Assimilate or Go Home: Notes from a Failed Missionary- D.L. Mayfield

Ahh, interlibrary loan and your cover-obscuring stickers...

Assimilate or Go Home: Notes from a Failed Missionary by D.L Mayfield came to my attention via Episode #59: of the What Should I Read Next podcast, titled Prescribing books for what ails you. Ms. Mayfield was the featured guest, and based on some of the things she said, I thought I might enjoy her book.

I was correct. Assimilate or Go Home tells the story of her life among the Somali Bantu refugee population in Portland, a group of people that are, she states, some of the least successfully acclimated refugees the US ever attempted to resettle. Many of them had never lived with electricity or indoor plumbing; some of them had never climbed up stairs before coming to the US. The vast majority were illiterate in their own language, which makes learning written English difficult, if not impossible, especially when the trauma they've suffered is factored in. The Bantus were an ethnic and cultural minority even in their home country; even so, had it been possible, they would have chosen to stay there, rather than come to such an unfamiliar and difficult place..

Having long dreamed of becoming a missionary and bringing God's kingdom (if she could only figure out exactly what that was...) to those who needed it most, Bible college graduate D. L. Mayfield began her volunteer work with the Somali Bantus positive that her mere presence would be all that it would take in order for them to accept Jesus and for their lives to improve. What actually happened was something very different.

Throughout this collection of essays, Ms. Mayfield details the challenges faced by the refugee families- language, poverty, culture, racism, bigotry, among many others- and describes how her presence often made the situation worse. Wanting to share her church's Harvest Day festival with three headscarf-wearing Somali girls, whom she dressed up as Bollywood princesses, only proved how 'other' her own church community saw them; showing off her newborn baby, who was born quickly after what sounded like a fast diagnosis of pre-eclampsia, only drove home her privilege with the fact that had this happened to these women in Somalia, they and their babies would have died- most of them had already lost at least one child. 'The longer I knew my refugee friends, the more ignorant I became,' she admits. Clawing one's way out of privilege and a smaller-than-you-realized worldview is no easy task; Ms. Mayfield does it, but realizes that it comes at the expense of those she's supposed to be serving.

This is a memoir of hard-won humility, of unlearning just about everything you grew up being taught and thinking you know about the world around you. To be honest, I found Ms. Mayfield's honesty and ability to examine her long-held beliefs and ideas extremely refreshing. While I'm not especially religious, I see far too many religious leaders with that white savior complex that Ms. Mayfield admits she originally had, with no contrary evidence altering their worldviews: this is the way things are, and if you do XYZ, then everything will be perfect and fall in line. It's not quite that simple, Ms. Mayfield writes, and she's correct.

This is one of those books where I would read a paragraph; pause; read it again; think about it; then write a line or two down in my reading binder (do you keep a log of notes as you're reading? I find it helpful. I use a binder because Walmart was out of notebooks the day I went in. Out. Entirely. Again. One time they were out of extension cords. The Walmarts here are bizarre). D.L. Mayfield shares a lot of poignant insights that, while they stem from her Christian faith, apply universally, and she does it in a way that begs the reader to follow in her footsteps. Examine your ideals, your biases, your preconceptions about how the world should work and how people should act, and replace them with reality- not how you want it to be, but how it is. That's where God, and growth, and peace,  and understanding, will be.

Even if you're not religious, this is a worthy read, both for the story and for the painful lessons that Ms. Mayfield learned (and that so many of us could stand to learn as well). This should also be required reading for anyone beginning work, volunteer or otherwise, with any marginalized community. It's not a soft, gentle read by any means; it asks hard questions and demands changes, but it's a challenge we should all be up for.

I was pleased to see that Ms. Mayfield is represented by Rachelle Gardner; I've followed her on Twitter for years and I've read and enjoyed other books she represents. Do you read the acknowledgements? I always enjoy scanning them and seeing if I recognize any names.

If you're interested in this topic, books with similar themes include The Newcomers: Finding Refuge, Friendship and Hope in an American Classroom by Helen Thorpe (for more on the refugee experience), and The Childcatchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption by Kathryn Joyce (for another example of the damage the pervasive attitude of white saviorism can wreak).

Visit D.L. Mayfield's website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

Humming Whispers- Angela Johnson

Humming Whispers by Angela Johnson is a book that's been hanging out on my TBR list for probably close to ten years now, if not more. I used to be one of those people that added books and then just never read them, until I realized how stupid that was, and that I wasn't learning anything from those books by not reading them. I'm now starting Year Three of reading my TBR list down, and this was next up.

Sophy is a dancer who attends a performing arts high school in Cleveland. She lives with her aunt, who makes tofu for a living, and her sister, who is older than her by ten or eleven years and who is schizophrenic. Nikki hears voices, acts erratically, and has a nasty habit of wandering off and disappearing for months. Sophy feels a deep responsibility for her sister and spends the majority of her free time watching over her, but now that she's a teenager, she's frightened that the disease that stole her sister at this age is coming for her too. To cope with the stress, Sophy shoplifts from nearby businesses.

That's really about it. There isn't much of a hard-hitting plot here, just a drawn-out description of the grittier side of Cleveland and Sophy's day-to-day life. There's no, "THIS happened, so we did THIS, and then because of that THIS happened and then everything went wrong but we fixed it by doing THIS." Everything just meanders from one day to the next. There's no long-term care plan for Nikki, no look to what the future really holds for her or Sophy; the book just kind floats to a close. At one point, Nikki goes missing for several months and there's no description of the panic the family must have felt, just a blasé, "Eh, she'll turn up soon, she always does," followed by a leap forward in time to when she is found. The book was published in 1995; in YA terms, that's pretty dated and it shows, both in the style and in the way it fails to truly connect the reader to Sophy's fear and Nikki's illness.

The one bright spot was Reuben, Nikki's devoted boyfriend. He's part of the support team, playing his saxophone to make her smile, searching for her when she's missing, by her side in the hospital after she's found. His devotion never wavers, and I enjoyed his scenes.

This wasn't quite a win for me. I don't know that the book has aged all that well in terms of being able to draw in teens today, and the style alone failed to captivate me. If you're looking for YA books on mental health, Goodreads has a decent-sized list of them (I've read...a lot of these). I'm definitely interested in checking out Ms. Johnson's picture books, though. She has quite a few of them on her website, and we're making a stop at the library on Monday for new picture books for my daughter!


Visit Angela Johnson's website here.

Monthly roundup: January 2019

January is almost always a good month for reading for me. It's cold, we're stuck in the house, and my Goodreads yearly reading challenge tally has been set back to zero (nooooooooooooooooooo!). This year is no different- I breezed through thirteen books this month (although two years ago, I managed to tackle twenty or twenty-one. Yay, stress-reading!), but something feels different. Reading feels really exciting these days.

And that excitement stems from the amazing What Should I Read Next podcast. I'm new to podcasts, only having really recently started listening to them. What Should I Read Next is my second podcast; first was Let's Talk About Sects, which is great if you like weirdo cults and extremist groups. I listen sometimes when I'm making dinner, but more often, I turn the podcast on when I get into bed. I used to listen to BBC radio as I was falling asleep; there's something very calming and soothing about the British accent and the hushed vocal tones that made it easy for me to pass right out (and coming from someone who has struggled with insomnia on and off her whole life, this is huge). But after the 2016 elections, the news just got so awful that I could no longer relax enough to fall asleep. I loved the idea of podcasts, but the podcast apps I tried would stop playing after one podcast, and so I just gave up, until I discovered Podbean. Podbean plays the podcasts from newer to older or older to newer, without stopping, which was just what I was looking for.

What Should I Read Next has revamped my reading life entirely. Reading is such a solitary activity that it sometimes feels we're the only ones doing it. But Anne Bogel's podcast has helped me to feel not so alone in my constant reading. Other people are just as obsessed with turning pages and cramming the world into their head via the latest bestseller as I am, and that alone has sparked some serious joy for me. If you've never listened to this podcast, I can't recommend it enough. I often fall asleep long before the end, but I do go back and listen to what I've missed!

So I've had a great reading month. I've spent the last two years trying to read down my skyscraper-high Want To Read list on Goodreads, which has meant that I've plowed through a metric book-ton of nonfiction (I started at 332 books; with a crapload of reading under my belt, cleaning up the list to remove a few things that no longer interested me, and putting a few other items not available to me via the library into my Bookmarks for later, it's down to 97 books!). I'm now totally jazzed about reading more fiction and even trying some books in new-to-me genres. This is going to be a great year for reading!

Here's a list of all the things I read this past month.

1. Homeward Bound: Why Women Are Embracing the New Domesticity- Emily Matchar

2. The Newcomers: Finding Refuge, Friendship, and Hope in an American Classroom- Helen Thorpe

3. Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea- Barbara Demick

4. This Dark World: A Memoir of Salvation Found and Lost- Carolyn S. Briggs

5. The Cult Files: True Stories from the Extreme Edges of Religious Belief- Chris Mikul

6. The Magdalen Girls- V.S. Alexander

7. Movie Star by Lizzie Pepper- Hilary Liftin

8. Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids- Kim John Payne with Lisa M. Ross

9. Switch and Bait- Ricki Schultz

10. A Crazy Kind of Love- Mary Ann Marlowe

11. The Adventures of a South Pole Pig: A Novel of Snow and Courage- Chris Kurtz

12. How Does It Feel to Be Unwanted?: Stories of Resistance and Resilience from Mexicans Living in the United States- Eileen Truax

13. I'll Be There For You: The One about Friends- Kelsey Miller


So how did I do for the Modern Mrs. Darcy 2019 Reading Challenge this month?

A book I've been meaning to read: The Cult Files came from my Goodreads list, so I can cross that one off!

I'm always fascinated by why people leave religious groups, so Carolyn S. Briggs's This Dark World fits that category.

Mary Ann Marlowe was a new-to-me author; I'm glad I stumbled upon her at the library.

And you know, I've put some thought into it, and I'm going to count The Adventures of a South Pole Pig for the genre outside my comfort zone. I still really don't care much for animal stories, but this really was adorable and I'm glad I took the chance. I'm still planning on challenging myself in other genres this year. Probably no more animal stories, though. ;)

Four categories crossed off in a month isn't half bad. We'll see how long it takes me to get to the rest!

I don't think I could even pick a favorite out of these if I tried. Reading was such a joy for me this month, both thanks to Anne Bogel's podcast and the authors who wrote these amazing books. I can only hope the rest of the year goes as swimmingly (begone with you, evil lurking reading slumps!).

How did your reading month go? Do you find January to be a great month of reading, or do you get hit with a nasty case of the winter blahs? What have you read and loved this month?

I'll Be There For You: The One about Friends- Kelsey Miller

Settle back on the comfy couch in your favorite local coffeehouse and grab yourself a latte in an oversized mug, because Kelsey Miller's I'll Be There For You: The One about Friends is an entertaining read that delves into nostalgia without hesitating to examine the more problematic areas of arguably the biggest cultural TV phenomenon of the 90's.

Friends debuted in September of 1994, during my freshman year of high school, and nearly everyone I knew watched it. While I never had a 'Rachel,' Jennifer Aniston's iconic haircut, we did own a copy of The Rembrandts' tape that featured the Friends theme song, and my mother had a Central Perk sweatshirt that I would occasionally borrow (and always feared spilling something on). For folks older than me, Friends was a reminder of those years just after you'd flown the nest and your friend group was everything; for people my age, it was a glimpse into the future, of all that could be possible and the friends who would support us as we made our way in the world.

Ms. Miller recalls the show's origins, from the meeting of David Crane and Marta Kauffman in college, their time working together in theater, their pilots that didn't quite get off the ground, and their initial success with Dream On, which eventually earned them an Emmy. I was charmed to know that the first iteration of the show was originally titled Insomnia Café, followed by Friends Like Us, then Six of One (changed to this to differentiate from the other NBC series in development at the time titled Friends Like Mine, which was later renamed Ellen) before it returned to simply Friends. This is followed by a brief history of each of the cast: where they grew up, how they got into the industry (Matt LeBlanc was originally training in carpentry and working in construction; Lisa Kudrow graduated from Vassar with a BS in biology and had plans for med school; Matthew Perry beat up Justin Trudeau when they were 10. Could that be any more hilarious???), and how they were selected, including other actors and actresses who auditioned and/or were offered the parts.

She follows the show through each season, reminiscing about the more memorable episodes and the many bits and pieces of the show that nestled comfortably into our cultural jargon (Smelly Cat, anyone?), never shying away from calling attention to the more problematic aspects of the series: its blinding whiteness, constant homophobia, slut shaming, fat jokes, transphobia. What makes this book different from so many of the scathing articles that have come out in the recent years detailing Friends' issues, though, is that Ms. Miller is quick to point out that for all those problems (many of which are viewed through that crystal-clear 20/20 lens of hindsight and cultural pivots), at the time, they were signs of growth. Ross's ex-wife Carol married Susan on the show in what was the first televised lesbian wedding, and while it was bland and toned-down and lacked a kiss, it was there. The storyline of Chandler's father, who was referred to only as gay, a drag queen, or the now-passé cross-dresser (and would nowadays most likely be referred to as transgender), might not have been handled perfectly, but she was there, at a time when transgender people were only ever seen as murder victims on Law & Order. These were steps forward- maybe even the steps that started us down the path to a world of more acceptance and understanding, and that's no small thing. As someone who always felt uneasy about these aspects of the show, I appreciate this perspective. It wasn't one I'd considered before.

The final chapter of the book contained a lot of new-to-me information, including the lawsuit brought by Amaani Lyle, a writer's assistant, against Warner Brothers, due to harassment in the Friends writers' room (a #MeToo case that took place before society was ready to listen). By the time Friends was in its final two seasons, I had a small child and had lost interest in a group of people whose lives were so very different from mine (although, in a horrible moment that I'll never forget, the episode where Rachel tries to cook and ends up making a trifle with layers of custard, ladyfingers, jam, roast beef, peas and onions played as a re-run the night of my first hospitalization for hyperemesis gravidarum- you know, the kind of morning sickness that can kill you. URP). Reality TV had begun its dominance of the network schedule, the storylines had played out, and the cast was ready to move on...but Ms. Miller's description of the taping of the final episode? Bittersweet, with a side of teary.

This is no celebrity exposé, nor is it a lurid tell-all with stories of infighting and on-set drama. While certain aspects of the casts' personal life are mentioned- relationships, pregnancies, Matthew Perry's drug addiction- they appear solely when relevant. Ms. Miller maintains clear focus on the show- its growth, how the cast grew with it, and how not only the US but the entire world changed because of it.

I'll Be There For You is both a comfort read and an opportunity to remember where we were at the time Friends appeared, the paths it blazed, and the many things we've learned since those days. It's a trek back to a simpler- though not necessarily better- time. There are no rose-colored glasses in this book, just an even-tempered, well-balanced examination of a beloved television show whose influence is still felt today. Now how about that latte?


Visit Kelsey Miller's website here.

Follow Kelsey Miller on Twitter here.

How Does It Feel to Be Unwanted?: Stories of Resistance and Resilience from Mexicans Living in the United States- Eileen Truax

There were a lot of great choices on the New Nonfiction shelf at the library during my last trip, but the first thing that ended up in my bag was How Does It Feel to Be Unwanted?: Stories of Resistance and Resilience from Mexicans Living in the United States by Eileen Truax. It's a timely, important read that will expand your knowledge of why so many of our neighbors to the south come here to live and work, why they need to, and the difficulties they face everyday regardless of their immigration status.

Each chapter is dedicated to two or three people who live in the United States who were either born in Mexico or born in the US to parents who were born in Mexico. You'll get to know labor organizers, translators and interpreters, business owners, asylum seekers, US college graduates who can't legally work here, a high ranking police officer, and even a practicing lawyer who remains undocumented. There are stories of triumph, to be sure, but the overall sentiment is more of frustration, anger, and occasionally heartbreak, as in the case of Cirila Balthazar Cruz, who had her newborn daughter taken away from her and placed in foster care, solely because she spoke no English. 

Another example:

'In Texas, there have been documented cases of agents stopping ambulances to check the immigration statuses of patients. In 2015, the New York Times reported an account of a Brownsville pediatrician who stated that a child had died en route to Corpus Christi and the parents had not accompanied him because they were undocumented and were afraid to cross at the checkpoint.'

Heartbreaking. And so utterly unnecessary.

Just as Helen Thorpe does in Just Like Us: The True Story of Four Mexican Girls Coming of Age in America, Ms. Truax expounds the complications of mixed-status families, where some members have legal status and others don't. Nine million people in the US share this uniquely frustrating situation, some with no hope of improving their circumstances, living in fear that they or their families will be deported at any point in time and the family member or members with legal status will be left to fend for themselves (as happened to Diane Guerrero, whom you might recognize from such shows as Orange is the New Black and Jane the Virgin. She details her life story in the book In the Country We Love: My Family Divided). These are agonizing situations, and far too often, there's no good solution for these families. Sometimes there's no solution at all.

This is a heavy book. And if it's heavy to just read, imagine what it's like to live it. Imagine what it's like to flee the country of your birth, of your culture, your language, and your history, because your husband has been kidnapped not just once but multiple times, traveling to the only safe place that offers you opportunity, only to have every door slammed in your face and to hear that you're nothing but a rapist and murderer from that place's president, of all people- even though it was the rapists and murderers you were fleeing. Imagine working 72 hours a week on your feet, only to be called lazy and greedy by people who refuse to even try to understand what you've been through. Imagine the fear you would feel if at any moment, you could be sent to live in a place you don't even remember being, a place where you don't even speak the language. Imagine being a child and having to grow up with the fear of one or both of your parents being sent away; imagine what that would do to your ability to learn, to focus in school. Imagine knowing that even if you've lived 17 of your 18 years in one country, you've gotten straight A's in school, you've earned a perfect SAT score and have unlimited potential for success, that country still doesn't want you. This book, along with the two others I've linked to in this post, will further your appreciation for what Mexican immigrants live with.

I don't think I can do justice to a book like this in such a short review; it's such a necessary read in these terrible times. I'll never fully understand the depth of the struggles faced by the people from Mexico who choose to seek a better life here. For all its issues, my life has been a privileged one; my parents never came close to having to contemplate leaving the country in which they were born. But I'll always keep trying and adding to my understanding; these days, compassion and understanding are imperative, and it's only through embracing not only our own humanity but that of our neighbors- ALL our neighbors- will we truly become that shining city on a hill.

Visit Eileen Truax's website here.

Follow Eileen Truax on Twitter here.

The Adventures of a South Pole Pig: A Novel of Snow and Courage- Chris Kurtz

To be completely honest, I'm not a fan of animal stories. Charlotte's Web by E.B. White kind of gutted me as a child, and any book featuring an animal as a main character (or even a beloved sidekick) has me on high alert, waiting for the moment where tragedy strikes and the animal dies. Even in adult literature, I've been known to flip through to the end to make sure the dog/cat/house goat, etc. makes it through to the end. So you'd think I would've been a lot more wary when we came across this copy of The Adventures of a South Pole Pig: A Novel of Snow and Courage by Chris Kurtz in a Little Free Library a few blocks away, but the cover and premise were so charming (and the story so perfect for our cold, snowy weather!) that I couldn't resist. We took it home with us, and I planned on making it a bedtime read-aloud.

Flora looks like your average farm piglet, crammed into a pen with her mother and pile of brothers, but she was born with a sense of adventure. Surely, this small life can't be it, right? An introduction to the barnyard cat enlightens her to the possibility of more. A venture into the wider barnyard, where she makes the acquaintance of the sled dogs being trained on the property, whets her appetite for adrenaline, and Flora begins a similar self-imposed training regimen, disguised as games with her brothers. Her routine pays off when she's chosen, so she thinks, to be a sled pig on an Antarctic expedition...until she's unceremoniously dumped in the hold with the food-stealing rats. Maybe adventure isn't quite all it's cracked up to be.

But Flora's not one for giving up, instead teaming up with the haughty ship's cat to take down those thieving rats, earning her the respect of both the ship's boy and captain. But the unthinkable- a shipwreck- turns everything upside down, and that's when the true adventure, and danger, begin. Will Flora end up food, or can this plucky pig dig deep and save the day?

I was right not to worry. The Adventures of South Pole Pig is a true delight. Flora is a charming character, endlessly optimistic and bent on achieving her goal of being a sled pig, and the cast of supporting characters- Sophia the cat, Oscar the lead dog, Aleric the plucky ship's boy, even Amos the ham-loving cook- provide endless amusement, grit, and drama. The overarching fear of Flora ending up on a plate doesn't show up until about the last third of the book (although I think most readers will suspect early on. Flora doesn't recognize her status as potential dinner fodder until that point, and only when it's pointed out to her), and it's a plot point that's eclipsed by straight-up survival in such a dangerous environment.

If you're like me and have shied away from animal stories in the past, this is a good one to start with. We could all learn a thing or two about optimism and determination from Flora; her boundless energy and determination are what truly make this story the engaging work that it is. We read a chapter, sometimes two, to my 4.5 year old daughter every night at bedtime, and while at times there's more prose than dialogue, it worked decently well as a read-aloud for a wiggly preschooler who sometimes struggles with sitting still and listening, even at bedtime.

I definitely need to read more middle grade novels. The genre has changed so much from when I was younger, and even in the years since I stopped homeschooling my son when he was 9 (he's 16 now; why yes, there is a large age gap between my children!). It's a genre I always manage to overlook but shouldn't, because there are so many gems there. The Adventures of a South Pole Pig is one of them.



Check out Chris Kurtz's website here.

A Crazy Kind of Love- Mary Ann Marlowe

I am a massive sucker for celebrity-falls-for-regular-gal books. MASSIVE. If extremist cults and escaping secretive religious groups is my favorite flavor of nonfiction, this is my favorite kind of fiction. Despite not really following any of Hollywood, this is a genre I've always loved (I'm going to go ahead and blame Just a Summer Romance by Ann M. Martin- yes, she of my beloved Babysitters Club- for this. That book was probably one of my first real YA titles as a tween and is fully responsible for my starry-eyed devotion to celebrity-dude-as-love-interest novels). So when I saw A Crazy Kind of Love by Mary Ann Marlowe on the New Fiction shelf, a quick scan of the back cover and I was hooked.

In order to pay the bills and keep her health insurance, fine arts major Jo Wilder has taken a job stalking celebrities as a member of a paparazzi crew. It's not her style at all; she'd much rather snap pics of normal people, doing normal things, but that's not exactly a major source of cash. Problem is, she's not great at what she's been hired to do. Too much heart. Too much seeing celebrities as people and not as product.

A missed photographic encounter with Maggie Gyllenhall leads her straight into the life of Micah Sinclair, the uber-gorgeous frontman of the rock band known as Theater of the Absurd. Micah's a known flirt and major manwhore...but Jo's definitely feeling the attraction too. Sparks burst into flames, and suddenly Jo's in front of all those paparazzi cameras, not just behind them. With her jerk of a boss demanding seriously unethical stuff, Jo's got to figure out what's real, who she can trust...and who trusts her.

God, this was a fun read. Jo and Micah's blossoming romance was both sweet and steamy, and despite his bad boy rep, Micah was an utter charmer. Building off of my last review, though, my favorite part of the novel was the fact that Jo has Type I diabetes. She tests her blood sugar often, experiences a few scary lows, and is often hunting down appropriate food or digging into her stash of snacks, but with the exception of informing Micah of the ins and outs of her condition, it's just part of the story, something Jo lives with, takes care of, and goes about her life. It's her normal, and although she occasionally shows her displeasure with it, it's not treated as A Major Deal, and that's something I really appreciated reading. My father has Type I diabetes, and everything Ms. Marlowe wrote about here, I grew up seeing and hearing about. Jo is never represented as anything other than just a normal person; her best friend and roommate, Zion (whom I absolutely adored) does a good job of caring for and about her without crossing the line into being hovery. There's also the inclusion of a transgender character, which made my heart smile. Representation absolutely matters, and Ms. Marlowe has done a fantastic job. This was truly a fantastic escapist read on a weekend where my pain levels were ridiculous (seriously, how have we gone to the moon and figured out how to transplant hearts and do brain surgery, but the human back and SI joint are still a nebulous mystery???) and I needed that mental getaway.

Peeking around on Goodreads, I see that my library has her other book, Some Kind of Magic, so that's exciting news. And her next novel, Dating By the Book, sounds amazing and comes out in June. I'm going to need to borrow Hermione Granger's time turner here...


Visit Mary Ann Marlowe's website here.

Follow Mary Ann Marlowe on Twitter here.