Telling the stories of everyday people
Because every life has worth
Regina has taken up residence in places where she is most definitely needed, but not necessarily welcomed. A legally blind muslim woman who takes part in local politics and is active in her community especially in her advocacy for minorities takes a certain chutzpah in today's American life
"Was that an alcohol problem or just typical stupid teenage behavior?" I asked trying to clarify.
"I think it's a little bit of both," came her answer, "I eventually got to a point where I was drinking because of my problems and not because I wanted to have fun. I was pretending I was a normal person and not an alcoholic…”
Warning: graphic photo included
He's from Davenport, Iowa - you know, that part of the state that, when viewed on a map, looks like a nose - but, he's called Rochester, MN home for the past 17 years. And, he's an actual writer (whereas I'm a hack of a writer) and in our interview he used some really great words like "ostensibly," so I determined to put on my big-girl writer pants and not screw this up.
I've worked a lot of non typical, "tough," and physically demanding jobs and usually to obsession. And, despite the tough work I've had in my life being a mom requires way more hours and hard work than any other job I've had. Plus, I'm the only person I know who prefers Keystone Light to most other beers. And, I'm not afraid to admit it!
Here's the backstory for the song, "The Dumas Hotel." My great-aunt Ruby Garrett was the last madam of The Dumas Hotel in Butte, Montana. Not only that, she served two prison sentences; one for manslaughter in 1959 and the other for tax evasion in 1981.
We have just a little spot with only 5 Acres. It's not a lot, but it's enough for us. It's kinda like that sign at Jimmy John's, "The gap between more and enough never closes," or something like that. A person always wants more, but it's nice to be happy with what you have.
This is totally off the cuff, but our modern-day doesn't really value doing without or sacrificing, broadly speaking. Whereas a hundred years ago it was the way people lived and the way they made things work; they went without.
Being a correctional officer isn't being some sort of big brute tossing people around. It's having sympathy and empathy. It's former detainees coming up to you in the street and saying, "Thank you for the respect you gave me...I've turned my life around." It's people that go back into the community to be productive citizens - that's what being a correctional officer is all about.
Brian didn't live past 25, and I'm going to be 35. I have already lived the sort of life he never got to live. He never got married, he never had kids and he never left Illinois. I'm married, have a daughter and I've lived lots of different places. Because he didn't get to do these things I'm going to do them and I have done them.
In 2001, Jessica arrived in Rochester via Winona after graduating from Winona State University. Growing up in Chicago, she loved the city life, and never imagined she would grow roots in a town such as Rochester, but she and her husband have learned a valuable lesson in what it means to create the kind of life you want to live wherever you are.
Mamisoa blesses our community with her rich heritage of faith and family while living our her passion for marginalized people through her heart of peace.
Anissa was only in her mid-30's when hypertrophic cardiomyopathy began to thicken the wall of her heart. Anissa became so ill that walking small distances exhausted her. Her liver and lungs were also failing as a result of this genetic condition.
If you've never thought about organ donation, please consider this an invitation to do just that.
"What is the first thing you are going to do when you are released?" I asked her. "Get high," she replied without hesitation.
The first day after he had the ultrasound we were both really shaken up and all I wanted to do was rent a movie, have a bottle of wine and watch a movie and cuddle. The realization that I might not have the rest of my life to do that struck me hard.
"I don't think my dad's death sunk in immediately; not for a few hours, few days, few weeks, few months. I didn't know what it all meant immediately afterward. It was later, at every stage, or event, where he should have been that I felt the impact."
We were gathered around a picnic table on a Sunday afternoon after worship. The bright sun warmed us as we ate lunch. The couple that sat across from me began to tell their story. They were young, hardly out of college, and somewhere in the conversation, I realized they were something very special, indeed.
"Everyone has a story. Everyone has a past. Everyone has difficulties. We have behaviors because something is going on. For those reasons, I try to look at each person as their own unique story while avoiding any judgements."
Becky is a champion of women and moms. She is unequivocally determined in her efforts to connect, support, cheer, and empower women. The impact the Rochester MN Moms Blog has had on women (and men) in our community is nothing short of phenomenal.
Recently, I spoke with someone who has been a wonderful example of what it means to live and age well. She leads, what she would describe, a quiet and unimportant life, serving others in anonymity. However, I have seen her life make a steady and lasting impact.
FROM WHERE I SIT
In this time when great value is placed on physical beauty, unique skills, or accomplishments the result can be that most of us feel pretty common; like there is nothing special about us. Just like a dandelion.
Dr. Jacobson, you are in a unique position to speak into the lives of women. How will you use your voice? Will you use it to feed into negative self-talk and negative body image? Or, will you use it to inspire women to see themselves in the best possible light through positive affirmation and realistic body images?
I would have a (nighttime) dream where I was driving in a car on a busy highway. Usually, I was lost, or unsure of the way....There would always be a feeling that I was out of control. That at any moment the car I was driving would go off the road, or the cars around would hit me, or I would miss an exit or the highway would end.