Author: gracesmuggler

I saw a video of Senator-Elect Abdul El-Sayed sharing how vital it will be to take tangible actions to address the affordability crisis that so many people are facing.

He shared, “But the bigger picture is this: What is the point of power if you’re not using it to make people’s lives better? Winning and losing elections is not the outcome. Making people’s lives better is the outcome. And so, to me, the question is less political strategy — how do we use this moment to make sure we win more elections? The question is, ‘Hey, Americans are struggling. They just asked you, tapped you in to go and help. Go help! Because that’s the whole point of having the job.’ There is no point in having these jobs but doing the things that the public needs you to do.

“And right now, people are struggling under the weight of an affordability crisis that is crushing them at every single turn. They are worried about whether or not their hospital or clinic will collapse tomorrow, let alone their ability to even walk in and get care without getting hit with a bill they can’t pay. They look at their kids’ schools and say, ‘Why does this place look like it did 30 years ago when I went here? Why are the teachers here underpaid? Why do we not have the paraprofessionals to make sure that my kid can be their best student every single day?’ They look at their infrastructure and say, ‘Why is that bridge crumbling? Why are these roads failing?’ They turn on their tap and say, ‘Is this water safe to drink?’ They go outside and take a big, deep breath of air and wonder whether or not this has been poisoned by a smokestack across the road. These are the issues that the American public elected us to deal with.

“The only point of having the job is to do it.”

This rang true to me on so many levels, and maybe it will for you as well. Of course, I agree with everything he said when it comes to our political system and our need for action. But in so many roles and functions in society, isn’t it so easy to spend a great deal of time making sure that those roles and institutional systems can continue existing?

Truth be told, that is work that’s needed. But soon, self and institutional perpetuation can become so central that we’re no longer delivering the change those roles and institutions are meant to bring about.

The only point of having the job is to do it. I take this in, too.

—Renee Roederer

4,777.4 Miles Total

In September 2023, I bought an e-bike, and I named her Zelda Zoomie. Since that time, I’ve been biking to every street in Ann Arbor in alphabetical order. I just finished the H streets. Every time I complete a letter, I write a reflection on place.

I began biking Ann Arbor’s H streets on July 8, when I pedaled to Haisley Drive. I completed this list of streets this evening, November 11, after making my way to Hutchins Avenue. When I began this part of my journey, the leaves on the trees were green and full. And I had my own energy as well; I live for Michigan’s summer months.

Since that time, I’ve been able to witness the life cycle of this season’s leaves. Before they become untethered and drift to the ground, they do something gorgeous. They stop producing. As the days grow shorter, their photosynthesis slows and eventually stops. We humans tend to think we might rot and lose our value if we stop producing. Of course, that is never true, and we would do well to learn a lesson from the trees.

In that final stage, the green chlorophyll breaks down, and in its place, other colors are revealed. The leaves don’t simply change color. In many cases, the yellow and orange pigments were there all along, hidden beneath the green.

Could we surprise ourselves by finding intrinsic value in ourselves? Or one another? Could we marvel at that beauty — revealed, not for what we do, but simply for who we are?

Now many — probably most — of the leaves have fallen. But I still wheel around a corner and find myself stunned by these revelations of color. They can still be discovered.

And now, I like to think about the energy of those trees, no longer being produced in the leaves, making its way into the roots. This is probably less scientific and more imaginative. But there’s something stunning about knowing that trees can store energy in their root systems — and that, through their connections, resources can be shared.

We can wait for that stored energy to support a new season of leaves, but for now, it simply is — at the base, under the ground, in the connections.

Sustenance in the producing. Worth in the revealing. Energy in the grounding. Maybe that could be true for us, too.

—Renee Roederer

Do you have another place? Somewhere you absolutely love to visit as often as you can?

Maybe it’s a park. Maybe it’s a friend’s house. Maybe it’s a place where someone you love lives — in another city, another state, or even another country. It’s that other place where you feel at home. Do you have a place like that?

I have a place like that. For more than a decade, I’ve loved visiting Durham, North Carolina, as often as I can. Initially, I visited because some of my longtime friends had moved there. But over time, I realized it was a place where I could put down roots of my own. I have a large community there now, with friendships I’ve developed over the years, favorite local haunts, and places in nature that I’ve come to love.

Recently, my favorite musician had a concert there. I enjoyed seeing a social media video in which he shared that he’d spent the day exploring a local park near the river and had gotten totally lost. Then he added, “Anyway, it turns out this Durham is excellent. That was my first impression of Durham — that it’s safe to get lost here because you’ll always find your way home.”

That feels so true to me, too.

So where is your place like that? A place that feels close to you even when you’re not physically there?

—Renee Roederer

Just a few days ago 15% of the typical annual rainfall fell in a matter of hours in Gaza. And now, families are suffering in toxic flooding because the drainage systems have been destroyed. A blockade keeps materials and heavy machinery from reaching Gaza. What are people supposed to do?

I recently a video by Misan Harriman which spoke up about the sorrow and rage he feels when he sees the images of the suffering. Here is what he asks of all of us:

The question we have to ask ourselves is, “How much do we want these people to endure?… What more do you want these people to endure? Is it white phospherous? Is it mothers running the gauntlet of sniper fire to pick up the remains of their children so they don’t get eaten by dogs? Is it the equivalent of six hiroshimas dropped on a place as small as Gaza? Is it children losing their hair, self harming, having their hair go white? Children having heart attacks? Have you ever heard of such a thing?

“Is it mothers having caesarians with no pain relief? Having babies with no incubators so they take their first breath only to take their last? Giving birth to babies with serious and new complications? Is it their lack of oncology care, meaning that those with cancer don’t have a fighting change for their life? What do more do you want these people to endure? Is it all the doctors, Palestinian and Western, that have given testimony on the source of primal, medieval violence that the devil would look away from? What more?”

We must see, remember, and advocate. No one deserves to live in conditions like these. If we believe in universal human rights, we must work so that no one faces such harm.

—Renee Roederer

My little seminary is having its 15 minutes of fame. Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary is a small place, but it has a big influence. I’ve found myself reflecting on that this week.

Last Tuesday, James Talarico was elected to be the next U.S. Senator from Texas. At age 37, he’ll be the youngest sitting senator when he takes office, and he’s already made a significant impact on state politics. His speeches have inspired many people, and I’ve especially noticed folks sharing his victory speech, in which he called for a different style of politics.

James Talarico has been a student at the same seminary where I received my degree. It was fun to see people sharing the congratulatory post that the seminary published after his win. But as I’ve watched him speak, I’ve especially enjoyed recognizing the wisdom of professors I’ve learned from, too.

When he talks about his faith, and when he casts a vision for change without explicitly using faith language, I hear echoes of people I know very well. Their wisdom shows up in my life, too. I’ve recognized familiar ways of framing belonging, community, and inclusion. These ideas are certainly expressed in ways that are uniquely his own, but I can also hear the voices of people who taught us both. Their influence has traveled into many different lives and different settings, taking on new expressions along the way.

And I suspect this happens in our lives more often than we realize. This particular example just happens to be unfolding on a national stage.

Have you ever met someone and recognized that you’ve been loved or influenced by some of the same people? Or have you ever connected two people from entirely different parts of your life, only to discover that they share language, values, or ways of understanding the world?

There’s something remarkable about recognizing the influence of people we know and love in someone we’ve never met. The reach of our relationships extends far beyond what we can see.

—Renee Roederer

–Photos by Renee Roederer

I really enjoy a weekly email written by Melissa Kirsch of The New York Times. It’s called “The Good List.” Each Wednesday, she curates a list of 5–6 really good, interesting, creative, neato things.

This week, she introduced her readers to Local Wikipedia, which describes itself as “Wikipedia but only for things a half-hour walk from you.” If you enter your ZIP code, you can learn about landmarks, architecture, and historical establishments within 1.5 miles of that location.

If you want to explore your own neighborhood, or perhaps another, I encourage you to give it a try. Let me know if you find something fun!

—Renee Roederer

We could say that it’s important to make space for surprise and delight. But in all honesty, sometimes positive surprises find us first and make space within us, totally unexpectedly. Sometimes delight shows up unbidden and invites us into something more.

When was the last time you felt that way?

Whatever comes to mind, here’s a great song for it:

Lorenzo Salgado Araujo. Renee Good. Alex Pritti.

In the last year, they all lost their lives when ICE agents fired guns and killed them. These losses are devastating beyond words. They had so many unique, beautiful ways of being in the world — nicknames, loves, hobbies, skills, favorites, dreams, commitments — but most of us know their names because of their deaths. Those losses matter. But their lives matter all the more.

Over the last few weeks, during early voting and on Election Day, hundreds of people in Houston and Minneapolis placed their “I Voted” stickers on their memorials.

We can’t bring them back, and I wish we could.

But this touches me.

—Renee Roederer