Martin Luther King Is Not a Weapon

Martin Luther King is not a weapon to be wielded against the people he fought to protect.

If you think Martin Luther King, Jr. would not have been sympathetic to the rioters, it means the only MLK speech you have read is “I Have a Dream.” Read any other speech.

MLK was not some peace-loving hippy sitting in a drum circle singing kumbaya. He was the leader of an army who taught his soldiers to take punches instead of start fights. He chose nonviolent civil disobedience in part because he believed white Americans could not turn away from the sight of the police brutally attacking people who didn’t fight back.

Part of the strategy of nonviolent direct action during the Civil Rights Movement was to break the law. MLK went to jail 29 times. One of his most famous pieces of writing, “The Letter from Birmingham Jail,” was written from jail.

He wrote “The Letter from Birmingham Jail” in response to white people who were basically saying, “That is not the right way to protest.”

The whole point of nonviolent civil disobedience is to create so much tension that it is impossible to ignore the injustices causing the unrest. Disruption is the point!

From “The Letter from Birmingham Jail:” “You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations.”

I understand feeling outrage for rioting and looting. Where is your outrage for the rest?

Cole and the Band

When I was in 8th grade, my art teacher mentioned to my mom that I had some talent, so my mom made me choose art as one of my 9th grade electives. I really do have a minor talent for drawing still lifes (although I can't draw from my own imagination to save my life), and at the time I had an architecture hobby that my mom thought I might want to pursue as a career some day. But the thing is...I really hate art classes. Creativity on demand stresses me out so much.

I remember during the first week of my freshman year, the art teacher announced that we were walking down to the square in Franklin to do chalk art. Having to draw a picture on demand in front of a bunch of students I didn't know in a place where anyone could see was too much stress, so I dawdled behind the rest of the class, took a detour to the library or bathroom (I don't remember exactly where), and skipped the rest of class. The teacher never said anything; I don't think she even noticed.

The rest of the semester long class was fine, but constantly embarrassing. My art teacher would praise my supposed drawing talent in front of the whole class all the time. I remember one day where she was rambling about people's expectations and how they can influence your life, and she said something like, "When Erin was younger, people probably told her how good she was at drawing, and she took it to heart and practiced, and that's why she's such a good artist now." It was supposed to be a compliment, but I was mortified. I was NOT a good artist - I had one tiny gift for drawing still lifes and that was it. I felt like a poser that entire semester.

I don't really know what the point of telling that story was, except to say to my kids, "I get it. Parents make you do things you don't want to do. My mom did it to me, and I did it to you, and you will do it to your kids too."

For me, it was art class, and for my boys, it is band. Cole and Eli started playing percussion in the band at Washington Elementary by choice, and they continued in the band at Ligon Middle School by choice, and by the time they both started high school at Enloe, I wasn't about to let them quit just because they had now decided band was for geeks and losers. We had already invested so many years into band!

It started with Cole, who had a rebellious streak in middle school that derived from him choosing not so great friends, so as he was enrolling in high school, I decided he needed to join marching band because band kids are the best. I'm sure there are rotten band kids, but I don't know any. Every band kid I've ever taught has been the best of kids. So that's how my thinking went: put Cole in marching band, set him up for success. Enloe is a huge school, the kind of place where you can drown if you don't find your footing, and I wanted him to have a good start.

One thing I did not know about marching band before Cole's first year is that half of the season involves marching and the other half involves being peppy at football games. You may not have spent much time around Cole, but...he's not very peppy. He also didn't get to march because he was assigned to play keys, and you can't carry a xylophone while you march.



From the beginning, I had said, "One year. Try it for one year, and if you hate it, you don't have to do it again."

Cole seemed miserable the entire marching band season, but surprise, surprise, the next year he joined again with his little brother in tow.



He also joined the Triangle Youth Brass Band and played percussion for Enloe's symphonic band. He plays the marimba, which uses four mallets (two in each hand), and it is an impressive sight to watch him play.

Eli has not taken to band like Cole. He may someday blog about the time his mom ruined his life by making him take marching band. So it goes. That's parenting. You do what you think is best for your kids, and sometimes you get it right, and sometimes your kid hides in the bathroom to avoid drawing with chalk. 

Annual Camping 2019

For Labor Day, we spent another year camping in the mountains of North Carolina. This year, Kellie and her family were able to join us (I'm pretty sure for the first time), and of course, my parents were there. The campground that we stayed at was just a step above a KOA, so not as fabulous as other places we've camped, but it did have a nice river for tubing and good hiking nearby. I really love the photos I took, so prepare yourself...

Summer 2019

In the summer of 2019, I was in the middle of a two year long master's degree program, and I was spending a minimum of four or five hours a day on my classes (though sometimes as much as a full eight hours). That meant no epic summer travels, but we managed to squeeze in a few quick trips and activities.

Of course, we spent a week in Kentucky visiting family, including a zipline tour so my mom could cross that off of her bucket list.





The boys did a mud run with the youth from church, and Rylan went to Scout camp.





And at the end of the summer, we rented a beach house for a few days in the Outer Banks. The last day there, Michael had to work, so while he chilled at a Starbucks all day, the boys and I did a ropes course. We were too slow to make it all the way to the top, so goals for next summer!

Two Big Milestones

Eli graduated from middle school.



And wittle baby Ry graduated from elementary school.

Massanutten 2019

We have reached a point in our lives where living is cyclical; we do the same things every year, wash, rinse, repeat. If you look back at the history of this blog, you start to notice patterns: every year a post about Massanutten, then our epic summer travels (including a trip to Kentucky), then Labor Day in the mountains, than the obligatory Halloween post, followed by Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I am writing this in April of 2020, in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic, which has finally given me the time and space to update this blog after nearly two years. One reason I fell out of the habit of blogging was the feeling of redundancy as I blogged about the same things over and over again, year after year. But this week we were supposed to head to Massanutten for spring break, and instead, we are trapped in our home, afraid to get within six feet of people, afraid to touch anything. Suddenly, when our tradition has been snatched from us, the repetition of our lives feels special. My backyard, where I'm sitting as I write this, is beautiful, but it's not the mountains.

How many years have we been married?

Michael and I were geniuses when we decided to get married right after Christmas. At the time, the reasoning was that we'd be on Christmas break (we were both still in college), and we'd have time off for our honeymoon. We didn't realize the true benefit of a Christmas anniversary: a built in babysitter for every anniversary date since we're already spending the holidays with our parents.

We spent this anniversary in Nashville, not doing anything special, but we did take a good photo!