Category: Soapbox

Frageelay Numero Dodici

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments

For twelve years I’ve been putting out a post around Christmas Eve that speaks to the fragile nature of this season…and life. When I first started writing my annual “frageelay” piece, I was busy juggling being the parent of a young kid, the daughter of a (very demanding) older parent, work that led up to a major crescendo on Christmas Eve, and hosting a decent-sized gathering on the 25th. Add in parties, in-person gift shopping, cookie exchanges, playdates, Christmas cards, school concerts…you get the idea.

And now? Well, let’s just say I have arrived at a different season of life. The kid is no longer young, the parent has passed, work still has a ton going on but it’s different and healthier, and the family gathering has shrunk and moved up on the calendar. Covid did in many of the traditional parties (though thankfully not all!), and my shopping is nearly all online. There are no formal cookie exchanges, my kid takes care of his own “playdates,” and I—like so many of us—have ceased writing Christmas cards.

Some might think this different season sounds sad. The truth is…I love it. Of course, there are some things I miss in the crazy of the earlier years—my little drummer boy banging away in concert, his wobbly but wholehearted voice singing of Jesus’ birth, and of course his delight at seeing what Santa left under the tree. I am grateful for those memories. As I am the laughs and good times shared with family and friends under the glow of Christmas lights.

I love having those memories. But I love making the new memories that come with this different time of life. Our new tradition of a smaller family get-together earlier in the season means that I get to exhale and enjoy so much of what I missed scurrying along trying to get everything done in previous years. I get to be a little.

Years ago, I got hit with a 24-hour stomach bug on Christmas Eve. Because of how Christmas fell on a Saturday that year, I was able to push it to Sunday with everyone still able to attend. Due to my barely having my legs back under me, I was not interested in eating the traditional Italian spread that I make, but I was so glad it could work out and everyone could still be together.

“You, know, Lis…I’m sorry you were sick and all, but yesterday was awesome,” my sister said. “Because it was a last-minute cancelation, all we did was stay in our PJs and order Chinese. It was wonderful.” I think I responded with a sarcastic, “I’m so glad that my sickness worked out for you…,” but the truth was that I wanted that, too. I wanted my PJs and Chinese food Christmas Day, and…flash forward to now…if we choose it, we get it. Last year, we ordered sushi on Christmas Day—wonderful indeed.

Perhaps this season of life will evolve into something different someday. If a grandkid or two or five enters the picture, it will all be a new and wonderful kind of crazy that I will welcome with anticipatory delight. What a blessed season that will be.

But who knows what the future will bring? Life is fragile—and decidedly unfair. My son is only six months younger than I was when I lost my dad. That is crazy for me to think about when I look at him and know how I hope for many more decades for the three of us to have each other in our lives.

I pray for a long and healthy season in this regard.

What I have learned through the years, though, is that there is a way to see to it that the people you love feel loved during this holiday season (and pretty much every day) without killing yourself in the process—in fact they prefer it! And…they would also like you to be able to feel the love right back.

I certainly don’t have a lock on all this, but I am learning. And this is what I hope for you—that you stay on (or find!) the path that’s paved with love that goes both ways—with occasional moments of joy and peace (as much as you can possibly swing!) added in for good measure.

Because life is frageelay…so it’s best if we handle with care.

2022—A Year to Begin Closing a Gaping Agape Hole?

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ Leave a comment

My faith needs bolstering these days. In general, it feels like Rocky after a few rounds with Clubber Lang…taking quite a few hits and finding itself on the ropes, hoping for the bell to ring to end the round and catch its breath before it keels over.

It is primarily my faith in people that is so wounded, after these last years of division and vitriol. We have siloed ourselves and shouted in echo chambers and across social media platforms to tear each other apart with little thought of impact or consequences.

“Us” and “them” is deeply rooted in our psyches, and I am weary from it all.

In those initial, scary weeks when the pandemic struck, I hoped that maybe a tiny positive byproduct of it would be its common enemy status—that we would come together to fight this invisible villain in order to save lives.

We did not.

While we may rise to the occasion…we fall to the everyday.

Yes, people come together in times of crisis. When Harvey ravaged Houston and people drove around in boats rescuing anyone they could find, they noted how it didn’t matter what your politics were—just get in the boat. Moments of coming together? Sure. Continued, concerted everyday efforts? Well, that’s unfortunately a different story.

Consequently, my faith is wobbly from the heart punches it has sustained and the loss it has witnessed…and I long for a way to renew it. I think that is why, as I wondered if a word for 2022 would find me, as it has for the last several years, the word “faith” was knocking on my heart.

But then bell hooks passed. And Archbishop Desmond Tutu joined her. And as I looked for my next thing to listen to while I do my morning exercises, Bishop Michael Curry’s Love Is the Way presented itself to me on my audiobook playlist. In listening to his Morgan Freeman-esque voice, my word for the year fell right into my heart: Love…It must be. Because it is only through love that my faith can regrow in the fertile soil of agape, and not just for me alone.

Agape, one of the seven words to describe love in the Greek language, is defined by Bishop Curry as a “sacrificial love that seeks the good and well-being of others, of society, of the world.” And in our current times, it feels like there is a gaping hole where agape love should be firmly established.

what the world needs now…

People like Curry and hooks and Tutu have lived lives dedicated to teaching that love is THE gamechanger. It is a verb—an action—that, heals, redeems, and brings about true change. It is a choice we make daily. It is what Jesus made plain: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:12-13)

So…with love determining itself to be my word of the year—what exactly does this mean for me? After all, it’s not exactly a newsflash. I know love is the way.

It feels more like it is to be a recommitment.

And since agape is manifested in action, I will need to recommit to…act more. Learn. Listen. Serve. Share. Pray. Give. And more that I have yet to know.

But please do not see this as a New Year’s resolution. I am in no way thinking that with this guidance for the year—and my life—that I just need to keep at it like any other “goal.” Oh, no, no, no, no…no. This is a reminder for me to continue to wrestle with the call to love one another and live a life of love. It’s a biggie. There are those who are easy to love, and then there are those who…are not easy to love. And the call is to love the whole smash. And live it out in action. A tall order. Something that I must practice day in and day out.

And in my wearied state of wobbly faith, I don’t approach it glibly. But I do know that love wins, so even in my weariness, I must recommit to doing my best to live that love. Because otherwise? Otherwise, not only love and faith are at risk but hope, too. And where do I go from there?

I do not want to know.

So here is to 2022 being a year that plants seeds of love that develop into generous, thriving gardens of faith, hope…and more and more love.  

To love, my brothers and sisters, does not mean we have to agree. But maybe agreeing to love is the greatest agreement. And the only one that ultimately matters, because it makes a future possible.
―Michael B. Curry, Love Is the Way: Holding on to Hope in Troubling Times

The choice to love is a choice to connect―to find ourselves in the other.
―bell hooks, all about love

Your ordinary acts of love and hope point to the extraordinary promise that every human life is of inestimable value.
―Desmond Tutu

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.
―John 13:34

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
―1 Corinthians 13:13

The FraGEElay Nature of Life: How $2.50 Saved an Entire Town

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ Leave a comment

For my tenth annual iteration of my Christmas Eve(ish) FraGEElay* post, I find my heart dwelling on another Christmas classic: It’s a Wonderful Life. It is my favorite movie, and I have seen it over 100 times. But my viewing of it the other night brought me a new understanding and insight.

The film (for those living in a sad “I haven’t watched IAWL” world) is about George Bailey being shown the impact he has had on his hometown, Bedford Falls, to prove to him in his darkest hour that his town—and the world—need him. But what I realized this last viewing is that the same could be said about the character of Mrs. Davis. Who is Mrs. Davis, you ask? Well, besides growing up to become Grandma Walton, she is the young woman who asks for $17.50 to tide her over until the bank re-opens (during the scene of the bank run of the Great Depression).

Others in the scene ask for $20 (not to mention $242, Tom), and if Mrs. Davis had done the same, there would have been no “mama dollar and papa dollar” left for George to hold in his hands until the final second of the business day. Instead, they would have been 50¢ short and had to close early, which—according to Mr. Potter—meant that they would never reopen. (Yes, I know this calculation doesn’t account for the possibility of others adjusting what they asked for—perhaps the last person would have seen they were going to run out of money and asked accordingly—but the movie is rife with these kinds of “ifs,” so let’s just go with it.)

The defaulting of the Building and Loan would have meant that Potter would own all of Bedford Falls—and people would no longer have the option to borrow money from a company that has a heart and knows and cares for people. They would only be dealing with a wealthy kingpin who has no regard for the “rabble” of his town (sound familiar?)

Yes, yes, yes—of course George matters to the survival of Bedford Falls, but so does Mrs. Davis. That single, small choice—to ask for $2.50 less than the others—resulted in Potter’s being thwarted in amassing more from those who have less (again…sound familiar??) Pottersville be damned.

Life is fragile in so many ways. We continue to deal with a tenacious virus that has now claimed over 800,000 American lives. (When I wrote last year’s post, the number was “only” 334,000.) And beyond its physical death toll, it has revealed and underscored the depths of the disease of polarization, where minorly inconvenient ways to mitigate the spread of the virus turn into majorly appalling actions like threatening the lives of school board members…over a mask mandate. What the holy fahrvergnugen?  

In my estimation, the world is more fragile than ever. From climate change to the weakening of democracy to systemic “isms” that damage and destroy innumerous lives daily, we need to find a way to examine our problems, learn how to fix them, and then take care of business. Cancers don’t go away by refusing to address them or merely casting blame, and neither will any one of the challenges plaguing our fragile world today.

Sure. Okay. I’ll get right on that.

Rather than taking action, though, I find myself untethered and in an overwhelming (and I mean Brené Brown’s “I’m blown” definition of the word) wave of anxiety that comes from thinking about how to even begin to address these problems. What can I possibly do? Is it too late? Is there time? Will anything truly change?

I don’t really know. What I do know, though, is that sometimes, even something as small as Mrs. Davis’ choice can make a big difference. We may not understand it at the time, but it matters.

It matters a great deal.

Life is fraGEElay.

$2.50 saved Bedford Falls.

All hope is not lost.

I wish you a peaceful, safe, and love-filled Christmas and New Year. May we seek and find a way of being better to one another…in our homes, our communities, our nation, and our world.

*If you are unfamiliar with this reference, it comes from the beloved movie “A Christmas Story.” I can no longer see the word “fragile” and pronounce it in any way other than fraGEElay. That must be Italian.

2021: Bring Me a Renaissance!

woman with outstretched arms in front of sunrise
~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 3 Comments

Even those who have had beautiful experiences this past year know that overall, 2020 sucked. We have had very hard lessons to learn and been very hardheaded (and hardhearted) about learning them.

There has been so much loss and sadness. Over 343,000 American lives have been lost to Covid, and deaths worldwide are at 1.81 million. And counting.

Many livelihoods and incomes of the 98% have been lost or are on uncertain ground. Racial inequality is screaming for justice. Hate groups are burgeoning. Our democracy is being attacked from the top down and way too many are either looking the other way or outright supporting it. Something as simple as facemasks—for the common good—have underlined a major schism rather than been an unequivocal (and easy) part of the solution to a devastating pandemic.

In many ways, 2020 is reminiscent of a simplified version of the Middle/Dark Ages, which included the bubonic plague, the Crusades, and Feudalism.

But this post is no history review (and I surely wouldn’t be the one writing it if it were). Rather, it is my chance to share with you my “word of the year.” My word for 2020 (are you ready for this?? It’s a hoot!) was play. Hahahaha! Guess the joke was on me.

But enough 2020…now is the time to look forward and strive for better things…which is why my word for 2021 is renaissance.

From the first time I studied the Renaissance in history class, I was hooked. A rebirth for learning and a love of the arts? A desire to question and create and a belief that humanity matters? Count me in.

Yes, it is more complicated than that, and there are aspects of the period that I don’t embrace, but for the sake of what I want to share here, let’s focus on renaissance in the most basic of terms: renaissance as rebirth, revival…renewal.

I want…need…2021 to be the beginning of a physical, cultural, intellectual, political, spiritual, and personal renaissance.

A rebirth of health and hope for one another. A reconstituting of our communities so that solidarity and diversity not only exist but rely on one another. A re-embracing of science to protect ourselves and our earth. A rebuilding of our systems to create equality and justice. A re-examining of religion that focuses on living out one’s faith rather than using it as a weapon…and a renewal of self and purpose that supplants the feeling of “untetheredness” that has overwhelmed me this past year.

Yeah, yeah, yeah…that’s a pretty tall order for a decade, let alone a year, but…we have to start somewhere, right? And why not right after a year that has taught us so much about the things we need to change? The term “inflection point” has become a buzz phrase for so many issues we face because this is indeed a time where significant change can happen—if we push for it.

So I’m pushing for it. Come on, renaissance!

But while there is much work to do in the wider world…I’m pretty sure my renaissance needs to start with me.

There are many personal things that 2020 has let us see with very different eyes. Our cloistered worlds have helped us learn what and who really matter in our lives…and what and who don’t. It’s put a ton of choices in front of us and given us the opportunity to “redecide” or reassess what about our “former” lives we want to have as a part of our “new” lives—and what is better off left as a memory.

At least for me, I know I need to be purposeful about these changes and not just let life morph into “whatever.” A few of the things that 2020 has helped me see more clearly include:

—My forever arch-nemesis Poor Time Management has been winning many battles, and I need to get off my ever-expanding tuckus and create a structure that helps me to win the war (or at least win a few battles here and there). This renaissance requires energy and effort—and PTM is like a vampire sucking those two commodities right out of me.

—Something as simple as hugs have renewed value to me. Once social distancing no longer needs to be a part of our safety protocol, look out, people. This Italian is coming for you with wide open arms.

—I have also been better able to assess where my efforts are best put, and things like one-sided relationships…where I’m the side doing all the reaching…are perhaps not the best use of my energies. Better to spend it on those relationships that see me as worth reaching for, too.

—I still need more play in my life.

These are but a few of the personal aspects of my renaissance that I can make choices about—there are many more that are part of the mix.

Yes…2021 can be the start of so many wonderful changes and choices…but it first needs the belief that these changes and choices are possible—that they are within Hope’s reach—and Hope, at least mine, has been under assault for several years now.

So perhaps that is the best place to start. 2021 is bringing hope—however tenuous—for positive change, and we need to grab hold of it for dear life and go where it leads us.

We are not done with the darkness, and we never will be—but we can’t afford to be hope-less. Not now. Not ever.

So come on, 2021—shine a light for us at the end of this dark year and lead us into a renaissance of health, hope, healing…and love. And may this be just the beginning.

2020 Hindsight—What if 2020 is the year we finally see 20/20?

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments

With pretty much everything being a cause for division these days, I’m pretty sure there is something we can all agree on: 2020 was a year. An exceptional year that brought us a great deal of pain, struggle, and loss. A year that gave us plenty to learn from and a lot of tough challenges to work through.

And now that we are soon to have 20/20 hindsight of 2020…what do we see more clearly?

I saw this poem on Instagram, and it gave me hope…

What if 2020 isn’t cancelled?
What if 2020 is the year we’ve been waiting for?
A year so uncomfortable, so painful, so scary, so raw –
that it finally forces us to grow.
A year that screams so loud, finally awakening us
from our ignorant slumber.
A year we finally accept the need for change.
Declare change. Work for change. Become the change.
A year we finally band together, instead of
pushing each other further apart.

2020 isn’t cancelled, but rather
the most important year of them all.

~leslie dwight

What if 2020 is the year we finally see 20/20? What if it is the year that we see things for what they truly are and then strive to make them better?

If this is indeed the case, 2020 brought some critical issues into sharper focus. Yes, there have been good things that have come about this year, but for me, 2020 has made some things undeniably, painfully clear. So…this post is going to get dark (and the list is incomplete!), but perhaps there will be some light at the end.

Systemic change…needs the system to change. And the system isn’t going to change when it works for those who created it and hold the power and money…and it’s been working for the powerful for a very long time. Racial injustice is part of the system. Gender inequality is part of the system. Income inequality is part of the system. So those folks in power are either going to have to have a colossal change of heart…or we’re going to have to have a change of power. I think we know which of these is more possible than the other.   

We are indeed in a post-truth era. Because someone merely says something should not make that something true, but it seems that is enough these days for “facts.” Having been groomed for months to expect that if the election didn’t re-elect the current holder of the office he would cry “rigged” should have caused everyone to suspect that a game was in the process of being played. But for WAY too many people, it did not. The fact that this crying of fraud without any substantiation has radicalized people to the point of threats and violence is a reminder that fear, hate, and greed are the root causes of most of the misery in this world. We need objective truths to matter again.

If our well-being depends on the collective good, we are in trouble. We may come together to help people in short-term instances of natural destruction, but apparently asking to help each other with longer term behavior like wearing masks is too much for some. I’m not sure where we go from here if covering your face is too much of a sacrifice to make to help others stay healthy. I’m not sure at all.

Our gargantuan corporate healthcare and insurance systems aren’t working for anyone except the suits. And the more they grow, the worse off we all will be. Covid has made this irrefutably clear. Too many people don’t get the care they need because they don’t have insurance. Too many of our healthcare workers are overworked and underpaid. People fight government intervention in healthcare because they say keeping it private is better…but as these private systems grow, what is the difference? Big is big. Both access to and quality of care suffer. Another system that needs changing.

Also…

Science matters. Enough said.

We need to change how we take care of our older citizens. The pandemic made it heartbreakingly clear that long-term care facilities are leaving our older Americans vulnerable and in danger. What a horrible and sad way to see that “corporate care” is only interested in the care of their bottom line. Our systemic change list grows.

Income inequality is so much more than different-sized paychecks. Our reliance on technology this year has meant that those without access to internet or devices have struggled to learn and earn, and the disparity continues to grow. If kids can’t access education, people can’t go to the doctor, and families are going hungry, this should matter to everyone—not just those who are directly impacted. Systemic change, anyone?

Our democracy is not beyond destruction. I can’t believe I just wrote those words. I remember learning as a kid in history class about the toppling of governments and thinking that could never happen to the United States, but I am learning that not only can it happen, but it is in the process of happening. And unless we can protect and have faith in our free and fair elections and have our politicians work for “we the people” instead of themselves, we are at risk of becoming a full-blown plutocracy.  

Yes, indeed…2020 has taught us that we have several systems that need changing, which I find totally overwhelming.

Where do we go from here?

I wish I could enumerate the steps that we need to take to begin the fixing, rebuilding and/or healing, but I am not wise.

What I can offer is a simple simile for hope and change:

Be like lichen.

Ahem, what?

Be like lichen.

I remember learning that after a volcano erupts and spews a deadly and destructive lava flow, the first thing that grows back and begins to rebuild life is…lichen.

Lichen begins growing on lava’s ruins and is the foundation of the new ecosystem.

To me, this simile is helpful and hope-filled because the devastation that the lava brings seems insurmountable—but there is still life, still hope. It always grows. There is the chance to start over and create anew—even in the shadow of the very volcano that could erupt again—life is reborn.

The lichen is the basis for all the rest to begin.

We may not be able to be the lichen everywhere that needs change and renewal, but we can be to some things.

At least that’s what I tell myself on a good day. The reality is that the work to be done everywhere to fight injustice, help those in need, and take care of our planet is difficult and daunting.

But 2020 has given us a chance to see it clearly. And now that we see it better for what it is…let us get to work. Let us be like lichen.

A crazy little fairy tale…or is it?

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 4 Comments

There was a captain of a ship who was fired from his job and told to—as his contract states—finish his voyage and then leave. Rather than accepting this and behaving professionally, he claims that he was not fired and tells all the passengers that he is being attacked. He threatens to just keep the ship out at sea. The company tells him they can prove that all protocols were followed in his firing, but he dismisses them and continues to tell the passengers he is being attacked. Many of the passengers believe him. Many more don’t. They just want to get back to land safely and return to their lives. Arguments ensue. There are a handful of elite passengers who have enjoyed all the special perks the captain has given them on their voyage, so they go along with his cries of being attacked as they continue to enjoy their VIP privileges.  

While all of this is going on, the captain is ransacking the ship and taking whatever he can. He tells the passengers who believe him to fight for him. He tells them that the passengers who don’t agree with them are losers and part of the conspiracy against him. The captain-followers are enraged by this and ask the captain what they should do. He tells them to keep fighting for him and to give him money.

They do.

In the meantime, when he starts to realize that he can’t keep his job unless he stays out at sea…but that he can’t stay out at sea or they will die, he comes up with a plan. Since he will never admit failure, he will instead bring down one of the most glorious ships ever made as a way to show his strength. He reaches out to the elites to coordinate the destruction of the ship. These special few will escape on lifeboats while the masses go down with the ship. Since the captain is letting them take whatever they want with them, they go along with the plan.

So…while the captain-following passengers are busy attacking and fighting the other passengers, the captain goes around starting little fires that he fans into bigger ones. The elites are busy blocking exits and locking doors. The fires catch hold and start to cripple the ship. Some of the captain-following passengers see the fire but the captain just tells them that it will keep them warm and to go on fighting.

They do.

When the other passengers smell smoke, find the fires, and try to put them out, they realize it is too late. They try to run to the lifeboats, but thanks to the elites, they are trapped.

As this horror takes place below deck, the captain and the elites are filling all the extra lifeboats with their stolen goods and launching themselves away from the sinking ship. They watch the ship now fully engulfed in flames. They don’t seem to see it as a tragedy. After all, they made some serious money because of it. How can that be a tragedy? If anything, it is an “unfortunate byproduct” of their newfound additional wealth.  

The captain watches the flames in amazement. “Look at that,” he tells the elites. “Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you have ever seen? No one has ever sunk a ship that big before. No one. I’m the only one.” One of the elites piped up, “Yes, Captain…this has to be the biggest sabotage the world has ever seen.”

“Damn right,” the captain spat. “This will be my legacy.”