memories from my freshman year and a book give-away

There are a few poignant things I remember from my freshman year at Boston University.

I remember my Art History class.  Being submerged in the darkness of the auditorium while watching slide after slide of the history of art.  I was enthralled.  I drank it all in...the medieval times two-dimentionality to the Impressionists to the Realists who pulled my heart into their work.  We were assigned to write long papers on individual pieces of art at the Boston Museum of Fine Art.  I sat for hours pouring over those paintings, dissecting each brushstroke and expression as the museum became like home to me.

I remember the church building I attended each Sunday where Clayton Christensen, tall and wise, was my Bishop.  Students from Harvard, Tufts, and MIT to name a few all mulled together in a ward where the intellectual conversation was often over my head, but the spirit filled up each room with love.

I remember Elie Wiesel, the author of "Night" came as a guest speaker to one of my classes one day, and how his gruff voice led us into snippets of inhumanity that was the Holocaust.

I remember reading the BYU "rules" aloud to my roommates and some "extra" boys who happened to be around, their jaws dropping on the floor in confusion that I would want to go to a school so strict and tight-laced after this free-roaming one.

I remember Red Sox games and riding the clickety-clackety "T" to my dorm room close-by.  And my roommate who collected all kinds of penguins.

All those velvety memories were spurred on this week as I have been reading over different portions of my parents' new book, The Turning.  The thing that brought all that Boston University hoopla to mind is that in their book my parents quote Alexis de Tocqueville.  We studied his book "Democracy in America" in one of my B.U. classes, and we studied it well.

I figured back at the time that that book was unique and obscure: something my teacher just happened to love.  But, like most things of any importance, once it plants itself into your frame of reference you hear it mentioned over and over and over again.  Over the years my ears have perked up as it's been referred to time and time again in myriads of different conversations.

That French man was wise.

"If America is ever destroyed, it will be destroyed from within," he almost prophesies.  

My parents take that to heart, and believe that although where we live is an exceptional place, the gradual and escalating break-down of family is the seed that could cause a great deal of destruction.

They also quote the sage warning in Malachi:
Here's a quote from the book:

"The warning of this book is simple and frightening but by no means new:  America's most basic institution, the family, is breaking down.  This breakdown is the direct cause of steep increases in social problems: crime, violence, gangs, teen pregnancy, drugs, poverty"....and pretty much every other "curse" you can name.

My Dad goes so far as to say this:

"This world's current generations--our generations--parents and grandparents who are now raising children, running companies, creating media, making laws, teaching, writing, voting, consuming--essentially the adults of this current world--may be this worlds' last chance.  If we continue to ignore (or accept temporary solutions for) the symptoms, and if we fail to understand or combat the cause, the world we have known will not exist for our children.  But if we recognize and restore priorities of families and values, we can rescue our own happiness, even as we turn aside the forces that would destroy our childrens' future.

Dave and I have had quite a few conversations about this book.  The first part brings out all kinds of scary statistics and worries about the gradual breakdown of families.   A summary with lots of statistics is HERE

And then there is a whole "book within a book" with all the boiled-down best practices my parents have come up with over the years to create strong families.

But what I like to think about most, or really, what worries me the most, is the question: what do we, as families who care about the continuation of strong families, do to stay strong and to stand up and protect what we have?  How do we help families who need to be fortified?  How can we seek harder for solutions?  I want so much to help families because I believe whole-heartedly in their divinity.

We need families!  I believe that with all my heart (HEREHERE, and a whole slew of other places I can't find right now).  I know there are so many out there who come from dysfunctional ones.  Heart-breaking ones.  Troubled ones (hence the worry my parents have that they are gradually becoming more and more that way).   I believe we need to stand up for the good ones and not take them for granted.  We need to find ways to make them stronger and support the ones who need help.

So I'm excited because I get to give away TEN copies of this new book scheduled to be released in September.  I'm excited I get to spread the conversation.

How important is the family to you?

Do you believe, like my parents and I do, that the family can be the unifying force to hold our systems together or is that a bunch of hogwash?

Is our country, as Tocqueville prophesied all those years ago, really being destroyed from within?

If so, what can we do about it?

How can we fight to keep families strong?

I'd love to keep this conversation going.  So leave a comment for a chance to win your own copy to start up conversations with those you love.  Check out the facts and figures on the new website HERE and come back to leave a comment about what you think for another chance to win.

I will select ten book winners on Friday.   Since the book won't be released until September, my parents will send the winners a portion of the book in email format and then the real-deal as soon as it's released.

In the meantime, I will go study more Tocqueville and be even more grateful that that dear family of mine encouraged me to spread my wings and go to Boston University all those years ago.  Little did any of us know how deeply it would work into my heart.