Tag Archive - love

Women Who I Love

February 16, 2011 in General with 0 Comments

Stephen Swanson

Stephen Swanson finally admits to loving women.  Surprise!

With this being near V-Day and the midst of the “Love Relief” campaign, I felt the need to write about something more pleasant than my anger with legislatures, both state and federal, or what’s happening on the Bachelor.

I need to think positive, and you should too. Therefore, I want to write about my love for women. No, not THAT kind of love. Sure, I could talk about my wife or mom. I could write about my sisters. I could write about the wonderful, strong, and intelligent women who are my colleagues, both online and IRL.

However, there’s a group of women that I respect more than any other at the moment: my students.

This is not to say that I do not have wonderful male students, friends, and colleagues. I do. They’re great!

But, unfortunately for them this semester, I have some women in my classes that are not only dedicated, sharp students who make teaching fun and interesting on a daily basis but who have also overcome considerable obstacles to be there.

Take, for example, on of the students in my afternoon class. She is what we would call a non-traditional student, meaning that she is not 18-23, and I had the pleasure of teaching her in the prerequisite course. At the beginning of that term that I first had her, she struggled with everything. Not only was she frustrated with her own lack of experience with computers and word processors, she had a strong sense of self-criticism, that she just wasn’t a very good writer.

This week, she not only led a discussion on her own but also takes time before class to help other students get their work formatted on the computer. She, like the rest of us, still struggles with self-doubt, but she does not let it stop her cold like it had.

I have a whole set of women with whom it is my pleasure to work as part of the dual-credit program which teaches high school students so that they get both high school and college credit for their work. They are not only smart, funny, and hardworking, but they have begun to take pride in the very value of intellectual pursuit in an environment where little value is placed, especially within their gender sub-culture, on thinking and consideration.

Now, I can only take a very small part of the credit for their evolution as students, but I can own the pride and affection that I have in them and a society where they can be what they are and become even better.

Therefore, in a new spirit of “Valentines”, I urge you all to express your pride, encouragement, and…yes, love, to one another, as least for a few days in February.  We all need it.

Stephen Swanson teaches as an assistant professor of English at McLennan Community College. Aside from guiding students through the pitfalls of college writing and literature, he spends most of his time trying to remain aware of popular culture, cooking, and enjoying time with his wife and son. He holds degrees in Communications (Calvin College), Film Studies (Central Michigan University), and Media and American Culture Studies (Bowling Green State University). In addition to editing a collection, Battleground States: Scholarship in Contemporary America, he has forthcoming projects on Johnny Cash and approaches to analyzing detective narratives in terms of ethical responsibility.

Luci Shaw’s Spiritual Erotics

February 14, 2011 in General, Relief Recommends with 2 Comments

Brad Fruhauff

A propos of our Love Relief campaign, Relief’s Poetry Editor considers what it means to look with love at something while reviewing Luci Shaw’s What the Light Was Like (Wordfarm, 2006). As a point of order, he wishes to say that he began this post well before Valentine’s Day, but while it’s become a propos of the occasion, it is notably about Shaw’s “spiritual erotics” rather than, say, the canned greetings you’ll get today from e-cards.

…To find some kind of essence–
the soul within the structure, taking
my body in their eyes and fingers
in a kind of lovemaking.
I the love object.

As I read the above lines from “Life Drawing” in Luci Shaw’s What the Light Was Like, I was struck by how they fly in the face of a line of postmodern thinking that is vexed by the power of the gaze. After all, seeing is almost the same as knowing in Western thought; we tend to act like seeing gives us essential information about people and things, when in fact we often see what we expect or desire to see – think of racism or sexism, but think also of your attitudes towards the elderly, or children, or liberals or conservatives. The gaze can be an extension of a mind anxious to avoid the surprises and risks of dealing with individual persons, a mind looking to see only iterations of what it already knows. The clichés of Valentine’s Day come from the fossilization of our concept of love, from our inert and idealized notions of romance.

One might fault Shaw for being too complacent about her own looking in this book. One could accuse this gaze as being just as domineering and male (“They’d work to get beyond surfaces / to penetrate what lives / inside” [emphasis added]) as so many that have come before. But that would be to miss the point. As the book’s title indicates, these poems are not about finding the same light everywhere she looks – about casting her gaze like a spotlight that turns all things one color – but describing “what the light was like” in specific places and persons. Shaw no doubt looks with an expectation of finding beauty, but it is a looking that at least tries to be open to the looked upon.

Thus she speaks of her looking as “loving,” as “witness.” These words put her looking in relationship to people and things rather than guarantee her authorial distance. In “Life Drawing,” she puts herself in the object’s place, imagining herself as a nude model in a drawing class. She calls the students’ looking “a kind of lovemaking,” and she, though naked and exposed to the ostensibly male gaze, is not merely object, nor sexual object, but “love object.”

The challenge for a Christian reader and writer is to look with and bare oneself to this love. As Shaw models it, it is to believe that this love will discover the light without trying to trap it or own it.

At the same time, the co-creative capacities of art play a role in transforming the love object. In “The Redress,” the speaker compares the other’s gestures to a “too-large shirt” given her by someone else merely to cover her nakedness. Then she imagines undressing and redressing the other, performing a kind of makeover. But this makeover seeks to realize the fullness of the other, to provide her with “a silky second skin / that will keep growing as you grow.”

If you’ve noticed the amount of sex and nudity, you’ll appreciate my reference to a “spiritual erotics.” Shaw’s sexuality in these poems is as innocent and liberated as in Milton’s Eden. Baptized by love, erotism becomes an electrifying pulse between and amongst people and things, truly part of our shared lives together. Its purity consists in its generosity; this love celebrates the other and seeks first to give of itself or to give honor and praise, rather than seeking sexual possession.

On this day when the word love is spoken with the casualness of a curse word, it’s lovely and good to read Shaw as she luxuriates in her daughter-in-law’s hospitality:

“I love the crisp word apple, with its hard
and soft sounds, . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the way light
offers itself without measure, the way Christa
reverses the Fall, slicing herself out to us–
her own tart sweetness–without reserve.

Brad Fruhauff is Poetry Editor with Relief. He holds a PhD in English from Loyola University Chicago and is currently an adjunct instructor in the Chicago area where he lives with his wife and 2-year old son. He has published fiction in The Ankeny Briefcase, poetry in Relief, Salt, and *catapult, and reviews in Burnside Writers’ Collective and The Englewood Review of Books.

Faith, Love, Acceptance: All Summed Up in a Yogurt Shop

February 28, 2010 in Faith and Culture with 4 Comments

Travis Griffith

Travis Griffith shares a brief moment in time that, in his opinion, sums up all that is right with humanity. Does it? We’d love to hear your stories too!

Sometimes conversations about faith get so bogged down in philosophy that we forget to look at the human aspect.

We can discuss the relativity of truth and whether or not Jesus is a triune God until we throw up, then wonder if we even got anywhere.

Religious commentary and mock speeches for the pope are interesting and worthy of conversation, but what about the little moments that happen in everyday life that so often go overlooked? Sometimes that’s where the answers, or at least the most valuable lessons, lie.

One of those moments happened last Tuesday when I was at a small, locally-owned frozen yogurt shop with my wife, sister-in-law and two kids. The shop is in a university district and frequented by college kids (especially on Tuesday nights… $1.69 mediums!).

On this night, among the throngs of nubile college co-eds, two of the oldest people I’d ever seen were there; sitting a few tables away from us. This couple had to be close to celebrating their hundredth wedding anniversary. The man, wearing a matching tweed hat and jacket, was hunched over and moving slowly. The woman was seemingly frozen in mid-bite. A folded up walker rested against the man’s chair. The couple didn’t say a word to each other and seemed oblivious to the incredibly diverse, laughing, chatty, text-messaging crowd that surrounded their table.

I was just amazed that the kids had enough respect to keep their distance and allow the couple to enjoy some peace. But then the frail lovers of frozen yogurt began the arduous process of getting up from the table and exiting the building. It was then that a complex choreography of absolute human beauty unfolded.

First, one of the college girls at a table next to ours nudged her friend and uttered a quiet, “Cute…” as the couple stood up. Then a man across from their table fluidly stood up, while talking on a cell phone, and in one motion unfolded the old man’s walker and set it in front of him before gracefully falling back into his seat and not missing a beat in his conversation.

Walker in place, the couple put on their jackets and made their way for the door. Crowds parted to allow them access.  A customer just entering the shop stopped and held the door open for much longer than would have been necessary, allowing the couple to exit without having to lift a finger.

The couple’s Cadillac was parked directly in front of the shop, but the man had to shuffle down the sidewalk until he could step off a lower part of the curb before shuffling his way back up to his car. By the time he got there and started the process of opening the passenger side door, another yogurt customer was passing by and opened it for him. The man gave a small nod before disappearing into the leather-clad abyss of the Caddy’s interior.

The man’s walker was still outside the car though. His wife managed to fold it up, but when she opened the back door to slide the walker in, she lost her grip on the door and it slammed shut. A customer exiting the shop with her daughter noticed, and opened the door again. She even took a moment to slide the walker onto the rear seat. The old lady smiled, held her purse in front of her chest with both hands, said thank you and began to work her way around to the driver’s seat.

As the white reverse lights blinked on, I turned to my wife who had happened to watch the entire chain of events unfold too. We mouthed the word “wow” to each other and went on with our conversation. Everyone else in the shop was either engaged in conversation or had thumbs flying across phone keypads. They were oblivious.

The amazing thing about this? No one who helped the couple seemed to notice the person who helped just prior. This was not inspired kindness, but pure, genuine individual compassion that when viewed from 15 feet away looked like a perfectly timed and choreographed TV commercial for human grace. It was nothing short of heart warming and inspiring.

In that little yogurt shop, and for no more than five minutes, humanity came together as one to help an elderly couple in need of a little love and assistance. Then everything returned to normal. But for that moment it didn’t matter what religion anyone in that shop followed. Prejudices and orientations and races and beliefs were all overshadowed by one commonality between us all:

Pure, unconditional acceptance of humanity.

Ahh… if only the rest of life was so easy.

Have you seen any similar moments of human compassion unfold? Let’s hear your stories!

***

Travis Griffith, who left behind the corporate marketing world, choosing family and writing in lieu of “a comfortable life” financially, is a former atheist trying to define what leading a spiritual life really means. His children’s book, Your Father Forever, published in 2005 by Illumination Arts Publishing Company, Inc. captures only a fraction of his passion for fatherhood.