Langston Hughes published a poem about his ancestors:
The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.
The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.
Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.
Mr. Hughes was referencing his slave ancestors, but I find it applicable to anyone’s set of people.
With the girls returning to BYU to continue with their education, there has been a lot of moaning and sadness about heading back to Utah. I can’t say that I blame them. Back in the day, I pretty much hated living in Provo when John and I were students there. We felt extremely isolated, living among people who only socialized with their own kind, namely their families. There would be a mass exodus every holiday and on special weekends when young couples left Provo to go stay at the nearby palatial and loving homes of their parents. With the advent of 30 years of time between then and now, I think that the gap between non-Utahns and Utahns has grown even wider.
I have almost felt a physical sickness as I have seen both of my girls develop feelings of anxiety and depression as the time for them to head to Utah nears. Just like Ethan and Mark, they hate it here. Mark was the only child brave enough to not be swayed by the cheap tuition of the university, and he enjoyed many blissful years in Michigan, but for the rest, it has been a test of endurance.
The Spirit of Elijah has been defined by David A. Bednar as a distinctive influence of the Holy Ghost that draws people to identify, document and cherish their ancestors and family members—both past and present. I believe it is the Spirit of Elijah that gives John a sense of never-before-found peace every time he visits Ireland. I believe it’s what brought me back to Michigan. These are our people.
We can look around and see people whose spirits share similarities with us. They speak like we do; their feelings reflect our own; and, they hold dear what we value. I’m only here in Utah for short stints of time, and yet I leave feeling like I don’t meet the mark, like I can’t keep up, like I’m an outlier. And my poor children are left to navigate this swamp for years at a time. It’s almost destructive to their psyches.
This past summer, we became acquainted with the Barneys’ second oldest child, Ridge. He was put on probation because a roommate of his reported him for playing video games that the roommate felt were inappropriate (they aren’t), and for listening to rap music. I have known kids who have never once been turned into the authorities at BYU despite refusing to attend church.
I’m brought to tears when Glo tells me that she just wants to breathe fresh air and walk through a forest of green trees and hear the birds. When Hannah tells me that no matter what she does, she just doesn’t fit in. I feel like I'm about to tear my hair out every time I have to drive a couple of miles across town--the endless construction, the traffic lights that cycle every three to four minutes, the loosey-goosey way of driving, and the lack of obedience to traffic signs by every Utah driver. I breathe a literal sigh of relief when I step off the plane in Michigan (or even PA), knowing that I left my feelings of insecurity back along the Wasatch Front.
And while it's a really beautiful thing that I have created a family unit that my hairdresser describes as completely intimidating because we are so freaking tight, it makes it hard to venture out into the world that doesn't include our core Kennedys.
However....
and this is a very BIG however....
it's important to embrace the good of any place where we live, or any situation that we enter, or any people who surround us, and make the best of it. We can choose to be miserable at any time and refuse to leave that state of mind until we are physically removed from it, or we can look for the good. Tonight while driving around (imagine Cruella DeVille when she's chasing the puppies), I saw the temple on the hill and thought how great it is that the temple is so close for my girls. I stopped in at my favorite bakery, Sweet Tooth Fairy, and was given six whole cupcakes for free because they were about to close. And my returned missionary daughter is currently living for free at BYU because she was given a Resident Advisor job while still on her mission.
There are good things.
We can sit around and hate what Life has dealt us and wish for something different, but we lose so much time in our lives. Everything we do is part of God's plan--the good and the bad. We may not feel the Spirit of Elijah where we are living because it doesn't have a genealogical connection for us. It sucks. But it is what it is.
That being said, I am extremely grateful for the eyes and faces of my people. They are indeed beautiful.
The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.
The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.
Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.
Mr. Hughes was referencing his slave ancestors, but I find it applicable to anyone’s set of people.
With the girls returning to BYU to continue with their education, there has been a lot of moaning and sadness about heading back to Utah. I can’t say that I blame them. Back in the day, I pretty much hated living in Provo when John and I were students there. We felt extremely isolated, living among people who only socialized with their own kind, namely their families. There would be a mass exodus every holiday and on special weekends when young couples left Provo to go stay at the nearby palatial and loving homes of their parents. With the advent of 30 years of time between then and now, I think that the gap between non-Utahns and Utahns has grown even wider.
I have almost felt a physical sickness as I have seen both of my girls develop feelings of anxiety and depression as the time for them to head to Utah nears. Just like Ethan and Mark, they hate it here. Mark was the only child brave enough to not be swayed by the cheap tuition of the university, and he enjoyed many blissful years in Michigan, but for the rest, it has been a test of endurance.
The Spirit of Elijah has been defined by David A. Bednar as a distinctive influence of the Holy Ghost that draws people to identify, document and cherish their ancestors and family members—both past and present. I believe it is the Spirit of Elijah that gives John a sense of never-before-found peace every time he visits Ireland. I believe it’s what brought me back to Michigan. These are our people.
We can look around and see people whose spirits share similarities with us. They speak like we do; their feelings reflect our own; and, they hold dear what we value. I’m only here in Utah for short stints of time, and yet I leave feeling like I don’t meet the mark, like I can’t keep up, like I’m an outlier. And my poor children are left to navigate this swamp for years at a time. It’s almost destructive to their psyches.
This past summer, we became acquainted with the Barneys’ second oldest child, Ridge. He was put on probation because a roommate of his reported him for playing video games that the roommate felt were inappropriate (they aren’t), and for listening to rap music. I have known kids who have never once been turned into the authorities at BYU despite refusing to attend church.
I’m brought to tears when Glo tells me that she just wants to breathe fresh air and walk through a forest of green trees and hear the birds. When Hannah tells me that no matter what she does, she just doesn’t fit in. I feel like I'm about to tear my hair out every time I have to drive a couple of miles across town--the endless construction, the traffic lights that cycle every three to four minutes, the loosey-goosey way of driving, and the lack of obedience to traffic signs by every Utah driver. I breathe a literal sigh of relief when I step off the plane in Michigan (or even PA), knowing that I left my feelings of insecurity back along the Wasatch Front.
And while it's a really beautiful thing that I have created a family unit that my hairdresser describes as completely intimidating because we are so freaking tight, it makes it hard to venture out into the world that doesn't include our core Kennedys.
However....
and this is a very BIG however....
it's important to embrace the good of any place where we live, or any situation that we enter, or any people who surround us, and make the best of it. We can choose to be miserable at any time and refuse to leave that state of mind until we are physically removed from it, or we can look for the good. Tonight while driving around (imagine Cruella DeVille when she's chasing the puppies), I saw the temple on the hill and thought how great it is that the temple is so close for my girls. I stopped in at my favorite bakery, Sweet Tooth Fairy, and was given six whole cupcakes for free because they were about to close. And my returned missionary daughter is currently living for free at BYU because she was given a Resident Advisor job while still on her mission.There are good things.
We can sit around and hate what Life has dealt us and wish for something different, but we lose so much time in our lives. Everything we do is part of God's plan--the good and the bad. We may not feel the Spirit of Elijah where we are living because it doesn't have a genealogical connection for us. It sucks. But it is what it is.
That being said, I am extremely grateful for the eyes and faces of my people. They are indeed beautiful.
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