Mary, Queen of Peace, Where Are You??

Do you ever wonder why

social change takes so long?

PEOPLE AWARE OF AN INJUSTICE

THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT IT

THOSE WHO SPEAK UP ABOUT IT

THOSE WHO GIVE MONEY

THOSE WHO GIVE TIME

THOSE WHO TAKE INITIATIVE

Be an ally.

*****

Mary, Queen of Peace, where are you??

Today is the first day of school and Chris doesn't get to start Kindergarten.

Why??

At your school, with your name, with your strength and wisdom and history of miracles,

they said no.

Even though he was there in the prekindergarten last year.

Chris, it turns out, has a little too much Down Syndrome.

"He's severely effected."

Which, by the way, isn't even a thing.

People with Down Syndrome either have it or they don't.

They are all learners.

They all have hopes and dreams.

Some might be more delayed but that doesn't mean they aren't learning.

What's going on in kindergarten that a child with Down Syndrome can't participate in?

Is it the social skills?

Well, let's be honest, Chris won't be the only one who needs to work on that.

Is it the academics?

Pretty sure that Chris ins't the only one who could use some extra help there.

Is it the idea that every single one of us is holy and sacred and made in God's image?

**That's a core belief of Catholicism and one of Mary's shining lights.**

Is Chris not holy enough? 

Sacred enough?

Is he broken??

No.

Hell no.

He is made in God's image, exactly as God intended.

He is beautiful.

He is irreplaceable.

He is miraculous.

Mary, Queen of Peace, yes, she knows this.

Mary, Queen of Peace, the school, near St. Louis, Missouri, 

is apparently still trying to figure it out.

We need bravery.

We need courage.

We need a whole crew of people to step up and shout that Chris deserves to be there.

Right alongside their own kid.

Learning and growing.

We need voices.

We need action.

We need to live social justice and not just talk about it.

Come on.

Mary, Queen of Peace, the school, the faculty, the parents, the students, the priests, the parish...where are you??

Do you even know this is happening?

How much do you believe in Mary, Queen of Peace?

She makes miracles happen.

She comforts.

She leads.

She defends and protects.

Let her show you the way.

Trust her.

Watch what happens with a little faith and effort.

I know because I've lived it.

My own son, Patrick, who also has Down Syndrome, went to kindergarten at St. James Catholic School in Davis, California.

He actually went to first and second and third and fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh and yes, even eighth grade there.

He just graduated this year.

Was it perfect?

Nope.

Did we learn a lot?

Yep.

Was it worth it?

Most definitely.

Could we help you??

Of course!!

I've got not just one kindergarten teacher but two that would be willing to help.

(Heck, I've even got a couple of principals who would talk to you!)

They are amazing teachers and yes, they believe that Chris can learn 

alongside of his classmates.

In fact, they know he will read and write and learn his math facts just like the rest.

It might take some more repetition.  It might take several different ways.

But it will happen.

In Chris's way. In his timing.

And it will be exactly right.

And, I'd love to have an excuse to visit you near St Louis and introduce you to Patrick...

I'd love to do an inservice for your teachers and share what we've learned.

I work with beginning teachers as my job with our local university, UC Davis.

I can send you a resume.

And guess what?

We have the educational research to help you.

We know what to do.

We know the teaching techniques that work.

We know what apps work.

We know how to use technology to help learners like Chris

...and here's the good part...

that research, that technology, those teaching techniques won't just help Chris, 

they will help all of your struggling learners...

and let's not pretend that Chris is the only student who struggles.

There's a guaranteed  10% that struggle.

In every classroom.

Your entire school will benefit with Chris's inclusion, both academically and socially.

This has been documented time and again with research and 

this is what we've seen at St. James.

Here's another mind-blower:

In the entire United Kingdom, it is standard practice to place every child with 

Down Syndrome into their neighborhood school fully included with support in kindergarten.  

If it's good enough for the UK, don't you think Mary, Queen of Peace could try?

I know you want to do what's best for Chris 

and the rest of the students who attend your school.

I know you care.

What's best for Chris (and the entire student body) is creating an environment that allows Chris to learn at the same school as his sister.

What's best for Chris (and the entire student body) is the message that he is valuable.

And worthy.

And good enough.

That's the message you want to send.

Stop being afraid.

Stop thinking you can't do this.

Open your heart to Mary, Queen of Peace, to the Holy Spirit, and to Jesus Christ and 

let it all unfold.

Do you think it's an accident that Chris's mom and I crossed paths?

I don't.

I know it's what God intended.

I can see God's hand in all of this.

Your school's name is no accident.

Patrick's kindergarten teacher 

(who wasn't too sure about Patrick going to kindergarten there)

signed every letter she wrote home to the parents with this phrase:

"With God, all things are possible."

Once I saw that, I knew we had a chance.

And we did.

Here is Patrick on his graduation day, May 30th, 2014.

Yep, miracles do come true.

Believe it.

Dear Benjamin Netanyahu

Dear Mr. Netanyahu,

I know it's crazy...this idea of a mom from California...just a teacher and mom presuming to talk to you...but somebody's got to.

Have you noticed what's happening?

Is it working out well?

You getting attacked...and you attacking back.

It's timeless.

It's pointless.

It's clearly not working.

You know the definition of insanity, right?  Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Let's back track:  your strategy isn't working.

Hamas continues to bomb and Israeli soldiers continue to die -- not to mention a whole bunch of children and mothers and fathers and people who have the sheer bad luck of being stuck right there at ground zero.

So...what can be done?

Well, you can continue doing what you're doing and it can continue not to work...or you can think outside the box.

You can be radical.

Radical for peace.

Imagine how powerful it would be to have Hamas launch rockets at Israel and to have Israel respond with silence...
how about with prayer?

How about if the entire state of Israel spent a day in prayer...deep in prayer all day long?

All of the businesses shut down...all of the schools closed...all of the vacationers paused...
paused in prayerful peace.

Would the world take note?

Would your enemies?

Last week, we had a horrific crime happen in a neighboring city.  Three guys robbed a bank and took three hostages and then proceeded to drive all over the city shooting to kill.  The mother of a 12 year old who was taken hostage was killed...while her 12 year old waited in their car at the bank...killed for no reason.

Guess what her sister chose to do?

In a terrible moment of grief, with a bald head from cancer treatment, the sister of the woman killed ask for people to pray for her and for her family...and then she asked that the crowd pray for the robbers and for their families too.

Incredible.

It takes two to fight -- that's what I tell my kids all day long -- two.

What if Israel just chose not to fight and instead chose peace.

Over and over again.

It might feel like the weakest thing you've ever done as a leader but in fact it would be the most powerful act you have ever done.

(I call this the Yoga Yield -- it's counter-intuitive -- but the moment when you yield when you really really want to push and force it, is the moment it yields and becomes right.)

We've seen what peace can do --

and it's a whole lot more powerful than weapons.

We know this.

You know this.

Be radical.

Think outside the box.

Stay silent in prayer.

Use your Iron Dome...you're protected.

But change it up...let your enemies be shocked.

And let the world see your goodness.

Let the world see you working for peace.

Make peace your goal.

Make peace your prayer.

Never stop believing in its possibility.

And watch what happens.

Give peace a chance.

You can be a hero for the ages -- like Nelson Mandela -- or you can be just another world leader who has missed his chance....and played an old game.

You choose.

Hint:  Choose peace.

Sincerely, Beth Foraker -- mom, wife, sister, daughter, Catholic, ignorant of so much  -- but a citizen of the world praying for peace.

Anything Can Be

Anything can be.

Anything.

Tonight is proof.

5,445 days ago a little baby was born.

He had Down Syndrome...a heart defect and later leukemia.

5,445 days ago I didn't know a thing.

I was biased and prejudiced.

Flattened and broken.

I believed the mustn'ts and the don'ts.

And the universe handed me a child...and his soul whispered to me,

"Anything can be."

I didn't know what to do or how to be.

But my older two kids did.

They knew how to love and they poured it on thick.

They were delighted with this baby filled with shouldn'ts and won'ts.

They knew the secret:

Anything Can Be.

Slowly.

Following the path of love and the glittered steps of preschoolers who knew best, I learned.

I learned that mothering this new baby was the same as mothering those other two...

love, belief, faith, being there....day in and day out.

*****

Recently I read this essay about wishing out loud.

I loved it.

In it, Mitchel encourages you and me to: "Share your wishes freely to anyone who will listen."

I've been doing that for awhile.

Wishing out loud.

LOUD.

Please, please, please let all children learn alongside each other.

LOUD.

Back in 1999, when Patrick was born, honestly, it felt like my wishing flame pilot light had gone out.

I didn't know what to wish for.

I felt alone.

Isolated.

I had no road map...and for someone who used to pour over the giant world atlas, that felt weird.

What does this new world of mine look like?

Who is with me?

Am I as alone as I feel?

*****

5,445 days have gone by.

The baby has gotten bigger, grown stronger, and is sitting on the edge of manhood.

He's reading, writing, passionate, funny, exuberant and his very own self.

Incomparable.

Inexplicable.

Indefinable.

Miraculously irreplaceable.

I could never have known his place that he alone would carve out for himself in this world of ours.

I could never picture his truth.

All I could do was live alongside him and show up each day...learning the lessons meant for me alone.

5,445 lessons...perfectly circular...perfectly balanced.

Tonight it all came together.

Tonight Patrick graduated from 8th grade...from a Catholic school.

He's the first in the diocese to be fully included in the regular classroom,
learning alongside his typical peers,
attending the same school as his big brother and sister.

The first.

In blue cap and gown he walked in holding a lit candle.

Light in the darkness.

Another reminder.

Anything can be.

He strode up to receive his diploma.

He sat back down and listened to the award winners.

Award winners for art, math, science, social studies, PE, literature.
His name wasn't called.
It didn't matter.
The award for most improved in Computer Class came and his name was announced.
He popped up -- eager to be singled out and awarded.
It felt good.
We moved on.

Suddenly, the teacher mentioned a special award.
She spent time explaining the award.
She detailed the recipient.
Describing attitude, effort and perseverance...lessons taught, day in, day out.
Patrick's name was the one on the award.

And like a crazy dream, he leaped up to receive the award
as his classmates cheered.
His classmates stood up.
The audience stood up...
the room transformed into a full standing ovation
I just sat there...
until the energy of the room pulled me up and I turned to my mom and asked,
"Is this real?"

I couldn't take it in.
Couldn't really make sense of it.

Anything can be.

This child of mine -- so broken to the outside world -- was fully seen, fully recognized,
fully accepted on this day, in this moment, at his school.
He was worthy.
He was good enough.
In fact, he was admired and awarded.

And in this moment, in this dream-like world, we were one.
Every single one of us in that big church belonged.
We were valued.
We were loved.

The message was loud and clear.
You, Patrick Foraker, have taught us something.
Something we didn't know until you showed us.

There will always be mustn'ts and can'ts.
Don'ts and wont's.
None of it matters, friend.
Anything can be.

So today I am grateful for this moment of hope and encouragement.
Profoundly grateful to the many, many encouragers who met us on this path.
Grateful to Sarah and Steve and Ashley and the many priests, principals, teachers, aides and staff who found a way to make anything be real.
Grateful for ordinary holiness, sacred acceptance, and this moment right now.

Anything can be.

Dreams come true.
Share your wishes out loud.
Wait.

Watch what happens in a few thousand days.

Happy Graduation, Patrick!

Being Catholic

I'm Catholic.

Yesterday, I had a chance to practice my faith and deepen my faith and share in it with Caroline as she prepares to make her 

Holy Communion next week-end.

We had a Bread Retreat for the entire second grade.

We made bread.

Simple. Humble. Delicious.

We said a blessing over every single ingredient:

"Bless this flour.  May it remind us of all who have helped us come so far.  

We pray for all people who work to make the world a better place."

"Bless this sugar.  May it help us to be sweet in our words and actions toward others."

"Bless this water -- a sign of our baptism.  May we always remember that we are God's children."

"Bless this milk.  It reminds us of our first food -- mother's milk.  Bless our mothers who love us and care for us each day."

"Bless this salt.  Life first began in the sea.  May we show respect for Life in how we treat all of God's creations."

"Bless this wheat flour -- it reminds us that change is hard.  The wheat had to grow in hot sun, be cut, ground and milled.  Sometimes we also struggle to do what is right.  Give us strength Lord."

Even the pans got a blessing:

"Bless these pans that give bread shape.  God has shaped us from the earth and love.  

May we remember that He is always there to help us and love us."

Honestly, the whole day is a lesson in being grateful for the most essential and simple items that we take for granted and barely notice.

It's humbling and beautiful and it fills me up for a good long while...like a cold, icy drink on that ragged, hot day...I am so so good after this retreat.

Caroline brought home her bread, eager to share it with all of us.

We had to wait until John got home from a business trip so we waited a day to break the bread together.

And in one day...a tiny blip of a few hours...

our priest was arrested and put in jail for statutory rape of a minor.

And that is being Catholic too.

(And I'm not being ironic.)

We are in this together.  There is no us vs. them.  We are all us. 

Always.

Bad things, terrible things, heartbreaking things are all around us.

Really good people make really bad choices every day.

People who you count on, disappoint.

Hell, we disappoint ourselves and the very people we love dearly, constantly.

It's messy being human.

It's hard to have moral courage day in and day out...damn near impossible.

It's shameful and heartbreaking and sometimes just plan sad.

But then we get moments like this:

And it all becomes really clear.

We only have each other...for a limited time at best.

Even when it's messy, scary, dangerous, or maybe especially when it is those things, 

we need to cling to each other.

Cling to the ancient wisdom that is our faith.

Cling to the holy words of St. Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.  

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

Oh, Divine Master, grant that I may

not so much seek to be consoled, as to console.

To be understood, as to understand.

To be loved, as to love.

For it's in giving that we receive.

And it's in pardoning that we are pardoned.

And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

Somehow.some.way.we find comfort that this messy crazy world has been just like this for thousands of years...full of broken people doing their best  -- and failing quite often.

Still in this world of sadness, disappointment, loss, ignorance and hatred there is the beauty.  

Unmistakeable beauty.

It is full to the brim with miracles like water and salt and sugar and love and redemption and second chances and new life...

over and over again.

For some people, faith seems ridiculous.

Laughable.

For me, especially in times like these...it's the only thing that makes sense.

It is a comfort to know that others have been right here in the middle of their messy, broken lives and found a way.

It's a comfort to rest in the words, the prayers and the basic truths that are my faith.

I'm going to wait for the light.

It's coming.

I have faith.

Until then, I'll make my peace with the dark.

For that's what makes the light even more beautiful.