Making Room for Everybody, by Frances FitzGerald

Welcome to the fall 2015 issue of MU Voices.

At Madonna University--and in MU Voices--we don't believe we all have to be the same. Indeed, what a colorless environment this would be if we were! Instead, as a reflection of our Franciscan values, we hold our arms open to everyone, even those we disagree with or don't understand. A recent Mission Matters message reads, "We promote a culture that is nonjudgmental, nurturing, faith-filled and responsive to persons..."

However, Franciscan values face a formidable challenge in this era of great divisiveness. We see it in our political systems, among races, within religious faiths, and throughout the world. Extremism leads to each side demonizing the other, a devolution that leeches away our humanity.

We can't afford it.

MU Voices tries to take at least one infinitesimal step toward inclusiveness. We hold our arms open to all Madonna writers, artists, photographers, filmmakers. We may not be comfortable with everyone's message, but we welcome them all the same. Their voices count, too.

Trying to live up to Franciscan values will never be easy, but let's demand no less from ourselves. As Pope Francis continues to show us, we're better off opening our hearts instead of closing our minds.

We'll be adding submissions to MU Voices over the next few weeks--specifically, our memories of Patrick Moore and Christine Burchett--so please check in often.

Frances E. FitzGerald

MU Voices editor

Heart-breaking Losses

It's been a difficult week for the Madonna University community. Patrick Moore, director of sports information, passed away Sunday, November 29. Another unexpected loss occurred on Wednesday, December 2, with the passing of Nursing Professor Christine Burchett.

Student Shannon Dusute has generously shared excerpts from a memory book on Patrick Moore that she is helping to compile. I would also gratefully welcome stories and fond memories of Christine Burchett so I can include them here. Both were a integral part of the fabric of Madonna, and both will be sorely missed.

Blaire Schmalenberg

The memories I have shared with Pat during my four years at Madonna are endless. Pat was truly a spectacular person who impacted so many people’s lives in just such a short time. When I first came to Madonna as a freshman, the word was that Pat’s office was the hangout spot, whether it was just to talk, stop in and say hello, or to grab a piece of candy. By the time I was a senior, I realized how true this statement really was.

Walking down the athletic hallway and peaking around the corner to see if Pat’s door is open is a daily routine of mine. He was someone that I could always count on to say “Hello, friend” when I was having a bad day. He was always there when I needed something and, most importantly, was always there to cheer us athletes on.

Although I have many memories of Pat, my favorite one was after one of my soccer games this season against University of Detroit Mercy. After the game, I was walking to the bench with my head down after a very tough overtime loss. I heard Pat say very quietly, “Blaire, good job. I’m proud of you.” That moment defined Pat’s true support and compassion for his Madonna athletes. That is only one memory of many in which he demonstrated this during my four years at Madonna.

This school will never be the same without Pat; however, Madonna athletics would never be what they are today without him, either. Pat was not only an athletic director to us students, he also made an effort to get to know us individually and build friendships with many of us. Every time I entered Pat’s office he would say, “Hello Ms. Schmalenberg, what can I do for you?” Every time I left his office he would say “Stay out of trouble and get good grades.”

The love and compassion that Pat had for his job and for his students will never be forgotten. I pray that Pat knows the impact he has left on this world. It takes a very special person to leave this world touching so many people’s lives. The person he was and what he has done will never be forgotten, and he will be in our hearts forever.

Emily Lipe

Pat Moore was an unbelievable man who taught me so much about life. Not only was I honored to share in so much of his joy, laughter, and happiness, but I was also able to share in the joy, laughter, and happiness that he gave to my best friend, Amanda Geraci. Seeing their relationship grow into what it was, was truly something that I will never forget. My favorite memories of Pat include his incessant need to constantly talk in a British accent whenever I was around (may I add that this annoyed Amanda to no end!), the way he was constantly “grammar policing” any and every email that came by his desk and, most importantly, the constant love he shared with everyone he came in contact with. Spending most of my evenings with Pat and Amanda after a long day always brought a smile to my face. I will always remember Pat as the encourager when things got difficult, and I know that he is looking down on us with his encouraging smile forever and always.

-- Frances FitzGerald (ffitzgerald@madonna.edu)

I’m Running out of Hashtags, by Delvonta’ Pinkston

I feel so many things that it’s hard to even write this sentence. I don’t really have any words. I just have hurt and pain and anger and tears that won’t mean a thing because they, along with my life and body, aren’t valued. How long can I numb myself to pain that has been inflicted on me long before I was here to feel it? How long can I go on creating and sharing hashtags before the next black person is killed, unarmed and unjustly?

As a matter of fact, I am angry. I am extremely angry at the never-ending, systematic racism and discrimination that people of color have to face on a daily basis. I’m upset that I always end up explaining a system of oppression to the same damn people who benefit from the same damn system. It’s aggravating as hell. It’s like shooting someone in the face and then asking them to prove how much it hurts or prove that the shot was even fired in the first place.
 

It’s exhausting and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m running out of hashtags because by the time I type and post one, another unarmed black person has been unjustly murdered. Murdered by the very same who are sworn to protect, but then I have to remember that that oath never included me or any other person of color. Not really, anyway. We were never included in that oath to protect or serve because our humanity has never been accepted.

It’s a harsh reality, but it’s one that black people and other people of color are all too accustomed to in this country. It’s living in this reality that makes me wonder if a hashtag is enough to combat this system of oppression. Promoting awareness certainly has its purpose, but how do we move forward? How do we move forward before the hurt and the pain of oppression erode and consume us? I am honest enough to admit that I don’t have the answer.

I don’t have a solution. All I have right now is hurt and pain and anger and tears. Those and hashtags, but like I said, I’m running out. 

Stay Sane,

Delvonta' P.

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