LUCY BURDETTE: : it seems like there are a lot of ways we need to have courage these days. But maybe it’s always been so? When it comes to physical bravery, I’m not so great. I suppose I would try to rescue someone if I saw they were drowning in a rough sea, though I think they could do better than me. As far as running into a burning house? It’s not going to happen.
But there are other kinds of bravery, including standing up to bullies. Earlier this winter, I went to an event featuring Amanda Jones in conversation with Judy Blume. Amanda is a librarian in Louisiana who decided it was not OK to ban books in her library. She has become an outspoken critic of book banning, as has Judy. And both of them have suffered from death threats for speaking up about their opinions. In politics, we are watching many people who are afraid to speak up about what’s going on in our country, and I can understand the fear of retaliation. I would like to think I would not fold in these conditions.
So that is the question of the day, Reds. Are you brave? Physically? Mentally?
HALLIE EPHRON: It’s a great question… but I don’t think any of us know what we’re capable of until we’re *in* the situation. I remember when my daughter Molly was maybe two years old and we were at an outdoor party and I wasn’t paying attention and she fell into a hot tub. Believe you me, I raced over there, jumped in, pulled her right out. Scraped my legs in the process and my clothes were soaked, but she was fine. For the rest of the party she kept insisting that she wanted to “Jump in Cuzzi.”
As far as standing up to bullies, that’s a truly scary prospect, and scarier still the more powerful the bully.
JENN McKINLAY: I think I am. I have an intolerance of injustice and a big mouth so I’ve gotten myself into a pickle a time or two. I’m also six feet tall and very active so not much scares me on a physical level. Thankfully, my older brother taught me how to fight. I have no problem facing down a person behaving badly because I dealt with all sorts of folks at the central library in Phoenix for twenty years. Hub has told me repeatedly that he fell in love with me when we were working together at the library and a male patron was having a mantrum, so I marched right over to the guy, got in his face, and said, “Get your sh*t together. Right now.” Honestly, I don’t remember it, but yeah, it tracks.
DEBORAH CROMBIE: I am a physically small person, and I’m a pleaser. (Isn’t it interesting how children of the same family can be so different? I can’t imagine that my super type A brother ever worried about people being unhappy with him!) I hate arguing, and will avoid confrontation whenever possible. So no, not brave in that respect. I have, however, done things that completely surprised me. Twice I’ve jumped, fully clothed, into swimming pools after toddlers who’d fallen in, while even the kids' parents stood frozen. I’ve dealt with emergencies on the street when other bystanders wouldn’t. I’ve driven my husband to the hospital when he cut off the end of his finger (including putting the severed finger joint on ice in a plastic bag.) And, after twenty-five years of having German shepherds, I have a surprisingly impressive command voice. So I guess you never know how you’ll react until you do. But I wish I was better at standing up to bullies.
RHYS BOWEN: This is something I have often debated with myself. In high school my daughter was Anne in the Diary of Anne Frank and I used to wonder would I have to courage to hide my Jewish friends in my attic? I certainly would have the courage to speak out, to challenge ICE if I saw them dragging someone off the street. I’ve always had a strong sense of justice (hence Molly Murphy) But if it got to a stage, like Nazi Germany, when normal citizens could disappear for speaking out, would I still be brave? I really don’t know. I’d hope so. I have done a few brave things in my life: when I was up at drama school in London there was a horrible train crash in an awful smog. No buses, no transport, nothing. Of course now I’d check into a hotel for the night but I walked home, 14 miles in dense fog. Got home at 3 am. My parents must have been frantic. (no cellphones in those days)
I definitely avoid confrontation, but I'd like to think I would find the courage to speak up in situations or stand up to a bully. Like most moms, I've done the "grab the child out of danger" things, but I'm not certain that's "brave" . . . I think it might be more of a "mom reflex" . . . .
ReplyDeleteWhat a timely topic. I'm not surprised about you pool/hot tub rescuers - I did the same, once - and I love Jenn's fearlessness. Bravo for that librarian, for Judy Blume, and for all others resisting book banning.
ReplyDeleteI've been standing out weekly at pro-democracy rallies, face unmasked, with my sign, but that doesn't seem like a risky act for an older white lady. So far the only belligerent opponents we've encountered stay in their cars and deliver rude gestures. I just smile and wave. I do put out yard signs for candidates who share my values, signs that I know don't sit well with the Red neighbors who are mostly all around us.
I've been so pleased by the number of judges acting with integrity in recent weeks. They are the only institution holding the line against the many illegal acts our so-called government is committing. That's bravery, because you know they and probably their families are being threatened.
Oh, and Hank - it was a delight to see your face on screen introducing the Newburyport Literary Festival last night!
DeleteOh, thank you! I cannot wait to hear all about it… That festival is so amazing!
DeleteI have asked myself that question my whole life. I know that I am physically brave sometimes, but that can happen before you think it through. Consequences?
ReplyDeleteRhys, I have often asked the Anne Frank question. It's one thing to stand up to a bully on a playground, in a restaurant or a library or on the steps of your university where the Jewish students are being prevented from going to classes. It is quite another to risk your life and those of your whole family by hiding Jews in your attic from the Nazis.
I think bravery comes in many different forms. One year ago today, I held my mother's hand as she died. She wanted to die but didn't want to be alone. I didn't want her to die, but knew she would, and definitely didn't want her to be alone. So I held her hand. A final act of love. Fiercely loving in the face of fear and grief is a kind of courage...
ReplyDeleteVery brave Amanda. I’m very sorry for your loss
DeleteOh, Amanda, this really moved me. Steve's cousin's only son, age 31, died last February from complications of testicular cancer that had come roaring back after five years of remission. He and his wife had been about the celebrate the first birthday of their miracle twin girls (his wife had had ovarian cancer as a teenager!), so the tragedy was intense. I watched his mother at his deathbed talking to him calmly, holding up the phone so his only first cousin could chokingly tell him goodbye, and also to calmly order one the many medical professionals distracted by her son's father's collapse to please attend her dying son in his final moments. I could never have been as controlled as she was. I was a blubbering mess.
DeleteHit reply too soon. There is massive courage in holding your own composure to ease a loved one to that transition.
DeleteThank you, Lucy and Karen.
DeleteWhen my sisters and I accompanied my mom as she died, singing and reminiscing, I didn't feel it was brave - but maybe it was. She'd had a long good life, she'd been ill, and we didn't know if she could hear us. But it was a moment of blessing and grace, and for that I am grateful
DeleteI just received a note this morning that my cousin's wife who has cancer is opting for MAID on Monday (medical assisted dying). Just to confirm, if I was in the same situation, it would be my choice. However, it is still brave of her to stand up to get it (it is legal in Canada), but more so, brave of the family to be there with her. It is also extremely brave to publicly admit to it.
DeleteI've had many individuals in the medical field as well as friends and family describe both myself and my husband as courageous. Whether that is the correct description of that word I'm not sure although we consider ourselves a member of the Warriors and Champions club. Bravery is facing complex and frightening circumstances head on but does it still hold the same meaning when there is no other choice but to move forward? We've had doctors tell us that we deserve a break and "enough already" but I know there are so many others out there who face the same fears... or even worse...and don their armor and go to battle just the same. Courage has so many meanings and levels and I would never compare myself to those who, for example, ran towards danger during 9/11 without a moment's hesitation. Our First Responders, police and fire who face the possibility of never returning home to their own families and yet still continue to do their jobs bravely on a daily basis. Individuals who live in countries who do not have rights, liberties and the freedom to speak or worship or live their lives as they wish without being punished...that's courage, too. So many other examples of being in unfair circumstances but who manage to carry on despite having to consistently face prejudice and injustice in their lives. I consider myself a lucky person who may not be wealthy in dollars but rich in many blessings that others are not fortunate to have. I generally keep my political feelings to myself on social sites but have no problem discussing them in person . However, when someone is acting rude or disrespectful to myself or others in the public arena I somehow manage to find my voice and charge forward without hesitation. Individuals who tell others who may have a different opinion that they should "move on" or "keep going" and who are only "brave" behind their computer's keyboard are the most cowardly ones of all. It takes courage now to move in the direction of bipartisan opinion and welcome all voices to the table without being thrown under the bus by either side.
ReplyDeleteA Quaker friend in his mid-seventies puts on a (weathered) linen suit and attends big democracy rallies in Boston. He makes a point of engaging the "other side," gently trying to reason with them, asking them questions about where they get their information. I'm someone who doesn't like confrontation, and I admire David so much for his peaceful courage.
DeleteExactly, Edith. Contrary to what people may choose to believe when it comes to their own beliefs I feel there are plenty of educated beings on both sides of the aisle who are unwilling to fall off the side of a cliff when it comes to extreme thinking. And welcome the opportunity to share their thoughts with each other. But it feels as if that opportunity to do so is slim to none because heads are exploding everywhere; the mental exhaustion from everything that has rolled out has taken a front seat. Either that or our bipartisan friends and family are in hiding and only sharing conversations in private. It makes me both sad and angry that folks will so easily give up friendships and relationships based on an unwillingness to compromise in their feelings. Sometimes our household is like Carville and Matalin :-) but it doesn't mean we love each other any less. When neither side has fallen off the cliff it is surprising how much one can learn through an exchange of bipartisan views. Nothing is ever black and wide; there are always shades of gray. Cheers to your gentle friend David who is willing to come to the table.
DeleteI did something as a young child which may have looked brave, but it was actually quite stupid. We were in Maine, at a dump if I remember correctly. There were a couple of bears there and my father was always taking pictures. Then he noticed his cigarettes were missing. I spied them, right up by the bears and said "I'll get them" as he yelled "no don't!" But I just zipped in there and got them. Problem solved. What an incredibly ignorant thing to do. I was young and didn't know enough to be afraid of bears.
ReplyDeleteThe scary things now are not animals, but people.
The day our daughter drowned and the other two kids went through the ice as well – was I brave trying to find her or desperate? There was no thought given to anything that happened or decisions made at all – I just did it. I remember visualizing myself overseeing myself racing about – really weird.
ReplyDeleteBullies – no, wimp here. Obvious is how I react as my sister always bullies me. Got used to it.
Stand up and protest something – like to think in my head I would, but I know I won’t. Too chicken. Would think a lot of thoughts about it, or maybe could vocalize on paper, but maybe not…
Margo, I am so very, very sad and sorry to read about the tragic loss of your daughter. (Selden)
DeleteMargo, no one should ever have to face such a test. I'm so sorry.
DeleteAnd today is your day to be brave, isn't it? Bon courage, for your presentation!
Margo, I had no idea about your daughter. Sending my deep sympathies, no matter how long ago it was.
DeleteMargo, my heartfelt condolences on your daughter's tragic death. What bravery to act in the moment, what courage to keep living thereafter...
DeleteMargo— we are so honored that you shared this with us. We love you so much.
DeleteThanks for your sympathy. It was in 1985, but it never goes away and she will always be a yellow-haired 2 year old. Cannot even image her as an adult! As for today - yes, another 2 hrs and it will be over. Apparently lunch will be lobster sandwiches. I told my brother and my daughter about it on Wednesday, and last night at 9:30, who appeared at our dark door - Laura and George! Now that was a surprise! Since they drove for 5 hrs, I will have to stand up straight and not faint.
DeleteMargo, you will not faint! You will get up there and say your piece and boom! it will be over before you know it! It's the waiting that's the hardest part (this from a total introvert who has had to stand before audiences and deliver presentations and papers and not faint while doing so).
DeleteAnd my heart goes out to you for the loss of your daughter. May her memory always be a flame that warms your heart. (Flora)
Margo, I’m so sorry to hear about your terrible loss.
DeleteDebRo
Margo, like others I had no idea you had lived through every parent's worst nightmare. I am so very sorry for your loss, and so in awe of what a resilient, thoughtful, sharing person you are with us. It's very easy to close in after a tragedy, and very difficult to keep growing and changing and becoming.
DeleteThis is a great question and one I brought up every year while teaching my 8th grade history class, in the spring term at the end of the Holocaust unit, after we watched the BBC's excellent production of THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK. Would I have been as brave as Miep Geis and her coworkers, who hid their boss and his family from the Nazis? I have zero doubt that I would have that courage for my own children. But to risk my life for the family of my boss? I always told my students that I hoped so, but did not know. I also told them that courage is not the absence of fear. It's doing what's right despite being afraid.
ReplyDeleteLike Jen, I also am tall (5'10") and have an athletic build. As a child I occasionally fought boys on the playground. I also have a loud voice and a commanding "teacher's tone." (Recently at a march in support of Ukraine, the leaders, without a bullhorn, asked me to roar their directives to the crowd.) Early in our relationship I told my husband that because of my size and strength, I was not afraid of men. He smiled patiently, tipped me to the floor, and pinned me. He was a wrestler in high school. "Throw me off," he said. I could not move. I stopped saying I was not afraid of men. Now, of course, I am 65 with health issues so it's moot.
Much like Edith, I have felt that as an old white lady, in my case with centuries of privilege, I am safe. I taught four sections of U.S. history a day for many years, so I know it cold. My current state of grief and horror makes me feel I should be doing much more than I am. I am haunted by one of the many quotations I had made into posters for my classroom wall. "The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people," said Martin Luther King, "but the silence over that by the good people." (Selden)
Some of us have SO much unearned privilege it's embarrassing, and that makes me want to be public in my demonstrations, weak though they might be.
DeleteI'm also an old white lady, Selden, and I've decided I need to use my privilege to join public protests, in lieu of my young trans friend who doesn't feel safe doing so. I've also had the privilege of good insurance, which gave me a new knee, so now I have the physical ability to do so as well! Another OWL friend, with mobility issues, is writing postcards and making calls to politicians. She's also inspired me to get off my keister.
DeleteIt seems as if courage is a choice, and sometimes we don't know we have it in us to be brave until we are called to be, and then choose to be.
ReplyDeleteIn the last couple years friends have called me brave for posting what I do on social media. I'd never looked at it that way and then a few months ago I went to a high school reunion. Because my hometown is in a part of Ohio that is generally considered deeply conservative, and it was a month before the election, I'd been reluctant to go. Then a friend was coming in who I'd not seen in a long time, so we went. It turned out that a lot of us, a surprising number, felt the same way, and we had a nice conversation about how to know what the truth was, with so much utter nonsense going around. It dawned on me that I am privileged to be able to have access to many different sources of real reporting, and not just opinion, and that even though it sometimes feels as though I'm shouting into the abyss, others are actually listening and observing.
It does mean that my relationships with some people have changed--although I do try to be as respectful as I can (even though others don't always return the favor), and not for the better, in some cases. But like Edith, I don't think we can afford the luxury of being silent. We have too much at stake, and no matter what "side" we are on, we are all in the same boat for climate change, and world peace, and the stability of our currency and economy, as well our liberty and ability to exercise free speech. The freedoms and rights we are ALL guaranteed under the US Constitution are being tested, and not paying attention is not the right way to go here, despite how uncomfortable it may make us to watch and understand.
Is that courageous? Or is it self-preservation?
Karen - it is both. Inter-connected and related; the feeling of one begets the other.
DeleteKaren, I salute you for speaking up on social media. I have refrained in most instances from posting on my own page. I think sadly that this may be cowardice. I live in a rural, conservative area. I have spoken up many times on other people's pages, and sometimes on the page of the local paper, always in a firm, but very polite way. I remember meeting a former student, who is black, who told me how much it meant to him to see me fight back against degrading stereotypes. But I also remember in 2017 when a local conservative called me a "liberal POS" and kept attacking me. I looked him up; he worked in a local garage and on his own page he was exulting that he had trashed me. I thought to myself, "Maybe I should go in to the garage and introduce myself so he can understand I am a person, in fact a rather nice one, and not an enemy." Then I thought, "Maybe not. He might come and burn down my barn." So I deleted the whole exchange. I am not very brave. (Selden)
DeleteSelden, I don't think that's cowardice, I think it's self-preservation. Our first responsibility is to our own selves and our families, after all. I kept quiet for many years, because of my husband and his family's public face and standing. Now I feel more in my own agency, and since many in my family are outright rude and dismissive of my views, am compelled to show proof of why I hold them. But it took me a long time to get to this point.
DeleteWhat a fascinating discussion. I tend to be very NOT brave physically, as a small person, trained to please people. I too wonder what I would do in a given situation, but I also realize that one can develop those resistance muscles. We've done some role playing with our rapid response group at church and have some ideas on what we are going to do in a given situation. The civil rights marchers in the '60s were organized. Rosa Parks, while she acted alone, had trained and participated in a civil rights groups. There's strength in numbers and solidarity.
ReplyDeleteI would love to have seen you ordering that patron to leave the library, Jenn!
Such a timely post, Lucy! I've been asking myself what more can I do under these frightening circumstances. The door to my garage is on the side of the building, not visible from the street if the lights are off. The interior door to the house opens on a small landing with the basement door right there. Someone could come into the house, slip into the basement, and hide in the interior room down there. I've thought it through, I would be willing to hide someone--a family--but then I think--what about my nephew? He's young, would I want to put him in danger of arrest, being shipped off to CECOT because of my choices? Most of all, I think of my dad. He went to war on the other side of the world as a young man, fought to preserve those freedoms we hold dear in this country. I have a loud mouth, I can use that. I can show up to gatherings, write letters, make calls. Give what money I can to groups that are better prepared to fight in the courts, for example. Somehow, it doesn't seem enough. And nothing I do smacks of bravery or courage, just what needs doing as best I can. (Flora)
ReplyDeleteFlora, I disagree about your self-perception. Raising your nephews is courageous, indeed, and an awful lot of people would never do that.
DeleteThank you, Karen. They didn't leave me much choice, with two little hands wrapped around my heart. :-) (Flora)
DeleteI am not usually brave, but I had a very strangest encounter where I stepped up. I was a runner in those days, and when I neared the end of the run, a parking area with probably 30 people standing around in various stages of getting reading to go for a run or a walk, or winding down, I noticed that it was unusually quiet, except for two teenaged boys sitting on a car yelling curses. They were terrorizing all those people, who looked embarrassed and upset! I couldn't believe that no one had spoken up. I was not about to keep quiet, but wondered what I could say to stop them. So I walked up, grinned and said, "You boys just learning how to curse?" They looked stunned. One of them muttered, "No we already knew how." And then, I guess realizing they had been called out and looked stupid, they jumped in their car and left. Brave? Maybe. These days I might worry that they had a gun, but those were different times.
ReplyDeleteTerry, that's amazing, and so typical of bullies as well. They can stand up to anything except laughing at them.
DeleteWhat a thought-provoking topic, Lucy! You never know if you would be brave until you are "in" the situation. Would I have been brave? Who knows. There is a difference between "seeking out" confrontation and confrontation. There are people who look for a fight. I had to deal with someone who tried to start a fight. I let them know very clearly that it was not OK by walking away and ignoring them. If they tried to start a fight to get my attention, then the plan backfired. If they wanted my attention, they could have behaved like a civilized person.
ReplyDeleteWhen I studied abroad across the Pond, I was told that I was very brave to travel abroad on my own. They said that because I am Deaf and it never occurred to me to Not do things that I wanted to do because of a missing sense.
When you want to keep the peace, it is a judgment call to decide when to speak up. Sometimes you have to speak up. When I was in the 6th grade, there was a bully who would get in line behind me after lunch and hit or push me. One day the bully managed to step on the heel of my shoe and my shoe came off. I was fed up and it was the last straw. I turned around and beat up the bully. I ran into my classroom and told my classmates what I did. The bully and the adult, who was responsible for supervising us children, came to the classroom and asked me to apologize to the bully. I said No because the bully tormented me daily and I had enough. The bully played the victim and cried. The adult said "I will call your Mom". I called her bluff. I went home and asked my Mom if the school called her. The school never called my Mom. The bully never bothered me again because I finally stood up to the bully.
When people stand up to bullies, then they stop. There are different ways of standing up to bullies. Even though I am not six foot tall, I still see myself as six foot tall because I was always the tallest person in my class.
Like some of you, my mental challenge to myself for many decades was what I would do if a Jewish person - friend of stranger - was trying to escape the evil of Nazis. Where does that courage come from and what does it take to act in dangerous times? Today, it's real again. If ICE grabs someone on the street and I'm walking past, what will I do? I do know I'll whip out my phone, nor run away or ignore the situation. But if a masked ICE henchman turns on me to grab my phone or worse, how will I respond? During the Vietnam War protests, I stood outside a subway entrance in Queens with a petition for people to sign. My 4-year old was with me because I couldn't afford a babysitter. You would not believe the vehement shouted insults I got (this was the neighborhood where cops and firemen lived), the worst foul language...I didn't blink, so there was that, I guess!
ReplyDeleteI grew up in a violent home, and my sisters and I still have the scars. Some years ago, I saw a woman hitting her (9-year old?) son in a doorway in Tribeca. Her husband just stood by and did nothing. I froze. My amygdala was screaming “RUN!" I opened my mouth to say something to her, but I was so terrified, nothing came out. All I could do was stand where she would see me watching her. When I caught her eye, she yelled, "What are YOU looking at?” I was still unable to talk, but I kept staring at her. She stopped beating her son, and they left.
ReplyDeleteIt’s likely I didn’t do any lasting good. All I knew was that no one had ever called my parents out on what they did, so they kept getting away with it. Someday, I will stand up for myself the way I can for my family and others. THAT will be really brave!