my blog - Ordinary Courage

Thursday

04Dec

mama bear, mama bear, what do you see?

I see myself looking back at me.

When I'm talking to groups of parents about my research, there's always lots of laughing AND there are always three or four moments when things get very, very quiet. One of the quieter moments settles in when I talk about the power of seeing ourselves (or our partners) in our children. There is great joy in those moments, but it can also be very difficult when we see the parts of ourselves that we struggle with (or against) emerge in our children.

If we feel shame about a certain behavior or appearance issue and we catch a glimpse of it in our child, we're very vulnerable to feeling more inadequate and even shaming them about it.

If we know that we have an anger or sensitivity issue that can cause problems, we are often alarmed when we see it in our sons or daughters.

In many ways, 20+ years has turned me and Steve into one funky, hybrid person. When we first got married, I liked the "sleeping temperature" to be 68 degrees. He liked 72. Now we both like 70. For many years, we liked different TV shows, now we like the same ones. That's how it goes.

But, when it comes to our tempers, we're very different. It takes a lot to make Steve really mad, but once he's mad it can take a while before he's "normal" again. He's quick to forgive, but it takes a while to recover.

Me? I can stomp around, yell, and be really pissy, then feel great and be ready to grab a movie and some Thai food. If Steve looks at me weird, I'm always like, "What? It's over. I think you're all cute again." He really loves it when I say, "Oh, I had the rest of the fight in my head. I was right. You apologized. It's over."

If that's not bad enough, I was also raised by an attorney. I can turn an argument into a hostile witness interrogation faster than you can say, "Jack McCoy." While these are lovely traits, I'm pretty sure that both of these things drive him crazy.

I've never understood how my "anger/arguement style" could possibly be irritating. Until now. Enter Charlie. He is a sweet, loving little guy. He's very compassionate, funny, and smart as a whip. He's also 3 - year of the power struggle. Combine this age with my anger/arguement style and here you go:

Charlie: I want to drive by the fire station.

Me: Sure thing, sweet boy. We'll be there in about 10 minutes.

Charlie: Tanks. (my favorite little word pronunciation right now).

Me: Hey Charlie, please stop pushing mamma's seat with your feet.

Charlie keeps pushing, pushing, pushing and I keep asking, asking asking. I'm resisting all of the training that tempts me to say, "Don't make me pull this car over." I don't say it because what would I do with the car pulled over?

Me: Charlie, I don't want to ask you again. You need to make good choices. If you choose to keep pushing my seat, we're not going to drive by the fire station.

Charlie kicks the seat as hard as he can and giggles.

Me: Charlie, I'm sorry, but we're not going by the fire station. You aren't making good choices (my voice is raised a bit and I'm frustrated).

Charlie: You hurt my feelings!

Me: I'm sorry, but you need to think about your choices.

Charlie: You need to think about your choices. You should blow out your angry words, not use them on friends. Let's both say sorry and start over.

At this point I'm dazed and confused and questioning the entire Montessori concept.

Me: I'm not going to say "I'm sorry." I asked you to stop kicking my seat because it hurts my body when you do that.

Charlie: Momma, it's OK to say sorry. Everyone makes bad choices. You know I still love you when you're making bad choices.

I'm thinking - "Are you kidding me?"

We drive past the turn for the fire station. He screams. I drag him in the house (I'm still confused and getting increasingly tired). He screams more. Five minutes pass.

Charlie: You want to build the biggest fort in all of life?

Me: Sure. Are you ready to make good choices?

Charlie: (In an earnest voice - not being sarcastic at all) Charlie is ready. Is momma ready to make good choices now?

A couple of days later we're in the car again. This time, he's been really hard while I'm trying to get him ready and I'm super frustrated.

Charlie: Are you really angry, mama?

Me: I'm frustrated Charlie.

Charlie: Let's start over. "Hi Mama."

Me: Charlie, I need a couple of minutes of quiet time so I can blow out my angry. It's really hard to go in the car to have fun when you're not helpful getting dressed.

About 7-8 minutes passes.

Me: Charlie, I feel better. Do you want to talk about our day? I really want us to have fun.

Charlie: Nope. I'm in MY quiet time now. Please don't talk to me.

God bless Steve (and Ellen who is a lot more like Steve). Not only are there two of us now, but it kinda cracks me up (if it's not making me crazy).

Please make me feel better and tell me about all those wonderful, crazy-making things that make you think, "Oh no. It's me."

12.4.2008 | by

Brené Brown | in

Tuesday

02Dec

we must become the change

jody and brené (fall 2008)

The end of the fall semester has finally arrived. It's been a long, tough road. We just really never recovered from Hurricane Ike. The lights came back on and the streets were cleared, but the anxiety and stress lingered. It's tough for anyone to lose one month in a three-month semester, but it grueling for graduate students trying to manage their classes, their lives, and their mandatory internships.

Jody Williams and I teach a course on Global Justice every fall. In 1997, Jody won the Nobel Peace Prize for her work with The International Campaign to Ban Landmines and is now working for peace with justice through the Nobel Women's Initiative. She flies in from DC (where she lives) during the semester so we can meet with the students.

Earlier this year, I asked my students in Shame Resilience to create blogs as part of their group projects. I was blown away. We borrowed that idea and had the Global Justice students create blogs to track and report their advocacy projects. They did an amazing job - check them out!

This group put a curriculum together based the book written by Jen Lemen and Odette Umurerwa. For those of you looking for classroom projects, mother-daughter book club ideas or girl scout activities - this rocks! It offers everything from math problems that teach the concept of microlending and geography lessons to African recipes that kids make together. You can buy Jen and Odette's book here!

If you haven't seen Born into Brothels - you should. It's an amazing story of resilience and hope. This group held a campus-wide screening of the film and raised money for Kids with Cameras - an organization that believes that photography is an effective tool in igniting children's imagination and building self-esteem. This group exceeded their fund-raising goals and changed some lives. Check out their blog.

Jody and I were both "schooled on corn" by this group. Everyone has heard of the big push for using corn for a fuel source, but did you know that the implication for using corn for fuel is dangerously affecting the world food market? In fact, we learned that the corn used to fill one SUV tank with ethanol could feed an adult for 365 days!

Last, if you're looking for a way to teach peace or integrate peace and justice ideas into your parenting or teaching - this is an incredible resource. I've already send this link to several teachers and the response has been fantastic.

Here's to all of the UH GCSW students who survived Ike and Fall '08! Thanks for being the change!

12.2.2008 | by

Brené Brown |

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Wednesday

26Nov

give thanks (big and small)

Art by Ellen

My friend Laura loves this quote:

“Comparison is the thief of happiness.”

I think there’s a lot of wisdom in this, even when it comes to suffering and gratitude.

A couple of days after Hurricane Ike, Dawn called to check on us. When she asked how I was holding up, I said, “I’m good. I really can’t complain. We need to be grateful. We have our house, we didn’t get hurt – given what other folks are up against, we are really lucky.” Dawn sighed.

“Yeah. That’s great. You’re alive. NOW COMPLAIN!” I started crying. “It’s hot as shit. The house is filthy and full of mosquitoes. There’s no fresh food. They say our electricity could be out for another three weeks. I’m losing my frickin’ mind.”

I can’t tell you how much better I felt. Dawn normalized my feelings and reminded me that I was in the midst of a crisis. Don't get me wrong, I was and still am extremely grateful that we weathered Ike with very little damage. I tried to practice that gratitude every single day during the weeks following the storm. It's simply that I was also struggling and I needed to talk about that with someone. Once I processed my feelings with Dawn, it was so much easier to be truly grateful.

The next day I was still trying to sort out my feelings. Here’s what I came up with:

1. Gratitude is good. Politically correct gratitude is NOT gratitude. In fact, PC gratitude is often driven by shame and there’s nothing good about shame (I’m a terrible person because I'm complaining and my suffering is so small compared to others).

2. “Suck it up” is dangerous. There are definately times when "sucking it up" seems necessary (3am, third load of throw-up laundry, 2nd kid is coming down with a fever, and you have a huge proposal due the next day at 10am). However, in my research I found that kids who are raised with constant messaging that says, "suck it up" or "deal with it" have a really hard time talking about their feelings and asking for what they need (especially in terms of support and help).

3. The problem isn't complaining, the problem is a lack of perspective. It would have been different had I given Dawn some version of "It's so bad for me - no one gets it - I've got it worst than everyone else." That's sympathy-seeking and that sucks (see pages 51-53 in the book). We hate strongly dislike sympathy-seeking in ourselves and others. I'm talking about something different - I think the key to healthy complaining is perspective. New bumpersticker: Piss and moan with perspective - it's good for you. Complain but stay mindful of how big or small the issue really is.

4. Comparative suffering corrodes compassion and connection . It makes us judgmental and critical. Belittling our own suffering doesn't elevate the suffering of others. It throws us into a "race for the bottom." It disconnects us from the truth that we are all inextricably connected - we all have strength and we all have struggle. We all need and we all give.

I think all of this holds true for gratitude too.

Sometimes when we say grace at supper, we take turns saying, “I’m grateful for __________.” A couple of weeks ago, Ellen and Steve were both grateful for our family. When it was my turn, I said the first thing that came to my mind – “I’m so grateful for my Turbo DYMO Label Printer.”

As soon as I said it, I thought, “What’s wrong with you, Brené?” Luckily, Charlie went last and he was grateful for The Incredible Hulk. Whew.

After giving it some thought, I decided that I’m indeed grateful for my label printer. It brightens my day and makes my heart sing. It’s an obsessive-compulsive organizer’s dream machine. And, yes, I could have said, “I’m grateful that I’m not being assaulted in the Congo or living under an illegal government in Burma,” but that would have been totally disingenuous. And, I believe that the people who are truly struggling to stay alive need us to be genuinely grateful for what we have. In my work, I find that those who are paralyzed and ashamed of their privilege seem to have less compassion for themselves and others.

So, this Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for the big, life force things and the small, lovely gifts.

I’m grateful for:

1. A family health scare that turned out OK.
2. My family and friends who love me because of my imperfections, not despite them.
3. My faith.
4. Meaningful work.
5. Laughter.

I’m also really grateful for lots of wonderful, small things that make me smile and remind me that the world is full of hidden joy, that people are good, and that there are little gifts everywhere. I’m grateful for:

1. An invitation to The Bloggess’ Nintendo Wii Fit party. I completely dodged having my weight and BMI measured in public (a worst case party scenario under any circumstance) AND I had my first “swag” experience. I got my own Nintendo Wii Fit! How awesome is that?

2. Jen Lee’s Solstice: Stories of Light in the Dark - A beautiful CD of transformative stories. This would be the best holiday gift!

3. Spending last weekend alone in my house while Steve and the kids visited family and went fishing. It only took me 2 hours to acknowledge my vulnerability and manage my anxiety so I could stop visualizing a horrible car wreck (which would have been my fault because I was enjoying alone time). On Sunday, I came home from church, put on my PJs, and watched nine episodes of NCIS. Seriously.

4. This incredibly moving website (sent to me by my friend Farrah).

5. The opportunity to make a difference in the life of a family by simply pushing a button.

6. A superhero* jewelry sale here!

7. A gypsy girl photography sale here!

8. All of you who keep me honest by reading the blog and sharing your vulnerabilities and wisdom!

Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your “label maker?” I’d love to know what small gadget or TV show or indulgence or piece of jewelry or song or _________________________ makes you grateful?

11.26.2008 | by

Brené Brown | in

Thursday

20Nov

family+friends+farm = love (texas style)

I can't think of a better way to celebrate the end of a hectic fall schedule than to spend the day at Katherine Center's family farm. This past Saturday was a spectacular fall day and we were surrounded by family, friends, and fresh air! Blog readers might remember Katherine as my very first inspiration interview! She'll be back on the blog in February when her new book, "Everyone is Beautiful" launches!

In addition to Katherine and her lovely family, we got to hang out with Kirtsy's own Laura Mayes (and adorable son), Jenny "the bloggess" (and her awesome husband and daughter). And Shelley, Katherine's great sister, also joined the fun her precious daughter.

I made a little video to share with you on this Love Thursday! Music by k.d. lang from the Home on the Range soundtrack.