1. How did Ashley's early experiences at an all-black elementary school help her to develop an understanding of oppression?

2. Do you believe Ashley still has faith in God? Why or why not?

3. What is it about Cheryl that causes her to justify staying with Charlie?

4. What truth does David have to face about himself in order to be able to restart his relationship with Ashley?

5. Relate the Louis L'Amour quote at the start of Ch. 4 (p. 93) to the story development in the chapter.

6. How is the description of the student parking area (p. 115-116) related to the description of the bumper stickers on the teachers' cars (p. 117) ? What do these comparisons help the reader conclude about Ashley and Bev?

7. How do the Ironman characters and their actions inspire change in the Courage in Patience summer school students?

8. What is the event that causes a paradigm shift in Dub's belief system?

9. Why does Ashley continue to argue with herself about the reality of the abuse she endured at Charlie's hands?

10. How does Dr. Matt's handling of the six-year-old boy and his mother in his waiting room give a hint about Dr. Matt's personality? (p. 139-142)

11. Relate the Dag Hammarskjold quote at the start of Chapater 6 (p. 145) to the story development in the chapter.

12. What does Ashley's ability to advocate for others but not herself indicate about her personality?

13. Why does Dub resent Kevin so much? (p. 167)

14. How does the Mr. Nak quote (p. 173) relate to each of the characters in Courage in Patience?

15. Explain this quote (p. 185): "Everybody's poor in some way, Ash. But those who blame others for their problems are always going to be destitute, because they refuse to take responsibility for their own failures in their lives."

16. Did Cheryl really want Ashley to return with her to Northside? (p. 190-209)

17. What do Kevin and Roxanne see in each other?

18. On page 237, Ben asks David some really hard questions. If David had had a chance to answer Ben, what would he have said?

19. What are the school board members and the members of Purify Patience most afraid of?

20. Make a prediction: what will happen between Ashley and Cheryl in the sequel, Hope in Patience?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yCNz7i88RM

This beautiful trailer was created by Kam Wai Yu, Kunati Books' Creative Director.

Beth Fehlbaum, author
Courage in Patience, a story of hope for those who have endured abuse
http://courageinpatience.blogspot.com
Ch. 1 is online!

Beth Fehlbaum's first novel COURAGE IN PATIENCE reads more like a memoir from a caregiver (who in this book happens to match Fehlbaum's full time career as an English teacher) than a fierce diatribe against abuse - and that is what makes this very well written book so readable. Child abuse - 'child' including the years from birth to adulthood - is a major problem in this country, and indeed around the world: the media barrages us daily with third world country tales of child labor in all manner of 'work' in addition to the external abuse inflicted on children whose parents are removed by war and bloodshed. And while Fehlbaum concentrates on sexual abuse of the central character Ashley by her stepfather and the 'blind eye' abuse by her mother, she manages to share all manner of abusive practices that bring light to issues we all may be ignoring - racial, prejudice, homophobia, physical deformities, etc.

Fehlbaum understands how to build a story well - her introduction of the central character Ashley Asher begins with enough humor and gentleness to make us care for a young girl in dire circumstances. The story of the novel is well described elsewhere - secretive sexual abuse, confrontation, alienation, sources of solace and protection and the tremendously important role teachers can play as the watchdog and supportive arm for young abused children. For this reader the story reads best in the portion of the book devoted to peer community assistance as focused on the little town of Patience, Texas. It is here that the novel rises above the usual tale of the abused child and enters the realm of finding support through sharing the various kinds of child abuse among groups of friends. If the novel becomes a bit preachy at the end - an attempt to focus the message of the book that by the time of the conclusion has already been clarified - the rest of the book more than makes up for this flaw. Fehlbaum knows the language of the various youngsters and writes credibly in their conversations, a fact that makes this book more sensitive than many on the subject.

COURAGE IN PATIENCE is a fine read and an excellent resource for those who are undergoing abuse or are still recovering from the scars of the many forms of abuse the book addresses. Spread the word: Beth Fehlbaum has added to the library of novels with a helpful message. Grady Harp, December 08

“There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats: For I am arm'd so strong in honesty That they pass me by as the idle wind, Which I respect not”
--Shakespeare

December 24, 2004, I Fed-Exed a letter to my abuser, asking him to please stop making comments about my body. I was 38 years old, 100+ pounds overweight, with an out-of-control binge-eating disorder being the most obvious sign of my distress. The armor of fat with which I had coated my body was nothing, compared to the problems inside my head. Simply put, the life I had with my husband and three daughters was in peril because I had been playing "Let's Pretend," as in, "Let's Pretend That I Was Not Sexually Abused Throughout My Childhood"-- and the tricks I had used to cope weren't working any more. I was on my way to CrazyTown, and I was taking four other people with me. Something had to give. It was to the point that I had no choice but to choose another way, and that way was honesty --with myself and everyone around me.
The first step to dealing with reality, at least the first step that involved my extended family, was the letter that set the first boundary I had ever had with the man who crept into my childhood bedroom at night for years, and who felt entitled to comment on my body even as I was nearing age 40.
The consequences of the letter were immediate. My husband, children, and I followed through on the planned Christmas Eve visit to my abuser's home. I know: crazy, right? I was so naïve that I thought that he would understand my request and do as I asked. Instead, I discovered my abuser hiding in his bedroom, his wife not speaking to me, and other family members clearly unhappy with what I had done. Subsequent communications with his wife made clear that she was unwilling to discuss, in any way, shape, or form, what had happened to me. It did not matter that my life was falling apart because of it. According to her, it was all my problem. Period.
I spiraled into such a depressed state of mind that my husband did not allow me to drive, for fear that I would follow through with the idea of plowing my car into a bridge column. The suicidal feelings that surface in the face of rejection are still my demons, but they have lessened dramatically over the past four years. The things that have saved me from self-destructing are the love of my husband and daughters, a kick-ass therapist, hope that pain will go away, hatred of that which is wrong, and resilience~perseverance that are fueled by my family's love, my therapist's guidance, and infinite hope for healing.
I suppose the feelings I have at Christmas now are akin to what I would experience if my abuser's wife died four years ago-- it's like an annual reminder of what I have lost. I loved her so much. I love her so much. I love the person I thought she was. It is the juxtaposition of who I thought she was, and the person she has been in the face of the truth I have to live in my recovery, that is hardest on my heart. December 24, 2004, was like being thrown into an icy lake. I am still trying to catch my breath from the shock. I don't know that I ever will, but I sure am trying.
As a child, I loved the holidays like nobody else. I started playing Christmas music in August. I decorated my dollhouse elaborately, and the family residing there not only understood my holiday lust, they embraced it. They didn't have a choice. I created in that miniature world what I craved in my own reality.
The holidays following 2004, however, marked the advent of something I had never experienced: dread of the holiday season. I wished I could just skip November and December completely: just go to sleep around Halloween and wake in time to go back to living on January 2nd of the new year. I never shared those feelings with my children, though, because I felt a responsibility to provide the same sort of Christmas that they had always known, complete with elaborately decorating our house. I did the best I could. My mind was shit and I inevitably descended into a sort of spacey, emotional state that lasted about a week or so. But my family was very supportive and understanding. It was not easy for any of us. It still isn't.
The stockings were hung on the corner cupboard with care, just as always, but some things changed forever from the holidays of the past. For one, no more Christmas cookies or baking marathons. Facing the truth about my eating disorder meant the end of baking,decorating, and pigging out on sugar cookies. I no longer churned out baked goods with the intensity of a professional bakery, and I no longer numbed my feelings with sugar and lard. The biggest change, though, was where we celebrated and who we celebrated with. All my life, and all of my children's lives, we had spent Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve at my abuser's house. Things were great, do you get that? Things were great and the holidays were magical, as long as I didn't face the truth and I didn't ask any of the people who were there when I was growing up to face it, either. It was when I set a boundary that things blew apart. That was not allowed. When I did that, I lost the person I thought of as my best friend: my abuser's wife. I thought of her as a person who was always there for me. There are days that I still can't believe our relationship is what it is, now: non-existent.
I look back at who I was then and I know without a doubt that there is no way, NO WAY that I can ever go back and be that person again. Beth, circa 2004 and before, the one who kept silent and smiled and played the game of "Let's Pretend," is dead. I don't even know her any more. Likewise, my own extended family does not know me-- the person bent on recovery from childhood sexual abuse; the person dedicated to living as authentic a life as humanly possible; the person still trying to catch her breath from the plunge into the icy lake of Christmas 2004. They knew a pretender, and the pretender is dead.
I thought about writing this piece for the past several days as I prepared for Christmas 2008. I was struck by the difference in my little family's life, when comparing 2008 to 2004.
I cooked my first full-blown Thanksgiving dinner, this past Thanksgiving. My family and I made the decision that we would stay home this year, rather than putting out feelers to my mother-in-law or my husband's brother and his wife, to see what they were doing for the day. For the first time since 2004, our little family knew that we were "enough" for each other, and my mind has healed enough that I was able to do the sort of mental gymnastics required to pull off something like Thanksgiving dinner.
It is only in undertaking holiday family dinners 100% on my own that I have an understanding of the work that goes into them. My abuser's wife always made it look so effortless-- and, if we still had a relationship, I think I would ask her how she managed to do that. I am motivated by love for my family, of wanting them to have the best possible experience. I think she was motivated by the same thing. But I do not understand how that kind of love exists in tandem with the sort that demands secrets and the sacrifice of my innocence and right to my own body, to not having it taken by someone else. I do not understand the coexistence of love with deliberate indifference. I do not "get" how I ceased to matter and it leads me to believe that in fact I never really did, to her. It makes me wonder too, how it is that someone who is so gracious a hostess to everyone can be so conditional with her love for me.
Christmas Eve, I cooked my very first Christmas dinner. My youngest daughter came up with a family Sweet Potato Casserole recipe, and I found my grandmother's Cornbread Dressing recipe in a stack of recipes and cookbooks I inherited from her. I avoided looking through them before, because it hurt so much to think of her and the holidays. But I have healed enough now that I am able to do things like look through her recipes and see her handwriting, without it undoing me completely. The sweet potatoes and my grandmother's dressing were the two entrees my children had missed the most, in the years since we lost the relationship with my extended family. I searched the Internet high and low for a recipe that seeemed close to the traditional Butterhorn Rolls. Didn't find the exact one, but the one I did find, my children said was even better than the family recipe. We invited my brother and his wife. Their attendance at our table was beautiful not only because they were there, but because he and I were estranged for many years and are now closer than we have ever been in our lives. It was the first time since we reconciled three years ago that we have gone through an entire visit without really talking about the painful journey we endured to reach today. We have an appreciation for one another that was distinctly lacking when we were growing up.
Yesterday, Christmas Day, we hosted my husband's family: 18 people in all. We had people seated all over the place and I fell asleep sitting up in bed last night, but we did it. At the end of the night, my husband said, "Thank you for hosting such a fun evening." He says that I get better at preparing the traditional foods every time I make them, which gives me hope for next year, when I will be brave enough to actually attempt stuffing the turkey and trying [sigh] again to make gravy. So far, pan gravy eludes me. Thank God for the stuff that comes in a jar.
I look back at what I have lost, and I look at what I now have-- and even though it's been a walk through hell --and it ain't over yet-- I can see a day in the future when the ache in my chest isn't quite as sharp as it still is today. I have hope, and I have home. I AM home. And that is more than enough for me.

Winners of the Courage Story Contest: thank you to all who entered!

From: http://freshfiction.com/dev/review.php?id=22334

Ashley Asher had a father she never knew, but a stepfather she wished she didn't know! Her mom loved her new husband to the point that she denied his emotional and sexual abuse upon her own daughter. Not unusual, just very sad!

Left in desperation and guilt, Ashley found a confidant in her teacher. As by law, her teacher reported the abuse. Let the healing begin!

Ashley was reunited with her father and a stepmother who had the courage to defend not only her new daughter but a whole classroom of students who struggled with real life issues. A remarkable woman in her own right, she too had suffered in life, making her the perfect role model to peak discussions and trust in the classroom.

It was the perfect setting for the healing process to take place on so many levels, but when the parents found out that their little town was inundated with real life, they wanted to sweep it under the rug, and would stop only short of a mob lynching.

Real and poignant, COURAGE IN PATIENCE takes a stand on injustices and abuse of every nature. No one is safe from life and this beautifully written book addresses it with honesty and the kind of consideration worthy of intense discussion and thought. In her writing, Ms. Fehlbaum addresses the issues with realness and optimism refusing to deny the actual possibilities of abuse and its consequences, at the same time giving hope to the victims of such crimes.

A book that will etch its words on the reader's heart and mind. Amazing!!!

Profile in courage (reprinted from Athens Daily Review)

By Lauren Ricks STAFF WRITER


Beth Fehlbaum’s tragic childhood was the inspiration for her first novel.
Fehlbaum grew up in the Dallas area and has been teaching for 10 years.
She said she began going to a therapist to help deal with childhood sexual abuse about four years ago. “I wasn’t handling my life very well. All the tricks I had used to keep from thinking about it weren’t working anymore,” she said. “I was living in a place of anxiety and fear.”
Fehlbaum said her therapist suggested she write a novel. She said she wrote the book over a six-month period in 2007. “It took me four months to pull myself out of my own head and get beyond my own pain and grief to be able to tell someone else’s story,” she said in a question and answer with The Lariat Online. “But once I was able to do that, to look at the experience of sexual abuse and recovery from an observer’s standpoint, the story flowed.”
Her book, “Courage in Patience,” is a fictional account of a 15-year-old girl, Ashley Nicole Asher, who is sexually abused by her stepfather. Fehlbaum said the first two chapters are about the character’s past, and the rest is about recovery.
She said the character’s recovery begins when she is placed with her father, who lives in Patience. The fictional town is set in East Texas, according to Fehlbaum. “I was writing it for myself. I was trying to get this stuff out,” she said. "You feel like every inch of your life is covered with shame.” Fehlbaum said she hopes the book will let survivors of abuse know they are not alone. “There are 38 million sexual abuse survivors in the United States,” she said. “I hope they realize there is hope. You can find out you are much stronger than you ever thought.”

Fehlbaum said it’s really gratifying when people write and tell her she “nailed it.” She said the book is meant for people at least 14 years old. It was published by a Canadian publishing house, Kunati Books, this year. The Web site, http://www.courageinpatience.blogspot.com/, includes the first chapter.

Fehlbaum said copies can also be purchased through Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com.She said she will be signing books at the Barnes & Noble in Tyler on Jan. 17, from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m.
“The ultimate message is if you face the truth, you find peace there,” Fehlbaum said.