always try to give you the best information I have.  One day, after you graduate from medical school (no pressure, though) you can come back and tell me what I got wrong. 

I hope you'll always ask me questions, even if what you're asking seems weird or embarrassing.  I hope you know I'll always do my best to answer honestly and completely.  I won't leave anything out to preserve anyone's modesty or to try to make you believe something that isn't true.  I won't try to make you afraid, but I will always tell you the risks. 

I hope you won't talk about your body with your friends until you're older and can evaluate what's plausible and what isn't.  Friends aren't always a good source for information, but a mom is.  As you become more knowledgeable about your physical self, I hope that things won't be so mysterious that you feel compelled to explore before you're ready.  I believe that the more you know, the more comfortable you will be with yourself and with what you want, and the more prepared you will be when you get to make choices for yourself.   So, I will share everything I know to help you. 

One thing I dearly love about you is that you talk about what's going on in your head.  You love to explore and learn.  You're willing to look at things that might seem frightening or mysterious.  You don't hide from oddities.   

When you asked me this week to talk to you more about bodies and babies, we did what I've done my whole lifetime - find books on the topic!  We looked at anatomy books, books about reproduction, books about sex, bodies, and numerous others.  I encourage you to learn to research for yourself, and to arm yourself with knowledge. 

We also talked about touching - the good kind and the bad.  What's appropriate and what isn't.  What to do if someone tries to hurt you or touch you without your permission.  Some of these things are scary for both of us, but you took it in stride, and I'm trying to do so, as well. 

As you grow up, your body will begin to tell you things.  You may not understand, and you most assuredly will need to ask questions. I hope you'll never be afraid to ask me, or a doctor, about anything that seems odd to you.  Most of the time, what you experience will be normal, and you'll find that everyone else is experiencing the same thing. 

I hope you develop a healthy respect for your self - your mind, body, intuition, rights, likes, wishes, spirituality, and choices.  I hope you explore others with a healthy amount of skepticism, and find some truly invaluable relationships in your life, as I have.  I hope you are not encumbered by the social expectations and rituals that seem so deeply ingrained in our society, but rather find your own definition of love, friendship, and spirituality. 

I hope you will know what it's like to be crazy in love with someone, to have the kind of passion that expands your soul and your mind in such a way you can't even imagine closing yourself up to it.  I hope you hurt little for the love of another. 

The fact is, the little biology lesson we had today is just the start of the journey toward understanding your body and how it relates to your mind and your spirit.  It may be hard to believe, but your sense of physical self will have enormous impact on your life.  What you choose for your body will directly or indirectly change the way your life plays out.   

Let's work on this together, as we did today - always. 

My Heart to Yours,

Mommy 

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For Parents:  Besides some basic books on anatomy, I found a wonderful resource called "What's the Big Secret?" by Laurie Krasny Brown.  The book is wonderful, child-friendly, not-too-complicated look at bodies and sex for a younger child.  Be sure to read it to yourself before reading it to the child, and edit to suit your needs.   

Changed For the Better...Spiritual Connections in Friendship.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return.

 

Stephen Schwartz

"For Good"

 

Dear Daughters:

 

You've heard these lyrics a number of times since I discovered this song from the musical Wicked a few months ago.  This song came into my life at an opportune moment - one in which I was pondering how very important friendships have become to me.  I often think that songs come into my life in a very spiritual way, seemingly drifting along at just the time to make full impact, the message being, "Pay attention, Lorie.  There's something here for you to learn."

 

I want to share with you another spiritual thing about my life in hopes that you also have this experience - and enjoy it to its fullest. 

 

There are a dozen or so people I've met in my lifetime who have made a significant positive and lasting impact on my life.  I can picture each one of their faces, and bring their names to mind instantly.  It's as though each has his or her imprint on my soul.  It's not that I haven't met lots of people who made a difference - I'm talking about those who absolutely changed me. 

 

I'm not sure I can describe adequately what happens when you meet such a person.  It's interesting to me that several of these folks have spent very little direct time in my life, but have had the most percussive effect. Finding it is like tuning into a radio station that suddenly becomes crystal clear in its sound.  It's a level of knowing, of faith, of existential certainty. 

 

If you read this as a teenager or young woman, you might wonder if I'm talking about being in love.  The answer is no.  This isn't the type of connection you have when you crush or feel giddy around an attractive person, nor is it the "soul mate" experience you may have with someone you love.  I'm talking more about a feeling that you have some deep understanding of another human being, that he or she is a representation of something greater than you can define, and who you feel is absolutely meant to be there. 

 

I'm a parent first, and while I want you to know that this may happen to you, I also want you to know that the initial outcome isn't always positive.  You may feel drawn to a person, but still feel hopelessly unable to connect at any social level.  Or, perhaps this person is a teacher (as several are for me) and while you want desperately to meet his expectations of you, you occasionally disappoint him with your efforts, only knowing much later in life that it's the recognition (and correction, of course) of that failure that counts. 

 

You might even feel as though someone you meet has been a part of your life for all eternity, and that your relationship is meant to correct some unapparent wound of a soul from a past life or existence. 

 

These encounters aren't always lengthy or complex.  You may have one thing to learn from someone and that may be all there is.  You may have this experience and not even know it until years later. 

 

It's not always easy to identify these people in your life.  You become more skilled at it as you gain experience with relationships and social situations.   Try not to look for it, but once you find that connection and know it's true, bask in it.  Take full advantage of the moments you have.  Learn.  Give.  And, know that even if the physical presence of that human being doesn't remain, the spiritual significance will, your whole life. 

 

I hope you both open yourselves up to this concept and have many such experiences.  I hope you perform the same role for others in your lifetime, and recognize when you are the one who has something to teach another. 

 

With all my love,

Mommy