Note: All photos are from Janice Cummings O’Mahony’s website and Facebook page.
Janice Cummings O’Mahony stopped by this week with a copy of her latest book, Raise Your Hand If You Hear My Voice, and a box of Belgian chocolates to thank me for writing this story.
She will read from her first solo publication, and be available to sign books Sept. 11 at Freeland Library’s “Meet the Author,” from 4 to 5:30 PM.
The event notes her background: “Janice O’Mahony grew up around the world in a large Air Force family and moved with her husband Mike to Whidbey Island in 2001 where she co-authored Whidbey Island: Reflections on People and the Land, a non-fiction book discussing the various approaches to land use that have been used on Whidbey Island over time. She is one of four poets featured in the 2021 anthology Out of the Blue. Her work has been published in a number of journals. Raise Your Hand If You Hear My Voice is her first solo collection.”
During our visit, we talked easily of many things—about shared life experiences, some of which are found in her book: family life, the environment, living on Whidbey Island, impacts of war, what women do to make themselves attractive, White people’s privilege, and sharing one’s vulnerability.
“I want to add that includes some vulnerable honesty about myself,” said Janice regarding some of what she shares in her poems. “It’s hard. You read this, and you think Janice is a little snarky, a little judgmental. If you’re trying to tell the truth, you have to turn the lens on yourself as well.”
We talked of revealing who we actually are, rather than assuming a mask to please others, as being a liberating experience.
“We’re trained not tip our hands in that way,” Janice said on being willing to show our shadow side. “We’re good at talking about others. We really want to be seen as perfect. We need the juicy parts if we want to connect with another human being. If you want to connect with another human being, they can’t show their imperfection unless you show yours.”
If you really want to get the essence of Janice’s book, it’s worth listening to the podcast hosted by her brother Pat Cummings and his friend Greg Godels, Coming from Left Field. Aired last May, the nearly hour-long chat gives us an in-depth look at the influences in Janice’s life that led to publishing this book in her seventh decade.
The conversation flows, poems are read and honest dialogue follows. At one point, Pat Cummings said with great pride that he hopes this book makes his sister famous.
Regarding privilege—as considered in her poem “First World Musing,” Janice said, before reading the piece, “Here, it’s getting to be a little snarky. I live on Whidbey Island where there are elements of upper class wealthy people. I was getting a little sick of it.”
Below are a few segments from the poem:
We talked of weekend tourists who drive like idiots. They pull right in front of you,/gazing at the view. They crowd the grocery store/and buy all the decent bread.
RVs and bike racks mean tourists everywhere. Thank God the ferry holds some of them at bay. Across the water it is ugly, but our island stays pristine/so we tolerate the annoying vessel waits.
We’re troubled by the misery in other places/the age old litany of fire, flood, war and plague. We’re okay so far but what losses might be coming? We’ve come to count on all we have.
How much suffering would we have to endure/if all human pain were averaged out/and we each took our share. Would that be more fair? It might be too much for us to bear.
Or is it our job to offer thanks for bounty: clear skies, calm streets and clean water? We are keeping the channels of gratitude open/while pitying those whose work is to suffer.
“That is one of my favorite poems—it captures how people are oblivious at times,” Pat said after listening to the reading.
“It really captures that distance from reality,” added Greg.
“That’s my intention. Thanks for noticing,” noted Janice.
All four of Janice’s siblings’ professions involved working with society’s have nots. Janice is no exception. She is the middle child of five children raised in an Irish Catholic family. Her career before retiring to Whidbey Island included social work with the Seattle Police and their work with city’s troubled juveniles, writing speeches, working as a legislative aide.
“My professional job involved a lot of writing, grant writing, legislation, speeches for elected officials, legislative testimony,” said Janice during our visit. “The whole world of public policy and what takes place. I got pretty honed in my writing. Poetry puts you down to the bone.”
Throughout her career she learned what people need and want to know: “I took it as a personal and sacred challenge to explain to the average citizen complicated public policy. If you can’t explain to citizens and voters what the government is doing, you’re not doing your job.”
What she did not do was dumb down explanations, but made words accessible so people understood what the issue was: “We tend in the public sector to over talk, talk down, use acronyms. I got real fierce about communicating. We recognize junk food speaking and writing. We want nourishing meaningful words.”
Meanwhile, the podcast conversation continued about her work, as well as that of her brother and three sisters.
“You think about it, Pat, what people in our family have done—you’ve been in the trenches in low income, underfunded, terrible public schools,” said Janice. “I’ve been in juvenile court and jails and law enforcement during crisis intervention, Carol has been out on patrol, Sharon and Ann are both teachers and psychologists. I don’t know why it is that all five of us wound up kind of in the trenches beyond White middle classdom, but we did. That is a privilege to understand in a deeper way that most people don’t have.”
Janice’s book of poems touches on growing up, living with a father whose PTSD from his service in WWII and the Korean war left him reactive to the point that his children knew not to wake up him by touching him. That memory is recorded in her poem “Navigator” on page 115: “We learned not to touch him while he slept/but to awaken him from across the room/calling his name to avoid a sudden blow/he never meant to land.”
Distilling her thoughts into these poetic stories is one way Janice can leave a record of her times for the family.
“I have wanted to do this book for a long time,” Janice said while sipping green tea at our dining room table. “I’m getting older and realizing how short time is. Part of it is wanting to capture my family history for a very large family. Part of it is getting the confidence to connect with readers. That’s why I chose this title. I want a relationship with my readers. I want to know they’re with me.”
At the age of 78, Janice talked about elders’ capacity for experience and understanding.
“We see people, we see struggle. We see connections. There is so much pain in the world. So much suffering. I am starting to think about some connection about elders and wisdom. Perhaps we are in some way, receiving and filtering pain for others, and by doing so, we’re detoxing the world.”
Wow! That’s food for thought.
She went on: “A lot of elders may feel irrelevant. I say, oh no, Sister! You are holding some of their grief—the parents who lost their children in last week’s shooting in Minnesota. You’re holding up the world. It’s the power of witness and fearlessness. This is a really important job.”
Raise Your Hand If You Hear My Voice is available at Kingfisher Books in Coupeville, Moonraker Books in Langley, Village Books in Bellingham, and on Amazon.
To learn more, visit her webpage. Or scan the QR codes here.
After meeting with Janice, watching her podcast and reading her book, I hear her voice.