jo burgess hannon

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So I crashed the party…

September 30, 2019 by Jo 5 Comments

When I saw the look on her face, for a hot minute I was totally regretting showing up to my brother’s high school reunion. It felt a little like being back in high school, walking into a party and getting that mean girl look from across the room. And then someone else puts their arm around you and says, “you showed up!’ with a big smile of welcome. And the universe kind of rights itself, the level finds plum.

I am glad I went. I ended up in a conversation with Greg Wright. He does a fair amount of writing himself and he asked me how my writing was going. I admitted I got stuck after all the negativity surrounding the last presidential election and found myself only wanting to write rebuttals. And, I didn’t want to contribute to the negative or encourage more negativity so I just didn’t write.

Oh, and as it turns out, my thyroid was out of wack and that might have contributed to my darkened mood as well.

I am not sure what Greg said that evening at the Foster Golf Links bar and grill. However, I walked away from that conversation encouraged: to restart, freshen up my blog and get back to the keyboard. Maybe it was something along the lines of ‘just keep being you’.

It’s been a few months since I showed up uninvited, and I know I have said it before. I’m going to start again, make some notes, write a few posts.

And now that the statute of limitations is up, and I can’t remember who actually did the cutting, my class might have had a tree on a homecoming float from the Links. I won’t tell if you don’t.

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Let’s foster courtesy

October 27, 2017 by Jo 3 Comments

Last night I had the chance to attend a football game for our neighborhood high school.  Sitting in that stadium, freezing my butt off, brought back a lot of memories.  I watched with a bit of ah as 20+ girls chanted and cheered in unison while their team took an overtime victory. I mean seriously, have you ever tried to organize a group of people to do anything, let alone stand in straight lines, say the same words and execute physical movements in harmony?

In elementary school I so wanted to wear the uniform and cheer on my team. I vividly remember a conversation with my neighborhood playmate as we entered junior high. “B” and I had spend many hours and long summer days climbing trees, exploring the surrounding woods, picking blackberries, talking about life.  I was trying out for the cheer team, she was starting a before school bible study. She had no interest in being liked or being friends with most: things I expressed as hopes for my future.

As I watched windows being smashed in my country’s capital city last winter, I was frustrated that the local news shows kept showing citizens’ anger and disappointment over an elected official.  I was sad that the bigger cities were getting the press and the smaller communities that might be celebrating were rarely shown. Where was the spirit of celebrating our wins, and being good losers that I had grown up with?  I was seeing a lot of poor sportsmanship.

‘We must speak our minds openly, debate our disagreements honestly, but always pursue solidarity.’  It’s a good thought, right? However, as we saw in January 2017, the pursuit of solidarity can be difficult to put into action when emotions run high. I still believe the words I learned to recite back at Thorndyke Elementary: “…one nation under God, indivisible…”

I know that as the teams walked off the field last night, (well one actually running, jumping, screaming, with helmets high in the air and the other team quiet, shoulders slightly slumped) overtime could have easily swung the other way, switching the victor.

This morning, as they headed back to classrooms, the expectation is for both schools to represent well: be good winners and be good losers.

Today, I hope those that have opposing opinions will accept that while we might not sway a mindset,  we can listen to each other and always remember we have the right to cheer on our own team.

Oh, and, GO BULLDOGS!

Fall 1980, don’t you love those suntan L’Eggs?

 

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Daughter of a truck driver who married a doctor's kid. Life, stories and attempting to age with grace.

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