Dear Reader,
Let me start this week’s newsletter with an email from a reader about last week’s write-up on people and the phenomenon that is the Fair. I appreciated her sharing.
“Thank you for your discourse on the Fair. I grew up showing my 4-H cattle at the Puyallup Fair in Washington State, one of the 10 biggest fairs in the U.S., and it meant I got to get out of school for more than a week! I was born in Puyallup and lived close so it was the highlight of my year. My winning cattle paid some of my college expenses.
Your comments about how Fair people are us hits close to home—what other venue is good, clean family fun, allows you to see and experience everything from beautiful quilts, photography, bucking horses, blue ribbon cattle, information about how to live off the grid, and eating to-die-for food? And it goes on for days! I did this for 8 years—the wrenching, sad last day event of selling my cattle for slaughter at the Fair, after a year of loving, caring for and feeding to sale perfection—one of the things Fairs are for!”
Indeed, livestock was a big part of Fair life for me. Apart from my first pig (a sow named Queenie, which I was too young to show), I later chose not to name my hogs because I knew I would get too attached. Perhaps the closest I came was naming by number, in particular #51, #54, and #55 - a gilt, a boar, and a barrow, all from the same litter and all champions in their breed (Hampshire), with #55 taking grand champion over all breeds at multiple fairs. He was the only one I ever took to the Illinois State Fair (he didn’t win, but came close), as well as the hardest to say goodbye to when the truck pulled in and we loaded him up.
As my reader expressed, I, too, appreciate the opportunity to relive my Fair experiences each year. If you haven’t made one yet this summer, I hope you can - the livestock shows especially. Watch for the connection between the kids and their animals, and don’t be surprised when a young boy coming of age cries his eyes out while saying goodbye to one of his best friends.
As always, thanks for reading.
Craig
Feature: “Lost in the Air”
Due to the fire and smoke, it’s been the better part of a month since I’ve seen a true blue Montana big sky. The mountains, too, have been incognito - hidden behind a grey curtain of acrid air that has blotted out the sun and the moon, the light and the dark.
While Montanans unfortunately anticipate these conditions at the end of July due to forest fires further west, they’re never not unsettling, especially since they so easily hide the normal and natural beauty and bounty of the Gallatin Valley. Couple this with atypical warm temperatures we’ve had (especially in June) and too typical drought conditions of the arid West, and summer has felt heavy at times.
Maybe some of this complicated my initial response to the news that American Olympian Simone Biles withdrew from the women’s gymnastics competitions earlier this week. Much has been written and discussed on the matter - much poorly, some thoughtfully - and for some reason, I’ve found myself compelled to participate probably more than is good for me or anyone else who is not Simone Biles to do.
But as I’ve read, wrestled, and written in an attempt to better understand, it’s clear to me now that my agitation concerning her stepping down in the Olympics has less to do with Simone Biles and more to do with my heart and own “mental health” (an unfortunate catch-all that has not been helpful to the discussion).
Before you roll your eyes at my segue from smoke to Simone, hear me out as to how I, too, got “lost in the air” and am trying to find my footing.
Competing Without…Competing?
On Tuesday, I posted the following with this Associated Press article on Facebook:
“This is not going to be a popular take, but I'm dumbfounded by Simone Biles pulling out of the team gymnastics competition, as well as the ‘poor baby’ allowance from so many in response to her decision to ‘protect team, self.’
Lots of ‘greatest’ athletes have dealt with and deal with pressure. Michael Jordan, Tom Brady - can you imagine if either gave a similar excuse? Why does Biles get a pass? I'm not trying to pile on, but this seems weak sauce and tarnishes her legacy as a competitor. I'm glad Kerri Strug didn't take a page from her playbook in 1996.”
Despite my trigger warning at the beginning, as you might imagine, the post blew up - initially with comments from those who mostly agreed; later with comments from those who mostly didn’t. The two-day discussion mimicked much of the back-and-forth of what was going on in articles, editorials, and social media posts across the Internet, and by Wednesday’s end, I was pretty wiped from trying to keep up.
I’ll grant that some of the language of my initial post could have been more charitable (“poor baby” and “weak sauce” were harsh). Honestly, though, it was my first attempt at trying to make sense of how “self-care” language (which I loathe in principle and here in application) had any place in the Olympics compared to the once-former values of team-first, risk, and sacrifice in pursuit of honor and glory.
This piece on Wednesday more eloquently captured my confusion:
“One of the world’s top athletes revised the language of greatness, positioning it as something to be tended to and mindfully maintained, not drawn on ad nauseam. Her most telling words rejected the false dichotomy between personal well-being and professional excellence, instead pointing to the former as a precondition of the latter. Biles has spoken in the run-up to the Olympics about the pressures of fame, the isolation of these particular Games, and her experiences in therapy. Yesterday, Biles said she felt ‘lost in the air.’ ‘I tried to go out here and have fun … but once I came out here I was like, ‘No, mental’s not there.’”
“Lost in the air,” she said.
“Me, too,” I thought, but not even so much due to her decision, but because of this:
“The response to Biles’s candor has been mostly laudatory, an indicator of the waning hold of sports’ win-at-all-costs ethos…Biles has now proposed an alternative doctrine. ‘It’s okay sometimes to even sit out the big competitions, to focus on yourself,’ she said. ‘It shows how strong of a competitor and person you really are, rather than just battle through it.’”
“But this is the Olympics!?” I heard myself say. How does sitting out of this biggest of competitions to (checks notes) “focus on yourself” make you a…competitor? There’s no question that, up to that point Biles had been, but what changed, and (more confusingly) why the cause for universal celebration? It did not make sense.
Still, okay, sit out if you must, but not after completing your first event in which you scored lower than hoped and determined you felt “off,” nor after announcing to your team your intentions rather than leaning on them for what you needed to contribute. Someone made the comment online that, “We shouldn’t expect perfection from our Olympic heroes.” I agree, but I didn’t think it was too much to expect participation.
“GOAT” & “Head Star”
As alluded above, I know enough about Biles to respect her and the journey she has walked. I’m aware of how she grew up in and out of the foster care system (a system I’m well familiar with, our family having fostered 14 kids, ages 5 and under). I grieve at the fact that she and so many other young women endured the sexual harassment of gymnastics team doctor Larry Nassar, as well as that, six years to the day that Biles was to compete this week, the USGA withheld evidence that Nassar was a molester.
“On July 27, 2015, Biles was an 18-year-old world champion who arrived at USAG headquarters in Indianapolis for a series of appearances to promote one of their events. For two days, Biles signed autographs and did other favors to please USAG officials. (USAG Steve) Penny personally drove Biles and her mother to some of the functions and had extended conversations with her, according to John Manly, an attorney for Biles and other victims. Biles even appeared at a birthday party for Penny’s daughter. You know what Penny failed to mention over those two days? In fact, failed to breathe so much as a word of, much less warn her of? The fact that he had credible evidence Nassar was a molester.”
I know Biles elevated gymnastics (literally) to new heights, so much so that she was unequivocally billed as the “GOAT” - the Greatest of All Time - gymnast in the history of the sport. As Yogi Berra once said, “It ain’t braggin’ if you can do it,” and Biles could, even creating four signature moves that no one but her could do.
That said, it seemed to me there was a difference in the way Biles handled the “GOAT” thing, wearing it physically - she had it embroidered on her gymnastics apparel - and not shying away from the moniker as others in other sports often did. Maybe embracing the title full on was her way of dealing with it, but it had to add to the self-inflicted pressure, which, of course, is the worst kind of pressure there is.
Thus, on the heels of her announcement, and in considering some of her statements (her self-proclaimed "head star" description below, for example), I wondered if Biles just got too wrapped up in herself, had the bad vault, and caught a glimpse of her vulnerability, which scared her? This is totally plausible, as well as understandable.
But - and here’s what I just couldn’t wrap my head around - instead of leaning into that fear and rallying with her teammates to get her head back where it needed to be as an Olympian, she removed herself from the competition, forcing her teammates to deal with the implications of her decision and go it without her. If you listen to their comments in the post-competition interviews (I saw it but couldn’t find the link), they were quite surprised and taken aback by her last-minute decision (though in true Olympic spirit - if not irony - they stepped up and pulled off winning silver medals).
Having played and coached team sports, Biles’ unilateral decision to sit didn’t sit well with me or help my perspective in wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt for pulling out. I recognize the sport of gymnastics for what it is - challenging and potentially dangerous - and I’m sympathetic to the mental game that her level of sport requires. But I’d never seen a “head star” athlete willingly take himself or herself out of a championship opportunity the way that Biles did. It just did not compute.
In the face of danger, Olympic and professional athletes face comparable risks (skiers and ski jumpers, among others, come to mind, as does “GOAT” quarterback Tom Brady having to avoid getting maimed or killed by 300-pound men looking to pile drive him on every play 18 Sundays out of the year). But that’s why they trained. Biles had done the same thing in her sport, which is why her withdrawal seemed so strange.
As with any athlete I’ve ever cheered for, I wanted her to do well and live up to the hype - media-created and/or self-perpetuated - bringing closure to an amazing career in American Olympic history and leading the team to gold, modeling unity with her teammates and claiming victory on behalf of her nation on a world stage. This, I’d always thought, was what the Olympic spirit and games were about (or at least had been - the IOC has been corrupt for decades). If Simone and company could come through, what redemption (or was it vengeance…or both?) would be wrought upon the IOC, the USGA, Larry Nassar, our broken foster care system, evil in general, et. al.?
What an Olympic story! What a life legacy! What an opportunity only a few get!
But it - or at least my version of “it” - was not for the books. Whether or not to compete was Biles’ decision to make and she made it, pulling out of the team competition. To her credit, she chose to be consistent in her convictions by not participating in the individual competitions yesterday, and in the feel-good story of the week, American gymnast and teammate Suni Lee took gold, something she probably never thought she would see on an individual level behind Biles.
It will be interesting to see how Biles’ decision ages - not only for herself, but for the sport of gymnastics (as well as for the Olympics themselves) - five, ten, even twenty years from now. Kerri Strug, a gold medalist from 1996 who some have too simply tried to represent as a victim of physical abuse made to compete while injured - seems to have few regrets with her decision (or at least she did five years ago in this interview; perhaps her story has evolved in light of all that has gone on with the USAG). Either way, her determination then as well as her words now 25 years later are still inspiring.
It’s Not Her, It’s Me…and Maybe You?
In the intro to my post, I wrote:
“…my agitation concerning her stepping down in the Olympics has less to do with Simone Biles and more to do with my heart and ‘mental health…’”
Having shared some of my head, let me try to pry open some of my heart. But before I do, let me clarify from where my agitation does not in any uncertain terms come.
First off (and with apologies to any Critical Race Theorists in my audience), my perspective has nothing to do with race. This article - in particular this paragraph - is unbelievable in its assertions and I reject them wholeheartedly:
“Some people—conservative men in particular—simply cannot bear to see a woman of color making her own choices about what’s best for her…Efforts to paint Biles as a mentally fragile quitter play into conservatives’ frequent insinuations that Black Americans are not as patriotic as they are—despite the long history of Black people representing, performing for, and fighting for this country without the benefit of full equality.”
Second, this has nothing to do with winning. Rachael Denhollander, in a Facebook post yesterday, wrote,
“If all you see is the color of the medal, you're part of the problem.”
I agree, and all I can ask of you is to take my word that I’m not guilty of it. If I watch the Olympics (and that’s a big “if” due to the way it’s so politicized), I don’t follow medal counts, nor do I give a rip whether Team USA wins (though I don’t mind when they do). Ceremony spectacle and performances aside, if someone wants to keep track of “who’s winning,” fine, but it won’t be me. I’m in it for the transcendence.
No, where I’ve been “lost in the air” this week has been trying to understand and come to grips with just how out of touch I must be and seem to the world around me. Having turned 50 earlier this year, I’ve written some about this here and here, but I’ve not felt as old and irrelevant to the culture - especially the younger Christian culture - as I have this week. We’re on the same planet, but it’s like a different world.
It’s not a mid-life crisis; it’s more of a mid-life curiosity: there are now multiple generations behind mine, and their values - even those of whom call themselves Christians - surprise me as being different from my own as to, for lack of a better word (though it’s a pretty good word), “shalom” - or, “the way things are supposed to be.”
As an example, I wonder how differently we read Paul’s writing in 1 Corinthians 9:
24 “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 25 Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. 26 Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. 27 No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”
As I read it, Paul here dismantles the concept of participation trophies; he doesn’t give any other option but to run, and then to do so at the highest level (vs. 24). He gives value to physical competition, affirming the “strict training” it requires even as he is speaking of spiritual reward (vs. 25). He does not suffer easily those who would dink around in their attempts (vs. 26), and he seems to have very little concern for “self-care” or his freedom to choose apart from his calling, lest he prove himself unworthy of the prize he is trying to win (vs 27).
Now, don’t hear what I’m not saying: I’m not saying that Paul words in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 were written to specifically address the Olympics or Simone Biles. But I am saying that Paul is addressing Christians of both his time and ours, and there are at least three generations of late whose interpretation of this and many other passages of Scripture would seem to vary so much in its meaning and authority that I’m having a hard time recognizing what I thought I knew as the Christian ethic these days.
For instance, Christian Instagram is filled with more calls to self-care psychology than to actual sacrificial living. Parenting advice for disciplining and discipling our kids has become so watered down that it is producing a generation that has never been told “no”; as a result, if they don’t want to or feel like doing something, they won’t.
Maybe I’m just feeling the responsibility of my ever-increasing amount of gray hair, but the older I get, the more I want to do for the generations behind mine, which is how I probably get myself in trouble taking unpopular stands and saying unpopular things even as I wrestle with my insecurity in doing so. Psalm 145:4 says,
“One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts.”
I want to be part of that chain, but right now it feels that this means making sure it is still somehow attached to the anchor of truth, constructed by virtue, and maintained by sacrifice rather than a narrative of vague self-care. Let me say how glad I am that Jesus died to Himself (as He calls us to do) and didn’t practice self-care on the cross.
This is where I’ve been “lost in the air” this week, and why Simone Biles’ decision to pull out, the culture’s immediate and euphoric celebration of it, and the rationalization of several fellow (and angry) Christians directed toward a few of us raising questions about the wisdom of “self-care” becoming the new “sacrifice” engaged me so.
I’m not sure where to go with any of this other than to confess it, pray about it, and trust God with it. Frankly, I’m weary of writing, talking, and thinking about it, but if someone wants to engage in the comments below or directly, I’ll give it my best shot (though I’d really rather forego having to argue about something if I can help it).
Regardless, and only by His grace, I hope to never be disqualified from the race, and I hope that we - you and I - can run it together in such a way as to get the prize.
And I hope the same - with love and without judgment - for Simone, too. May God bless her, keep her, and lead her ever-closer to Himself as she works things through.
Fresh & Random Linkage
Welcome to the World Regret Survey - Tired of your regrets? Submit them here. And while you’re there, why not read some from others. Great for self-care!
New Ghostbusters Movie - This actually looks pretty good.
Until next time.
Why Subscribe?
Why not? Second Drafts is a once-a-week newsletter delivered to your inbox (you can also read it online or through your RSS reader) and it’s totally free.
Keep Connected
You’re welcome to follow me on Twitter.