Boston Marathon Bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaey should look to Virginia Prisoner and Former D.C. Sniper Lee Boyd Malvo as a Potential Role Model

“We’re not logical; we’re moved by our deepest sentiments. For the most part, we think about and rationalize later. I mean, look at the world we live in today. What we feel most deeply about, whether it’s wittingly or unwittingly, whether we know or don’t know, whether it’s conscious or with an unconscious drive that’s what we’re going to act on.” -Lee Boyd Malvo 

"If you do not confront your pain, if you do not face your problems, they will find you and defeat you..." -Malvo

By now, you know the name Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, allegedly one of the two Boston Marathon bombers and the only one still alive. A few weeks after the event, Tsarnaev appears to be making it health-wise, but still has a major hill to climb at trial. With our mob-like public having long decided his guilt, he will almost surely get convicted, but his fight against a death penalty received a major boost recently with the addition of the reputable attourney, Judy Clarke, to his defense.

My interest in the death penalty probably began as an undergraduate with the reading of Sister Helen Prejean's brilliant book, Dead Man Walking: An Eyewitness Account of the Death Penalty in the United States. It is certainly worth your time to read if interested.

In a world full of as much evil as this one, I certainly can understand the appeal of the death penalty, and can't really fault someone for supporting it, particularly if they are connected to a murdered victim. But a good friend of mine works in building cases for death row inmates to stay alive. As you can imagine, it's grueling but good work. She tells me that so many of these inmates, even the ones who are legitimately "guilty," came from out of such awful and unimaginable situations. I'm not surprised, since wounded people wound, as they say.

And yet, there's more. After a murder near my hometown (of 1,400) a couple years ago, three poor and drugged-up young men (of course) were arrested, one of which played on my little-league baseball team way back when. My sister writes them somewhat regularly. And one goes to trial with the possibility of the death penalty.

And then there is the fact that my older brother, who had never before committed a violent act, committed a very-public murder-suicide a little over a year ago in Jacksonville, Florida. So yes, I am close to the issue of young men who somehow reach such desperation. And I cannot help but regard the death penalty as inhumane and lacking any real justice, not to mention that its opposition comes seamlessly, I believe, out of a consistently pro-life position.

To get back to the topic at hand, it seems like Tsarnaev, unlike his older brother, was and is very much "alive" in the fullest sense of the word. Well-liked, good-looking, a high-school wrestler, a scholarship winner, and a pickup basketball player. No doubt full of fear and shame, he has cooperated with his investigators. With his parents across the world, I can't help but empathize with his desire to please his brother to the point of following him to possible death, tragic as that decision really was for him and others. None of this is, of course, to suggest that he isn't responsible for the deaths and woundings of so many.

Obviously, there's no guarantee that Tsarnaev, at 19 years old, won't receive the death penalty. But I hope he doesn't because he's just got too much life ahead, too much life inside him, even if that life is now justifiably pretty closely-monitored inside a tight space.

If the courts let him live, Tsarnaev would be wise to familiarize himself with the name Lee Boyd Malvo. Malvo, as you may remember, is one of the two D.C. snipers from back in 2002. He was 17 at the time of his arrest. The state of Virginia executed Malvo's mentor, John Muhammad, in 2009.

But Malvo didn't get executed, and Tsarnaev (and the rest of us) would do well to listen and watch him. Josh White of the Washington Post released an interview with Malvo in 2012, to which I listened with much fascination. It is with no intended disrespect to the families of victims during those awful three weeks that I try to take Malvo seriously here. But incredibly and against all the odds, he does seem so so thoughtful, articulate, and vulnerable, even after this much time in prison.

I believe him when he paints the picture of being completely manipulated by Muhammad. As he put it in the interview, "(Muhammad) said 'Jump,' and it was 'How high?'"

But how could anyone have been so gullible?

Malvo, whose own parents all but abandoned him entirely, explains: "He gave me his time! Time is the only thing we possess, and how we use it tells us what we value. He gave me his time, and he was consistent. Even though the consistency was madness, he was consistent. He gave me his time. He was one of the only people who listened…It was that simple because no one else had the time for me."

In a generation of fatherlessness (both physically and emotionally), I do not find his psychology all that incredible or hard to believe. But what really stuck out about the interview was the different ways he's continuing to live a meaningful life: by reading, by writing poetry, and by practicing yoga. "I've had to be my own psychologist, therapist, counselor, and priest. And I've basically spent the last seven years in recovery."

I certainly look forward to watching the rest of Malvo's journey, to the degree that I can. If you have any interest in connecting with him through a letter or by financial support, you can do so through his Facebook page, which is orchestrated by a friend of his.

Boldly, Malvo told White that he didn't think his punishment was necessarily the right one, a statement on which I mostly agree with him. "I was a child, man," he rightly points out. That isn't to say that he shouldn't spend significant time in prison, and he admits as much, but I guess I kind of think he should get a chance to get out at some point, assuming he behaves himself inside those walls.

Regardless of what you and I think about Malvo's punishment, Tsarnaev may very well end up in a similar situation. The two have striking similarities: their youth, their parental absence, their immigration, the role an older person played in their schemes, and most of all, the way neither seems completely cold and hardened, which is what gives me the most hope in both instances. May they find a way to connect. 

Question(s) for the reader: Do you think Tsarnaev deserves the death penalty? Why or why not? Do you remember Malvo? Have you listened to the interview? 

Marcus Mumford's "Peter Moment"

"In this moment, it seems very much like he's the group's leader--and that he's leading them through something a lot like prayer." -Brian Hiatt about Marcus Mumford in Rolling Stone

"Peter replied, 'Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will'...'Truly I tell you,' Jesus answered, 'this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.'" -Matthew 26:34

“I am trying here to prevent anyone from saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us." -C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity 

I arrive on the scene here a bit late, for which I mostly don't apologize. But I finally read the Brian Hiatt Rolling Stone article--that I first read about in Relevant Magazine--in which Marcus Mumford, lead singer of the Mumford and Sons, claims not to be a Christian. He may not have known at the time that that statement would make all the headlines, but it definitely did. 

Now, I was raised in various Protestant churches, not always by choice. Some of what I learned now seems so distorted. During specific seasons in particular, I've questioned some of the more core tenants of Christianity, including even the prospect of a creative and active God interacting with us. As an undergraduate, I claimed a general sort of deism for a while and quit praying. Rather than having some sort of disciplined "prayer life," I'd say prayer is still something I'm learning to do, learning what it might mean for my life. 

In the article about Mumford, almost everything Mumford was quoted as saying predictably possessed uncanny insight. Except for the areas where Hiatt was trying to peg him with questions about the likes of sex, masturbation, and whether or not his parents thought he was going to hell. The questions reminded me of questions Pharisees or the like would ask Jesus in order to somehow trap him. Jesus inevitably answered with some sort of wise, "third way" that refused whatever dichotomy he'd been offered. 

Anyway, here's what Mumford said, according to Hiatt: "I don't really like that word. It comes with so much baggage. So, no, I wouldn't call myself a Christian. I think the word just conjures up all these religious images that I don't really like. I have my personal views about the person of Jesus and who he was. Like, you ask a Muslim and they'll say, 'Jesus was awesome.' They're not Christians, but they still love Jesus." 

Hiatt goes on to admit that Mumford doesn't doubt the existence of God, but I still came away disappointed with Mumford's response. Why? More than anything else, because I don't believe him.

Never mind that Mumford grew up in the charismatic Vineyard movement; he certainly has a right to leave that background behind if he feels compelled. But if he's not a Christian, why so much singing about meeting his Maker? Why so much respect for G.K. Chesterton, an unapologetic Christian? When he could almost surely have a hookup in any city, why marry young and practice chastity? Why talk (and care) about Jesus at all? 

I could have empathized more with Mumford if he had made any plea to an honest crises of faith--if he had said that I just don't know what is true and I don't feel God's presence in my life--but the fact is, he didn't do that. I could have totally respected a statement something like, "I'm searching, but I'm not sure exactly where I stand at the minute," but again that's not what we got from him. 

I understand doubt, and in fact, I know it intimately. It belongs on anyone's journey, and I think anyone who reads the whole Bible sees that reality threaded throughout the stories. There is Job with his finger finally pointed at God after all his suffering, and there is John the Baptist sending the message to Jesus, asking if He is really the One or whether he had mostly just wasted his life pointing others to Him. 

Mumford also could have used the question as a springboard to intelligently question the word itself. The word used to mean "follower of Christ," but by a combination of association and media sensationalism it has sadly sort of become about a person who "hates gays" or "doesn't believe in science" or "is a Republican." Mumford could have expressed some discomfort about that transition and said he didn't want to be associated with it, but he even falls short there, too. What does it mean that Jesus is "awesome"? Is he really saying anything at all there? 

Maybe the comparison to Peter, the disciple of Jesus who denied his mentor while He was on trial, is too strong, but it's hard for me to conclude anything other than someone who is usually so thoughtful caved under pressure and simply gave the choir of Rolling Stone and some of their readers what they wanted to hear. It was an opportunity that slipped away. Rather than offering us "a third way" answer, Mumford just picked a side, and it was the side that seems to deny his rhetoric and largely the way he lives.

To be clear, the point of this post is not to dismiss Mumford or the rest of his career. It's no secret that I, like so many others, appreciate him and love his band. Even as young as he is, he really has something compelling to say, which is all too rare a quality. Hiatt put it this way: "there's something searching and vulnerable in his eyes." I think Mumford will be around for a while, and I look forward to watching his journey. 

In his defense, it is a complicated dilemma. What to say, which parts of his audience to isolate, etc. He has to be careful with his words because he's trying to sell art. I get it. But I don't think he has to shy away from truth or his identity in order to do that. There are plenty of historical examples of those who have walked the line (Johnny Cash pun not originally intended) he has. I'll settle for three contemporary examples he could look to: Bono, Isaac Slade, and Josh Garrels. These three each make compelling, sellable art, while not shying away from who they are religiously and spiritually. And most, though definitely not all, can respect that. 

Question(s) for the reader: How would you have answered the question Marcus Mumford was asked? What are the implications of the question? 

Agrarian Principles for "Working Out"

It is not unusual in today's United States, especially for middle- and upper-class people, to "work out" five times a week or so. These workouts can take many different forms, but often involve some version of getting in one's car, driving out of one's neighborhood, and arriving at a flashy building with lots of machines that the person can manipulate with various arm and leg movements. The corporations that own these buildings allow participation for a small, monthly fee. The person at each machine is almost inevitably positioned with eyes in the direction of a television. Many of the people in such rooms wear earphones connected to some version of an iPod.

I was a multi-sport athlete growing up, so I'm quite familiar with this setting. I've spent countless hours in gyms, even into adulthood. That is to say, I'm as guilty as anyone. And yet, you can probably sense from my tone both skepticism and some disgust. It does not take a genius to notice that we consume oil, directly and indirectly, from start to finish in this process. Relational interaction is minimal and in some instances completely absent. Sure, our bodies sweat, but our mind goes numb, consuming the various advertisements that entice us to buy more things we don't need. It's all quite robotic, really.

Physical activity is, of course, not new. And it is, without controversy, good for our bodies, assuming certain limits are respected. What is new (and somewhat representative of our cultural values), however, is the way we do it. It has become an end in and of itself, rather than the means that it should be.

So how might we find our way toward a more whole (and dare I say, sustainable) culture of physical activity? The following list of principles is surely not exhaustive, but at least it's a start:

1. Exercise by interacting with nature. You know, like taking a walk in the woods or climbing a small mountain. Even better if you can be active while doing something useful for your domestic unit, like gardening, mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, raking leaves, or chopping wood.

2. Try to "work out" by using your own energy rather than that of non-renewable resources. Ride your bike to work. Take the stairs instead of the elevator. Go swimming in a lake. You can never go wrong with push-ups and sit-ups. The options are endless.

3. Involve other people. Invite some old teammates to play in a 3-on-3 tournament for a good cause. Help a friend move. Or play a game of touch football in the yard with your family. It's fun, and besides, physical activity, like many contexts, can be used for relationship building. Almost everything in our lives is better shared.

4. And lastly, find ways to be active without spending money. Use the tools and resources that are available to you; there's really something quite freeing about this way of being. Maybe it isn't always possible, but we may surprise ourselves with creativity if we slow down long enough to be conscious in our decision-making.


Question(s) for the reader: What did I miss? What are some other ways to sustainably stay active? 

Growing Up in Ardoyne and Other Bits: An Interview with Darryl Petticrew

For the past seven months, I've been living, working, and learning about Northern Ireland and its unique history through the lens, mostly, of Belfast. Darryl Petticrew, a coworker and friend, agreed to sit down and help me understand some of his own story. He comes from Ardoyne, a traditionally-Catholic part of North Belfast. Below is a part of our conversation: 


Chris: “What was growing up in Ardoyne like? How often did you cross over into the likes of, say, the Shankill?”

Darryl: “Ardoyne has such a bad name as a rough area, like everywhere you go you’re going to get into a fight or something. But for me, I didn’t know any different. It was just a normal place to grow up. People were friendly. I walked to school but didn’t venture too far away from Havana Gardens. I came from a good family. My mom and grandma were pretty forward-thinking. My uncle married a Protestant. Of course, as a young person I picked up stupid habits like throwing stones at police and such and when I saw some rioting, I jumped in for the craic of it. When I speak to some of my more middle-class friends they think all I did was make paint bombs and burn stuff.

“I love Ardoyne, though. I think a lot of people would say the same. Most people never leave. I still love it when I go back to drink with my Granddad. One of my friends did get in a really bad accident from joyriding, though. It was a wake-up call for him. He ended up doing some traveling, got involved in youth work.

“The turning point for me was going to St. Malachy’s, which is a Catholic boy’s school. I was exposed to some different people there. It had a big impact on me. I could have easily gotten drawn into the whole drugs thing, but I was able to sort of steer clear of that. They would say, ‘Oh, Darryl is the wise one.’

"I used to box, but everyone boxed. Started playing basketball. It took me away from some of my friends, and I formed some different friends. I believe St. Malachy’s is probably the main reason I got involved in community relations, went to university, and moved away from Ardoyne.

“I still see my friends from Ardoyne all the time. A lot of them are doing manual work, spending their money on drinking, had kids when they were 17. Some of them I don’t speak to much anymore.

"We lived on the bottom streets and used to feud with the top streets.  Typical days included playing football, hanging out all day, finding something to burn, and climbing things. There used to be a big warehouse that stored a bunch of products. We came back from a youth trip and it was on fire, people were running in and out, stealing shit. Thinking back, my mate’s mother told me to go over there. It ended up in a riot with the cops. They couldn’t do anything because there were so many of us. I came away with some good bags of sweets. A few people got lifted. I was pissed that I didn’t get a playstation.

“The first time I remember walking around in the Shankill was when I started working for a supermarket. It was based where the old warehouse got burned down. I was one of two Catholics who worked there but they invited me to go out with them after a Christmas party. In the pub, everyone was wearing Lindfield and Rangers tops. I was nervous as hell, but I got drunk and it turned into a normal night out."

Chris: “What, if any, interactions did you have with paramilitaries?”

Darryl: “A lot of people on our street were involved in some capacity. My granny lived across from us, and I lived with her for a while. There was a guy three doors down who was heavily involved and then one day the power got cut, and Loyalist paramilitaries came and shot him in his house.

“There was always someone. We were pretty disciplined because there was someone a street over who would kneecap you if you weren’t. For stealing cars or something. Or if we were too noisy. They totally kept the order. It kind of made kids behave better. You wouldn’t go steal from a neighbor.

"Whereas in my experience, the police just drive about, but that’s it. They don’t do anything. Kids don’t respect the police.

“Now, people kind of say, fuck the IRA, because Sinn Fein is working with the DUP. They’re not respected. My granny used to work at the bottom of the street. One time she called and was freaking out. Someone had been kneecapped behind her shop and they came in and told her not to say anything. You can tell someone who’s been kneecapped because they’ll walk with a limp. They’ll be in wheelchairs for ages. You can’t really recover well from it. If you come down to the Shamrock, there’ll be someone in there that’s shot someone."

Chris: “Can you talk a little bit about your father? What was his role in The Troubles?”

Darryl: “I don’t realy know him at all. He left when I was two and my sister was born. He was really involved in the paramilitaries but was moving away from the IRA to more extreme dissidents. I would see him around and hear that he got arrested for whatever. He was in jail for five years, I think. He was on the run for a while in Dublin, but the police spotted him. I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard he tried to run a police car off the road, and he had a gun on him. He’s a bit of a nutcase.”

Chris: “Do you think you’ll ever have much of a relationship with him again?”

Darryl: “Not right now. I don’t want to mess up what I’ve got going. Maybe down the line. I’ve got a lot of questions for him. He wasn’t a very nice person. He’s tried to get in touch with me in the past few years. I responded once when I was drunk. I’m clearly not ready for it, but probably at some stage. I have a lot of curiosity.”

Chris: “So at what point and what made you want to work toward peace and integration and cross-community relations? When did you begin interacting with Protestants?

Darryl: “First time I met a Protestant I was 12. Two names got picked out of this hat to go to Chicago and I got picked. I thought it was sweet. But there was like 60 other kids and ten adults going, which freaked me out. Being involved in that program kind of opened my eyes. Three years later I got to go back to Chicago. The program talked a lot about difference and all that. I made several good friends in that program. It was also the first time I saw a black guy. I began to make connections that if I was throwing a stone into the Shenkill it could hit my friends.

“When the British Army used to patrol our streets, we used to love it because they would show us their guns and all. Sometimes we’d talk to them like mates but other times we were throwing bricks at them.

“I’ve been hit with stones in the face and some of my friends have been shot with plastic bullets. I remember shouting certain words without knowing what the words mean. I can also remember a distinct moment of lifting something to throw at the police but then putting it down. At that point I started spending a lot more time with my mates at St. Malachy’s.

Chris: “I’ve heard you talk about being a police officer. Do you still have those aspirations?”

Darryl: “When we were in school we had to do work experience. I wanted to do something interesting. I was obsessed with those police-pursuit shows. So I went to work with them. We were asking loads of questions. He was telling us everything that was good about the job. Pay’s good and everything’s different every day. They have their own sports set-up.

“I would love to see policing being done in a different way, community outreach from a different uniform. Make sure that Ardoyne or wherever was a safe place to grow up. Change the perception of what the police are. I remember a police officer telling me a plane was turning around to drop all the shit off in Ardoyne. It pissed me off. Don’t hate, infiltrate, you know? What holds me back, really, is my family. I’m not sure it’d be fair to my family.”

The Sympathy Sports Story and Why it's Not Good For Us

"Do you not know that in a race all runners run but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize." -1st Corinthians 9:24


You're starting to see these things pop up every few weeks on Facebook. A wrestler lets a physically-disabled opponent beat him. A footballer retires and gets replaced by his small son, who the players promptly allow to score a goal. An American football player overcomes the death of his girlfriend and grandmother in order to lead his team to the national championship. A high-school basketball player passes to mentally-challenged opponent who scores to beat the buzzer. A track star refuses to capitalize on his opponent's mistake and instead lets him win. These stories are becoming their own sort of genre and usually receive about a bazillion "likes" and spread very quickly. There is something about them that really appeals to us.

I do think it says something about us, and it's not good news. You may think I'm heartless for saying it, but hear me out.

From a strictly philosophical vantage point, I'm opposed to manipulating sport in these ways. When we pass to the other team or let someone beat us, even if the person benefiting suffers from a significant challenge that we don't have to endure, we have altered the game from something serious and competitive to something more like acting. The result might "feel good," but it is, in fact, a lie.

These stories are not lived and written in isolation, of course. We believe in self-esteem, and we want there to be no limits, that we can be whoever we want to be. Never mind that no matter how hard I could have tried and practiced, I never would have played in the NBA. Our destiny definitely isn't all nature, but the reality is, I was not given the gifts and the tools to accomplish my first dream. Doesn't make me less human, but it was one of my life's griefs.

The vulnerability of others makes us feel uncomfortable, so we respond by offering some sort of handout, more than anything to pat our own selves on the back. Rather than acknowledge the limits that really are there, in this new genre of story we suspend the written and unwritten rules of sport in order to contrive an outcome we wish were true.

It's worth conceding that these stories tend to be well-intended. We want to feel good about life and sport and relationship and so we're so seeking a way to fill that need.

But they actually do a disservice to both us and the object of the story, the person who plays the role of central character. Notice whoever becomes the object of the story never actually engineers the story, which is concerning enough by itself.

Whether it is a child or a mentally- or physically-challenged person that becomes a fake hero, we try to give that person a gift, but really what we are giving that person is pity. This is why I include the T'eo story on this list, because he became an object of our pity (and then later: of our rage, spite, and hate). In the stories I'm talking about, we do not offer compassion, empathy, or true affirmation of who the person is. the difference between pity and empathy is that we pity without actually knowing a person and being moved by them. To do those things requires knowing him or her.

Instead, with a very American/missionary sort of mindset, "we the fixed/healthy/whole/right" people offer up to the "broken/disabled/handicapped" person an offering of pity. From our own pedestal, we can't really even see the person we're looking so down upon. It's cheap and so very dehumanizing.

We are sending those young people the message that way to be loveable in this world isn't to be uniquely you, but to be a star basketball player or football player. Oh, you can't be that? Well hey, we'll pretend for a while, and then you can feel loved. What a tragedy.

There is a better alternative. Henri Nouwen gave us a clue with the term "wounded healer." We can only give truly good gifts, we can only heal, when we come from a place of knowing our own deep brokeness, our own flaws, our own sin. When we know our own, we're much more able to be present in someone else's, deep as it may be if a young man or woman can never be the winning wrestler, or for that matter see or feed himself. But Nouwen, who by the way gave up a pretty prestigious professorship to live out the remainder of his life among disabled communities, said we all want the same thing: to be loved.

To be really loved, and not just pitied, we have to be known. When we know each other, we can share pain, but we can also learn enough about who a person is to affirm what that person really is good and gifted at. That's much different than manipulating a set of conditions that communicate to a a person that he or she is good or successful at something at which he or she really isn't good. And it is precisely these intimate details that get overlooked when we make these objects of our pity into YouTube stars. We'd do much better for ourselves and for these feel-good stars to really see them as people, to rub elbows with them, to share life with them, and yes, to see their pain, too.


Question(s) for the reader: Have you seen the videos/stories I'm talking about? How do you react to them? Do you see the difference between pity and empathy? 

Platform for Change Panel Highlights Complexities in Northern Ireland's "Shared Future"

"There were no winners in the Troubles. We all lost." 
-Trevor Ringland

Politics, like life and relationship, are messy. There's nothing cheap about them, and they have consequences for this life we share together.

A week ago, I attended a fascinating Platform for Change panel discussion about the Union flag and other complicated issues in Northern Ireland. In a way that I hadn't really yet experienced here--I'm an American who has only lived here since August--there was a diversity of age, ethnicity, nationality, religion, and political philosophy present, and it caused quite the stir. Tempers flared, audience members interrupted speakers, tears fell. The end of the evening did not bring about any sort of cookie-cutter solution, which is why it's simply way easier (although I definitely wouldn't say better) to live segregated lives.

The evening's panelists—some current elected officials, some not—included:

Chris Lyttle (Alliance)

Christopher Stalford (Democratic Unionist Party)

Claire Hanna (Social Democratic and Labour Party)

John McCallister (Independent)

Steven Agnew (Green Party)

Dr. John Kyle (Belfast City Councillor)

Trevor Ringland (Conservative Party)

Rebecca Hall (Labour)

Most of them were articulate and somewhat persuasive in their own contradictory ways, although I did question at times whether a few of them were there to win votes rather than discuss the issue at hand. I’m not a very good Feminist, but I couldn't help but notice how underrepresented females were on the panel. Lyttle claimed that he had only come because a female party member couldn't make it at the last minute. Sinn Fein was apparently invited but didn't send anyone.

I have an admittedly limited understanding of the politics here, and my community-relations work here biases me anyway, but I came away impressed with the perspectives of both Kyle and Ringland. Despite their own differences, they seem to see the problem from the tender place of wanting good for both "sides." Ringland observed that Northern Ireland's historical course has moved from conflict to a sort of cold war to a kind of "cold peace" and that the next step is constructive peace, which would necessarily involve the feeling, seeing, and healing of old wounds. It would take a lot more work than living in separate neighborhoods and attending monolithic schools. 

From the Republican-Democrat paradigm, it was interesting for me to witness what a multi-party system of debate looks like. Sure, there's still the liberal-conservative tension here, but in addition to that divide, there is the Unionist/Nationalist sympathies that pervade both sides of liberal and conservative. Or maybe it's the other way around: the liberal and conservative split exists among both Unionists and Nationalists.

As could be expected, the conversation got significantly more interesting (read: tense) when the audience began asking questions. One of the more pointed questions was why if the Nationalist community was really interested in a shared future did a park in Newry get named after a terrorist? As always, the language mattered. From the other "side," we heard accusations of Loyalist protests hurting the Northern-Irish economy. 

If any sort of narrative consensus formed at all—and it was certainly hard to find—it might have been this. The flag issue symbolizes wider problems. As more than one said, the past few months has been a "wake-up call" and Northern Ireland's international reputation has probably taken a step back, at least temporarily. Some political leadership has almost certainly used the "designated days" decision to stir up unrest or at least to sit idly by and let it happen. It's hard to feel good about any of it, but perhaps its importance lies in what it has communicated to those with eyes to see and ears to hear. The conversation seemed to lead quite naturally from identity to equality. The two are not the same, but they both matter, and they are related. 

Northern Ireland needed the Good Friday Agreement back in 1998, particularly for Nationalist communities that sought a more equal standing here. But maybe it was, as Lyttle called it, "an incomplete peace process."Maybe in that pursuit of equality and human rights, it swung too far and left behind certain Loyalist communities, most specifically the more uneducated, low-income sectors who intimately know desperation as a way of life. These segments feel unheard. As one audience member asked, if the issue in question was youth unemployment instead of the flag, how many still would have attended? I do not know the answer, but it's implication is haunting. Perhaps the Agreement or at least the concept really does need revisited and more inclusive initiatives explored.


Question for readers: What are the potential losses and gains for Northern Ireland if the Good Friday Agreement is revisited? 

An American's Guide to (Northern) Irish English

I've been in Belfast for about six months now, and I've experienced a lot of newness along the way. Some of that newness has been fun, other parts not so much. There's been some typical abroad loneliness coupled with the joys of traveling and experiencing a new place. One continuous small pleasure has been to notice the differences in language. Yes, of course, locals speak English here. But as one would expect, they rely on different slang, pronounce words differently, use words that Americans would know but rarely use, etc. I suppose this is a bit of an informal linguistics project, which is funny because I tried to take a linguistics class in grad school, and I lasted one day before dropping it. But below are some of the common words and phrases in Northern Ireland and their appropriate American "translations." I'm sure my list is not exhaustive. They are listed in no particular order:

legend - A generic compliment as in, "What a legend!"

slagging - insulting in a light-hearted way

rubber - This is one of those sexually-connotated confusions for an American. Here, it just means an eraser.

sorted - figured out

scheme - program

for ages - a long time

space button - space bar

biscuits - cookies

keep her lit - A generic encouragement, as in "Keep going!"

sultanas - raisins

postman - mailman

tidied - clean

called - This word is used in place of "named" to describe someone's name, i.e. "He is called Gary."

craic - Another confusion, as this is pronounced the same way as "crack." Very loosely, here it means "fun." But the phrase "What's the craic?" is also a generic greeting, much like "How are you?"

training - As a part of the sports world over here, I hear this one a lot. It means "practice." As in, "Are you coming to training tonight?"

cheeky - mean, antagonistic 

class - great, awesome

grand - good 

burds - ladies

aye - yeah/yes

kits - uniforms

pandering - networking, sucking up, trying to impress

loads - lots

keen - in favor of

sweets - candy

bollocks - Literally, this means testicles, but mainly it is used as a profanity. So after I miss a free throw, I might yell, "Bollocks!" 

shop - This is another funny one because of course we say this one a lot in the States, too. But here it can be used more generically for little stores, restaurants, etc. "Hey, let's go down to the shop to get a Coke."

pint - This word is more about the substance than the measurement. If someone asks you to go for a pint, they want to know if you'll get a beer with them.

rubbish - trash, used either literally or figuratively 

posh - ritzy

suit - Someone might ask, "Does this suit?" It means fit or work.

queue - Another common word here. Means "line."

wanker - A swear word, something you would call someone, that means literally "a jerk-off."

dead on - This phrase means right or good or set. So "I'm dead on" might mean I'm feeling fine or even better than fine. 

mate - friend or buddy, very generically

bins - trash cans

toilets - So in the U.S., toilets are something you find in the bathroom or restroom. A very essential part, of course. But bathroom and restroom are not common terms over, so instead you ask someone where the "toilets" are. 

petrol - gas 

have a Chinese/an Indian - This refers, believe it or not, to a Chinese or Indian meal. Not to be mistaken with a person of those nationalities... 

sporty - athletic 

at the minute - right now

spuds - potatoes

windscreen - windshield

diary - planner/calendar

for fuck's sake! - A favorite here, this phrase is used as a generic profanity. 

jumper - sweater 

mental - crazy

lads - guys

ginger - red-haired

postcode - zipcode

gift voucher (gift card)

have a think about it - think about it, brainstorm

so it/she/he is - This phrase is used to reinforce something someone says about something or another person. 

takin’ a piss - joking, messing with somebody

cinema - movie theater 

grammar school - a selective secondary school

primary school - elementary school

secondary school - middle/high school

college - high school

maths - math

brilliant - Another word used very generically. You can assume it means some version of great.

lie in - sleep in

passing wind - farting

brush the floor - sweep 

cheers - thank you

boot - trunk of a car

on holiday - on vacation

happy Christmas - Merry Christmas

knackered - tired, exhausted

bap - type of bread

elastic bands - rubber bands

yous guys - you guys

mess about - mess around

ball-greedy - a player who hogs the ball in sport

footpath - sidewalk

lift - elevator

trolleys - shopping carts

work away - Someone might tell you this about some food that's left over. "Go ahead and work away at the pizza."

wee - The meaning of this word is the same in the States: little. But it's used so much more over here; it's literally one of their favorite words, the best I can tell. I hear this word a bizillion times a day.


Questions for the reader: What did I miss? Do you have any favorites? 

Valentine's Day 2013: "Do You Love Me?"

As you probably know, it's Valentine's Day, which is a holiday I'm told comes from some Christian martyr in ancient Rome. I'd be lying if I pretended to know the story well. As for today's meaning, we could surely exaggerate it and become depressed by our aloneness or over-pleased by our relational glee or we could even criticize the day as just another commercial stunt, but what comes to my mind is this passage from the Gospel of John. The context then wasn't romantic or sexual in implication, but I do think it was very central to who we are as humans, and because of that, it has something to say to us even on Valentine's Day.

In verses 15-17, we find the following conversation between Jesus and Peter, one of his "disciples":

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep." 

Most of the analysis I've heard about this passage centers around Jesus's interesting and surely metaphorical response to Peter: "Feed my sheep." But my interest today is in the very question itself: "Do you love me?" I believe, along with with Dan Allender, that this is one of our central life questions. That is to say, we all possess a very deeply-rooted desire to be loved, even if we're unaware that the question motivates so much of our subconsciousness.

Some of us act it out in very desperate, sad ways, others of us do it in the detached denial of someone who has been burned by love once (or many times) and is determined to never go there again. Sometimes the question and perceived answer drives us to depression, other times to sheer ecstasy. Sometimes the answer seems very plain and routine, but that we recognize the monotony in the first place indicates that the question is still there.

I believe we see evidence of the question also in our vice. When we do not feel loved or when we are too scared to risk love, we turn to all sorts of varieties of cheap substitutes, some more harmful than others. The degrees of our addictions vary, but the thread is the same: Will you love me? Because if you won't, certainly Facebook will or my favorite television show or my achievement at work or the Notre Dame sports team that's in season or at least this food I'm about to consume. Surely "it" will fulfill my needs or at least cover up the absence of something--love--that's more fulfilling. We all do it, don't we?

This question--of our life, I suspect--puts us in a vulnerable place. We tremble at the possibilities of a pending answer. We wonder if someone could love even the unattractive parts of ourselves. May you, however, hear a resounding "yes" from the intimate people in your life today. Happy Valentine's Day!


Question(s) to the reader: Do you have big Valentine's Day plans? In what ways do you see in your own behaviors and patterns an implicit asking of "Do you love me?" 

Getting Ready for Valentine's Day: First-Date Principles for Men

If we take this New York Times article seriously, traditional dating is essentially dead, replaced by an array of contexts that include online dating, hookups that begin with flirting in bars, and "hanging out" as originated by such romantic tactics as text messages. But I'm not so sure women don't still prefer to be approached in a vulnerable way, asked out in advance of the actual date, picked up, meal paid for, and the whole nine yards.

To be sure, if this were a post about sustaining relationships, I'd be the last person in the world you'd want advice from. But I would say through lots of failure, I've actually gotten quite decent at the first date. Here is some of what I've learned.

1. Whether you know the girl as an old friend or she is someone whose eyes you just met across the room, ask her out to her face. Skip the text, Facebook, or Twitter message. Don't get me wrong, it is way more risky this way. She might say no, and it will hurt more in person. But it will also mean more and be a better story later if she you get the date. But don't set the details yet; just get the digits. Once that piece is in place, you can calm down and give yourself some time to brainstorm a plan for the date.

2. Get her number during the first encounter, give it a day or two (don't look desperate!), then call. That will be scary, too. It's dating; get used to the discomfort. If she doesn't answer, leave a message with your name and number. It's certainly her prerogative not to call you back. If that happens give her another couple days, then call again. If she does pick up, say hi, explain who you are if you don't know her very well, ask her a few questions, make some small talk. See how her day went. But don't get too chatty because you don't know what you're interrupting. Ask her if she'd like to join you for dinner at a decent place you've selected ahead of time. If she's game, see if she'd like to be picked up or to meet you there. Either walking or driving is okay, but make sure the expectations are mutually understood. Make sure she feels comfortable.

3. Okay, so you've made it this far, now's the time to execute. You've got to have a plan! What I mean by a plan is you've got to have two locations set: the first place and the second place. The first place should involve food, or if you know your "audience" maybe drink. But not more than two or three if you do drink. Don't be too adventurous in picking the place because you don't know her well, yet. A nice place, sure, but one with options. Not too specialized or you run the risk of isolating her if she doesn't like whatever it is. If you initiated the date, pay the tab, unless of course she is adamant about splitting. If things are going well, invite her to your second destination. Maybe it's a walk in the park or some type of festival or some other cool place you know about or that she probably doesn't. Active is okay, but not too active. And nothing that would humiliate her if she's not good at it, i.e. salsa dancing or ice skating. Don't invite her back to your place; that invokes too many uncertain connotations. Maybe it's something as simple as going from a restaurant to a bar to shoot some pool. Stay away from things that you might love but she might hate. You don't know if she's a baseball fan yet, and some people think it's the boringest game of all time. No movies, either! You need to talk on date #1. If you're really worried about the conversation ahead of time, script out some questions. No don't read them to her, but the act of writing them down will help you recall them when you need to. And listen to her answers because they are going to give you clues for what date #2 will be if you ever get there. Open doors and whatnot for her, but read how she receives gestures like that. If she's annoyed, knock it off; she certainly has the right to open her own door. Get a sense of what her time frame is, but if the conversation's going well, don't rush it.

4. If she'll let you, walk or drive her back home. Walk her to the door, but here's where this can go really wrong. Unless the vibe was incredible or you've known her forever and both parties know it's coming, you probably don't want to go in for the kiss. You don't want to lose her before you even have her because you were too aggressive. Perhaps a hug is appropriate, but again, read her body language. If she's keeping her distance, it's probably not accidental.

5. If you are interested in a second date, you need to make that clear, and it's fair to get a sense of her interest as well. I would suggest a simple question: "Can I call you?" If yes, you're probably in the clear. If no, say goodnight, mourn your rejection, and move on. It's no picnic!


Question(s) for the reader: What did I miss? Or where do you disagree? 

Connecting the Fragments of "Efficiency"

For whatever reason, I've had on my mind our professional glorifying of "efficiency" alongside our cultural dependence on instant gratification (GPS's, social media, the internet, etc.). I have to think the two are connected, as we are taught to solve (eliminate?) problems quickly, and it seems logical that we would take that home with us if we're so engrossed with it at work. I also think the tendency helps us rationalize some of our our worst habits. And I really do mean "us," because some of these habits are every bit my own.

There is some open space on your calendar. Please please find a way to fill it. And hurry hurry hurry!

Don't walk or bike to work; that's so old-fashioned. You need a car in today's world.

You see an ad that looks enticing? Get out the credit card, immediately. Everyone's in debt, after all!

A friend or family member is feeling down? Try to talk him or her out of it; assure him or her, cheaply, that everything is fine.

Hungry? Go buy some food at your local McDonald's. It'll take less time than getting your own hands dirty preparing a real meal.

You're not feeling your marriage lately? Get a divorce. It's really not worth the effort to stay.

It's you that's feeling lonely? Watch some porn. Or find a willing partner in the bar (but use protection!). If you don't use protection, or if it fails, have an abortion. No one has a right to tell you what you can do with your body! The quicker the better because then you won't have to be seen in the midst of your choice. And let's make this process as accessible and cheap as possible while we're at it.

Have something to say and no one's listening? Write a blog post and publish it without taking any time to edit.

We see this sort of thing from our government, too, of course. We feel somehow threatened from the outside world? Find someone to attack (or at least sanction), however loosely connected they may be to the event that made us feel vulnerable. Oh, we've reached the debt ceiling? Easy and simple. Just increase it.

And sadly, in the church, too. You're in pain? Have whatever it is prayed for; maybe God will take it away. Because surely your pain couldn't be instructive and meant to be endured? If you don't get healed it's probably your fault for not having enough faith.

I could keep going all day with the examples, but perhaps the biggest lie in all of this is that these are isolated incidents. These aren't connected; they're independent of each other. In fact, we've done a brilliant job, really, in so many ways (philosophically, culturally, professionally, etc.) of convincing ourselves that we live fragmented, purposeless lives (Lost in the Cosmos as Walker Percy terms it), which allows us to make so many "in-the-moment" choices that we'll later regret, if we even allow ourselves to regret it.

And so I wonder how much our lives might transform if we would view this little daily acts as if they really did mean something, that maybe they were even part of a great epic, but that in order to know it and feel it maybe we need to slow down, quit trying to be perfect, and yes, feel the pain that really is there.

(Cue Aimee Mann's "Wise Up.")


Question(s) for the reader: Which of the above examples resonated? Is it possible that our worst habits are simply a way to avoid pain? If we weren't so pressured to perform at "efficient" paces, might we find more meaning and life?