I AM WOMAN

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me.

I am a free human being with an independent will."

- Charlotte Bronte, "Jane Eyre"

       I had a teacher in college that whenever talking about feminism, he would always say, "I AM WOMAN," in a deep voice, proclaiming in his own way, the strength of the woman. I would always laugh and think, well real ladies would never use a deep manly voice. She would use her dainty, lady voice and say, "Well yes, sir, I do appear to be a bit stronger than you." Today, on my adventure with my best friend, I could not stop thinking about Mr. Mooney saying, "I AM WOMAN." In fact, I may have even said it a few times myself. If there's anything that feels mighty liberating as a woman, it's being able to lift two kayaks out of the water and into a truck that I just backed down the ramp. Say what? Yes, I did that.

     I've been reading a book titled, "Rose Under Fire." This book is a companion book to another book I just finished, "Code Name Verity." Both are written by Elizabeth Wein and both are historical fiction. Now, a little bit of a back story for you before I continue. As a kid, I always loved reading historical fiction books, especially books that showcased young women as the main character. I don't know if you ever heard of the Dear America series, but I thrived on those. Each were a diary form book written by a young girl during a historical time period. Now, flash forward to present day me searching in the book store for a casual Young Adult Literature book to read on vacation. As Sister Marcille taught me, I went after the book that had the Printz Award label on the front. Turns out, it was a historical fiction book. I knew I would love it, so I bought the companion book, too. I just started the second book Thursday...I'm almost done. 

     When I first picked up the books, I thought, oh good, another historical fiction during the WWII time era; one I personally love studying. As I got started, however, I realized I was reading about quite a few hipster ladies. By that, I mean, young women who were breaking stereotypes left and right by doing amazing things. One was a Special Orders Pilot...imagine, a woman pilot, especially during that time period. Of course, her best friend was a spy and interrogator. I fell in love with the characters who not only stayed true to the characterization of women at the time, but also were insanely feminist and willing to go above and beyond what women normally did. The second book also features a female pilot and describes at length the women concentration camp that still to this day doesn't have too much written about it. It describes in insane detail the strength of thousands of women. I felt as if these women were my comrades, my fellow strong women. Of course, there was one scene that struck me in particular that I felt extremely connected with. 

     The scene takes place toward the beginning of the story when Rose, the female pilot, gets trapped between two German fighter planes. She eventually is requested to follow the fighter planes to a German airfield; she has become a POW in the air. When she lands the plane and is asked to remove herself from the aircraft, she steps out of the pilots seat, but still has her helmet on. They order her to take her helmet off and a stream of curly brown hair falls out from underneath. The men's mouths gape open and suddenly they are saluting her and clapping for her; she fielded an excellent landing. Of course, there is much irony in this scene. The young woman, first of all is a POW and an American one at that. These mean saluting her were German airmen. At first I thought, well good for her to get such a response to landing that plane. But then I thought, if it had been a man pilot, they wouldn't have done that. What made her landing so special other than the fact that she was a woman pilot?! Nothing. As absurd as it was, the scene struck accord with me.

      You see, so often I am mistaken for a weak person. People always offer to help me carry things and stuff like that. Sometimes I think it's because I am little; a whopping five foot. But other times, I think it's probably because I am a woman. Today, like I said before, my best friend and I went kayaking in the river. Imagine the scene: two young women riding high in a Ford pick-up truck with two kayaks in the bed. First of all, a little lady is driving the truck. Second of all, she's going to have to get those kayaks out of the back of the truck. As I pulled into the parking lot, I could already see the crowd of men staring at me. Yes, boys, I had just hopped out of the cab of this truck. Now, look away. I knew they were anxiously waiting to see how I would approach getting the kayaks out of the bed of the truck. Shocking to admit, but I did it with no problem. Of course, my best friend was there to get her kayak out of the bed of the truck, too. What a sight to behold, two ladies carrying kayaks down the river. 

     I started to laugh at the absurdity. I really didn't think it was that big of a deal that we had just done that. However, the end of the craziness was no where in sight. As we were pulling the kayaks down the river to put in a bit further away from all the mud, an older gentleman stopped us. He asked if I had ever put in there before. I answered yes. He then told me that I should be careful because the tide was changing soon. Shocking, but I knew this to be true. Of course, he mentioned a few more river facts, all of which I knew. And as I nodded my head, he seemed to get more and more shocked. I wasn't sure why actually, but later it hit me. I'm a lady. He was a kind man, but he definitely thought we had no idea what we were doing. I thanked him for his conversation and we were on our merry way. 

     We enjoyed a paddle down stream and soon decided to head back. There were a lot of boats and jetskis out enjoying the Summer's last hoorah and so we often had to stop and change direction so we didn't tip. As we headed back, the river current got rougher and rougher and it was getting harder and harder to paddle back. Going against the current is the worst BUT it does build muscle mass. It was difficult but we continued. Suddenly, Mary Kate noticed some "fog" up ahead. Ironically, however, it wasn't fog, it was a downpour. We paddled for cover (because the last thing you want is a kayak filled with rain water) and took refuge under some kind peoples' dock. We made a video and then decided to head back out. We were only about half a mile away from where we put in. 

     The rain ceased as we paddled and the river current was much calmer, thus, easier for us to paddle. The boat ramp was in sight and the tide was coming in, so there would be much less mud to plow through. Of course, as we neared the boat ramp, another downpour. We laughed and this time, kept going. We were so close. We decided to take pictures, too, when we landed, because it was, after all, a monumental moment. There was one guy fishing who was enjoying the moment by laughing at us, but that soon changed when we hauled the kayaks up the ramp a bit. You see, it appeared that I was going to leave them there. But that was not the case. 

     I ran, still in the rain, to the truck, hopped up in the cab and reversed so I could turn around. Then I backed the truck down the ramp so that the two of use could swing the kayaks in the back and head home. We actually gained the attention of many as we did this quickly and efficiently. I smiled and laughed. As we drove home, I said, "Nothing is more liberating to me than being able to do things that people think women can't do...like handle her own kayak and drive a truck." My best friend just laughed.

     I am a feminist and often, I find it hilarious that women are always underestimated. Yes, I believe that there is such a feministic beauty in being genuine, caring, motherly, gentle. Those are the characteristics that make me a woman. But what also makes me a woman is my strength, both emotional and physical. To put things in perspective...my kayak weighs about 60 pounds. That's about the size of a toddler. Both of these facts enhances my feminism. As a woman, I may be expected to take care of children, babies and toddlers. I may be expected to pick them up and coo over them. Don't get me wrong, I loooooooove doing that. I love children and child-rearing is an amazing beauty all in it's own. But, if my toddler weighs 60 pounds, then why, when I pick up a kayak weighing about the same, is it a shock to everyone around. People, get a grip, I want to say. I don't, of course, because I'm a lady. I simply smile and behind my smile, I say, "Now, let me see you do that."

     I felt proud to be a lady today. Every day, I proud to be a woman, but today I felt especially proud. It wasn't that I already knew the things that our older man friend was telling us about the river. No, it wasn't because my Daddy had already taught me these things. And it wasn't that I got to drive Daddy's truck either (seriously...I NEED one of my own though). I learned to drive in that monster, so that was just taking the truck for a spin. And it actually wasn't the fact that my best friend and I paddled against the current in the pouring rain. That was just fun. What made me super proud was that all those strong men who were shocked when a lady hopped out of the cab of a pick-up truck and watched me as I lifted the kayaks out of the bed with ease, didn't offer an ounce of help. Now while that might make a few people upset (how dare they not help a damsel in distress), I enjoyed it. Why? Because they watched, they were shocked and they didn't offer help, because they knew I could do it. 

     I'm not always a radical feminist, but when I am, I lift kayaks out of trucks and paddle against the current in the pouring rain. Now I can't wait to see people's reactions when I do that as a nun. In the words of Mr. Mooney, "I AM WOMAN."

Today, I Will Be Confident

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by

every experience in which you really stop to look

fear in the face. You must do the thing you think 

you cannot do."

- Eleanor Roosevelt

     Confidence. According to Webster's Online Dictionary, confidence is a feeling of self-assurance arising from one's appreciation of one's own abilities or qualities. I found this very interesting. According to this definition, in order for us to be confident, we need to appreciate our own abilities and qualities. That sounds pretty easy. But I think the hard part comes when we find it difficult to even name abilities or good qualities. 

     Yesterday on Facebook, I posted a status saying: Today, I will be confident. Right away, the like notifications came filing in. Before I knew it, a few people were leaving comments. One of my friends wrote, "aren't you always confident?" Another friend wrote, "I have this written on my computer everyday...Today, I will find a way." Someone even wrote, "You should be every day." I smiled at the comments and at the likes, but my confidence wasn't given a boost by any of them. No, my self-worth isn't determined by what social media has to say about me. But there was something in me that started to grow when I realized, that yeah, I should be confident everyday.

      On Monday, I had my first interview for a teaching position. I always hate the question, "so what are you strengths and abilities?" I always stutter and find it very hard to list strengths and abilities. Of course, given a few days, I could maybe write a few down for you, but it's hard to come up with something on the spot. So I listed a few things like possessing gentle patience, being able to connect with all people, and my faith. The next question, I should have seen coming: "What is something you find you might need to work on in the classroom?" I sat for a few seconds and said it, "Confidence." The Sisters looked at me with such a confused look, so I started to explain.

     I broke the cardinal rule of interviewing, I told them how nervous I was sitting there in front of them, people I've known for quite a few years now. I told them that my biggest struggle during student teaching was that I couldn't believe I'd actually make a good teacher. I was afraid my students wouldn't learn anything. I was afraid that I'd make them hate literature more than they already did instead of fall in love with it. I told them that at the end of the semester, however, my students told me that they had learned so much more in my few months of teaching than they had before. And that even last week when I saw a few of them, they were rattling off characters from The Canterbury Tales with no difficulty. I told the Sisters that the moment I get in front of the students, my nervousness disappears, but that doesn't mean I question everything the night before a new lesson. Confidence, I told them, was my weakest link. 

     After I explained, the two of the Sisters mentioned that they never would have known that at that moment, I was shaking in my boots. I assured them that I hide it well. It was a response I was used to; no one ever thinks that extroverted me is ever lacking in confidence. Go back to my own friend's comment on my status, "Aren't you always confident?" I wish I could agree. 

      Last week, I was blessed to be a part of a Kairos retreat for the school where i did my student teaching. I had never been a Kairos leader before but I had led numerous other retreats. I was, as expected, nervous as all get out. But I think my excitement covered my nervousness, because even I didn't realize how nervous I was until I got there. Be yourself, I said, just be yourself. Now, because I can't give away any of the miracles of Kairos (because I want you all the experience it for yourself), I'm only going to tell a part of the story. I brought with me a mirror. It was a little 8.5 by 11 thing and on it had written, "You are worth it, you are beautiful, you are LOVED." It was something I kept telling my group over and over all week. The mirror, however, didn't make it's debut until Thursday. I pulled out the mirror as I was telling the entire group about my confidence struggle. I told them, in brief, how many mornings I need to remind myself that someone, somewhere loves me. I told them how sometimes it's hard to believe my own words. I told them a little bit more and I could see faces of shock, but also faces of girls that felt the same. Confidence isn't just my struggle, it's the struggle of many young women and young men. Confidence is the struggle of anyone, at any age, of any gender. 

      Lack of confidence can come in an array of things. Some struggle with physical looks: they don't feel beautiful, they don't feel masculine enough, they feel over-weight, they feel skinny, they don't like the shape of their bodies, etc. It goes on and on about physical attributes. We are constantly finding something about our bodies that we simply do not like. For others, a lack of confidence might come in the form of not feeling that they can be good at anything. It is easier to list a bunch of "can'ts" instead of "cans." Sometimes people even feel like they might be judged for who they are so they pretend to be someone else. They hide their laugh because they think it's too obnoxious, they don't open their mouths for fear that what they might say would be considered dumb, they don't do what the love because they feel like they aren't good at it. I've been there. I know. But then there's my Sister. 

     I think older siblings always have the stereotype that they must be a good role model and have their younger siblings look up to them. I'm not saying I'm not the best role model, but what I'm saying is that my little sisters have no idea how much I actually look up to them. My Sister, Mary, is someone who I think is so full of confidence, that sometimes I wish I could ask her to give me some of her confidence. When I look at her, I see someone who isn't afraid to speak her mind; she just doesn't have a filter (although sometimes, I wish she did...). She says whatever she wants, whenever she wants and doesn't care who might judge her for it. She also doesn't care what anyone thinks about her wearing a two beach bathing suit to the beach. She's confident in her own body image. She doesn't hide her extremely obnoxious laugh (which I have...and is actually a family trait). I will also embarrass her here and say that belching in public does not phase her...why can't ladies belch?! She's someone I've watched get up on a stage a plethora of times and belt out any song she wanted. She would sing with such confidence that I was sure she was going to blow the crowd away. She had enough confidence to say to my family that she didn't want to follow in my foot steps and go to the same high school as me. She doesn't know how much I applaud her for that. She has enough confidence to flirt with the boy she likes without fear that it might not be returned (of course, she does hope it's mutual). She has enough confidence to be her crazy self wherever she is because she's not afraid of others being judgmental. For all of this and so much more, I admire and look up to my little Sister. And sometimes when I am feeling self-conscious, I look at my beautiful Sister and remember that it's possible to be confident.

     So yesterday, I posted my status saying, "Today, I will be confident." I posted it after I took a selfie with my sisters in the car waiting for Julia and Madi. I looked at both of my little Sisters, but especially Mary and thought, if she can be confident, I can be confident. If she can feel beautiful, I can feel beautiful. She is beautiful (and we are related). I can be beautiful, too. I just have to believe it about myself just like she does. So, yesterday I was confident. I followed my Sister's example and let myself be beautiful. Today, I will be confident again. 

 

Breaking Down Stereotypes - Anywhere With You

"I'll go anywhere.

I travel light and my bags are packed.

Just as long as I'm where you're at, 

I'm gonna have a real good view. 

I'll go anywhere, anywhere with you."

- "Anywhere With You," Jake Owens

    Imagine: You're a freshmen in high school and you find out your Theology teacher is a nun. Go figure. You're not only new at school, but you still have this idea that nuns are going to kick your butt. You sit silently as the young nun in front of you tries to start prayers. This woman in front of you is a ball of mystery and you're intrigued. 

    It's not that hard for many of you to imagine. Perhaps you were a few years younger and in grade school when the nuns taught you. Maybe you were a little but more terrified because the nuns were stereo-typically  harsh and cruel to any bad students. Maybe you never spoke in class because nothing you could possibly say would have been right. Many of you reading this have had a sister in the classroom at some point in your life and so, going back to those moments isn't hard. 

    Now imagine: Sister is trying to start the YouTube video for prayers when suddenly there's a knock on the classroom door. You have no idea who these two young women are, except one appears familiar to you. Sister stops what she is doing, throws her hands in the air and almost picks up the taller of the two, the one who seems familiar. After a few seconds of joyful conversation, Sister goes back to prayer. The two strangers stand there, heads bowed in prayer. You try so hard to pay attention, but you can't stop thinking about where you've seen the one young woman before. After prayers, the two quietly tell Sister they have to leave but before the walk out, Sister mentions something about having a movie date again soon. Then the familiar girl laughs, asks Sister if she wants to go Ice Skating later that night and you remember where you saw her: the other night at dinner...out with another sister. 

     Your first reactions? Nuns go ice skating? Nuns leave the convent? Nuns have friends? Who is this girl? Why does she hang out with nuns all the time? Is she serious? She's not a nun but...maybe? Ironically, as I was leaving the classroom atmosphere I just described (yes, I was that girl who interrupted class), I heard the class begin to whisper all of these questions. I had to laugh at the girls and my sister, who was with me, casually said, "Don't they know she's a cool nun?" 

     Often, I forget that it's a little "abnormal" to hang out with nuns so much. I forget that walks in fly helicopters, or drives across the city, or invitations to go ice skating is normal until nuns are involved. Most people are shocked when they see sisters or priests out in public, but why? I simply giggle and move on. Yes, we often get questioning glances, or even sometimes we meet extremely brave people who ask the questions everyone else is thinking. I watch as my sisters shrug, smile and answer the questions. It doesn't bother them....it doesn't bother me. My sisters are just as real as you and me. And I guess that's why I really often forget that it's "abnormal." Oh well...

      Yesterday, I partook in my own personal "Convent Run." I started with interrupting classes at Nazareth with my real life, blood sister, then I ran to visit Sister Phyllis, then after having been in my house no less than a half hour, I was out the door again to visit with my lifelong cheerleader at Santucci's and then finally a night of feeling old and out of shape at the skate rink with my partner in crime. Each time I walked out the door, my mother asked me where I was going. My answer? The convent, Mom. Don't worry, I'm with the nuns. It's a common joke in my family that while most people think when a person is hanging out with the Sisters, there would be no trouble. But when Becca hangs out with the Sisters, there is always trouble. 

      I was already thanking God for the amount of blessings He was giving me before I left Nazareth. Little did I know, He would continue to shower me with blessings. Not knowing it at the time, I wound up spending a good few hours chatting it up with Sister Phyllis and ironically most of it was about my girl Katie D, better known to the world as St. Katharine Drexel. As we were chatting, I could feel nothing but blessings from the good Lord above. I am so spoiled, I decided. God is so good. The adventure continued when while I was with Sister Phyllis, Sister Virginia called me. Of course, as usual, she didn't answer when I called back. We're like little kids in the sense that we love to play tag....phone tag that is. 

      But finally, we connected. I told her that I had a few hours before my ice skating adventure and so, within minutes after hanging up the phone, I was in the car headed to her convent. The thing about friends, I have learned, is that if they are true friends, you could go months without seeing them or talking with them and you pick right up where you left off. The last time I had seen Sister Virginia, we were sitting in a corner booth in a restaurant in the middle of August. Cheerleaders, as you know, are there to cheer on their players when they play well AND when their morale is down. She is my cheerleader through and through. This particular time, I was at the verge of tears in that corner booth. I told her how scared I was, how doubtful, how unsure I was about what God wanted me to do with me life. She took my hands and said, "No matter what, I'll always been your number one cheerleader. Whether that means letting you go or welcoming you home, I'll be here for you. Don't ever forget that." And I carried what she said with me through the year. Despite never being able to connect over the phone or email, I knew she was praying for me. And I knew that I had to try all I could to see her before I went back to school. So, we once again found ourselves at a corner booth (this time at the high top tables...oh boy.) and sharing our thoughts. 

      I never gave a second thought to the fact that there I was, sitting in Santucci's with a Sister. We were enjoying pizza and water on a Lenten Friday at a high top table. This time, instead of tears of desperation, I was crying tears of joy and laughter. I was laughing so hard that literal tears were streaming down my face. I was telling her tale after tale of all my adventures. Finally, I told her that God has given me such peace, that I am happy, that I know where God wants me. Once again, just like last time, she took my hands and thanked God with me. There was no question about praying in public, we simply just did it. For me, this was normal, something that brought joy to my heart and truly gave me a vision of future me. Arm in arm we left, laughing and giggling like the two sisters we are. 

      Within minutes of departing from my dear-hearted, Sister, I was headed down the road to pick up my partner in crime, Sister Mary Anthony so we could join my family ice skating. When we arrived on the ice, arm in arm (it's a running theme...) my sisters, my dad and my sister's friends skated over to us absolutely overjoyed. I said to the girls, "I hope you don't mind that I brought my friend with me...do you?" We all laughed. My family, by now is so used to hanging out with the sisters at family functions. There is a beautiful mutual love that makes me feel like I am home. We skated for a straight two hours and I couldn't help but laugh as the Older Staff Member kept following us around the rink. At first, I didn't think anything of it. But then I thought, oh maybe Sister's veil or skirt is a rink violation, because she wore her habit, you know. Later though, we realized that he was merely intrigued that Sister was out Ice Skating. Of course, a few other random rink kids were also very intrigued. My family and I merely skated. 

      While Sister and I were skating around, I thanked her for being a visible sign for me. I told her that long ago, when I first felt called to this vocation, I had planned on wearing my habit everywhere. It came about when my extended family asked me if I would wear my habit when I was at home at family parties. Without hesitation, I told them that of course I would! Of course, all my uncles asked about the kids who would probably get my habit dirty and various other scenarios since my cousins love me to death and I always wind up dirtier than they do. What's a habit without a little wear and tear? There's nothing a little Tide can't fix! The habit, for me, symbolizes deep simplicity. There are no frills and thrills about a habit. There's no tight waist line or low scoop neck; there's nothing fashionable about it. Yet, I love it. And just like my dear Sr. Mary Anthony, I would wear my habit in the snow, on the ice, on the service sight, basically anywhere. 

      One thing I really didn't realize until now is that her being a visible witness to religious life last night really helped break down some stereotypes. Does anyone know a nun who goes ice skating? Now you do! When my sisters agree to going out with me, whether it's out for Chinese, out for Pizza, out to the Zoo or Ice Skating, they give me hope. They, without knowing it, are helping me help them break down these stereotypes of religious life. My Sisters are real people just like me and you. They are made out of the same flesh and blood (to quote Sister David...) as you and I. These Sisters do so much just as normal people and you can all count on the fact that I will follow their footsteps. Life is a constant adventure and journey of questions and answers, and I hope that because I'll go anywhere, as long as I'm with Him, my friends, family and so many others can begin to have a clearer view of this beautiful, religious life. Amen? Amen!