A Valentine Challenge

 Is there someone you’re trying to avoid?  An acquaintance in the community, a neighbor, a coworker, a friend?  Someone whose political opinion or religious beliefs are different than yours, perhaps.  Or maybe someone from a different socioeconomic status, someone with different cultural/linguistic heritage, someone whose social interactions are very different than yours.  Maybe there’s a family member, friend, or acquaintance with a communication or other disability who you have trouble understanding.  Maybe there’s someone at a street corner asking for help that you often pass by without greeting.

When someone takes us out of our comfort zone, sometimes we shy away from them.  We tell ourselves we don’t have time or that someone else could do a better job of it.  We tell ourselves we’ll connect with them another day.  Just not today, not today, not today.

Let’s make that day today.

Here’s a Valentine challenge for all of us:  Let’s connect with someone we wouldn’t usually connect to.  Let’s spread a little love in the world by making the extra effort.

I know this is complicated during the pandemic.  Here are some ideas to get you started:

~Call a family member you don’t usually call.  Even if they don’t pick up, leave them a message telling them Happy Belated Valentine’s Day or Just Saying Hi.

~Write a handwritten note to a friend you haven’t spoken to in a while.  Ask them how they’re doing.  Let them know you’d love to hear from them and let them know how to reach you.

~If someone expresses something you disagree with, listen to them and really try to understand their perspective.  You can respectfully agree to disagree, and even maintain a good friendship!  Our culture sometimes forgets how important it is to respect people whose opinions are different from our own. 

~The next time you see someone asking for money, even if you don’t have anything to give them, at least say “hi.”  I have heard over and over again that one of the challenges of homelessness is the dehumanization felt when everyone avoids your gaze.  (PS, if you do want to give something to them, try filling a quart sized ziplock bag or a pair of tube socks with essential hygiene items like hand sanitizer, toothpaste/toothbrush, soap, and menstrual pads.  Let the package sit for three days before giving it out so it doesn’t expose anyone to covid.  Use hand sanitizer yourself before a safe, contact-free handoff of the care package.)

~Make an extra effort to smile at people you pass by.  We’re all getting pretty good at smiling with our eyes these days.  (Note:  If you’re not a big smiler, you can do the bro head-nod.  Anything to acknowledge the presence and humanity of another can go a long way.)

~Engage in conversation when you would usually seek a way out of it.  You can do this while keeping six feet distance.  This one is especially challenging for me, because I often find myself in a rush to move on to the next thing.

~If you have a family member, friend, or acquaintance with cognitive or communication difficulties, I just posted a handout ofCommunication Tips.  If you find this handout helpful, feel free to share these tips with other family members or friends.  It can feel lonely to experience cognitive and/or communication difficulties, so let’s reach into that loneliness and facilitate positive connections.

~As a bonus challenge, I encourage you to support an organization that facilitates human connection.  How you support them is up to you—whether it’s a five-dollar donation or offering to volunteer or something unique to you!  Look for local, state, or national groups that support education, health, and wellbeing, especially among populations who are often disadvantaged or overlooked by the system.  Supporting equality facilitates human connection in a positive way.  If you want some recommendations, last summer, I posted alist of some empowering organizations.  But I encourage you to find organizations on your own.  Check with your local library for suggestions.  Do they know of a group of English language learners who need conversation partners to practice their English?  Do they know of or offer classes for citizenship?  Do they know of local education initiatives or environmental impact initiatives?  (You’d be surprised how much the environment affects equality!)

 

Happy Valentine’s Week.  Let’s spread the love, one human connection at a time.

Honor the Process

Each year, I ask the Lord to give me a word to bless the new year.  (Yeah, I'm cheezey like that.)  I was reflecting and meditating with a dear friend on New Year ’s Eve, hoping (as always) for a really positive word heralding achievements and abundance.  Alas, this year, I received a challenging phrase:  “honor the process.”

"Dude, that sounds like some sort of hippie dippie mantra" I thought.  "Are you serious?"

I’m pretty sure He’s serious.

I am not really into “honoring the process.”  I like my results to be fast and measurable.  I’m the kind of person who writes things like “brush teeth” and “finish to-do list” onto my to-do list, so I have something to cross off.  

This is going to be rough.

My patients and their families also express frustration when “the process” doesn’t seem to have a steady upward trend.  “I could to this yesterday!  Why can’t I do it today?”  “Why can’t she just learn this?”  “Why is this week worse than last week?”  I can definitely relate to this impatience, although my struggles are very different from their struggles.

A very wise person shared something with me, and I’m going to share it with you:

Progress does NOT look like this:

True progress looks like this: 

We have to get through the “bad” days to move forward. 

What does this look like?  Accepting when our progress looks like the clichéd one step forward, two steps back.  Allowing ourselves (and others) to mess up.  Practicing patience with ourselves, others, and God.  This is easier said than done, especially in a society that is obsessed with productivity and optimization.

This also means we should be kind to ourselves when we aren’t practicing patience.  Learning to “honor the process” is a process.  (oooh, meta)

I’m including a full page printout of the graphs above in the SLP tab.  SLPs and other therapists, I encourage you to give these to your patients.  The wise sage who taught me about what progress looks like gave me permission to put this printout on the website.

How our insults betray our prejudices

Name-calling and shame-labeling are popular today.  From major media to comedians to kids on the playground, insults are tossed back and forth like dodgeballs. 

The insults we choose reveal who we disrespect.  I’m not talking about the targets of the insults but rather the descriptors used.  If we say “that’s so sexist,” we are disrespecting the practice of sexism.  Seems reasonable, as long as we don't use the word lightly. 

If we say “that’s so gay,” we disrespect gay folks.  Uh-oh.  Now we’re disrespecting a group of people—the LGBTQA+ crowd.  That isn’t OK because it dehumanizes gay/LGBTQA+ folks.  I don’t care what your views on LGBTQA+ issues are:  it is never OK to dehumanize a group of people.  Everyone has dignity and deserves respect.

You know what I still occasionally hear as an insult, usually uncontested?  The word “retarded” and its ilk.

On the radio, a prominent politician called their political rival a “low-IQ individual,” the sneer in his voice evident over the radio.

I heard a hospital employee refer to a coworker’s mistake as “retarded stuff”—in front of a patient with a newly acquired cognitive disability, a sensitive nature, and perfect hearing.

This is also not OK, folks.  Using “retarded” and related words as a catch-all derogatory term betrays our society’s lack of respect for individuals with intellectual/cognitive disabilities.  When we hear such language being used, we should educate others about how dehumanizing it is.  And we can provide a model for how to provide appropriate criticism.  The insulting words are just a symptom of a deeper problem.  The best way to stop using dehumanizing language is to change our hearts.

Having intellectual/cognitive disabilities does not make someone inferior.  It’s a clinical condition that isn’t even easy to diagnose.  Intelligence is multifaceted and occurs on a complicated sort of spectrum.  And it changes over time.  Having such a disability says nothing about a person’s moral character and is not a chosen condition.

One of my friends self-identifies as being “mentally retarded,” as this was the diagnosis she received in her childhood.  ("Retarded" used to be a common clinical term but has fallen out of use because of its use in insult.)  How do you think she feels when she hears someone say “that’s so retarded” or “you’re so retarded” in an insulting manner? 

Just as with sexual orientation, race, etc., we should not be using “retarded” as a derogatory term.

When we hear such words used inappropriately, we have an opportunity to speak out in a way that can inspire positive change.  If you hear someone using an insult that dehumanizes others, I encourage you to educate that person.  We don’t have to shame them because as Brené Brown, PhD, LMSW says, shame is not an effective tool for social justice.  We can politely tell them that the language they used is hurtful and ask them to stop using those words as insults.

One of the most effective ways for us to effect change in our culture is to model a way of speaking that doesn’t dehumanize others.

Insults that dehumanize people with intellectual/cognitive disabilities use clinical and semi-clinical terms like “retarded,” “special needs,” “resource,” “low-IQ,” “disabled,” etc.  We should refrain from using these terms outside of their clinical context, where they are not used as insults. 

But what about more subtle forms of insult like “slow,” “stupid,” “dumb,” “idiotic,” “imbecilic,” “foolish,” or “unwise”?  Some of these terms are more emotionally charged than others.  Some of them refer to a specific group, like “slow” as a substitute for “retarded” or referring to someone with slower processing time.  “Dumb” traditionally referred to someone who couldn’t speak, perhaps because of an expressive language disorder, but that meaning has been more or less replaced with the same meaning as “stupid” in the common parlance.  How careful should we be with terms like these?

The waters are muddied by this:  it’s important to judge the wisdom of our own (and sometimes others’) choices.  I tell my rehab and executive function patients all the time to evaluate their decisions carefully and learn from them.  An unwise decision with unwanted consequences should be labeled as such to avoid the same mistake in the future, and a wise decision should be labeled as such to encourage similar decisions in the future.

So when is it appropriate or inappropriate to use these non-clinical words?  I’m not trying to be the PC police here—I’m legitimately asking the question.  I’m not really sure where to draw the line.

Maybe instead of drawing a line, we should re-align our hearts.

Let’s stop treating perceived intelligence like moral superiority.  There are plenty of good people who make unwise choices and plenty of good people with low IQs and plenty of good people who are intellectually or cognitively disabled.  And it’s not a sin to be wrong, to make mistakes.  In our current culture, this is radical.

So let’s be radical.

When we stop treating perceived intelligence like moral superiority (and lack of it as moral inferiority), we stop dehumanizing people with intellectual/cognitive disabilities.  We won’t use intelligence words (clinical or not) to label a person in a derogatory way.  And when we criticize actions, we will use words that are NOT emotionally charged.  Yes, even when we’re angry.  Because being angry is not an excuse to dehumanize others.

If we re-align our hearts, we won’t have to think about it.  When you are angry, do you have to think about whether or not you use racial slurs to insult someone or something?  I hope not!  Do you have to think about whether or not you use the word “gay” to insult someone or something?  Again, I really hope not!  So let’s give our brothers and sisters with intellectual and cognitive disabilities the same respect we know we should afford to others.

Let’s value everyone’s dignity.  When we change our hearts, our tongues will follow.

Redefining Independence

I frequently tell this parable to my patients.  And honestly, I think I could stand to listen to it myself:

Bob was driving to work when his car stopped.  Bob valued independence above all else, so he decided to fix the problem himself.  He opened the hood of the car and tried to determine what had gone wrong.  It was hard to see through the thick smoke, but Bob kept rummaging through the parts of his car until he found an open flame.  Bob’s hands were badly burned and he fell backward in surprise, injuring himself further.  Bob had to go to the hospital.

Was Bob really independent in this story?  Of course not.  Injuring himself and putting others at risk was not true independence.

Paradoxically, to be independent in this circumstance, Bob would have called the fire department and eventually a mechanic.  To be truly independent, he would have relied on someone else’s help.

Our society seems to think “independence” means doing things on our own.  Anyone who can’t is seen as weak or inadequate.  This attitude is pervasive and has been around for generations—I can even hear it in my geriatric patients’ turns of phrase.  So often, my patients express to me that they feel they are “a burden” to their families for needing so much help.  And I myself fall prey to this lie as well. 

I’ve read enough mommy bloggers to know that a woman is supposed to be able to flip gluten-free pancakes in an immaculately kept kitchen while changing her baby’s diaper with one hand, keeping her toddler out of trouble with another, and helping her first grader with his math homework.  So when my menstrual symptoms affect my balance and I can’t even walk the dog, or I’m overwhelmed with house chores and work, or I need help processing my emotions, or I just can’t seem to do it all on my own, I feel inadequate.  I feel like I've lost my dignity, however briefly.

Maybe we all need to redefine “independence.”

True independence means taking charge of our own safety and using our resources.  Sometimes that means asking a friend or family member for help when we’re overwhelmed.  Sometimes it means making sure someone is with us when we get out of bed so we don’t fall.  Sometimes it means going to a support group or attending therapy.  Sometimes it just means using a walker or safety device.  True independence is different for everyone and changes over time.

I’d like to hear that again, because I’m prone to comparing myself to others.  In fact, I’m going to let Mneme, the Muse of Memory, repeat it for us so we can commit this to memory:

 

Thank you, Mneme.

Once upon a time, when I lived briefly in a barrio in the Caribbean, I encountered a family who seemed to really get it.  In this family, there were several family members with disabilities—some children, some adults.  All the family members helped each other out—nieces and aunties, mothers and daughters all worked together.  Now, that’s not to say there wasn’t suffering, and it’s not to say it wasn’t frustrating.  But as a team, they overcame many more obstacles than any of them could have overcome alone.

We can all learn from this family. 

Many of my patients’ families are similar to the family I just described.  They rely on each other.  I have so much to learn from their bravery, compassion, and healthy interdependence.  I hope to accept help with humility and to stop judging myself for relying on my support network.

I’ll leave you with a quote from the old Claymation Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer:  Let’s be independent together.

*

I’ve put a new handout in the SLP freebies section.  It’s a simple text-only motivational poster that’s good for SLPs, patients, and everyone else.  (It’s a little wordy, so probably best for higher level patients, especially those with lack of insight into deficits or who are feeling really discouraged.)  Click here to download the handout.  Feel free to modify however you want.  Please print and distribute freely.

Let's rely on our strengths and resiliencies

As a speech therapist, I am sometimes tempted to focus only on improving my patients’ deficits.  After all, isn’t that what rehabilitation is about?  Fixing “broken” communication, “broken” cognition, a “broken” swallow?

 

This happens with writing too.  Growing up, I always thought that the best way to help a friend to better their story/poem/essay was to bleed red ink all over the page, pointing out what doesn’t work so they can fix it.

 

And don’t we all do this to ourselves sometimes?  Pull out the red pen, evaluate our shortcomings and limitations, focus on the "bad parts of ourselves" so we can become better, kinder, more efficient?

 

What if it’s just as important—maybe even more important sometimes—to acknowledge and nurture our talents and resiliencies?  Of course we must acknowledge our mistakes, shortcomings, and weaknesses.  But what if shift our language—what if we call them "challenges" instead—calls to action instead of traits we're stuck with?  Maybe we have the ability to overcome these challenges—or find a workaround or at least make some progress—by relying heavily on our STRENGTHS.

When I evaluate a patient’s language, thinking, and swallowing skills, I am sure to discuss their troubles with them.  But now I’m making a conscious effort to also tell them and their families about what they do really well too!  Maybe their memory isn’t working the way they want it to (a challenge), but they’re awesome at paying attention, which is going to help them to use their memory strategies.  Maybe they can’t swallow water well right now (a challenge), but they have a strong cough so we can work with that!  Maybe they have trouble focusing (a challenge), but by golly they are motivated and have a positive attitude.  Maybe they have a LOT of challenges, but their support system is working for their good.

 

Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, authors of the Welcome to Night Vale podcast and various spinoff novels and podcasts, emphasized once that in writing, a more motivating and helpful way to critique someone’s work is to point out what is working really well so they can bring out more of those aspects in their work.

 

Maybe this could work on a societal level.  When we encounter a negative societal behavior, like racism or sexism or selfishness or unwilling-to-listen-ness, first we must of course acknowledge the problem.  This takes work.  And obviously, merely acknowledging the problem is not enough—we must face it and work to overcome it.  So what's the next step?  

To face these problems, we can draw on our collective compassion and kindness as a society to work to overcome those obstacles.  By exploring and utilizing our positivities, we can fight our societal problems.  Will we ever truly overcome a societal weakness?  Probably not entirely, but a positive human trait I believe in strongly is perseverance.

This is something that I find so encouraging about the Black Lives Matter movement—I'm hearing a lot of rhetoric that readily acknowledges that we are going to make mistakes.  Everyone does.  It's uncomfortable to learn that we've made mistakes, but the emphasis is on apologizing and learning how to use our humility and kindness to do better.  Learning about our mistakes and weaknesses is not about shaming us—and it never was.  It's about creating positive change.  For a really genuine and heartfelt conversation about this, I recommend listening to Brené Brown's conversation with Austin Channing Brown on the podcast Unlocking Us.

 

I’d like to apply this principle to my own life, and I invite you all to as well.  I make TONS of mistakes—maybe even in this post you have found some mistakes.  It's easy for me to dwell on them without moving forward.

So here is my resolution:  when I recognize or am told that I’m behaving impatient or interrupty or selfish or racist or small minded or making silly mistakes or being ignorant, I’d like to label my predisposition toward a “less than ideal” or even just plain "bad" behavior as a CHALLENGE rather than a failure of character.  This way, I can be motivated to change my behaviors in the future.  If I don’t identify with my undesirable behaviors but instead see them as obstacles to overcome, I give them less power.  I’ll probably never be perfect at facing any obstacle.  But I can keep trying.

And how do I face these challenges?  By using my virtues and resiliencies to face the obstacle.  I strongly believe that all of these strengths come from God.  And He is bigger and stronger than any obstacle or challenge I could ever encounter.

 

 

Thanking the Whole Person (and a medical SLP freebie)

Whenever I wipe poop off a bottom (or a toilet, or a wall), I make a mental note to say something extra positive to our nurses and sanitation staff.  Sometimes it takes a big mess to draw my attention to the ones who do the most thankless tasks.

Well, we’re in a big mess right now, and our attention is drawn.  

The Paradox of Pascha during Quarantine (formatting is fixed now I hope)

It seems like Pascha (Easter) has come too soon. Near-empty churches are decked in white; we sing that God has trampled death.  But the death toll is still great, and we continue to make sacrifices to protect the vulnerable.

So what happens when the Paschal season begins in the middle of the world’s suffering? What happens when Easter is celebrated at home, without the physical sacrament of Communion or the comfort of family members’ hugs? What happens when Easter is celebrated with a very calculated budget because of job loss? What happens when Easter is celebrated after the death of a loved one that cannot even be commemorated with a funeral? What happens when Easter is celebrated in a hospital room, grappling with new disabilities and unbearable pain, alone because visitors are not allowed?

Helping myself (and my patients) to grow: Treatment vs. Evaluation

I often set expectations for myself and fail to meet them:

~I want to wake up earlier.  But I continue to go to bed late.  

~I want to pray more.  But I fill my life with more and more distractions.

Of course I am not making changes if all I ever do is “check in” with myself, evaluating and re-evaluating without providing solutions.  

This reflection is *not* about self-optimization.  It’s about growth and self-acceptance.  It's difficult to grow as a person without lots of reminders, or a structured organized foundation for change.  If I “fail” to change, there is no need to shame myself—that’s just a sign that something isn’t working yet. 

As usual, I need to learn from my patients.

True Love: a Valentine's Day reflection

I have seen in the movies and read in books that true love is about finding joy in each other, about holding hands and giving roses and writing love letters.  I have heard in wedding speeches and sermons that true love is about staying faithful even when it isn’t fun. 

I believe that both of these are true.

And I have seen second-hand that true love is often about wiping dirty bottoms, and spoon-feeding, and encouragement to try one more time, to get up for another day.  True love is about staying faithful even when someone’s personality changes after a brain injury or during the onset of dementia.

This Valentine’s Day, I am reflecting about what I have learned about true love from spouses who take on the role of caregivers—and spouses who take on the role of patient.  Neither role is chosen, but when embraced, both teach us about true love.

Being Intentional (with an SLP freebie)

Many patients are surprised that my cognitive therapy sessions don’t involve logic puzzles or crosswords.  With me, cognitive therapy looks a lot more like intentional planning for daily life.  Most of the time, the “strategies” I suggest to my patients are practical habits such as repeating new information to themselves, using reminders in their environment, or making sure to double- and triple-check their work.  “But I already do those things,” they protest.

“Of course,” I reply, “these are normal ways of learning and remembering.  But as your body and your brain are healing, you may find you have to be more intentional about doing things that once came naturally or automatically to you.”

Maybe the same is true for soul-healing.

Liking my patients, my loved ones, and myself

Some days, I just don’t like myself.  From the outside in, I notice plenty of flaws.  I have acne, my hair is a wild mess, my posture is slouchy, my attitude is grouchy, I’m impatient and rude and arrogant—and I make plenty of mistakes. 

So I remind myself that even if I’m not likeable now, I’ve got potential.  I’m just in the caterpillar stage.  Someday, I’ll be a beautiful, virtuous butterfly.  I should like myself for my potential…right?

That’s not what Mr. Rogers says.

What determines your worth?

Society has attempted to answer this question in a variety of ways, defining a person’s worth by wealth, social class, language, skin color, education, intelligence, strength, bravery, wisdom, kindness….

Although such attributes can describe a person’s experience, descriptions do not define worth.

You are much more than your attributes and your experiences.

Moving Forward Without Looking Back: Neuroplasticity and Hope

“When will our lives be back to normal?”

This is probably the most common question I receive from patients and their families.  I usually dodge it:  Instead, I estimate the timeline for reaching the patient’s goals and establishing a daily communication (or eating/swallowing) routine.  Because honestly, what is “normal”?

This isn’t a pithy rhetorical question.  Does “normal” mean following an established pattern with the resources you have?  That can start during the recovery process, although there may be great suffering in it.  Does “normal” mean a predictable life with no obstacles?  I can confidently say that will never happen.  What was expected yesterday may not be expected today.  Yet this clinging, this preference for the past over the future, is common.  We long for the security of the known.

How can we shift our expectations to allow for the changes that are happening in our lives?  How do I, as a therapist, talk about moving forward with my patients—and with myself?

"What do you do?" Shifting our small talk

In the United States, our small talk is very direct.  After asking someone’s name and maybe where they are from, the next question is usually, “What do you do?”

In a culture that defines a person’s worth by their productivity, it can feel very vulnerable to say you don't have a 9-5 job.  This subject can feel especially raw for people with newly acquired disabilities that precipitated a career change or an early retirement.  

Even for the traditionally employed, this question can be daunting.  Brené Brown, who researches the human condition, wrote about this in her book The Gifts of Imperfection:  “Most of us have complicated answers to this question.  For example, I’m a mom, partner, researcher, writer, storyteller, sister, friend, daughter, and teacher.  All of these things make up who I am, so I never know how to answer that question” (page 114).  While the roles I fill are different than hers, I can still think of a long list of words to describe myself, most of which aren’t career related.

No matter our state of life, the question “What do you do?” can tempt us to oversimplify our self-worth.  To this predicament, I offer three solutions to help us begin to value ourselves differently.

The Power of Praise: Research-based ways to Encourage and Empower

Sometimes, I fail.  I don't finish my daily to-do list.  I overcook dinner.  My words fall flat, or worse, hurt someone’s feelings.  Too often, my response to myself is harsh:  I’m lazy, I am not a good cook, I’m a bad communicator.  My failures define me.

Conversely, when I succeed, I own a success as if it is a part of me.  I am a great planner, a gourmet cook, the next Madeleine L’Engle.

Praising and criticizing myself for my innate abilities can create the illusion that my successes and my failures define me and determine my worth.  That’s a lot of pressure!  Also, I am reinforcing the idea that my successes and failures are due to innate abilities, which are difficult to change. 

The good news is that our dignity is inherent, no matter how talented we are (or aren’t).  And we do have the power to try again if we want to.  So how can we use our words to remind ourselves—and others—that our successes and failures do not define us?  How can we use our words to encourage each other to keep trying even when things don’t work out the way we hope?

Stop Striving and Start Thriving (with feeding resources for families and SLPs)

Stop Striving and Start Thriving (with feeding resources for families and SLPs)

It’s easy to believe that if you provide the perfect care for your family, you can raise kids who never get sick, have genius IQs, perfect skin, perfect behavior, and amazing athletic abilities.  But is all of this optimization actually best for the children in our care?  I have seen too many parents in tears because they feel they are somehow failing to provide their children the “optimal” experience.  But what if what’s praised as “best” by society isn’t actually the best option for everyone?  What if by working so hard to meet a perceived societal standard, we are actually distracting ourselves from the ways we can thrive in our own unique situations?  And what if to thrive, we have to let go of control and allow ourselves to rely on tools, resources, and others’ helping hands?  

If you feel insufficient, it’s because we are all insufficient.  God doesn’t expect us to do everything on our own, or even to do everything an exact specific predetermined way.  He asks us to rely on His help, often offered through others, and sometimes using surprising resources.  And there are some decisions with neither a right nor a wrong answer.  What matters isn’t that your life looks optimal or perfect.  What matters is that you can find ways to thrive in whatever situation you are in.

To consider the many kinds of resources and choices God provides for us, let’s take a closer look at feeding kids. 

This is Who I Am: an interview with my friend Sydney

"This is Who I am and That's How it's Gonna Be”

An interview with my friend Sydney

My friend Sydney always has something helpful to say when I most need to hear it.  Sydney and I met as coworkers at a pediatric clinic.  The more time I spent with her, the more I learned about her courage and positivity.  Sydney is athletic, courageous, funny, and charming.  She is a great movie buddy—we love watching movies like Wonder Woman and Star Wars together.  Sydney is also very open about her experiences growing up with and living with an intellectual disability.  The other day, I invited her to share some tea and popcorn at my place so she could tell her story.