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On August 15, we celebrate one of our Holy Days of Obligation: the Assumption of Mary. “What is the Assumption of Mary?” you might ask. It is the doctrine that teaches that both Mary’s body and soul were assumed (or taken) into Heaven. In 1950, Pope Pius XII affirmed this dogma in Munificentissimus Deus (“The Most Bountiful God”).

Understanding the Assumption of Mary

Pope Pius XII explains that the Assumption is tied to the Immaculate Conception (Munificentissimus Deus 4). He writes, “She [Mary], by an entirely unique privilege, completely overcame sin by her Immaculate Conception, and as a result she was not subject to the law of remaining in the corruption of the grave, and she did not have to wait until the end of time for the redemption of her body” (Munificentissimus Deus 5).

A result of original sin, our bodies decay after death while our souls (hopefully!) go on to eternal life in Heaven without them until the resurrection of our bodies at the end of time. Because Mary was preserved from sin from the moment of her conception (the Immaculate Conception), she is excluded from the curse of original sin. As a result, her body was not bound to decay. Pius XII does not specify whether or not Mary died before being assumed into Heaven, but he does proclaim that Mary’s body was not subject to earthly corruption due to her lack of original sin and, therefore, its consequences (Munificentissimus Deus 14).

Why the Assumption Matters For Us Today

The Assumption of Mary is rooted in the tradition about the dormition of Mary (the death of Mary or her “falling asleep”). This moment is important because it symbolizes how we will all die as part of our human mortality (Dictionary of Mary 102).

In her death, Mary models for us how to die well: After following God’s call for our lives, we can die in faith knowing that death is not the end. We will rise again with Christ in the bodily resurrection of the dead. Mary’s death brings into focus the resurrection that awaits us all as believers. Because she is united body and soul in Heaven, Mary is the model for how all of us are meant to share in Jesus’s resurrection.

As believers, we long to be reunited to Jesus Christ in Heaven. After Mary’s Assumption, her faithfulness to God was fully honored when her Son crowned her the Queen of Heaven (Munificentissimus Deus 40). Her death was a necessary step towards her role as an intercessor. In Heaven, Mary now prays for us and acts as the Mother of the Church, continuing to guide and care for the Church as a whole and each believer individually (Redemptoris Mater 44-47).

We too will be glorified with Christ, if we die in faith like Mary. The Assumption of Mary is a great opportunity for us to reflect on our own faith and how we can better follow God in our lives.

I have been following the #freeBritney movement since the beginning of the year, but I was as shocked as most people when I read Britney’s full statement against her conservatorship. In particular, I couldn’t believe that Britney wasn’t allowed to remove her IUD so that she could grow her family.

In a conversation with friends, we all expressed our fear that this case will be foundational for future cases, opening the possibility that women with mental health problems will have their reproductive rights taken away.

But as I did more research, I was shocked to learn that this type of reproductive coercion is already common for women with mental illness and developmental disabilities. In fact, Britney’s case is only one in a long line of state-sponsored sterilization.

As explained in “America’s Hidden History: The Eugenics Movement,” Indiana was the first state to pass sterilization laws in 1907. A quarter of states had passed sterilization laws by 1914, when Harry Laughlin created the Model Eugenical Sterilization Law. This law proposed the sterilization of the “feebleminded” (as the law itself states) and those that had physical and mental defects. Eventually, 32 of the 50 states passed forced sterilization laws.

Then came the 1927 Supreme Court decision, Buck v. Bell, which made sterilization federally legal. The Virginia Sterilization Act of 1924 allowed for sterilization of a mental institution inmate, Carrie Buck. The court found this to be constitutional because it would prevent the nation from “being swamped with incompetence […] Three generations of imbeciles are enough.”

There is a long history of eugenics that perpetuates the ideology that disabled people should not or cannot give birth or raise kids. During my research into the American eugenics movement, I was proud to see that the Church was a constant opponent to sterilization. In An Image of God: The Catholic Struggle with Eugenics, Sharon M. Leon explains that this is because Catholics regarded (and still regard) three principles as fundamental: the “sacredness of the individual,” the right to marry, and the right to parenthood. Forced sterilization violates all three.

The Catholic Church successfully blocked the passage of sterilization laws in large portions of the Northeast, as well as in Minnesota, Illinois, Arizona, Wisconsin, New Mexico, and Louisiana. There was a lone dissenter in Buck – and he was the only Catholic Justice. In an editorial in America after Buck v. Bell, the author stated that “our objection is based on the fact that every man […] is an image of God, not a mere animal, that he is a human being, and not a mere social factor” 

I’m sure it’s no surprise that Catholics were heavily involved in public policy debates over reproductive issues. Yet since the Church is most known today for battles over contraception and abortion, I expect that fewer people realize how pivotal American Catholic opposition was in preventing the advance of eugenics in a number of states. The Church’s stance on sterilization, abortion, and contraceptives are all consistent with our respect for life and basic human rights.

Buck v. Bell is still law today, which means that mentally ill or disabled people continue to have little control over their reproductive health – even over their bodies. As Elizabeth DeLoria shared in a chain of tweets, “One of the first things that happens to people with psychosis is that they have their reproductive rights taken away” She explains how getting a Mirena IUD was a bargaining tool for her to be released from inpatient care. 

As a woman with a current diagnosis of anxiety and a history of depression who would like kids, this terrifies me. Yes, I can still work, communicate effectively, make decisions, post on social media, etc., but that is not the point. As the Church tells us, we should never frame reproductive coercion in terms of whether someone is mentally ill enough to “deserve” being sterilized. Every single person should be granted the rights of personhood.

The #FreeBritney hearings have revealed shocking details about Britney Spears’ conservatorship. One of the most painful was that she has been forced to use an IUD against her will.

Spears asserted, "I wanted to take the IUD out so I could start trying to have another baby. But this so-called team won't let me go to the doctor to take it out... I deserve to have the same rights as anybody does by having a child, a family, any of those things."

Pro-Life and Pro-Choice Communities React

Spears’ heartbreaking claims of reproductive coercion outraged pro-choice and pro-life activists alike. And in Congress, proposals to reform conservatorship laws to prevent this type of abuse have elicited bipartisan support, from Elizabeth Warren to Ted Cruz.

An alliance between the pro-life and pro-choice lobbies, two tremendously powerful groups, would offer unparalleled opportunities to effect change. But it seems that both sides are too mistrustful of one another to harness this power. Instead, each side has accused the other of hypocrisy and disingenuousness, as well as exploiting Spears’ suffering to promote its own agenda.

Reproductive Coercion Deserves Our Attention

However, the issue is too important to get lost in the abortion debate. Of course, it’s not just about Britney Spears. Countless other people - especially enslaved, indigenous, immigrant, and incarcerated women - have suffered from reproductive coercion throughout history through rape, medical experimentation, and forced sterilization. Even more distressingly, iterations of these practices continue today.

Many times, this reproductive coercion is legal. For example, there is no federal oversight of reproductive, prenatal, or postpartum health care for incarcerated women. In many states, these mothers give birth while shackled to their beds, and infants are often taken away to foster care as soon as 24 hours after birth.

Similarly, as in Spears’ case, disabled adults in conservatorships can be legally stripped of their right to make decisions about their own bodies and families. The ACLU explains, “[T]here are untold thousands of people living under this same type of restrictive structure, who have lost their rights to reproductive freedom, often permanently.”

Let’s Work Together to Fix It

Reproductive coercion is a grave issue: it prevents people from making their own choices and disrespects the dignity of life.

What if, instead of doubling down on our differences, the pro-life and pro-choice movements came together to advocate for this area of mutual interest? And what if, in doing so, we built alliances that we could use to fight for other shared priorities? Both sides have become so hyper-focused on debating the legality of abortion that we’ve neglected other important priorities, many of which we have in common.

Those who are pro-life desire a world that is more hospitable to families and to life. They want to support pregnant women, low-income families, teen parents, families of children with disabilities, and other marginalized groups, not to mention other consistent life ethic priorities, such as abolishing the death penalty and offering asylum to those in danger. I’m willing to bet most pro-choice people would be on board with these ideas.

On the other hand, those who are pro-choice aspire to empower women to make their own choices. They want better funding for women’s healthcare services like mammograms and better research into women’s health issues like endometriosis. They also want women to have true autonomy to make decisions about if and when they become mothers, free from social and structural coercion (such as poverty and discrimination). Again, these are ideas that pro-lifers also tend to support.

Our country is one of the most inhospitable to pregnant women and families, compared to other wealthy nations. There is so much work to be done and we could have politicians on both sides backing these priorities if the pro-life and pro-choice lobbies both mobilized to demand action.

Many of us have friends in both camps. In a world of echo chambers, it’s rare to have diversity of opinion among close friends. Yet I do, and I’m guessing many of you do, as well. This means that we have a responsibility and an opportunity. It’s up to us to build bridges to do what seems impossible: bringing pro-lifers and pro-choicers together to make the world better for women, for families, and for life.

During quarantine, some of us were working from home for weeks, months, and eventually over a year. Each workday would present unique challenges ranging from setting up our Zoom backgrounds to rearranging our furniture in order to make room for suitable workspace. One challenge that many women faced was setting up boundaries for a healthy work-life balance. As more women prepare to re-enter physical workspaces, how can we strike an ideal work-life balance?

Get Back into a Morning Rhythm

Re-establishing a daily morning routine is key to getting ready to head back to work. Naturally, having a commute to and from our workspaces will require that we once again buffer in preparation and travel time. Here are some steps to restart a morning routine:

Set your morning alarm...again. Practice makes perfect. The sooner you start re-adjusting to your morning schedule, the better prepared you will be for the transition. Whether it is the smell of a cup of coffee or a phone alarm, get back to waking up at your usual time.

Mimic your commute. Whether you have a 15- or 90-minute commute, gradually build the travel time into your morning schedule.

Block out time for prayer and reflection. As you build your schedule, remember to keep some quiet prayer and reflection time. Begin your workday with gratitude by giving thanks for another day, pray for strength to meet today’s challenges, and reflect on what you experience in prayer. If you need some inspiration, check out this morning prayer from The SundayMonday.

Know Your Peak Hours

Do you know the difference between important work and busywork? When are you most effective at accomplishing difficult tasks during the workday?

As author Sarah Green Carmichael states in the Harvard Business Review, we should strive to have “a clear dividing line between important work and busywork.” When you understand your peak hours (your most productive working hours) you can plan your schedule to align with your productivity - and avoid burnout. Off-peak hour activities could include busywork or less intensive work such as going through emails, getting to know your colleagues, or taking a work-related skills course.

Plan Activities for After Work

Setting up work-life boundaries means placing value both in your workday and your after-work life. Entrepreneur Jayson Demers states that when it comes to having a healthier work-life balance, “The key is to do something completely unrelated to work that gives you something to look forward to every day.” When you have a chance to unplug and put the work assignments away, look to your favorite hobbies or visit places that bring you comfort.

During quarantine, social media was flooded with people trying new recipes or showcasing views from their latest hike. Are there any hobbies you’ve picked up while in quarantine? Plan your after-work schedule to include activities that bring you peace or energize you. When the going gets tough, that after-work activity you plan will be the light at the end of the cubicle tunnel.

A physical therapist I worked with said to me once, “Do you want to know the secret to being an Olympic athlete? Pick your parents wisely.” His comment may have been intended as a little tongue-in-cheek, but he had a point.

Genetics do not determine an Olympian’s abilities. There are other important choices that must be weighed and measured. Sports psychology, nutrition, cross training, stress management, lifestyle habits, recovery strategies, and raw talent are just a few of the components that go into making an Olympic athlete. Throw in discipline, courage, perseverance, and a whole lot of guts and you’ve got a recipe for greatness. 

It’s easy to compare our own athletic abilities, or lack thereof, to Olympic athletes and think, “I could never measure up to even one tenth of their greatness!” But isn’t that the point? We watch these incredible athletes in event after event and every time we are in awe of their skill and technique. We think, “How amazing are human beings that they can accomplish this?” 

You and I may never know the kind of worldly glory an Olympic gold medalist achieves, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have our own glory to chase and medals to win. We are all given unique talents, coaches, and the right DNA to run our race. It’s what we do with all those gifts that determines the outcome. 

We don’t see all the hard work that goes into an Olympian’s training, from day one to the games. What we see is the grand finale that culminates in their moment of “no guts, no glory.” I can imagine every Olympian’s goal in that moment is to give it his or her all. In my own experience as a competitive Irish dancer, I remember the biggest reason for disappointment and regret in my performance was knowing I walked away without pouring everything out. 

The Olympics isn’t about feeling incompetent in our own skin. It’s about aspiring to something fantastic. It’s about pooling resources, gaining support from an entire team, and believing in something so unbelievable that it doesn’t seem real when you accomplish it. 

The best Olympic athletes undoubtedly utilize all the tools they have to accomplish their dreams. We can take a cue from them and do the same.

I see the Olympics as a parallel of the spiritual life.

Our raw talent is our unique gifts and personalities, given to us by God at birth.

We may not have sports psychologists, nutritionists, or performance coaches, but we have the saints guiding us. If you don’t already have a connection to the saints, how about starting with your Confirmation saint? Do some research about his or her life and imagine how this saint might coach you in the faith.

Our version of sports psychology is God’s Word encouraging us. Why not look up the Mass readings for the upcoming weekend and spend some time reflecting on how they apply to your daily life?

Our cross training comes from friends and family who challenge us to grow. How can you pray for a friend or family member? Can you ask them to pray for you in some way?

Our rest and recovery can be a quiet moment of prayer. If you’re not in the habit of regular prayer, can you try to pray for a few minutes every day this week?

Our Olympic games aren’t just one event - they are our whole lives.

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God doesn’t ask us to all give the same. He’s not calling all of us to the Tokyo games. However, He does ask that we give our all. When we finish our race, I hope we can honestly say that we utilized our talents, took every opportunity to grow, and welcomed challenges that pushed us to be courageous. Whatever our calling is, let’s not hold back.

While COVID brought a lot of changes and challenges to this school year, it will still be counted among my favorites because it’s the year that I got to teach my dream class. I created an elective for the seniors at my all girls’ high school on the vocation and theology of women. It’s the class that I wish I had in high school. It’s the class that covered the things I never formally learned in either of my theology degree programs. It’s the product of my own research and learning and belonging in communities such as FemCatholic.

After three years of pitching it, enough students finally showed an interest and so, this past January, we embarked on the journey together. After seven years of teaching from an established curriculum and framework, I had to come up with the objectives, benchmarks, readings, and topics to cover. I warned them at the beginning of the semester that the idea for this class lived in my head and would unfold as we went along. They were genuinely excited to be treading with me into these new waters.

I divided the course into three units: the true (theology), the good (social justice issues), and the beautiful (women’s gifts and leadership). Our main text was Pope St. John Paul II’s apostolic letter Mulieris Dignitatem (On the Dignity and Vocation of Women) and, most of the time, the course was driven by their questions and contributions to discussions.

Here are 3 things I learned from teaching this course and from my students.

1. Read what the Church actually teaches.

As with many topics, there is the impression of what the Church teaches, and then there is what the Church actually teaches. Like many people, my students came in with a view of an outdated, at best, and misogynistic, at worst, institution that thinks that women are second class citizens who are supposed to sit quietly and have all the babies. A few mentioned that they were ready to spend the whole semester arguing with me about all the ways that the Church was wrong about women and was holding them back.

In response, we spent the whole first quarter (8 weeks) reading through Mulieris Dignitatem, slowly working our way through it section by section. Their favorite part? The section about the treatment of women in the Bible. We talked about the awesome women who helped move salvation history forward in the Old Testament, such as Ruth, Judith, and Esther. We worked our way through the Gospel passages in which Jesus interacts with women, and we discussed his radical treatment of them for his day. We talked about Mary’s role in the Church and how it looks more like the medieval icons of her punching the devil in the face than it does the silent, pious woman holding her hands in prayer (although she does lead us in prayer). They were surprised to find a tradition that held women in vital roles throughout salvation history. 

[My students] were surprised to find a tradition that held women in vital roles throughout salvation history. 

Having this background in mind made the hard teachings easier to discuss. When we read an essay by Sr. Sara Butler on the all-male priesthood, my students’ previous work discussing the Gospels came in handy when talking about Jesus establishing an all-male priesthood. It was easier to understand in light of knowing how Jesus loved, empowered, and trusted women with so many other tasks. He made them prophets of the Resurrection, but not ordained priests. It was easier for them to process this mystery after having worked their way through what the Church actually believes and teaches about women, their role, and their equality in dignity. 

2. The importance of active and empathetic listening.

In a world in which people are so quick to cut someone off so they can insert their own opinion, holding a space for real dialogue is essential. When it came to hard or controversial topics like maternity as part of the feminine genius, birth control, and modesty and purity culture, my students wanted a space to share their bad experiences hearing about these topics and to have someone truly listen to their concerns.

One goal within our department is to create a space for our students to know that they can ask their questions, bring up their disagreements, and wrestle with Church teaching. Our hope is for them to know that part of the process of growing in faith is questioning and wrestling with doubt. The world sells a version of feminism that pits it against the Church; either you’re a feminist or you’re religious. Our other senior course is on the relationship between faith and science, which also tries to dismantle the false dichotomy that pits science and reason against faith. The way to do this is to create an environment in which students feel comfortable with their struggles, doubts, and questions.

Our hope is for [students] to know that part of the process of growing in faith is questioning and wrestling with doubt.

Having a representative of Church teaching (in this case, their teacher) actively listen and take their thoughts, concerns, and questions seriously, allows them to recognize that there are a myriad of ways in which their personal beliefs about women actually align with Church teaching and that they can reconcile the two in their personal feminism. The best part of this approach has been giving them the tools, resources, and space for discussion so that they think critically along the way to this reconciliation.

3. The importance of diversity.

These students are coming of age during a time that is constantly calling for social change. They get that social justice work is important and that there is a clear need to fight for all human dignity to be respected. However, a lot of their understanding has trickled down through social media activists rather than the Church teaching. Many of their questions and points of disagreement usually came from a place of intersectionality. They want to be able to talk about the particular struggles of women of color or of lower socioeconomic status, and how their challenges go beyond just being women. They recognize the problem with viewing things through an exclusively white feminist lens and they hunger for a feminism that represents all women. We looked at every social justice issue in our course from an intersectional lens and constantly came back to the goal of Catholic Social Teaching: Working to create a world in which every person’s dignity is respected and all people have the ability to flourish. Emphasizing that their concerns are Catholic concerns helped them begin to reconcile their personal feminism and activism with the call to build the Kingdom of God on Earth according to the Gospel. 

One of their assignments was to lead prayer by presenting on a female saint. During the first round, I assigned them the saints mentioned by Meg Hunter-Kilmer in her FemCatholic Conference talk entitled “The Wild Diversity of Catholic Femininity.” The goal was to introduce them to the rich diversity of the feminine genius in the lives of women whose holiness can’t be argued.

Want to talk about how mothers shouldn’t work? Talk to St. Gianna or St. Zelie about it.
Want to shame women with a sexual history? Talk to St. Mary of Egypt or St. Margaret of Cortona.
Want to say that women are to be meek and humble? Talk to St Joan of Arc.
Want to say that women must be conventionally beautiful? Talk to the newly canonized St. Margaret of Castello.

In the beginning, the terms “feminine genius” or “true femininity” meant something particular to my students: it was a specific box that many of them didn’t feel like they fit into. Their presentations allowed them to see that there is no box or checklist for the perfect Catholic woman. To live out the feminine genius is ultimately for them to be their authentic selves as they use their gifts to live out the call God has them for. As a Church, we must do better in presenting this “wild diversity” to give young women a model of what their seat at the table can look like, as unconventional as it may seem.

[Students'] presentations [on diverse saints] allowed them to see that there is no box or checklist for the perfect Catholic woman.

Overall, the class went well. As it always goes, we didn’t get to cover everything or go into as much depth as I would have liked to. The most important lesson that I learned is the need for this class. Girls and young women want to learn more themselves and to share this information with others. They want people to know that there is compatibility between Catholicism and women’s issues. They want to share the true Jesus who loves women and the Church who is called to support women, albeit as a continued work in progress. A fire has been lit in them - and they want to take it into the world and set it ablaze.

My students dug into an understanding of what a genuine Catholic feminism can look like in the face of the countless versions that they will receive as they head into college. They’ve been given the tools to examine the world more critically and hopefully to bring about true justice, one that elevates, supports, and advances women as women. My hope is that they hear the words of Christ in Mark 5:41 as a call to action: “Talitha koum [...] Little girl, I say to you, arise!”

If a friend tells you she had an abortion, how would you respond?

As Catholics, we might fall into the trap of assuming that, because Church teaching is opposed to abortion, Catholic women do not have abortions. However, this assumption is incorrect. According to the Guttmacher Institute, 25% of Catholic women have had an abortion. We need to be aware that there are women in our parishes who have had an abortion - and we should be prepared for conversations with them.

Here are six ways you can effectively walk with a friend if she talks to you about her experience with abortion.

1. Support her as she processes her experience.

Every woman has a story. She has a unique experience with particular challenges and circumstances. Listening can be the start of healing because putting an experience into words is powerful. Receiving your friend’s story can help with her healing process. While she shares her story, avoid jumping ahead in your mind to think about your response (“What will I say?”). Give her your full attention.

Part of receiving her story might be to acknowledge the complexity of what happened. The decision to have an abortion might be tangled up with several factors that remain difficult to this day. Even if she says, “I couldn’t have done anything else,” there can still be a lot of emotions - and perhaps conflicted feelings - to unpack. Sit with her in her emotions and allow her to process.

Finally, remember that you can’t “fix” the situation - and that’s okay. Your friend knows that you can’t change what happened. If she wants to tell her story, she knows that all you can do is listen. Neither of you can change the past.

2. Avoid loaded words such as “trauma” or “grief.”

Your friend might shy away from technical, loaded terms like “trauma” or “grief.” She may not identify her many emotions as grief or think of her experience as a form of trauma. Let her put her own words to her emotions.

Similarly, avoid explicitly mentioning “the baby.” Your friend might feel so overwhelmed at the experience that she cannot even think of the baby. She might not be in an emotional state that allows her to reflect on the child that was aborted. Don’t assume that she has thought about this aspect of the experience before. Receive the thoughts she is currently having about her experience without pressuring her to think about the child involved.

3. Recognize that you will have your own emotional reaction.

When your friend tells you that she had an abortion, you might feel a range of different emotions. Allow yourself to feel your own emotions, but don’t project them onto your friend. She may or may not resonate with the emotions that you feel. When your friend tells her story, try not to let your emotions get in the way of supporting her and listening to how she feels.

Your emotional response is valid and needs to be acknowledged. If you feel upset or disappointed, that is a valid reaction. You may need to process your own emotions later, perhaps through journaling or prayer. 

4. Check in with her.

If your friend tells you that she is having a hard time with her abortion, ask her if you can check in with her occasionally. Just because you discussed it with her one time does not mean that she is now completely fine. She might encounter many reminders of her experience and might like to have support. For example, the anniversary date of the abortion might be a hard day. Ask her, “Around this time next year, can I check in with you?”

Make sure she understands that you are here to listen if she needs it, but, if she does not want to talk about it, that is fine, too. Let your friend know that she does not have to suffer alone. You are there for her whenever she needs your support.

5. Don’t pressure her to act on her past experience.

At this point in the conversation, your friend might not want you to recommend any resources for healing. Organizations such as Project Rachel exist to help women process and heal from their abortion, but your friend might not be interested in them. All she may want is your listening ear. Be open to how listening to her can aid in her healing.

Healing is a need in and of itself without the pressure to do anything with that experience. Your friend might want to seek healing for herself without sharing her story with many others. Sometimes, people who are pro-life may want to pressure women to open up about their abortion experience and become involved in advocacy work. However, not every woman will want to do this. Pro-life advocacy is a special calling that not every woman wants to pursue. She might seek this out for herself, or she might only want to talk with you. Allow her to decide.

6. Place your trust in God.

It is a sacred time when we have the opportunity to listen to someone’s story. When your friend decides to confide in you, pray and ask the Holy Spirit to work in that moment and bring healing to her. Ask the Holy Spirit to guide your response. God is always present with us and He often helps others through us. You can’t fix everything, but you can trust God to do the work of healing and restoration in your friend’s heart.

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There’s a G.K. Chesterton quote I think of often, especially since becoming a stay-at-home mom: “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” Only have time to sweep half the floor before naptime’s over? Worth doing badly.

“All good things are worth doing badly,” I joked with some Catholic friends when we discovered we had a shared dream, “except leading parish-based study groups on race.”

We wanted to grow in our knowledge of racial issues in the United States and to invite others to journey with us. But the thought of invigorating the worst dregs of Facebook comments, only in person, with people we shared a pew with, was sobering — as was the worse thought of pushing people of color away from our (vastly white) faith community if the discussions went sideways.

I can’t say our resulting conversations were perfect (see lesson No. 4), but in general, I don’t think they went badly. So far, I’ve taken part in and helped lead two groups, one in 2018 and one in early 2021. Both were women only, and most of us were from the same parish. Our first group hovered around 10 to 12 members, including three African-American women. The second group had around eight participants (all of them white except myself). Both groups included the 2018 letter on racism from the U.S. bishops, “Open Wide Our Hearts,” and in the second group, I used the accompanying study guide, which I highly recommend.

Below are some practical lessons I learned from facilitating conversations on race and the Catholic faith, which I offer to anyone who wants to participate in something similar. I know I’m not alone in wanting to raise these issues in our Catholic communities and to discuss racial injustice in light of our faith and tradition of social teaching.

Consider this your gentle nudge to start having these conversations. I’m in no way an expert, and none of our efforts will be flawless, but we can do our best to do them well. This is where transformation and action begins: by opening our hearts to each other and allowing the Holy Spirit to move in our conversations.

This is where transformation and action begins: by opening our hearts to each other and allowing the Holy Spirit to move in our conversations.

1. Race Isn’t a Subject Just for Liberals or Conservatives

In our groups, we had a broad spectrum of political ideologies, from women I doubt have ever voted for a non-Republican to a friend who huffs when she hears, “You can’t be a Christian socialist.” One woman frequents the traditional Mass with Gregorian chant. My co-leader, a musician, incorporates praise and worship songs into her Mass repertoire. What we clearly had in common was a desire to better educate ourselves on the impact of racism in our country’s history and a confidence that the Catholic Church has something worthy to say about it.

On that note, don’t assume everyone is on the same page politically and alienate one side by only using language from the other. Someone steeped in a conservative worldview might feel pushed away if everything is framed in terms of anti-racism, intersectionality, privilege, and the inflammatory rhetoric of the Trump years. Similarly, you’ll turn off left-leaning participants if you save all your criticism for Democratic politicians, “wokeism,” and “social justice warriors.” It’s not that these concepts aren’t worth grappling with — they are, and defining terms is helpful to having productive conversations — but we shouldn’t preemptively burn bridges by deciding which concepts are the most valid, unquestioned starting point. This lesson also applies to the resources you choose to study.

If I could keep coming back to one theme, it would be this: Let people surprise you. The woman you thought was summed up by her bumper stickers might have the most beautiful and nuanced insights on policing or transracial adoption. Let your discussion be a place where people can step out of the ideological boxes we construct for ourselves and step instead into the light of Truth.

2. Come Prepared (and Know What You’re Getting Into)

On the one hand, don’t let “I’m not an expert” stop you from facilitating these discussions. On the other hand, your preparedness can make or break the conversation. Read beforehand. If you’re using the bishops’ study guide for “Open Wide Our Hearts,” read through the introduction, and set aside time to familiarize yourself with the extra resources.

Along with having a basic familiarity with the subject matter, think about how you’ll handle conflict. Differing, heartfelt opinions are inevitable. As a moderator, be ready to steer conversations back on topic and gently hand the figurative microphone over to someone else if one person dominates the conversation.

Know your purpose. If people have different ideas about why they’re there, it quickly affects the group’s unity. Set expectations for tone and content: Is it an informal conversation? A structured study group? Is it mostly about sharing personal stories, or are you doing a deep dive into a writer’s work? Are people open to a hearty give and take, or should criticism be kept to a gentle level? What basic principles are you grounding your conversation in?

Whatever you choose to discuss, when you issue an invitation, make sure the wording gives people a clear sense of what they’re walking into.

3. Be Judicious in Whom You Invite to the Conversation

Yes, every single member of the Catholic Church should be invited into deeper conversion when it comes to racial justice. No, that doesn’t mean you should feel obligated to open your group to everyone who picks up a bulletin and has an opinion on race. It is a sensitive topic that gets at the fundamental question of whom our society bestows worth upon. Opening that conversation takes trust and vulnerability, and cultivating that kind of atmosphere must be a priority when you think of who you want to participate.

I know I’m not called or equipped to facilitate an open, parish-wide discussion on race. But both times I’ve been part of these groups, I’ve issued an invitation to the large, private parish moms Facebook group I’m part of. I know the majority of these women, even if I’ve never had a conversation with many of them that didn’t involve diapers or dinner planning. But, importantly, we all know each other, at least on some basis — after all, we’ve been bringing each other meals after each new baby for years — and it’s enough to think, “I can trust her heart. I don’t know if we agree, but I know she’s coming with good will.”

In other cases, trust has been built over the years through other intimate moments — mourning together over a miscarriage or listening to a friend’s anxieties over her marriage. Often, the willingness to be vulnerable with one’s heart is already there, even if it’s never turned its attention to race. And for the few people I didn’t know at all whom I thought might be interested, I set up some constraints — similar station in life, many mutual friends, etc. — and the rest was up to the Holy Spirit. Try to walk that tension between setting boundaries with your invitations and leaving room to be surprised by grace.

A note on the racial makeup of groups: My parish is very white. I’m Filipino-American, and in our first group, three African-American women participated, all of them knowing they were going into a “Racial Justice and Catholicism 101” situation with a bunch of white women. I know there are arguments for keeping these types of conversations in white-only spaces, and I think there’s merit to them. People of color might not want to spend their time and energy rehashing “But what is racism, really?” with people who are just starting to educate themselves, and it’s especially presumptive to expect that the one Black mom at the parish school should be on deck to provide The Perspective of People of Color. Simply put, there’s also less fear of asking unintentionally offensive questions in a white-only environment.

For our group’s purposes — to educate and, above all, to seek unity through the diversity of the Body of Christ — I didn’t want to exclude our Black sisters. This situation might be similar to yours or not. (And if your local Church circles are more diverse, this dynamic will be different, too). Whatever you do, be upfront with all of your participants, especially those of color, about what to expect (what kind of knowledge base are people working from?). Don’t force them into a corner (“We’re talking about race; can you come share?”), and be gracious in acknowledging that it can be a sensitive situation for a woman of color to share, even — or especially — with her sisters in faith.

4. Be Prepared to Make Mistakes

You’ll put your foot in your mouth. Someone will unintentionally hurt someone else, and you’ll fumble a response. It happens, and it’s awful, but it’s also an opportunity to model the posture you want in all these conversations: humility and listening. Pausing the discussion to apologize in the moment or the next time you have the chance shows others that, when we come to these discussions in good faith, it’s normal to respond to mistakes and correction with grace and humility. This is a great reason to come together in person, if possible: When your thinking is critiqued, it’s harder to stew resentfully when you’re sitting next to your friend instead of staring at her comment box.

On that note, don’t be afraid to say something wrong or ask a question that you fear might have an obvious answer or betray your own bias. It’s why you’re having this conversation — to uncover layers of prejudicial assumptions that have seeped into so much of our culture — and it’s an uncomfortable process. When we come to the conversation with docility — an openness to learn — it also implies a willingness to unlearn, to have presumptions reshifted, even in front of others.

In our last group, one woman who had recently become aware of historic, systemic racism against African-Americans often prefaced her questions with a hesitant apology that she was even voicing a thought that would flare into a social media war if she asked it there. Each time, I was grateful (and told her so) that she asked anyway, choosing vulnerability for the sake of learning. I wanted that space to be safe not only for people who’ve felt the effects of racism but also for people who were sincerely probing their own heart for latent biases and asking for help in the process. (Notably, this was the group that didn’t have any Black participants.)

Finally, it’s OK to not know an answer. If you’re stumped, say you’ll look into a question further, and follow up later. Ask others to join you in deeper research.

5. Give People Time to Tell Stories

I noticed this advice in the study guide to “Open Wide Our Hearts,” and even then, I underestimated how important it is. Even in a structured, formal study group, personal stories bring the human element to an intellectual exercise. Listening to a woman’s experience as she opens up in your living room is what connects discussions of anthropology, history, theology, and politics to the individual persons we’re called to love.

Listening to a woman’s experience as she opens up in your living room is what connects discussions of anthropology, history, theology, and politics to the individual persons we’re called to love.

Now is the time to let people surprise you and to find unexpected bridges with people you thought were on the “other side.” It’s the time to practice what’s perhaps our most lacking skill in 2021: listening. When we talk about the need for healing in our divided society, I think of Pope Francis’ descriptions of mercy. They’re physical, like a caress or an outstretched hand, and they begin with the simple but profound act of listening.

Listening doesn’t mean affirming every single belief held by the person telling her story, but when we shut up and listen, we open a door that many of us didn’t even realize was closed for most of our lives — or, perhaps, we thought that keeping it closed kept division at bay. Keep that door open for the Holy Spirit. It’s how mercy flows. It’s how healing begins.

6. The Most Important First Step Is Starting a Conversation

I’ll go out on a limb and say that your study circle is not going to solve racism inside or outside the Church. You probably won’t even walk away with an action plan for your parish or local community. But just having this conversation opens a door that far too many white American Catholics didn’t even know existed. Don’t underestimate the significance of opening that door.

By facilitating the conversation, you’re letting other Catholics around you know that it’s OK — it’s good — to talk about this topic. It is an issue that we care about, too. I know for many in the Church, especially Catholics of color, it is too little, too late. But I want to convey how much hope I feel when the women I know from holding babies together in the back of the church look around the group and say, “I’m so glad to know this is important to you and that we can talk about race together.”

It’s helpful to have a “closing date” for your group instead of letting enthusiasm wane with dwindling attendance. (My second group lasted four sessions: one for each section of the “Open Wide Our Hearts” study guide.) That doesn’t mean that the topic’s closed but, rather, that together you’ve accomplished something and you have each other’s back to practice what you’ve learned.

One of my friends is passionate about highlighting the beautiful diversity of the Church’s images of Our Lady. Her dream is to create a sidewalk shrine outside our parish, right on our city’s main downtown corridor, dedicated to Our Lady of the Nations, with rotating images depicting Mary from different cultures. In the course of one of our meetings, several women volunteered to help her maintain it, and others offered to connect her with volunteers who could build it. “Just talking” isn’t enough, but it’s important, and it’s where concrete action begins.

7. Let the Holy Spirit Show up

Open with a prayer to the Holy Spirit, and let this prayer set the tone for your time together. Invite Him to fill every heart with the fire and love that He has for each of His people. Ask that the fruits of the Holy Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) be present in your conversation and in the way you address each other. Pray for a spirit of docility and humility, especially the humility to let scales fall from your eyes. Ask for the gifts of wisdom, discernment, and compassion as you navigate sensitive topics with others who all carry their own wounds. And, finally, ask for courage — and push out into the deep.

Open with a prayer to the Holy Spirit, and let this prayer set the tone for your time together. Invite Him to fill every heart with the fire and love that He has for each of His people.

Resources

“Open Wide Our Hearts: An Enduring Call to Love”: A pastoral letter against racism from the U.S. bishops’ Ad Hoc Committee on Racism

Study Guide for “Open Wide Our Hearts”

More Magnificent Than a Cathedral?

“The Most Important Person on earth is a mother. She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not. She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral — a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby's body. The angels have not been blessed with such a grace. They cannot share in God's creative miracle to bring new saints to Heaven. Only a human mother can. Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature; God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation. What on God's good earth is more glorious than this: to be a mother?” (Venerable Jozsef Cardinal Mindszenty).

I first stumbled across this quote a few months ago on a friend’s Instagram page. My first instinct was to marvel at the beauty of such a thought. What a beautiful tribute to motherhood! But upon further reflection, I found myself unable to really relate to the feeling. Motherhood at that moment didn’t feel holy. I certainly didn’t feel like I had built something magnificent. It was Easter morning, and my 10-month-old son had woken up with a fever. He and I didn’t go to Mass that morning, the first Easter Mass I had ever missed. I spent the day wondering how any of this could be holy.

It certainly didn’t fit my image of holiness. The “holy” mother is the one who actually attends Mass, reverently praying while her well-dressed children sit quietly with her. I, on the other hand, watched Mass on Zoom, wearing dirty pajamas and my husband’s sweatshirt. This wasn’t the way I had envisioned motherhood.

About a month later, during Mass on Mother’s Day, the priest gave a homily on the beauty of a mother’s love. He had been raised by his stepmother, and he spoke eloquently about her impact on his life. He said, “If you ever think Christ is absent from the world, just look at a mother’s love for her child.” I was deeply moved and started to wonder whether my image of holiness really fit the season of life I am currently in.

Our Call to Holiness in the Present Moment

The holiness I wanted — perhaps the one I was more comfortable with — was the type I strove for before I had kids: daily Mass, frequent Adoration, silent prayer, etc. The holiness we are called to in the present moment is one we are capable of achieving not in spite of the mess of our lives but because of it. For example, before I was married and had children, I went to daily Mass at the cathedral down the street from my apartment before my graduate school classes. It was one of my favorite pastimes. However, the parish where I live now doesn’t have a daily Mass I can attend with my work schedule. There is a monthly Wednesday evening Mass, during which my son spends most of the time screeching like a pterodactyl and waving at the priest.

Holy? I sure hope so.

The holiness we are called to in the present moment is one we are capable of achieving not in spite of the mess of our lives but because of it.

Raising children is holy work, even when it doesn’t feel like it. It’s messy, exhausting, and frustrating. But our Church is full of saints who have made this messiness holy. Consider St. Zélie Martin. St. Thérèse of Lisieux used to call out to St. Zélie, her mother, every time she descended a single step of their staircase at home. St. Zélie graciously responded, “Yes, child,” to encourage her to keep descending the stairs. If she didn’t respond, St. Thérèse remained rooted to the spot. Maybe St. Zélie was trying to cook dinner or pray her rosary when St. Thérèse kept interrupting her. I can certainly relate to that.

Consider also St. Gianna Beretta Molla. As a physician and mother of four, I’m sure St. Gianna had days where she felt torn between her profession and her family. I’m sure she struggled to find time for an uninterrupted sip of coffee. But she was also known for her pervasive spirit of joy, which I’m sure inspired her family.

Even though my son might be considered a distraction or an interruption at times, it’s his needs that are leading me to sainthood. What better way to become detached from self and to minister to another than to serve someone wholly dependent on you?

What better way to become detached from self and to minister to another than to serve someone wholly dependent on you?

While raising children might not always feel like the glorious experience Cardinal Mindszenty describes it as, it certainly is a gift and a call to greater holiness. This call might take the form of middle of the night snuggles or handing over a sippy cup during the day. It might even look like missing Easter Mass and spending the day taking care of a sick child. Either way, motherhood invites us to recognize the call of Christ embedded within our children’s needs and minister to those needs as best we can.

Read part 1 of this series here.

What is it like to work as a physician assistant and be a Catholic feminist? I asked two professionals to find out.

Amanda Laatsch: Physician Assistant in Gastroenterology

How did you become a gastroenterology physician assistant (PA)?

I always knew I wanted a career in the medical field. I was a good student, particularly in science, and I felt that medicine was a great way to utilize my God-given intellectual abilities to help others. It took me a while to choose a specific career path, but I ultimately decided to become a PA because I like the unique role they provide in health care, and I thought it would offer good work-life balance for my future family. During PA school, I found my gastroenterology (GI) lectures particularly interesting, and that led me to pursue a job in this specialty after graduating.

What does a typical day look like in your job?

My work days vary. Some days, I see patients at the GI clinic. Many of them are referred to me by their primary care providers, and I help diagnose and treat their GI conditions, such as acid reflux or Crohn’s disease. Other days, I make rounds at the hospital and see admitted patients who are having GI problems. I order tests, prescribe medications, schedule procedures (such as colonoscopies), and communicate with the doctors about their care.

What is it like to work in gastroenterology as a Catholic feminist? Do any aspects of your Catholicism or feminism present challenges or benefits in your job?

As a Catholic feminist, I make a point to really listen to my female patients. Many women feel that their doctors dismiss their symptoms or chalk them all up to stress, anxiety, or being overweight. These factors can certainly make symptoms worse, but they are rarely 100% of the problem. I’m not always able to provide a clear diagnosis, but I can do my due diligence to rule out serious conditions and hopefully make life more manageable for my patients. Of course, I also take this approach to my male patients, but it seems to me that female patients struggle more with not feeling “heard” by their providers.

Many women feel that their doctors dismiss their symptoms or chalk them all up to stress, anxiety, or being overweight.

What advice do you have for young Catholic feminists who are considering your career path?

For Catholic feminists considering the medical field, I would say that there are so many options available! Doctor, nurse, nurse practitioner, physician assistant, physical therapist, dietician, pharmacist, and so much more ... Each role provides its own value to the health care team, but necessary training and lifestyle can vary. I suggest researching all options and shadowing a professional to get firsthand experience of what a particular career entails.

Is there a devotion (a saint, a particular prayer, etc.) that has been especially precious to you in your job?

I attended PA school at DeSales University, so St. Francis de Sales is naturally a favorite of mine. I’m also inspired by the life of St. Gianna Beretta Molla, as she lived the vocations of both physician and mother (in the 1950s!) in such a beautiful way.

Anne Kristobak: Physician Assistant in Orthopedics

How did you become a physician assistant in orthopedics?

I was a political science major in undergrad and thought I would go to law school or work in Washington, D.C. in some capacity. My summer job in college was with an organization called People Building People, which hosted medical and community-building trips in Juarez, Mexico. I lived in Juarez for two summers with several other interns, and we hosted medical mission trips. That’s when I became interested in the field of medicine. I saw firsthand how someone in the medical field can make a dramatic difference in an individual’s life and how you can serve the poor and under-served in a tangible way.

I used all my electives in undergrad to take the required classes for PA school and ended up with a biology minor. I was attracted to the PA profession specifically, because I knew I wanted to be married and have kids, and being a PA would be more conducive to family life than going the doctor route (although I know so many female physicians who are amazing wives and moms, and I really admire them!).

I grew up in a family that valued education highly. My parents and the college I went to, Grove City College, emphasized the importance of evaluating what you love, what you are good at, and then using that to choose a profession. I am really grateful for that. I love what I do, and I enjoy going to work every day.

I ended up in orthopedics via pediatrics. I was formerly in pediatric pulmonary medicine, and because of some moves due to my husband’s career, the only job I could find as a PA was in pediatric orthopedics. I love the field. Orthopedics is an amazing area of medicine, because we get to help people gain function and live with less pain.

What does a typical day look like in your job?

No two days are alike, which keeps my job interesting. I see my own clinics twice a week, and then I either assist in the operating room or see a clinic with one of my surgeons. I care for children with a variety of orthopedic complaints, including fractures, limb and spine deformities, genetic disorders, and athletic injuries. Another task I have at Walter Reed is coordinating orthopedic operative care for our wounded soldiers coming from overseas. Most American soldiers involved in war trauma or accidents in another country come to Walter Reed for definitive care. I usually have a PA student or a pediatric resident with me in clinic, so I do a lot of education on the job as well. All of these things keep me busy!

What is it like to work in orthopedics as a Catholic feminist? Do any aspects of your Catholicism or feminism present challenges or benefits in your job?

The majority of physician assistants are women, so I work with a lot of other hardworking, well-educated, smart women, which is a great part of being in the medical field. There are fewer women orthopedic surgeons than in most surgical specialties, so I always try to encourage female medical students who are considering the field. I think it’s important to have men and women represented in an organization, because each gender brings something unique and valuable to the table.

I think I’m a good example for my two sons who see their mother working full time and doing something she loves. My husband is also very supportive of my career, and we handle work, kids, and house stuff as a team.

What advice do you have for young Catholic feminists who are considering your career path?

I think it’s important to carve out the time to figure out what you are good at (and bad at) and what excites you. Be intentional about that. I think medicine is a field that women can excel in, because we naturally have deep empathy for another person’s suffering.

I think medicine is a field that women can excel in, because we naturally have deep empathy for another person’s suffering.

On a more practical level, I shadowed a few physician assistants before I decided to go to school for it. You really need to do research on the profession before diving in. You also have to have top-notch undergrad grades. Most PA programs are two-year master’s degrees, and those two years are really intense. I would not plan on doing anything else during that time.

If you are not married yet and want to be, I think it is equally important to find a spouse who will support your education and profession. The vocation of marriage and motherhood do not exclude a career. When we think of a Catholic woman, we usually think of a female in a religious order or a mother. We aren’t thinking of a mom who works full time.

I try to recognize women like me who are married, have kids, and work full time out of the home on my blog, All Things Bright. It’s OK to have your kids go to day care or have a nanny — and it’s really important to have a spouse who backs you up. What matters is that you are doing what God calls you to do. For me, that is having a career in medicine and being a wife and mom.

Is there a devotion (a saint, a particular prayer, etc.) that has been especially precious to you in your job?

I have always loved Mother Teresa, even as a little girl who grew up in a Protestant home. There was something so attractive about this woman who was pulling the sick and dying off of the streets. The more I read about Mother Teresa, the more I admired what made her who she was: her constant “yes” to God. She also loved and cared for children. I think that, so often, children suffer because adults are selfish, but Mother Teresa was one of their strongest advocates in the 20th century.

I also love the Gospel passages where Jesus heals people. It highlights how concerned He is with human suffering. I see what I do as a way to be like Jesus — to be his hands, in a small way. Medicine is mercy. It’s one of the few professions where you, as the provider, get to make a big, positive difference in a person’s life every day you go to work.

Mother Teresa prayed this prayer by St. John Henry Newman every day, which I also pray:  

Dear Jesus, help me to spread Your fragrance wherever I go.
Flood my soul with Your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly, that my life may only be a radiance of Yours.
Shine through me, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Your presence in my soul.
Let them look up and see no longer me, but only Jesus!
Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine as You shine, so to shine as to be a light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from You; none of it will be mine.
It will be you, shining on others through me.
Let me thus praise You the way You love best, by shining on those around me.
Let me preach You without preaching, not by words but by my example, by the catching force of the sympathetic influence of what I do,
the evident fullness of the love my heart bears to You.
Amen.

On March 16, 2021, eight people, six of whom were women of Asian descent, were killed in Atlanta-area spas by a man who claimed that he had a sex addiction and saw these spas as sexual temptations that he needed to eliminate. The victims of the shootings were Delaina Ashley Yaun, Paul Andre Michels, Daoyou Feng, Xiaojie Tan, Soon C Park, Hyun J Grant, Suncha Kim, and Yong A Yue (NBC News).

Each one of these victims was made in God’s image and likeness and has loved ones who are now grieving — supposedly because the man who shot them “had a bad day,” according to the local Sheriff’s department captain Jay Baker (NBC News). Reducing this crime to the result of a person’s bad day is not only tragically reductive but also violates the Church’s teaching on the respect for the dignity of human life.

Reducing this crime to the result of a person’s bad day is not only tragically reductive but also violates the Church’s teaching on the respect for the dignity of human life.

As a woman, I find this violence against women to be horrendous and terrifying. As a Catholic, I am angry at hearing this crime described as the result of a Christian man’s sex addiction and his attempt "to take out that temptation" (NBC News). This perspective misapplies Christian teaching on sexual morality by reducing women to sources of temptation and acquitting a man of full responsibility for his actions.

However, as a white woman, I cannot know the depth of how news of this event has impacted people in the AAPI (Asian American and Pacific Islander) community. Below is a list of articles, organizations, and other resources to support them.

May we be open to how God is speaking to us in the midst of injustice and responsive to the movement of the Spirit in rooting out all forms of racism — both in ourselves and in the world around us.

May we be open to how God is speaking to us in the midst of injustice and responsive to the movement of the Spirit in rooting out all forms of racism

Articles by AAPI Women

These articles unpack a history of sexualized racism against AAPI in America and convey some of the experiences and perspectives of AAPI women:

“Purity culture, racism and the violence against Asian women in Atlanta” by Flora x. Tang in America Magazine

“Racism, sexism must be considered in Atlanta case involving killing of six Asian women, experts say” by Kimmy Yam in NBC News

“Atlanta spa shooting suspect's 'bad day' defense, and America's sexualized racism problem” by Nancy Wang Yuen in NBC News

AAPI Organizations

Asian American Christian Collaborative: an organization seeking “to encourage, equip, and empower Asian American Christians and friends of [the] community to follow Christ holistically.”

National Organization of Asians and Pacific Islanders Ending Sexual Violence, “a program under Monsoon Asians & Pacific Islanders in Solidarity, with a mission to support local and international community-based programs and governmental organizations in enhancing their services to victims of sexual violence from the Asian and Pacific Islander communities in the U.S., U.S. Territories in the Pacific, and … Asia.”

Catholic Articles and Resources

“Bishops denounce violence against Asian Americans” by Lucy Grindon in National Catholic Reporter

“At nationwide rallies, Christians stand up for Asian Americans” by Emily McFarlan Miller, Alejandra Molina, Roxanne Stone, and Religion News Service in National Catholic Reporter

Catholic Asian Americans: A Mosaic of Faith from Ave Maria Press

“Opinion: Solidarity is a Christian demand” by Stephen Staten of Black Catholic Messenger

Catholic Women Against Racism: a Facebook community for Catholic women to engage in conversations about the intersections of faith, race, and gender.

USCCB Subcommittee on Asian and Pacific Islander Affairs: This subcommittee “assists the Committee on Cultural Diversity within the Church.” It works “directly with the standing committee and collaboratively with other USCCB committees to affirm the gifts and contributions of Asian and Pacific Island Catholics and to provide more opportunities for them to engage in the life of the Church and shape its evangelizing mission.”

Other Forms of Support

We can also support the AAPI community by shopping at Asian-owned bookstores, small businesses, and fashion brands (particularly PAL Campaign, a Catholic clothing brand founded by Korean-American Catholic Joe Kim).

We can even start by supporting Asian-owned restaurants in our areas. One of my close Vietnamese friends shared, “If someone isn’t even willing to try different Asian foods, then they aren’t ready to have a conversation about the AAPI experience in America.”

In the first part of this series on disability and Catholic feminism, I wrote an introduction to disability advocacy and vocabulary. As you engage in online spaces, you will often see disability advocacy label itself as working against “ableism.”

Recognizing Ableism

“Ableism” is a broad term that refers to treating others (and ourselves!) better or worse based on physical ability, health, or capacity. It is important to recognize that ableism is always a functional negative — even if the things you say seem positive — because it insinuates that the opposite (disability, sickness, or injury) is negative. For example, my brother Matthew uses a wheelchair when we are out of the house. This is not because he can’t walk, but rather because he can. And he is fast and strong! Since he doesn’t understand boundaries and the differences between things we do and do not own, if we go to Target and he’s not in his wheelchair, he would tear toys from their boxes faster than lightning! He would grab people we don’t know thinking they are friends, and if we heard an unexpected loud sound, he might become frightened and collapse onto the floor, unwilling to move. He knows that he is safe and secure in his wheelchair.

However, many of my friends first meet him when he is in his wheelchair and assume that he can’t walk. If they find out he can walk and say, “Oh, good! He’s not as disabled as I thought!”, we could consider that statement to be ableist, because it assumes that people who can’t walk are “worse off” than those who can. Even if such a statement is well-meaning, it sows a seed of looking down on others.

The Intersection of Ableism and Feminism

Ableism and feminism intersect in many ways, in no small part because for centuries, women were treated in medical settings that viewed men as the standard and, therefore, saw women’s bodies as “atypical,” a word often used nowadays to refer to disabled persons. Women’s bodies are still treated in many medical schools as the non-normative, or non-standard, version of the human body. Gynecology and obstetrics are specializations not all residents choose to pursue in depth, and even then, many issues of women’s health may actually be more accurately housed under other specializations. Not all doctors have experience with the unique components of the female body, and not all women’s health problems are traced back to the womb.

We see these issues in the ways that birth control and weight loss are viewed as the catch-all solutions to a variety of women’s health concerns, replacing exploration into their root causes. Women’s pain is often taken less seriously, and these issues are even more likely to occur for BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and people of color) women. The maternal mortality rate is astronomical in the United States, particularly for women of color. These problems can be situated under the umbrella of ableism and can be masked when we settle for the narrative of “strong women” without asking why they have to be strong in the first place.

In my last article, I talked about vocabulary and how we can be disability advocates in ways as simple as changing the terms we use and share online. When we discuss social narratives, we are talking about the stories, feelings, and beliefs we cultivate through experiences and media. Beyond interpersonal relationships, larger narratives are at work in the entertainment we consume. When we think about the pressure placed on women’s bodies, it is easy to see how the media impacts our opinions. Hollywood actors, fashion week models, and Instagram influencers all present, through their success, narratives about which “kinds” of women are beautiful.

Feminism and ableism also intersect prominently in the areas of weight loss and wellness culture. Women are constantly sold ableist lies:

“You’re always healthier if you’re skinnier.”

“You can achieve perfect health on your own.”

“You’re a better mother if you do things naturally.”

As we continue to unmask how beauty standards are both racist and sexist, we can also see how they are ableist. Not all bodies are skinny! Not all bodies move in the same way! Not all bodies work as we’re told they should!

Fat phobia (the fear of being at a larger weight or clothing size) is deeply ableist and hurts women of all sizes. Women who struggle with eating disorders have a more difficult time recovering, women who are larger feel pressure to slim down in order to be taken seriously, and women who find themselves at our culture’s “ideal size” face immense pressure to stay that way — when, as women, our bodies are not meant to “stay” any way. We cycle and flow on purpose.

As women, our bodies are not meant to “stay” any way. We cycle and flow on purpose.

The “Need” for Healing

It is also important to recognize that the media functions in ableist ways regarding physically and cognitively disabled persons. More often than not, cognitively disabled characters in movies and television function in stereotypical and harmful ways. We call them “tropes”: common, clichéd narrative devices. Some tropes of cognitively disabled persons include being childlike, being frequently confused, pining after a romantic partner who will never return their affections because of their disability, being untrustworthy and having to prove their worthiness, being the subject of miracles or the impetus behind the protagonist’s personal growth, and (most frequently) being killed or sacrificing themselves after proving their worth in order to elicit emotion from the audience.

This is a reflection of “inspiration porn,” and it is deeply harmful, especially in media directed at children. Our kids need to know that people with disabilities are kind, trustworthy, and no one to be afraid of. We need to teach our loved ones that disabled people do not exist solely to inspire us and that disabled persons are just as worthy and capable of familial and romantic love as anyone else. We need to see disabled characters as heroes in their own right.

We also need to accept disabled persons regardless of whether or not their story includes healing of any kind. This acceptance can be difficult within church settings, where we often focus on healing narratives. Some priests might use stereotypes of healing in their homilies when expounding upon Gospel readings that feature Christ’s healing miracles, especially of the deaf and blind. We must be careful not to assume that all people experiencing disability desperately yearn for healing. Some do, but others don’t!

Disability and illness can be so challenging, both for the person experiencing it and for people who care for them. It can be painful, ostracizing, and confusing. But this should not mean that the end goal for all persons is perfect healing. It is neither realistic nor helpful to assume that a person’s existence should be oriented toward perfect healing, because there’s no such thing as perfect health in this life. Sickness, disability, and injury are a part of human life. Even if you are fortunate enough to have perfect health and live until a ripe old age, you will likely experience disabling conditions as a natural part of aging. What’s more, God is no less good and no less present in the life of a sick, injured, or disabled person if he or she never receives healing.

God is no less good and no less present in the life of a sick, injured, or disabled person if he or she never receives healing.

We also need to be careful about how we frame our discussions of Heaven. Some people in my extended family say things like, “I can’t wait to see what Matthew will be like in Heaven,” or “In Heaven, Matthew will be exactly as he should be.” Statements like these ones hurt, because they suggest that Matthew is some sort of mistake that God will work to rectify in this life and the next. We don’t know what Heaven will be like, nor do we know exactly what our bodies will be like when our souls are reunited with them. We do know that Jesus retained his wounds after his resurrection. We also know from Scripture (John 9:1-3) that disability is not a function of or punishment for sin (though some Christians still think so).

We should stop using disability as the go-to example of worldly suffering that will be rewarded with perfect healing, because doing so creates a narrative that we can somehow achieve or earn perfect health. But what happens when we don’t? We might feel we have failed, that our faith isn’t strong enough, or that God doesn’t love us.

We should stop using disability as the go-to example of worldly suffering that will be rewarded with perfect healing, because doing so creates a narrative that we can somehow achieve or earn perfect health.

Ableism and Our Own Bodies

The most insidious ableism is often the ableism with which we treat ourselves. Even as an able-bodied person with a disabled family member, I often catch myself being hard on myself when I’m not as productive, physically active, or alert as I think I should be. I catch myself saying, “If only you’d do X workout, take Y supplement, lose Z amount of weight, then you’d feel better and be a better person.”

Negative self-talk is often deeply ableist. When we expect ourselves to prove our worth through high levels of productivity, earn bodily autonomy through diet or exercise, or look like others in order to be accepted, we’re operating with the  assumption that one type of body is best — which suggests that all other bodies, whether yours or someone else’s, are bad. The first and best way we can fight ableism is by changing the narratives in our head around our own bodies. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. How can we love our disabled neighbors well and be anti-ableist if we perceive ourselves in an ableist way?

The first and best way we can fight ableism is by changing the narratives in our head around our own bodies.

Much of the work to combat ableism comes down to fully accepting bodies that won’t become the bodies we think of as “normal,” “healthy,” and “beautiful.” One way of doing so is offering a prayer that sounds like, “Lord, help me see that all bodies are good, exactly as they are.”

Self-hatred can run deep, as can grief around ourselves or our loved ones’ being disabled. Accepting all bodies as good can begin with working to think neutrally about our own bodies by not passing judgment on them. It means starting from “I am” or “It is” and moving to “I am good” or “It is good.” It means simply thinking, “This is how it looks and feels to be in this particular body. This is my body.”

I am.

I am.

This is my body.

This is my body.

It is good.

It is good.