Upcoming Conclave

I have been spending the morning reading about the contenders for our new Pope. Mostly, it's John Allen who is leading the discussion. His daily Papabile posts are collected here, for anyone who has missed them:

Cardinal Scola
Cardinal Sandri
Cardinal Tagle
Cardinal Scherer
Cardinal Erdo
Cardinal Shonborn
Cardinal Ravasi
Cardinal Turkson
Cardinal Ranjith
Cardinal Sarah
Cardinal Rodriguez

I greatly appreciate his informative and balanced analysis of each of these leaders. What I come away with, after reading them all, is a deep sense of gratitude that we have so many excellent contenders. Each of these men are extremely learned, deeply in love with the Church, and capable of great acts of love and leadership. Not one has struck me as a "disaster" should he be chosen.

It's the main reason why I am approaching this conclave with a spirit of joy and expectation, rather than the feelings of dread, hopelessness, and disgust which accompany any American political election. I loved Pope John Paul II. I loved Papa Bene. I am confident I will love our new Pope as well. Also helping lift my spirits is my resolve to stay away from any secular coverage of the process or the men involved. Frankly, anything they can bring to the discussion is probably not worth knowing.

This is an exciting time for our Church, and one that gives us the opportunity to know better the men who form the top layer of Church authority. I confess I had read nothing about any of these men before I began this research. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn more about them, and about the Church in other parts of the world.

I had a conversation with a non-Catholic friend the other day who expressed utter shock that Catholicism was so large (1.2 billion.) In terms of proportion to population, Christianity is far and above the primary religion in the world, with over 2 billion adherents, of which half are Catholic and the other half are Protestant. Without the schism, the 1.5 billion Muslims in the world would be the second most populous denomination, instead of the first.

Last Conclave, I didn't read much about it, and though I followed the news on secular television on rejoiced when the white smoke appeared, I did not feel that I had a part in the process. This year, I am trilled to discover (hat tip to Better than Eden!) there is an opportunity to spiritually Adopt a Cardinal whom I can pray for during the Conclave.

I can't tell you how the whole-body wave of joy that swept over me when I discovered my Cardinal was from Africa! AFRICA!!! I received Robert Cardinal Sarah, of Guinea, himself a possible candidate for the papacy. I have printed out a picture of this beautiful man and am so excited to pray for the Holy Spirit to dwell within him during these upcoming weeks and guide the votes he casts.

Also, one final note. Whenever I watch any coverage of the Vatican I get goosebumps. Watching Pope  Benedict XVI fly over Rome on his way to the Castelgandalfo, I just felt so blessed to be able to witness it without having to actually live in Italy. And the sheer eye-candy of his final address to the Cardinals only enhanced the beauty of his words to them. The new media has brought challenges to our lives, but on the whole, it is such a marvelous tool to draw closer the varied and distant populations of our faith family. I am so grateful for everything today, for the Church, for the news, for our Pope Emeritus, and for the body of Cardinals who will choose the next occupant of the Chair of Peter. God Bless the Church!

It's about Forgiveness

This amazing article in the NY Times Magazine really struck me. It's the story of the Grosmaires, a Catholic family whose daughter, Ann, was murdered by her boyfriend and who decided to both forgive him and work concretely to reduce the sentence he would receive for the crime. They worked through a system called "restorative justice" which focuses on giving the accused a chance to participate in making amendment for the crime rather than simply "paying the price" for it.

Restorative justice consists of a meeting between the victim, the accused, law enforcement, a facilitator and sometimes affected family members. Everyone shares their experience of the crime and the damage it caused them, then the accused is given the opportunity to share what led to the crime and how they, too, were affected by it. Then the group decides, with input from everyone, what can be done going forward.

Usually restorative justice is used for property damage, theft, or other non-violent crimes. This is a landmark case where it was used successfully in a murder case.

The mediator, Sujatha Baliga, has her own inspiring story of forgiveness and learning to overcome anger. Everyone involved in the case has been touched by the approach.

It's very long, but filled with beautiful quotes like the following:

Ann’s face was covered in bandages, and she was intubated and unconscious, but Andy felt her say, “Forgive him.” His response was immediate. “No,” he said out loud. “No way. It’s impossible.” But Andy kept hearing his daughter’s voice: “Forgive him. Forgive him.”

Four days later, Ann’s condition had not improved, and her parents decided to remove her from life support. Andy says he was in the hospital room praying when he felt a connection between his daughter and Christ; like Jesus on the cross, she had wounds on her head and hand. (Ann had instinctually reached to block the gunshot, and lost fingers.) Ann’s parents strive to model their lives on those of Jesus and St. Augustine, and forgiveness is deep in their creed. “I realized it was not just Ann asking me to forgive Conor, it was Jesus Christ,” Andy recalls. “And I hadn’t said no to him before, and I wasn’t going to start then. It was just a wave of joy, and I told Ann: ‘I will. I will.’ ” Jesus or no Jesus, he says, “what father can say no to his daughter?”

Conor was prone to bursts of irrational rage. Ann never told her parents that he had struck her several times. Michael now feels, with searing regret, that he presented a bad example of bad-tempered behavior. “Conor learned how to be angry” is how he put it to me.

When it was Michael McBride’s turn to speak, sorrow overtook him and he told the group that if he had ever thought his shotgun would have harmed another person, he never would have kept it. Kate Grosmaire didn’t bring it up at the conference, but she says she has thought a lot about that gun. “If that gun had not been in the house, our daughter would be alive,” she told me.

As Conor told the story, Andy’s whole body began to shake. “Let me get this right,” he said, and asked Conor about Ann being on her knees. Baliga remembers Andy’s demeanor at this moment: “Andy is a very gentle person, but there was a way at that moment that he was extremely strong. There was just this incredible force of the strong, protective, powerful father coursing through him.” Conor answered, clarifying precisely how helpless Ann was at the moment he took her life.

The Grosmaires said they didn’t forgive Conor for his sake but for their own. “Everything I feel, I can feel because we forgave Conor,” Kate said. “Because we could forgive, people can say her name. People can think about my daughter, and they don’t have to think, Oh, the murdered girl. I think that when people can’t forgive, they’re stuck. All they can feel is the emotion surrounding that moment. I can be sad, but I don’t have to stay stuck in that moment where this awful thing happened. Because if I do, I may never come out of it. Forgiveness for me was self-preservation.”

Still, their forgiveness affected Conor, too, and not only in the obvious way of reducing his sentence. “With the Grosmaires’ forgiveness,” he told me, “I could accept the responsibility and not be condemned.” Forgiveness doesn’t make him any less guilty, and it doesn’t absolve him of what he did, but in refusing to become Conor’s enemy, the Grosmaires deprived him of a certain kind of refuge — of feeling abandoned and hated — and placed the reckoning for the crime squarely in his hands.  

Kate Grosmaire keeps asking herself if she has really forgiven Conor. “I think about it all the time,” she said. “Is that forgiveness still there? Have I released that debt?” Even as the answer comes back yes, she says, it can’t erase her awareness of what she no longer has. “Forgiving Conor doesn’t change the fact that Ann is not with us. My daughter was shot, and she died. I walk by her empty bedroom at least twice a day.”

Hyperemesis Gravidarum

An amazing post from a mother of 6 who suffered much more than I with her pregnancies: Hyperemesis Gravidarum

I completely understand everything she is talking about in this post; that's how my first and second babies were for me. Throwing up bile. Yep. I needed IVs every three days for dehydration. Oh, and the intolerance of any smells!

Things are definitely getting better for me this time around, but they are not good yet. I always hesitate to tell people I'm feeling "better" because the natural expectation is Oh, we'll be seeing her soon I guess! No. Better means I am not getting worse. Better means there are still 6 weeks to go before I can function and drive myself places and take care of my family. Better means that instead of having all-day, constant nausea that puts me on the verge of throwing up with every single bite of food, I have a few moments in the morning where I feel well enough to carry my laundry basket downstairs or sit at the table instead of lying on the couch. Better does NOT mean "all better."

Another thing that really resonated with me in Sarah's post is how much misunderstanding there is. When I was pregnant with my second and living with my mom, she kept pushing me to drink more water so I wouldn't be as dehydrated. I tried, in as few words as possible because talking made me throw up, to explain that every sip of water made my stomach seize and I had to drink slowly so I didn't throw up. And she said, "Well, Tienne, if the doctor told me to drink more water I would drink it, even if it made me throw up!" And I said, "What would that accomplish?" Because the truth of hyperemesis is that nothing helps. An empty stomach will make me throw up, but so will eating food. Drinking water would make me throw up (or Coke, or Gatorade, or milk, or juice, or Perrier, or Sprite, or Ginger Ale, or ANYTHING) yet if I didn't drink, I got dehydrated, and that made me throw up, too. You have no control over your body. There is NOTHING you can do to make it better.

I have been very fortunate with pregnancies #3 and #4 to have found a combination of medication and rest that works to keep me from throwing up, and yet every single moment of the day I am working on NOT throwing up. If I sneeze, my stomach seizes up, and I have to breathe gently and keep very still for a few minutes until it stops rumbling and clenching, or I will throw up. I try as much as possible to keep myself in that perfect state of "food in my stomach, but not overfull" so that if I do sneeze, or cough, or get startled by a bird flying into the window, my subsequent reaction is not to throw up. When I was pregnant with my second, I got word that my cousin had given birth to a baby girl, and I gasped in elated surprise. And threw up, just from that. I remember it vividly because I had been drinking a glass of milk, and it came out in one, horrible, gelatin-like chunk that wobbled when it hit the bucket.

It's not just the unpleasantness of throwing up that I'm trying to avoid. Sarah has a great line in her post that hits the nail on the head:

(One of the crappiest things about hyperemesis is that once you get to a certain dehydration level it is super hard to recover from it-and every symptom just gets worse and worse-it is a vicious cycle-it needs to be diagnosed early on.) 

For me, throwing up makes it more likely that I will throw up. My stomach will be more prone to seizing, my gag reflex will be more sensitive, my aversions will be stronger because every time I look at a certain food I will remember the taste and sensation of throwing it up, and I will be unable to eat it. My entire day revolves around trying to not throw up.

I don't experience hyperemesis the way I did with pregnancies #1 and #2 BECAUSE I am putting all my concentration into avoiding throwing up. My baby is actually getting the nutrition I consume because the food I eat is being processed through my digestive system instead of lining the sewer pipes. The most important work I do every day is keeping my food down.

It is very very long. We are on week eight of my illness. I know the light at the end of the tunnel is near. I can make it out, way in front of me. Every day brings me closer to the point where I will be functional again (at least for part of the day) and able to contribute to the family life that has been going on around me since November. The depression is bad, but it's an amazing thing...I can really feel God's grace surrounding me. It happened quite suddenly just after Christmas, like Jesus came along and lifted up a blanket that was smothering me, and I can breathe again.

The thing about an illness like this is that it's the same hope and encouragement you find in a tragedy like a school shooting or a famine. People want to help. They pull together and it brings out the best in humanity. They may not fully understand, but they still try; they still step forward and offer themselves. That's what I find so beautiful. What an expression of love for this baby to come into the world swaddled in the offerings of so many people, some of whom (like those at church who brought us meals) might never even meet the baby!

It is worth it. That's what I keep repeating to myself. It's all so worth it.

Cheap Waste

This attitude of “It’s cheap, let’s buy more!” is precisely what is fueling the fast fashion industry. By pumping out millions of new styles at lower prices every week, retailers have consumers hooked and coming back over and over again. But the drive down to the lowest price has had significant consequences: Not only has it almost annihilated the U.S. garment production and textile industry, but it has also weakened the quality of our clothing and increased the amount of waste. (One Salvation Army in Brooklyn amasses eighteen tons of unsellable clothing every three days!)

For more: Clueless About Fashion?

It's not just clothes. When I went to visit my aunt and uncle in Australia with my 9 month old son, they pulled out a box of toys their children had played with twenty years ago. My son reached for the sturdy wooden and metal toys -- faded and well-loved, but still usable -- and immediately began to pound them on the floor. Mostly they were classic toys, like this pull-toy giraffe. There was a doll house with wooden dolls and some furniture, assorted blocks, and a peg board with hammer. Toys that required imagination and encouraged creativity had lasted and still enchanted my son all those years later.

I am sorry to say that most of what my children play with is made of plastic. The reason? Cheap and Easy. Part of it is out of my hands; I made the decision a long time ago that I was not going to be the kind of sister or daughter-in-law that took away gifts I didn't approve of or dictated what my kids could receive. But I greatly admire those moms who do. My line in the sand revolves around food. I am totally THAT MOM when it comes to food.

I digress. The point is that our materialistic "buy cheap and throw it away a week later" consumer culture means that we are surrounded by tons of worthless goods. And then a holiday like Christmas comes, and we go out and buy more!

This year, I took away my daughter's birthday gifts because she refused to pick up after herself. She had opened two playsets, spilled the contents everywhere, and then threw a tantrum when I asked her to put it all away. So her birthday presents have been sitting in a bag in my bedroom for three months. (I should add that this was a week after I had taken away all her Barbies, Ponies, Baby dolls, stuffed animals, and tea set for the same reason.) Since she has no toys, she has been doing papercrafting, playing with her brother, and prancing around the house singing. I'll admit that much of my parenting strategy here stems from my Hyperemesis. I would probably be more proactive about teaching her to clean up after herself or going through her toys to donate/store those she's not interested in, but I am watching the world go by from a couch and am just not able to right now.

At any rate, she is not suffering from having nothing to play with. My whole issue with the kids and their refusal to clean up after themselves stems entirely from the fact that they have TOO MIUCH STUFF and what they have is cheap and too easily replacable. They do not value their possessions. Also, they have no concept of money, so the $250 American Girl doll gets tossed aside as easily as the $5 My Little Pony.

Internet friends: your suggestions please? I have tried many things, including rotating bins in the storeroom, taking away what doesn't get cleaned and requiring the kids to "earn" it back with a chore, donating bags of forgotten or outgrown toys, implementing a "one in, one out" policy, and creating a play space in the basement where all the kids toys are supposed to spend their time. All of these methods have failed or backfired, and I still have spoiled kids who whine for new toys while completely mistreating the things they have.

New Year, new leaf. I want to get a handle on the materialism and cheapness of our family culture. How do you teach your kids to respect and value their possessions?

Warning, bit of a rant coming up.

Okay, this is not how I usually do things, but in these circumstances I'm just going to paste part of an email I wrote to a friend because it's very much how I am feeling. I honestly don't have the time or energy to make it sound more understanding of those with different viewpoints, so please, if you are not Catholic or think that Catholic teaching is hooey, just don't bother reading, or if you choose to read and see yourself in these paragraphs, please don't take it personally that I have opinions about the choices you have made.

So. I'm pregnant. (SURPRISE!) Baby #4 has impeccable timing! Marital issues, emotional issues, financial strain, and an 18 month old who at the time of conception was still nursing three times a night. Needless to say, we have adjusted our lives dramatically and are hunkering down for the four months of misery that is my hyperemesis gravidarum. If anyone has prayers they're willing to give out, please send some my way.

We have had mixed reactions to the news of our unexpected blessing, ranging from the sublime (from my sister who said "God has His reasons, and I know that beauty and good are going to come from this") to the ridiculous (my husband is hesitant to tell his work about the situation because "It's not like you have cancer. I mean, people have ideas about pregnancy being preventable.")

I am not thrilled that I have to go through 16 weeks of torture as I throw up constantly and struggle to keep from being dehydrated and hospitalized. I am not looking forward to missing out on everything my kids do for the next four months, or going to bed at 7 pm every night, or having to watch holidays from afar while other people enjoy decorating, eating festive foods, and celebrating. I fully understand this is a lot to ask of our family, and I am humbly and exceptionally grateful for any help whatsoever.

But this does not change my commitment to NFP. Here is why:

It's such a fine line between faith and expecting things of God. I know that the Saints asked God for miracles and trusted that He would provide. And I know that what He may provide me is different than what I may expect. But I have felt this way with every pregnancy, the anger, the injustice of it, the confusion and "why me?" and disappointment. I don't know God's plan. His ways are mysterious to us. It doesn't matter anyway, I know that I'm supposed to soldier on. I still pray and still feel His comfort. I just wish I could have a miracle, you know? A real tangible sign of God's presence and power. Something that could turn Dan's very hardened heart and make him realize that there is more out there. Maybe that's not the way God wants to reveal Himself to Dan, though. I don't know.

The thing with rules is that they're not there for their own sake. The rules are meant to order our minds and priorities to what God values. They reveal something about what God wants and who God is. So when He says from the Mount: Thou shall not kill, He is revealing how much He values human life. Now, secular culture says that babies and pregnancy are burdens that should only be undertaken when the circumstances are perfect. God says that life is a gift and it needs to be embraced and welcomed in any circumstance. I have friends who follow the contraception mentality, and they have one child, or two children, because "It's too hard" or "I need my sleep" or "It will affect my career to take time off" or "We can't afford another one" which is such a lie in this country of prosperity. One friend won't speak to me anymore because she is so hurt by the fact that she is infertile after waiting so long to try again for a second child, whereas I get pregnant without trying. I think about how much joy a child brings into the lives of the family, and it hurts my heart to know how many babies are aborted or contracepted against for the sake of convenience. I have read in magazines stories about women who refuse to have another child, even though their husbands desperately want more children, because they don't want to sacrifice their careers or because they don't like having to get up in the middle of the night to feed a baby. Like, seriously? One or two years of discomfort to provide your son or daughter with a sibling, and to fulfill your husband's heart's desire, and you're unwilling to do that? Not to mention that one article said the husband would do the night feedings, and she still refused because "he shouldn't have to do something I find so distasteful!" Talk about improper priorities and closed-mindedness. 

The Church's teachings are there to help us understand God's truth. They are not based on nothing, but rather on thousands of years of divine revelation. They are true for all times, places, and people. Yes, they're meant to work with your conscience and your particular situation. When I talked with my Pastor about contraception he said that there could be an argument for someone in my position to use a barrier method for various reasons (married to an unbeliever, long periods of abstinence required, grave danger/distruption with a pregnancy.) But the point is, getting a vasectomy is closing a door and saying "I place the secular values of sex without consequences and material prosperity above the joy and privilege of bringing new life into the world." 

It's a slippery slope. We can see the evidence in the culture around us. What is the outcome of the contraception mentality? Anti-family, anti-mothering attitudes that view staying home to care for your children as a little death and a waste of your time and education. Abortion, because no one should have to bear a child unless they want it and it's in perfect circumstances. Devaluing of those who DO make the sacrifice to bear a child (like Dan's firm thinking cancer was an acceptable reason to help out a family but pregnancy is not.) Disavowing of responsibility to help mothers and children, because it's solely a woman's CHOICE, and why should a man have to care for a child he helped conceive when she is the one who chose to bear it? Or what about the rise in surrogacy and IVF because having a child is a RIGHT not a privilege and by gosh, it's perfectly acceptable to abort six fetuses to carry one child to term or to use some poor woman in India for her uterus in order to satisfy our American attitude of What I Want When I Want It! Pope Pius XI warned against all this, and predicted exactly the attitudes and issues that our culture is facing right now when he wrote his encyclical against contraception in 1960 and he was dismissed as an old fart with no understanding of the needs of a modern woman. I understand that it's difficult to be infertile, and to long for a child without being able to conceive. It's difficult to get pregnant unexpectedly and have your whole life change! But sometimes suffering makes us better people because it requires us to value something above ourselves and our plans! Our society has lost the sense of sacrifice as a virtue. Now sacrifice is unnecessary, it's a problem. If you're making a sacrifice it's not valued! It's considered irresponsible, particularly if your sacrifice requires other people to make sacrifices too. Jesus gave His life for us. I think I can give 9 months of nausea for this precious new life. This burden is temporary. When you weigh it against a whole person's life, it's worth it. 

As I've said before, I would have a serious conversation with Dan about getting a vasectomy if it's something that he needs and if it will make the difference between a good marriage and a divorce. It would be a sacrifice I would make for our marriage, because his well-being is very important to me, and I believe there is space to make decisions based on circumstance. But it is going against my beliefs and my values, not just because the Church speaks against it, but because I truly believe that God wants married couples to be open to life. 

I believe it should be HARD to be a good Catholic. If it's easy, then we're not doing it right. The Christian message challenges us in every way to be counter cultural and a light on a hill. My conscience wants to follow Church teaching because I am in clear understanding that the teaching is for my spiritual good. I still struggle. We are all human and it's true: our souls are in our own hands and not the responsibility of anyone else.

I remember talking with my spiritual director once after Maizie was born about how scared I was to trust God with NFP before my cycle returned to normal. He said, "Well, you're doing the right thing by following God, and I think He will reward you for it." I said, "Yes, Father, but what if He rewards me with a baby?" I feel that's what God has done. He has forced us into baby #4 because we weren't going to go there on our own. I would have preferred more time in between, but people have babies closer together than this and Maizie is going to be fine. Just because it's not ideal doesn't mean it's not a blessing. How does that poem go? Whatever comes, Praise God. For good or ill, Praise God. In sickness and health, Praise God. Or something like that.

Freedom and Suffering

I think I am drawing closer to acceptance. I was reflecting today on what it means to be free. For if God has given us our freedom, it means we are responsible for our choices. We are not puppets, moved about by an omnipotent God, chess pieces on the board of the universe. We are free, autonomous creatures, who can only do good through obedience to His way.

So it's wrong for me to expect that God will do anything to change this situation. He can't perform miracles in the absence of faith, because to do so would be going against the will of the individual person. God created us with a will, and He honors that will. Someone who does not want to be healed will not be healed. Someone who does not want to be changed will not be changed.

God has provided me with everything I need, including sisters in Christ (both online and in real life) to give me with strength, example, advice, and support. He has given me Himself, ever present in the Holy Eucharist, and a Church family that is among the best in the country, if not the world. He has given me wealth and other resources that I can use to educate myself and purchase assistance (babysitters, parenting courses, occasional massages) to make it through this rough patch. And He has given me faith, which puts me far ahead of others suffering this kind of challenge.

With the freedom we are given, we can choose to be petty and inflict pain on others, to stand by and watch as they suffer, or to turn away and ignore their plight. But God does not want us to make those choices. He wants us to use our freedom to willingly forgive others the debts they owe us, to reach out to those who are suffering and hep them, to stand with those who are vulnerable and weak.

It's often not easy to choose good. We fall away so easily and have to expend great effort to climb back up to where we want to be. That is where God helps us: on the path to goodness. That is His promise, that He will not forsake us.

"...since my mother bore me you have been my God. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help." Ps 22:10-11

But even if you suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed. 1 Peter 3:14

Kindle Reviews: The Weird Sisters, North and South, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

The Weird Sisters, by Eleanor Brown
This New York Times bestseller deals with the lives of three sisters, Rose, Bianca, and Cordelia, whose father is a Shakespeare nut and professor of English literature at a small, private college in the Northeast. Having grown up in a college town, all three sisters have a love-hate relationship with it that forms one of the themes of the book. Whether they are trying to run from their past, find their way home, or spread their wings and leave the nest, each sister has to deal directly with her personal demons in the face of their mother's illness and their own changing lives. I have a sister, so it's always fascinating to me to read books about family dynamics and see what similarities and differences there are in the ways other people form the bonds of sisterhood and daughterhood. If I had any criticism of this book, it's that the stereotypes are too broadly drawn and simplistic. The "homebody" is a bossy goody two-shoes intent on perfectionism, the "gypsy" has no roots, no standards, and no future, while the "rebel" lies, cheats, sleeps around and feels empty inside. Yet each character achieves growth over the course of the novel, and the ending leaves them in a place that makes sense for who they are. A good read, well written, nothing earth-shattering.

North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell
I came to this book by way of the BBC miniseries starting Richard Armitage. I loved the social commentary, the feminist protagonist who manages to still be feminine, and of course, the romance at the heart of the story. When I realized it was based off a novel, I sought it out and found it for free on Amazon Kindle Classics. In fact, the complete works of Elizabeth Gaskell are available for $2. As is always the case, I read the book with the movie in mind, hoping that I wouldn't be disappointed or upset by the differences. Happily, the book is exactly as I hoped it would be. It expands greatly on the tough social issues of unions, a living wage, relations between master and worker, and the role of charity and ethics in business. The book's main conflict is between the workers in Millton and the mill owners, among them the self-made John Thornton. Margaret Hale, a pastor's daughter from the south, comes to live in Milton and is greatly affected by the tensions of the city. As an concerned outsider, she moves easily between classes and is able to have a positive effect on the opinions and sensibilities of both. If anything, the book made me more appreciative of the BBC adaptation. While the book is excellent, it lacks the sense of immediacy and passion that are so evident in the film, while the film, naturally, lacks the depth of the book. I can happily recommend both for their individual merits, without concern that one would detract from or destroy the joys of either experience. Highest recommendation. Supersedes even Austen.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot
In 1951, an African-American woman named Henrietta Lacks lay dying of advanced cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. At that same hospital, a scientist named George Gey had been trying, without success, to grow a line of human cells for use in medical research. When Gey attempts a sample of Lacks' tissues, they begin to grow and, against all expectations, they continue growing. Known as HeLa, the cell line is still dividing and reproducing to this day, and has made possible the entire field of cellular research. Scientists using HeLa have tested vaccines for polio, made advancements in their understanding of various forms of cancer and viruses, begun the mapping of the human genome, and developed treatments for many diseases that were considered impossible to cure. Yet this story is much more than science labs, test tubes, microscopes, and mitosis. It is the story of Henrietta Lacks and her family, who were completely unaware of their mother's contribution to science until twenty five years after her death, and who hold a mixed and complicated relationship with the cell line that is her legacy. By turns triumphant and tragic, the story of Henrietta Lacks and her cells is fascinating, inspiring, and troubling. I hope it is the sort of book that becomes required reading in every high school ethics class, for it is a perfect case study of modern medical ethics and the advances made possible by technology.