Sat 18 Apr, 2009
the unbearable crowdedness of being Lisa Jones
Comments (9) Filed under: UncategorizedTags: Bulletproof Diva, Lisa Jones, names, Spike Lee, Up!
THE UNBEARABLE CROWDEDNESS OF BEING LISA JONES
Number of US women named Lisa Jones: 4,262.
Number named Ann Smith: 2,991
(source: Whitepages.com)
My name is Lisa Jones. Not Lisa Jones the adjunct professor of nutrition at LaSalle University. Not the college basketball player. I run neither a home for the needy in Florida nor a Pilates studio in New York City. I’m not a realtor, anchor woman or a porn star.
Even among authors, a certain amount of individuation from other Lisa Joneses is in order: I did not write Bulletproof Diva (whose author, Lisa Jones, was hailed by the Boston Globe back in 1997 for writing “so vibrant and dynamic, her words create a kind of fierce music… a fabulous book.”) Damn! I wish I DID write that book. Its publisher called it chock full of “fierce black girl humor.” Lisa lives in New York City and even worked with Spike Lee.
Me, I’m of Swedish/Irish stock and am pretty much white as snow. I was raised mostly in Denver, went to college up the road in Boulder, worked briefly on used car lots, started practicing Buddhist meditation, and wrote a book. But so did ANOTHER Lisa Jones, whose book, Up: A novel (about car sales and love) won her a 2003 “Best Novel About a Car Saleswoman” citation from Westword magazine, Denver’s weekly newspaper. I got an e-mail from that Lisa Jones a few years back when I wrote a column about my boyfriend that appeared in the Denver Post. The by-line had caused some confusion among her friends, since she was, in her own words, “a big ole queer.”
So I’m the white, straight, married, suburban Lisa Jones. In the spectrum of things, I may be showing as the boring Lisa Jones. But listen: I have a fascination and love for the Northern Arapahos of Wyoming, in particular with a member of that tribe named Stanford Addison (whose name sounds like it belongs to some guy who graduated from boarding school with John Kerry and is now a stockbroker, but actually belongs to a quadriplegic native healer and horse gentler.) He — and his extraordinary family — are the heros of the book I took six years to write and which is formally hitting the shelves on May 12 — Broken: A Love Story.
Colleen Whalen says:
From the moment Sara (a freshman honor scholar at Wyoming Indian High School and a niece of Stanford Addison) brought me copy of Lisa Jones’ new book, Broken, I sensed this would be an important book for our students. A book to give them the chance to read a book about themselves, their relatives, and their tribe. “This is our only copy now,” she said, “Uncle Stan told me to bring it to you.”
I just finished Broken. During the two days I had the book in my classroom I found the students begging for a look inside the pages of a book they said “tells about us”. One student kept stopping by and asking “does it talk about Tiny?” I described a scene from the book, the young man smiled and said, “I was there that day.” When he came into class later he did his assigned work quickly, demanding a turn at reading the chapter about his day at Stanford’s. Later this man showed me a picture of “the boys in black” at Stanford’s. I recognize them all as students who had attended Indian High School for short periods of time without ever graduating. I didn’t recognize the youngest in the photo. “That’s me, I was 11 or 12,” Sterling said proudly. This, more than anything filled me with hope for those “boys in black”. Sterling is a freshman this year at Indian High. He not only passed all his classes this year, but he also is a B honor roll student and a track athlete.
I had heard of Standford Addison for years. The Casper Star Tribune has done a few full page articles with pictures. I found that placing these newspaper stories in the classroom insured they were read by everyone. The kids speak of Stanford with love, admiration and a little awe. They always speak of him as a relative and a friend.
Broken does a great job of looking inside the everyday lives of members of the Arapaho Tribe and community. Lisa shares the triumphs and day to day struggles lived by those on the reservation. She does this in a positive way. Some might not see life in a crowded house full of high school “refugees” in black as a positive. Lisa describes the kids as individuals with a purpose and sees them full of life and promise. Lisa finds the hope behind the sadness of lives broken by poverty and healed by a communities love. She captures the feeling of loss when one of the boys “goes home”. She depicts the way this traditional people mourn with all their hearts and then pick up and go on for the living. We mourn with them, only to be taken back to a place of love and hope in a traditionally modern world. The reader will find themselves laughing, mourning and living on.
With the folks at Stanford’s we find ourselves coming to terms with life’s harsh realities, finding purpose, and gathering strength to look toward the future. We learn the way the Arapaho have been going on, moving forward, for over a century. Lisa shows the acceptance that can be found in a world outside the modern boxes of reality. She shows how what seems to be a hopeless and frightening world can be full of laughter, love and a positive future.
Lisa writes a book that tells the story of Native Americans everywhere, not just those on the Wind River Rerservation. She writes with reality, laughter, and takes us into a world full of the magic of prayer.
JessicaLeple says:
Wow! Thank you! I always wanted to write in my blog something like that. Can I take part of your post to my site? Of course, I will add backlink?
lisa says:
i’m very interested… but i’d love to know — what’s your blog? it looks like it’s in russian? is jessica leple the “lisa jones” of eastern europe? thanks!
ArianaFaLe says:
beautiiful blog merciiiiii
Rebecca Kottmann Stevens says:
Lisa…I just finished reading your beautiful book, Broken A Love Story.
You are wonderful. You are not boring. But I do wish you had sold used cars. I have done that, too.
I am an out-of-work electronic journalist. I currently work as a Salesperson for one of the two PBS stations here in Denver. Your book was on the shelf in the copy room and I grabbed it. When I asked if I could read it, my boss said, “it’s all yours.”
I used to think I had a book in me. Just one. Then I read your perfect book. Sigh. I might have an essay or two, but you’ve already written the perfect memoir. I never thought of my unwritten book as memoir, but with all the ‘memoirs’ out there, I now realize if I do have such a book inside, it can only be about what I know.
I’m no Nora Roberts. JD Robb. You get my drift.
Partly (mother’s side) of Cherokee descent, it seems I, and my two teenagers, seemed only to get the alcohol-fueled and tainted part of our heritage. I quit drinking 30-someodd years ago. My brother died at 32, mom at 60. Dad passed in 06, at 80. He was German.
Okay, my point is that no, I’m boring, not you!
Actually, do people just start telling you their life’s stories like that?!?!?
If I could find a real job and move back to Boulder, I would insert myself in your writing group. Believe it or not, I read for a part in a movie on St. Paddy’s Day. I’m thinking all that schooling in French and Theatre may still…nah.
I’m glad you and Peter ended up in Boulder. In a perfect world, I’d move back there tomorrow, and drive into a job at 9News every day. I was replaced at my weekend morning anchor job in Colorado Springs Dec. 2nd. By a tall blonde woman half my age. I’ll be 56 in August.
Well. That’s the longest and only fan letter I’ve written in my life.
Thank you for being the Lisa Jones you are, my literary friend. You are gifted.
Sal N. says:
Thank you for a great blog, I will be sure to bookmark your site and check later… Usually I don’t leave a comment but I wanted to let you know that I really like your site 🙂
Lee Weingrad says:
I used to know one of the Lisa Joneses, but I’m not sure which one. Not the “big ole queer,” I don’t think. Since Amazon only sends out books engraved in tortoise shells to China, I might have to wait until I get back to Boulder to look at the back flap and discover which one it really is.
Maggie McCulloch says:
Lisa, your book touched me deeply. The love you have for your characters made me love them also. My shock and heartbreak when Cody died was an attenuated version of your own. Thank you for sharing your journey, your lessons and your inspirations with honesty and clarity. I feel connected to you through your book and I wish you the very best in all you attempt.
Marianne W. says:
I just finished your book, “Broken” It really touched my heart. I feel like I know you and the people in your book. Thank you for your candidness and openness. That is really difficult to do, but I’m sure it has helped a lot of people. I live in an area where there are Native American’s, and your story has helped me to understand a bit more their culture.
God bless you.