Coming of Conscience Scholarship Recipient Announced

Isabel Odom-Flores & Rita Dragonette

As I wrote back in February’s blog post, the Coming of Conscience Scholarship that was created in the spirit of the journey of the main character, Judy Talton, in my novel The Fourteenth of September had attracted a record-breaking 200+ applicants. The scholarship was open to all students (undergrad and graduate) at Northern Illinois University (NIU), the real-life model for the fictional university in the novel. It was designed to encourage meaningful activism and bold personal responsibility. Applicants were asked to write an essay to describe their understanding of Coming of Conscience, to share an example of a Coming of Conscience moment of their own, if possible, and, above all, to indicate their plan for how they will use their degree to help change the world. Essays were evaluated by a faculty committee established by the NIU Foundation, who chose the final recipient.

I’m very pleased to share with you that the scholarship has been awarded to nineteen-year-old sophomore Isabel Odom-Flores, a Communication Disorders major, in the College of Health and Human Services.  

A Generation Committed to Giving Others a Voice

"Coming of Conscience is as simple as 'doing the right thing' and as difficult as realizing 'your whole life depends upon it'"

— Scholarship Applicant

Isabel’s essay was one of so many who told the stories of lives changed by brushes with injustice, tragedy, and violence as well as the day-to-day courage it takes to live a life of integrity. If anyone is worried about how committed the allegedly self-absorbed younger generation is to making a difference in the lives of others, these stories will disavow any concerns. Students wrote, not surprisingly, about bullying of all kinds, cheating, sexism, and drugs, but also about abuse, gun violence, difficulties with trusting the police, and overcoming restrictive cultural norms in first-generation immigrant households. In the main, applicants had faced situations that inspired them to train for careers in law, political science, and advocacy to help address what they feel strongly are injustices and issues that must be overturned. A second majority of those are going into medical school or nursing and teaching to help those who need assistance. The commitment to using the personal fear and rage of what they went through to help others is universal.

Many are unexpected: A young woman who still had to fight to convince her parents to let her go to college. Another who became a nutrition major after the death of a young, obese cousin because of the unhealthy diet of a culture. A Christian aspiring actor and singer who turned down a major role in a play because of skimpy dress, who is now a dance major dedicated to art with modesty. Each is a story of integrity trumping consequences. Some have learned the hard way.

As one student put it. “Do I regret the choice I made that hurt others and eroded their trust and confidence in me? Most definitely. Do I regret the lesson I learned and carry with me each day? Never.”

Isabel’s Coming of Conscience

With Judy Ledgerwood, Acting Dean, College of Liberal Arts and Sciences & Ray Earl-Jackson, Director of Advancement, College of Liberal Arts and Sciences

Coincidentally, as Isabel and I discovered when we met recently, she and the fictional Judy Talton share a struggle to be able to afford to go to college, the life-line of a scholarship that could make all the difference in their futures, and issues of integrity that could cause them to give it up. She’s agreed to allow me to share her story in this post. Read full essay here.

In her essay, Isabel Odom-Flores recounted a painful yet instructive moment of Coming of Conscience. She always knew that college was going to be hard to pay for and was “going to take any help I could get.” As a gifted softball player, her answer came through athletics when she was offered a scholarship to play on a new team at her community college, joining other girls who were excited to play the sport they loved as well as pay for the education they sought.

It soon became obvious the promised funds were to come “later,” according to their coach, and in exchange for serious ongoing harassment. After a year of this, Isabel was faced with a dilemma, turn the coach in and give up her scholarship, putting her future and that of the other team members at risk, or, as her teammates urged, just put up with it for the vital scholarship money—a #METOO moment at the tender age of eighteen.

“I was signed to be on full scholarship for the next school year. I was promised sophomore team captain and a starting position. I had worked hard the last ten years to become a leading student-athlete in college. I knew all of that was at jeopardy if my coach were to lose his job.” But she realized that someone had to put a stop to this. “Harassment in the workplace is wrong. Harassment in schools is wrong. Harassment everywhere is wrong.”

She tried to turn the coach in twice—once as a single, complaining voice that wasn’t believed—and mustered amazing courage to try again, finally and successfully, by convincing the team to join her in a collective complaint. The coach was let go, the integrity of the softball program restored… but the team members each lost their scholarship money. Isabel had already used the money her parents had saved for her education and was struggling to apply for burdensome student loans.

At the same time, the payoff in integrity was character-forming. Isabel now knows her mind, and has found what she calls her “firm voice” and plans to use it. Her plan for her Coming of Conscience scholarship money is to ultimately obtain a master’s in speech-language pathology to help others, literally and philosophically to have a voice.

“I will advocate in my workplace for anyone who is experiencing harassment anywhere. Spreading knowledge on what qualifies as harassment and what does not. Spreading knowledge on how to file a harassment claim under the equal employment opportunity commission. Spreading knowledge will break down the barrier that separates people from staying quiet to finding their voice.”

“I have grown to have a firm voice and use it when there is an injustice. I especially feel compelled to advocate for other women. Equality and harassment in the workplace or anywhere must be taken seriously. I will never again turn a blind eye in any setting.” 

I’m particularly glad to learn that the Coming of Conscience scholarship will more than compensate for the scholarship funds Isabel lost through her decision of valor—a contribution to the voice she will never again question.

A Coming of Conscience Journey

What a surprise, Ruth Sender, Isabel's grandmother met me at the Wheaton Author's Fest to thank me for funding the scholarship.

I had a bit of a push-back on using A Coming of Conscience as the tagline for my novel. But I was convinced that Judy’s story, a metaphor for what the country was going through during the Vietnam years, was beyond a typical Coming of Age. The latter follows a young person on their journey through complications from which they emerge ready and resilient enough to face the world as an adult. Judy goes through this as well. However, her journey is deeper: the issues she weighs are beyond her maturity and experience and will define her character for the rest of her life. Coming of Conscience works better. As Isabel and the other applicants’ essays illustrate—this is a complex world of diversity, 24-hour news, and social media that amplifies everything, where character is being formed at an increasingly younger age. We watch world figures hashing out issues of integrity every day on the news. Children are listening… but as these applicants demonstrate… they are also learning.

We Can STILL Change the World

My intention for the scholarship was to allow young people to take pride in the hard decisions they’ve had to make and use them to become bold and active, never settling for something that they can impact. The world will always need changing for the better. I’m ever so much more confident after reading these stories. I’ll be sharing excerpts with you in future posts.

These brave young people are on the front lines of the future, as we have been. I couldn’t be more proud and confident that history doesn’t have to be a hamster wheel and we won’t need to keep starting over.

Coming of Conscience: A character-defining personal decision or action where integrity trumps consequences.

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Women’s History Month: A Matter of Standing

Standing: status, rank, position, station, level, footing, reputation, estimation, stature, eminence, prominence, prestige, esteem, illustriousness, importance, consequence, influence, distinction, noteworthiness, validity, sway, clout

The women of new congress

Women’s History Month isn’t an anniversary I typically celebrate or to which I pay much attention. Early in my career, in fact, like so many of us, I worked hard not to differentiate. Making an issue of being a woman in the workplace seemed to underline the very differences I was trying to equate. However, as I type this, I admit to feeling ashamed of myself and that—though I’m dying to meet Gloria Steinem in real life—I hope she doesn’t inquire about the details of my feminist record. It’s there, but in my younger years I did work harder for what seemed more immediate, achievable goals, like ending the Vietnam War. I would say I don’t feel tragically ashamed, more like the descendant of a suffragette being admonished by her ancestors: “Do you realize what we went through?” I’ve always been on the right side—but not raging. I wanted my career and achievements to speak for, not themselves, but for me. I had earned that standing, regardless of gender, I felt. Looking back, after learning how hard it was to be heard, even when you did everything right—even way beyond right—I wonder what on earth I was thinking about. Why did I feel I had to prove anything?

Standing: That Which Is Assumed for Others Often Needs to Be Earned or Proven for Women

Lori Lightfoot (right) and Toni Preckwinkle, run-off candidates for mayor of Chicago

Shame is certainly not the word I apply to this past year. This is a shout-it-from-the-rooftops time. From the speak-up success of #MeToo to the feminism of Congress (I love saying that) to the fact that in my city of Chicago, we are going to have an African-American woman as mayor. She might even be a lesbian. Those aren’t the reasons I’d vote for a mayor, but it’s all pretty cool to see that the field is feminine, so the choice is gender neutral. I’m hoping the campaign will be civil and issues-oriented. The road is rocky ahead, as we can already see from snide comments about these remarkable women. Yet, to be standing tall on this road is significant.

The Issue Is Long-Standing

The extraordinary and hard-earned events of the year aren’t, however, why the standing of women has been on my mind. I launched a novel in the fall, The Fourteenth of September, a woman’s story of Vietnam. I’ve been talking about it across the country and answering continuing questions about why I would write a book about that war from a woman’s point of view: What was my intention? Why would it matter? How could there be a story if women weren’t even in the war? Their lives weren’t on the line, were they? These aren’t judgmental questions, they come from a point of genuine curiosity, and an eventual thrill that there even is a story about women during that war.

The discussions have been like peeling an onion. The first comments are usually from men, sharing their experiences of the Draft Lottery, but then, slowly but surely, the women’s questions begin. They have stories of experiences as well—of impact, not combat. As the queries deepen, so do my answers, and I find myself going back to my childhood where issues of inequity began for so many of us. Mine was a bit unusual, so the disconnect was clearer.

Both my parents were in World War II. My mother actually saw much more action than my father (I’ve always loved saying that). She was a nurse, a first lieutenant, overseas for three years. My father was sent to Panama, out of the war, and came to Europe after D-Day but in time for the Battle of the Bulge. I don’t want to compare their experiences and assess which one had it worse, since that will undermine my whole point, but the details are significant to set up the issue.

Edith Finnemann Hoey, 1st Lt., Army Nurse Corps

My mother had stories (and scrapbooks) that we pried out of her years later that were amazing: in Patton’s army, helping perform meatball surgery in twenty-hour shifts in a tent on the front, dipping her cup into a tub of cold coffee to keep awake before rotating behind the lines for a little rest before it would start all over again; part of a team on VE day that liberated Stalag 11 in Heidenheim, Germany. As the daughter of Danish immigrants she could understand German, and when the captured men smiled and called the Americans names—just like in the movies—she giggled that she could wait for the killer moment, then answer back in their own language, showing she had understood all along, stunning them that this twenty-six-year-old farm girl could smack them back in place. It was cold in Heidenheim, and the prisoners had little clothing. They were huddled in the fetal position to keep warm . . . for years. Her job, as head of triage, was to take their limbs and try to pull them apart to see if there was any range of motion, any hope for life. Just take a moment to imagine what that would be like. But she didn’t want to talk about it. Not, we thought, because most vets didn’t, but because she had found that “no one wanted to hear it.”

When conversations began, she was usually shut down with “but you were just a nurse.” It was my father who was the sanctioned target of a bullet that could kill him, so his stories were the real war stories. My mother didn’t have the necessary standing to be taken as seriously, so she went silent. Eventually she began to agree—maybe what she’d been through hadn’t been that important after all. Maybe her contribution hadn’t been that significant.

Even as a child I remember thinking it so odd that the war experiences of my parents would be assessed and weighed differently. It didn’t make sense. They were equally brave and patriotic. What they went through was equally dangerous and horrific. Why would a scale be applied? Though my mother’s life could also have been lost, it wasn’t technically on the line. She didn’t have standing. Therefore, she didn’t have respect. And yet, though I could imagine my father shooting someone, I couldn’t picture him having the patience and compassion to slowly coax frozen limbs away from bony rib cages and out into the light.

Do We Need Standing for Respect?

When it came to Vietnam, the war of my generation, I was surprised to see similar circumstances happen firsthand. In the antiwar movement, where so many women were involved, despite early feminism it was often very hard to be taken seriously. In the depths of the terror over the Draft Lottery, you could participate, organize, empathize, comfort, but—as you could be told in a snap—you could never really understand what the guys were going through because you would never face a bullet or wonder if you could kill someone. We were often marginalized, just at the point when we felt we were breaking through with our own contributions. We didn’t have the standing to be taken seriously.

The Fourteenth of September is a story of those women. My intention was to pose a female dilemma with the same gravitas and emotional intensity as the decision the men had to make about going to Vietnam to die or to Canada, another kind of death. I call it a Coming of Conscience novel. I wanted to explore how a woman would approach the decision of integrity trumping consequences, how she’d weigh the same factors of duty, security, future, and conscience. It’s as close as I could come. I wanted to give my character Judy the standing she deserved, and, I suppose, however little and late, my mother.

Before my mother died, she talked about how disappointed she was. She’d felt her daughters would fare so much better without the many restrictions of her time. Though there’d been a lot of change, she thought that in her long ninety-year lifetime, we’d have settled this issue of standing.

Standing Tall

My mother has been gone for over a decade but would have been gratified about the achievements of women in this year, celebrated in this Women’s History Month. We’re far from settled, but we are certainly standing taller and perhaps, at some point, we’ll naturally loom so large we won’t have to think of it at all. And someday Women’s History will just be History.

In the interim, I won’t let it pass. I’ve scheduled posts and Facebook ads on the issues I’m writing about, and I’m celebrating. Today, I totally assume standing for my story, for my “record,” and I’m standing up—just like Mom.

My mother, sometime in the 1940’s, standing tall and fearless. I have no doubt she’d pull that trigger.

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Thank You: The Coming of Conscience Scholarship Is Fully Funded with 200+ Applicants to Date

SOCIAL GIVING CAMPAIGN

Coming of Conscience: A character-defining personal decision or action where integrity trumps consequences.

The tag line for my book The Fourteenth of September, which came out this fall, is “A Coming of Conscience Novel,” a designation intended to echo yet distinguish it from the typical coming of age experience. In the story, which takes place during one of the most difficult times in our country’s history—The Vietnam War—the main character, Judy Talton, is plunged into a dangerous journey of self-discovery. She ultimately makes a character-defining decision with huge ramifications for who she is and what she will become. Her dilemma parallels that of America at the time: What are we if we stay in Vietnam? Who are we if we leave?

I call her decision a “Coming of Conscience,” which I define as an issue of character—when integrity trumps consequences. One of the concerns at stake for Judy is the hard-won scholarship that is her ticket to the independent future she desperately desires.

Paying It Forward

In the spirit of Judy’s journey, as part of the launch of The Fourteenth of September, I initiated a social giving program to fund a scholarship at Northern Illinois University, the real-life model for the fictional college in the novel. The scholarship is intended to encourage young people in today’s equally challenging times to engage in meaningful activism and bold personal responsibility. It’s to be awarded to the student who best demonstrates their understanding of what Coming of Conscience means to them, and their plan for how they will use their degree to help change the world in whatever way their beliefs guide them.

When the program was launched, I asked you to help me fund the scholarship either by sharing my posts or a photo of your copy of the novel, or by making a short video to share your own personal Coming of Conscience moment. For each involvement I donated money to the scholarship fund, and some of you also gave direct cash contributions.

I thank you so much for your participation and I’m happy to report that the $10,000 scholarship is fully funded and that there are a record-breaking 200+ applicants.

We Can STILL Change the World

WATERGATE PROSECUTER AND MSNBC CONTRIBUTOR, JILL WINE-BANKS.

Back in Judy’s day, young people spoke out and ended a war. Here in the present, we’re faced with many issues and choices… all of which have consequences, many of which involve integrity. Now more than ever, we need Coming of Conscience moments to define the character of each of us, and of our country.

The essays of the scholarship applicants speak of dreams and plans that are bold and meaningful, and I’ll share some of them in future posts. Meanwhile, thank you for your help in making those thoughts crystallize, the first step in making change happen.

Help grow the Coming of Conscience Scholarship at Northern Illinois University and inspire more talented students toward activism and growth into their personal, social and political maturity. For information on ways to give, please call our toll-free number, 1-877-GIV-2NIU (1‑877-448-2648)

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