PHinisheD!

Thanks to all of you listed below: I'm finally PHinisheD!

Dissertation:
ENCOURAGING WOMEN'S CREATIVE CONFIDENCE: A CASE STUDY OF WOMEN'S INSIGHTS INTO THEIR OWN CREATIVE

Dedication

            This is dedicated to the Triple Goddess in every woman, but especially to my own Triple Goddess reality: My daughter, Allie, as Maiden, and my mother, Mildred, as Crone, for their support during this learning experience. Their love has allowed me to realize my emerging transition from Mother into Grace, and continues to encourage me to share my insights with other women in their personal growth.

Acknowledgements

            Many wonderful women and a few great men have been instrumental in empowering me to complete this study. My committee chair, Elizabeth Bruch, has become both my mentor and friend: Thanks, Liz! My other committee members, Jo Kijas and Richard Schrek, have been invaluable through their professional expertise and personal contributions. My thanks to them, and to Donna Connolly, who in sharing her knowledge and candor, made my entire Capella experience richer. I appreciate my creative experts: Marylyn Coffee, Heather Pleasants, and Karen Thompson. Thanks to Sarah Hale and Ricky Power for their financial willingness. Thanks also to Don Howard for his insight on creativity’s theories and its processes. And to all of the Graces who participated in this study, who shared their thoughts and feelings about the past and their hopes and dreams for the future, I say thank you to: Ann, Bama Girl, Ebonee, Ernestine, JoAnne, Kate, Louise, Mary, Mel, Molly, Pearl, Rosie, and Sunshine.

                                                          

Blackberry Dreams

As a bright, open-minded, open-hearted woman of the Deep South, I've long accepted that mine may always prove to be blackberry dreams: Those wonderful plans, rising from the pits of personal chaos, that create multitudes of dainty, faintly fragrant blooms tempered by that final bitter-cold cold-snap that turns on a dime into the unrelenting months of blistering heat, which may, in fact, provide a bumper crop of the biggest, plumpest fruit, but more often as not, no matter how black the berry or sweet the juice, leave those damn seeds between my teeth for days that make me wonder more than once, "Was it really worth it?"

"Will it really be worth it?" I wonder as I interview one more woman concerning her thoughts on creativity, her own creativity, and the level of creative confidence she has, or wants to have... or merely wishes she has, as some of the women seem to want more creativity and the confidence that comes with that creativity, but that somehow just don't understand that they may have to make a move toward their own creation of self and who they want to become.  

Too many times in the course of the dissertation process, I have understood all too clearly that this is simply a trial of perseverance, albeit that at one time I thought that society, and the individual people that make up society, had put academics and scholars in their ivory towers out of respect, and from maybe just a tad bit of intimidation, but it didn't take me too long into the process to understand I was wrong: It's the scholars and the academics that have placed themselves in those towers, and too many, once there, try so very hard to dissuade all those that want to join them on their self-erected pedestals.

And then I, realizing the truth, must look at why I want to join them. Whereas, at one time, I thought it would be proving to myself, and to others, that I was smart enough to get my PhD, I think that now it is more a point of not letting people down: Not people, you understand, who have supported me and encouraged me in my endeavor, because quite frankly there's very, very few of them, but people - these women I was talking about - that need to see that someone like me, and someone like them, can do something that simply requires making up ones mind to do it.

So, I too, need to jump down quick from whatever tower in which I thought I might reside (although I most definitely would have built mine of both ebony and ivory, being that bright, open-minded, open-hearted woman from the Deep South that I am) and realize that instead of finishing my PhD for my sake, that the actual doing of my research and the completing of this degree may very well be worth it if it encourages and inspires any of these women - women just like me - who don't know that they are capable of becoming more of who they want  to be, but who may learn that if we allow a woman to grow in the confidence of her own creativity she is encouraged to become the one she is meant to be… and, even better, that if we nurture that woman to explore and expand her creativity, she becomes a masterpiece.

Grace Be Gone: Dorothy Ford

I was greatly humbled at Dorothy’s funeral.

Not because of the dignitaries that spoke, although I know that would have pleased Dorothy. Not because of the number in attendance, although the church sanctuary was full to capacity. Not because of the eloquence of the many preachers presiding, although their words rang true. Not even because of the rows of pews filled with her family members, each grieving in the sadness of their loss.

I was humbled because each of the people there were in attendance because of their relationships with Dorothy: relationships grown out of mutual respect and love. There was never anything one-sided about Dorothy: She would do anything for you, unless, of course, Church, Family, Boy Scout Troop 400, or the Huntsville Housing Authority had already scheduled her during the time you needed her. She chose her commitments well, and honored those commitments even better.

I recently described Dorothy as mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and full-time volunteer. Although it seemed her time wasn’t her own, she always found the time to stop, sit, and talk for a while. And she listened. The stopping and talking and the sitting and listening was the secret to her successful relationships. She didn’t just work with those dignitaries that spoke that Saturday, she counseled with them. There were more than several of her graduating high school class in attendance at her funeral: Those were friendships that had been nurtured for years. Many of my former co-workers were in attendance; some of their relationships with Dorothy I knew, some I didn’t. There were those in attendance like me, that may have started out in the role of encourager, who later became the encouraged. The clergy that were at her funeral good-naturedly kidded about wooing her from one pastor to another, but it was clear each of them would have been proud to have Dorothy in their flock. And although I had always known that Dorothy was matriarch to a large family, I never realized just how large until the day of her Homegoing. It humbled me greatly to realize that each of these people, and many more, had enjoyed a relationship with Dorothy, time spent with her in stopping and talking and sitting and listening. And we were all there to witness Jesus calling her softly to come Home to Him, ready to continue their long talks and let their relationship grow even stronger.

Grace be gone, Dorothy; but Grace is not forgotten.

Real Words

Maya Angelou states that, “There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.”  

That’s easy for someone to say when she has story after story after story to tell, as Dr. Angelou certainly does.  

But for me, my very soul reacts when I read those words with whispers and shouts, “It’s even worse having no story to tell at all!” 

I have always loved to write… 

And I have a hunger to say something to the world that will touch people in a way that other people’s stories have touched me. 

The very real fictional characters of To Kill a Mockingbird have helped form much of my social beliefs. 

The sentiments that ALL are responsible for peace and everyone should be anti-war expressed in Cold Mountain helped me explain my own feelings in the last few years about our present political situations. 

Exodus introduced me to passion, although as I grew older and realized that there are always at least two sides to every story, my views of the content have metamorphed. 

I misunderstood my teachings from Christy, believing I was to be a teacher: Instead, I think I was to take away from it the sense of adventure one can experience in doing her life’s calling. 

Maya Angelou’s series of autobiographical writings and her viewpoints on life’s lessons have inspired me as I have grown older. I count her very much as the mentor of my soul… and I know her only through the words she has written and spoken to the masses. 

Oh, to say and write words that can touch another so deeply! 

And, oh, to have lived a life full of stories that can teach and inspire others! 

To write! 

To share! 

To live life to its fullest!

Starts and Finishes

Time comes when decisions have to be made to move forward with one’s life, forging towards the new and unknown and letting go of the hurtful and burdensome…

That time has come for me, and hopefully, this will be the beginning of my time.

Too much of life is out of my control right now, and that is an unsettling feeling; but in that feeling brings an opportune time for change. Several big challenges have the prospects of being finished in the coming days, which is a presage of new beginnings. I choose to embrace this presage, not as a foretelling of gloom, but simply as significance in regard to my future. In fact, embracing the experience in the way the word looks, I prefer to think of this time as my preparation in becoming one who is regarded as knowledgeable, wise, and experienced: a sage, or better yet, a Crone.

So, this is a time, my time, for new, and fresh, starts. This blog is one way I am trying something new, reaching out to others to hear their thoughts on issues and feelings and events that are important to them, and that are important to me. Who knows where it will lead? But I have always been told that the journey is much more important than any destination; so I’m ready to start traveling, wherever that may lead.

Anyone, and everyone, is welcome along for the journey, and I invite each one of you, individually, to walk beside me whenever you can. I welcome your company and look forward to our conversations. As creator of this blog, I will manage it as Woman of Amber; as participant in discussions, I will contribute under my own name.