dare to dream

Mother's Day Concert Featuring Macy Robison

You are cordially invited to a Mother's Day concert featuring Macy Robison on May 8 in Weston, MA.

This will be a cabaret-style performance titled Children will Listen:  Reflections on Mothering, comprised largely of Broadway songs about mothers and mothering, including Just a Housewife from Working and The Hardest Part of Love from Children of Eden by Stephen Schwartz.

Macy Robison is a music educator in Shrewsbury, MA, was a Young Ambassador at Brigham Young University, recently directed the Boston, MA musical Savior of the World and performed in the first casting of that show in Salt Lake during the 2002 Winter Olympics.

Macy first performed Children Will Listen in January at Fusion, a salon-style discussion group to which I belong.  As she sang of her longing for children, grief at the sudden death of her own mother, and joy at the birth of her son, there wasn't a dry eye amongst us.

I can't think of a better way to celebrate Mother's Day than by attending this event with women I love and admire -- I do hope you'll join me! 

P.S.  After the Fusion event, I asked Macy if I might accompany her on May 8.  If you know of my love-hate relationship with music, my asking to participate should give you some sense of how moved I was by Macy's performance.  Her prior accompanists were kind enough to share this privilege with me.  Lots of practicing to do -- but I can't wait!

P.P.S.  Those of you that are Resolutionary Challenge alums, don't forget that I will be hosting a luncheon May 8 at noon at Henrietta's Table in Harvard Square.

Read with Me

The destiny of the world is determined less by the battles that are lost and won than by the stories it loves and believes in.  Harold Goddard

I love books.

I love bookstores.

I love to gift books.

I love to read.

By myself.

And especially with my children.

I eagerly read The Amaranth Enchantment to my daughter Miranda.  It was especially fun to brainstorm with her around a list of questions for Mother-Daughter book clubs.  When author Julie Berry posts some permutation of what we've written, I'll include the link.  

I was also thrilled when my son David finally started reading Ender's Game, a book that has long been a favorite of my husband's and of mine.   It took some 'righteous bribery' to get David to read the book (e.g. you can't play your video game until we've read a chapter together).  But he finally started, and once he started, he didn't stop; a week later, he's on the second read-through. 

There aren't many things that I LOVE, WANT to do with my children...

But when it comes to reading, my children aren't doing the asking, I am.

 
Courtesy:  Sarah Jane Studios

Why I love books and reading -- and what this all has to do with 'dare to dream', I'm not yet sure.

When I figure it out, I'll let you know.

In the meantime, perhaps there are clues in the question a reporter recently asked me.  It was --  'Why are so many Mormon women writing Young Adult fiction?'

Here are some answers, all with slightly different takes.

1. Faith and good works
2. The fantastic world of the Mormon Mom
3. Mormon mompreneurs make their mark in literature and beyond

Here's mine.

Mormon women writing YA Lit is at the confluence of several cultural dynamics:  love of learning, an emphasis on stay-at-home mom-ing, and a desire for self-expression, but in snatches.

Love of learning
In our canon of scriptures there’s a verse (Doctrine & Covenants 93:36) which reads “The glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth.”   This verse is not only oft-quoted, it is embraced.   It has been said that Mormonism is one of the few religions for which religiosity and education are positively, rather than negatively, correlated.  More recently, church leader President Hinckley said, “Get all the education you can.”  From a very young age, we are taught to love and seek out learning.

Emphasis on Stay-At-Hom Mom-ming
Parenting is important to us.  We view God as our Father, which is why you will so often hear Mormons refer to God, not as God, but as Heavenly Father especially when we pray, at least that is how I refer to Him.  We place an especially high priority on mothering, on rearing and nurturing children, and doing so as stay-at-home moms.

Because nearly all parents want their children to believe what they believe, to love what they love, many Mormon mothers instinctively gravitate toward children’s books that clearly delineate between right and wrong.  One of my happiest childhood memories is of my mother reading to me.  My best-loved books are, in retrospect, those with a strong moral bent.  They include A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle and The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe, books which I’ve read to my own children.

Self-expression in snatches
Many Mormon women have interests, hobbies, and an ambition to build or create something.   Money isn’t necessarily a constraint, but time is.   Whatever form self-expression takes, it has to happen during discretionary time - when the kids are napping, sleeping – at school.

Do you enjoy reading to your children?  What have you loved reading to them?

For those of you that participated in the Resolutionary Challenge, did you notice that when books came up, we couldn't stop talking?

Why do you think Mormon women are writing YA literature?

Related posts:

1. Stories we love and live by
2. Tell your story
3. Asking and answering the big questions
4. Storytellers wanted
5. When our loved ones ask 'what about me?'
   

Looking for the 'I' in the Twilight Series

I just finished Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn which, like the first three novels, I read in less than 24 hours.

But even as I continue to read and buy her books, I find myself increasingly discombobulated.

There are so many things to like.

The deeply romantic 'girl-gets-swept off her feet by two knights in shining armor' plot.

The fact that 'Bella is loved because she exists - not because she does everything right - and deep down this is what we all want -- to be loved for our very existence', as Janna commented in my "Allure of the pom-pom" post (see below); being loved for our very existence should be (I believe is) an inalienable right.

Then there's Bella's relatedness and nurturing and connecting, traits innate to women, which all too often are under appreciated by others, as well as ourselves.

And yet, believing as I do -- in the importance of moving ourselves to the center of our life story, learning to establish priorities, to accomplish goals, to learn to say no -- I've found myself in a surprising love/hate relationship with Meyer's books.

Because as hard as I try, I just can't find the 'I'-dentity.

Whether it's Bella having no interest in an education, to her continual physical danger from which she needs to be rescued, to her inability to set boundaries.

In response to a prior post (see 'An A or F on the Galadriel Test' below) some have noted that Bella and Edward do not engage in pre-marital sex. Which is true. But only because of Edward's unusual self-control.

Even if I set aside the unrealistic world view that there are more than a few men who could resist their beloved throwing herself at him, I am very uncomfortable with the idea of being beholden to another's integrity. Of doing the right thing not because I choose to, but because I happen to be surrounded by others who do.

Some days it would be nice -- I would like to be two again -- but most of the time I really do want to grow up, to embark on the Psyche-like journey of feminine development. I think most of us do.

Being loved is an inalienable right, but exercising choice is too.

Can you recommend any books with female characters that are both/and? Connected like Bella, but also learning to establish priorities, achieve goals, to exercise choice?

My friend Kathleen P just recommended the Sandra Gulland series "The Many Lives & Secret Sorrows of Josephine B."

I've only just begun the book, but maybe.

Any others?

Some of you are going to disagree with me -- some of you are going to wonder why I am spending so much time thinking about this, whatever your thoughts -- I'd love to hear them.

P.S. Sarah Palin was appointed the Republican VP nominee yesterday. Perhaps she's a both/and role model. Too early to really know. But early indications tell me she's someone to watch.

Related posts:
An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel test?
Et tu, Whitney?
The allure of the pom-pom
What I've learned by identifying my heros
Second thoughts on Psyche's 2nd task

Enchanted anger

Were you surprised by the title of the above article?

Me neither.

We girls learn from a very young age that we shouldn't get angry.

But is it anger that we shouldn't do?

Or rage?

Rage is yelling at our child, maybe even hitting him, when he spills juice on a brand new carpet we can't afford to replace.

Rage is a mother sabotaging her daughter's attempts at life and love when she sees her daughter having opportunities the mother either didn't have, or gave up.

If we have reached the point of rage, but have managed to hold it in (because nice girls don't get angry), we just might be depressed: depression is rage turned inward.

Rage is about losing control, when we say things and do things that we will long regret.

So, rage is definitely out.

But anger?

Oh yes -- definitely in.

Anger tells us something is amiss, that something or someone (possibly our selves) needs to be attended to, that a boundary has been crossed.

Courtesy: istockphoto

Anger is locking ourself in the closet, calling our closest friend, and sobbing about the juice spill, knowing that our 2 year-old is safe because he is banging on the door as we speak.

Anger is recognizing that in any choice made there are trade-offs. That we may be angry with our daughter not because of her but because we have become so Martha-like, we've forgotten that we get to be Martha AND Mary.

When we acknowledge our anger, rage never happens.

There is a wonderful lesson about anger in the film Enchanted.

Innocent Princess Giselle is back-and-forthing with Patrick Dempsey's cynicism and the words, 'You....you....make me so angry', spill out. With this utterance, Princess Giselle has defined a boundary for her self, thus undergoing a rite of passage necessary to becoming more of who she is.

Has your anger recently helped you identify a boundary you didn't know you had?

When we become angry, are we not saying 'no', as Psyche was required to do in her 4th task?

The next time you become angry, will you pause and be grateful for the information your anger is giving you: about what matters to you, about how you want your life to unfold?

When we attend to the anger, what Giselle-like thing can happen in our life?

P.S. If you'd like to read more in praise of anger, there is a powerful essay titled 'Damning the River' in Rachel Naomi Remen's book Kitchen Table Wisdom.

P.P.S. If you ever have something you feel others would find helpful to hear, but tend to be a private person, just send to me your thoughts, and I'll post it as 'Whitney's friend who would like to remain anonymous"...

Related posts:
A down payment on our dream
The Myth of Psyche
Martha and Mary
When we say no
Dreaming or deflecting?

Martha and Mary

Do you remember the biblical story of Mary and Martha, the two sisters who host Jesus in their home? Martha focuses on preparing and serving the meal, while Mary sits at His feet, listening and learning.

Do you also remember that when Martha says to her Guest -- Is it really alright that Mary isn't helping me attend to preparing and serving?, and He responds, Yes, for "Mary hath chosen the good part."

Painting by Minerva Teichert

As a study in feminine psychology, I find this story intriguing.

We generally consider women to be feminine within the context of a relationship, or when we are giving something (resources or recognition) to someone else.

And yet, this story -- which is revered, and believed to be true, by billions of Christians -- gives women permission to listen and learn, to find our self. When we consider the historical context (c. 2,000 years ago when women's roles were far more circumscribed), this 'permission' is even more powerful.

Does this mean that women shouldn't care for and nurture others?

Of course not.

But it does suggest that to develop into our full self we need to do both: say Yes to our relationships (be Martha-like), and Yes to our self (be Mary-like).

What we need more of will depend.

Some of us may need to be a bit more Martha-like.

But if my sample set is any indication, most of us could use a little more Mary.

What about you? Do you tend toward Mary or Martha?

Have you noticed that when we learn to marry Martha and Mary, we are completing Psyche's four tasks, the prototypical female hero's journey?

Related posts:
Say yes to you
Play to your strengths
Psyche's 4th Task: Learn to say no
Why I liked Wicked
Rachel and Leah: Reclaiming our power to dream

The hazards of 'Getting in the Game'

"Throw down your pom-poms and get in the game."  A phrase I heard frequently during the late 80's, early 90's while working on Wall Street.

In one of my very first posts (see below), I boldly implored women to throw down our pom-poms, get in the game, our game, and be the hero of our story.

Photo courtesy of john carleton @ istockphoto

1 1/2 years later, I am astonished that I employed this metaphor.  I knew about being a cheerleader, but as an early days Title IX gal, I've never played competitive sports, and thus had no experience with 'literally' getting in the game.

Ahh, the bluster of inexperience.

Obviously, I knew that football players wear helmets and pads because it's dangerous, you get bumps, bruises, and broken bones.  But I didn't know.

No doubt I had glorified the 'getting in the game' of my life whether at home, work or in the community, not recognizing that this would involve saying no and negotiating conflict, none of which my cheerleading had prepared me to do.

I'm learning, but because I'm not good at it, I can feel pretty beaten up some days.

Photo courtesy groveb @ istockphoto

As I've nursed my wounds by sharing them with my friends, two of them, both of whom are psychologists by training, said something strikingly similar:

Learning to negotiate conflict is an important developmental milestone, one that ultimately enhances and strengthens our relationships.

Did you know this?

I didn't.

Does this mean that if we throw down our pom-poms, and get in the game, when we pick our pom-poms back up, we'll be even better cheerleaders, better heros of support?

Isn't this what Psyche did?  She went on a hero's journey, which required her to learn to say no, so that she could say yes to her relationships.

When have you set boundaries recently?  Said no?  Negotiated conflict?

Hard?

For me too.

Helmet and pads required.

Related posts:
Throw down your pom-poms
It's just a game!  Precisely!
Three cheers for oxytocin
Psyche's 4th Task:  Learning to say no
What I've learned from identifying my heros

Et tu, Whitney?

"It is only when an anomaly is identified....that the opportunity to improve theory occurs." Paul Carlile, Clayton Christensen

In responding to "An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel test?" in which I discussed my love-hate relationship with the Twilight trilogy, Amy politely wondered if I would feel as I do had these books been penned by a man.

Specifically, Amy asked, "Is there more to your view than expecting more of people because we know their beliefs? Does it goes back to your discussion of what it means to be feminine? Perhaps your ideas about women and ambition are broader than you had supposed. That it's not just about large-scale power, but rather any time women move outside of perceived guidelines our society squirms?"

A is for Amy, anomaly, and Amy appears to be absolutely right.

I have read over 25 books by Orson Scott Card, another fellow Mormon. Yet I've never had the kind of visceral reaction to his books, frequent Ten Commandment non-compliance notwithstanding, as I did to Meyers' book.

Do you remember the Bem Sex-Role Inventory's finding that women are only feminine within the context of a relationship and when we are giving something (resources, recognition) to someone else?

And isn't it true, that when women move beyond perceived guidelines (as did Ms. Meyer), we are crossing into a territory in which we are not sovereign, and are thus figuratively taking something from someone else?

Et tu, apply the double standard Whitney?

Lamentably, yes.

What are your thoughts?

Related posts:

An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel test?
Why we are skeptical of Hillary Clinton
Do you need to 'Do it yourself?'
NY Times -- For Girls, It's Be Yourself, and Be Perfect, Too
Throw down your pom-poms
A space for women's voices

An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel test?

I recently read Stephenie Meyer's vampire trilogy, Twilight, Eclipse, New Moon, "the story of 17-year-old Bella Swan who moves to the small town of Forks, Washington to live with her father, and becomes drawn to Edward, a pale, mysterious classmate who seems determined to push her away. But neither can deny the attraction that pulls them together…even when Edward confides that he and his family are vampires."

To say I read these books is an understatement, inhaled or devoured are more accurate.

After picking up Twilight in the Cincinnati airport around 6pm on a Saturday, I began reading immediately, proceeded to read until 3am, and had finished all three books by the following Saturday. My friends that read the books also read them quickly. I couldn't help but use the descriptor "intoxicating", with the realization that the archetype of Western romantic love (girl and boy meet, their attraction is inescapable, their love immutable) continues to be a story that we love and live by.

Apart from not being able to drink deeply enough from these books, which is only marginally relevant to 'dare to dream', the fact that, in the third book, Bella importunes, even begs, Edward to make love to her, is.

I know this appears to be a non-sequitur, but stay with me.

First of all, you may be thinking, "Whitney, this is not unusual, men and women who are in love (and not in love) have sex before they are married all the time. It's a societal norm in the Western world."

And I would answer, yes, that is true, but not if you are a Mormon as I am -- and as is Stephenie Meyer. Mormons believe that a physically intimate relationship is so sacred that we wait until we are married, no matter how strong the attraction. (By the way, it is difficult; hormones are hormones regardless of race or religion).

So here's the 'dare to dream' point.

When I started reading Meyer's books, I knew she had gone to BYU, as had I, and is Mormon, as am I. Because I could identify with her on multiple levels, I was eager to learn from her about daring and dreaming.

So -- to get to her third book, New Moon, and read that Bella wanted to break with a belief that Mormons generally hold dear, rocked my world.

Alternately angry, but mostly sad, I have found myself repeatedly wondering:

1) While we are daring and dreaming -- For our dream to be embraced by a wide audience, do we have to part with cherished values?

2) Once we achieve our dream -- Because Bella's fervent plea didn't take place until the third book, long after Meyer's first two books were NY Times bestsellers, is it possible that once we achieve our dream, more and more influence becomes so irresistible that we can't help but grab onto the ring, and fail our Galadriel test?

Bottom line?

I don't know Stephenie Meyer; I purposely excluded her name from the blog title because I didn't want the focus to be her, but rather our having a discussion about what I think is a crucial question:

As we dream AND once we are achieving our dream(s), is it inevitable that we are corrupted by the power that we want or have? If corruption IS avoidable, how? In other words, how do we avoid going to Rachel's dark side, and pass our Galadriel test?

What are your thoughts?

Do you see this differently?

Can you think of women who have achieved a dream without sacrificing their 'who they are' along the way?

What about women who, having achieved their dream, and already wield considerable influence, continue to pass the Galadriel test?

For those of you that want to explore further the psychology of love, Robert A. Johnson wrote a marvelous book titled We, Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love that looks at the myths our society has about love, using the story of Tristan and Iseult, and then looks at what love can be. I read this book several years ago, and can't recommend it highly enough.

What I've learned by identifying my heros

Writing about my heros (which you can find at the bottom of this post) was indeed revelatory. Here's why:

1) I was surprised by how much my heros have changed over time -- from Bewitched's Samantha to Peggy Noonan?

2) It was also interesting to observe that my childhood heros were imaginary. A reminder just how much children identify with the imaginary, magical world. I wonder too if I over-agonize about the quantity of television my children consume. I clearly watched television as a child, yet most would consider me a contributing member of society.

Who were your heros as a child? Who are they today? How have they changed?

2) My heros have played a greater role in who I've become than I would have predicted prior to this exercise.

Example A: The fact that I so admired Samantha and Shirley Partridge as a young girl makes it a lot less surprising that I care about mothering well, my many years of "not wanting to have kids yet" notwithstanding.

Given your current vantage point, anything about your childhood heros that surprises you?

Example B: I'm rather astonished that my interest in attending UCLA was piqued because of their cheerleaders; were it not for a providential fluke, I would be a UCLA graduate. Which leads me to wonder what other decisions I've made on the basis of who I admire. Perhaps more importantly, why did I admire them in the first place?

What about you? Any decisions that you've made that now surprise you given how little forethought went in to the decision?

Example C: If I consider a cheerleader a metaphor for a hero of support, I've observed that in some aspects of my life I've internalized this role so thoroughly, it has actually been problematic as I've pursued my career. Sometimes you can be too good at something.

3) On the premise that my childhood heros have helped shape who I've become, I am consequently hopeful that I can become like my current heros, whether Peggy Noonan, Laura Laviada, Galadriel, or India.Arie. That I can, in fact, successfully undergo Psyche's journey, learning to be the ship AND the harbor, the hero of support AND the hero.

Who are your heros today?
What do they tell you about what you are hoping to accomplish?
Who and how you want to be?

****

Below is what I wrote for Matt Langdon's Heros Interviews:

My hero as a young girl was Samantha on Bewitched. She was pert, adorable, and no matter what kind of tangle she found herself in, she could make things better with a wiggle of her nose. I also idolized Shirley Jones, who played the mother in The Partridge Family with whom I became even more enamored when I saw her as the ingénue in the film Oklahoma. As an eight year-old, it was magical to see that the same person could be a mother and ingénue.

In high school, my heros were pretty, popular, feminine cheerleaders. So much so that UCLA became my top college pick because I loved watching their song girls perform whenever they played Stanford in football (my father took us to Stanford football games every fall from the time I was 7-8 years old). Footnote: Stanford was actually my top choice, but I was on the waiting list, whereas I was accepted to UCLA.

My heros today are women who successfully embark on Psyche’s journey: they’ve learned to say no, to exercise choice, to achieve goals without throwing their caring and compassionate selves under the bus. In other words, I see all of these women as living in a both/and world.

These heros include: Peggy Noonan, a Wall Street Journal columnist who made her name as a speechwriter for Ronald Reagan, Laura Laviada, the former CEO and major shareholder of Editorial Televisa, Mexico’s largest magazine publisher (and who I had the privilege of interacting with when I covered the stock Televisa (NYSE: TV), Galadriel in Lord of the Rings, and India.Arie, a musician-singer-songwriter who it would appear loves Stevie Wonder’s music even more than I do. Until very recently, I would have also included Sydney Bristow, the fictional lead in the television show Alias.

What if Madeleine L'Engle hadn't dared to dream?

You have something that IT has not. This something is your only weapon. But you must find it for yourself. Mrs. Which, A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle.

One of my beloved childhood books was A Wrinkle in Time. In re-reading the below passage from Ms. L'Engle's memoir A Circle of Quiet, I couldn't help but wonder, what if she had given up on her ambition, if she hadn't dared to dream?

She writes:

I am often asked how I came to write A Wrinkle in Time.

Even with all the hindsight of which I am capable I can't quite explain it. It was during a time of transition. We had sold the store, were leaving the safe, small world of the village, and going back to the city and the theatre.

While we were on our ten-week camping trip from the Atlantic to the Pacific and back again, we drove through a world of deserts and buttes and leafless mountains, wholly new and alien to me. And suddenly into my mind came the names, Mrs. Whatsit. Mrs. Who. Mrs. Which.

But why did those names come to me just then, and from where? I haven't the faintest idea. I suppose that my writing mind, which is always at work no matter what is happening on the surface level, took over from there. I had brought along some...Einstein, a few other books on cosmology...and...the influence of these books on Wrinkle is obvious. I was also quite consciously writing my own affirmation of a universe which is created by a power of love.

After an early rejection (there were many), "X turned down Wrinkle...saying he loved it, but didn't quite dare do it, as it isn't really classifiable. I know it isn't classifiable, and am wondering if I'll have to go through the usual hell with this that I seem to go through with everything I write...[and yet] this book I'm sure of. If I've ever written a book that says what I feel about God and the universe, this is it. This is my psalm of praise....

...In 1963 (c. three years after the above entry), when I was in Chicago to receive the Newberry Medal for A Wrinkle in Time, a woman who was a fine editor...but who had rejected Wrinkle, said to me, "I know I should have published this book. But I wonder: if I had accepted A Wrinkle in Time, would it have been the right moment for it? If it had been published then, maybe you wouldn't be here now...."

She was a very wise woman.

1. Are you in a time of transition, a "bleak period of your life" as L'Engle describes the period during which she wrote Wrinkle?

2. What activities are you involved in, what books are you reading, that could be furthering your dream?

3. Are you in the unknown right now? How does it feel?

4. If your dream is facing rejection after rejection, is it possible that the timing is not yet right?

5. When you tell your story, in whatever form it takes, what beliefs will you be affirming?

6. For those of you that have read A Wrinkle in Time, think for a moment about protagonist Meg Murry and how her journey parallels that of Psyche's: Meg willlingly undertakes a journey fraught with danger so as to find her father.

7. If you don't dare to dream, what gift to the world that only you can give, might not be given?