Today’s Walk

Through My World and My Mind

When a Fault Maybe Isn’t

Posted on: January 24th, 2019

By Jennifer Bryon Owen

“Jennifer reads too many library books” wasn’t the only comment my elementary school teachers regularly wrote on my report cards. The other was “Jennifer talks too much.”

I absorbed these comments as failures. But, through the intervening years when these comments resurfaced, I gradually decided what they wrote was not what they meant. One can never read too many library books since reading itself teaches us. Surely, they meant I should give homework more attention.

I’ve also changed my interpretation of “talking too much.” Probably they meant I talked when I should have listened. That’s probably still true. But, I’ve decided talking is a personality trait, not a failure.

This understanding came long after the little girl became an adult, and it came from another teacher. When my father died, a professor from my first year in college commented on my propensity to speak up, to challenge thought in class. He said it told him I had been raised in a family that allowed discussion, allowed me to speak even when it disagreed with them. And he saw that as a good thing. What a gift! (I’m sure he understood back then the vast enlightenment 18-year-olds possessed! He also understood sharing this enlightenment was a way for me to grow.)

I began considering that “talking too much” could be okay, even useful, perhaps. I have friends and family who are not open about their lives. That’s okay for them. They have a right to be who they are. But I have embraced the belief that I can be myself, and part of that is being open about my life.

There’s a downside. I joke that sometimes I say things that never go through my brain on their way out my mouth. I’m afraid I may–and do–inadvertently hurt someone if I’m careless. I am trying to always think before I speak.

Given all this, I still had to think through how much I wanted to talk about my recent diagnosis of Stage 1 breast cancer. It was caught early, the outlook is positive and I am well aware of how very fortunate I am. Others have been affected so much more than I. So, no real drama here other than it is the Big C.

I decided to talk.

Every woman I meet may hate me because I am going to ask if she’s had her yearly mammogram. So far my early and informal statistics reveal about a half dozen women have reported they’ve gotten a mammogram because I asked. Several others have acknowledged they need to get one.

Most recently, a young mother stopped by my house, helping her daughter with a door-to-door project. We chatted as we stood on the porch, and I asked her.

She hesitated and then said, “I think I was supposed to be here today. I got my reminder letter six months ago and set it aside. I’m calling for an appointment Monday.”

I rest my case.

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