Wendy Golden-Levitt is a mensch who works with children using Jungian principles and … wait for it … cloth. Back in the day I sent two quilts her way. She commissioned one and the second (the crow) was a gift. Many readers of this blog also made cloth contributions.
I recently received a couple of emails from Wendy where she describes the impact my cloths have had on a particular child. I share the story below.
First, I have Wendy’s permission to share this. And J’s mother’s permission.
Second, until I was about twelve, everybody called me DeeDee.
Third, the heart-felt entreaties made by ten-year-old J. both uplift me and break my heart. It’s worth your time to read all her words.
Wendy quoted below. Sorry about the spacing. Some quirk I don’t think I can easily fix.
I also started seeing children again. here in my very tiny apartment. One of the older children I worked with for several years enjoyed working with your cloths. Her family was in Toronto for five years and returned to NYC this year. Long story short… she wanted to come here to “work on a couple of things.”
J., 10 years old, walked into my second bedroom and looked at me and said: “Where the heck are DD’s cloths?” They call you DD. I told her I had not unpacked them yet. But they were in a huge storage bin, sitting in my second bathroom bathtub. She insisted we look for them. And we did. We found Samantha the Crow cloth first. She grabbed it and said, “Good thing you didn’t lose this because I would have been very mad and have to start therapy again.”
She had a long talk with Samantha (what the kids call the crow). She lay on the floor, holding the cloth above her, and talked. Here are some of the things she said.
“Samantha. There is a problem in the place we live. We got a president who is making me scared to be a brown girl. I don’t know what to do. I want to play a lot. But I can’t. I am scared I will be taken away.
You are our crow girl. Can you do something? Can you make it safe for us? I want to learn the things you know. Because you fly. Because Wendy told me you carried fire and other things to help make the world in the very beginning. You know how to build, to count. You have a lot you can teach us kids.You have a whole world under you. (Referring to the different cloth squares you stitched underneath the crow). So I know you can help us. I want to not be afraid. I want to build something new like you. I want to also be safe like you know how to do. I want both. I want to make stuff. I think if you help us kids make stuff again, we could be okay.
Samantha? I want to walk in the nature centre near me and take my shoes off and look for you. I know with my shoes on you will not know me. But with my shoes off and grass and stuff on my feet you will know me. I want to meet you. Wendy says I can. Either at the nature centre or as a surprise. Or in my dreams. Please guide me and the other kids.”
And below is a second email about a second visit.
J. was back yesterday. Here is a poem she wrote during our session….with your crow (Samantha) cloth:
“I am black like the crow. I shimmer like the crow’s feathers in the sun.
I lay on top of DD’s cloth to let strong powerful energy into me. I lay on my back. It is important Samantha (crow) protects my back. My heart goes from front to back side to side.
I am finding ways to be okay even though I feel scared I will not be seen anymore, even though I have dark skin. The president you can tell has never worked with DD’s cloth.
I will learn with the squares underneath Samantha the crow how to build real love, real strong muscles of my heart. I will learn from DD how to speak and say “You will never make me a slave again.”
You could show this to DD if she is alive and wants to see it.”
Wendy: There is something in your cloths that resonates with both the effort of suffering and the effort of healing. The kids feel it. So do I.
Description of making Samantha here and Treasure Island Quilt and crow here.
Learning a new craft means more mess. For needle felting: wool rovings, specialized needles, finger and thumb protections, foam pads to perform stabbing operations on.
But I am having so much fun!
The end of the year brought some formalized goodbyes: to corruption, duplicity, psychopathology, sexism and racism. LIES.
And of course, COVID-19.
And now we must add: and mutations. (Did you hear the one about Ireland? After centuries of oppression, they can finally keep the British out! Ar-ar)
More personally, as I’ve stated elsewhere, I want to spend less time in grievance. And, I want to read more this year. Both feel do-able.
Today: pin wheel cookies and a dog walk at Cutler Park.
Have you ever seen Stevie the Wonder dog on Instagram? He’s adorable. Lives with some nerve disorder that makes walking difficult, but he is famous and beloved and everyone sends him packages. So many videos of him opening packages. Stevie_the_wonderdog
Above, is Finn’s version. Unfortunately what he is dispatching at the outset was a household gift. I thought it was a dog toy. (Oh well! Sorry, MR! He DID enjoy the treat inside!)
(In case you’re wondering about the clumsy links, the updated WP makes selecting text nearly impossible, especially if near a line break or photo. Errr. But on the positive tech-front, K figured out how to download photos from iPhone to Lenovo laptop. It requires a format change on the phone end and takes a LONg time — because along with innovating to a stellar degree, Apple also spends a fair amount of energy crafting intentional ill-ease across platforms — but wait! I hear farting sounds. Is this grievance? The good news is I’ve already deleted 1,000 pictures off my phone).
Speaking of farting, if you haven’t seen this, you’re welcome!
A huge fart during a kids class Zoom and the whole class, and teacher, finding it hilarious is the joy we all needed. https://t.co/mQVkKi5w8C
Two days ago, when I was editing a published post about the only Catholic prayer I still say and a little about travel by air, the phone rang. It was a persistent solicitor — a number I’ve been seeing every day for weeks. I picked up to politely request my removal from their list while simultaneously saving the post —
and the whole thing vanished. Not just the updates — all of it.
I walked away, resolved not to let negative narratives spin up around the glitch, but also without the energy for a re-do. The negatives arose anyway (was silence imposed because the post was braggy instead of vulnerable? was it too facile with the Catholic rituals? not remotely concerning what is truly and deeply on my mind?)
What IS truly and deeply on my mind?
Yesterday, the wordpress app on my phone seized. Geez! Haven’t I said, I’m not shutting up?
So by way of recap, here’s a little from the other day — I hope I never stop feeling a sense of wonder about being up in the air and seeing the coast lit up below. I hope the Virgin hears our prayers. I hope Mary’s mercy can guide me to learn more about the complicated landscape of South Carolina. Help me filter history through a tender and flexible compassion.
Here’s one surprise from my recent trip. The most restorative aspect of our visit to Charleston came from a major reduction in news consumption. Not the sun, the 70 degree temperatures, the incredible food or historic sites (though they were amazing, too). It was LESS NEWS.
For wisdom about the business of balancing duty and lightness, I turn to Rebecca Solnit (“Hope in the Dark”). Even though since November I’ve had a hard time reading political commentary that predates the election, she will be an exception. She wrote:
“Joy doesn’t betray but sustains activism. And when you face a politics that aspires to make you fearful, alienated, and isolated, joy is a fine initial act of insurrection.”
Giving is an act of insurrection, too. Did you hear about the crowd sourcing that planned to raise $20k in a month for purposes of repairing the vandalized Jewish graves in Missouri? They exceeded their goal in THREE HOURS. Or about the million-plus dollars raised to rebuild that burned down mosque in Texas? Twenty-three thousand people contributed.
Closer to home, my city just voted to be a sanctuary city.
Powerful examples of our collective goodness absolutely abound right now. To stay sane, I really need to pay as much attention to them as I do to the ugly and dark work of the GOP.
Photos of Virgin, magnolia tree and house were shot at Magnolia Plantation, SC last week.
You have a whole world under you. (Referring to the different cloth squares you stitched underneath the crow). So I know you can help us. I want to not be afraid. I want to build something new like you. I want to also be safe like you know how to do. I want both. I want to make stuff. I think if you help us kids make stuff again, we could be okay.
But I am having so much fun!
And of course, COVID-19.
More personally, as I’ve stated elsewhere, I want to spend less time in grievance. And, I want to read more this year. Both feel do-able.
Today: pin wheel cookies and a dog walk at Cutler Park.
