A short clip of me speaking to a Cultural Anthropology Class at Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, LA.
Often when I speak I talk about the importance of capturing your family history, your genealogy and stories. These are most times the most precious information for the family genealogist. Personally, I never have really enjoyed the countless hours in libraries and courthouses searching through records, probably from having to do it so much against my will as a child. (Hope my Mom doesn’t read this ) I learned more from listening to my parents talk and laugh with their friends and family and swap family news and stories. My Dad’s constant, “Oh Janet, you know who I’m talking about!”, when we really have no idea. He thinks everybody first name is whatchamacalit!
What I truly did enjoy were when Mom and others started gathering oral histories. Simply at first with a small tape recorder and cassette tape and now I visit with my Flip Camera and digital recorder always. Those tapes of people talking about their life as a child, their friends, what school, dating and working was like. You can close your eyes and picture yourself there, living that life right alongside them. You are able to truly connect.
Think about how valuable that piece of video or recorded voice is when that person leaves us. They leave their legacy and their story, and it’s your job to pick it up and carry it on. You have the tools to not only do your genealogy in the simplest terms, but to learn about the great people who came before you, your family story, draw a line from one person to another that created a family link. Then take that link and find out the story that lies on that line; perhaps it’s a love story, a story of sorrow or triumph. Find out, do your family research, find the story that lies on the lines.
I’ve had the same pair of boots almost four years now. I was sitting outside watching the boys play and I had my feet crossed and looked down at my boots and I started thinking about what each scuff, stain, missing piece of leather and crease was. My boots and I have been through a lot in the past four years.
These boots walked over fresh turned over dirt that I was getting ready to form up a slab on for a new home for someone. These boots built over sixty homes, the permanent dried concrete and paint from many walls is proof. There is a chunk missing out of the top of my right boot where the brick landed on my foot that day. I loved every unbelievably hot, exhausting moment of it. The art of creating, building a home for someone, building a holding tank for memories.
My boots
These boots and I walked through swamp grass knee high after Hurricane Ike devastated Cameron Parish again. My boots protecting me from the hundreds of snakes, huge red ants and an assortment of other misplaced creatures searching for home again. We went to the church the Bishop had just blessed that we rebuilt from Hurricane Rita and it was destroyed again. Father and his parishioners holding hands with red eyes and voices that could not speak but only point to the destruction that the rising waters had once again left behind. My boots and I ran into the seniors at S. Cameron High School sad once again. They had only attended twelve days of school as Freshman before Rita took their school away and only attended fourteen days of school as Seniors, the first year they would attend at their school in their hometown and it was gone again. We opened the gym door to find the floor rolled up against the wall and slammed it shut when the huge alligator slid from underneath the destroyed bleachers. These boots and I catching tears and promising to work hard to give home, school and stability back.
These boots packed me up and moved me back home, rode horses with friends, helped clean out horse stalls and cut grass. These boots kept my feet warm and dry in the Louisiana snow, helped carry my boys over muddy driveways and through too tall grass. We worked side by side with my Daddy cleaning out the Badin-Roque House, sweeping out the dirt floor and watching the dust of hundreds of years of stories and secrets settle on the top of my boots.
My boots and I walked through the wet, messy ashes of my home. Sitting here now I can see the white and gray streaks of ash that have settled in the creases of my boots. We walked through what was left touching the walls that still stood, dusting off picture frames hoping the picture was still intact, but they weren’t. Digging through what was left hoping to find something, anything. Again my boots caught tears, those of mine and Landon, as I held my sweet six year old boy and he cried with so much pain and loss. All things happen for a reason, nothing is just because, it’s all part of our pre-destined lives and our individual story. My boots carry many stories and I’ll keep them forever to never forget all the good and remember the bad and how it was overcame. These boots and I just keep climbing back on top of the rubble literally and figuratively and they’ll catch the tears, hold the stories and keep me warm, dry and standing tall on two feet.
What is underneath me? I just can’t seem to get comfortable. The late summer cold had me feeling terrible. I finally succumbed to it and went home early and got in bed, fully medicated with a good book and a glass of juice. But I just can’t seem to get comfortable lying on my side. Why? Is my cell phone underneath me or maybe I rolled over on the TV remote. Nothing there. Well what is that? Maybe my shirts bunched up so I reached to smooth it out and felt something. I felt something hard and odd shaped and it’s not my shirt, not a bunched up sheet but a hard sore knot in my right breast. I rolled over on my back and felt again and it’s still there, but it’s large oblong shaped not a knot but a lump. I stared at the ceiling thinking a million thoughts all at one time; the fear, uncertainty and morbid curiosity had me stunned for a moment. Then the journey began.
Over the next several months and three doctors later I went on a roller coaster ride of oh it’s nothing to I think we need to do more tests. The first doctor said, “It’s just hormones, it’s nothing don’t worry about it”. So I didn’t. Then it got bigger. The second doctor said, “Well that’s troubling, maybe we should run tests”. And I’m thinking let’s do it soon, who knows what that could be. Then the ultrasound and seeing this lemon shaped “thing” on the screen. It had many arms and legs and had settled quite securely and firmly in the upper part of my right breast along with six other small lumps and five in my left breast. I walked out of the hospital hands shaking and called my Mom to say, “Oh it should be ok it’s no big deal”, but scared to death.
I started thinking about my future, about my children, how would I survive, how am I, a single Mom, going to afford this. What’s going to happen? Why is this happening? A few days later the nurse calls and says it’s benign and everything looks fine come in for a check up in a few months. I did the happy dance all over the house, down the driveway and in the street. Relief, happiness and thankfulness. I told my friends and family and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief. I thought back on my fears and told myself you still need to make plans who knows what the future holds.
A week later my doctor called and said, “Tracey, I’m disturbed by your ultrasound. I had two other doctors review it and I think you should go see a surgeon as soon as possible”. What? But I was told everything was fine, I mean I did my happy dance! Its now mid October and I thought my roller coaster had stopped but I was really only at the highest hill and about to fall, screaming down the other side. I went to the surgeon, more tests were ordered and another appointment made. The worry, fear and uncertainty monsters were haunting my dreams and every thought. Then I got the call that my best friend, the closest thing to a brother I ever had, was gone. I raged and screamed and cried and my heart broke over and over again. Why? Why are all these things happening! I needed you and you left me! But that’s another story.
Immediately after surgery
A week after the funeral I went to the doctor again. It was a Thursday and he said we’re going to do surgery on Monday; it’s got to come out. I was used to my “lemon lump” as I now called it. I slept on my left side, guarded my right side and tried to ignore it. I was scared and worried. But I prayed. I prayed for me, for my boys, for my friend and for peace. I didn’t plead or beg. I just prayed. The surgery went fine and uneventful. I now have a two-inch scar on my breast; a battle wound my sister called it. I went home and lay in bed sore and mad. Mad at everyone and everything. The phone call came two days later. I was terrified to answer the phone; office hours had long since passed so why was the doctor calling so late. Is he really going to tell me this on the phone? How bad is it? Answer the phone Tracey, the other side of my brain said and I did. He said, “It’s benign, you made it through this one, we’ll watch the others and rest up. I told you it would be ok.” I hung up and lay there with tears rolling down my face; this feeling was more than my happy dance or a celebration.
I called my parents, told my babies and I breathed. I breathed. I cried and I breathed for the first time in a long time. My every thought, goal, wish and dream are different now. I pray for breast cancer patients and survivors everyday. I am amazed by their resilience and strength. I want to help, I want it to go away this horrible disease. This disease that robs women of their breasts and femininity. This disease that comes with radiation and chemo and stress and worry. This disease robs husbands of wives, children of mommies and parents of daughters. It doesn’t have to, be proactive and be a part of the cure. Participate in the Susan G. Komen walks and raise money for research. Support the work done in the medical world to save our sisters and prevent this from happening. I was lucky. I will have an ultrasound every six months for the rest of my life but I’m healthy and I’m so grateful and thankful. Please help give Breast Cancer a voice don’t wait until it happens to you or those wonderful women in your life you hold close to your heart.
My goal is to write and blog everyday this year. Will I have 365 things to talk about? Maybe, or perhaps it will just be a short ramble, a reminder to myself that I’m still here. I want to look back at the end of the year and truly remember what happened. Remember the things that were significant, chronicle my successes as well as my failures. Everything you write doesn’t have to be a great or amazing piece of work; it can be short or long as long as it’s something.
I want to become a great writer, a writer that is read by many, many people. I want to write about real things and be honest and different and totally me. Unencumbered my any restriction or rules, my words are mine alone and do not reflect the opinions of views of any one individual, group or entity except for myself. It’s exciting to know I will have freedom in expressing my own words, the script of my life.
There will be 365 stories, my stories, from the past, present and hopefully what I envision for my future. I will tell you the stories that have formed me, the stories that taught me those life long lessons you never forget. The stories of definitely what not to do and those stories that I wish I could relive again and again. The names of the innocent will be protected so there’s no cause for alarm. I know there’s a book somewhere in all these stories and I want to find that book this year and put it on paper. So I’ll blog about it first and I hope you travel along with me on my journey, give me feedback, tell me what you felt and motivate me to finish my 365 days of writing and find that book at the end of this rainbow we’re on right now.
So its 1/1/11, interesting isn’t it. Seems like you should be doing something profound, making a huge change or starting a new project. Well you really should be. I have challenged everyone to DO something in 2011, make your resolution not be about ridding yourself of your “haters”, because well that’s impossible or the extent of your “doing” being deleting people off of your friends list on Facebook. How about truly doing something? Do something that is actual and tangible. If your resolution is to “start over” or “be different” you’re setting yourself up for failure.
Thinking about setting goals? Do it!
Make a goal and complete it, “starting over” isn’t a goal, it’s a vague statement. What does “starting over” mean to you, what things would you like to do differently in your life that would constitute “starting over”, how will you know when you have truly “started over”? Envision your new beginning and each thing you would like to do or be within that. Take those things and turn them into goals, more importantly make them SMART goals.
I am a strong believer in SMART goals, if you don’t have a life coach or a good strong mentor, a SMART goal can be that voice urging you on to the next step. SMART goals are Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic and Timely. It is a way of thinking out and writing down your goals and making them work for you, it’s also about making YOU work for YOU! Use SMART goals to “start over”, your new workout plan, your new volunteer schedule, getting back in school, selling your house, moving etc.
Be honest with yourself in this process, be realistic in what you can really do, don’t ever make a goal something that’s impossible to do. A goal is not “I’m going to be rich”, making a SMART goal means you list all the things that YOU have to do to achieve that goal and making each one a goal. I’ve added some links with different templates of SMART goals for you to use.
Be realistic in setting your goals or resolutions. Set yourself up for achievement and greatness, track your progress and share it. Pick a goal that you wouldn’t mind sharing on Facebook and have your friends inspire and motivate you through the process. You’re not alone and your goals aren’t unreasonable, so DO it! Good Luck!!
http://www.goal-setting-guide.com/goal-setting-tutorials/smart-goal-setting – This is a great, easy to read guide to using SMART goals
http://www.joesgoals.com/ – A free goal tracker to help you track your progress
Today it ends, the first decade of the new millennium. It has been a decade of upheaval, hope, loss, fear and power. Everyone makes resolutions for the New Year; does anyone make them for the decade? Do we stop and reflect and remember the decade or do we only think about our own personal lives, goals and wants. We unfortunately live in a society focused on instant gratification, “me time” and the unending, callous road to success. I encourage you to take ten minutes, one for every year of this decade to remember.
This decade has been tumultuous both in my personal life and for the world as a whole. My ten-year journey has brought me from being a single twenty-something to a divorced single mom thirty-something. The fall of the twin towers happened four days before the excitement of giving birth to my first child, my son. The strange feeling every time a plane was heard flying over the hospital and realizing the loss and devastation so close to home and wondering at the miracle of the birth of my son and the tragedy at the loss of so many other sons.
The wars came, the capture and execution of Saddam Hussein, understanding the mind and hatred of Osama Bin Laden and the seemingly endless hunt for him. And the fighting, how long have we been at war? Seems like forever with more and more days of newscasters claiming yet another day as the deadliest for our American soldiers. Hopefully at the end of the next decade we can speak of global peace and not global fighting. The loss of so many lives over opinions, religious beliefs and the much sought after power.
Nature has not been kind to us either, the tsunami in Indonesia, earthquake in Haiti and the life changing hurricanes that bullied Louisiana. Katrina devastated and shocked us; I was sitting at home on that day just three hours away. The sun was shining and a breeze was felt and it was almost incomprehensible that this was happening to friends and family, to people I knew. Then it happened to me. Two weeks later Rita sought us out and changed everything. I often tell people that to explain the fear, anxiety and sense of loss that you feel as you try to decide what can I live without, what can I take and knowing the clock is ticking and it’s time to run, that feeling is unexplainable. I came home to a home with trees lying across it and destruction everywhere like a huge giant had lain down on our city. But we Louisianans are strong people and we persevered.
Then hope came, a new President, our first black President. We CAN do it and we did. The prayers and wishes of so many were answered. He fights every day to make people remember that it takes a lot longer to undo a problem than to create it. But the fact that he’s there means so much. It means we are on the cusp of ending “isms” that equality and true freedom is so near. Silencing the naysayers left and right as Generation X rises to the top.
This decade brought us Facebook, YouTube and social media. Our society is uber-connected we live in the mundane facts of other peoples lives. We meet our spouses online; find our classmates, lost loves and new friends. We can become celebrities while hiding behind our computer screen; everyone can be a producer, a singer, and a star through posting videos on YouTube. We have to have our cell phones within arms reach at all times and meeting a new person goes something like, “Hi, what’s your name? Are you on Facebook?”
Music, movies and television evolve daily and it seems like we’re always behind. We are all obsessed with reality shows from cooking, to dating, to auctions, to families we’ve never met and people we would never want to be but we obsessively watch and chat, text and Facebook about it. This is our “reality”.
We’ve lost great people. Michael Jackson was the soundtrack of my life and now he’s gone, the other soundtrack to my life Al Metoyer of Big Al and the Gators left me too. We have lost friends and family, mentors and teachers, remember them. I lost my friend, my brother, my protector Chad and learned that nothing is definite.
In this decade I was married and divorced. I know have two amazing sons, the most incredible people in my life. I fell in love, real all consuming love and I lost it. I found new friends, made new friends. I realized who I am and all the things I want to be. I was a construction worker, a manager, a speaker, a writer, an activist, a realist, and a believer.
My challenge to you is to DO SOMETHING! Stop wishing, stop talking about it, stop complaining about it and do it. This decade has if anything shown us a million ways we can be involved, help someone is hurting, fight for a cause and truly make a difference. We CAN do it! Find your inner bravery and remember this decade and write down all your memories of the next. Blessed be…
What is a love story? They so rarely end in those knuckle to mouth, hand over heart, tears rolling down your face moments at the end of movies and books. A love story is not about beauty, flowers and romantic words. It is about a fierce battle of wills, emotion and real human opinions and reality.
The battle is fought on the toughest battlefield, modern day America, the time of courting, manners and civility is gone. Promiscuity, image and rudeness prevail and there are no clear battle lines or even sides to be taken. There is almost no cover, obstacles are everywhere and there is the constant threat of stumbling and falling. Obstacles come in the form of financial disputes, distance, work stress and the constant effort to “keep up”. Then the stumble and fall, communication is almost non-existent and real, intelligent, thoughtful conversation turns to specific questions and short answers. But the battle rages on.
The enemy becomes distorted and changes in appearance and skill. The armor is laid down, truces are made and alliances formed. Enemy is no more and the adrenaline rush of the battle turns to the warmth of love, intrigue and attraction. Small skirmishes happen but in an effort of understanding and acceptance. The battle is quiet now and is moved right the battlefield. But the battle rages on.
Over time acceptance begins to falter and crumble, lines of communication are broken and the battle wounds become life threatening. The scar tissue from the wounds grows bigger, the separation gets larger and farther apart. Then the decision is made to retreat or forge on. Retreat to fight new battles or continue to fight for the love story. Sometimes in battle your adversaries become your lovers, those that have stood beside you that know your history sometimes become your greatest love. Wounds can be healed, acceptance can be found amongst adversity. Love is worth fighting for the battle shouldn’t stop because of many defeats. The key is that there is never a winner, but many winners.
Warriors should not compromise their strategy or the reason for the fight. Although compromise and sacrifice must be made when treaties are created. Disallow spies and traitors in your camp, fight fair with integrity and value and be diligent and genuine. The love story can be written and completed and victory can be achieved. Bring chivalry back.
) I learned more from listening to my parents talk and laugh with their friends and family and swap family news and stories. My Dad’s constant, “Oh Janet, you know who I’m talking about!”, when we really have no idea. He thinks everybody first name is whatchamacalit!
