Thursday, January 19, 2023

Yes I am still here!



It has been so long since I wrote, that I have forgotten how to add a new entry into my blog. But now I'm back again....

These were words that my mother wrote a few days before she left us. She wanted you all to know that she was still fighting the good fight.

Here is the full obituary that the family wrote about her life. Her amazing presence is still here:

Loved by so many, Dr. Ann Weaver Nichols grew up in Los Angeles, CA. She went to John Marshall High School and thought she would be a secretary. A good guidance counselor saw her potential and encouraged her to apply to a scholarship for first generation students. She arrived on the Stanford Campus as the first in her family to attend college. She was active on campus with work study in the library and in the Freedom Summers traveling to register voters on spring breaks and summers. She established a program to enable students to spend Spring Break in service, which eventually became institutionalized at Stanford and exists to this day as the “Alternative Spring Break” program. She spent a semester in the Stanford Campus in France and was active in the student YWCA. While at Stanford, attending Friends Quaker Meeting, she met a young medical student and the love of her life, Andy, in 1964 and they were married after graduation in 1965. She and Andy joined the Peace Corps and spent two wonderful years in Peru where she taught community development. Ann went on to do a masters and Doctorate in social work from Colombia University.. She continued to be involved in the YWCA and served on the national board from 1969-82 and the World YWCA executive board in Geneva from 1975-83, culminating in hosting the World YWCA General Assembly in Phoenix in 1987. This power of community to transform informed all her work and she loved the global community of powerful women creating change.


Returning to Tucson in the fall of 1970, she joined the faculty of the ASU School of Social Work because there was no school of social work in Tucson. For years, with two small children in tow, she travelled up and down I-10 to teach classes in Tempe. Noticing that students were also commuting from Tucson to Tempe for classes, started in 1972, she offered a few courses in Tucson, carrying course materials in the back of her station wagon. A full degree program was launched in 1978 and she became the first director of the Arizona State University Social Work program, Tucson Component. She ran the program from 1978- 2008 and the thousands of students who studied with her know the power of her teaching – many programs in Southern Arizona were started as class assignments to identify community needs and respond, including the loved Information and Resource Center and the Coalition of Human Services. Her text book that she co-authored “Initiating Change in Organizations and Communities went through multiple printings. Annually, Ann would create an Alternative Budget, tracking all the bills in the legislature and then teach how the state legislature could be fully funding human services as part of a balanced budget. In 1996 and 2000, Ann worked tirelessly to help Arizonans get healthcare by supporting the Healthy Arizona Initiative - especially with cookies for the volunteers.

Sabbaticals were used to practice social work globally. Twice she worked in Uganda with the YWCA, developing a community-based organizing movement across the country. In 2008 she retired after 39 years at ASU, only to join the faculty at the Mindolo Ecumenical Foundation in Zambia teaching social work. For two years, she helped update the national curriculum and taught community change. Her Zambian students are still running new programs around Kitwe that they created as a part of her course.

On her return to the US, she developed a new passion through personal experience of grandparents raising grandchildren. She became the first chair of the Arizona Grandparent Ambassadors, an advocacy network for grandparents raising their grandchildren and other kinship network families. Among other more traditional efforts, every year the grandparents would write Valentines and take cookies to the legislature to help them remember the kin-care families. Seven years of lobbying paid off as finally, in 2022, the legislature changed state law to provide additional support.

Her academic research was broad but uniformly focused on the power of people to create change. She wrote about restorative justice, people making policy, and the role of forgiveness in public policy. She presented to NASW on working for change in tough times and resilience and survival skills for activists. Her final major research and writing was on the macro-concepts of forgiveness – how to help nations transform after traumatic conflicts with possible forgiveness structures and exercises for organizations, communities, and nations. She was awarded Social Worker of the Year by NASW and presented a lifetime achievement award by the ASU School of Social Work. She won the national Jefferson Award. Most recently, in November 2022, the she received the Advocacy Award from the Center for Economic Integrity in recognition of her work on kincare.

Her faith community has always been a source of strength and inspiration. She was the chair of the International Social Workers and Spirituality Network, hosting four conferences on social workers who integrated faith practices to meet community needs. She spent years struggling against the death penalty, was named Abolitionist of the Year by [ORG] and wrote cards and letters to every single person on Death Row in Arizona since the 1990s. She taught Alternatives to Violence courses in the federal prison and together with the American Friends Service Committee and now Just Communities. She worked with reintegration for people after time served as well as facilitating Outmates, a family support network to help families who were navigating the prison system. She was never hesitant to stand up for the goodness in people and the power of restorative justice. In Tucson, she helped to found Women Confronting Racism, a group that met monthly to address issues of racism in the Tucson community for over a decade and treasured those friends.

She and Andy were active members of First Christian Church, and members of FCC and other faith organizations remained her extended family for 50 years. Ann played many roles over the years, currently serving as the church moderator. She also loved her two other faith communities - First Congregational Church and the Community of Christ in the Desert. They gave her sustenance as she believed strongly in activism that comes out of deep faith. There was rarely a week without multiple worship experiences and in the last few years, she focused on writing beautiful liturgies.

Ann lost Andy in 2001, and became a widow at 59 with three biological children and five adopted children. This wide family knows “Nana” to be the true matriarch of unconditional love and support. Ann is survived by her brother Sam Weaver, and her children Cathy and Asher (El’ad, Noa and Matan); Michael and Carissa (Audrey); Miles and Alexa; Mardi and Paul (Odyssey, Johnathan, Joshua); Nassau and Scott (Johvan, Nick, Evan and Bradley); Johnnary (Johnnary); Mexi and Dan (Sydney, Jayline, Brendan, and Camilla); Haley and Manny (Johnnary and Penelope). She loved all her children and especially all of her grandchildren. Her last gift was a book of recipes this Christmas with her famous cookie recipes passed down so that traditions will continue.

If you would like to donate in her honor, she asked that gifts be given to JustCommunities, fostering new models for community safety outside the punishment system, or the Ann Nichols Scholarship Fund to help students committed to social change attend the School of Social Work. Memorial services will be held on Saturday, September 2, 2023 at the ASU School of Social Work340 N. Commerce Loop for mural painting and stories from 9:30 am - 11:30 am and then a Celebration of Life on Sunday, September 3, 2023 at 3 pm at First Christian Church, 740 E. Speedway Blvd., Tucson, Arizona - with a reception of homemade cookies to follow (and if you are inspired, bring some to share.)

Ann Nichols, Presente!






Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Masked, Distancing, Confined and Wondering

Two months ago, I wrote about our extended family of 10 people sheltering in place together.  Our numbers have gradually decreased, until I’m now living alone in the main house.  A granddaughter who is an essential worker stays in the studio that has its own entrance and facilities.  The restoration of silence and space brings its own gifts, but there is no doubt that it is more eventful and enriching to live with close-knit family in residence.

Friends call and ask, “How are you doing?”  “As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” I’m likely to reply.  It can be hard to distinguish how much of my response is influenced by the pandemic, and how much is due to the status of my cancer.  Here are my reflections on each.

By now, I’ve had three of the four planned Lutathera radiation infusions to treat the metastatic spread of the cancer.  My oncologist says that after the last treatment takes place September 29 we will know more about my condition and prognosis.  The unpleasant GI side effects are under better control. No pain is a good sign.  I move slowly and stiffly and sometimes have issues with memory and slight confusion.  Might be due to age as much as disease.  As I work on building exercise into my daily life, Ruth Bader Ginsberg is my role model.  My kids observe that I still beat them at Scrabble and am capable of preparing a full meal complete with homemade baked goods. My engagement in the community continues.  I sense a strong life force within.  My spirit is continually renewed by the support of Andy, my family, faith communities and friends.  And hope persists.

With respect to the pandemic, I admit to feeling hug-deprived.  Time-confused as days blend into one another.  Missing seeing smiles as we go about masked. Longing to sit with friends in a restaurant and be served.  Depressed by the news full of evidence of suffering, neglect, oppression, violence and manipulation.  Disgusted by the stupidity, spinelessness, partisanship and callousness of so many of our political figures.  Fearful of the economic  distress facing the unemployed and low wage workers as we fail to invest in the social safety net or provide fair compensation for essential workers. Yearning to have my grandchildren safely back attending in-person school.  Hoping for the survival of small businesses in the community.  Praying for a fair and free election with full participation.  And so much more. 

 I’m with many of you in wondering if and when it will ever end.  And how will we know when it does? It’s not like we can sign a treaty and declare a victory, a cessation of hostilities.  Or mark the end in some ceremonial way.  A vaccine will certainly mark progress, but its effectiveness will depend on how many are willing to trust and be vaccinated.  The pandemic may seem to end in phases, freeing different groups of people in waves—children, youth, people of color, the healthy, the old, and immuno-compromised people at the last.  Risks will still be there for a long time.  Tolerance for risks will vary according to the advice of experts and the individual’s level of fear or sense of caution.   What if it never ends, only shrinks and fades in imperceptible ways, leaving the person alone with decision-making about re-entering social engagement? 

And as we re-enter social life together, how will the world have changed?  What have we learned?  Are we willing to speak truth to power? Find ways to promote nonviolent and meaningful change?  Will we continue to commit to grappling with racism and white supremacy?  Will we pay attention to the poor?  Will we invest again in public health? Will we build more affordable housing?  Create and strengthen a network of community mental health services?  Re-orient our approach to criminal behavior to emphasize problem-solving and restorative justice?  How will we support our public safety officers so they can genuinely protect and secure communities?  Can we achieve reasonable measures of gun control?  Learn to have civil conversations in which we differ respectfully and listen to one another?  Confront in ourselves and others tendencies toward greed and self-centeredness?  I believe that it will take both kinds of commitment to reach the Beloved Community:  investment in personal changes of habit and priorities, and investment in creating change in social policies and institutions to promote a society based on peace and justice, freedom and dignity for all people.  End of sermon, and let it be so.  With guides like John Lewis, and the energy of new young leaders willing to engage in “good trouble”, it may come to pass.

Words of wisdom for these days:

Blessing in the Chaos

 To all that is chaotic

in you,

let there come silence.

 

Let there be

a calming

of the clamoring,

a stilling

of the voices that

have laid their claim

on you,

that have made their

home in you,

that go with you

even to the

holy places

but will not

let you rest,

will not let you

hear your life

with wholeness

or feel the grace

that fashioned you.

 

Let what distracts you

cease.

Let what divides you

cease.

Let there come an end

to what diminishes

and demeans,

and let depart

all that keeps you

in its cage.

 

Let there be

an opening

into the quiet

that lies beneath

the chaos,

 

where you find

the peace

you did not think

possible

and see what shimmers

within the storm.                                                                                                                                               -       Jan Richardson The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

 

 The Gates of Hope

Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope—

Not the prudent gates of Optimism,

Which are somewhat narrower.

Not the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense;

Nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness,

Which creak on shrill and angry hinges

(People cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through)

Nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of
“Everything is gonna’ be all right.”

But a different, sometimes lonely place,

The place of truth-telling,

About your own soul first of all and its condition.

The place of resistance and defiance,

The piece of ground from which you see the world

Both as it is and as it could be

As it will be;

The place from which you glimpse not only struggle,

But the joy of the struggle.

And we stand there, beckoning and calling,

Telling people what we are seeing

Asking people what they see.”

Victoria Safford, the minister of White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church, in Mahtomedi, Minnesota (www.unitarian.org/whitebear)

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 


Friday, June 5, 2020

Where are we headed?



It’s been six weeks since I last wrote a blog entry on April 25.  Six more weeks of sheltering at home.  As I wrote last time, we have been a household of 10-11 people, crowded together, with all the joys and tensions such an extended visit brings. (A visit with limited opportunities to leave confinement, except for walks in the neighborhood and trips out for essentials.) Recently, we decided to write a newsletter highlighting some of our more interesting adventures.  This endeavor is still in process, with headlines such as “Attack of the Giant Moths,” “Hidden Treasures Found in Garage,” “Cat Causes Chaos,” “Rescue of Two-Year-Old Audrey Accidentally Locked in Upstairs Bedroom,”  and “Battle of the Javelinas and Underwear Man.” When it is finished, I’ll put a link on my Facebook page.

Like most people, I’ve experienced a degree of anxiety and have been grieving the pandemic’s effects on the world and our nation.  I’ve seen the faults and limitations it has revealed in our health care system, the political manipulation and corrupt response of our President, and the struggles of public health experts to be heard as they attempted to guide our response to this unique challenge.  The disproportionate number of deaths from COVID-19 within the African American, Latinx and Native American populations is shocking.   I haven’t been surprised by the competition between those more concerned with the impact of COVID-19 on the economy and those concerned with the needs of the community for protection from illness and help with basic needs. I’ve been impressed by great acts of courage and compassion as networks of mutual aid have developed in neighborhoods and as “essential workers” have carried on despite risks of contracting the virus.  I’ve been disappointed by the selfish disregard of those who would not wear masks and who consider their personal freedom to be infringed by the protective measures set by governors and mayors.  And I found amazing resources on the Internet.  If you haven’t seen it, I recommend the You Tube version of “Bolero” produced by the Julliard School of Music.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqzkn-jX-JU

Then came the video of George Floyd revealing the all too familiar death of a Black man at the hands of the police.  This time, it seems to be a tipping point.  No one could justify the action of the police officer who knelt on George’s neck as he struggled for breath, or the three officers who stood by and watched.  It reminded me of all the other recent cases of such abuse of power and loss of life.  It has made the “Black Lives Matter” movement gain new allies. It’s focused attention on the many manifestations of racism in our society:  mass incarceration, police brutality, racial disparities in health care, higher unemployment rates, greater poverty…the list goes on.  As was happening all over the country and even the world, our family (except me) made signs, donned masks and joined in a peaceful demonstration.  But we know that it is not enough, it is only a beginning of the accounting and action that must happen before there is any healing, any change in our system.  And we know that not all demonstrations were peaceful, that they were met by military-style police response in many communities.  But not all.  There were courageous acts of solidarity of protestors and police officials together in a number of communities including ours. Signs of hope.

As the unrest settles, I’m left with deep questions about the pervasive racism in America and our desire to do something about it.  How do we begin?  What actions can we take? How do we keep the momentum, when we know that our national response to crises is often short-term and insufficient?  How do we promote dialogue and repair when the problem is so massive?  My son-in-law who directs the Kroc Institute for International Peace Studies at Notre Dame University hosted a webinar yesterday on “Race, Violence, and Protest” which was viewed by over 600 people and is available online.  The complexities of the issues were exposed by the different presenters.  I’m afraid that many of us will become so overwhelmed by the vastness and embeddedness of racism in the fabric and structure of our society that we will be paralyzed when we most need to be mobilized. But we must confront the temptation to despair or to allow compassion fatigue to take over. 

I hope that you might share with friends and family ways you find hope and the courage to engage in action to dismantle racism and build a more compassionate, just, peaceful and kind community. We are all in this together, and we need to support each other as we find ways to engage.

Even small actions can help.  A friend and I have signed up with a project developed by the NAACP to fight voter suppression in a state that has “cleansed” their voter rolls.  We are sending hand-written postcards with information alerting the recipient that they may have lost their registration and giving information on how to check and re-register if needed.  For those of us concerned particularly about racism in our border policies and policing, there are organizations that need financial support for their ongoing human rights and anti-racism work here in Arizona.

Perhaps I should mention my health, since this is a blog about cancer and hope.  All is going well.  My second Lutathera radiation treatment is scheduled for next week, and I will give an update after that.  I feel well on the whole and am grateful for my family’s close care and all the prayers and good wishes from friends and my faith communities.  I’ll close with a prayer:
Nadia Bolz-Weber’s Prayer, May 31, 2020
God whose name has been used to enslave those who bear your image, 
God whose name has been used to steal this land and kill those who bear your image,
God whose name was called upon by Moses and Miriam and Martin Luther King Jr and Sojourner Truth, Brionna Taylor and George Floyd.
God who raised up prophets to speak truth to power, and poets to speak truth to stupid,
We call on your holy name to give us what we need to undo what has been done in your name. 
We call on your name to bring your fierce mercy upon us and remove our complacency and our complicity. 
We call on your name to heal the wounds of those whose daily reality we do not understand.
We call on your name to give us a holy curiosity about what being Black in America is really like, Lord. 
We call on your name to free us from our cherished notions of being “good” that keep us from hearing this truth,
We call on your name to give us this day our daily truth, our daily humility, our daily rage, our daily hope.
This country is burning Lord…may is be a cleansing Holy Spirit fire.
Guide us to believe that the true name of God is stronger than what has been done in God’s name.
Come, Holy Spirit.   
Amen.



Saturday, April 25, 2020

Family Ties




Recovery from the radiation infusion has gone well, with only a few side effects, mainly in the GI system. No unusual fatigue this time.  On this journey, it has been my faith communities, friends, and extended family that have helped me stay “calm and collected,” as my grandmother would put it.  I’ve felt surrounded by love, protection, and light.  A good medical team has planned and carried out the physical interventions needed, but the spiritual care is just as important.  I cannot control the changes that are happening within my body.  It helps to know that my mind and spirit can be strengthened by the support of my spiritual team (including all of you) as well as my personal meditation and prayer practices.

I have felt Andy’s spirit near me in these days.  Last Sunday, April 19, was the 19th anniversary of his death.  Most years I’m by myself on that day, but this year there are 10 family members all together sheltering during the pandemic.  So we had a family dinner with some of his favorite foods.  I thought how happy he would be if he could join us, not only to enjoy good, familiar food, but also to hear three languages being used at the table--English, Hebrew, and Mandarin, with an occasional comment in Spanish just to help the kids in their studies.  He tried to pass a bill when he served in the Legislature to require foreign language instruction beginning in grade one and continuing through 12th grade in our public schools.  It didn’t pass.  He believed in the value of understanding another culture and its language and world view as a way to encourage inclusiveness and deepen our appreciation of diversity.  And I think of him often these days for the support he secured for rural and border health programs when he was alive.  It would hurt his heart to see the deterioration of the health care system today,  but he would be encouraged by the commitment of many candidates and advocacy groups to build a system that provides health care for all.

One activity I dreamed up to involve our family in something fun during this time of confinement was a contest, complete with prizes, intended for all to join.  Three days were given to create some kind of art using items found on our property.  Cathy was the judge, and everyone produced something.  Some submissions were drawings or paintings, there was a mini-movie, a time progression video of a spectacular sunset, two photo collages, and an amazing sculpture entitled Junk in the Desert . My photo collage of plants and flowers growing in the desert surrounding our house is below.  Each participant in the contest received a small prize, items encountered when we worked on cleaning the garage or from my gift closet.  It was fun!

 
Resources
Some of you may have engaged with BrenĂ© Brown’s writings or her TED talk on vulnerability.  She has developed a podcast called “Unlocking Us.”  In the first offering, recorded on March 20, she talks about FFT’s (Freaking First Times—but I toned down the first “F”).  She points out that the first time we try to do something, it’s hard, we often make mistakes, we don’t know exactly what to do.  Living through a pandemic is an FFT for all of us.  She explains some of the dynamics of FFT’s and offers some suggestions on navigating them.  The podcast is free, and I highly recommend it.  Also her TED talk.

And here’s a prayer for our times by Nadia Bolz-Weber:

Dear God,
Some of us are exhausted by a constant stream of bad news.
Some of us are exhausted from the effort of trying to not freak out.
Some of us are exhausted by not knowing how we will pay rent.
Some of us are exhausted from the effort of trying to entertain and educate and feed and love children who are stuck at home.
Some of us are exhausted by the 13 hour shifts in a hospital we no longer recognize, working a job we are afraid might kill us.
Some of us showed up to this pandemic with pre-existing  physical and mental health conditions that were already exhausting. 
Some of us are exhausted by loneliness.
Some of us are exhausted by waiting so long for a new season of Succession.
And some of us are exhausted by the effort of trying to make this all ok for everyone else.
Life is so strained and tender right now.
I know that not a single one of us is promised another day, God.
But I guess I am asking for the strength for just the one we are in. 
Give us today our daily strength
Strength for today, and if you could spare it, bright hope for tomorrow.
AMEN.
p.s. HOSANNA in the highest

And I’m comforted by listening to the song “Deep Peace” by Sara Thompsen




Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Radioactive again




Help!  I’m being held prisoner in a bedroom!  Well, yes, it is my own bedroom with an attached bath.  Due to my new treatment and my radioactive status, I’m not allowed in the kitchen or near my grandchildren who are in other parts of the house.  Cathy or Michael and I communicate by cell phone when I need something. Old memory: I got my first mobile phone during the Katrina disaster.  Tucson was expecting a large number of displaced people, and we were setting up various services within different locations at the Convention Center.  It was essential to have cell phones to plan and network. Much more effective  than shouting.

Even my granddaughter Odyssey’s kitten, who loves to nap on my lap, is forbidden to be with me now.  We have observed that cats, unlike dogs, are unwilling to obey commands.  This independent kitty is Houdini-like in finding ways to disappear and reappear in any space she wants to occupy, so watching out for her antics keeps the rest of the family on their toes.

This confinement will last for 3 days, after which I still need to try to keep a distance of three feet from people for the next 14 days.  My clothes and towels need to be washed separately from the rest of the family.  Lots of precautions to keep everyone safe.  Before being allowed to leave the clinic my level of radioactivity had to be measured by a Geiger Counter to assure that it was low enough.  The machine looked ancient, but functional.

We met with my new oncologist last week by phone and yesterday, before the Lutathera treatment, on a video call.  I like him and the transition is happening smoothly.  We should know in a couple of weeks how effective the new treatment is.  I’m only the fourth person in Pima County to receive it. 

The 10 of us living together celebrated Passover and Easter  last week.  We observed these holidays in new and flexible ways, given the pandemic and its constraints.  Fortunately we are more concerned with the spirit of these occasions rather than orthodoxy.  Creativity rocks!  We also recognize how deeply we appreciate the value and importance of  family gatherings and traditions as part of the glue that sticks us together and affirms our identity.


I’ve found many rich resources online during the season of Lent and Easter, and resources shared by other faith traditions to help us through quarantining.  Prayers, stories of acts of kindness, music shared through the internet, educational seminars, all have nurtured my spirit.  I will include here one reflection that has helped me.

Blessing in the Chaos

To all that is chaotic
in you,
let there come silence.

Let there be
a calming
of the clamoring,
a stilling
of the voices that
have laid their claim
on you,
that have made their
home in you,

that go with you
even to the
holy places
but will not
let you rest,
will not let you
hear your life
with wholeness
or feel the grace
that fashioned you.

Let what distracts you
cease.
Let what divides you
cease.
Let there come an end
to what diminishes
and demeans,
and let depart
all that keeps you
in its cage.

Let there be
an opening
into the quiet
that lies beneath
the chaos,
where you find
the peace
you did not think
possible
and see what shimmers
within the storm.

- Jan Richardson