Category: Courage

Facade

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

1902474be6161ed7fa088914cd72e4b7We all enjoy the world of make believe. As children we listen intently to stories from the imagination and we never quite lose our thirst for enchanting tales. In the adult world tales of dragons and dead people who reanimate excite us even as we understand that they are not real. We humans enjoy flights of fancy and we have become expert at creating visions so detailed and true to life that we are able to suspend our disbelief and fully immerse ourselves in fictions that distract us from the grind of daily living. We build theme parks where we escape for hours into fantastic worlds with rides that both thrill and frighten us. Somehow we need entertainment that is part unbelievable and part akin to our own lives. It is as though the comedy and tragedy of existence is not enough to stimulate our thinking. We humans are extraordinary in our thirst for creative genius.

Mankind began artistry rather simply. People decorated their bodies with colors from the earth and festooned themselves with feathers, shells, horns and animal skins. Some extended their inventive urges to paintings on the walls of caves and the oral traditions of tales that recorded history or taught important ideas. We thought to develop alphabets and refined ways of scrawling notations onto surfaces that we might carry from one place to another. We improved our tools and even while we eked out survival we paused for moments of entertainment. There is no other earthly creature that does such things. Our history is one of wars and violence and humane progress. We enshrine heroes both true and make believe. We speak of man’s fatal flaws in stories so universal that they ring true even centuries after they were written. We face down our tragedies at the same time that we cloak them in facades.

The truth is often so horrific and difficult to face that we deal with it much better if it is presented in metaphors. We are able to think and react to a movie when we might turn away from what is real. A sympathetic hero or heroine allows us to suspend our prejudices and judgements for a moment so that our minds are free to consider new possibilities. We forget that the view that we see in a play or a film is usually made of cardboard and the technology of computers. We sometimes believe a well crafted story with a cast of brilliant actors more than we do the evidence that exists right before our eyes. Sometimes we have to escape from what is real to find the truths that we need to hear.

Shakespeare said that we are all actors on a stage. We prepare our faces and our lines before we emerge from our homes each day to interact with the audiences who expect certain behaviors from us. We think before we speak. We dress in accordance with fashion and the dictates of our jobs. We strut and compete to win the best roles. We aim to please so that we might earn the accolades and goodies that allow us to survive. Few of us have the courage to fully be our true selves wherever we go. We wait to reveal who we really are to those in whom we trust. We have learned that it is risky to be any other way but we secretly admire those among us who shoot the finger to conventions. It is difficult to keep up a facade.

Social media sites provide us with a forum for truth. They appear to provide us with freedom, power and anonymity. It is easy to type in the words that are struggling to leave our minds and then walk away. There is nobody standing in front of us when we hit the send or post buttons. We do not feel the fears of confrontation and yet our spontaneous actions are not without repercussions. Others feel just as daring and verbal jousts often ensue. As we tear down our facades of politeness the world becomes littered with commentaries and insults that hover forever as evidence of our frustrations. We want to be able to own our thoughts but experience has taught us that to do so is fraught with dangers. After we are burned we replace the masks that we wear for protection. We feign ignorance of our mistakes and sometimes even turn away from the discussions that gave us a false courage. We learn that nobody really wants to know our ideas nor do they value our opinions. We only make others angry when we speak the truth and most of us dislike the battles that follow

We instinctively know that much of what we see and hear is as unreal as the fiction that entertains us. We desire good news and so there are those who manipulate us into believing that they are the bearers of good tidings when all they really want is power over our thoughts and feelings. Only the very confident and strong are willing to stand their ground and take the abuse that comes from nobly shouting the truths that we find uncomfortable to hear. They are the stuff of legend. They often suffer for their honor. We see their like both in fictional heroes and reality. They are King Lear and Martin Luther King, Jr., Kaleesi and Rosa Parks.

We humans are a funny lot. We are truth seekers who live behind our protective facades. We are brave and cautious. We risk speaking honestly and we lie. We walk into danger and we run away. Our very natures and physiology prompt us to take chances and to protect ourselves. There is a constant tug of war between good and bad, bravery and cowardice. Like Batman we are one person in the light of day and another in the dark of night. We hate our facades but understand the need to couch our words and actions in acceptable forms of behavior. All of us are prisoners in some ways and free in others. The facades that we build protect us from misunderstandings and judgements. They give us an illusion of strength and security but we always know that they are not real. It is only when we are with the people who allow us to remove our masks and the fake fronts that we feel the liberation that each of us seek. It is called unconditional love and we crave it.

It would be glorious if we were to one day find that tolerance had become universal. How invigorating it would feel to know that each person might fully embrace his/her uniqueness without fear of being misunderstood or ostracized. We are working on reaching that point but still have a long way to go. Sadly our facades will have stay in place for now.

Our Glorious Cause

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

colin-kaepernick-football-headshot-photoI’m a quiet person who doesn’t generally like to make waves. I prefer having a routine but enjoy an occasional adventure. I shy away from conflict but sometimes throw caution to the wind and take a stand. Like most people my days are mostly devoid of drama and I prefer it that way. In spite of my efforts to walk the middle road and keep the peace there have been times when I have felt compelled to speak my mind. Life has a way of placing us in situations that demand our attention whether we desire to become involved or not.

When I was nineteen years old my mother had the first of many psychotic breakdowns. I had never seen anything like her frightening behavior in all of my life. With no father and younger brothers still incapable of navigating the rough seas of caring for someone with a mental illness I was on my own. I still was not of legal age but I had to quickly learn how to make decisions on behalf of my mother and my family. The biggest mistake that I made on the first occasion of her illness was maintaining total respect for and deference to the doctor who treated my mom. I agreed to whatever he suggested even when my heart and soul told me that he was wrong. I had been raised to be polite and my gentle demeanor resulted in a series of decisions that I would always regret.

I’m a fast learner and when my mother’s next psychiatric episode occurred I was ready to take on the devil himself if need be. I was assertive with her new doctor and everyone else involved in her care. I became an outspoken advocate for her and her cause. My life and my personality changed forever. I finally understood that we may not wish to do so but sometimes we are forced to speak out for what we strongly believe is right and just. For each of us the causes that we embrace are highly personal, derived from life experiences that somehow made an indelible mark on our hearts. While others may believe that they understand our motivations the reality is that nobody else will ever completely know exactly how we feel.

I was judged for the way I handled my mother’s mental illness by people who had not walked in my shoes and who had turned away when I asked them to help me. Some people see me as a saint and others quietly whisper that I did more harm to my mom than good in the choices that I made. It is difficult for people to understand that even when I made mistakes or did things differently than they would have my motives were pure. My mother now rests with the angels in heaven but to this very day I speak of her life changing illness and the way I tried to help her without apology. I want the world to be aware of mental illness. I feel the need to open people’s eyes even when doing so makes them intensely uncomfortable. Honesty and a willingness to speak of the horror that my mother and my family endured is the only way that I may help to one day bring about a cure or at least a better way of dealing with this very real problem.

Mental illness is my cause along with education. These are the topics that I hold dear and I am thankful that I live in a time and place that allows me to voice my thoughts and opinions. My audience is small so my ideas are not nearly as impactful as I would like for them to be. I am one of many nameless faces in the world shouting in the wilderness. I would love to have a status so recognizable that my ideas would become news. Then perhaps my words might actually make a difference but for now I must be content with changing one mind at a time in a very tiny circle.

There are famous people with causes who have the power to move larger audiences. Glenn Close has become a beacon of hope for those of us who know the tragedy of mental illness. George Clooney is an outspoken advocate for human rights. Gary Sinise has devoted time and treasure to the Wounded Warrior Project. We usually applaud such efforts because they fall within the boundaries of our comfort zones. It is only when one of our heroes chooses to make us aware of something that we would rather ignore that we begin to make judgements about them that are not always fair.

Until recently I had no idea who Colin Kaepernick was. I don’t live in San Francisco and I don’t care that much about football. In all likelihood I would have gone my entire life without ever even hearing his name were it not for a moment when he chose to shine a light on something that bothers him as much as mental illness bothers me. His method for drawing attention to his cause was to remain seated during the playing of the national anthem. Some of those who witnessed his protest have gone ballistic in criticizing him both for that action and for the reasons that he has given for them.

The reality is that he has managed to do something remarkable. He has started a conversation about our rights as citizens of this country. Regardless of which side people espouse they are chattering away which is exactly what he hoped to accomplish. The problems that worried him are out in the open. He has shed a bright light on an uncomfortable topic and has done so with the possibility of damaging his reputation and his livelihood. That takes great courage, the kind that few of us, myself included, possess.

Mr. Kaepernick wants us to notice that a significant portion of our populace lives in fear of law enforcement. He wants us to understand that even a young black man raised by white parents is not immune to the forces of racism that still exist in some quarters of our country. He insists that in spite of education and success he and other black men and women endure the sting of hate simply because of the color of their skin. Whether we totally agree with him or not we have to admit that we have never walked in his world. We will never be able to know his reality. We must take him at his word and then begin to consider how we might begin to exchange honest dialogue about the situation that he has described.

Whether or not Colin Kaepernick stands for our national anthem is irrelevant. Our Constitution provides him with the right to rebel just as our forefathers did when they believed that they were living under a yoke of tyranny. Their actions were seemingly outrageous but they were cries for liberty. Theirs was a noble cause that sadly ended without assurances for a considerable portion of the citizenry. Over time we have slowly but surely attempted to correct their omissions. Traditions should never be so sacred that we allow them to stand when they are so obviously flawed. We had to outlaw slavery and give the vote to blacks and women. We had to find ways to include everyone in this great democratic experiment. Even to this day it is incumbent on all of us to correct the mistakes of the past. If so many who live among us are feeling so left out of our national pride then we need to take the time to hear them and to accept that they may know something that we don’t

I believe that we the people need to suspend our moral outrage each time someone alerts us to a festering problem. If King George had taken the time to listen to the protests of the colonists we might still be part of Great Britain. We need to stop the name calling and the madness. It does absolutely nothing to help in dealing with the issues. It is a diversion, a distraction that keeps us from hearing all sides of the discussions that we need to have. Perhaps what we really should do is simply listen to Mr. Kaepernick and celebrate that we are a country where freedom allows each of us to have an opinion. We have the opportunity to be part of the ongoing solution of mankind’s deepest problems. If we truly want to honor our country we will lower our voices and join in an effort to understand our disparate needs. It is our glorious cause.

A Saint For All Mankind

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Mother-Teresa-of-Calcutta-to-be-made-saint-VaticanThis Sunday there will be a new saint in the Catholic Church, St. Teresa of Calcutta, A.K.A. Mother Teresa. Pope Francis didn’t just choose her as he might a staff member. Instead her canonization followed strict guidelines that have long been used to decide just who deserves the honor. First someone nominates a candidate. A group of clerics examine all of the evidence pointing to saintliness. Once they are satisfied that the individual was indeed holy they send the nomination to the Pope who decides whether or not to beatify the person. Once two proven miracles have been attributed to the candidate the Pope announces that we have a new saint.

Almost everyone in the world is familiar with Mother Teresa, an Albanian nun who worked with the poorest most forgotten people in Calcutta. She witnessed intense suffering that at times tested her own faith in both mankind and God. She was far from a perfect person but somehow she found the resolve to rise each day, mask her darkness with a smile, and bring comfort to the sick and dying. For decades she toiled among the most shunned and desperate people imaginable, often wondering how they had been so abandoned by God. She prayed for the strength to believe and to continue her work.

So great were her works of mercy that after her death she was beatified quickly. Then a woman with incurable cancer asserted that she was healed after praying to Mother Teresa. A man from Brazil diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor also prayed to Mother Teresa and the tumor somehow miraculously evaporated. In both cases doctors were unable to explain why the people were cured. Mother Teresa was given credit for the miracles.

I’m excited about having this new saint with or without the so called miracles attributed to her. The life that she chose to live would have driven most of us to despair. It is doubtful that we would have been able to survive in the circumstances that defined her daily life. She was a courageous woman who ignored societal rules and considered the needs of her fellow men before her own. She was driven to provide succor for souls who would otherwise have lived in isolated neglect and misery. She was a tiny but mighty woman who loved even the unloveable. The fact that she was also so humanly imperfect only makes her more inspiring.

Who among us has not experienced moments when we questioned everything sacred? How many times have our lives been so difficult that we raged at God? I know that God has always been a part of my life but there have also been times when I felt betrayed by Him. I wondered how He could possibly test me more than I believed I was capable of enduring. Ultimately I knew that He had been with me all along but I often felt intensely guilty and inadequate for questioning Him. Having a bonafide saint who experienced the same confusion and doubt is glorious. She will be not just the patron saint of the sick and suffering but also of those who stumble and lose their way.

I believe that saints are for everyone, not just Catholics. It is not in their natures to only serve those who share their beliefs. Mother Teresa in life was there for anyone who needed her, so she will also be as a saint. She was a practical person less concerned about theology than being certain that her patients received the care that everyone deserves.

Mother Teresa had a profound respect for all lives, including the unborn. She was outspoken about what she saw as the horrors of abortion even when facing powerful politicians who disagreed with her. She believed that eliminating a fetus was akin to murder and even went so far as to proclaim that the profligate use of abortion as a method of birth control was destroying the human family. In spite of the suffering that she witnessed in the crowded and overpopulated streets where she worked she still thought that killing the unborn was an horrific crime which all of mankind should detest. She was unafraid to voice her concerns and held tightly to them throughout her life. Nonetheless she also warned us that when we are busy judging someone we cannot love them. 

Mother Teresa was hunched over from continuously bending down to care for the sick and dying. In many ways she is both an unlikely saint and one who will no doubt become a powerful spiritual example for those of us whose imperfections daunt us continually. Through her we learn how to overcome our weaknesses and how to stand for our principles no matter how controversial they may be. According to her letters and diary entries there were times when it took every ounce of her energy to carry on her work and in spite of those reluctant times she never gave up. What a powerful message that is to all of us.

Each of us have our causes, things for which we long. Perhaps a loved one is battling a life threatening disease or a friend is dealing with crippling depression and loneliness. St. Teresa of Calcutta will be our go-to gal. She is the one who will understand our pleas and hopefully provide us with the courage to withstand the challenges that dog us.

I suppose that many people today laugh at the oh so unscientific and irrational idea that someone who is no longer alive has any remaining power. Still, even someone who  does not believe in God can be inspired and guided by the example of St. Teresa. It doesn’t require faith or a particular religion to realize that we are at our best as humans when we take time to minister to those in need. We can all be just a bit saintlike. Nurses bring compassion to the sick. Teachers enlighten those hungering for knowledge. A fair and just businessman services the people in the community with integrity. An honest politician who seeks the good of mankind rather than power works for the betterment of all of us. A doctor who cures disease performs miracles everyday. Each of us are called upon in so many ways to demonstrate kindness and to perform corporal works of mercy.

I suppose that in many ways St. Teresa of Calcutta is a someone who while on this earth understood and exemplified the beatitudes so well. She fought continuously for the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek, the hungry and thirsty, the persecuted and above all she was a merciful peacemaker.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.     

As we face an uncertain world that harbors evil and hate I implore, “St. Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.”

But for the Grace of God

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Home is supposed to be a safe place, somewhere to rest, recharge and be free. We select the places where we live according to our means and our preferences. We fill our houses with people and things and memories. Our abodes often hold clues as to who we are and what is most important to us. A home is more than just a structure. It is a backdrop for our experiences, the slate on which we express the inner workings of our very souls. When the places where we live are invaded either by mankind or nature it is grievously wrong. Somehow we all understand the sense of loss when we learn of someone whose home has been destroyed. The feeling is visceral and basic to our natures. When the tragedy is close to our own homes it becomes even more real. “But for the grace of God…” we utter and wonder how we have been so fortunate while others suffer.

Living along or near the Gulf Coast has always been a kind of crap shoot. The land is barely above sea level and storms from the sea are inevitable. Over time the manmade stretches of concrete and buildings make it more and more difficult for the water from the rains that fall to find a way back to the ocean. The land is often swampy, spongy after a deluge. Humans must engineer retention ponds, irrigation systems and levees to overcome nature’s tendencies to flood the land in such areas. As our populations grow we become more daring and build on acreage that has been empty for all time. The developers assure us that we will be fine because there have never been floods in this area. We forget to consider that there have never been people in such places either. We really don’t know for certain what will happen until the rains pound on the land. When we find that we were wrong it is too late to prevent the human misery.

The metropolitan area of Houston is my home. I have lived here for most of my sixty seven years. I know which areas are high enough to withstand heavy rains and which have flooded over the years. I have watched in horror as deluges from the sky have inundated entire neighborhoods. I have been stranded and unable to reach my home when the skies opened up in fury. I both fear and respect the ways of nature because I have witnessed their destructive forces. I have been lucky in that regard but I never feel completely immune from the possibility of one day finding water seeping into the rooms of my house. I have long ago prepared for the worst. I carry insurance for both the winds of hurricanes and floods caused by incessant rain. There is an ax carefully stored inside my attic in case I must create an exit to my roof in order to find refuge from rising water. I have a ladder that will allow me to climb safely from one of my second story windows. I have these things because of images that I have seen again and again. I want to be ready for any eventuality but hope that I never have to use the tools that allow me to sleep more soundly even when the storms are raging over my head.

The state of Louisiana is like a beloved relative to me. The people there are simpatico with those of us from Houston. We share common experiences much like cousins. The same plants that thrive in New Orleans do well in my backyard. The heavy blanket of humidity that marks summers here are found in the cities and towns of our neighboring Gulf Coast state. We are friendly people who embrace life. We face the same dangers from the storms that inevitably come our way.

The recent floods in Baton Rouge have been heartbreaking. This wasn’t supposed to happen there. When Hurricane Katrina threatened New Orleans many of those who fled from its fury sought refuge in the capitol city. It was farther inland and surely a safer way to hunker down until the storm passed. When New Orleans was seemingly destroyed beyond repair eleven years ago there were thousands of people who gave up on the idea of ever living there again. They did not have the emotional strength to risk enduring such an ordeal one more time. They had lost everything and would have to rebuild but they would do so in a more secure place. Some of them chose Baton Rouge or Houston  or San Antonio, anyplace that offered shelter from the horror.

I watched the people from New Orleans pour into my town like refugees with barely the clothes on their backs. They were frightened every time lightning lit up the sky, thunder roared and rain pounded on the roof. Their scars slowly healed and they moved on, leaving entire lifetimes behind. It was gut wrenching to witness and I remember feeling grossly inept in helping them. I also realized that none of us are entirely immune from such tragedy. Be it hurricanes, storms, tornadoes, wildfires, earthquakes or tsunamis we are all potentially in harms way. We never quite know when our circumstances will change. Mother Nature surprises us again and again.

This summer has been especially difficult. Fires still rage in both northern and southern California. Windstorms blow in Arizona. Floods have overtaken cities and towns in a swath that stretches across the country. Among those affected is the city of Baton Rouge, a place that has endured unspeakable manmade and natural tragedies in the space of only weeks. Somehow their sorrow seems all too personal and terrifying.

I listened to an interview with a woman whose home was under water following the rains that unrelentingly fell a couple of weeks ago. She had once lived in New Orleans but when the levees broke eleven years ago the waters swept away every possession that she had ever owned. She found a welcoming kindness when she fled to Baton Rouge and decided to stay. She worked hard to create a new life for herself and her family. She only recently purchased a new home. She was happy and proud of herself. She had been strong and resilient. She was careful. She had asked if her new neighborhood had ever flooded. She wondered if she needed to purchase flood insurance. She was told over and over again that she need not worry about such things. She was safe. She was finally home.

She loved everything about her new house. She didn’t have much to put in it but the place was filled with love. The people around her were friendly and helpful. Her terrible journey seemed to be over. She felt that she might finally rest. When the unthinkable happened and she once again watched the water encroach on her world her resolve wavered. She feels broken but determined. She tries to smile but only tears come from her heart. She wants to believe that she will one day feel safe again but somehow that seems to be an impossible task. When I saw this woman trying so desperately to be optimistic and brave my heart literally burst open in a flood of empathy. I felt her pain.

It is fine to wait for our government to come to the aid of those who are in need. We certainly hope that our President will understand their situation. What matters most is that those of us who have the means find ways to help them through their ordeal. They will need much in the coming days and weeks. There are ways to make a difference. We can give of our time, our talents and our treasure. Every tiny effort is multiplied a thousand fold whenever we work together. New Orleans rose from the dead because love poured into that city from all around the world. So too must we do our part to assist the good people of Baton Rouge. We need to loudly send the message that we will not forget them in their hour of need.

“But for the grace of God…”

The Simones

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

simone-biles-simone-manuel_mq9r77ikg0jq1jtwm8xlwuccrThe Houston Metropolitan area sprawls over more than five hundred square miles. It’s as flat as a pancake making its resemblance to a patchwork quilt rather striking. It is home to the most diverse population in the United States partially because of its proximity to a busy port but mostly due to an abundance of jobs and moderate housing prices. Even with its humid sub tropical climate, air conditioning makes it a great location for living and working so that people from all parts of the world have chosen it as a place to raise their families.

On any given weekend Houston area parents are out in force watching their little ones participate in sporting events. The sound of cheering resonates from soccer fields to baseball diamonds, natatoriums to gymnasiums. As a grandmother and godmother to very active children I have traveled from the Houston suburbs of Sugarland to Magnolia to watch the youngsters compete. I’ve watched them race around a track and get their noses crushed into the dirt of a football field. I’ve sat through days long swim meets and on occasion carted them to and fro from practices. I’ve watched them grow and mature into the sports of their choosing as they specialize and become more and more adept.

I have two grandsons, Benjamin and Eli, who have excelled at every athletic effort they have tried. They have been outstanding swimmers since they were barely five years old. Early on they were members of the Greatwood Gators summer swim team in Sugarland along with their older brothers who taught them all of the strokes and the secrets to diving into the pool. The two boys showed such promise that they decided to join the First Colony USA swim team where they now practice at least five days a week rain or shine, hot or cold. Their calendars are full as they participate in meets and camps across the region and the state along with the friends and role models that they have made along the way. It was in this way that they met another swimmer who was like a big sister to them. Her name is Simone Manuel and she has at times both helped and inspired them as they have slowly risen through the ranks of competitive swimming.

Benjamin and Eli understand as well as anyone how much dedication and hard work is needed to become a champion. They strive continually for the possibility of shaving hundredths of a second off of a race time. They compete not so much with others as with themselves. They are individuals and members of a team that encourages one another and celebrates victories together. Last night one of their own swam in the Olympics in Rio. They and their whole family and all of Sugarland and the Houston area were cheering Simone Manuel as she won the gold with an Olympic record, becoming the first African American woman to medal in swimming. I can only imagine how breathtaking and motivational this moment was for them. Simone had shown them that a hometown girl can become the best in the world. 

It was an exceptionally emotional moment for Simone and the rest of us weren’t that far removed from her feelings. Many of us cried along with her. We knew full well how much courage and effort it had taken for her to reach this pinnacle. We understood how much sacrifice she and her family have made. We also knew that she was a champion for our city as well, representing the true spirit of our town. It was a stunning victory that lit up Facebook and Twitter all across the city of Houston.

Simone Manuel’s feat of daring might have been reason enough to celebrate had she been the lone winner from the Houston area but on the very same day another Simone  was also in contention for a medal. Simone Biles lives in Spring, a northern suburb of Greater Houston, with her mom and dad. She is a tiny five foot eight ball of strength and delight. Since she was a small child she has been tumbling and honing the skills of a gymnast. She demonstrated a natural talent early on but it was her fierce dedication to the sport that made her a standout. Slowly but surely she rose through the national and then the world rankings until she had become known as perhaps the greatest gymnast of all time. Yesterday she proved once and for all that she is indeed the best of the best. She easily clinched the gold to be named the best all around women’s gymnast in the world.

Just as with Simone Manuel, all of the Houston area was cheering unabashedly for Simone Biles. We marveled at her athleticism and the sheer poetry of her skills. She seems to fly higher than any of her competitors. She is a whirling dervish who is able to leap and spin and twist and turn as easily as the rest of us walk from one spot to another. She is a miracle in our midst, a tiny but mighty young woman who seemingly defies gravity and all the rules of physics. Mostly though she makes us all so very proud to be Houstonians and Americans.

Simone Biles and Simone Manuel, the two Simones, represent the very best of who we are as people. We certainly need them at this stage of history. Of late it has been all too easy to become cynical and discouraged about the future of our country. When we witness two such remarkable individuals we recall all that is so very good and important about our nation. We are reminded by them of the work ethic that makes us all great. We realize the love and support from their parents that helped them to reach the pinnacle of their endeavors. Yesterday we witnessed irrefutable evidence that the future of our city and our country is still in very good hands in little corners all across the land. We celebrate with the two Simones not only because they are indeed great but also because they have restored our faith at the very time that we may have needed it most.

Last night’s Olympic games were “must see t.v.” I can’t think of another time when I have felt so elated by a sporting event. I cried with Simone Manuel as she won and as she stood on a pedestal while the national anthem played and our flag was so proudly flew. I cried again with Simone Biles when she realized the dream of a lifetime. I cried for the happiness that spread like wildfire through my hometown. Greater Houston was on the map and bigger than ever last night as two of its most remarkable citizens showed the world what the people here are really like.

I have always maintained that Houston is perhaps the very best place to live in all of the United States. What it lacks in scenery and good weather it makes up for in its people who all in all are a grand bunch of loving and hard working individuals. We live and work together here. We are focused on our children and our neighbors. Ours is a big city with a little town feel. Now we have two heroines to make us even prouder of this crazy wonderful place we call home.