My genealogy.... followup

As I was preparing my Sunday School lesson this past week, using the LDS Institute manual on Intro to Family History, the following jumped out at me,"It is very important not to impose guilt on your students." The lesson went on to say that not everyone will have the time, funds or ability to do family history to the same degree and each person should prayerfully assess over and over again what role they are meant to play at any given time.

I don't feel too bad about heaping guilt upon my friends, but I would amend the guilt by saying, " Do the best that you can given your circumstances in life and you will be rewarded for whatever role you play in the course of family history and temple work." End of guilt sequence. Your humble servant. K

Favorite books

When I was a kid I kept a list of every book I ever read, because I never wanted to forget the titles. The list started with my favorite picture book, "The Ice Cream Cone Coot". Of course I read the classics like, Ramona and Henry Huggins by Beverly Cleary and the Fudge series by Judy Blume. However, my very favorite books were the ones about fashionable young girls who lived with their parents on Park Avenue. I liked obscure little stories set in the fifties anywhere on the East coast, which seemed so exotic at the time. Stories of winter in Vermont, summers on Cape Cod, or running away to the Metropolitan Museum, transported me to another world.

Nowadays I don't have as much time for reading as I would like, but I thought I would share some of my recent favorites. I will try to stay away from the over-saturated realm and mention some lesser known titles. In the last few years I have become smitten with East Asian literature. Perhaps like the stories I adored as a child, these stories are so foreign that I am transported to an almost imaginary world. My introduction began when I took a course in East Asian studies which required that we read a 900 page novel called, "A Suitable Boy" by Vikram Seth. Then I took a course called Post Colonial Literature, which studied the type of literature that emerged from a culture after the oppressing occupier had retreated from places like India, Jamaica, the Dutch West Indies, or the Belgian Congo. The course opened my eyes to the reality of oppression on the cultural fabric of a place. In this course we had to read "Kim" the only novel written by Rudyard Kipling of Jungle Book fame. The story was so laden with cultural anachronisms that the book required a "JST like" interpretation. Every third word caused me to turn to the end notes in the back of the book for explanation.

A short list of favorites:

Vanishing Cornwall by Daphne DuMaurier
The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis
Brick Lane by Monica Ali
An Equal Music by Vikram Seth

p.s. If you want some good recommendations check for the Man Booker prize short list and winners. This is the British equivalent of the Pulitzer, and they award prizes to books published through UK publishers. The result is that there are often a very diverse list of books each year from authors living in former British colonies all over the world. I find the nominees on the Man Booker list to be more interesting reading than many of the pulitzer nominees.
http://www.themanbookerprize.com/

It's a small Mormon world

I live in the United States which is a pretty big country. I am LDS, which can now count over 11 million people as members. I am totally amazed at what a small world it is though! I currently live 750 miles from my hometown. In my small ward 750 miles from home I know of five people from my hometown, three of whom went to my high school. Kathleen B. and I went to junior high and high school together. Craig and Kim W. lived in my mom's ward for a time and Craig went to high school with my sister. The Bishop's dad was one of my high school teachers. Drew B. went to my high school, albeit many years after me. There might be others I just don't know about right now.

When I lived in NYC I was surprised at how many visitors I knew at church. I attended church in Brooklyn, not Manhattan, and the church was way out of the way. It took some effort to get there. While talking to one missionary in Brooklyn he was talking about his best friend. The more he talked I realized he was talking about my cousin. That is the great thing about being LDS, we are a social religion, not just a 'show up on Sunday in whatever clothes you feel like' religion. We really know each other, we take care of each other and we love each other. I could go to church anywhere on earth and there is a good probability that I might run into someone I know. What a cool religion! Oh yeah, and to top it off the doctrine is beautiful perfection!

Finally.... Another post!

After posting like crazy I hit a dry spell. First I got a terrible cold and then I got a new client. I have been super busy. Oh yeah! I also started teaching Sunday School. I am trying to finish up my website. I wrote a proposal for a book. I started working on a custom calendar for genealogists and I am slowly packing up the contents of my house. I still work in the family history center eight hours a week. Let's see what else?

When you put it down on paper it is pretty overwhelming, but in reality it is just normal life for me. I have no complaints! Except one. I left a single glass in the sink today and what do you think my husband said as soon as he walked in the door? Yep, you guessed it. How come you can be wonder woman and they will still notice the one thing left undone?

When I look back on the course of my life I have to wonder if it was random or by design. How did I end up with this person and this life? Jerry and I had the same upbringing, same house, same neighborhood, same parents, and the same siblings. When I say "same" I just mean it is uncanny how similar our lives were before we met. Especially considering we were born eleven years and two states apart. We were both at the same Lionel Richie concert in Madison Square Garden in 1986. We both got free tickets at the last minute. Neither one of us particularly enjoyed Lionel Richie's music, but neither one of us can pass up a free concert. Each of us had a grandparent die one day apart in 1969. The first time we met, we spoke briefly and then went our own ways without exchanging names. Four months later we happened to meet again at the same place in San Francisco where neither one of us lived.

The times when I wonder if there was another man out there who wouldn't have cared if I washed a glass, I just remember that there is a higher power looking out for my best interests, who led Jerry into my life for a reason that may not always be apparent to me.

My genealogy is already done

I hear the phrase, "My genealogy is done" at least once a week. If you spent every waking moment for the rest of your life you still would not have completed your family history. I find new people and errors in my family history on a regular basis. By the way, my family history was done when I received copies twenty years ago. All of my ancestors were Mormon pioneers and they had all dutifully done their four generations.

I don't really care if you do your genealogy. I just know the great benefits and rewards. It is kind of like finding out about a great new restaurant and urging all your friends to try it out. For some reason genealogy is a big ogre looming over the lives of the young; at least my friends. When you research "dead" people every day it forces you to face your own mortality. Genealogy is hard work, but it is that kind of satisfying sense of accomplishment. There comes a point where you cross a hurdle and it becomes a joyous experience. There is a learning curve to genealogy, but it is not as big as you might think.

Eternity is organized into families. We are responsible for taking care of our living and our dead relations. They without us cannot be made whole. So I can hear some of you saying, "The temple work is done, so I am off the hook." Wrong! Each of us has an obligation to get to know our ancestors and to instill the love that we have developed for our ancestors into our children. By spending time getting to know ancestral stories we get to know them. I think it is so great to be able to put your kids to bed with real bedtime stories, like harrowing tales of immigration.

Joseph Smith said, "Our dead should be as dear to us as our living relatives." The way that we get to know our living relations is by spending time with them. We sit around the dinner table and tell stories. We take little moments to just be together. We sit in church and reverently pray together. In similar ways we can get to know our ancestors. When you spend hours hunched over a microfilm reader and finally find the person you have been seeking, they are right there in the room with you in spirit. They cast a warm glow of love upon you that cannot be described. When you visit the cemetery and touch the weathered headstone you get a sense of the love felt for this person, which warms your heart. What is even more unfathomable is that when you exert great energy and effort on behalf of your ancestors they start to fall in love with you.

When you meet them in the Spirit World you will know them and they will know you. Once you are in the Spirit World I wonder if it will be too little too late? I wonder if they will ask, "Why did you not do more for me?" or "Why didn't you get to know me when you had such good access to the records?" Heavenly Father has more than opened the way. You can do genealogy at home in your pajamas after the kids are in bed. I started researching when all research had to be done on site. There was nothing you could do at home except organize what you had collected. Sometimes it meant saving up for a trip here or there, but I cannot tell you the benefits I have gained from family history. I am NEVER bored.

SF Public Library Card

I visited a friend in Redwood City yesterday and on my way back through the city I decided to get a San Francisco Public Library Card. It is something I have been meaning to do for a while. If I had thought about it ahead of time I could have determined which branches would be open. Apparently, many of the branches are closed on Mondays. What kind of world do we live in where the richest city in the richest state in the richest country does not have enough funding for it's libraries to be open Monday through Saturday?

I first went to Sutro, a state genealogical library, which I know is open on Mondays to ask where the nearest SFPL branch might be. It was really close by, just across from Stonestown at Winston and 19th. I parked, strode up to the door and yanked on it. I fully expected it to be open on a Monday at 2:30 in the afternoon. Luckily they had a list of other libraries on the door. I made note of a few nearby and set off. First stop Ocean and Faxon, closed. To make a long story short I tried two more branches which were both closed before I stumbled across the West Portal branch in Potrero Hill. It is a tiny little library in a beautiful old building. The ceiling beams are hand-painted and are so beautiful. I could not stop looking up.



Why would I want a SFPL card? There are many databases that you can access if you are attending a university. Once you leave the university you cannot remotely (from home) access these rich databases. If you live in the San Francisco Bay Area however you can have the benefits of university quality databases through the SFPL. Anybody in the Bay Area can get a library card and even if you move away you can still have access to this valuable online resource, because your library card does not expire. For genealogists it is a holy grail library card coveted by people around the nation. I believe only the NY Public Library has a similar quality of databases available to the public. The NY Times archive is one of my favorites. You can conduct an every word search of every issue of the NY Times from 1851-2004. If you go to SFPL.org and click on articles and databases you will see what is available. I finally have my coveted SFPL card!

Over the Bridge...

I cannot remember how many times I have made the journey across the Golden Gate and through the Waldo Tunnel. I thought I would document the drive so that I can look back on it in my old age.

Hold Firm to the Iron Rod

Every time I teach I end up learning so much. I learned something new yesterday as I was teaching. I found it so mind blowing I had to share.

As I was teaching Sunday school an interesting discussion arose. I was talking about the vision of the Spirit World Jedediah M. Grant received a few days before his death. He saw his wife and other loved ones. He described the buildings as more beautiful than how he imagined Solomon’s temple. He described an atmosphere of “perfect harmony.” I posed the question to the class, “What do you suppose he meant by perfect harmony?’ The consensus was that there could be no contention in a place of perfect harmony. I then queried, “Who is the arbiter of all contention?” The adversary, was the answer.

Therefore if contention is present then it is not coming from within you. There is an evil influence in all contention. It just makes sense to me that if in the place where the adversary cannot dwell there is no contention, then he must be the cause of all contention here on earth. To this a couple of people got a little up in arms and said, “Well you can’t just roll over and play dead. You have to fight back when attacked.” It took me a minute to come up with an answer, but my answer, right or wrong, was that holding to the iron rod is different than being contentious. Contention involves ego, pride, and probably a bit of revenge. Holding to the iron rod means knowing what you believe and value. For those of us who are LDS our values are shaped by our beliefs. When you hold to the iron rod you can stand firm in a way that eliminates any room for argument. When I was hit upside the head with this realization I just had to smile.

What Would Annie Do?

As I take pictures I am starting to ask, "What would my friend Annie do?" She is a great photographer and I am definitely inspired to try for better pictures. Not that I will ever be a pretender to the throne, but I am looking at photography in a whole new light. Thanks Annie!

You never know where someone has been

I want to comment on a portion of a comment I received from Annie B.

>>I'm glad you are able to view a horrible memory as an interesting reflection into human behavior and not internalize it too much<<

It is important to understand that everyone has a story and you just never know where anyone has been. Does that mean that my second grade teacher had any right to be abusive? No! I don't suggest that you let others roll over you, just that you cannot take too much to heart. Like my posting on "the golden rule" you do unto others as you would have done unto you. When someone does something to you that you are fairly sure they would not want done to them you have to get the notion out of your head that it has anything to do with you. It is 100% about them. My teacher had some inner torment and rather than face her own demons she projected her anger outward. I had no way of knowing this as a kid and I dealt with it as best I could at the time. I did not internalize it as a kid because I was very invested in being a good girl and so I knew bad behavior was out of the question.

I have a couple of great examples of "You never know where someone has been."

1. I completed a weeklong vision quest in Death Valley along with a few other people, including a man in his forties. He was nice enough, but almost every day he would do something really selfish. I kind of chuckled to myself each time he did something like walk straight to the front of the chow line. By the end of the week I saw him as a bit arrogant and selfish. When we were telling our stories of our time alone in the desert he revealed that his reason for coming to Death Valley was to get over the death of his child. Twenty years earlier his exasperated wife asked him to please, for once, watch the kids so she could enjoy herself at a friend's barbecue. He did not watch the kids and figured his wife would, as usual, pick up the slack. He was shaken to his core by the screams of his wife who found their two year old in their friend's pool. I never would have guessed that this nice, good looking, successful man had such a story in his past. That day I let go of a lot of perceived victimization by others. You just never know where someone is coming from.

2. A woman I know tends to be unreliable and flaky. Yet she is also spiritual and loving. I have heard several people say things about her like, "That is so typical of her. You can't rely on her for anything." Would it soften peoples hearts to know that her mother, a very religious woman, committed suicide when my friend was a teenager and she found the body? Then her son also died under mysterious circumstances just after returning from his mission, probably also a suicide. How do you reconcile suicide and the early death of loved ones? I would probably be really flaky too.

3. My first office job in New York City was in the garment district. My boss was a jolly fat man and he was very nice. He bought lunch for the office staff every day. He was never unpleasant or stern. One day I noticed the numbers tattooed on his forearm. I knew what the numbers meant, but I asked him to tell me how he came to have them. His entire family were sent to Auschwitz. He and his brother were the only survivors of a large extended family. I was crying as he told me the story. He stopped me and said:

"Don't be sad. I am a better person for the experience and that would make my mother happier than anything. All she wanted was for us to live good lives and be kind. Every day when I buy you lunch I imagine my mother gets a big smile on her face."

Don't take anything negative to heart. You just never know what is going on in another person's psyche. Some people take lemons and make lemonade, others do not.

The Backroads of Marin

When I first moved to Marin seventeen years ago I used to drive the backroads almost every weekend. I loved finding hidden spots and I had a lot a free time since my husband worked weekends back then. Here are some of my favorites:

Roy’s Redwoods
Take Sir Francis Drake Blvd West past Woodacre. When you see the golf course take the next right onto Nicasio Valley Drive. Drive about ¼ mile Just past the crest of the hill when you see the pond on the left pull over to the right shoulder. At the end of the dirt shoulder you will see an iron gate. Walk through the gate and you will enter a long narrow meadow. Walk to the top of the meadow and you will be in the redwoods. The trails are circular and fairly easy hiking; this is me talking so I know most of my friends will have no trouble. Even with a toddler I would say that if you can get up the first slope about 100 feet the rest is a gentle climb. It is difficult to get lost as all the trails circle back. In about 20 minutes you will be at the top of a hill with panoramic vistas. Roy’s Redwoods is open sunrise to sunset and there are no fees. The redwood grove is where they filmed the flying scenes from the first Star Wars movie.



French Cheese Factory
Located on Point Reyes Petaluma Road about ½ mile south of where Novato Blvd. ends.
http://www.marinfrenchcheese.com. Take a tour, taste the cheese, sit by the pond and have a picnic.





Nicasio
The Town of Nicasio has an all-American charm that is worth seeing.




Bon Tempe and Lake Lagunitas
Go to Fairfax and turn left just past the Naft gas station, make an immediate right on Broadway and your next left on Bolinas. At 700 Bolinas Road there is a wooden sign on your left saying “Lake Lagunitas”. Make that left turn onto Sky Oaks Road; go up approximately 1/4 mile and Sky Oaks Watershed Headquarters is on the left at the crest of the hill. You are also at the entrance to Lagunitas and Bon Tempe Lakes. Park and the lake is right there, no hiking. There is a flat trail that goes part of the way around the lake.

If you continue for several miles past the Sky Oaks headquarters turnoff you will come to Bon Tempe Lake. There is a dam and a parking area, which leads to trails. If you continued for many more miles on this road you would eventually emerge near Bolinas, but give yourself an hour to make the drive.

Road from Fairfax to Bolinas/Stinson Beach

Tremors

I have had hand tremors since the age of seven. Extensive medical testing failed to uncover any specific cause. The neurologist labeled it "unexplained physiologic tremors". I pretty much know when they started and I am fairly certain that the tremors are a result of my second grade teacher being abusive. She would walk up and down the rows of the classroom and occassionally smack a child in the back of the head. When I say occasionally I mean maybe once every two or three weeks, so you never knew when it was coming or who would be next. Now you are probably wondering why I would make a post in favor of school, given my experience. My kindergarten, first, fourth, and sixth grade teachers were life changing for the positive. They were all wonderful teachers. I was the teachers pet in fourth grade and my sixth grade teacher really took me under her wing and mentored me.

The tremors are more of an issue for other people than they are for me. It only impacts my life in the fact that I cannot paint my own nails. When I was taking architecture courses I had no problem doing detailed work making scale models and drawing blueprints, it just takes a few attempts to place things straight.

Some people I am close to occassionally grumble, "Stop shaking!" As if it is a choice. When I get stressed or nervous it definitely gets worse, but it is almost like it is a part of who I am. I don't ever try to get control of myself. I don't care if I am visibly shaking. The shaking has never gotten better or worse over the years. In the course of my psychology education several people suggested forgiving my teacher and that would make it go away. I have forgiven her. I have done yoga, therapy, and lots of prayer. I wonder if the calm part of my brain stopped functioning when I was seven? There is a really great class on the brain at my local junior college. I wish I would have taken that class. I probably could have learned a great deal about my own situation.

My sister-in-law also has hand tremors, probably worse than mine and I had to scold my mom a couple of times for jumping in to help her open a lid or change a diaper. She sometimes appears to be struggling, but that is her way of completing tasks. She and I kind of laugh about other peoples reactions to our hand tremors. It is no big deal. I believe that the stress on my psyche at age seven was immense and instead of internalizing the horror, I externalized it as a coping mechanism. In lieu of becoming a kid with behavior problems I developed a physiological problem instead of a psychological problem.

Schooling followup

In a brief conversation tonight I mentioned that a family I knew was planning to move to an area that might be considered marginal. The price of houses is more affordable there, so they are looking to move. A former resident of the town said, "They better look into alternative schooling." I guess the schools are substandard and she suggested looking into a charter school rather than consider attending the public school.

Living in an affluent place where the public schools are pretty good it is easy to delude yourself that everyone has access to decent schools.

Utah Digital Newspapers explained

Through the Marriott Library at the University of Utah there is a project underway to digitize and index many of the newspapers for the state of Utah. Most states have a project like this in process. But since most of my ancestors were from Utah I thought I would explain how to use this one. For those of my friends who don't want to even think about genealogy this is a fun foray into the world of your ancestors.

In the search box enter a full name and check the "exact phrase" box. If you have a mac you will then have to click another link to see the image, but I think on a PC the newspaper image will just come up. If you want to only search a local paper or the Deseret News there is a dropdown box with that option on the home page.

I had one ancestor I knew nothing about, John B. Meredith. Through the Utah Digital Newspapers database I learned that he organized a relief effort for famine victims in Nebraska. He wrote about the changes he made to a mosquito abatement formula the county recommended. He lent his name to an advertisement for Fontyn Tea. He sold prize winning rams. He operated a barge that ran salt from the Great Salt Lake, up the Jordan River, to downtown Salt Lake City. In a letter I was given, John wrote to his daughter, "Did Dr. Fontyn send a check yet?" If not for the advertisement I would have no idea what he was talking about. If you have Utah ancestors you will have fun with this site.

The Perfect Childhood

My nephew Noah in his "igloo" from Ikea

I watched a documentary called, "Take Joy: The Magical World of Tasha Tudor". What fascinated me about her was not that she chooses to live as if it is 1830 or that she writes and illustrates childrens books. What I found fascinating about her life was the devotion she showed to making sure her children had a happy childhood. Her daughter described leaving for school in the morning and knowing that when she arrived home in the afternoon she might have received a piece of mail from a mouse who lived in the house and liked to write letters. I believe they called it "mouse mail". Tasha would write little love notes in script so small that it looked as if a mouse might have written the letter. Tasha created a world where her children could dream and create.

To Homeschool or Not

Until recently I never had an opinion about homeschooling. I personally loathed attending school, for the most part. I often wondered if I would have benefitted from being homeschooled. I was a day dreamer and I would spend most of the day looking out the window at the world passing me by. However, I now see the value of a bricks and mortar school setting.

A woman brought her homeschooled child to his first guitar lesson. She had been teaching him to play guitar by reading notes out of a book. She emailed the day after that first lesson and quit, writing, "I am not willing to pay for something I can do myself." Now I feel compelled to explain that Jerry's guitar lessons are fun, low pressure, and every student walks away being able to play something from day one. Jerry called this woman back and explained that there is a lot more to playing guitar than reading notes off a page. Unless you have been in the trenches you cannot possibly know that instead of playing the difficult Am7 chord you could play the easier C over G chord and get the same sound. This principle applies to math, biology, history and every other field of study. Those who are experts in any subject can convey the beauty and simplicity of complex ideas. The woman replied to Jerry, "There is nothing my child needs to know that I cannot teach him."

I thought about that statement for a few days. This mother is likely going to instill stupidity. What is the point of a head full of knowledge but a stupid approach to life? I am sure that those who homeschool probably have the opposite goal. I don't mean stupid as in unintelligent, but stupid as in uninformed. The credential for elementary education is a long learning path. Those with a credential know things that the average person does not know about education, learning styles, and behavior.

I am sure that there are some great things about homeschooling, but there are drawbacks too. Every family has some level of dysfunction from being too close or enmeshed to being too distant. Kids need a few hours each day, separate from the family, to figure out who they are in the world without constant parental feedback. Time spent on the playground gives kids the chance to form relationships outside the watchful eye of their parents. These relationships are crucial to development. Kids get feedback from their peers ranging from, "I don't like you" to "You are my best friend."

There is no other setting including karate, ballet, and sunday school that compares to school. You start the year not knowing anybody. Over time you develop relationships with the teacher and other students in a comprehensive, intense setting. You learn what others expect out of you. You get to inform others what you expect out of them. You get daily feedback from adults outside your family. And then the school year closes and you have to say goodbye to people you have learned to love or loathe. School is much more than an education. You get to experience love, anger, exhilaration, boredom, frustration, joy, and loss in a controlled way.

I would bet that everyone who ever attended school had at least one teacher who changed their life. Mentors are invaluable. There is more to life than education. I never thought about homeschooling before, but I would say that the educational shortfalls from attending public school can be made up for later in life. I know this from my own experience. When I entered college my writing skills were lacking. I figured out what I needed to improve and I worked on the weak areas. There is only one chance to learn the social nuances of being five, eight, or seventeen years old with other kids of the same age.

Can I mow your lawn?

Jerry and I have been frustrated by the Utah attitude towards money. Several people have tried to bargain on the price of guitar lessons. This is how we pay our bills. Jerry has taught for 26 years. He is effective and he gets great results with his students. Once again someone called for lessons and his mom called back to say that they couldn't afford that much. Oh Well!

That was two weeks ago and today the teenager called Jerry and said, "I want lessons with you so bad that I am going to raise the money to pay for the lessons myself." He asked if he could mow our lawn as partial payment. I thought that was so darn cute. His drive to pay for his lessons despite the "high cost" restores my faith in humanity.

Shutterbug

I am not the greatest photographer, but I like to try for good pictures. A couple of years ago I bought the greatest little camera, a Pentax Optio. All the pictures in posts prior to this one were taken with the Pentax. Sadly, the Pentax is no longer with us. Jerry left it at the Bohemian Club and it was not turned in to "lost and found". Thus began the odyssey of trying to replace my beloved camera. I bought and returned three cameras, including another Optio. I found the quality of the photos disappointing.

I think I may have finally found a good replacement, a Sony Cybershot. I snapped a few pictures outside including a picture of my plum tree in blossom against a pitch black, moonless sky. I have very shaky hands and out of 30 pictures I am lucky if 2 or 3 are not blurry. About 50% came out fairly clear with the Sony. Check out the results.

p.s. I could not frame the tree in the viewfinder because I could not see it. The light is strictly from the flash. The photos were taken with no tripod and I think for a nighttime shot with no tripod and shaky hands they came out fairly clear. Good camera!

Things are not always what they seem

My cat is nearly seven years old and fairly predictable. I have had him since he was four months old. He used to bring live salamanders home. Who knew salamanders could scream? After I rescued the second salamander from Kitty's clutches he stopped bringing his playthings home. Six years later I was surprised when I opened the front door and found a dead bird on my door mat. The kitty was a few feet away meowing in a very strange way that almost sounded like a question. Mewwww?

I scolded the kitty and closed the door as Jerry reminded me that cats are carnivores. I said, "I know, but what I don't know won't bother me." I could not believe that the cat would lay a dead bird on my door step.

Two days later as I approached the front door, and the sun was hitting it just right, I noticed a splotch of blood and feathers near the top of the door. The bird had flown into the door and the kitty had simply discovered the bird. I jumped to the wrong conclusion, despite knowing better.

The Thing About Utah

South end of Utah Lake

When we first decided to move it was purely an economic decision. Houses in Marin start at about $800,000 and we did not choose high paying careers. We decided that Utah would be a good place to own property, because it would fit within our budget. Once we decided to move however there was a definite outpouring of opinion. The general comment was: "Why on earth would you want to live in Utah?" We heard this comment from Mormons and non-Mormons alike. While I don't tend to like defending my decisions I thought it would be worth coming up with an answer. I actually found an answer on a discussion list online that I happened to stumble across. This guy posted something like this, I paraphrase, "Lets see, yeah why would you want to live in a place where the worst crime likely to be perpetrated upon you is that someone will walk off with your pen?"

I laughed when I read that one. I heard from other people things like: "In Utah you live on the same street as your bishop and relief society president and the ward clerk." I grew up in Utah. I don't remember that bothering me. I spent four years in New York City where you could collapse on the street and people will step over you (generalization). For seventeen years I have lived in Marin where everybody lives tucked away behind six foot fences. I have never been inside any of my neighbors homes. I couldn't ask any of them for a ride to the airport. So given the choice between too much intrusion or none at all I would probably lean towards too much at this point in my life.

Today one of Jerry's Utah student's moms brought him a loaf of homemade bread. He said it is the best bread he has ever tasted. That is the kind of thing I appreciate about Utah.

Adversity?

Last night while attending a meeting a woman tearfully told me that her soon-to-be-born grandchild has Spina Bifida. I could tell that she was scared and upset. How do you comfort someone who is facing the unknown? We all want healthy children and the only words of comfort I could offer her were my own experience.


Thirteen years ago we discovered that one of my sisters twin daughters was born deaf. I think at first we were in shock and maybe even a bit sad that she would be missing out on the sounds of life, like music and laughter. You cry and then you move on. What we could not have anticipated is how this seeming negative could actually be a positive. Most members of our family have learned sign language. We have also changed as a family for the positive. I am sure Sierra struggles with her deafness, but she is a special kid.

When she was small, age 3 or 4, Sierra wanted to help with everything. She would pull a stool up to the counter and insist on stirring, washing dishes, and chopping. Then when dinner was well under way she would run outside and help grandpa rake leaves. She is still the same at thirteen as she was at three; she works really hard. Sierra also has this special way of seeing right through you. When I took her to see my house for the first time she looked in every room and closet. We headed out the front door and she pulled me back in the house telling me we needed to have a talk.

At the time Jerry and I were not sure if or when we would be able to live in the house. Very slowly and earnestly Sierra signed the following:

"I know that you want an investment, but this is much, much more than an investment. This is a home. This is more than a house, it is a home. You need to live here. After I go to college and graduate, if you have not moved in I am going to live here. OK." It was such a precious moment that I was laughing and crying at the same time.

I have had a few events in my life that on the surface seemed devastating. For the most part, in the end, the adversity was not so adverse. In 1989 I returned to my apartment in Brooklyn to discover that I had been burgled. They took nearly everything. I decided to leave New York and I did not have much to move. The burglarly spurred me into action. Two years ago I had my car stolen from Northgate mall. After this adverse situation I ended up with a much nicer car.

I guess adversity has helped me clarify my priorities too. When you have a challenge thrown before you it is a chance to choose. I got to choose whether to be a victim to the circumstances. I got to choose whether to make the best of things. I got to choose a new path. I got to choose who I wanted to be.