Open Every Door

Shortly after the threat of Covid-19 began shutting everything down and life changed as I (we) had known it, I came across this quote from Emily Dickinson:

                “Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.”

Dickinson sought inspiration for her poetry, I seek to make sense of a world seemingly turned upside down.  As the weeks passed, I have come back again and again to this quote.  Each time asking myself what is the door waiting to be opened? 

Some of the early doors opened to the fog of navigating a new reality for work and so many things in life I took for granted.  Other times there was an invitation to curiosity in exploring possibilities and the time I had on my hands. There have also been many doors which have led to deeper connection with my community, family, friends and co-workers.

In the past couple of weeks, the door opened to pain, sadness, and a sense of responsibility to do better in the face of systemic racism.  This doorway has led to candid conversations, to seeking information, to sitting in the discomfort, and the intrapersonal work to address my own biases and learn how to do better.  

As a woman of faith, I trust the dawn will come.  I seek to open the doors with a listening and humble heart, especially when the dawn seems distant and the road uncertain.  What doors might be waiting for you?

Sr. Kimberly Porter, OSB

My Ongoing Conversion from Prejudice

           I didn’t know that I was prejudiced until I was about 8 years old and may not have comprehended the meaning of being very prejudiced. My great-great aunt lived with us and we were attending  St Johns Children’s Home annual picnic. When we went into the lady’s room an elderly black lady was cleaning, and my aunt obviously knew her from  the small group of black people who lived two  blocks from us. They shook hands and were chatting when my aunt turned to me and said, “Jean, shake hands with the lady.” My stomach did a little flip, but I knew I had to do what Aunt Vennie told me to do. My first thought was how to find another lady’s room where I could wash my hands! 

           Two years later I was working at a Bingo Hall where my family was responsible for the concessions. My brother and I (ages 8 and 10 ) walked among the players selling soft drinks, snacks, and beer (that’s right-beer.) Some young adults volunteered to change cards and call bingos back to check for accuracy. One of the young men was black and came to tell me good-by because it was his last night. Gentleman that he was, he extended his hand and I gave him mine, not because someone told me to but because I knew it was the right thing to do. At that moment, I became determined to overcome  my prejudice --easier said than done.

           I clearly remember that my family would not attend a movie in Cincinnati because we might need to sit next to a black person. Black people were not welcome in movies or restaurants in Kentucky until 1953. Even then, I told myself that we avoided blacks  by choice, not because we were prejudiced

           Years later when I attended Catholic University for my masters degree, there were several black sisters in attendance. My opportunity had come. I found it easy to chat with them and even made a couple friends. Then one evening a black friend asked me to go swimming with her in the  University pool. I found it easy to agree. That evening I got in the pool first. To my amazement,  when my friend dove in, my stomach did another flip and the water around her dive seemed to turn chocolate. When I got out of the pool and met my friend, I knew in my heart that the illusion of chocolate water  was an end to my prejudice.  It is such a blessing. Color is no longer an issue for me when meeting anyone. Praise God!

                                    Sr. Victoria Eisenman, OSB

Prayer for Change

      Over seventy years ago, when I was about five years old and at my grandfather’s house, some children from across the way were playing jump rope in the street.They were having a lot of fun and invited me to play with them.  Happily, I did.  Before long, my grandfather called me inside.  “If you play with those n……, you’ll turn black just like them!’  I was young, but old enough to know better.

        Confused and sad, I stayed inside. This is my earliest memory of racism. Still, today, the sadness overflows – even after all the efforts, suffering and progress toward civil and human rights. 

        Let us unite in prayer for those who continue to struggle for justice.

                                                

                                                  Prayer for Change

God of All,

   Bless and protect those uniting for the sake of needed change.  Bring us together, as a nation, with a new vision that respects the dignity of every human being, that protects the vulnerable, and that upholds human and civil rights.  Give us courage and the grace to love one another as you love us.  Comfort those who mourn. Remove all fear and let us know true peace and justice in our time.  We praise you and we thank you for your sustaining us

 Amen

                    Sr. Sharon Portwood, OSB

“Keep death daily before your eyes.” RB: 4, 47

       Looking out my bedroom window this morning, I watched the healthy, bright green leaves on the hillside trees sway and bend in the breeze. Within a moment, I called to mind the pandemic coronavirus that is causing so much death and sorrow for all of us. Neither do the leaves keep me from hearing Benedict’s words in Chapter 4: “Keep death daily before your eyes.” The number of cases, deaths and sorrow increase daily.

       As some of you may remember, our property sits above the muddy Ohio river and is large enough to give us some protection. We have isolated ourselves, but are able to let walkers and runners use our main drive around the Academy buildings. We can walk to our cemetery and beg those sisters to do something: Enlighten those seeking a vaccine. Keep safe those who care for the sick and dying. Protect our employees whose personal circumstances allow them to come to continue to work. Console those who have lost family and friends.

       Keep yourselves and your families safe. 

           Sr. Mary Catherine Wenstrup, OSB