Sometime over the weekend the page was turned. Gone are the cheerful sundresses, bright colors, and airy sandals. Gone is the lightness of spirit and genial air of conviviality among my fellow Chicagoans.
The wind howled last night and the virgin radiators hissed their warm greeting while we slept beneath our comforters, windows closed.
As I wade through the commuter stream this morning, we are clothed now head to toe -- somber grays, blacks, browns. Neutral, while the chilled wind whips our hair about. Do our expressions match our attire? There is an excitment, an anticipation of the splendour of fall, but it competes for space with the dread of quickly approaching winter.
With the liveliness and oppressive cheerfulness of summer behind us, we loosen the chains of our darker, melancholy and reflective selves. Solemn contemplation is now our sport as we enter the season of waiting.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Invented Good
Every once in a while there comes a moment when the good you worked so hard to see in someone turns out to be all your own invention. Or maybe that only happens to me because I'm not so good at discerning character? Whatever the case, I seem to have adopted a "see with my own eyes" policy because I can't change my mind about a person until they have, without a shadow of a doubt, proved me wrong. It's actually amazing how good I am at rationalizing behavior (quite elaborately, I might add) and handing out benefit-of-the-doubts like it was my job.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
A Litany of Prayer for the Uninsured and Under-Insured
As read in church this morning:
Reader: We are the millions of men and women in our national community who--for a variety of reasons: downsizing, outsourcing, restructuring--will wake up one day this year to learn that we no longer have a job. Added to the stress of finding a new job, we'll also have to figure out how to continue to provide health care for our families. If we are fortunate to have health insurance, we will be faced with paying more at a time when we are trying to make due with less.
We are the 4 million people in our national community who will celebrate a 19th birthday this next year. As we blow out the candles on the cake, we may be marking the loss of our health insurance. Our society will ensure that if we call the fire department, someone will respond. It will not offer us the same guarantee for our health.
We are the 5 million children in our national community whose lack of health insurance sets up a barrier to good health. We are children in a nation that works to make sure we each have a basic education. We are chilren in a nation which ignores that we need a similar guarantee for health care.
We are the 30 million workers between the ages of 18 and 64 who earn less than $9 an hour. Those of us who work full-time earn $18,800 a year. Many of us are the store clerks, mechanics, dry cleaners, and restaurant workers you meet. Our nation relies on our work to keep America humming along. We typically have no health insurance. We make too much to get health care from public health programs. We often end up in emergency rooms for care because we have no other place to go.
We are the owners of small businesses, those businesses with less than 100 workers. We employ 38 million people in communities across the country. We support the local little league team and sponsor civic events. Because of the high cost, we often are unable to provide the proctection of health insurance for our employees.
We are the six of every 10 people in the United States who are lucky enough to have jobs that offer health insurance for our families. And yet, each year, we find that we are paying more. Deductibles and co-payments keep going up. More and more things are not covered by our insurance, which means we have to pay for them. As a result, many of us--people who own homes, who had full-time employment and insurance before getting ill--will declare bankruptcy because of our medical bills.
We are the 18,000 people who will die this year because we do not have the security of health care that comes with having insurance. Out of pride, out of shame, out of fear--or because we simply don't have the money to go to the doctor--we will ignore signs that our health may be in jeopardy. If we do get medical attention it will be too late.
We are the uncounted millions for whom preventative health care and a healthy lifestyle are a struggle. We live in the inner city where fresh fruit and vegetables are not available in our markets. We live in rural communitites with no doctors. The color of our skin or our gender disproportionately impacts the diagnosis and treatment of a medical condition.
Response: You are or have been one of us. We know or have known others. We care for you and we pray for you, remembering that we are all brothers and sisters.
Adapted from "Readings from the Uninsured" in "Vision and Voice: Faithful Citizens and Health Care," Session 1, accessed at www.visionandvoice.org.
Reader: We are the millions of men and women in our national community who--for a variety of reasons: downsizing, outsourcing, restructuring--will wake up one day this year to learn that we no longer have a job. Added to the stress of finding a new job, we'll also have to figure out how to continue to provide health care for our families. If we are fortunate to have health insurance, we will be faced with paying more at a time when we are trying to make due with less.
We are the 4 million people in our national community who will celebrate a 19th birthday this next year. As we blow out the candles on the cake, we may be marking the loss of our health insurance. Our society will ensure that if we call the fire department, someone will respond. It will not offer us the same guarantee for our health.
We are the 5 million children in our national community whose lack of health insurance sets up a barrier to good health. We are children in a nation that works to make sure we each have a basic education. We are chilren in a nation which ignores that we need a similar guarantee for health care.
We are the 30 million workers between the ages of 18 and 64 who earn less than $9 an hour. Those of us who work full-time earn $18,800 a year. Many of us are the store clerks, mechanics, dry cleaners, and restaurant workers you meet. Our nation relies on our work to keep America humming along. We typically have no health insurance. We make too much to get health care from public health programs. We often end up in emergency rooms for care because we have no other place to go.
We are the owners of small businesses, those businesses with less than 100 workers. We employ 38 million people in communities across the country. We support the local little league team and sponsor civic events. Because of the high cost, we often are unable to provide the proctection of health insurance for our employees.
We are the six of every 10 people in the United States who are lucky enough to have jobs that offer health insurance for our families. And yet, each year, we find that we are paying more. Deductibles and co-payments keep going up. More and more things are not covered by our insurance, which means we have to pay for them. As a result, many of us--people who own homes, who had full-time employment and insurance before getting ill--will declare bankruptcy because of our medical bills.
We are the 18,000 people who will die this year because we do not have the security of health care that comes with having insurance. Out of pride, out of shame, out of fear--or because we simply don't have the money to go to the doctor--we will ignore signs that our health may be in jeopardy. If we do get medical attention it will be too late.
We are the uncounted millions for whom preventative health care and a healthy lifestyle are a struggle. We live in the inner city where fresh fruit and vegetables are not available in our markets. We live in rural communitites with no doctors. The color of our skin or our gender disproportionately impacts the diagnosis and treatment of a medical condition.
Response: You are or have been one of us. We know or have known others. We care for you and we pray for you, remembering that we are all brothers and sisters.
Adapted from "Readings from the Uninsured" in "Vision and Voice: Faithful Citizens and Health Care," Session 1, accessed at www.visionandvoice.org.
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