From someone who has benefited greatly by Melissa’s “Donna” like acts, I can certainly say, I know it would be you! Thank-you Melissa!

Adrienne

Thank you for your very kind words. We must have been in a ward together previously?

As Latter-day Saints we are carefully taught to give and serve. We are also consistently reminded to be self-sufficient. These lessons, while important, can sometimes cause us to overlook or undervalue that sort of mutual interdependence which is necessary to flourish. This has been a difficult truth for me to accept, but I’m grateful for the many opportunities I’ve been given lately to practice it.

It sounds like you recently had a reminder too. I’m so glad that you felt comfortable enough to share your own story. I think you’re just right that experiencing need may very well be the way “Donna’s are made.”

Mary, please continue to comment here. We need your voice at Times and Seasons.

Typically, I find this blog too intimidating for me to make comments, I’m not as articulate as many of you. But Melissa stirs me to write in and say, “Amen, sister!” By writing to us of your experience, you are providing a common thread, albeit a cyber thread, for which we all, regardless of our life’s circumstances, can understand. All of us have moments (and I stress “moments”) of loneliness, of feeling high and dry. We all occasionally struggle with allowing someone full access to our vulnerable times, when we have become incapacitated in one form or another, and cannot do for ourselves what nevertheless needs to be done.

I had an experience about a month ago, where I was overcome with a sudden pain, which hit me out of the clear blue on a bus to work one day. It incapacitated me so immediately, and so completely, that I nearly lost consciousness. I literally could not control my response to the pain; it hit me like a freight truck. My body broke into sweat, the blood drained from my face, and I collapsed as soon as I got off the bus. This has NEVER happened to me before. I had lost control completely, I could not move for the pain. And all the while I was experiencing this, marveling at what in the world was happening to me, I felt a calm thought going over and over in my mind which, if put into words, went like this: let yourself be helped.

I, too, am unmarried and have family far away. I do have roommates, who were all at work, which I suppose I could have called. However, I knew I couldn’t even lift my head, much less dial a phone number. Besides that, like Melissa, my first inclination is to handle anything and everything by myself. Because I can. Well, perhaps not this.

So as I’m kneeling by a park bench, waiting for the pain to subside long enough to get to a private area, two men (yes, MEN) approached me and immediately began to help. One of them gave me his water, while another went to go get some ibuprofen. A third man (yes, MAN) had called an ambulance, much to my horrifying shame. They all stayed with me until the EMT’s showed up. As I spoke with the EMT’s, I noticed that the pain, which before had prevented me from even putting five words together, was starting to subside. I now had enough strength to explain to the guys that I did not need a hospital, and that I would be fine. It took a few minutes to convince them, but I felt certain that this wasn’t a serious matter. I signed a waiver, and they were on their way.

I like to look back on this and ponder what I learned. One aspect of it that gives me a great amount of happiness, is my increased faith in the inherent decency of men. (Call me Ms. Du Bois, as well, though I think my problem for most of my life has been the lack of dependency on the kindness of anyone!) I came away grateful for a hard but poignant lesson. I also came away humbled at the love given to me though this bizarre experience – not just by the those men that assisted me, but also through the companionship of the Holy Ghost. I know He was there, pointing out the significant parts of it to me, to ensure that I was learning what was there to be learned.

So you can see, Melissa, why I so appreciated your post. And I feel connected with you (in a silly way, maybe) because of what we’ve both learned about helping others, and allowing others to help us. For all we know, Donna had a Donna, which later allowed Donna to be your Donna. ;-) Perhaps this process is how Donna’s are made, how we learn to succor those who are in need; we need to understand what it is to need! Though my experience is teeny and meaningless in comparison, it is nevertheless not too far off from the pattern established by our Supreme Rescuer in Gethsemane and Golgotha. I hope that that’s not too presumptuous of me to say.

Because of my experience, I suppose I have a much better shot at being a Donna someday than I ever did before. Anyway, thanks again Melissa. What a great story.

No feminism involved in this subject at all.

Well, I’m sorry that my comment disappointed you. Let’s see –

1. For not trying to write a post about the fear of being alone, you did a very good job of showing how that fear operates (I think). Your description of your position — “I had been largely successful in my efforts up to that point to keep my composure during the chaos, but his question made me feel pathetic. ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘There isn’t anyone to call.’” — is very strong. That whole paragraph is a powerful description of the fear of being alone. “I wasn’t alright. I was miserable and in pain and I was going to have to be miserable and in pain by myself.”

Of course, your Donna-ex-machina would be substantially less impressive if she didn’t have a dragon to slay. So maybe it was your intent to show the stark contrast between your earlier state of fear and loneliness, and your later state of comfort.

Still, the take-home point that I came away with was “how awful that she had to suffer like that with no one to call!”

2. Well, we agree here, I think, so there’s nothing to argue about. :)

3. As usual, I have a knack for saying things in precisely the wrong way.

Let me try to rephrase my point. We all operate on a spectrum between the poles of independence and security. Any move in either direction will entail trade-offs. There are things to like about independence. And there are things to like about security.

Your story made me think of that trade-off — it struck me that you were in a position where you had left behind many of the normal Mormon security networks, and that your predicament was in part a function of your place on the independence-security spectrum. I mean, isn’t that right? (Put aside my possibly-incoherent attempt to connect it to a broader feminist arc for a second, please). I mean, if you had broken your ankle in Provo, would you be relying on Donna? For all of its drawbacks, Utah has a pretty good member support network, and the East doesn’t. (You allude to this, mentioning seldom-seen home and visiting teachers).

Anyway, I still think that the independence that draws people away from family networks — and hey, I’m doing this myself — has a lot in common with Virginia Woolf’s room of one’s own, and her discussion of exile. But I shouldn’t have said that that was “what feminism is all about” — overstatement on my part, for sure. Or perhaps one of those “but you didn’t read what I meant?” moments.

4. I too value my online friends. You guys people are great! :)

But it is definitely fun to meet people in person.

5. I hope you’re feeling better soon. And don’t forget to watch your step! ;)

1. In no way was I trying to articulate “the worry of being alone.” Of
course there are moments when I am faced with the reality of not having the
support of a spouse, when my car breaks down on the highway or I fall in
step class, for example, but other than those exceptional experiences, I
rarely think about it. My post was not an attempt to evoke pity, but rather
a reminder that there will always be those in our sphere of influence who
are without support and who need us.

2. You are right that my situation is due in part to being a dissertating
graduate student. I am isolated as a function of both the city where I live
and also my work. I’ve never found myself quite so alone and imagine that I
won’t ever be so again. This highlights the fact that there might be those
around us whom we do not think of as being without support—they may have lots
of friends or come from a big family (as I do) but temporary circumstances
are such that they need us.

3. I couldn’t be more disappointed than I was by your description of my
situation as “what feminism is all about.” I would not characterize
feminism as being primarily about independence. What feminism *is* about is
really a topic for another post, but for the purposes of this comment,
feminism is about equality. Quite apart from the feminism issue is the
question of indepence versus security. You seem to suggest that these two
are mutually exclusive, which dichotomy is patently false. If by “secure”
you mean physical, psychological and/or financial security, then I have
personally been more secure in my independence than I ever have been in
previous experiences of “dependence.” Having said that, I am not in the
least committed to the sort of independence which you associate with being a
“stand-alone person.” I’m a communitarian, for heaven’s sake!
Independence does not exclude security (which is an important concept in
your comment that you fail to define) nor does it constitute security.

4. Lastly, I highly value my online friendships. However,
technology-mediated relationships, whether via computer as in blogging and
email or via telephone calls will always lack important aspects of live
friendships. There is something infinitely precious and irreplaceable about
voices and hands and faces. Still, I truly appreciate everyone’s kind
words.

My good friend BK is from Angola and we have been through some rough times the last several years since his conversion. He is rock solid in his testimony and has never openly struggled to stay active. He grew up in horrible poverty but better than most since his father was a leader, Catholic Priest (?) and shaman of his people and wealthy enough to be a polygamist. BK fought in the war in Angola, suffered incredibly but never mentions it. He is self educated, speaks English, Portuguese, French and a couple native languages and he has very original thoughts and insights.

BK came to the US and drives a taxi cab. He married and divorced before joining the church here. A couple years after his baptism his then 9 year old daughter was in the same SS class as my daughter. One Sunday afternoon she turned up missing. She was found strangled to death a few days later and BK was the prime suspect. The police did not have enough evidence to prosecute him but they were almost certain of his guilt and interrogated him intensely many times. We took our daughter to the horrible little funeral for her friend. BK returned to Angola which further heightened suspicion about him and showed back up here after several months. Few members even wanted to speak to him. Eventually another young girl living in her neighborhood confessed to killing his child with a shoe string over some petty gang related dare. I can not comprehend the agony he went through and yet he has kept a positive attitude.

BK met a beautiful woman from Brazil who visited our ward and married her after a short courtship about 4 years ago. They went to meet their families and she got stuck in Brazil. She is a second generation LDS and related to local leaders. They spent these first years of their marriage apart and only recently has she been able to get back here legally to live together. In spite of the long seperations they have managed to have two little children.

BK’s wife has a brother, Bro. W. who is a Branch President in Brazil. About 6 years ago several of the members in that part of Brazil chartered a bus for a temple trip of some 800 miles each way. On the return trip the bus collided with a truck and several of the members were injuried. This is the sort of news that you never read about in the Church News. Sis. W. had severe injuries to both of her legs which eventually resulted in their amputation. The amputations were not done skillfully and have required many revisions. Her doctors have done the best they can but it is not very good and they realize that if she could see a better surgeon in the US, her condition would be so much better and she might be able to be fitted with prosthetic devices that would allow her to walk and take better care of her two children, one of which was born after the accident. Amputation of both legs is a significant disability here with all of our medical resources. You can imagine how devistating it must be living in a third world country with few amenities and not having the use of your legs.

Sis W. is trying to come to the US and get treatment. She will probably plan to stay with her relatives initially and be in my ward. Of course she does not have insurance and just getting the plane fare will require several month’s wages. I told BK I would check around and see if there are any options. Especially since I do not live in Utah, are there any programs that give health care to members of the church from third world countries out there? Do any of you on this web site have any other ideas how we could help this faithful sister?
Where would I begin?

I realize that there are probably close to a million LDS in Brazil and it is a third world country and many of them probably have terrible problems. I can’t begin to help any of them but since I have know this BK dude for many years now and he has been through so much I want to help him help his sister-in-law. If I was reading this from some one else, it sounds like a possible con game or scam. The only assurance I have is that it is their relatives which is not going to fly with very many people. So legitimate charitable organizations have to be the way to go.

What I find interesting about your comment is how much I relate to it. I too would rather have gone through my little ordeal alone—so much so that if Donna had asked me if I wanted her help I would have refused. Because she insisted, however, it would have been rude for me to reject her. Her paternalism (or, more appropriately, maternalism) ended up being a good thing for me. And I think it was a good thing for her too.

Once I got over being self-conscious and proud and was able to really enjoy her presence, I recognized how much the experience meant to her. In fact, she repeated again and again how “grateful” she was that she hadn’t skipped class that night because clearly God had wanted her to be there to take care of me. Service is a funny thing that way. Before she left, Donna said that meeting me made her want to learn more about what Mormons believe. I thought she was crazy to say this. I should have been the one interested in her religion, right? After all she was the one who’d spent the evening serving me. But, curiously, that’s not how it played out. To my amazement, Donna left me that night with the feeling that I’d done something nice for her.

I think we often overlook the mutuality of service. I am coming to understand that being needed is a great gift.

Thank you for your thoughtful response to my post.

Levinas is a favorite of mine. Where do you teach and write about him? I’d love to get your thoughts on _Time and the Other_ sometime.

Crystal,

I’m in Riverside, RI (just South of Providence)

Taylor,

Thanks! You’ve always been such a good friend.

Davis,

You’re right. It is difficult to know when and how to help people. In my experience it is often those who do not ask for help who need it the most.