Press On Notre Dame

I woke up today feeling a nearly free of the agitation that has plagued me this past week. I said my morning prayers, extending gratitude to God for a new day, one that Miss Stacey, Anne Shirley's beloved teacher, would proclaim as "fresh and with no mistakes in it yet." 

I thought about the Notre Dame win 42-13 over Florida State. Football is back! I then brought to mind all the friends who have read, responded, rebutted and reached out to what I have written about Father Jenkins at the Rose Garden Ceremony. I remembered that out of difficulty can come growth, wisdom, understanding and insight. It's not something I welcome often, but it's not something anyone can shy away from in this day and age, is it? I feel privileged to have such conversations and yet they are exhausting. I took a deep breath and one passage of scripture came to mind: St. Paul's Letter to Philippians. He urges all Christians to "Press On."

I let the Word of God speak in my heart. "Press on Irish. Press on Notre Dame." This is not a matter of we did right or wrong—that has already been discussed. This was not a question of Should the Jenkins be removed from office? People are passionate! However, we are living in the aftermath. I thought: keep going....survive...advance.....Andiamo! Press On.

In writing about Father Jenkins, I have tried hard to maintain an objective point of view, doing all I could to distance my emotions. Yet, I am aware that when we care about a person, this isn't easy.Perspective clouds and clarifies our vision. Relationships allow us to speak to and of a person's character—which according to ethics is subject to moral evaluation. How does one do that? Reflect, compare, contrast, look for evidence, determine a mean. Look for virtue and for vice! Consult others, Pray about it.

I got to know Father John almost 25 years ago. I am a member of the third cohort of ACE teachers, meaning the program was in its early stages of development, consisting of but 150 teachers. We were on campus for eight weeks in the summer, taking education classes before being sent to an under-resourced Catholic school. We concluded our days with 10:00 pm mass in the Keenan Stanford chapel (and then a lot of us went out). I went every night. Whether or not he was presiding, Father John did too.

John Jenkins, C.S.C. '76 was also a classmate and friend of the ACE founder, Rev. Tim Scully, C.S.C. '76. Both priests are life long proponents of Catholic education. Father John supported all of us ACE teachers with his gentle and prayerful presence. He smiled and laughed easily. His kindness was real...but he was real too. He would call things as he saw them, which made me laugh a lot. I never questioned why we were friends--he told me. He said that he appreciated my goodness, a quality I had never thought about before. I've never told him this, but I would like him to know his compliment changed the way I see myself and aim to live my life. I fall short often, but I truly do seek to model goodness. 

In my time since ACE, I have reached out to Father John with philosophical and theological questions. He has always found time to respond and teach me more than I asked. I have run into him often on campus over the years, at the Women's Basketball National Championship game in Tampa, and even while running the Chicago marathon (He ran it. I was watching the race and eating a donut). He responds to my emails. He never fails to thank me for my work in Catholic education and for bringing the spirit of Notre Dame to my community. Truly, he is a spiritual Father in fullest sense of the what the title suggests. 

I have been close with school leaders before. The best ones never, ever complain or reveal the toll that their works takes on them. Father Jenkins is no different. This must be an isolating and lonely time. And yet, I know he has family he can turn to (he is one of 12 children) as well as those in community, the Congregation of Holy Cross. 

I have had some difficulty in ascertaining where Notre Dame can go from here. It's been hard for me determine what my hope is for Father John—beyond of course prayers for his health and well-being, which is why the motto from scripture: Press On brought some peace. I hope other members of the Notre Dame family will embrace this motto.

NB: This is NOT the same as "Fight On" as in USC ;-) 

Photo Credits
Pat Neary, C.S.C. , me and John Jenkins, C.S.C. at ACE Graduation
Press On

A Case (Study) for Perspective: Father Jenkins and ND Colleagues

A friend and I are in the exploratory phase of a creating a podcast. Facilitating a successful launch requires developing a platform, determining our audience, designing a logo (aka pod-art), distilling best practices and so forth. Imagining what we might offer has been fun, as I love talking to others about this. I have to say, this conversation has been much interesting (and enjoyable) than the majority of those I have been having in 2020. I'm sure you understand. 

This past weekend, I had a long talk with my friends Michael and Lesley about the possibility of this podcast. Michael offered but one word as his advice for what this alleged podcast needs: perspective. He said, "Consider your perspective. Offer perspective. Maintain perspective! Perspective changes everything."

Michael Lewis, a tremendously talented and popular author has said all great writers have one thing in common. When the world is looking in one direction, a writer has the ability to look the other way...and then write about it. In short, he is speaking about perspective. A great podcast must do the same. 

Simple enough, right?...write. Truth be told, it's not that easy. I will let you, the reader consider why perspective can be a challenge. I would like to invite you, the reader to offer tips on how to broaden one's perspective. I urge you, the reader to share the benefits of doing so. In the meantime, I would like to offer one example of my own. I would like to thank a former colleague Peter for the virtual dialog that prompted this perspective. 

Question: Am I my brother's keeper?

Leaders do not act in isolation. I suppose some do, but we have titles for those.

As the New York Times has written: Notre Dame’s President Faces an Angry Campus After Getting the Coronavirus. Father John Jenkins, C.S.C. violated the protocols of the University in failing to wear a mask and maintain social distancing at the Rose Garden Ceremony for Amy Coney Barrett. In reading the article, I came to learn "at least 10 Notre Dame faculty members besides Father Jenkins attended the event and all except him have repeatedly tested negative for the coronavirus since returning to South Bend." There is no information about whether or not they were wearing masks.

I was aware that the Dean of the Law School, G. Marcus Cole was there because he is photographed sitting next to Father Jenkins, doing the right thing: wearing a mask. 

Someone said students who exhibited the behavior of Father Jenkins would be expelled. That comment led me to research if that was in fact, accurate. In the official Update Following the President's Address to Students, University policy notes  under "Addressing Violations" the following 

"It is imperative that students, faculty, and staff call one another to accountability for lapses in mask wearing, physical distancing, or gathering together outside of the guidelines above. Compliance depends on all community members having the courage to call others to behavior that protects us all." 

I am not shifting blame—let me make that very clear. We are responsible for our own actions AND and, I would like to raise this question: Should one of those 10+ faculty members have said something to Father Jenkins? Would I? 

As an ethics teacher, this event may now serve as an interesting case study. Some might think it would be hard to talk to your superior about what they ought to do. Yes, and I would add that helping other to do the right thing is rarely as easy task. As a Christian, I would like my students to consider: Do we have a moral obligation to help those in our community make the right decisions? Is it possible in this day and age to be our brothers and sisters' keepers? What does that look like? And how does that relate to this event. Finally, I would like to hear To what degree ought we hold these adults responsible? I wonder, did anyone perceive how this would look on the national stage. Obviously, Jenkins did not. Were all parties lacking wisdom and foresight?

I find this shift in perspective to be an interesting one, for it is not something I have heard anyone else talk about. I don't know if is an issue I would discuss on the podcast but the narrative has now taken a new turn—so I had to write it down.

In sports, we are constantly asking athletes to keep their eye on the ball, see the basket, or visualize the race. Perspective is essential. In this case, we see not one but many others who didn't see what might come from a bad choice and a big mistake. Perspective was lacking.

In spirituality, we are called to envision the world as God does. However, one friend told me recently that she thinks God is on vacation. I have to agree with that perspective....

The Notre Dame Family, Leadership and Light

I am sure I have felt this way before, but I can't recall when it happened last. On Saturday, I thought twice about wearing my favorite jacket with its interlocking ND. Two days later, I felt like a neighbor was staring at the shamrock pin on my vest: the one that represents the Fightin' Irish. My alma mater is in the spotlight—a spotlight of judgment and shame, disdain and mistake making. This is no easy place to be and for now it is where we stand. The University's campaign HERE has a whole new meeting.

In my best moments, I am able to take a step back, breathe and just shake my head. "I know, I know" is all I can say. At other times, I would like to offer things as I really see them. Instead the words of the Notre Dame Alumni Association Executive Director, Dolly Duffy '84, come to mind.

On a Zoom meeting tonight with other alumni board leaders Duffy said, "We are a family. We have to remember that. And families make mistakes. Notre Dame has made a lot of them recently." She paused and offered a knowing smile. "Right?"

I have always believed in the ethos of the Notre Dame family. In fact, "family" is a charism of the Congregation of the Holy Cross, who founded the University. I work at Saint Francis High School, founded by the Brothers of the Holy Cross. At the very center of our campus is a statue of the Holy Family, where paths cross, students gather, and we have the blessing of athletes. This sculpture is visible sign of what Father Sorin and the community taught, preached and lived. Today, I live out the spirit of family in many ways. For example, I never miss a chance to see the Irish when they come to the Bay Area. Every other Thanksgiving when the football team plays at Stanford I tell people that I will be spending the holiday with my nuclear family and the rest of the weekend with my Notre Dame family. Here come the Irish; I get to host them all!

To be a member of a family means that there will be conflict and tension, disappointment and even disgust. However, it also means caring for one another, extending kindness, loving and forgiving. Family is a foundation. It means you stand up for one another and have their back. In light of current events, I do not have an official charge for the Notre Dame family—how we should be or what we should say right now. No, I simply want to rest in Duffy's remembrance: We are a family.

On Saturday evening, a friend and fellow alumna brought to my attention that Father Jenkins was not wearing a mask at the Rose Garden ceremony for Amy Coney Barrett. Like many people she was shocked, disappointed and angry that the President was modeling behaviors contrary to what he has been preaching to students. What might be equally surprising is that I did not even notice. I don't know that I could have. How? Why? My vision was completely focused on one thing: the Barrett family.

Amy's husband, Jesse and I are classmates and friends. Jesse lived in Keenan and I lived just across North Quad in Farley Hall. We met my freshman year in our International Relations course. Over the course of four years, Jesse and I ate a lot of meals together and talked often. Though naturally gifted and very intelligent, I knew how seriously he took his studies. I remember thinking he saw the world in an amazing way—he studied Arabic, he traveled to Israel. I remember him telling me about his family in South Bend. I knew he was faith-filled and though he has a great voice (it's very deep) I recall that he was a fantastic listener. I remember wondering more than once, Why does he want to be my friend? I always felt like I was the lucky one. 

For me to see my friend with his wife and seven children at the White House brought tears to my eyes. Though I don't know Amy, I remember Jesse telling me about her when they first met. I know of the sacrifices he has made in his own talented legal career. I am inspired by her gifts and talents. I love that she is a working mom and that she is a beloved teacher! She makes me want to do more with all I have been given. 

On Monday, a different friend and fellow alum sent me the apology that Father Jenkins wrote to the Notre Dame community. I read it several times now. I accept his apology. I believe he is sincere in his regret not because he has to be, but because that is who he is. Father John is a leader of integrity, purpose and prayer. To me, he models true Christian leadership which is defined by sacrificial service. Though he has been called hypocritical, in this instance I find him to be human. You might disagree.

In 2009, Father Jenkins hosted President Obama at the University's 164th Commencement Exercises. This invitation brought Notre Dame into similar spotlight. In an interview I saw, Jenkins admitted that he did not anticipate the backlash, division and contempt that event would yield. Nor did I, for Notre Dame has a long history of inviting the President of the United States to graduation. Obama changed our history as the first Black American in the Oval Office. But as Jenkins said, "I was wrong." He was forced to navigate tough waters during and after that time, let alone countless others (meeting the grieving parents of Declan Sullivan comes to mind) That is what leaders must do. 

I have often wondered why does anyone want to be a leader today? This question is more rhetorical than sincere, as I certainly would not want to lead a school on any level right now. 

There are those who lead because of the ego. They want the spotlight. Many are power hungry. Some don't think anyone can do it like they can. Some lead because they can. In some situations there is no one else! And some people lead because they are called to do so. They are willing to serve. They serve as models for what to do and for what not to do. The public is weighing in on Notre Dame leadership—from Father Jenkins to a potentially new Supreme Court Justice in Amy Coney Barrett, to Coach Brian Kelly (39 football players tested positive for COVID). We know it's no easy time. 

Being a member of the Notre Dame family means that I respect and love Our Lady's University. It is something I am willing to fight for. I know of its flaws and failings, I always want ND to be a "Force for Good" and I know it falls short. I also know this family has roots in the message and challenge of the Gospel. Right now, I can only offer that this family is both blessed and it is broken...much like the Body of Christ. And so in these tough times, though I cannot go to the Grotto—I offer this prayer and invite all those in the Notre Dame family to pray it with me. 

Let us pray 

• for the health and well being of all those who are affected by COVID. 
• for a world that builds bridges and seeks mercy.
• for families—our own and those we create and in a special way for the Notre Dame family. 
• that we love, learn, lead and live in your light oh Lord. Amen

Photo Credits
Jenkins
Barrett Family
Jenkins and Obama
ND Family

Halloween Prep: Sports and Spirituality Style

Devoid of any specific expectations, I am very excited for the holiday season. I have already seen posts from friends horrified by Costco's Christmas trees and/or the snowy village on sale now at Home Depot. I'm not thrilled about jumping this shark—or rather this Santa—but I just don't have the energy to be angry about this. Thank you, Covid. Instead, I am doing all I can to enjoy autumn. I am embracing the days getting shorter, the signs of harvest and the orange and black of Halloween.

Halloween is more popular than any other holiday in San Francisco. Perhaps it's a reflection of the arrested development of the city, but October 31 is far from a celebration just for children. Homes here are decorated with lights, spider webs, tombstones, goblins, witches, pumpkins and more. Even though Halloween has allegedly been cancelled in 2020, I have a few ideas for how one can prepare for this holiday—Sports and Spirituality style, pandemic or not.

Costumes: Trick or treating is not required. People love dressing up for Halloween! While many devout, if not orthodox Catholics will recommend that children dress up like saints, I don't think you can ever go wrong as an Olympian, an athlete representing your favorite sports team or even better a great mascot! I am not a fan of costume that includes the adjective "sexy." Please, no "sexy" referee, nun, priest, deacon or defensive back. Thanks. Creativity is always a plus. If you are from our nation's capital, I dare you to dress up as a representative of the Washington Football Team. Good luck.

Candy: For me to recommend a healthy snack—a bag of trail mix, organic chocolate, a protein bar—for your trick-or-treaters might be prudent, but it would also be hypocritical. It would be honorable and yet it would be untruthful. The fact of the matter is I always wanted candy. I still remember the thrill of receiving a king sized candy bar from former Oakland Raiders' coach John Madden. In short, more is more.

Curriculum: I think it's important for young people to learn the legends that surround All Hallow's Eve. Those with DisneyPlus ought to view "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" and for younger children "Donald Duck's Trick or Treat." These movies speak to the spirit of the American holiday. The religious roots of it are well served in Jim Martin SJ's video on Busted Halo entitled "Saints and All Hallow's Eve."

And for those who want a classic thriller, a true horror film—rather than watching "Halloween" (1978), "Hocus Pocus" (1993), or "The Exorcist" (1973), give this recommendation a thought. 

My friend Jimmy wrote, "if past sports competitions were scary movies, what’s your top 5?" What a profound question, for in many ways, the analogy works. Both elicit adrenaline and keep you on the edge of your seat. Most times, such stories do not end well. People get mutilated, the pain runs deep. It's rare that one wants to watch either again.

I will let my next post both reveal his top five....and mine. 

Halloween will take place on a Saturday this year, the Sabbath. Though our spirits have been challenged, damaged and even bruised amidst social turmoil, economic strife, political division and personal health, we must look for signs of resilience and grit, hope and determination. To celebrate and find joy in something as simple as secular holiday might be more important than ever. Happy Halloween!

Photo Credits
Mask
Referee
Ducks

Fighting for Compassion in Medicine: Thank you Sam Grewe

The latest installment of "What Would You Fight For?" concluded with the charge: "Fighting for compassion in medicine. We are the fighting Irish."

Fighting for compassion? and in medicine? Something doesn't add up.  However, according to Notre Dame Professor Dominic Vachon, "We used to think it was important to train emotional detachment. That was wrong." He adds, "Here at Notre Dame we're teaching and studying compassion from the perspective of biology and neuroscience, to help our future doctors and nurses to have a foundation in a compassionate mindset. Both for their patients' benefits as well as for themselves."

Notre Dame's website reports, "In 1995 Vachon was a practicing psychologist, counseling health care providers worn thin by day after day of patient care. In time, Vachon, too, became burnt out. To survive, he emotionally detached from his patients but still harbored a growing burden. He wasn’t alone — more than 50 percent of physicians have symptoms of burnout, and the impact is seen on both the physicians and their patients. The antidote, Vachon believed, was a better understanding of compassion in caregivers. But he needed the science to prove it."

“There is a crisis of compassion in health care,” says Vachon. “Compassion is essential for patient care and it’s essential for the well-being of the clinician. The two go hand in hand.”There is more to medicine than the science skills." While it was surprising to me that health care was remotely devoid of compassion, I was not surprised in the least to read about the symbiotic benefit it affords patient and provider. 

Compassion, Vachon is quick to note, "is more than kindness and cheerful bedside demeanor. It has four distinct components: You have to notice suffering, be moved by it, want to do something about it, and act capably."

“Compassion is more than your feelings. Compassion is your motivation to apply your competence to that patient in front of you. Compassion is what drives you to be as competent as you can be,” he explains. “When you think that compassion is only about being sympathetic and warm and good bedside manner, those are all true, but what the science of compassion really helps reveal to us is that it’s not just your emotions. It’s actually how you manage your emotions, how you’re motivated to respond to the suffering in front of you. And how you can bring to bear all your competence right in front of you.”

I understand the *science* of the virtue. I appreciate the psychology behind the study. Medicine and healing, patient care and providence (lower case "s") depend on it. But, to me—as a believer, a Christian, a woman of faith and as a child of God—it is something more.  I have come to know and understand compassion best through the students of Father Greg Boyle.

In his book "Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion" recalls stories from teaching “Theological Issues in American Short Fiction” in Folsom State Prison. At one point, he notes that his students—convicted felons—use the terms sympathy, empathy and compassion interchangeably. He asks "What's the difference?"

"Well, sympathy," one begins, "is when your homie's mom dies and you go up to him and say, "Spensa — sorry to hear 'bout your moms." 

Just as quickly, there is a volunteer to define empathy.

"Yeah, well, empathy is when your homie's mom dies and you say, "Spensa, 'bout your moms. Sabes qué, my moms died six months ago. I feel ya, dog." 

"Excellent," I say. "Now, what's compassion?"

No takers. The class collectively squirms and stares at their state-issue boots.

"Come on now,' I say, 'Compassion — what's it mean?"

Their silence is quite sustained, like visitors entering for the first time some sacred, mysterious temple. Finally, an old-timer, down twenty-five years, tentatively raises his finger. I call on him.

"Well, now,' he says, all eyes on him, shaking his head, 'Compassion — that's sumthin' altogether different."

He ponders what he'll say next.

"Cause,' he adds humbly, 'That's what Jesus did. I mean, Compassion . . . IS . .  God."

God is compassionate, loving kindness. All we're asked to do is to be in the world who God is. Certainly compassion was the wallpaper of Jesus' soul, the contour of his heart, it was who he was. 

Jesus pulled this off. Compassion is no fleeting occasional emotion rising to the surface like eros or anger. It's full-throttled. Scripture scholars connect the word to the entrails, to the bowels, from the deepest part of the person. This was how Jesus was moved, from the entirety of his being. He was 'moved with pity' when he saw folks who seemed like 'sheep without a shepherd.' He had room for everybody in his compassion.

When I think of compassion, I think of Jesus. It's that simple for me. He modeled the very definition that Vachon gave. Christ noticed the suffering of both men and women. Scripture reveals that he was moved by it time and again. We know he wanted to do something about it for He called on the Father. His miracles, His touch, His love brought healing. Indeed he acted capably.

Sam Grewe said, "My doctor's empathy —it helped me through some of my darkest days." No wonder we say Jesus is the light of the world. 

Thank you Sam for sharing your story—one of Sports and Spirituality, of hope and of healing.

Photo Credits
High Jump
Young Sam
Light of the World