Dear Ms. L’Engle

Dear Ms. L’Engle,

My copy of A Wrinkle in Time, which I read in 5th grade.

It started as a school assignment

in 5th grade. Eighteen copies of A Wrinkle in Time lined up on the shelf like identical little soldiers as Mrs. Hitz talked about the first novel we were reading for the year. We were going to read 4 such novels between August and May. Yours has been with me ever since.

I still have the copy we read. Since our parents provided the money to buy the copies for the classes to share, we got to take them home at the end of the year. It has had an honored spot on my bookcase ever since. My steady companion for 30 years. It was my introduction to the sci-fi/fantasy genre of books. I loved the whimsy of Ms. Who, Ms. What, and Ms. Which. The tesseract boggled my young mind.

I related strongly to the heroine Meg, an awkward girl who doesn’t yet know or trust her abilities. Who doesn’t yet know where she fits in the world. My 11-year-old self hadn’t yet begun to really test what she was capable of let alone trust her abilities. Meg gave me a role model to learn from.

I eventually discovered there were four books about the adventures of Meg and her brothers. I devoured A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I couldn’t get into the adventures of Sandy and Dennys in Many Waters. I am sorry to say they were my least favorite characters in the world you created. The only book of the Time Quartet I didn’t read.

In college, I discovered Meg had a daughter, Polly, when I read An Acceptable Time. I was at another turning point as I was stepping into the adult world. I could relate to Polly just as I had Meg when I was 11.

I recently listened to A Wrinkle in Time on audiobook through my library. It reads just as well at 40 as it did at 11. This time, I was reminded that I still have that unsure girl in me, my own internal Meg, but I also have experience that reminds me I have been tested and that I am strong. I know what I can do and I can trust my skills. I now know my place in this world. Your books helped me make this journey because I could relate to your characters and their challenges. Thank you for bridging that gap so I could grow into who I am today.

Sincerely,

Catherine

The Myth of Independence

The definition of independence, obtained from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

I didn’t get out of bed or drive to work in the morning on my own. An alarm wakes me up. Someone who isn’t me designed that alarm. Someone who isn’t me maintains the power grid that powers my alarm clock. My hot shower is possible because of the water heater in my house, who was designed, installed, and maintained by other people. Austin Utilities provides the natural gas and water and maintains the pipes that bring these resources to my house. Someone who isn’t me constructed the bathroom in my house back in 1955, when my house was built by someone who was not me.

Someone who isn’t me paved the road I drive to work in the car I drive, which was built and designed by Mazda. The City of Austin clears the streets of snow and puts down ice melt and sand to make my trip safer.

The definition of independent, obtained from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

What we do today is possible because of those who came before us, who pathed the way for us. We work together to build the communities and world we live in. None of us live in a bubble. There are people who impact our lives that we will never know. The colleague who encouraged your grandpa on a hard day while he served for 4 years in WWII. The neighbor who motivated your great-great-grandparents to immigrate to a small town in rural Missouri in the 1870s. The philanthropist who made an anonymous endowment to your college provided the funds for the scholarship that paid for half of your tuition.

The lie we tell ourselves is that we did it all on our own. That we earned that scholarship without any assistance from another, nevermind teachers, parents, and tutors helped us with our school work. That we got ourselves out of bed and ready for work without assistance. That we take care of ourselves and no one else does. We are interconnected and dependent on each other in this world. None of us gets anywhere on our own. We were all helped by countless others we will never know in ways we can’t imagine.

Interdependence is how a society functions. There is no such thing as true independence if you live in a society. There is no way to be free of the influence of others when you live around others. It’s a myth we tell ourselves to calm our fears, boost our ego, and help us feel safe.

Night Riding

One late summer evening, I had the opportunity to take a night ride on my bicycle. Headed home from yoga, with my mat slug across my back, I decided to take the long way. The air was relatively dry for a late-August Minnesota night. The sun had set 15 minutes prior and the street lights were on.

The obnoxious light on my rear bike tire that helps keep me safe during night rides.

There is something special about a night ride. When I walk, I usually have my AirPods in, listening to a book or podcast, and I am playing Pokémon Go. Yes, I am a 40-year-old-grown-ass-woman who plays Pokémon. Go team Mystic! Since I am on my bike, my AirPods are out and my phone is secured in my bag. Riding gets my full attention.

The songs of crickets and cicadas become my soundtrack. The lights from the cars and street lamps cast ever-changing shapes on the pavement around me. I look down between my pumping legs and see that obnoxious light spin in and out of my vision on my back tire, each time a different hue of the rainbow.

I see pockets of the world in the darkness. The shape of a tree against the darkening sky. The dimly lit front stoop of a home. The flashing bubble-gums of the county mounty who caught himself a speeder along Oakland. I let this different world surround me, embrace me. There is a stillness that comes with night riding and I open to it. I feel the cool pockets of air on my skin. I enjoy the intimacy and privacy that comes with darkness.

My eyes catch the first “star” in the sky as I turn towards home. Jupiter is bright and hovers above, guiding me back to the land of lamps and light.

Turning Points

Image purchased from iStock by Getty Images.
Designed by nazlisart.

I woke up to the conversation on the radio. In my bleary state, I heard the voices say two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City. I was instantly awake and across the apartment to turn on the TV. The scenes were horrific. Straight out a disaster flick starring Bruce Willis. Moments later, the South Tower collapsed. I quickly showered and dressed for my day. Before I left my apartment for the Southwest Missouri State University campus, the North Tower Collapsed.

I canceled everything for the day and was glued to the TVs on campus and in apartments with friends. Silence and disbelief filled every space.

I sat with friends at their apartment in the afternoon and watched as Dan Rather aired a video for the first time showing people jumping from the buildings prior to their collapse.

I witnessed the wreckage of Flight 93, which passengers forced down in a field in Pennsylvania. Later, It was determined the plane’s likely final target was in Washington DC.

I observed the crumbled side of the Pentagon, where Flight 77 crashed into the building.

I heard the phone calls made by loved ones on the four planes the crashed that day. All sending one last message of love.

For the following year, there were cars everywhere sporting the American flag, Toby Keith and Alan Jackson played on repeat on country stations, and the U.S. collectively mourned the 2,996 people who died on that day in the towers and crashed flights. We were united in our grief and patriotism.

In a matter of minutes, we all lived in a different world. One that grew to include Homeland Security, full-body scans, no-fly lists, and a whole new meaning to the numbers 9 and 11.

In March of 2020, another major event struck the world – the Coronavirus.

All of the college classes I taught went online. Employees and students were sent home to help stop the spread.

Social distancing. Lessons on handwashing. Teams of sewers making masks out of every scrap of fabric they could find.

Zoom became the place to meet for class, meetings, and happy hour. Some of the world made a shift to baking bread at home, wearing PJs or yoga pants for everything, and drive-thru grocery pick-up. Alcohol sales skyrocketed.

Again, the world changed quickly and will be forever different. Finding the “new normal” was a common topic of conversation. Some accepted this reality, others chose to deny it.

Rather than coming together as we did nearly 20 years earlier when the towers fell, we split into groups. Maskers and anti-maskers and eventually vaxxers and anti-vaxxers. People who listened to the experts and believed what science was learning and people who didn’t. Conspiracy theories and misinformation spread faster than the virus thanks to social media.

The turning point we are facing now is more than a virus. More than masking, vaccinations, and the changing way we move and work in the world. We no longer agree on reality. We live in different news bubbles, worlds driven by whatever we chose to take as fact even if it’s really a falsehood. Lives where we get to deny reality because it makes us feel better, even if that denial kills others.

The turning point we face now is the division in our society. It’s an internal threat that can’t be addressed by invading another country. It has to start within each of us. We are our own worst enemies now. We are the hijackers, the terrorists in our nation. We are also the healers, the uniters if we so choose to be.

The question then is “Which do you choose?”

A Trashy Finish

Life is a Chemical Reaction

Life is a chemical reaction.

Sometimes it is a violent combustion reaction, leaving destruction in its path.

Other times it is a very orderly and predictable reaction that precipitates a beautiful outcome.

In every instance, the limiting reagent is time.

The Waitress

Fresh Start

It’s that magical time of year when new notebooks and folders line the aisles and there are 100 different writing implements to choose from – That’s right! Schools supplies are in stores!

I always loved this time of year growing up. By the end of summer, I was always ready to go back to school. See my friends. Return to my school routine.

I reveled in the trip to the store to get my school supplies for the year. All the notebooks, pens, folders, fresh Crayola markers, and cool new Trapper Keepers. I had a Trapper Keeper when I was in elementary school. It was an incredible invention for a school nerd like me. Made me feel like a cooler kid than I really was.

I say “school nerd” because even 16 years after I finished my master’s degree, I still take time to pour through the school supplies each year. I get excited when I see all the new things that have been created. The pretty gel pens, the grid-spaced composition notebooks, and the new organizational supplies for students (though none will ever be as awesome as the Trapper Keeper). I usually leave the store with at least a few new things for me to use.

As a teacher, I live by the semester just as students do. When I was a student, I saw the start of a new school year as an opportunity for a fresh start. New supplies, new clothes, and new opportunities for growth and learning. A chance to be a better me.

I still see the start of the academic year as a clean slate. A chance to do it all over again, and hopefully a little bit better than the previous year. This is a gift.

May we all be given the gift of a fresh start. May we all have the opportunity to do whatever we embark upon better than we did previously.

5-Minute Wonder

When I was growing up, my mom would tell me that it took me 36 hours to be born, but I have been the 5-minute wonder ever since.

I didn’t fully understand what she was saying then. As an adult, I realize that she’s not wrong. I may have taken my sweet time entering this world, but I have been making up for that leisure ever since.

I am a doer. I keep a bullet journal full of my goals, ideas, and tasks. I run on a schedule. I want to get it done, quickly, efficiently, and move on. I would rather work first and play later. I am driven and sometimes impatient. This is a strength and a weakness I am learning to work with.

I have decided to take this idea and use it as a series on this blog called 5-Minute Wonder. These will be short blogs that put an idea out there and then move on. I will tag them all as 5-Minute Wonder so they can be easily accessed together by readers. The posts in this series will appear randomly as I have short ideas and thoughts to share.

I hope you enjoy.