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Code of Silence

You swore to yourself a long time ago
There were some things that people never needed to know . . .

And you can’t talk about it
Because you’re following a code of silence . . .

That’s not the kind of code you’re inclined to break
Some things unknown are best left alone forever . . .

You’re never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way

But you can’t talk about it
And isn’t that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you’ve really got a lot to say?

Excerpt from Code of Silence by Billy Joel

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Father Frank Richards was the principal of Knoxville Catholic High School when I was a student there.  He was a big bear of a man, soft-spoken with a kindly smile.  My Senior year, he presided over the special outdoor Mass at our retreat, the one where we all held hands.  He presented me with a plaque and congratulated me after I made the valedictory address at Graduation.  He also raped three boys.

Of course, none of us knew that then.  Nor did we know it the next year, or the year after that.  I learned the sordid truth from an article in the local paper over fifteen years later, about the time that I and everyone else in our Diocese learned that our beloved former Bishop was also guilty of decades-old sexual abuse, after one of his victims decided to go public despite having been paid over $100,000 by the Church for his silence.

Catholics seem to operate with the understanding that silence is golden when it comes to anything at all that could bring bad publicity upon the Church.  This attitude extends to more than cases of priestly sexual abuse.  I’ve continued to encounter this attitude throughout the Catholic education of my older children.  On several occasions, teachers left abruptly under mysterious circumstances and neither parents nor children were given any information or explanation, but were rather left to sort through the rumors or, in one particular egregious case, read all about it in the local paper.  The thought process seemed to be that if we didn’t talk about it at all, maybe it would go away.

As for Father Richards, they simply expunged him–the video put out to celebrate the school’s 75th anniversary just leaves him out of the list of KCHS principals, skipping right over the 1981- 1985 school years without comment.   Bishop O’Connell, having founded our diocese, couldn’t be forgotten so easily, but they took his name off a building.  And everyone tried to forget.

And why not, right? After all, we’d suffered so much embarrassment over the abuse scandal.  Some had even left the Church over it! Protestants were saying bad things about Catholics and looking suspiciously at every priest, even though we all knew that priests are no more likely to abuse children than anyone else.  We instituted Diocesan policies and took our Virtus classes so that we could continue our volunteer work and put up signs forbidding children to use the church bathrooms alone.  Why couldn’t everyone just move on?

Many of us really did think we could put this all behind us.  We didn’t know that more revolting revelations were forthcoming.

But many people did know.  The priests who had committed abuse and continued in ministry.  The people who had reported being abused by priests and bishops.  And Bishops who ignored victims, or didn’t believe them, or paid for their silence, and moved abusers from place to place–in some cases watching them advance in stature and responsibility–instead of removing them from the priesthood or reporting their crimes to authorities.  They knew, and they chose to remain quiet, one presumes from a misguided belief that their silence would avoid scandal.

In our Catechism we learn that scandal is “an attitude of behavior which leads another to do evil . . . [it] takes on a particular gravity by reason of the authority of those who cause it or the weakness of those who are scandalized . . . [it] is grave when given by those who by nature of office are obliged to teach and educate others” [CCC 2284-2285].

Our Bishops have failed dismally in their obligation to teach, educate, lead, protect, and shepherd the faithful.  My faith in the Church is unshaken, but my faith in its hierarchy is at an all-time low, and I am not alone.  The faithful laity will no longer be satisfied with apologies and committees.  We must demand change–accountability, penance, resignations, and complete transparency.

Bishops, the silence IS the scandal! It’s time to shed some light.

Silence IS

School started yesterday.  Our summer is over even though there is a month and a half left in the season!

There wasn’t a whole lot of time for fun in our last week.  It was actually a pretty typical week from one of our other summers–I worked every day and the kids stared at screens.  But that was the ONLY week that was true this summer so I’m calling it a win.

There was a lot to do, as there always is when school is about to start, like haircuts:

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And although I bought supplies online, we still spent most of Saturday shopping because Lorelei needed new clothes.

I promised everyone a trip to the lake in the afternoon, though, and I delivered on that promise.

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On Monday, we had our last big adventure.  I have no pictures to commemorate it, but we wore ourselves out spending maybe three hours at an enormous antique mall.  The kids thoroughly enjoyed it and each got to bring home a few items.

On Tuesday, we went for ice cream just once more as a last day of vacation treat.

And then on Wednesday school began.  No way would William let me photograph him on such an occasion.  You can see how thrilled Lorelei is to have to go back to regular school.

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Thanks for following along on our summer adventures.  Knowing I was going to be blogging about them helped motivate me to continue, and continuing gave me something regular to write about, so it was a great idea all around and I will plan to repeat it next year.

Here are all the posts in order:

Why We Can’t Have a 70s Summer and What We Are Doing Instead

The Summer Fun Continues . . .

More Summer Fun

Summer Fun Update

Summer Fun:  Vacation

That 70s Summer

In Which I Grow Lazy

Exploring History

Adventuring

Home Stretch

Just popping in to update anyone who has been following my minimalism posts . . .

I have NOT stopped, but I have slowed down.  When last I posted, we were moving into Kids’ Rooms Week.

We recently minimized Lorelei’s bedroom in a BIG way–because Jake moved out and we moved Lorelei to a new room!  It doesn’t need minimizing yet.  At some point I will share pictures of her big girl room, and show you what I did with the room she vacated.

As for William’s room, we have done work there in the past and while it does need more I decided it could wait till the next go round, because I had something far more challenging to tackle:  THE PLAYROOM.

Up until recently, Lorelei spent a lot of time in this room, even sleeping here because she had developed a fear of sleeping in her own bedroom.  Since she moved, this space sits vacant for days at a time–vacant of people anyway, not stuff.  I thought if we could make it nicer Lorelei might start spending more time up there, and especially that it might be a good place for her to do her homework as she moves from homeschool to public school in just a few days.

Well, we started.  But we have not finished.  Here’s a preview to give you an idea of what we are dealing with:

playroom 2playroom 3playroom 4playroom 1We have made a lot of progress, but we are not finished.  Given the pressures and time constraints inherent in working at home, delivering on promised summer fun, and getting ready to start school very shortly, we have not been able to work on this every day.

Following the schedule, after Kids’ Rooms came Catch-up week, then Office Week, and now it’s Living Room week.  I wasn’t planning on doing Office Week (the office is a mess, but most of it is out of my control!), but I do want to do some things in the living room, and I still wanted to go back to some of the kitchen cabinets.  I don’t want to wait six months until the next challenge to get to those things!

So, I am going to continue working on this in a sort of mixed up way for the next few weeks, even after the challenge is officially over.  I am determined to finish the playroom once and for all (this is far from being the first time we have tried to tackle it but it gets easier each time, especially since Lorelei is finally able to let go of things.).

I’ll post pictures when the playroom is complete, and I by then I should have an idea of how I plan to proceed.

For more adventures in minimalism, read on:

My explanation of Catholic Minimalism.

Week One

Week Two

Week Three

Week One Redux

Week Two Redux

Week Three Redux

It was the second to last full week of summer break, and my pace was slowing, but we still had some fun times!

On Tuesday we had breakfast at Nick and J’s, a former Waffle House now locally owned and serving breakfast and lunch, with the most enormous pancakes I have ever seen.  William ate two entire orders of French Toast.

We followed up breakfast with our very first visit to Plumb Creek Park, which is a five minute walk from our house, that is if there were any safe way to walk there.  Y’all, I’ve known they were building this park eventually since we moved in, which was seven years ago, so I was super excited to finally get to walk around there.  The walking trails are not quite finished but I foresee this as a great exercise spot when it gets cooler.

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On Thursday I kept a promise made two weeks ago when we stumbled across Bull Run Park, and took the kids swimming there.  I highly recommend it.  It’s not crowded. it’s shady, and the water temperature is comfortable.  I found it soothing and peaceful.  But we are buying water shoes before we return because Lorelei cut her foot on something.  It’s not a swimming pool, y’all.

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Friday we left town for a long-planned trip to Nashville, which is about three hours west of us.  The trip had a dual purpose.  First, to visit my sister and her family, and for the kids to see her house; and second, to go the Nashville Zoo.  Both parts of the trip were successful.

We visited on Friday and went to the zoo Saturday morning.  Someday I will write a whole post about the zoo and share more pictures, but the short version is that we were there for about five hours, and it was delightful, with lots of shade, happy animals in lovely habitats, and more opportunities for interacting with the animals than is typical in our experience.  William declared it one of his favorite zoos.

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Summer break is almost over and I’m sad because we’ve had so much fun that I don’t want it to end.  If you want to read more of our adventures, click on any of the links below.

Why We Can’t Have a 70s Summer and What We Are Doing Instead

The Summer Fun Continues . . .

More Summer Fun

Summer Fun Update

Summer Fun:  Vacation

That 70s Summer

In Which I Grow Lazy

Exploring History

Adventuring

 

 

Read the title.  Can you hear George Michael (RIP) singing?  Is the song stuck in your head now?  Because it’s been stuck in mine for the past couple of days as I contemplated this month’s theme!

I’m not sure what George Michael intended to convey in the song, but it got me thinking.  When my husband and I were married, someone thought it was hilarious to bring a ball and chain to the reception and attach it to his ankle.  I was not amused.  Which, however, leads me to another song, this one by Paul Overstreet and aptly entitled Ball and Chain.  The relevant lyrics are: Love don’t feel like a ball and chain to me; when I’m close to you my heart feels wild and free.

Read the rest at Everyday Ediths!

Last week I fell far short of my promised one-fun-thing-per-day promise.  I had a good excuse, though–I went to Nashville from Wednesday until Saturday to visit my sister.  Emily kindly provided some entertainment for her siblings in my stead, taking them blueberry picking.  And John took them to a “magnificent” (according to William) Asian restaurant to dine while I was gone.

But we did have one big adventure on Tuesday, one that did not turn out at all as I had planned!

We lived in South Knoxville when the big kids were little, and every Wednesday morning for years I used to take them to breakfast at Shoney’s.  Shoney’s was a big favorite for our family back then because we didn’t have a lot of money, we had a lot of mouths to feed, and kids ate free at the buffet!

So just about every summer since then we make a point to head south to that same Shoney’s to recreate some of that long ago summer fun.  Usually there’s a waitress or two there who still remembers us from back in the day (not this time, sadly).

That’s what the plan was on Tuesday, to be followed by a quick trip to the Fort Dickerson Overlook, perhaps a short walk on a trail, and visits to Scottish Pike Park and the new Suttree Landing Park that William and Lorelei have never seen.

Most of that will have to wait until another day, as you will see!

After a big breakfast, we drove up to Fort Dickerson Park and went to admire the view from the overlook.  I will never forget the first time I saw this view, about 25 years ago.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing–it was like I was in some enchanted faraway land instead of about a mile from downtown Knoxville.

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Now, I’ve been to Fort Dickerson many times, but this time I saw something new–a trail just to the left of the overlook.

And that’s when I had a bright idea.  Why don’t we explore it, I said.  Let’s just see where it goes, I said.  We can always turn around and come back.

So we braved the kudzu and started to walk.

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And we walked.  And we walked.  And we sort of committed.  Eventually it was clear that we were walking right around the lake.  I figured we’d end up at the bottom (I’ve taken a trail that goes there from a different parking lot) and then surely there would be a way back on the other side.

Sure enough, after a fairly easy walk we ended up exactly where I thought, and we started hunting for that other trail.  At first things seemed to go fairly well, and we made our way along the opposite side of the lake, heading in exactly the direction we were supposed to.

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Until, that is, we ended up at a very dead end, standing right on the bank of the lake with a sheer cliff several hundred feet tall in front of us.

So we doubled back to where we had taken what was clearly the wrong fork and kept walking, only to eventually realize the trail we were on did nothing but circle us back–after a long time, I might add–to an area close to where it began.

By now we had come to realize that there WAS no trail on the other side.  We had two choices for how to get back to the car–take the trail we’d come down to begin with, or leave the park and go by road.

Did I mention that it was about a million degrees by now? (Well, at least 90 anyway.)  And we didn’t bring water.  We were tired, exhausted, and dehydrated as we made our way to the parking lot and thence to Chapman Highway, which if you are not local I need to explain is NOT the kind of road you really want to walk on.

Fortunately, there is a sidewalk–on the wrong side, naturally–and we were able to find a safe way to cross the highway.  We trudged doggedly up the hill and then crossed back over to the park entrance and finally made it to the car.  Y’all, we had walked FOUR MILES.

We drove straight to Weigel’s and bought Icees and much water, which I actually poured right on my head.  I apologized A LOT for my poor leadership skills.  But it was an adventure!

Read more of our summer adventures below!

Why We Can’t Have a 70s Summer and What We Are Doing Instead

The Summer Fun Continues . . .

More Summer Fun

Summer Fun Update

Summer Fun:  Vacation

That 70s Summer

In Which I Grow Lazy

Exploring History

I have a large intimidating binder and a husband who is a lawyer to bring with me to IEP meetings.  I send emails to teachers, I have conferences with the principal, I advocate relentlessly even when it makes me uncomfortable.  I have become THAT MOM, and I don’t care if people at school don’t like me as long as they accommodate the needs of my brilliant and quirky son.

He was out of the ordinary from the moment of his birth.  He didn’t walk until 17 months, and didn’t get into trouble the way his big brothers did.  He had a vivid imagination, spending months at a time insisting that he was a pirate named Captain Cutler (one of many identities he assumed), and once scandalized a patron at the local Shoney’s who asked about the stuffed ostrich he was carrying by announcing: “It is the Ostrich from Hell.  Its name is Blood.”

Read the rest at Not So Formulaic.

 

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