There is something powerful and beautiful about a well-told story. Some of my favorite memories as a little girl were listening to the stories of my grandmothers, aunts, and mom. What experiences formed and shaped them, how they became the women they are today; questions like these always left me wanting to learn more from and about the women I most admire and looked up to in my own life.
Enter the documentary The Girl Inside.
This new mini documentary gives viewers a heart-wrenching and heart-warming glimpse into the lives of a group of women awaiting sentencing at Cook County Jail in Chicago, the largest single-site jail in the United States. Through these women's stories, filmmaker Kate Bryan, in partnership with production company BEHOLD, expands on a theme of Bryan's 1 Girl Revolution podcasts: the truth that every can make a difference with her life.
Sadly, the voices of incarcerated women are often overlooked or not considered as valuable or important. With the numbers of incarcerated skyrocketing in the United States - the population of incarcerated women has increased by more than 700 percent over the past 40 years - there is a desperate need to educate, empower, and help women heal in the prison system.
The documentary follows incarcerated women as they participate in a life-changing academic course taught by Dr. Laura Biagi, an interdisciplinary voice artist and teacher whose work focuses on teaching others to use their voice for personal and social change. Through "Storytelling as a Healign Art" class, the students learned about the power of every person's voice and then Dr. Biagi led the women through a series of storytelling exercises and vocal warmups.
The culmination of the course and documentary comes when Dr. Biagi gives the women a writing prompt, "I am your voice, and this is what I want you to know . . ."
The vulnerability, hope, and empowerment these women share by their own voices and stories is transformative and beautiful to behold.
Read the rest over at Verily . . .
I recently shared that my Dad is dying. Our family is navigating the painful reality of watching my Dad slowly decline of a disease similar to ALS.
For the last few months, my siblings and I take turns helping care for my Dad on the days my Mom is working. It is equal parts sacred and sad.
Several weeks ago, I began to pray a short prayer as I drove to my folks house on the days I would help care for Dad.
Jesus, help me be a good Simon.
Simon of Cyrene, the man we know little to nothing about from Scripture. We know he was in Jerusalem for the celebration of Passover. We know he was with his two sons Rufus and Alexander. We know he was chosen at random, an innocent bystander, to help Jesus carry his cross on the way to Calvary.
A man we do not know much about, and yet, he played such an important role in the final hours f the life of Jesus.
I have thought a lot of about Simon over the last few months as Dad's health declines and he is able to do less and less for himself.
In what is hard, painful, and scary in watching my Dad suffer, I can ask Jesus to help me be a good Simon to my Dad during his own passion and suffering.
I am Simon when I help my Dad wash his beard and hair because he struggles with bathing himself more. I am Simon when make sure Dad has all his medicines and daily pills.I am Simon when I validate his feelings and emotions when he is struggling and feeling overwhelmed.I am Simon when I help Dad get up from his chair, pick him up from PT, or help him put on his compression socks.
I am Simon whenever I show up to be with Dad in his physical and spiritual suffering.
Jesus, help me be a good Simon.
I don't when or what propelled me to start praying this prayer on my way to go visit or help care for my Dad. However, it just seems to fit.
Like Simon, I have no control over the situation regarding my Dad's health and rapid decline. Simon had little say in the matter of being pressed into service carrying the cross for Jesus.
Yet it was in this random chance surprise of encountering the suffering Christ, I like to think Simon was radically changed by helping Jesus carry the cross.
Similarly, I believe that I am being changed by being a Simon of Cyrene to my Dad in his own suffering.
While this is sad and hard at times, it is also beautiful and sacred.
Walking this journey of suffering and death with my Dad reminds me how little control I have of the situations around me and outside of my own experience.Even though some days it is scary and overwhelming, I know God is near and present.
So no matter how long the time is left I have with my Dad, the prayer most frequently on my lips is, Jesus help me be a good Simon.
2020 has been a hard, heavy not just for some, but in many ways, for all of us.
I have been feeling the impact of some heavy things in my own life over the last few months.
Even though I have very frankly told Jesus I cannot handle one more heavy hit in my life, I know something sacred is going on. Life can be hard, yet holy.
My Dad is dying. Our family is celebrating our last set of holidays with him this year.In July, he was diagnosed with a rare neurological disease similar to ALS. Since then, his health and physical abilities continue to decline. We know it will only get worse from here.My siblings and I each take turns working remotely on days my mom works so my Dad will have someone to help care for him.
It is both devastating and sacred, sad yet holy. Please prayer for my Dad (his name is Deacon Kevin Breen) and our family as we walk this road of suffering and pain with him.
I am grieving the loss of my Dad as I know him but also the losses which I will experience after he is gone. He will never see me get remarried someday. He will never baptize anymore of his grandchildren or meet any of my babies.
I am so grateful for the time we are savoring and soaking up as a family as I balance caring for my own emotional and spiritual health during this difficult time.
Hard yet holy.
About five weeks ago, I broke up with my boyfriend. Looking back, I made the best decision for myself in true peace and freedom. I think in all honesty, I saw it coming on certain levels. We ended things amicably, but in the end, there were certain things I began to realize and experience that would not be good for me longterm.
I am getting back into dating (whatever that looks like during a pandemic!?) in a way that feels healthy and empowering for me. I have been on a few dates including two over Zoom, which actually were more fun than I anticipated.
I know what I want and need in a relationship. I know what I deserve, am worth, and am not willing to put up with. Jesus, can we please have three times be the charm meet the right man for me? You cool with that? Thanks.
Hard yet holy.
A writing project I was hoping would turn into a book deal with a well known Catholic publisher was denied. It was such a disappointment to receive, but I do believe the writing samples I have are a story that needs to be told. Just because this publisher did not want it, does not mean it will never be published.
Because these holidays will be our last with my Dad, all the more reason we safely and carefully got together. It was a special yet bittersweet day. We enjoyed a delicious meal. My BIL made a bonfire outside and we opened the door so my Dad could enjoy it all bundled up. We enjoyed our family tradition of watching Die Hard with our dessert.
There were hard, painful moments, but also moments of laughter and joy together. The day after Thanksgiving my brother, sister and nephew, and I came over to help my parents put up their tree and decorate for Christmas.
No matter how hard the holidays will be this year, I am so grateful we have them this year.
Hard yet holy.
Work is well and I am excited how our RCIA program is going so far. I am looking for some new opportunities to freelance write but nothing new has turned up yet.
I am honestly not looking forward to Advent and Christmas this year. I feel frustrated and sad when Advent is all about waiting for the coming of Jesus, and what am I waiting for? Well, I am waiting for my Dad to die.
I had this thought earlier today: Advent could still be a sacred time, even I don't really like or feel close to Jesus right now.There is something there but I am not sure yet what it is.
Hard yet holy.
Maybe there are parts of your life that feel hard and heavy.
I have a lot of feelings these days on lots of different things.
But even the hard is holy.
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