Dad and Independence Day

I’m an immigrant’s kid. I didn’t give that much thought as I grew up. My grandparents died long before I could know them, so I heard nothing about my heritage from them. Dad was naturalized, and that was that.

I eventually learned that he had earned his naturalization the hard way. He had an undying suspicion, possibly justified, that those of us who are birthright citizens take for granted things like the Constitution.

Dad came to the United States from Canada when he was a child. He grew up American in all but the legal sense. I take it from his stories that my grandmother never quite got over leaving francophone Canada, but Dad never shared her nostalgia.

Pearl Harbor was attacked two weeks before Dad turned 19. He was in the U.S. Army before the month was out, assigned to the Pacific theater as a medical corpsman. Two years later, somewhere in the South Pacific, he and a few fellow soldiers were summoned into the presence of their group’s commanding officer.

To their surprise, they were told that they were being sworn in as United States citizens. There had been no advance notice of any kind. One soldier ventured to ask, “Aren’t we supposed to pass a test?” “You passed it,” said the officer.

No exam. No ceremony with flags and photographers. Just a motley crew of soldiers born in random countries, quickly becoming American citizens before going back outside to tend to the wounded.

Dad told me this story shortly before he died. He almost never talked with my sister and me about the war, but in his last days, he was happy to share the story of how he became a citizen. It helped me understand more deeply why Fourth of July celebrations meant so much to him.

As I said, he earned his naturalization the hard way. He treasured his citizenship. Even when our country’s leaders seemed to be steering things in the wrong direction – and Dad aired his opinions about such things – he loved this country. Never jingoistic, always patriotic. Always ready to speak up, never willing to shout down. He set a good example.

I write this on Independence Day as my neighbors are setting off fireworks. I’m normally averse to such noise. As an immigrant’s kid, though, I’m loving this. Tonight’s noise is about the Declaration of Independence. It’s about the Constitution and its preamble, and how we’re still reaching for a more perfect union. And it’s about a man 9000 miles from home, just barely an adult, being told “you passed it.”

I hope there may yet be immigrants’ kids whose parents have stories like that to tell.

Open Book: Meeting authors

I was recently lucky enough to meet an author whose books and journalism I’ve enjoyed for years. I’ve also been reunited with an acquaintance who was at college with me many years ago, and who has since written something special . It’s fun to be able to thank writers in person.

The long-ago college friend is now Sister Patricia Marie Barnette, RGS (Religious of the Good Shepherd). As a licensed professional counselor, her work has included post-abortion counseling. I was surprised and delighted when she gave me a copy of her book God’s Mercy Awaits You: Find Healing After Abortion (Pauline Books and Media, 2020). In the slim but rich volume, she distills her faith and experience into practical help and encouragement for post-abortive women. She addresses how abortion affects men, and how friends can assist someone struggling to come to terms with an abortion. This is a life-affirming book in every way.

Kathryn Jean Lopez might be best known for her journalism. She’s a Catholic pro-life writer steeped in politics and current events: my kind of person. When she spoke at a conference in my area, I got my ticket early. Being able to greet her and thank her for her edifying work made the trip worthwhile. Her book A Year With the Mystics (St. Benedict Press, 2019) is downloaded to both my phone and tablet. Its guide to daily prayer and meditation is a Catholic resource to appreciate.

Sparks of life and mercy

I cheer for writers the way I cheer for the Red Sox. Once a writer – especially a nonfiction essayist – catches my eye, I’ll look for events where I can say “thank you” in person. Such a writer is Kathryn Jean Lopez, a journalist with a deep-rooted prolife commitment. When she appeared recently at a Massachusetts Citizens for Life conference to speak on the theme “Life After Roe: a time of radical challenge and opportunity”, I knew I had to go.

Kathryn Jean Lopez. Photo: nrinstitute.org

Lopez has written and reported extensively on politics, the life issues, culture, and Catholicism, always with a keen eye. So what does she make of this messy post-Roe culture of ours?

I soon learned that while her essays and reportage are marked by focus, her public speaking is of another order: one story after another in an energetic stream-of-consciousness style. She seemed to shoot off sparks, illuminating one point then another in rapid-fire style that rendered my note-taking nearly useless.

She talked about people. not politics. As one story flowed into another, she made clear where roots need to be cultivated: between people, in one-on-one conversation and service.

“We need to double down on the mercy,” post-Roe. She kept coming back to mercy, and to patience as well. “Being patient with everyone [is key to] life after Roe.” She urged extending that patience to people spreading misinformation about the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision. “Assume that people just don’t know. Assume best intentions.”

Lopez is a sidewalk counselor outside a New York abortion facility on a regular basis. She’s a journalist by vocation, and praying on sidewalks was definitely not in her skill set at first. Yet that has become part of her commitment, incorporating prayer and encounter into her life’s work. And those encounters don’t stop once an abortion is over. “We have to be hyper-sensitive to the needs of post-abortive women.”

What moved her to join sidewalk ministry? Seeing medical waste trucks outside the abortion facility, and realizing that the “waste” included human remains. She refused to turn away. In her professional work, she shares with her readers and listeners why they shouldn’t turn away, either.

“Pro-lifers need to have an examination of conscience,” always acting in ways that are merciful, and not just on the sidewalk: for one example, she cited the need to promote policies that support adoption and foster care.

“Think creatively. You never know what you’re being used for….Even those close to us need to know we will love them, not judge them.”

As a Catholic, she noted that the “Walking with moms in need” initiative of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has not yet taken off in a big way. She encouraged her listeners to discover the program. I’m Catholic myself, and I hadn’t been familiar with it. I’m learning about it now.

Here was a journalist, intensely practical, politically savvy, who could have spent an hour talking about strategy and lobbying and state-level legislation. In a room full of activists, that would have struck a familiar if not comfortable note. Instead, with each story she shared – with each spark, so to speak – she illuminated a way forward that isn’t paved with laws and court decisions.

Listening, serving one-on-one, being patient, extending mercy every day in big and little ways: those are precisely the challenges and opportunities that Kathryn Jean Lopez came to talk about. She spoke with urgency, as if she were afraid she’d run out of time before her work was done.

I’m writing this several weeks after hearing her speak at Assumption University. I mentioned earlier that taking notes during her speech was hard, because she kept moving from story to story. She forced me to listen to her whole message, not just listen for the occasional catchy quote (though I did my best to capture some). As a veteran of the public-policy aspect of pro-life work, I needed to hear what she had to say. She left an impression on me while I’m still in the process of decompressing from years of State House work.

You’re not done, she seemed to be saying. There’s better work ahead.

My thanks to Massachusetts Citizens for Life for hosting the convention at which I heard Ms. Lopez speak.