I Study Dying Well

Virginia Wolf with her parents.

“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe their husband is about to return and need his shoes.” 

― Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

              I haven't yet found a way to share that I study death and dying without people asking (1) won't you get burt out? (2) isn't that depressing? and/or (3) how many people have you seen die? Each of these questions are a reminder of the reality that death is not only one of society's biggest fears but also one of the biggest unknowns. In fact, Geoffrey Gorer (1965) noted that death has become the new "pornography" having replaced sex as the societal taboo.

             However, as Didion explains, we all anticipate that someone close to us will die and yet, working through the challenging emotions can leave us frozen in fear of the unknown. My explanation to each of the questions above is simple, I study the life right before death and the life that follows the passing of a loved one. It is too easy to get hung up on the end result; the eminence of death. Unfortunately, we forget or we just don't know the beautiful way in which the end of life leads to these rare moments of emotional clarity no different from the first time a parent sees their child. Furthermore, we forget that after death comes a new adventure discerning the ways in which we can build a relationship with our loved ones despite their passing. 

           In Moments of Being, Wolf describes her mother's death as "the greatest disaster that could ever happen." And I think, many of us can relate. When we lose someone dear, it is difficult to imagine the relationship changing, the thought of not talking to them as we always have. But despite religious beliefs or personal ones, it is clear that establishing a relationship after the loss of a loved one is necessary to find meaning and to wrestle with their loss. Fortunately in choosing to study death and dying, I get the rare opportunity to create opportunities to dignify the lives of those that we love. And perhaps, even more so, to dignify the lives of those we have forgotten. For the people that navigate this world with no one beside them and also for those that will pass with friends surrounding them. 

          

What Does MLK Day Mean For White People?

 

  Dr. Martin Luther King Jr Day was especially significant this year due to the deaths of Michael Brown in Ferguson and Eric Garner in Staten Island. Many people spent their day volunteering and celebrating and yet many others spent their day enjoying a free day off. As a white woman of relative privilege (who didn't have the day off to join in festivities), I spent much of my day wondering, what does MLK Day mean for white people?
    Dr. King was a radical; his legacy extends far beyond sitting in the front of a bus, having integrated schools, or drinking out of a shared fountain -- Dr. King gave hope back to people that had for far too long been living in fear. For about forty years, the majority of our society stood by while women and primarily men were lynched publicly, women were raped with no promise of punishment for the perpetrators, and children were separated from their families. While the first nail in the Jim Crow coffin was nailed down with the Brown vs. Board of Education ruling, the hatred and brutality only continued. Through all of this, Dr. King was a leader, a man that stood up for his community, and a man with a vision that transcended racial politics with the hope for improving justice, equality, and peace.
     I have the utmost respect for both Dr. King and the many men and women that had the courage to walk the challenging journey of the Civil Rights Movement alongside him. But sometimes, it seems like Martin Luther King Jr. Day becomes a day of remembrance for what happened in the past rather than acknowledging the ways in which his work moves beyond 1960 and seeps into our everyday in the here and now. So what does MLK Day mean for white people? I think for many, myself included, there is a deep sense of guilt. Guilt that often times motivates people towards action or other times inaction.
    Hopefully, after such guilt, there is a feeling of hoping to work towards solidarity rather than to act upon guilt. I believe that for white people, MLK Day is a reminder that it is our duty to obstruct the power dynamic that is set up by society's arbitrary rules. I believe it is an opportunity to remember that if we are sitting in a place of privilege, the right thing to do is listen to "the other" and work towards the necessary steps that will ensure equity. It is a day to honor those that have walked in a hardship that many of us will never understand. Lastly, I believe MLK Day is a day to respectfully honor where we can do better as a society.

New Year's Traditions

   
   


     For many, the month of January is filled with New Years Resolutions -- extra time spent at the gym, better eating habits, and more time spent with family -- but for me, it has always been a month of books. As a little girl, there was nothing better than unwrapping my presents Christmas morning and receiving enough books to tide me through the winter break. With a fresh stack of crisp books sitting on my bedside table, and three weeks of no homework, I was invincible. I road a raft with Huck and Jim, explored planets with St. Exupery, and fell in love alongside Jane. Years later, not much has changed. In fact, at the risk of exposing my inner-nerd, each New Years Day, starting at midnight, I read my very first book of the year from start to finish as everyone else settlers into their beds.
    This year, I read books of all sorts--my first Grisham mystery (don't tell any of my bookish friends), some Nouwen to work through the challenging spiritual crises death brought my family this year, and of course, no year would be complete without my Virginia Woolf. However, my latest book, The Other Wes Moore, deserves its own attention. After finishing this book, I cried a little and wrote a letter to the author (a rarity despite my bibliophilia). Wes Moore, the author, is a Rhodes Scholar, combat veteran, White House Fellow, and a business leader in New York. He also was raised in Baltimore surrounded often by the tragedy that poverty, substance use, and violence bring to communities. Not too far away, a man the same age, with the same name also grew up. However, this Wes Moore is serving a life sentence in prison for the armed robbery and murder of an officer in February of 2000.
     In light of the recent tragedies and tensions surrounding race politics, poverty, criminalization, and the safety of our police force, this book really struck a chord with me. Moore's main question throughout the novel is why did he end up in a place of privilege while "the other Wes Moore" is behind bars? Without placing the blame completely on education, poverty, substance use, mentors, genetics, or environment, Moore does a brilliant job of describing the complexity in which our urban youth live. While he shares "stories" from both  his own life and "the other Wes", he is sure to explain, "I don't want readers to ever forget the high stakes of these stories--and of all of our stories: that life and death, freedom and bondage, hang in the balance of every action we take" (xiv).
    He describes his childhood as one of turbulence. His father died in his presence, his mother working endlessly to make sure he was sheltered as much as he could be. Moore describes entering his neighborhood as "being assaulted" (48).  Low expectations over-shadowed much of his community and Moore describes the joy with which he overcame such expectations. In the end, he notes that his mentors, his mom's firm belief in education and moving out of poverty, and fate are all to blame for his success. In fact, the subtitle, One Name, Two Fates speaks to the strong weight he places on fate's role in his life and the life of the other Wes. The word "fate" in itself implies some kind of serendipity, lack of control, or perhaps predetermined. This was truly the sense I got from reading his comparison of his own life and the lives of the thousands of other children that will never rise out of the poverty that assaults them.
    While fate is uncontrollable, I was touched by the true power of kindness, resilience, and friendship played in the outcomes of both Wes Moore's lives and their futures. I was inspired by the chance that in my own future, I could imagine a world in which we have better methods, practices, education systems, and programming that speaks to the children the way the author of this book was spoken to. In my own lifetime, we can find ways to improve the resilience of youth, the empowerment of women, and decrease the violence and criminalization found in larger numbers in communities of color and poverty. There could be no greater New Years resolution!

The Research Behind Compassion

      

“We have the choice to use the gift of our life to make the world a better place--or not to bother”
-Jane Goodall

    With a blog focused on compassion, I came to the realization that I have yet to directly write about it. So what is compassion and why is it important? Compassion is the feeling of caring for and wanting to help others who are suffering. The tricky part is our society has made compassion a trait rather than a skill. Someone does something kind, or is more sensitive to someone else's suffering, and we say, "they have such an incredible gift of compassion." However, research supports that compassion is not a God-given value but rather a cultivated skill which places each of us at an interesting crux; will we choose to cultivate compassion?

    Perhaps the best examples are those individuals that have already made the choices, and by most standards, have succeeded in such cultivation. Take for instance, Dr. Richard Davidson, the Director of the Center for Investigating Healthy Minds. In 1992, he was encouraged by the Dali Lama to integrate his rich understanding of neuroscience with creating a kinder more compassionate world. Since then, Dr. Davidson has become the leader in compassion research. His findings have indicated that through meditation training, engagement, generosity, and the hope of nurturing well-being in ourselves and others, we can grow in compassion exponentially. Perhaps even more interestingly, is that as our actions change, entire brain regions respond that increase i our ability to be empathetic and to experience more positive emotions. 

    Or what about the public figures we consider outliers that allowed compassion to define nearly all their actions? Mother Teresa, William Wilberforce, Nelson Mandela, Albert Einstein, Mahatma Gandhi, Jane Goodall, Malala Yousafzai -- all of these individuals are standouts for their ability to feel the suffering of others and to do something about that suffering. At the same time, each of them has been referenced speaking about the incredible amount of effort it took to reach the level of compassion they have for others. Take for instance, Albert Einstein, who said, "Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty." Einstein describes being more compassionate as a "task"; if it was a task for one of the most intelligent men to ever live, consider what it means for us.

    It is in the struggle to become more compassionate, the tenacity it takes to work through the challenges we face, and the incredible truth that being compassionate is tough, that I find most inspiring. Compassion is a process-oriented ability. What wonderful power it is to know that to be more compassionate is simply a choice!

Dear White People

Last week, Taylor and I went to watch "Dear White People" in theaters. The film was the winner of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival Special Jury Award for Breakthrough Talent and is a funny, satirical conversation surrounding racial politics in a predominately white and affluent college. Interestingly, on the face of it, "Dear White People" was a direct conversation with privileged whiteness but perhaps even more so, the film asked how blacks find acceptance among other blacks despite the many different challenges they may face related to assimilation. 

Don't get me wrong, as a white woman of privilege, the film made me think quite a bit. As the one of the only two white people in the theatre (with the other being Taylor), I couldn't help but grow a little embarrassed and shocked at the ways that white culture can largely ignore movies that are specifically crafted to uncover the privilege that we take for granted. Not to mention, the humbleness that overcame me as I realized how often and easy it is for a white woman of privilege to put their foot in their mouth when discussing race. 

However, the ways in which "Dear White People" addressed the enormous challenges of the affluent black middle class was the most startling. The film spoke to the ways that my generation's black community is perhaps confronting new problems: assimilation vs culture, mobility vs loyalty. I laughed and felt uncomfortable the whole way through which in a wonderfully metaphysical way captures the ways that most of us deal with race and politics now. While I was impressed and probably could only ever understand 1/8th of what my black counterparts did from the film, there are other ways where I have tried to be a firm ally for the black individuals in my community and other racial minorities. 

To start with, I have recognized that I come from a place of privilege in which often times the best thing for me to do is to shut my mouth and have a good listen. As a white, educated woman, it is my responsibility to be sensitive to the needs of my community, especially those that have a history of disenfranchisement. Touching upon this, is this concept of whiteness. What is whiteness and how do we develop a culture of whiteness without regressing to the Jim Crow South? A new project titled The Whiteness Project is one way of starting to look at the ways in which whites identify today while also being deeply concerned with the racial tensions that underline whiteness as a concept. 

All-in-all, the message of uncomfortableness is an important one. I encourage each of you to check out the film and reflect on where you personally fit into the dynamic that it sets up. I know I for one will continue to be thinking long and hard as I piece together where I fall and the ways in which I can help create the most equity. 

Imprisoned Because of a Volleyball Match

Sign the petition here. 

In June, Ghoncheh Ghavami, 25 year-old, dual Iranian and British citizen was arrested along with a dozen other women as they tried to enter a stadium to watch the Iranian national men's team play volleyball. She was subsequently placed in solitary confinement in Tehran's Evin Jail, which has a reputation for holding political prisoners and journalists. 

The Iranian government has banned women from football games since 1979 and has since extended the ban to volleyball since 2012 claiming that the government hopes to protect women from the "lewd behavior of male fans." Amnesty International has called for an Urgent Action for Ghoncheh as they believe she has been put under psychological pressure due to the multiple threats she has received by prison guards and public officials in addition to her unjust confinement. 

Due to current political relationships between the UK Government and Iran, it seems that the UK has been thus far unwilling to help her and relieve the suffering of her family. Her family is hoping that with the pressure of the global community placed upon the UK that she will be released to be with her family once more. 

As a volleyball enthusiast myself, I hope to reach out to all of those who have yet to hear Ghonchech's story. Commit yourself to being part of the community that advocates for the rights of women and make volleyball a safe place for spectators globally!

Brittany Maynard

     

Brittany Maynard

Brittany Maynard, a 29 year old, teacher, wife, and daughter that was terminally ill with cancer, chose to end her life in Portland, Oregon by utilizing the Death with Dignity Act last Saturday night. Patients that choose to utilize the Death with Dignity Act take a fatal dose of barbiturates, prescribed by their doctor, when their suffering becomes too great to bear. As a hospice volunteer and a Catholic I have heard a spectrum of arguments and opinions in which individuals try to place the Death with Dignity Act somewhere on a moral spectrum.

To me however, Brittany Maynard is a hero because of the courage she displayed while showing the world the true challenges within the death and dying process. As a hospice volunteer, I have had the experience of seeing some of the most dignified deaths. However, I have also had the challenging experience of seeing individuals pass with no friends or family members and in debilitating pain. I believe Brittany's story speaks to those dying in loneliness. Brittany hoped to bring awareness to something most of us choose to ignore each day--death.

In a perfect world, I choose to believe that patients would not choose to remedy the death and dying process with the Death with Dignity Act because they would be treated with the upmost compassion by our society, they would be dignified with a supportive hospice or palliative care rather than barbiturates, and they would be held in love by all those that surround them. However, I also recognize that the rates of individuals dying in hospitals rather than in the support of hospice care is increasing, I have seen first hand with my Papa's death and my research as an undergraduate that the restricted funding for hospice has caused hospice care workers to devote less time to patients and their families, and that the fear of death is being promoted by our societal misunderstandings of death being a scary, horrible event.

For those that have grown disgruntled with Brittany Maynard's choice, I understand the uncomfortableness that accompanies someone willing to take their own life in what many deem an "unnatural way". However, I encourage you to consider the ways in which your actions promote individuals in that situation to lack choices. Does death as a concept make you uncomfortable? Do you promote compassion and love to those living on the margins of society? Would you be willing to accompany a stranger, a friend, or a family member on the challenging and unforgiving road of death and dying. These are all questions that accompany a dignified death that excludes the use of the Death with Dignity Act. Too many people are dying in group foster homes, with no access to friends or family members, too many people are dying too early because of systemic issues that are awaiting our effort in changing.

I challenge you to consider what death looks like for Americans in 2014. Is it something you are satisfied with? I for one am not and am dedicated to changing the ways that our society views death, accompanies the dying, and creates policies that promote compassion for patients and their families. So for this reason, moral arguments aside, Brittany Maynard is a hero. She took an issue that tends to fall into a category of black or white and asked us to see the grey in-between. The Brittany Maynard Fund has fittingly been set up to support Compassion and Choices. As an advocate for compassion and with the hope that the lives of those that are in the death and dying process can be dramatically improved, I encourage you to read through her website with an open eye and heart.