5 Joyful Things: Summer Edition

Spurs nuns, a perfect sandwich, a defense of public schools, real friends & the "try hard"

The news about our Republic is bad so this week I bring you some good news: basketball nuns, the perfect sandwich, a defense of public schools, friendships that aren’t performative, embracing the try hard and more. Thank you to Mackenzie and Linds for becoming paid subscribers. INNER EMIGRE helps feed my family so thank you! xoxo. Anna

1) Basketball Nuns

As Spring turns to Summer and the NBA Playoffs heat up this statement is heard in my house: “Mama, you don’t understand, we have to watch the game, the Spurs are on a generational run.”

My kids and my husband love the San Antonio Spurs but when we turned on Game Four of the Western Conference Finals I was surprised to see my old friend Sister Bernadette and her fellow Salesian sisters court side wearing Spurs jerseys over their white habits. I worked with Sr. B in my former life.

Spurs center Luke Kornet, who is over seven feet tall, had to bow for little Sister B to bless him before the game. Talk about humility and healthy masculinity. This past offseason Kornet signed a 4-year $41 million contract to play for the San Antonio Spurs. To become a nun Sr. B had to sell all her possessions. And yet Kornet bowed his head for her blessing.

Some opposing fans laughed. “What the hell is he doing?” one said. Then just like in a sports movie the Spurs won the game. They dominated Oklahoma City with a 21-point blowout to tie the playoff series. Coincidence? Maybe. But after the game Kornet said that someone needed to buy the sisters’ tickets and get them on the flight for the next one. I love this shit. The Salesians might be too busy serving poor people and battered women to go, but I hope they do.

The New Atheists used to like to to say that religion is a fairy tale for those afraid of the dark. But honestly, the fairytale was my favorite part. What I liked best about the Catholicism I grew up with was that it reversed the hierarchies. “Do not be inhospitable to strangers for by doing so some have entertained angels unawares” was on my bedroom door as a kid. Yes, that’s a fairytale, and yes that’s why it gets under your skin, because fairytales tell you that the elderly lady begging at the door just might be an angel or a princess in disguise, and how you treat her just might save your life.

2) A Perfect Sandwich

April and May were ass kickers. We had to move the shop. We all got sick, and there were a million end-of-the-year kid obligations. Plus, we’re watching in real time as our Republic slips into autocracy. Our public lands, irreplaceable treasures, are being sold off for oil and gas drilling. Land around: the Grand Canyon, Zion, Joshua Tree, Arches, Grand Tetons, and Denali is now being sold. The learned helplessness of living under the rule of one very dumb man is real.

And yet here I am trying to be pleasant and make conversation with my kids like I am fine. In the car, I asked my youngest to describe his perfect day. It involved an “amazing breakfast” of pancakes, bacon, and blueberries, and then going to Water World except the park would be reserved for only his family and friends. He went on to describe all the delicious food that would be there: watermelons, cherries, ice cream.

I told him that on my perfect day, our family would go somewhere beautiful that I’d never been: the coast of Maine, canyoneering in Utah, hiking through the redwoods, and then I would have an amazing lunch. A crunchy veggie sandwich on good bread with chips and a sparkly drink. As we talked I realized that I couldn’t afford the trip, but the sandwich was very much within reach.

So here’s the recipe. Get a loaf of good bread from a local bakery. Nightingale is our neighborhood spot. Split it down the middle. Spread butter on one side and top the butter with thinly sliced radishes. Add handfuls of arugula and drizzle with good olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Reader, after the first bite I moaned.

3) Friendships Where You Don’t Have to Perform

The other day, my husband and I had a row because we were both exhausted and burned out from running a small business and keeping up with three kids and I looked down at my phone, and there was a text from Kate my climbing friend. It said, “Let’s hang out I’m going to Luke’s.” I didn’t know if I should say yes or no because I felt like crying at the moment but I said, “Come pick me up.” Kate scooped me, and we sat on our mutual friend’s porch and smoked a cigarette, and talked about climbing, and life and then I told them everything: how crazy publishing is right now, the big things going on with my kids and woodworking business that I can’t fix. I got tears in my eyes and when I looked over at Kate, who is not a crier, she had tears in her eyes too. And I felt seen. Maybe you need a divorce, or a boob job, or a new car, or a ten-step skin care routine, or maybe you just need some friends who come pick you up.

4) Neighborhood Public Schools

My son and his friends a on a school trip to Washington D.C.

I went to my son’s 8th-grade graduation last week. I did not expect to find this so moving. I didn’t even want to go. I woke up in a bad mood because of the news. As Derek Thompson wrote that morning, “Within one 24-hour period, Trump: got out of a $100 million IRS fine, secured ‘immunity’ from all future tax investigations for his family and friends, created a $1.8 billion slush fund for his lawbreaking supporters, and was reported for likely insider trading worth nearly $1 billion.” I was so depressed that guys who admitted to assaulting cops on Jan. 6th who were already pardoned, were going to get millions, while all of us normies are stressed about gas prices. But I put on a dress and gathered the grandparents and went to the continuation ceremony.

Public schools are taking a beating in our culture. There is an insane level of fear-mongering about, of all things, sending your kid to school. Are we supposed to feel guilty about that now, too? It’s like feeling guilty about making your kid eat vegetables. But here we are.

On the Left, many wealthy parents send their kids to elite progressive private schools that “align with their values,” and on the Right, people like Candace Owens and Matt Walsh often encourage people not to send their kids to school at all. Homeschooling is touted as the only way to save your kid from “liberal indoctrination.” Or else a charter school where everyone shares your values. Of course, any one who is a teacher in any kind of school is a hero in my book, but where is all the hatred for public schools coming from?

I think it’s because public schools are, well, for the public. Lots of people are interested in building community in imaginary universes or private clubs where everyone’s politics and beliefs align. But real community doesn’t always give you the warm fuzzies.

I send my kids to the same schools that I went to. Schools they walk and bike to.

There’s lots of talk on the Right about how public schools indoctrinate kids into Marxism. This has not been my experience. My kids have some teachers and classmates who obviously lean Left and some who obviously lean Right. If public schools have indoctrinated my kids into anything it is, “Work hard and be nice.” You don’t have to fear that kid with a disability who waves his arms. He’s not scary, he’s Jack. And you don’t have to fear that Evangelical girl whose dad won’t let her date you, she’s just Carly. She’s alright. Anybody can wreck things, but what’s hard is building, fixing and maintaining things.

It is moving that somebody decided that we should all chip in so that all kids can go to school. Kids who are going to be nail techs, and kids who are going to be masters of the universe. Both.

What I saw inside at that graduation ceremony was just goodness. The auditorium was packed at 9 am on a Thursday. Grandparents, aunts, and parents had taken off work to celebrate their kids finishing middle school. The ceremony began with the Pledge of Allegiance. I include this for the “public schools don’t teach America’s founding principles” crowd. And then there were speeches and the band played and awards were given and the kids crossed the stage. I think this deserves a separate piece because I have so much to say. Stayed subscribed, a longer piece in defense of public education is forthcoming.

5) Doing Your Own Landscaping and Home Repairs

Wealthy people usually hire companies to landscape their yards. I have often fantasized about this. Instant gratification. Yellow plant. White plant. Yellow plant. White plant. Boom, you have a border. But, in reality, my garden means so much to me because it has been a lot of work. Like the old house we live in, we have worked on it little by little as time and money have allowed over the past 14 years doing it all ourselves. When we bought this building, there was no place to live above the shop. We built our apartment. We basically camped in the house with a baby for three years.

Likewise, when we moved in, there was no yard, just asphalt behind the main building. There was no fence. There was just dirt out by the street. We made a berm. We put in perennials. You can learn a lot from YouTube! Probably the best use of it.

Little by little, year after year, we’ve dug it all up and made it beautiful. A couple of hundred dollars at the dirt yard or the garden store at a time. We’ve planted four trees. A half dozen bushes. A few perennials every year. We made a sandbox. My husband lay down on the kitchen floor one night, his back hurt so much after a day spent laying sod. But I’m here to tell you that the IKEA effect is real. When you work to make something, you value it more in the end.

So, whatever you’re working on right now: your manuscript, your relationships, getting your teenager through a challenging season, getting in shape enough to run after your grandkids, know that it will mean that much more to you because you bled for it. Love the process. Laugh about the time you almost hit the gas line with a shovel or the time your friends came over and said, “This is where the baby sleeps?” And then come out in the evenings and admire your garden because you did that. It’s yours.