Day 7-9: Racism, Corn & Psoriasis

Life has been super hectic for the past couple of 39 years, so please forgive me when I get behind on blogs. Please know that I am actively focused on kindness and when I am not… I find that I am either the recipient of kindness, or regularly surprised with opportunities despite my lack of intent. God is so gracious with how he sometimes drags me out of my selfishness by the scruff of my (weirdly long) neck.

For Day 7 - I signed up for a Meal Train, to bring dinner to a sweet family. I made corn chowder, topped with crispy pancetta and chives with garlic tuscan bread on the side. The soup tastes like corn on the cob so kids usually like it, but it looks pretty so mom felt treated… the chocolate I sent just for her should also help with that. 

In case there is even one moment where you might be thinking, “But you have five kids and a job, how DO you do it all!?” The answer is, “POORLY AND LIKE A TOTAL SPAZ.” I enter into evidence, Exhibit A)

And a total metaphor of my personal life, Exhibit B)

Don’t worry, this batch of soup tainted by my pepper shaker was given to my family. 🤦🏻‍♀️ For Day 8 - A local group I am part of called E.R.A.S.E. (Eliminating Racism and Seeking Equity) had a meeting last night to go over new appointments to our task forces. The original location fell through, so they needed a meeting space. I was able to get permission to host the group at the church where I work. I recently transition to a new role at Northride Church, I am now the Community Engagement Director for our Rochester Campus, and fittingly was last night appointed to the Community Engagement Task Force for E.R.A.S.E. I am in my glory, and I didn’t even think about securing the meeting space as an act of kindness until I received this thank you card from the group:

The card was to me and my Northridge Family for openting the space. The real MVP of this card should be Graham Spruill, who helped me get the building opened and ready, and who taught me how to use the lights, mics and how to look like a DJ when I adjusted the volume on the jams.

The icebreaker at the meeting last night was to answer one of two questions - What was always your dream job? Or What is a fun fact about you?

I didn’t answer then, but what I wanted to say was… a fun fact about me is that I HAVE my dream job. All I ever wanted to be was a public speaker and I get to do that as a job. That blows my mind. But in a Covid world, my speaking event calendar has been wiped clean. Antiracist education, diversity trainings, adoption dialogues, Christian retreats, college events, conferences, corporate events… all done for now, or have moved online.  I really miss everything about those in-person events. The travel, the people, the challenge that each event/new topic brings. In such starkly different environments, I get to meet people where they are at and share truths that stretch and challenge them. Being a writer, podcaster and now Community Engagement Director… those are all an overflow of passions. The intersection of my faith and my passion for racial/social/biblical justice is a sweet spot that I am so thankful for while I am unable to speak at events due to these weird Covid times. Last night was a cool moment for me personally, to receive this card and to be reminded that kindness is embedded into my work in a way that is so natural that I didn’t really recognize it. 

Day 9 is kinda silly, but I sent a message to a musician we discovered from a song that was on a commercial for Taltz, which is a psoriasis medication. I can’t speak for Taltz, although the list of side effects seems outrageous… but the song is dope. My little London, who is ten years old, has become a huge fan of this band. I keep thinking about the comedians, artists, speakers and performers that cannot tour right now due to Covid. We often assume that these are famous people who make a lot of money… and sometimes that’s true. But sometimes, they take any gig they can, no matter how small or underpaid, just because they love doing what they do. My first year of speaking events… I was either paid nothing at all or was paid with $15 Starbucks gift cards. To this day I do free events for small groups like MOPS, youth groups, group homes or public school classrooms. I do this because I love it. Most performers do what they do because they also love it, and not being able to tour damages their livelihood and life can feel a bit directionless for them. So I sent a note of encouragement to Novo Amor (or “Novo Armor” as London calls them - *insert ugly cry emoji*) to let them know that even if their UK tours stop… their music can still be heard drifting from bedroom of a little girl in America who is a tiny, adorable little super fan… even though she doesn’t even have psoriasis.

Day 6: Finding the KEYS to Kindness

We are almost through the first week of #AdamsActs and I admit that I have found myself in high spirits as a result. Despite some rough stuff we are facing in my family, I forgot how refreshing and sustaining kindness can be. Throughout the year, I try to take every opportunity to delight, encourage and uplift those around me. But, I am reminded that there is a distinct difference between taking an opportunity and making an opportunity. The past couple of Octobers were pretty terrible in the way of #AdamsActs. I felt run down, beat up and as though I was not doing enough. After two garbage years, I think expectations of me are appropriately low and I am really enjoying the return to purely striving to make my interactions lighter, gentler and kinder.  

For Day 6, I wanted to surprise two of my colleagues who do a lot of work behind the scenes. Oftentimes our greatest contributions - at home, in the workplace and in our relationships - are not noticed or appreciated by anyone. I wanted to remind them both (via an awkward speech) that the work they do is valuable and appreciated. What says “I see you and I appreciate you” like a pair of ladies socks, a cactus and a wee little pumpkin? 

Correct, there is nothing that says it better.

We all know that feeling of being unseen or undervalued, so I thought I would share a few things I have done in the past to make others’ feel appreciated in case you are looking for ideas.

1. Leave a letter of appreciation and a candy bar where the custodial staff at work will find it. (*If your workplace has mice, skip on the candy bar in favor of… I don’t know… maybe those colorful glass candies in the fancy crystal dish? I don’t know, just the letter is what counts.)

2. Hide little thank you notes around your home. A note inside the dryer or dishwasher so that the next person to do that chore feels appreciated. If it happens to be YOU that finds the note… then I insist that next time you include a generous gift card so you really feel properly thanked for all you do.

3. Leave encouraging notes in your coworkers’ mailbox.

4. Bring in a treat for the group of volunteers you serve with.

5. Say thank you. Be specific and gush a little.

6. Send a text to someone you love and tell them mid-day why you appreciate them. I love to text my teenagers while they’re at school so they know that I am thinking of them out of the blue, even when they’re not around. A simple “I appreciate how hard you work in school!” or “Thanks for being such a good example to your siblings!” or “Thank you so much for always thinking of me as the cool mom. You don’t even have to say it… because I know it’s in your heart!!!”  

Be creative and thoughtful, care for and recognize others the way you would want to be cared for and acknowledged. When in doubt, the old socks-n-gourd approach is a hit. 

I was also the recipient of two kindnesses today as well! Unexpectedly, another colleague/friend/former boss, Aaron, texted saying he had something for me! Naturally I assumed it was something in the sock/cactus/gourd family… but to my surprise it was a nice set of mud flaps. Or not mud flaps exactly but rather these floor mat things for winter that are customized to the exact specifications of my mom van. (We used to drive the same mom van and his died so I inherited his flap trays.) I think that I will be really excited about this in the winter when everything inside my van is slushy and salt-encrusted. That was kindness number one. As we were discussing the many benefits of said flaps, I dropped my keys. Into the storm drain. Because of course I did.

Kindness number two was the eventual, heroic retrieval of my car keys using litter pickers, and trust me, it was impressive. I leave you with this photo compilation entitled:

BUT NOBODY WAS AS IMPRESSED WITH HIM…

AS HE WAS WITH HIMSELF

Days 3-5: All the Tiny Little Things

Before I give my quick little update about the last few days, I want to sincerely thank each of you who have shared the posts to your social media or who have done #AdamsActs of your own. 2020 is broken. Like, the worst. So, every act of kindness we can do during a time in our country when there is so much strife and division… it’s a small beacon of light and hope. I really believe that.

For Day 3, we puppysat for our neighbor. Technically we were only asked to take little Rip out three times, but we peer pressured our neighbor Gina into letting us keep him with us all day. Our pup, Scout, sits home all day dreaming of friends to play with. So, playing with this tiny little micro dog was her dream come true.

For Day 4, my daughter, London wanted to bring her friend Bree some flowers and a tiny little micro cake for her birthday.

And finally for Day 5, I brought some snacks to my friend Paul. Paul is stored in my phone as “Helpful Paul” because he will literally give you the shirt off his back if you need it. But, as a fun bonus, he isn’t actually a “people person” in the traditional sense, so when he would give you his shirt… he’d say something like, “As a robot-man, I don’t actually feel temperature so you might as well take my shirt since your human deficiency requires a need to be met, which is both a weakness and also something I can resolve.”

It’s my favorite.

So Paul came and helped serve on my volunteer team at THREE church services we put on every Sunday. Bringing a few snacks is a tiny way to say thank you, but it’s a lonnnnggggg morning for volunteers, and even a robot-man needs to eat. (Which is both a weakness and something I could resolve.)

If you want to hear more about #AdamsActs and everything coming up in October, please take a listen to my podcast! We just launched season three of the Master of Fun Podcast and you can listen here on Apple podcasts or here on Spotify… or you can google it and listen anywhere you get your podcasts! Keep sharing, keep doing micro acts of kindness, and please keep using the hashtag #AdamsActs!

Day 2: Dire Straits

My act of kindness for Day 2, was an opportunity for kindness that just sort of fell into my lap. Or more accurately… was hurled at me from a moving vehicle. That’s right. I was driving down the main street on my way home when an iPhone flew out of the car in front of me and skidded some distance, stopping in the turning lane. I quickly stopped in the middle of the road, scrambled between traffic to grab it in the turn lane where I observed that the phone was entirely unharmed, in perfect condition and IT WAS STILL PLAYING MUSIC!

I burst out laughing in the middle of the road because, for starters, the screen on my phone cracks if I so much as send a passive aggressive text message. And second, I could not believe that someone would be jammin’ out to Dire Straits on their fancy iphone 11 and yet NOT NOTICE when said fancy phone just flew away.

My maniacal laughter in the middle of the road (while clutching a thousand dollar phone in my hands) probably made me look like the worst kind of finders-keepers jerks in history. So, I quickly explained to the dog walker who witnessed my behavior that I fully intended to chase the car down and return it at the next stoplight. I jumped back in my car and floored it.

Apparently, the kind of person who throws a phone out the window willy nilly and without pause, is also the type of person who drives super fast. I ran two red lights (unless you, the reader, has the authority to ticket me for that, then lol jk I did not…) and even so I lost the guy.

The phone was locked with a passcode and/or face id. The only thing I knew for sure at that moment was that the owner of the phone did not have my exact face. He did, however, have a very lovely woman as the background of his phone and I knew that I could use this as a clue. I used my phone - with its screen so shattered that I literally picked a shard of glass out of my thigh yesterday - and took a picture of his indestructable phone and posted the photo on several local Facebook groups in hopes that I could track the owner down. And maybe, as a bonus, we could become friends and I could talk through whatever rage problem led to frisbeeing this perfect, magical phone-of-the-future out the window in the first place.

I immediately started getting suggestions about using Siri to call “mom” or “dad” in hopes of connecting with a loved one. I tried both “mom” and “dad” with no luck, so I just tried random names. This whole month of kindness is in memory of my brother, Adam, so I thought I would try his name first. Well, Adam didn’t pick up and I panicked about what to say in a voicemail and just hung up. I tried a couple other common names, with no luck.

Until, Mike.

Mike came through for me! Here is an abridged version of our conversation:

Mike: Hey, Thomas!

Me: Nope.

Me: (Tells whole story. Realizes how absurd I am as a person. Gives this stranger my phone number.)

Mike: I’m on it.

An hour later Thomas is in my driveway to retrieve his phone. He told me the whole story about how he got distracted and placed his phone on the roof of his car. Apparently I would make for a horrible eye witness because I would have bet my life that thing came flying directly out the window. We chatted for a few minutes and he told me about his bride (pictured above on the pristine and impenetrable glass screen above) and a really cool story about his life, overcoming some personal obstacles and how the Adam I randomly asked Siri to call was a guy he went golfing with ten years ago and never saw again. He offered me a very generous reward, which I denied (because human decency) and I made him listen to me explain #AdamsActs instead.

Not bad for Day 2. I want to thank each and every one of you who has shared the blog with others. Before Mystery Mike and I hung up the phone he said something like, “It’s really nice to know there are still good people out there willing to help a stranger.” Well, Mike… be encouraged. Because this month, there are thousands of us out there willing to help, run a red light or two, and extend kindness to a stranger.

Day 1: The Hardest Story I Never Told

When October rolls around I get stuck. It is as though my body - my soul -  involuntarily braces itself for trauma. The crisp fall air, the smell of leaves and bonfires... they are all beautiful, nostalgic reminders of fall, and also nightmarish triggers that put my physical and emotional self on high alert, tragedy-ready. The grief that October holds for my family has always had a sort of gravitational pull on me. That one fateful night in October is how I mark time. 

There is life before, and then there is after. 

When I was invited to participate in a kindness challenge several Octobers ago, I agreed in hopes that I could use kindness as a way to process through the loads of unresolved grief I had been carrying since my childhood. Never in a million years did I think that thousands of participants would ultimately join in spreading kindness in memory of a boy that very few had the privilege of knowing. So each year, I do this again. I tell the story of the night that changed everything. Each year I edit it a bit, and I try to change things a little… but the sad reality is that although that night changed everything… the story itself does not ever change. I cannot edit a better ending for Adam. It wouldn’t be honest, or real. So, here is that story, in all it’s hesitant and vulnerable glory, as i first shared it with the world

—

I am going to tell you a story. 

I haven't done this before, told this story, so detailed and so publicly. But, I am going to try something big this month, and I think I need to tell this story in order to do it well. So, here goes nothin’...

It was Halloween night many years ago, and my 17 year old brother, Adam H. Provencal, was driving home from the Regional Championship Soccer game. He was a senior in high school and the captain of the soccer team, and this victory was worth celebrating, and it was big news worth spreading for our small, West Michigan town. When my brother (and his friend Mike) were driving home, they passed some of their friends out playing some harmless Halloween pranks and it seemed the perfect time to spread the news. So Adam pulled the car over and began regaling the details of their night, of his team and their victory. 

I have no idea what my brother was thinking or feeling in that moment but, my guess, is freedom. I imagine a boy -  a sweet boy, crazy about sports, working so hard to maintain his 4.0 GPA in mostly advanced placement classes, editor-in-chief of the nationally recognized school paper, and all-around nice guy. And I imagine the pressure that that brings on a kid. I imagine him in this moment, and the hard work (for now) is done and has paid off with a regional championship. And he's free. 

He is young and free, and he wants to tell his friends.

So, he pulls over and he and his friends are joking around and talking and hanging out, and they are young and free and unburdened in this one, pure moment.

The whimsical, carefree youth of the moment ended when a homeowner came out and was irate to discover toilet paper in his trees and the saran wrap on his car. Though my brother had not been personally involved in executing these pranks, he had the car and perhaps that made him appear to be the ringleader. This man, carrying a canoe paddle, yelled and threatened to call the police and then took down my brother’s license plate number. I don't really know if that was why Adam felt the need to go to the door or not, but he did. He decided he would walk up to the home, to apologize for being there: wrong place, wrong time. He planned to clear his name and offer to clean up the yard, and to be certain… he no longer felt young and free. He was likely terrified that he was going to get in trouble. So, he dutifully walked up to the man's door and knocked twice. 

The man did not open the door and hear him out, he did not yell at Adam to leave, he did not make good on his threat to call the police. When my 17 year old brother knocked on the door that night to have a hard conversation, he had a baby face and scrawny limbs and braces in his mouth. And when Adam knocked twice on that door, the man gave no warning before he pulled the trigger of his shotgun, sending one, single blast through the closed front door. 

One bullet.

One bullet changed many lives, some lives even devastated. But only one life was ended. My only brother, my parents' only son, my hero, my friend... the only person strong enough to jump on a trampoline with me on his shoulders, and the boy who led me to a great faith adventure with Jesus, and taught me to dance like M.C. Hammer, and how to be funny enough to joke my way out of trouble. He was gone. 

His murderer was in and out of jail after only two years. Two years. For a boy's life taken in a rage over a harmless prank. The senselessness of my brother’s death, the injustice, the lack of resolve… these are the things that haunted me each October. As I grew up and became a mother to my five little crazies, I was no longer satisfied to keep all of my little girl grief locked away inside me. I needed to do something. I had to be productive and focus outward or I would implode with this seasonal grief and cyclical depression. I wanted to commit myself to honor all the good Adam would have done to the glory of God if he had been given that opportunity. Thousands of readers/listeners now participate each October in an initiative we call #AdamsActs, because these are the types of kind acts we believe Adam would have spent his life bestowing upon others had his life not been tragically cut short. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Well, here is my chance... 39 is just about as grown up as a girl can expect to be.

I cannot change the outcome of Adam’s story. I cannot edit out the pain or the deep grief of such a heartbreaking ending. But I am not powerless. I get to change the outcome of my own story. I get to choose how to respond to the greatest loss of my life. THAT is a story that I do get to write.

And If I can’t change Adam’s story, I might as well try to change the world. One act of kindness at a time.

My #AdamsAct for Day One is sharing this story with you all. And asking you to share it as well. I am rallying the people around me to participate, and while I AM an absolute pleasure… I’m also a little feisty, so I am bossing YOU into participating too. You’re welcome. I will blog and podcast throughout each week of October so be sure to check back here and also check out THIS PODCAST EPISODE if you would like to take a deeper dive into all my baggage and hear more about the night that Adam was killed and some of my journey since.

The greatest kindness you can do for me and my family is to like and share the blog posts and podcasts to your social media, and why not challenge everyone you know? (Unless you hate kindness.) Spread the word. Do any act of kindness you can, no matter how small. To follow along and contribute to our collective journey, please use the hashtag #AdamsActs in pictures and posts so we can all see how far reaching an impact our kindnesses can make. Each year looks a little differently based on my crazy, unpredictable life… but given everything going on in the world right now, I believe there hasn’t been a better time to enter into a season of kindness. I want you to be part of that.

Thank you for allowing me to share my family's story with you. If I can't spend my days watching my brother live out all the remarkable kindness that was in his heart, the next best thing is watching all of you do it in his memory.

In loving memory of our beloved brother, buddy and hero.

To hear more about Lara’s journey with grief, trauma, transracial adoption and life with five kids, you can follow her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lara.capuano or instagram @laracapuano or check out her podcast: Master of Fun