#sitwiththis

I recently read this question asked of Black leaders in a forum:  Do Black people get sunburned? As the mom of two Black children I had some experience in this area, but I chose to keep my thoughts to myself and listen. I am learning that this is the very best way to learn from people way more informed and experienced than myself. 

I mean, think about it...who would you ask if Black people can get sunburned: White people or Black people? It's a no-brainer, right? 

Then why won't you listen to Black people about racism? Specifically about whether racism is happening frequently in 2020.  Aren't they the ones who would have the experience and knowledge to tell whether racism is alive and well in 2020? Aren't people of color the experts? 

No? How on earth can you claim to know more about racism and whether it's happening right now than people who receive racism?! 

And yet, that's what I see so many White people claiming: 

"There is no racism today." 

"Racism is dead; Black people keep dredging it up." 

"Stop claiming racism about everything!" 

"Racism is getting worse because Black people keep pushing it."

"I'm appalled at the murder of George Floyd, but I see no evidence it was racist."

"I understand why Black people are mad, but they should stop rioting."

And on and on.

White people: You are NOT the experts in racism. Black and Brown people are. Stop talking over them. Stop questioning their perceptions. Just stop.

And listen.

Listen to Colin Kaepernick's peaceful, quiet kneel.

Listen to Shaun King's social media posts.

Listen to Michelle Alexander and Ibram X. Kendi in their books about race.

Listen to Bryan Stevenson's TED Talk, "We Need to Talk About an Injustice." 

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. called riots "the voice of the unheard." White America needs to make Black America heard. White America needs to stop talking over Black America and listen. Really listen. Stop telling Black people that their experiences aren't really what they say they are. Stop telling Black people that they're saying it wrong. Stop telling Black people that you're not racist; instead tell them what you're doing to be anti-racist. After you listen.

Listen to the experts on racism: Black Americans. Brown Americans. 

If we White Americans do not truly listen to Black and Brown Americans right now, there will be more riots. More anger. More hatred. I do not recommend rioting, but I do understand it. I support those who are doing it because no one is listening to their long list of grievances. Below is a diagram for you to explore to see if you yourself contribute to those grievances. Take some time to explore it and your own behavior.

When someone is being hurt repeatedly by another, we encourage politely telling the aggressor to stop. If they don't, we tell people to say it stronger. And if the perpetrator continues, we give permission to hit back. I mean, seriously folks, isn't that what you've told your kids??? If the bully won't listen to your words, your strong, powerful words, you can hit them back. Stand your ground even puts it into law. Talk. Talk strongly. Hit back.

Start listening, White America. Seek Black voices and listen.

Please.

78 Days in Self-Quarantine

We've been "staying at home" for 78 days now. For 78 days our children have gone absolutely nowhere out of our own house or yard. They have seen almost no one beyond our immediate household. Our teenager has been out exactly twice: once she sat in the car while I got some supplies; the second time, she was allowed in the store with me as long as she didn't touch anything. We've been wearing face masks when in the presence of anyone outside our household. Brad has gone out to visit congregants three times, I believe. He's done one burial service, outside and with only three mourners (beyond himself). Each time he's gone out, he has worn a face-covering and stayed at least six feet apart. Three times now, we have had some Christian friends bring us food. This has been a huge blessing! We are very grateful for the surprise and the food.

I know we're not the only family self-isolating. Your story may look a lot like ours, or yours may be one of the areas that are "opening up" and your family is more on the go than ours. As I wrote in my first coronavirus post, there are many reasons why we have chosen self-quarantine. Those are the very same reasons why we are continuing to self-quarantine. Read our reasons here.

On March 10, the day our family went into isolation, the CDC reported 25 total COVID deaths in the USA. Today, 78 days later, the CDC is reporting more than 98,000 COVID deaths in the United States. That's more than 1250 deaths on an average day. And according to many public health officials, this sobering total is likely much higher. I think as time goes on, we will have a more accurate count, and whether that is higher or lower than the current totals, it is staggering.

Our family has had some very good experiences during this lockdown. We have cooked together a lot; my children are all learning how to work in the kitchen. We've played games with friends via Skype. We are learning to "make do" with what we have, as we have eliminated all trips away from home to about once weekly for the post office and once monthly for the grocery store. Yes, really; that's it. We have spent lots of time together on our ninja line obstacle course outside and playing board games inside. Our teenager has invited the little guys to a monthly "sleepover" in the living room, complete with snacks she bakes and other treats. That has led our smaller children to have almost-weekly "sleepovers" with each other in their own bedrooms.

In addition, we worship together in our kitchen each Sunday. We've developed new traditions around birthdays: video-singing and personal birthday cakes. We're growing our abilities to work together and give grace to one another. We're done with pre-kindergarten, first grade, and seventh grade in our homeschool. Everyone is finishing up their last little bits, and we're playing lots of educational games in "summer school." For the first time, the teenager isn't in "summer school," she's doing some review on her own!

As we look ahead, we are anticipating a completely different summer and fall than usual. Our annual trip back to the Midwest is on hold for now. Our teen's switch to public school is on hold (who knows if open enrollment will even be possible in the times of COVID). Swimming, kayaking, hiking, and more is waiting on the okay from the tribe, and on our own comfort levels.

But we're not dismayed. (Well, maybe the teen is occasionally dismayed.) We have been investing in backyard play equipment to make it more fun to be home. We're waiting for the summer heat so we can blow up our pool and add it to the backyard fun. We're continuing the work of praying, feeding the hungry, passing out masks (thanks to some wonderful supporters around the country), and more. We're even developing a Virtual VBS for the kids here!

We are very blessed that our jobs and lives allow us to continue to work and be happy from home. We are not suffering from quarantine, as I know some families are. If we can provide support of some kind for your family, please let me know via email at robinlynnekautz@gmail.com. We're all in this together, and we can all make it if we support one another!

A Visit From the Past

I have fought depression my whole life. I grew up in a home with two depressed parents who didn't seek help until they divorced and I was out of the house. I know depression from the perspective of a child trying to hold her parent together. As an adult, I realized that I, too, was suffering from depression. I sought medical help and was put on amazing medication that has made my life balanced, for the most part.

About six months ago, I had a second near-death asthma attack. My pulmonologist put me on a new medication for allergic asthma. It has been a miracle cure for my asthma, however, a side-effect is depression. And either that or the coronavirus stress has triggered several depressive episodes in the past couple of months.

I recognize that I spent most of my childhood fighting this disease. The anxiety to make any decisions, the fear of what someone with think/say, the constant gloom over my thoughts, especially about the future. The familiarity of these things is not a comfort. Almost all  of the past 20 years has been free from these and other depressed thoughts. I prefer that!

Whether it is my medication or our worldwide pandemic, I cannot escape the circumstances of my current depression. My medication is a life-or-death deal with my asthma. Covid-19 isn't something anyone can escape, at this point. So what do I do?

I could call my doctor and try a different anti-depressant. I already asked her to increase my dose of the current medication, and that has helped. I really don't want to increase it again or switch meds, but I certainly will if I don't get relief another way.

Another way.

What else is there? What can we do if we are facing depression or anxiety? Even if it's not of the clinical sort...

Eat well. Eat the right things. Avoid the sugar. Give your body good stuff to work with. Along with that: Exercise. Get moving. Multiple times per day if possible. Walk. Ride. Run. Climb. Swing. Spin. Stretch. If your body has the right building blocks for health, you will be healthier, including mentally.

Get outside. Get out in the sunshine. The shade. The mountains. The oceans. The yard. Under the tree with a book. On a chair, snoozing. Watch the birds. The squirrels.  Being outside is good for our bodies and brains.

Sing. Anything. With anyone. Online. In the shower. To your babies. To your cats or dogs. Even your turtles! Sing songs you love and sing songs you're learning.

Listen to music that makes your heart pound.

Draw, paint, write, or sculpt. It doesn't matter if you have a significant talent! Just the act of creating is positive and pleasant.

Write letters. Make phone calls. Text your friends. Message your family. Stay in contact. Being in communication with other humans will help your spirits.

Pray. Meditate. Do yoga. Or martial arts. Whatever lowers your heartbeat and calms your mind.

Read your Bible. Do devotions. Pray with your household. Or by yourself. Or with an online friend. Or on the phone with your parents. Seeking God and asking Him to intervene in our depressed states is productive.

Reach out to your medical provider. Telehealth is gaining in popularity. I didn't have to actually go to my doctor's office to increase my medication. But even if you have to go, medication can be a lifesaver. It has been for one of my parents and for myself. Don't be afraid to ask for help.

I'm praying for the whole world right now. Especially those without easy access to water, food, and other necessities. And especially for those struggling with mental health during this pandemic. If you are doing fine, will you join me in prayer?

Making Bricks

For several weeks, I have been curious about a project one of our Jicarilla Apache neighbors is undertaking in their yard. It has involved ladder-like frames such as the ones above, a large, hanging wooden-framed sifter with a screen bottom, and lots of digging. Out of respect for the Native family doing this project, I have no pictures of the actual project.

This morning on our walk, my daughter and I walked by this neighbor's house and glanced to see if the project had revealed itself yet. I still have no idea what the final project will be, but I do now know that the frames above are for making adobe bricks.

Yep. Bricks.

Handmade. Adobe.

The growing pile of bricks is impressive. I can't wait to see the final product! And now that I know they're making bricks, all the activity makes sense. Sifting the soil to remove rocks. Building the frames. Mixing water into the mud and filling the frames. Do we live in a cool place, or what?

As my daughter and I talked about the brick-making project, both of us recalled "Cowboy George" and his stories about Moses in VBS a couple of years ago. He was telling the kids about how the Israelites lived as slaves in Egypt for 400 years.

He would ask the kids, "What did the Israelites do on Mondays?"

The kids would shout, "Make Bricks!"

"What did the Israelites do on Tuesdays?"

"Make Bricks!"

"Wednesdays?"

"Make Bricks!"

And so on.

I imagine brick-making (then and now) to be a hot, dusty, dirty, exhausting activity. And like I said, I have no idea what the final product will be for my neighbors' endeavors. I'm sure it will be worth the effort!

I'll bet the Israelites had no idea what their bricks would be used for as they slaved away. And perhaps the majority of Israelites had a different duty.

At any rate, I think making bricks is a great analogy for the Christian life right now. We are not having live church services, prayer meetings, youth groups, Bible studies, or any other standard pastoral ministry. My husband is recording messages and posting links to songs and liturgy. He is contacting our congregation members to check in with them. We are providing food, prayer, and even a place to pitch a tent in the church property to those who wander by. Thankful to a few friends, we will soon be passing out cloth face masks to any and all who need them.

But it doesn't feel like much in the way of service right now. Our typical ways of serving God here are not happening due to COVID-19 restrictions from the tribe and the state... and our own desire not to be the seeding event that brought an outbreak to the reservation.

So what can a Christian do?

Make bricks.

Praise God. Praise Him for the water you drink, home you live in, food you eat, people you love, animals you love, beauty surrounding you, His love and redemption, and on and on...

Make bricks.

Serve Him. Give food to the hungry, make masks and give them away, put bottles of water outside your house for those passing by in need, buy an extra bag of potatoes and drop them on the porch of a neighbor, take dinner to the local hospital or care home, mow the church lawn, and on and on...

Make bricks.

Pray. Pray for health, pray for safety for the health care workers, pray for unity in our country, pray for your loved ones, pray for yourself, pray for your church, pray for peace in the world, pray for peace in your soul, pray for the elderly, pray for the babies, pray for those whose world will never be the same, pray for the more than 87,000 families who have lost loved ones in the United States, and on and on...

Make bricks.

Listen to Christian songs (like this one by Rhett Walker) that raise your soul, read your Bible, do an online Bible study (I study with faraway friends via the YouVersion Bible app), use online devotionals (like this one by Words of Hope), and on and on...

Make bricks, Christians, make bricks.

I Challenge You.

This post is directly aimed toward my white friends and family. I make no apologies for that. It is necessary. It is time. It is past time... It is WAYYYYY past time...

I have addressed racism in this blog before. I have named black men and women, boys and girls, who have been slaughtered because a police officer thought them dangerous. Or a "neighbor" didn't recognize them. Or they were jogging while black. Or... Or... Or...

It is time, white people, to move beyond your "color-blind" attitude. I had a black acquaintance recently ask me, "If someone said, 'I don't see your gender. I don't see you as a woman at all; you're just like everyone else,' would you feel like they knew you? Understood you? Or would you feel like they were ripping a piece of your identity away? Like they were ignoring a big part of who you are?" I already knew that "being color blind" was offensive to many black and brown people, but I hadn't really internalized it until I thought about that. Being a woman is a large part of who I am, how I see myself. Robbing me of that part of my identity would absolutely hurt me. And it hurts black people when anyone strips them of their black identity.

So, no more "color blindness." It's false. It's hurtful. It's racist.

Yes. Racist.

It is time, white people, to step out and accept that we all, all, hold racist thoughts and beliefs. It's time to stop pretending and start self-examining. I have lived as a white minority in a black majority country. I have lived as a white minority in an indigenous community. I raised two black children in small-town Iowa. And none of that has eliminated my racial biases completely. I purposefully include people in my life who challenge my thinking in many ways, including race.

We, white people, need to stop avoiding the topic of race. It is not racist to talk about race or to notice race. It is racist to pretend that race doesn't exist. It is racist to pretend that you think of all people in absolutely equal terms. It is simply avoiding our own biases!

It is time, white people, to go beyond, "I'm not racist" to "I'm anti-racist."

Stop seeing this as "all in their heads" or "It's only a few racists." Stop saying, "I'm colorblind." Stop saying, "That's old news. Things are better now."

Just stop all the excuses and rationalizations.

Speak up. Stand up. Get up!

Maybe you wouldn't have tried to take Rosa Parks' seat. Maybe you wouldn't have attacked Ahmaud Arbery. Maybe you have never used a racial slur in your life. Maybe you've never held your purse a little tighter when the black man got on the bus.

But it's time to go beyond that. Be anti-racist.

Anti-racism means fighting against racism. Taking a stand in public when a racist  individual utters a slur. Stopping your coworker when they start a racist joke. Listening to the persons of color around you and bringing up institutional practices that foster white privilege or short-change blacks. And actively trying to understand structural racism, to dismantle it.

This will not be easy.

This will not be simple.

This will not be comfortable.

Too bad, white people, too bad. It is time to be uncomfortable to make room for the comfort of persons of color. It is time to take on the complex issues of institutional and structural racism. 

It is time, white people, to use your privilege to leverage justice for our black and brown neighbors.

Now.

Glass Artist

If you've been reading my blog from the beginning, you know that I started this project when I was a stained glass artist. I gave that up for multiple reasons several years ago, but I still think like a glass artist often. Glass, its colors and textures, brings me breathtaking joy!

This morning on my walk in the beautiful Jicarilla Apache Nation, I found a different sort of glass which brought a different sort of thoughts. It was curved upward and very sharp. I picked it up because I didn't want any barefoot children to step on it.

When I see or pick up broken glass like this on the reservation, I pray for the person who dropped it. I pray for their circumstances and their life and their faith.

You see, underlying the entrenched problems with alcohol and drugs on the reservation is the trauma that drives people to drink. I've failed for years to express this adequately, but I think, today, I know how.

Like our entire world right now, the people here have an enormous amount of collective trauma. Like all of us in the COVID-19 crisis, they have watched death over and over. Like everyone on earth today, they have feared when (not if) it will be their turn to experience misery, loss, and terror.

We have lived with the coronavirus for a few months. The Jicarilla Apache and other Indigenous Americans have lived with trauma for centuries. I'm going to tell you some stories, told to me by people I personally know. I am changing some identifying information to protect the people I know and love, but each of these stories is absolutely true, to the best of my ability to verify.

I know a man who was told by his grandmother the story of the US Army chasing the Jicarilla Apache in the 1800s because the tribe had left the reservation to return to their homelands. When the army caught up with the tribe, the women and children (including the man's grandmother) had scrambled up on top of a huge boulder. They watched while the men of the tribe were slaughtered.

I know middle-aged men and women who tell about their childhoods in the boarding school. Some speak of the safety they felt there, and others remember being forcibly held down while their sacred braids were shorn or having their mouths cleaned with soap because they spoke their native language.

I know a woman who had her uterus removed after her third child, because it was US government policy to sterilize Indigenous women! She did not consent to this operation, as she was lied to about her condition because the government told doctors to lie.

I know a family who has buried every single one of their children. Every. One. Another family has held funerals for all but one of their children. This is not unusual here. Can you imagine the pain? Another family buried two young men, cousins, in less than a month. When we lost our granddaughter five years ago, we sat in a Bible study and talked, realizing that every single one of the adults in the study had buried a child or grandchild.

I know many children who are being raised by their grandparents because their parents are either dead or dysfunctional. I know grandparents who are raising grandchildren from multiple families for the same reasons. I know children who have lost both parents within a year from alcohol abuse or suicide. I know a woman whose daughter committed suicide and her ten-year-old grandson found his mother hanging from the rafters. The trauma is passed from generation to generation.

If I can feel overwhelmed and depressed about the climbing death toll (of people I don't even know) of a disease, how much more can a Native American feel overwhelmed and depressed about the climbing death toll in their own tribe, of their relatives and friends?! My husband has done more than 65 funerals in six and a half years. Only a few have been for people who died in old age of natural causes.

If we, as a nation, can suffer shock as we go through this pandemic, how much more shock can a tribe of 4,000 experience when scores of young people die from alcohol abuse, drug abuse, suicide, murder, and accidents over the course of six years?!

If we can be afraid of a disease that has a small chance of killing us or someone we love, how much more fear must a member of the Jicarilla Apache Nation have that their children, spouse, or grandchildren will succumb to the pandemic of grief and pain that surrounds them?

Take your weakest moment in this pandemic and multiply it by tens or hundreds...imagine if you knew or knew of  half or more of the dead. Then, you might begin to comprehend the trauma here and elsewhere among Native peoples. I've been here more than six years, and I am only barely beginning to understand the depth of despair...and the depth of the joy among the Jicarilla Apache. For there is great joy here, also! Joy in family, joy in culture, joy in life, joy in community!

My purpose today was not to give a complete picture of the culture here, but to help outsiders understand the collective trauma here that so desperately needs the hope of Jesus Christ. Please know that there is deep joy here, a beauty beyond the landscape, fierce love for family and community and tribe, and much good.

Returning to the trauma...

Where is our hope when faced with trauma like COVID-19 or the collective traumas of indigenous peoples?  Our hope is in the Lord (Psalm 39:7, among others). When we feel like we're sinking, we can reach out for Jesus' hand like Peter did and walk on the water (Matthew 14:22-33). When we see no way forward, we can pray for God to part the sea (Exodus 14). When we are afraid of what is coming for us or our families, we can lean into God's "Fear Not" (Isaiah 41:10).

And that is why we're here. To bring God's Word and Hope to this people. So, to those of you who support this ministry, I hope you understand a bit more of the work here. And to those of you who love us, I hope you understand a bit more of why we serve here. And to those of you who are Jicarilla Apache, I welcome your input into my understanding. I can only speak from a mongaanii point of view, and if I'm off-point, please let me know.

God is the great glass artist, taking broken pieces and putting them together in ways that are beautiful.

Absent Civility

I get it. We disagree. On many things. On many things we care deeply about. But that doesn't excuse the hatred and disrespect I see on social media and on the news lately.

I don't have to agree with someone on everything to be their friend. On my social media accounts, I have everyone from my atheist college buddy to the conservative evangelical Christian friend I met recently through common Christian friends.

I enjoy reading things from different points-of-view. I deeply believe that I learn the most from people who do not think just like I do. I work hard to make sure I look at issues from more than one viewpoint. My mind and heart are awake and open to new thoughts and ideas.

Except...

Except that it seems like every single thing about the COVID-19 pandemic is being politicized!

Every. Single. Thing.

Why can't we just be civil?

Even if we disagree on how well President Trump has done in dealing with the pandemic, can't we all discuss what comes next without calling each other "Libtards" or "Morons"?

Even if we have differing ideas on when the economy opens back up, can't we all agree that we all want what's best for America and its citizens?

The answer to those questions seems to be, "No." And add insults to the "No" because...well...that's just what we do these days.

But how about this: We discuss ideas instead of blame. We debate just how to reopen the economy while protecting the most people and our health care systems. We speak to one another with respect, as someone whose ideas are worth at least hearing.

Civility seems to be entirely absent from discussion about COVID-19. Can we just be grown-ups and respect each other, even when we disagree?

Please?