Anne the Vegan

Moms For Liberty is Not a Beacon Of Educational Leadership

So why are school systems relying on their guidance for developing curriculum and educational resources?

I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle, for the evolution from a democracy to a theocracy seems to be accelerating at an alarming pace.

My county decided to give the school board unilateral authority over the “deselection” (read: banning) of books from our public school libraries.

In the August school board meeting, the board decided to force a group of librarians to review book titles recommended for “deselection” by Moms for Liberty, using a resource that this same organization authored called BookLooks.

Ugh. This school board. Of course, I had some things to say about this:

Dear School Board:

Why are you taking direction from Moms for Liberty in determining curriculum and available literature for HCPS students?

This group is a religious organization and an extremist group, not a beacon of educational leadership.

You already have educators with advanced degrees employed by HCPS. They are your librarians. To ask them to “review” books based on a book review service penned by Moms for Liberty is an egregious turn of events and goes against the very policy about book reviewing you put in place in June.

Eliminating every book on the list that Moms for Liberty has provided on their website will gravely affect programs like Advanced Placement, International Baccalaureate, and Dual Enrollment, all from which my now young adults benefitted.

Religion has no role in educating our children in a public school system.

I always feared that theocracy would trickle down from the top layers of government, and to some extent it has. But the bigger danger is that it’s percolating up from the bottom, with religious groups infiltrating our local governments like sewage from a bad septic tank. As a recovering Christian and survivor of religious trauma, I know firsthand that Christianity does not always equate with morality.

Our Founding Fathers intended for there to be a separation of Church and State, and allowing groups like Alliance Defending Freedom and Moms for Liberty to influence your decisions goes against their beliefs. We are not a Christian nation. Christianity has no business in our schools.

“Be it enacted by the General Assembly, that no man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, place, or ministry whatsoever, nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burthened in his body or goods, nor shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinion in matters of religion, and that the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities.”

Thomas Jefferson, Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom

Please remember Thomas Jefferson’s words when considering the voices that influence your decisions moving forward. And stop listening without your ears to the educated voices in your midst, many of whom you have hired.

Of course, I will get a generic response back from the board member from my district, insisting that their way is right.

For reference, Alliance Defending Freedom is another extremist organization that advised our school board in writing their dreadful transgender bathroom policy.

I did not speak at the August school board meeting. I was a little burned out. But I will keep writing emails and keep showing up.

I was a part of the effort to get a referendum on the ballot in November to allow our citizens to vote about having an elected school board. I don’t know if it will be any better than the system we have of appointing them as we do now, but I have hope that choosing will improve the makeup of our board.

Again, I’m forever grateful that my kids are now out of this system and both in college. But I have to keep fighting with my friends who are still dealing with this system.

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Is this same script being dealt to your school district? Are you doing anything to fight back? I’d love to hear about it!

Lead photo is my original art.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

My Babies Have Fledged

I’m officially an empty nester

It’s Monday night. The house is quiet. It is clean. And there is a remarkable absence of an abundance of stuff. But it’s also lonely.

My babies have officially left the nest. Even the dog and cat have noticed and are extra clingy today.

They say that raising children is like teaching them how to ride a bike and letting go over and over and over again. That’s a great analogy.

I can hope that I’ve laid a good foundation of life and how to manage it, but I still want to hover over their lives and make sure everything will be ok, even though I know I can’t. I have practice with my older daughter, of course, as she is a senior this year. But my baby? Sigh. I still remember changing her diapers. How is she possibly an adult already?

I’m not anxious for my kids. My older one knows the routine, and it’s great that she will help my younger one adjust. And since I went to Longwood, I know what kind of experience they are having.

This weekend was all about starting their school years. We moved my older daughter into her apartment on Saturday, returned home, and traveled back to Longwood on Sunday to move in my younger daughter. That’s a lot of time driving. And moving stuff.

Saturday was more challenging than Sunday. It’s more stuff for an apartment than for just a dorm room. And Sunday we had help from some of the upperclassmen. That was great!

It was also two lunches out, two giant trips to Walmart, and a couple of tanks of gas. Yikes. My wallet may never recover.

As I walked the campus of my alma mater on Sunday alone, it truly hit me that the journey on which I am about to embark will be a bit lonely.

Of course, my wonderful husband will keep me company, but I will miss my kids. True, they aren’t kids anymore. They are officially adults. But they will forever be my babies.

It was strange to walk on Longwood’s campus by myself because so much has changed since I went to school there. Gone are the roads through the middle of campus. They have been replaced with grass, sidewalk, and gardens, all to make the campus more walkable and safer. I love it.

It will definitely be quieter. And there won’t be any boyfriends over for a while. And the house will stay cleaner. And meals will be simpler.

I’m already counting the days until they come home.

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Are you an empty nester, too? How did you manage? I’d love to hear your stories.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Simone Biles is Back!

And maybe even stronger than ever

There’s no question that Simone Biles is the greatest gymnast of all time. And as tricky a sport as gymnastics is, one could argue that she is the greatest athlete of all time.

As a former gymnast, I will forever be a fan of this beautiful and very dangerous sport. I still have the motor plans for all of my tumbling skills stored in my brain and even dream about doing a floor exercise routine occasionally. My middle-aged body is no longer capable of performing these maneuvers, of course, but my brain thinks it can!

So many people criticized Simone after the Tokyo Olympics, but perhaps those critics don’t understand the very real possibility that Simone could have been seriously injured had she tried to compete while suffering from “the twisties,” that dreaded disconnect between brain and body.

To see someone of her caliber succumb to the mental challenges of the sport and the pressures of performing at such a high level was surprising, and it made me realize that everyone struggles from time to time. We should all be proud of the way she handled her situation.

Not only was she dealing with the pressure of the Olympics and the expectation that she would take home multiple gold medals, but she was also preparing to testify about Larry Nassar, the now infamous former US gymnastics team doctor who was convicted of molesting multiple gymnasts.

As a survivor of sexual assault myself, I can understand the manifestation of trauma in the most inopportune ways. You can’t control when your brain reacts to your past abuse.

Obviously, we were all disappointed that we didn’t see her fully compete in Tokyo, but she did the right thing. And think about the opportunities she created for her teammates. To see how well Team USA performed even without her speaks volumes about the depth of USA gymnastics.

The saddest part for me was not knowing if we would ever see her compete again. But clearly, she has something to prove, if not to her fans and naysayers, but to herself.

She competed at the US Classics this weekend and absolutely dominated, scoring 59.1 overall points in the all-around, a full five points over second place.

Her win is a victory for every survivor of sexual assault, including me. If she can work through her trauma, so can I.

Simone had the courage to discuss and defend her mental health; to set boundaries on what we can expect from athletes. In doing so, she has not only reset the bar in athletic performance, but she has also set a positive example for everyone to follow. She has reminded us that even those we think are invincible are human.

She is setting a positive example for everyone to follow, not just athletes. In admitting that she not only needs, but seeks help for her emotional wellbeing, she is making it socially acceptable to do so. She is helping to remove the stigma from mental healthcare.

I loved every moment of watching her compete, and I can’t wait to see what she does leading up to the 2024 Olympics in Paris! Simone, I’m cheering for you.

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Did you watch the U.S. Classic event last weekend? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Double the Joy

Working with a healthcare team to improve emotional health

I started working with a new therapist this week.

Even putting that phrase on the screen seems weird. I still feel like I shouldn’t need this. I no longer feel like I don’t deserve help, but admitting that I need it is another story.

I’m extremely grateful for the few months of reprieve from intrusive thoughts, insufferable anxiety, and bouts of depression which have plagued me for most of my life. I have Prozac to thank for that. And I didn’t know how bad it really was.

Admittedly, the honeymoon phase with this drug is over, as I can feel myself settling into old ways of thinking, and I don’t like it. I kind of like the new me. My therapist suggested that I ask my prescribing provider to up the dose. It’s humbling, again, to feel like I need that.

As I gave pieces of my elevator speech to her, as I’ve now practiced telling my story several times, I appreciated the looks of shock she gave me. You see, sometimes those who are abused start to gaslight themselves into thinking that what they experienced couldn’t have been that bad. But hearing yourself tell it out loud, and then hearing someone’s reaction to hearing your story for the first time helps you regain perspective.

Most of my experiences with therapists thus far have been more for venting than anything else. I’ve never been given tools to help deal with the mess of my life. I’m hoping this therapist will.

But I’m already feeling guilty for the money this therapy will cost me, and more importantly, my family. I should send bills to my attempted rapist and my former youth minister. That seems fair. I’ll cover the generic Prozac if you pay for the rest. If only it worked that way.

Maybe this is as happy as I will ever get. This is a far better life than pre-Prozac, but I’m hoping it gets even better.

I’m not super excited that I have to rely on medicine to balance my anxiety and depression. But with as challenging as our world is right now, I also wonder how anyone survives without a little help.

So often we self-medicate. Alcohol is a popular drug of choice, and it’s legal and easily accessible. Other drugs aren’t difficult to obtain if you look hard enough, although I’ve never gone down this path myself.

Exercise has also been a popular and healthier alternative outlet for anxiety. I’ve obviously used this, too, as my running resume will back up: ten marathons and one ultramarathon.

I reached the point on this medication that exercise once again isn’t enough. And so now that I’m on double the dose, I have finally started to perk up a bit. I went for my first mid-week run since June this week. It felt good to take time to take care of my body.

Maybe part of my newfound funk is because I miss England. That’s the thing about great experiences. You simply want more.

It’s been over a month since I’ve been back in the US, but I feel inexplicably tied to England. I felt such a sense of peace and pure joy there. It’s the first time I’ve ever experienced feelings like that.

Why did I feel this? Was it simply the joy of a new experience? Was it realizing a dream that I thought would never come true?

Even though I’m beginning to feel better on the higher medication dose, I feel a bit defeated. It’s like a sign of weakness to need more. But I also know that it helps, and everyone deserves to be treated for their ailments. We shouldn’t stigmatize seeking help with our emotional health.

Here are the questions I keep asking myself: is the joy I feel real, or is it just the medicine? Or does the reason even matter anymore?

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If you struggle with your emotional health, I hope you have the courage to seek help. I’m really glad I finally did.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

The Mixed Emotions of My Miscarriage

And the injustice of the loss of bodily autonomy

I have two babies. My husband and I carefully planned each one, and I took good care of my body while we were trying to conceive. My family felt complete as a party of four: my husband, our two daughters, and me.

My husband wished for one more.

When our second daughter was 5 months old, it seemed that my husband’s wish had been granted.

With my body still not quite fully recovered from growing and giving birth to my newborn, and still using my body to nourish her by breastfeeding, I missed a cycle.

Given that I was on what they call the mini pill, it was not entirely out of the question that this form of birth control would fail. I just wasn’t prepared to see that stripe pop up indicating a positive pregnancy test. I was convinced that the results were incorrect, so I tried a second test. Also positive.

The craziest part of this was that it took us over a year to conceive our second daughter. I had actually made an appointment to begin the infertility diagnostic process and then had to change it to a prenatal visit! To seemingly conceive so easily felt unreal.

The shock from this revelation was overwhelming. My second pregnancy was hard, and I wasn’t sure if my body could endure it again. But I settled into the idea and gradually began to dream of what this new baby would mean for my family.

I wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. I tried to configure where the kids would sleep once the baby arrived, as we had the girls sharing a room at the time.

I’m sure my husband was already imagining playing ball with the little boy he always wanted. Not that he didn’t love his girls, he just wanted that third chance to make a boy.

And as a parenting team, we were already contemplating which car we would trade for that dreaded minivan.

I made my first prenatal appointment with my OB-GYN. It did not go well.

First, they warned me that I would have to stop breastfeeding. I could not carry a pregnancy and nurse my then 6-month-old daughter. I was not excited to switch her to formula, especially since she wouldn’t even drink pumped milk. She was my kid who would never accept an artificial nipple of any kind, including pacifiers.

Well, not only did their pregnancy test come up negative, they were questioning if I was certain that I had actually had a positive home test. I felt like I was being gaslit.

They sent me home feeling stupid and as though I had created the pregnancy in my own mind.

But later that weekend, I started cramping severely and bleeding heavily. I was having a miscarriage. There was no question about it. It was a miserably painful and disgusting couple of days, mostly lying on my bathroom floor.

I did this alone. I never called the doctor because I did not want to feel stupid all over again. I just assumed that my body would take care of it.

I really wish my doctor had taken me seriously and maybe would have warned me about what might happen, that miscarriage was likely beginning. It would have been nice to know what to expect and to look out for.

The real cruelty was that just as I was getting used to the idea of welcoming another addition into our family, it was gone.

And even though I felt this heartbreak, I also felt a massive sense of relief. And I felt a bit guilty about that.

Now, my over-30 body wouldn’t have to struggle to grow another baby again. I could continue to breastfeed my daughter. I would bypass the turmoil of postpartum depression. The dreaded minivan would not be needed. And my life as I knew it carried on despite this hiccup.

I’m really glad this happened early on. I can’t imagine the devastation of carrying a life that you can feel moving and know that it will not survive. I can’t imagine not having a choice to terminate if that were the case.

To know that now, in 2023, a woman doesn’t have the right to make decisions about her own body in the United States is frightening. My husband would dismiss my disgust with this because this is still a right in our state. But what if it weren’t?

Infant and maternal mortality are on the rise in this country and are the highest in all developed countries in the world.

In the year since Roe vs. Wade was overturned, states with strict abortion laws have seen infant mortality increase, up by 11.5% in Texas in 2022, and maternal mortality increased overall in 2020, the last data I could find. These rates are significantly worse for Black mothers and babies.

We have to change the narrative about maternal healthcare in this country. Explicit bias impacts the care we receive as women, and it’s even worse for Black women. Even I, as a white woman who also happens to be a healthcare provider, was not taken seriously by my female doctor. And what’s pro-life about risking the lives of women for the sake of a non-viable fetus? What’s pro-life about not providing affordable healthcare? What’s pro-life about not allowing women the time and financial support to bond with their new families?

Make it make sense to me.

And here’s another kicker: homicide is the leading cause of death in pregnant women in the United States.

Women deserve so much better. Be a part of the solution, not the problem.

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Does anything you’ve read here surprise you? Are you mad yet? Since abortion is now a state issue, please contact your state delegates and tell them how you feel. Contact your US Congressmen and Senators and ask them to codify Roe vs. Wade. If they don’t know we care, they won’t do anything about it.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Vegan Puttanesca Sauce

A flavorful addition to your pasta

Oh, how I love pasta. Almost as much as I love all things briney. Olives, pickles, capers… give me all the brine. And combined with the relative sweetness of tomatoes and the kick of fresh garlic, banana peppers, and red pepper flakes, you have a richly flavorful sauce.

A local Italian restaurant has this sauce on their menu, my first introduction to this lovely accompaniment to pasta, and they have made this vegan for me before. (Traditional puttanesca sauce has anchovies). But it seems so simple to make that I began experimenting at home.

My husband has requested that this join our regular rotation of meals, it’s so good. And he’s an omnivore!

Here is my final rendition:

Ingredients:

Olive oil
1 sweet onion, cut in half, in half again, and sliced thin
3 cloves garlic, grated or pressed (fresh is best in this recipe)
3 large banana peppers, sliced
1/4 cup capers with brine
1/3 cup sliced kalamata olives
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
Splash of white wine
2 T tomato paste
1, 28oz. can crushed tomatoes

Directions:

Warm a large skillet over medium heat. Add a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and warm until fragrant. Add onions, salt to taste, and cook until translucent. Add grated garlic and cook for an additional minute. Add banana peppers and cook until onions begin to brown. Add a splash of white wine to deglaze the pan. Add tomato paste and stir. Add crushed tomatoes and stir. Turn the heat down to low and simmer for at least 20 minutes. Cook your favorite pasta according to the directions while the sauce simmers. Add about ½ cup pasta water to the sauce and stir. Serve the sauce with the pasta. Makes 4-6 servings.

Notes: You can substitute jarred pepperoncini or banana peppers for the fresh banana peppers. You can also substitute one 15 oz can tomato sauce and one 15 oz can diced or crushed tomatoes for the 28 oz can crushed tomatoes.

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Have you ever had this style sauce before? I’d love to hear about it! If you try my recipe, be sure to take a photo, post on Instagram, and tag me @annecreates.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

My Passion For Running Ebbs and Flows

But why?

I’m struggling to return to a normal training routine after traveling, illness, and an increase in my work hours. It’s just a fact I’ve come to accept. And this relentless summer heat and humidity aren’t exactly helping.

As I ponder this phenomenon, I wonder if there’s more to it. Don’t get me wrong. I still love running! But I think that after training seriously for my spring marathon and then dealing with the disappointment of the event being canceled 6 miles in due to severe thunderstorms, I’m a bit burned out.

This week it was my turn as a coach to give the benediction, our weekly motivational speech for our marathon training team. Part of my speech was to help remind me why I love this sport, and I was definitely inspired by Des Linden’s book, which I just finished.

Here is what I told my team:

How many of you woke up this morning and thought to yourselves:

“OH, SHIT! I’m running double digits today!”

Yeah. Me, too.

For those of us who have done this before, this stage of the game can still feel daunting. And if this is your first time running this distance, I promise you will be fine!

But why in the world do we do this?

Pursuing crazy goals with equally crazy people… well, I can’t think of anything better!

Running can be a uniter of community. An outlet for angst. And a way to prove to yourself that you are strong.

Running can become a passion, even if that passion is just for the process and rituals of training.

Des Linden is the 2018 Boston Marathon winner, and I recently read her memoir. This is one of my favorite quotes from her book, Choosing to Run:

“Having passion for work alone might be the ultimate goal of all, because the work is the only thing that is really, truly yours. You’re entitled only to your labor. You’re not entitled to the fruit of your labor. The universe guarantees no results.”

― Des Linden, Choosing to Run: A Memoir

On three: PASSION

We typically have a word each week that we focus on from our quote. I felt that passion was the best from Des’ quote. Plus, I really wanted to hear 100-ish runners scream PASSION!

Double-digit runs seem to arrive earlier each season! But as usual, I had great company on this run, and I did make it through.

Here’s hoping I can establish a better workout routine in the coming weeks!

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Lead photo is of me standing in front of a mural in the city of Richmond. Photo courtesy of Amy W.

Have you ever experienced burnout with your workout routine? What did you do to find your motivation again? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

My Nest is Almost Empty

As I tell my patients about my ever-aging family, I inform them that this fall, both of my girls will be in college.

Except fall isn’t entirely true. They move in August. And today, on my younger daughter’s 18th birthday, I realized that my husband and I are less than one month away from being empty nesters.

How did we get here?

They were just babies yesterday! I still remember questioning if they would ever make it to kindergarten as we went through the rituals of potty training. I tried to reassure myself that they would not still be in diapers when that happened. But there were days I had my doubts…

I took my younger daughter to orientation at Longwood yesterday. A wonderful little day trip to Farmville, and a ritual that was missing from my older daughter’s college experience because of the pandemic.

My older daughter is now a senior there.

And while the almost college students were doing their thing at orientation, they wrangled the parents into an auditorium for our own presentations. They were more focused on parents who are new to this whole college transition. This is not my first rodeo, however.

It struck me, though, that they kept referring to the new Freshmen as children. How odd. Because they aren’t children anymore. Technically, they are adults. Young adults.

That stage in life where they are exploring a newfound independence. They still need their parents. Or do they? Is it just a thing we tell ourselves to feel better that the very fruit of our labors are leaving our homes?

I will definitely miss my adventure buddy. That’s what my younger daughter and I did a lot of during the pandemic. Taking day trips to the mountains was a way to escape the monotony of the walls of our home.

My older daughter is my thrift store shopping buddy. I’m afraid that I’ve instilled in her the love of the hunt for bargains and treasures, and she is hopelessly addicted to searching for vintage clothes. I love that she has her own unique style that no one else can replicate. It’s the epitome of cool.

I’m thrilled that they will get to experience a year of college together. I know my younger daughter would have been fine on her own at another school, but I also know how comforting it is to have someone you trust to show you the ropes.

And so now what? What do I do with my time once they are gone?

The house will definitely be cleaner. The fridge will be more empty. The animals will sulk without their companions.

I suppose my job as a parent never truly ends, but this is definitely going to be weird.

And I will move one step closer to becoming the other side of the sandwich. I’m not ready.

With my younger daughter at Longwood. Photo by author.

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Are you working through the transition to empty nester, too? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

I’m Afraid Climate Change is Affecting the Sport of Running

This seems like the hottest summer yet

Wow. Did I ever pick a great day to get back into the practice of running!

My last run until yesterday was in London when it was still the month of June. My least favorite souvenir was the sinus infection I caught on the trip. It rendered me unable to run until yesterday. Well, I guess I could have run before that, but working zapped all of my energy in those initial days of recovery. And, well, the need for money definitely won!

But yesterday’s run was brutal.

Temperatures were in the upper 70s with humidity at 92%. It felt like swimming instead of running. Every breath felt like you were adding another row to the sweater lining your lungs. And my legs were definitely not happy with my choice to make them run 9 miles after such a long break. The only saving graces were the slight breeze and the company.

I can’t remember such relentless heat and humidity.

Maybe I should consider myself lucky that I don’t live in Texas or Arizona right now. The high temperature in Phoenix today was a high of 115 degrees, and in Dallas the prediction was 105 degrees. Yikes!

Is it really getting hotter?

The short answer is yes. If it feels like summers are getting hotter, it’s because they are. Between 1970 and 2022, the average summer temperature increased by 2.4 degrees. And it’s exacerbated in urban areas by lots of asphalt and limited green spaces.

Does anyone remember the extreme heat in Eugene, Oregon during the 2020 US Olympic Trials held in 2021? Oregon typically has mild summers, but not that year. Races were moved to earlier during the day to beat the heat, and some athletes even passed out from the demand that high temperatures placed on their bodies.

Nighttime used to bring cooler temperatures that allowed for more comfortable running, but now even night temperatures are staying higher than average, warming by 3 degrees on average since 1970.

How about that air quality?

The other effects of climate change? Dry conditions that lead to wildfires affect air quality not just where the fires are, but hundreds of miles away as the smoke and ash are carried by the atmosphere. Canadian wildfires caused brutally poor air quality throughout the US for multiple days in the summer of 2023 already.

During low air quality days, my asthmatic lungs couldn’t tolerate walking outside to my car, much less sucking wind during a run. My lungs just burned with all of the smoke, so being active outdoors was a no for me on these days and definitely affected my ability to train.

On these days, the parent organization for my marathon training team advised us not to run or to take our training inside on the treadmill. The scary fact is that running with such dense particulates in the air can cause dangerous cardiopulmonary effects.

What does this mean for running events?

Climate change is beginning to affect races as well. My own run club is considering moving one of our hottest races from late August to early September, hoping in part that moving the race later by even two weeks will make for more ideal race conditions.

And even my spring marathon was plagued by a highly unusual April severe thunderstorm, causing the race I had trained for all winter to be canceled mid-race. It was a huge disappointment.

During the Blue Ridge Marathon, waiting for a bus to pick us up after the race was canceled due to a severe thunderstorm. Photo courtesy of Selina C.

What can we do about it?

In our inability to adapt to the intensifying summer heat, we try to combat it in other ways. Taking to the trails to find shade, slowing your speed, running at night, wearing light clothing, and a wonderful concept called “bra ice” are ways to attempt to work with the evolving inferno that is summer in the US.

Wait… you haven’t heard of bra ice? Maybe it’s just a thing on my running team, but when we provide water stops, we always have ice to stuff in your bra in the summer! It may only last for about a mile, but it does help!

And, of course, it’s essential to stay well hydrated and replace electrolytes. Maybe older generations will make fun of younger runners who take advantage of the plethora of new hydration products on the market, but I don’t think the development of these is coincidental. Using these may become the difference between a successful and failed run during the hottest training season.

Like it or not, it seems the heat and weird weather patterns are here to stay. Time will tell whether our sport can adapt.

All I know is, this summer training season has been the most miserable yet.

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Do you think climate change is affecting the sport of running? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

First, They Came for the Books. Then They Came for Equity

Hanover County does it again

Once again, I attended the Hanover County Public School Board meeting.

On the agenda for July? Dissolving the Community Equity Advisory Board, a group to which I was appointed, but in which I was never able to participate. Due to certain people complaining about the “wokeness” and unfairness of equity, the committee was placed on hold until further analysis.

I had a bone to pick with one of the speakers last month when the board voted to unilaterally give themselves control over “deselecting,” AKA banning books.

Here is what I said:

Last month, you heard many citizens of Hanover tell you facts about education and the value of books, teachers, and librarians. But as we know, people don’t respond to facts. They respond to stories.

So I am going to share a story with you about how reading a book with sexual content helped me.

During the last meeting, a retired social worker spoke, making the gross assumption that all children who are molested and exposed to porn will become abusers and perverts themselves.

What she said made me gasp out loud.

By her analogy, I’m automatically a scourge on society, simply because I survived childhood sexual assault.

But I went on to finish my public school education, graduated magna cum laude from college, and went on to my top choice for graduate school where I received my training to be a healthcare provider.

I even got married and had children.

As far as survivors go, I think I’m the norm, not the exception.

You see, one in four women are assaulted in their lifetimes, many as children or teenagers.

When I tried to get help from the grownups in my life, my parents told me to never speak of it again. My own youth minister told me that I should ask God to forgive ME. I never got justice.

I felt so much shame for most of my young life. Church lessons in purity culture taught me that I had tempted him somehow. My JC-Penny shorts and t-shirts were too revealing on my pre-pubescent body. I must have been too nice to him and led him on, but I was just following the good-girl teachings from my church. His lustful, abusive nature was somehow my fault because boys aren’t responsible for containing their desires. And then I felt that I was only as valuable to God as a crumpled piece of paper or a chewed-up piece of gum. Actual lessons from my youth minister.

Perhaps the real grooming happens in church.

But you know what set me on the path to healing? Reading a book.

In I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, I recognized the pattern of grooming, earning a victim’s trust, manipulating them, and setting them up for the big event, because It all happened to me.

And this was reinforced when I read The Bluest Eye and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, both books that discuss child molestation.

These books are on the list of 120 provided to you by Moms for Liberty.

Reading these books did not turn me into a child molester. They taught me that abuse happens every day and that I’m not alone. And as painful as those stories were to read, they helped me to finally accept that the abuse was not my fault.

I learned how to take my power back from my abuser. I saw that healing was possible.

And now in my practice of medicine, I help to empower my patients to recover from their own traumas, because the emotional aspects of healing are just as important as the physical.

Reading books changes lives. Finding stories that resonate with yours helps lonely children feel validated and perhaps even a part of a community that they didn’t even know existed.

Not all books with sexual content are smut and pornography. Most thoughtfully teach the reader lessons about the world and their own sexuality.

I beg you to trust your educators to simply do their jobs. The ones with advanced degrees in literature and education who have actually read these books, not average citizens who can’t even pronounce the word library correctly. Stop this madness. Save the books.

And I support the Community Equity Advisory Board, as I was supposed to be a part of this important group.

I had to make this as concise as possible, as the original version of my speech was over 5 minutes long. It had to be only 3 minutes, so I trimmed the content and spoke quickly!

I’ve had much practice telling my story, but I feel certain this is one perspective of books with sexually explicit content that the board hadn’t heard before. And although I’m pretty sure that they were listening without their ears, I did hear gasps from the audience when I mentioned that grooming happens in the church.

I doubt that what I said made any bit of difference because these folks are only going to listen to the voices they want to hear, but at least I spoke my mind. And I will keep doing so, as now my kids are out of this system, and I have no fear of retaliation against them.

Here’s to fighting the good fight!

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Are you aware of what is happening in your school board meetings? This nonsense is happening everywhere, as Moms for Liberty and groups like them are carefully planning school board takeovers. It’s time to get involved.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.