Week in Virginia
Thursday, 14 July 2005 07:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daMy week in Virginia was very different from my sweetie's. In part, this was because I was a "Ministry and Counsel Widow", as our community calls the partners of those in his role... He needed me to support him, so I did that for the week. This meant I consciously left a lot of time un-committed, and that I wasn't going to get involved with some really challenging work that would interfere with my ability to be supportive of d. And let me say, it was tough to consciously avoid some other service work that I felt was important, but I had to let go and trust that somebody else would do it.
The majority of people at FGC Gathering take workshops in the morning. I signed up for a wonderful-sounding workshop on Rufus Jones, one of the shining lights of early 20th-century Quakerism. He was a co-founder of American Friends Service Committee and wrote a number of books on theology, mysticism, and activism. I wasn't convinced I wanted to do a workshop this year, but I gave it a shot. And on the first day of workshops, Sunday, the leader handed out 200 pages of readings that we were expected to read over the week. This made my decision much easier. I took the readings and didn't go back to the workshop. They are fascinating; I spent Monday morning reading from Jones' The Church's Debt To Heretics, which I enjoyed quite a bit. In it he defended those opposing orthodoxy within the Christian church. As it turned out, this dovetailed nicely with Thursday's planery, when John Spong made a similar defence of a living faith (rather than a rule-based one). I look forward to reading the rest of the Jones handouts- just, over the next months, rather than in the evenings of one week.
Over the week I got to see a few dozen people I care about deeply. Lorena Tinker is in her 80s, the mother of some interesting people, one who's a GLBT activist, one who's a doctor, and one who's an engineer. She, her husband, and two of their kids were behind the Supreme Court case, Tinker v. Des Moins (1969) which affirmed constitutional freedom of expression rights for students. This week I had two conversations with Lorena that will stick with me.
The first was when she was telling dan and me about her spring. She had a bad case of pneumonia, and basically spent the month of January unconscious in bed. She remembers getting sick, and she remembers getting better, but most of a month is basically gone. She looked at us and shrugged, "If that's what death is like, what do I have to be afraid of? You're there, and then you're not. It was pretty easy." For some reason, this matter-of-fact attitude, from somebody as defiant and strong as her, makes me feel considerably better about the abstract idea of death. I feel I can understand, not what she went through, but exactly what she means.
The second conversation with Lorena was in a loud, busy cafeteria, with so many people on every side that I had to strain to hear what she was saying. We were talking about how she had lots of respect for people who can engage people in conversations around deeply contentious issues, without getting upset or provoking violence. This was a workshop she was taking part in.
Lorena told me about when she and her husband were part of the Freedom Summer in Mississippi. She went to Ruleville, Mississippi and stayed with Fannie Lou Hamer, an African American civil rights activist. She and her husband tried to visit a White Methodist Church (her husband's other denomination), where they were forcibly removed because they were recognized as northern agitators. The police came and escorted them out of church. They worshipped with the Black Methodist Church in town, as Fannie Lou's guests. That night, her host insisted they take the bedroom, while she sleep on the couch in the front living room. After dark, they heard a shot and breaking glass. It turned out someone had shot into the living room window. Lorena says she looked out a side window and saw a Sheriff's car outside. She told Fannie Lou, "Wow, they got here fast." and was told, "you don't understand, it was the Sherrif who shot out my window."
Lorena said that in the mid-1980s, they finally went back to Ruleville to visit their friends there. Once again, they went to the traditionally White Methodist church, and there they met the son of the Sherrif, who had a position in the church. He told them his name and asked what brought them to Ruleville. They told him what had happened the last time they were in Ruleville, and the man got very agitated; he told them that he couldn't believe what they were saying about his father. He went away, and his brother came over and asked what they had told the other brother to make him so upset. They told him to ask the brother, because they weren't going to go through that again.
If I recall correctly, they didn't stay through the service, but again went to the African-American Methodist church.
...And that brings me to mid-Tuesday of Gathering. I want to continue this, but later, because I need to get some work done now.
The majority of people at FGC Gathering take workshops in the morning. I signed up for a wonderful-sounding workshop on Rufus Jones, one of the shining lights of early 20th-century Quakerism. He was a co-founder of American Friends Service Committee and wrote a number of books on theology, mysticism, and activism. I wasn't convinced I wanted to do a workshop this year, but I gave it a shot. And on the first day of workshops, Sunday, the leader handed out 200 pages of readings that we were expected to read over the week. This made my decision much easier. I took the readings and didn't go back to the workshop. They are fascinating; I spent Monday morning reading from Jones' The Church's Debt To Heretics, which I enjoyed quite a bit. In it he defended those opposing orthodoxy within the Christian church. As it turned out, this dovetailed nicely with Thursday's planery, when John Spong made a similar defence of a living faith (rather than a rule-based one). I look forward to reading the rest of the Jones handouts- just, over the next months, rather than in the evenings of one week.
Over the week I got to see a few dozen people I care about deeply. Lorena Tinker is in her 80s, the mother of some interesting people, one who's a GLBT activist, one who's a doctor, and one who's an engineer. She, her husband, and two of their kids were behind the Supreme Court case, Tinker v. Des Moins (1969) which affirmed constitutional freedom of expression rights for students. This week I had two conversations with Lorena that will stick with me.
The first was when she was telling dan and me about her spring. She had a bad case of pneumonia, and basically spent the month of January unconscious in bed. She remembers getting sick, and she remembers getting better, but most of a month is basically gone. She looked at us and shrugged, "If that's what death is like, what do I have to be afraid of? You're there, and then you're not. It was pretty easy." For some reason, this matter-of-fact attitude, from somebody as defiant and strong as her, makes me feel considerably better about the abstract idea of death. I feel I can understand, not what she went through, but exactly what she means.
The second conversation with Lorena was in a loud, busy cafeteria, with so many people on every side that I had to strain to hear what she was saying. We were talking about how she had lots of respect for people who can engage people in conversations around deeply contentious issues, without getting upset or provoking violence. This was a workshop she was taking part in.
Lorena told me about when she and her husband were part of the Freedom Summer in Mississippi. She went to Ruleville, Mississippi and stayed with Fannie Lou Hamer, an African American civil rights activist. She and her husband tried to visit a White Methodist Church (her husband's other denomination), where they were forcibly removed because they were recognized as northern agitators. The police came and escorted them out of church. They worshipped with the Black Methodist Church in town, as Fannie Lou's guests. That night, her host insisted they take the bedroom, while she sleep on the couch in the front living room. After dark, they heard a shot and breaking glass. It turned out someone had shot into the living room window. Lorena says she looked out a side window and saw a Sheriff's car outside. She told Fannie Lou, "Wow, they got here fast." and was told, "you don't understand, it was the Sherrif who shot out my window."
Lorena said that in the mid-1980s, they finally went back to Ruleville to visit their friends there. Once again, they went to the traditionally White Methodist church, and there they met the son of the Sherrif, who had a position in the church. He told them his name and asked what brought them to Ruleville. They told him what had happened the last time they were in Ruleville, and the man got very agitated; he told them that he couldn't believe what they were saying about his father. He went away, and his brother came over and asked what they had told the other brother to make him so upset. They told him to ask the brother, because they weren't going to go through that again.
If I recall correctly, they didn't stay through the service, but again went to the African-American Methodist church.
...And that brings me to mid-Tuesday of Gathering. I want to continue this, but later, because I need to get some work done now.
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no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 July 2005 03:35 pm (UTC)But you did do your "support your boyfriend" role very well. [And it's Ministry and Counsel...]
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 July 2005 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Monday, 11 April 2011 12:50 pm (UTC)Go away, robots! Shoo!
--
Так или иначе, этот пост привлекает (русский) спам роботов, так что я, закрывая его.
Уходи, роботы! Шу!