"More fight in us than we know"
“There is no fairness to any of the barbaric events of 2020. But they have given us the sacred opportunity to look out for our loved ones — and to help them, and ourselves, be stronger than we ever knew we could.” - Nicholas Weinstock, LA Times
In this Issue:
Fighting and a short read that made me think differently about it
Voting update
Fighting with their minds and talent - Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the no-less notorious Kristina Wong
A Moment of Zen — from a Sparker in Scotland
An apology to East Coast Sparkers
So, this week I’m thinking about what it means for me — a well-meaning white woman of a certain age — to fight.
I’m thinking about it every day. I’m thinking about what it meant that Ruth Bader Ginsburg fought for justice, fought for women, fought to live. I’m thinking about the protesters seeking justice in the wake of injustice to Breonna Taylor. I’m thinking about the thousands and thousands of people who are fighting grief and despair over lost jobs and loved ones.
I’m thinking about what is happening to our democracy and just what I am prepared to do to fight for it or if I will have what it takes. The threat is real and, for me, visceral. My fighting instincts, though, are less certain after years of not really needing them. So far, my efforts have been focused on things I can do from the safety of my house — texting and writing to get out the vote, calling elected officials, donating to organizations who are leading the fight for democracy and racial justice as well as bail funds for protestors. I am ready to vote the day my ballot arrives in the mail because I’ve been researching the issues and helping others do the same. I’ve reached out to family members and friends who live or know folks in states that could be critical to urge all to register and to vote. I’m trying to gear up, finally, to do the thing I hate most: call voters on the phone.
What makes us willing to fight? Will it take a direct threat to someone I love to vault me out of my safety zone? Will it depend on my resources and who is helping me? Or is it instinctive, just something we do when someone or something we care about is in trouble?
When I glimpsed this Op-Ed by Nicholas Weinstock I wanted to turn the page as quickly as possible. The photo that accompanied it was tragic, a little dog scarred and stitched and still bloody from an attack by two pit bulls. I didn’t need more tragedy, even — especially — dog-sized ones. Then I read on and found a very different and more hopeful story from the one I expected. His dog comes through (important to know for us dog lovers). The main focus, though, is on what happens when the lives of someone or some being that we love is threatened. It is a story of discovering what we are capable of and how aggression does not have to be met with more aggression. There are remarkable acts of tolerance, understanding and accommodation on all sides along with acceptance that we live in an unpredictable world.
I remember a confrontation at an Orlando, Florida hospital twenty-plus ago when my son, then in his early twenties and living in Gainesville, drove over to see me at my hotel while I was on a business trip. That night, after dinner, he got very very sick. He was in acute pain and vomited so much and so unrelentingly that he was dehydrating in front of my eyes. We went to the nearest ER twice in two nights. The first time, everyone was helpful. The second time, the doctor on call never even looked at him. Instead, a male physician assistant took over. When I asked about his treatment— so different from the night before — when I asked for additional tests, the man grew visibly irritated then angry. When my son did not improve, I tried one more time.
“Ma’am,” the physician assistant said. “One more word and I will have you physically removed.” He and his fragile ego stood there behind a counter shielded by his authority, his gender, and control over my son’s fate.
I’ll never forget the instinctive rage I felt, how frustrated I was that he would not listen. I imagined myself reaching over the counter that separated us and gripping him by the neck, making a scene. I didn’t of course. I was in his territory. I would do nothing that might leave my unconscious kid alone. I controlled my fury and sat by my son until he was hydrated once again and conscious. My justice came in the billing office when I refused to pay the physician’s portion of the bill. It was reinforced a month later when the hospital tried to collect on behalf of the doctor and I informed them that I would never pay it: the doctor had never seen him. My letter described exactly what had happened and why I would never pay that bill and why I was prepared to go to court and to share the story with local newspapers.
I received an apology and the bill was withdrawn.
I felt the same fierce protective instinct when my son was hospitalized at six with a troubling auto-immune syndrome but, then, I also felt impotent. I had no health insurance and had just started a freelance assignment after months of no work. Those who loved me helped me get through this period. It took years and humiliating negotiations with that hospital’s billing department to finally settle the bill.
I am thinking of what it means to get sick in our country right now and the 12 million people have who have lost their health insurance from work because they have lost their jobs. I am thinking of those who have no safety net except what we, all of us, are willing to fight to provide. They are not my children or relatives but, collectively, they make up a huge part of this country I call home. I’m even thinking of those who disagree with me about what is threatening our home and how we are all going to have to find a way to exist together no matter what happens.
I’m thinking of the last paragraph in Weinstock’s Op-Ed:
“Now I treasure my dog walks in a new way: with a wary knowledge of danger, a tinge of darkness in the sunshine. That, I think, is how we all walk through life now. The world, for better and worse, is full of surprises. And as we rise to meet them, there is more fight in us than we know.”
May it be so.
Please, share what you are thinking about these days or share something you’ve heard, read, experienced. Was there anything that moved you or surprised you or just helped you get through the wee? No matter what, please just check in and let me know you are doing and what made you laugh this week. If you want to comment below, it’s easy. For first-timers, just hit the “Subscribe” button below and register. You don’t have to log in each time after this. The folks who run the platform just want to avoid comments from random spammers.
Voting Update
Speaking of saving our democracy, are you ready to vote? Here’s a cool tool from Ballotpedia that builds your sample ballot in seconds using your location. The site also provides nonpartisan information on the presidential candidates as well as ballot measures and candidates up and down the ballot. If you are looking for more helpful links and info about casting your vote and making it count, you can also check out our handy-dandy and very easy-to-share guide in this post Our Votes, Our Voices.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Short Read, Two Long Reads and That Documentary
Even after her death, Ruth Bader Ginsburg remains one of the most impactful, inspiring, and heroic women this country has produced. She was tireless, brilliant, strategic, and knew how to work with people who disagreed with her without losing herself. She was also someone who could imagine a future that did not yet exist as Linda Greenhouse explains in this short piece. Imagination was critical to her impact on women, on all of us.
Her authorized biography has not yet been written but there are 46 books about Ruth Bader Ginsburg right now on bookshop.org. Although most are geared towards adults, a number are geared towards children and young adults. Here are two that I am most interested in reading:“My Own Words” by Ruth Bader Ginsburg herself, and“Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg” by Shana Knizhnick and Irin Carmon.
If you haven’t watched RBG, the inspiring and often funny, documentary covering Ruth Bader Ginsburg at age 84, take some time to stream it on either Hulu or Amazon. It is based on the book by Knizhnick and Carmon.
Kristina Wong: Writer, Performance Artist, Comedian and… Elected Official?
And then, for something completely different, watch the latest show by Kristina Wong, performance artist, comedian and…elected official? Yes. And she is touring with “Kristina Wong Public Office,” online of course. You can catch it October 3 at 4 PM Pacific time in conjunction with Boston Court Pasadena. This show is free but donations are gratefully accepted.
I was lucky enough to meet Kristina four years back when she attended a conference for other women writers and have followed her since. She’s been all over the world and on national television and stages all over the U.S. She is a writer and an artist who uses her talent to stir thought, to make laughs, to arouse empathy -- she’s funny, eye-opening, and a lot of other things we need right now.
Here’s a brief pitch for “Kristina Wong Public Office” from the venue’s website:
“An actual elected representative of Koreatown in Los Angeles, she was once a scrappy performance artist with a bright future in reality television. Now, the political system she used to ridicule is the one she’s become!!! Is she more effective as a performance artist or a politician? Is there actually a difference between performance art and politics?”
Wong is also the founder of the Auntie Sewing Squad a charity organization that began with a “casual effort to connect with other friends” to sew masks for essential workers after the government failed to provide adequate personal protective equipment (PPE). Just reading the About page left me excited and eager to help (not by sewing, by donating — if I fight for democracy it will be with pen, voice, and maybe my body but not needle and thread which, in my hands, become weapons only to myself). The effort exploded into a full-blown network of “aunties” who sew masks for those who need them and can’t afford them. Naturally she is creating a new theatrical project based on her experience with the Aunties.
Calling For Contributions - Your Moment of Zen
Last week, we put out a call for contributions to “the moment of Zen” that ends every issue of Spark. It’s going down as one of the most fun things ever. Within minutes I received the first few contributions and I’m excited for more. This week’s comes all the way from Scotland.
What is YOUR moment of Zen? Let’s open this thing up. Send me your photos, a video, a drawing, a song, a poem, or anything with a visual that moved you, thrilled you, calmed you. Or just cracked you up. This feature is wide open for your own personal interpretation.
Come on, go through your photos, your memories or just keep your eyes and ears to the ground and then share. Send your photos/links, etc. to me by replying to this email or simply by sending to: elizabethmarro@substack.com. The main guidelines are probably already obvious: don’t hurt anyone -- don’t send anything that violates the privacy of someone you love or even someone you hate, don’t send anything divisive, or aimed at disparaging others. Our Zen moments are to help us connect, to bond, to learn, to wonder, to share -- to escape the world for a little bit and return refreshed.
I can’t wait to see what you send!
An Apology
And, finally, an apology for all those on the East Coast who sat down with their coffee last Saturday morning, went to open up the September 19 issue of Spark and found nada. Niente. Nothing. That’s because when I set the time for publication I do this in advance as I always do because it goes out 4:30 AM Pacific time in order to be there in time for East Coast early risers, I neglected to change the PM to AM. My bad. I’m sorry and am grateful to all who noticed and alerted me. On the plus side, it was great to know that it mattered!
That’s it for this week. Both books mentioned in this issue are available from the Spark Community Recommendations page on Bookshop.org where every sale helps local bookstores and will, eventually, help us to raise money for literacy programs. In fact, if you have friends who have not heard of or are thinking about buying a book, send them over to our page to browse. And let me know what you are reading so we can expand our list!
Gratefully yours,
Betsy
P.S. And now, your moment of Zen…two, actually, from Caroline Cumming from her garden in Scotland after summer ended but, for a golden day, seemed to return
