Posts from the “Roar” Category

Between Brock and a Hard Place

Posted on June 5, 2016

The other day I posted a photo of Briar and Finley on Instagram hugging it out, but what you didn’t see was the crumpled face of  Finley in tears of regret and the jutting chin of indignation and righteousness on Briar. Their emotions were justified, but absolutely counter to everything I want for my family. I did not give Fin a pass for being mean, I did not deny Briar her resentment. We all suffered through it and emerged on the other side.   One of the hardest things about parenting (I reserve the right to change my answer down the road because I know experiences change our views) is watching my kids suffer for the consequences of their actions. I do not believe that my job…

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My Vote

Posted on April 19, 2016

On Tuesday September 4th, 1984 I was 11 years old. My babysitter Allison Dodge took me to a rally in downtown Eugene to see Geraldine Ferraro. I had grown up in a family deeply invested in social justice, with my grandparents campaigning, contributing, and passionately advocating for everything from women’s rights to the plight of farm workers to student activism. I remember my mom hissing at a broadcast of an interview with Phyllis Schlafly. Ultimately, it wasn’t so much the issues that I was being taught, as it was the idea that we have the privilege and duty to use our voices and our hearts to make the world a better place. Every time we don’t act or speak up, we are not carrying our weight. As…

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Not Like That

Posted on March 6, 2016

I was sitting in civics class my senior year of high school. My teacher said, “Amanda, looking hot as usual, I see.” I was mortified. I slunk out as soon as the bell rang. “See you tomorrow, Amanda,” he called drawing my name out long and slow. I held on to my backpack strap with one hand and wiped my other on the frayed edge of my cut off jeans to wipe away the feeling of his stare. Later I was told by an adult, “He’s entitled to say that. No harm.” Guess he didn’t mean it like that. Three months later I stood in a line for the bathroom at a party about four blocks from my house. I had not had anything…

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Compassion’s Lace

Posted on February 1, 2016

My phone doesn’t work well in the cold, something about the combination of the cold air and my poor circulation makes trying to do anything pointless. If I am out in the snow with the girls I have to think ahead if I want to snap a picture or be able to respond to a call or text. It’s not complicated, neither is my ability to muster flexibility and patience. If I wear myself out or if I don’t speak up my capacity to operate from a place of acceptance or openness shrinks. It doesn’t matter how often I hear the saying about putting your own air mask on first or that you can’t accept love from others unless you first love yourself, somewhere…

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The Color of Can

Posted on December 6, 2015

    We’ve been talking a lot about what we want to do—on every level from being a sixth grader with classmates who are moving faster or acting mean to being the youngest and still wanting to play with toys, and as business owners looking down a new year, or as spouses still wanting to spark, and then at the simplest level of self. What makes you happy? What’s missing? If you could create any scenario, what would it be? I’ll admit these are things that I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. I have always felt like I didn’t want things as much as other people. I have had teeth-gnashing envy of people who know what they want. I want that.   “All…

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