“With any luck, you’re all enjoying your respective winter breaks. This happens to be the perfect time to read a book, watch a movie, and even enjoy a related snack. (Don’t forget to talk to your kids about the book and movie; compare and contrast the two versions of the story.)
The paragraph above is taken from my recently published essay, 5 Awesome Books and Movies (and the Food That Goes With Them) to Enjoy During Your Kids’ Winter Break. This was a fun list to write and brought me back to my teaching days.
Click here to read the essay in its entirety at Moms Don’t Have Time to Write and let me know if you have any favorite book, movie, and snack combinations!
I admit to not knowing a whole lot about Misty Copeland. But after watching the segment of “Dear…” on Apple TV+, which profiled Ms. Copeland, I wanted to learn more.
“Ballets are just stylized versions of these seemingly basic movements on a grand scale. If the basic strength and elegance of a barre class is like slipping on a little black dress, the challenge of dancing a full three-act ballet is like learning to accessorize for any occasion.”
Though we may appear to be vastly different, there were also several passages I read that made me feel as if Ms. Copeland was writing about a younger version of myself.
“I was a nervous child. And my unease, coupled with a perpetual quest for perfection, made my life much harder than it needed to be. “I think I was born worried. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t feel some kind of anxiety, especially in school, and my panic would begin from the moment I woke up, fretting that I would be late to homeroom, until I came back home in the early evening. I was just nervous about life, period. I felt awkward, as if I didn’t fit in anywhere, and I lived in constant fear of letting my mother down, or my teachers, or myself.”
“When I was a little girl, I lived in terror of being judged, of letting others down. I was the people pleaser.”
I really thought the only thing Misty Copeland and I would have in common was the fact we both grew up in Southern California. Reading her book made me realize there’s more to it than that.
And this is one of the reasons why I read as much as I do. This powerful feeling of connection and understanding.
If you could only write one letter to express your love to someone, who would you write it to?
For me, it’s easy to answer – my son, Ryan.
And I’m pleased to say the love letter I wrote to Ryan was included in the anthology A Love Letter (or Poem) To …
Here is the book’s blurb:
“Love in its many varieties, expressed in letters and poems from 202 writers worldwide, written to the object or objects of their affection, adoration, romantic passion, esteem and fantasy. Letters and poems to wives, to husbands, to children, to parents, to grandparents, to boyfriends, to girlfriends, to pets, to literary and film idols, and more. This is a book for anyone who loves love.“
Just a reminder – the holidays are coming up fast. This anthology could be the gift for the person in your life who loves love.
“Little does Ryan know that when I drive to school to pick him up, I’m usually rocking out. If I can’t find a good song on the radio (I like the spontaneity), I’ll play one of our mixed CDs. Ryan says the fact that our car plays CDs and doesn’t have an auxiliary jack for my phone makes it old – another faux pas.”
The paragraph above is taken from my most recently published personal essay, “Singing Out Loud Helps Ease My Chronic Pain (At the Risk of Embarrassing My Son)” which was published at Moms Don’t Have Time to Write.
As I continue working on my own memoir-in-essays, I find myself reading more memoirs. Partly because I’m curious about other people’s lives. But also because I’m curious to see how other writers did it. How did they structure their memoirs? What does their table of contents look like? Does their book include photos?
I discovered Cancer and Fishnet Stockings: How Humor Helped Me Survive a Life-Threatening Disease, the Loss of My Favorite Nail Polish… and Other Calamities by Maryann Grau when our family spent a few days in Cambria (one of our most favorite places, along California’s Central Coast). The book was for sale in one of the shops in town, and when the cashier told me it was written by a local author, I knew I had to buy it.
While reading the book, it’s impossible to miss Ms. Grau’s positive outlook and spunk.
Here are a few gems:
“A few of the patients aimed weak smiles in my direction. My heart ached for them and their predicament, as though I wasn’t facing initiation into the same club. The question Why me? flashed through my mind followed immediately with the obvious answer …Why not me?”
“Thinking back on the past hour of excruciating pain, I was reminded of an Ayn Rand quote I had read many years ago in her novel Atlas Shrugged. In discussing emotions, Rand begins with the premise that ‘joy is not the absence of pain.’ I understood and accepted the concept immediately, but never was it more self-evident to me until now. To not feel pain, physical or emotional, is a good thing, but it is a neutral feeling at best. Joy comes when you awake to find yourself wrapped in the arms of someone you love.”
“Just a little more than a year after the operation, and I sometimes think, my cancer may be back. The thought hits me hard. Not the cancer itself – the revelation that I used the word my. The acceptance of it, the familiarity with it, the ownership of that dreaded disease by referring to it as ‘my cancer.’ “Don’t we hold things that belong to us as good, desirable, worthy, or even cherished? Does the word ‘my’ presuppose that the things that belong to us are good for us; things like my home, my career, my garden, my child, my love? Shouldn’t cancer belong in the category used to describe words that distance themselves from us, like ‘that thief, that scoundrel, that crummy movie, that poison, that killer disease’?”
And from her last chapter, where she offers “words of wisdom”:
“Every one of us will face death…eventually. But why help it along by standing still? Instead, learn something new to keep your mind active, to grow intellectually.”
“Keep moving! Especially outdoors. That’s where most of life happens.”
“Let others help you. If you’re stubbornly independent like I am, get over it!“
It’s mid-November. Which means there are weeks, mere weeks, until kids will be home on winter break (for weeks!). For many families, it can be an uphill battle to get the kids to do anything academic, anything that even hints at school.
Which means you need to get creative and disguise it as fun!
I’m pleased to share that Moms Don’t Have Time to Write has recently published my article 5 Ways to Ensure Your Kids Don’t Forget Everything They Learned in School While On Winter Break.
To read it, and maybe become inspired to try multiplication volleyball, click here.
(I may be in pain, but it’s fall, and a star-shaped leaf in my yard makes me smile)
The other day my next door neighbor asked, “How are you? How’s your health?”
I really wasn’t sure how to answer her. The short answer, and what I told her, is “Okay,” because I am okay-enough. I’m getting things done on my to-do list, keeping up with all my obligations, meeting all my writing deadlines, making dinner each night.
But the truth is it’s been a rough couple of weeks.
And sometimes I’m not so sure I really am “okay.”
The pain has been pretty intense. The other night when my mom and I were chatting on the phone, she asked me if I had done something that might have contributed to the bad pain day I was having. (I think she meant something like take a long walk or gardened for an extended period of time.)
I told her the truth. “I woke up.”
I woke up with bad pain. It stayed all day. Totally out of my control.
I’m also awaiting test results which is never an easy situation to be in. On the one hand, I never want doctors to find something new – which in my head means something scary, something bad. But on the other hand, if something did show up, maybe it would alter my treatment plan which would then maybe lessen my pain. Maybe it would give doctors an answer, so I wouldn’t have to hear, “We don’t know why…”
I received my booster for the covid vaccine. Which leaves me feeling oh-so-grateful to the researchers and scientists and medical professionals who made that possible. (And I feel badly, because I forgot to bring the nurse a snack. Each time our family has gone in for a covid vaccination shot, we’ve given the nurse a snack – a granola bar or bag of chocolate-covered almonds. It was a small way of saying “thank you,” and “we appreciate you.” But I forgot the snack at home on that Friday morning for the kind nurse who gave me my booster and chatted with me about books.)
And I almost fell. Twice in one week. Both times at night. Both times in my son’s bedroom – once before we read and once after we had read. I kind of flopped onto my son’s bed the first time and grabbed onto my husband’s arm the second time. But the incidents left me feeling shaken and scared.
1. Our future is in good hands. Capable, creative, competent, compassionate, female hands. Women who acknowledge problems and situations that need to be changed, fixed, resolved. Women who don’t just talk about making change; they actively make the change.
2. I have a lot to learn. While the book did include some familiar names (including Malala Yousafzai, Geena Davis, Hillary Rodham Clinton, Amanda Gorman, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg to name just a few), most of the women featured in this beautiful book were unknown to me.
The book highlights 100 women from around the world; women who are working in the fields of education, the environment, politics, healthcare, and more.
All of these women deserve to be highlighted, so how to choose who to write about for a blog post? In a very unscientific way, I made my decision by flipping through the book and randomly selecting these four women:
Kakenya Ntaiya of Kenya. “Founder and president of the Kakenya Center for Excellence, an organization committed to ensuring that every girl in her community has the opportunity for a different future, armed with education and free from violence.”
Michelle Bachelet of Chile. “Dedicated her life to achieving equality and human rights for all as a public servant, at the United Nations and as Chile’s first female president.”
Priti Patkar of India. “Co-founder and director of Prerana, an organization committed to ending the cycle of intergenerational sex abuse and human trafficking in the red-light district of Mumbai, India.”
Christelle Kwizera of Rwanda. “Founder of Water Access Rwanda, an award-winning innovative social enterprise offering tailor-made solutions for the collection, distribution and purification of water.”
I got it from Carolyn See and her fantastic book Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers. (If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. I’ve read this book several times, and each time, I find something new that touches me. Each time, I also laugh out loud.)
Here’s what Carolyn See said in Chapter 4 – Charming Notes:
“…you write one charming note to a novelist, an editor, a journalist, a poet, a sculptor, even an agent whose professional work or reputation you admire, five days a week, for the rest of your life. Then after you write the note, you address it, put a stamp on it, and mail it out. These notes are like paper airplanes sailing around the world, and they accomplish a number of things at once.
“They salute the writer (or editor or agent in question). They say to him or her: Your work is good and admirable! You’re not laboring in a vacuum. There are people out in the world who know what you do and respect it.
“The notes are also saying: I exist, too. In the same world as you. Isn’t that amazing? They can also say: Want to play?”
I don’t write “charming notes” five days a week. But I do make an effort to contact a writer and let him/her know their words touched me. Sometimes, I look up their website and fill out the “contact me form.” Sometimes, I write them an email. Now that I’m on Instagram (@wendykennar), sometimes I comment on one of their photos related to what I just read.
Sometimes I hear back — a simple “thank you,” a longer, several-line email.
And sometimes, I receive no reply. But that’s okay.
Because I know I wrote the notes, and I like to think my “charming notes-paper airplanes” are out in the world, flying about, spreading bits of goodness and positivity.
“As Ryan pierced a slice of cucumber and pushed it around the puddle of French dressing forming at the bottom of his bowl, he said, ‘This is the first time I didn’t miss you when I went back to school.’
I smiled. I knew exactly what he meant.
No parent really wants to hear they’re not missed, but I also knew the larger significance of Ryan’s words. I realized the importance of his statement.”
I’m thrilled to share my personal essay, “I’m Proud My Son Said He Didn’t Miss Me” was recently published on Moms Don’t Have Time to Write.
WendyKennar.com 