Tag: experience

The Day Harper Lee Wrote Back

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 10 Comments
Harper Lee 2
Harper Lee in 2007

The idea behind my Frabjous Friday posts is to share something joyful–or at least something that will make you smile. Today’s post was a very joyful moment in my life, and I’d like to share it with you. It happened 17 years ago almost to the day. It’s a little longer than my typical Friday post, but I hope you’ll find it worth your time.

Back when I taught high school English, my freshman class read To Kill a Mockingbird as one of our core novels. I loved that book as a student, and I treasured it as a teacher. So many layers to explore and think about all delivered in a wonderfully descriptive and even suspenseful way. There was no greater joy for me as a teacher than to see a student come alive within the pages of a book, and Ms. Lee’s one and only published novel kindled that time and again.

One of the activities that we did after reading it was to send notes to Harper Lee. The first time I did this and told the kids we were really going to send the letters, they were stunned. Really? In junior high they did the activity frequently, and it was just for “pretend,” as they called it. I told them why wouldn’t we send them when she is still around to receive them? This made them take their own words a little more seriously. A real author–one whose work many had grown to care for–would be reading it, after all!

I showed them all how I put their letters into a big manila envelope and addressed it to “Harper Lee, Monroeville, Alabama” with the proper zip code. Since Harper Lee was a recluse, this was the best I could do. I figured the town knew her whereabouts.

The first year’s letter writing experience had been positive enough that I did it again the next year, with much the same response from the students. As a teacher, it was satisfying to know that the kids realized their words were being delivered. It mattered.

I just didn’t know it mattered to Ms. Lee, too.

One day, a few weeks after the second batch of letters had been sent, I went to my teacher’s mailbox. Inside was an envelope the size of a thank you card, and I could see that the return address had “Monroeville, AL” written on it. My hands started to tremble. Was it possible that one of the nation’s great authors had written back to us?

Why, yes. Yes she did.

Harper

I couldn’t believe it. How kind she was to let my students (and me!) know that she had read every letter with “great care and enjoyment.” My students were giddy with excitement–and it’s not often you see 14-year-olds giddy about anything. It was a tremendous validation for them–and for me as an educator. Words matter. Thought matters. Kindness matters.

I hope my former students think back on that experience with joy. I know I do. Ms. Lee’s letter still graces my office and makes me smile every time I see it.

17 years ago Harper Lee wished me and my students a Happy New Year. How cool is that?

Happy New Year to all of you, too!

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view–until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” ~Atticus Finch

My Year in Review…Social Media Style

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 5 Comments
Reflecting back... (This was a pic I posted on FB.)
Reflecting back…
(This was a pic I posted on FB.)

It’s that time of year where we reflect on the previous 12 months and decide what changes we would like to make for the coming year. According to Facebook, which now has a feature that shows your “year in review,” my 2013 has been a happy year with various milestones to celebrate.

This amuses me. It looks like the way Facebook creates your year is by taking a random assemblage of your posts with the highest number of likes. Makes sense—in a Facebookian way. Likes = validation, and validation = reality in the social media world.

This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Facebook, though. I do. Social media, when kept in context, can be wonderful. Out of context…it can be ridiculous or even painful.

I have a few friends who do not “do” Facebook—for various reasons, including “stupid,” “I don’t have time for that crap,” “I don’t want to be a slave to it,” and “I don’t need people snooping around in my personal stuff.” Of course, they have every right to choose not to be on the site, but my response to them is almost always “it is what you make of it.”

Your social world is up to you. And I guess that is precisely what can be the good and bad of it. While some people do post the minute details of their days, most of my FB friends are judicious with what they post, and I get a peek into their lives that I wouldn’t have in an otherwise busy world.

And what is it we are peeking at? Many times when a person chooses what they deem to be “Facebook-worthy,” it’s that they are having fun somewhere or perhaps sharing a slice of life that made them smile. The good stuff.

Another pic I posted that was well "liked." A nice night out downtown.
Another pic I posted that was well “liked.” A nice night out downtown.

But there have also been many times where people have posted something where they needed support—maybe moral support or prayers—for a trouble on their heart and in their lives. This can be the very good stuff of Facebook. It gives me a chance to listen and offer compassion. To let someone know that I “heard” them when they were calling out. It may not be much, but it’s something.

When my mother was rehabilitating from a serious health issue and I asked people to send her cards…Voilà. Cards appeared. How cool is that?

I don’t often post that kind of thing, though, and my Year in Review reflects that. While my mom needing cards to brighten her day made the cut, many other harsh realities did not. And that’s okay. My Facebook 2013 will not accurately reflect all of my 2013 because I get to choose. Simple as that.

And if we remember that most people post with a filter, then perhaps we can reduce the statistics that show that people often feel worse after being on social media. Who needs or wants that?

We ought to be able to share in each other’s joys without it taking anything away from us. But, of course, it always helps to be considerate in what you’re posting, too. (It’s never fun to see photos of a big party where you wonder why you weren’t invited to it.) A little “golden rule” can go a long way.

So with an understanding that people typically choose the “good stuff” to show us, and a consideration that we shouldn’t flaunt our “good stuff,” Facebook can be a great way to stay in touch. Because of FB, I’ve been able to share in the joys and woes of friends that I couldn’t possibly have time to keep connected with in the “real” world. I am grateful for that.

Overall, if my 2013 was a student, I would be sending it to the Dean’s Office. But when I look at my 2013 on Facebook, I am reminded of some of the blessings that I have forgotten amidst the other craziness. What a nice gift.

I’d like to take a moment to say thank you for your readership. I know how hectic and full life is, so I appreciate it very much that you take some time out of your crazy day to read my words. Thank you.

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year and a 2014 full of blessings, peace, and hope…because…here it comes!

George Bailey, I’ll Love You Till the Day I Die

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ Leave a comment

I’m a bit of an It’s a Wonderful Life fan. (Like…it’s my very favorite-est!) I’ve already shared a bit about that. To me, the movie resonates deeply on a number of levels. But it’s Frabjous Friday time, so I won’t get into a long discourse on why this movie is so amazingly awesome.

What I will share here is a new joy that the movie is bringing me. See, I’ve always been an old movie buff, so it’s no shock that my relationship with IAWL began when I was just a kid (back in the day when the copyright had expired and they showed it approximately 20,498 times a season). But in this day and age, most people under 30 (or maybe even 40) are pretty much not interested in a black and white movie. (“It’s booooring.” Sigh.)

That’s why the fact that my kid is loving It’s a Wonderful Life is a huge joy to me. The torch has been passed. My kid is starting to “get” the depth that the movie has to offer, and I am delighted. As the years go on, I’m hoping his love for it grows, and that he’ll be able to share it with his child one day.

That’s all I’ll say on my beloved movie today. Except if you haven’t seen it in a while (or…ever?!?!?), you should make the time to do so. It will be time well spent. (And someday I’m going to watch it with the sole purpose of counting how many sayings from the movie have become a part of our family’s lexicon–I’m a little scared to find out. I know it will be a number deep into the double digits.)

Happy Frabjous Friday, folks. I hope you were all able to make some wonderful memories this Christmas season…after all, it IS a wonderful life!

[Email subscribers: please remember you will have to click through to my blog to view the clip.]

Fra GEE lay Redux

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments
Winter sunrise. Hope in the sky.
Beautiful winter sunrise. Hope in the sky.

This is a beautiful but crazy season. More things to get done, more places to go, and more people to see. Highs and lows come swiftly, leaving you in a swirl. At least it’s been that way for me. Continue reading “Fra GEE lay Redux” →

Sometimes the Absence of Pain Is Enough

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ Leave a comment

stomachOne of my personal mantras is “the absence of pain does not equal joy.” It’s a way of reminding me not to think that life is joyful just because conflicts have subsided or challenges have been met. There is more, and I don’t want to settle for less. However…on this Frabjous Friday, I am making an exception.

These last couple of days have been filled with sickness. First my son, and then me. An angry stomach bug made mincemeat out of us. It was powerful and mean. Yesterday, my son’s took a turn for the better right as mine took one for the worse. I was so grateful for this timing because it allowed me to take care of him long enough for me to collapse when he was improving.

Late in the night, as I was praying for mercy that the sickness would leave, I couldn’t help but think about those who are single parents and don’t have the luxury of a loving spouse to be the caregiver. Of those who are homeless and don’t have a bathroom that they can camp out in to weather this kind of storm. Of those who endure chemo and have their bodies ravaged time and again in hopes of killing a bigger monster. Being sick sucks, but I know that I have many blessings others don’t.

Amidst that mindfulness, though, it was still agony.

I am happy to report, though, that my son and I are on the mend–and that absence of pain brings me great joy today. It so totally does. So take the day off, personal mantra. Today is a day where I am delighted that the pain has subsided, and that is enough for me.

For any of you going through one kind of pain or another, I pray that your pain subsides and that you can have the joy of that absence. Sometimes it is the best life has to offer for a time, and we need to cling to it for all it’s worth.

PS–I know this isn’t usually what I aim to do for a typical Frabjous Friday post, but after our sickness bout, I am so delighted that I am even able to string words together to form sentences. For right now, it’s all I got.

Taken for Granite

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments
granite
GranTED, not granITE…

When I was little, I thought the saying was “taken for granite” instead of “granted.” And actually, there is truth to my misstated cliché. If you take something for granted, it’s a bit like believing it’s set in stone…when it’s not.

I’ve had major lessons in this throughout my life, and I’m thinking the same holds true for most people. That’s why sayings like “you don’t miss the water till the well runs dry” exist! Because we are taught over and again that reality doesn’t always align with our plan.

You think, assume, or hope your life is going to be one way, and then you see just how little “granite” has to do with anything. An early and major lesson on this front was losing a parent at a relatively young age. I had assumed my dad would be in my life much longer than he was—but that wasn’t in the plan. Big lesson in taking nothing for granted, right?

Apparently, though, I’m a hardhead. I seem to need reminders, and, as life would have it, I get plenty of them.

2013 clock

2013 has been one big, fat, ongoing reminder. It’s been like a droning lecture from a philosophy professor with long, crooked teeth and an ill-fitting tweed jacket. The kind of lecture where you try really hard in the beginning to take good notes and follow along but before long you find yourself slumped face down on your desk with drool on your hand, the taste of sleep in your mouth, and a huge crick in your neck. (College flashback, anyone?)

2013’s notes include lessons on not taking things like health, family, or employment for granted. Note to the Professor of Life: I get it. The lecture has sunk in. For now.

But unlike the outcome of the droning philosophy lecture, where the end result is probably a foggy understanding and a C+ on the exam, the upside of the life lesson is a renewed sense of blessing and appreciation.

The “granite” reminders continue their teaching with other formidable lessons…

When you need to box your way out of a tough situation, you learn who is in your corner.  

When you have to pare away nonessentials…you learn what IS essential.  

When you know how it feels to hurt to walk, you will make it your business to strive to run. 

When your life garden is full of challenges, you see compassion bloom. 

And when you see someone you love in pain, you focus outside yourself and remember the importance of both giving and receiving love and support.

The takeaways from a difficult year can be powerful, and as 2013 comes to a close, I’m calling it a honing year…All things work together for good…at least that is what I believe in and pray for.

I’m hoping I don’t need more reminders any time soon, though. Even for my thick head, I think I’ve had enough to last me for a while. But I am grateful that I am able to see the significance behind the struggles.

And if you are having a rough go of it, as so many people I know are, I hope that you, too, are able to find the meanings and blessings that bubble their way up through the muck. After all, the best “granite” we have to stand on is the faith in that which we cannot see.