Saturday, April 27, 2019

New beginnings



Forty years ago, Susan and I came to make our home in Richmond, Virginia. This summer we will move to Austin, Texas. Last week 40 friends, including neighbors, work colleagues and others from across the city crowded into our home, to celebrate my 70th birthday. We also came together to give thanks for the remarkable journey we have shared together. 

We have loved this diverse community known as the Carillon where we raised our three boys. Our walks in the park are a highlight of most days. Richmond looks its best in April. Dogwood and azalea are in full bloom and the brilliant green leaves on massive oaks and tulip poplars provide shade. Just a mile away is Cary Street with cafes and boutique stores and the historic Byrd Theatre. Down the hill the river beckons.     

People sometimes ask us, “Why Richmond?” The answer we give is that we somehow felt God was doing something special in this city and we wanted to be part of it. Of course, we had no idea what that would mean! Our lives were changed by individuals who became our friends and who offered a level of trust far beyond what we had any right to expect. It has been our privilege to accompany them and to learn from them. They have had the courage to start a change process in their own lives; and they are building a new vision for a city scared by a history of slavery, civil war, and racial discrimination. 

Over the years, visitors from as far away as Northern Ireland, Lebanon, and Guatemala have come to study this city’s approach to healing wounded memory and building partnerships across traditional divides. Rajmohan Gandhi, grandson and biographer of Mahatma Gandhi, was among those from 25 countries in 1993 who joined Richmonders in their first public walk through the city’s racial history. He wrote later, “June 1993 was the start of a remarkable revelation. Resolving (with some difficulty) to face a painful past, Richmond discovered that concealed inside that pain was the seed of a great promise – a promise that an America that seeks healing will be sought after by a hurting world.”

Despite the odds, Richmond continues to build networks of trust that stand the test of time. The trustbuilding process begun here is now the foundation for pilot projects in several countries launched by Initiatives of Change International.

When we came to Richmond in 1980 we made a commitment to colleagues that we would stay for five years.  At the time it seemed like a lifetime. Neither of us had ever lived for more than three years in one place. Now we are following a new call to a new city and a new home. We have a five-year-old granddaughter eager to welcome us to Austin.

We will leave with mixed emotions, leaving so many dear friends who have become like family to us. As we discover a new community, we know that we will be led to people who are working for change. As we often say, “the team is waiting to be discovered.”

At this Easter season of new birth, it seems fitting that robins have laid eggs in nests in bushes at both ends of our porch and on the day of the party last week three of them hatched!

It's a time for new beginnings. Watch this space for updates on our adventures.



Wednesday, February 6, 2019

He walked the talk

By my desk there is a photograph of Walter T. Kenney, the former mayor of Richmond, who died in January. The portrait features on the very large printed program for a 1995 banquet honoring Kenney’s 18 years of service as a councilman. The text reads, “Politicians seldom get their just desserts, but Walter Kenney will get his tonight.”  

Rev. Dr. Paige Chargois, a lead organizer of the event, comments on the picture:“It symbolized his stature and capacity. But the measure of the man was never his height (although he stood well over 6 feet); it was, instead, the depth to which he loved Richmond which reflected in all that he lavished upon its citizens!” 

Chargois writes that Kenney’s civic concerns took him well beyond his official duties into the corners of citizens' lives that many political leaders consider not safe for their political careers. “Although Richmond's racial dilemma had been around for decades with many politicians preferring a ‘hands-off’ policy, Mayor Kenney did the opposite, including a deep dive into the work of racial reconciliation.” At his invitation, delegates from cities across the US and from 25 countries came to the former capital of the Confederacy in 1993 to launch “Healing the Heart of America: An honest conversation on race, reconciliation and responsibility.” The landmark event was jointly sponsored by the City, Hope in the Cities, and the Richmond Hill ecumenical retreat center.

Two years later I was with him when he spoke at Brooklyn Borough Hall about the Richmond community’s courage in coming together to tell the truth about our history by marking sites associated with the city’s history of slavery: “It is often the thing from which we hide that eventually wounds us – from the inside out – and such had been the case in Richmond….We did not highlight these places in an effort to hand out guilt or to vent anger. We wanted to acknowledge their existence so that we could close the door and move forward.” He continued, “The mentality of victimhood or guilt-ridden shame anchors us in inaction...Regardless of past or present injustices, we are all responsible for shaping our common future."

Walter encountered Initiatives of Change soon after joining the city council in 1977. One of the IofC network, a retired secretary invited him and his wife to tea. Walter said it was the first time he had been invited to a white home. He had worked for many years in the US Postal Service, rising to become the first African American to be elected as a national officer of United Federation of Postal Clerks AFL-CIO, and then one of Richmond’s first black councilmen. When my dad, a former trade unionist from Scotland, came to visit me in Richmond he would call on Walter who joked about being a labor leader and elected official in such an anti-union state.   

He entered politics when the city was experiencing a dramatic and sometimes tumultuous transition and as the white establishment confronted the reality of power sharing for the first time. He understood that trust is built by those who are prepared to look at their own leadership style:"If I change, if I learn how to care more deeply, or listen more intently, then I bring that to virtually everything I touch, whether it is regional discussions, the national agenda, or settling a neighborhood dispute," he once said. Henry Marsh, Richmond’s first African American mayor, said of his long-time friend and colleague, “He had no hate for anyone.”

It was Walter Kenney's inspiration to create the annual Metropolitan Richmond Day, a breakfast forum which for many years convened hundreds of representatives of non-profit organizations, corporations, local government, educational establishments, and faith communities.

At a celebration of his life, fellow church members, politicians, friends and family stressed his care and support for every individual he dealt with. As one person put it, “When he talked with you, you felt you were the only one in the room.”

His care extended to his car which, according to his family, he washed every day. When my wife and he were both serving on the IofC Board he would often pick her up in his prized Lincoln Town Car for the drive to Washington. And no day was complete without an ice cream stop!

Walter was a man of infinite grace. Shortly after losing his city council seat by just a handful of votes, I travelled with him and a few other Richmonders to Chicago where we were preparing for a national Hope in the Cities forum. Among the group was the person who had defeated him at the polls, Shirley Harvey. I will never forget the sight of Walter and Shirley sitting contentedly side by side watching sports on the airport TV monitor during a layover. Another member of the city council was in the arrival area when we flew back to Richmond. His face registered shock and disbelief as the two former political opponents exited the flight together.

After leaving office Walter continued as Richmond’s ambassador, taking Richmond’s message of healing across the US and Canada as well as to Europe. In 1996, I travelled with him to South Africa where he shared his experiences with newly elected black leaders. I also recall a meeting in Paige Chargois's home with Rajmohan Gandhi and the famed civil rights lawyer Oliver Hill. 

He was a man of deep integrity. In a loving tribute a granddaughter said, “He walked the talk. He taught us to do the right thing all the time.” His executive assistant, Cricket White, told me that on one occasion she was given an envelope said to contain damaging information about a potential political rival.  When she put the sealed package on his desk, Kenney was visibly angry and told her to destroy it immediately. 

Walter believed in the power of presence. You could always count on him to show up at an event, even if he had no official role to play. This probably accounts for the remark I heard from one elderly African American woman: “He will always be my mayor.” As his brother said, “He was a man in love with his city.”

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Hospitality of our hearts and minds

This month, Richmonders from many parts of the city celebrated twenty-five years of work for honest conversation on race, reconciliation and responsibility by the Hope in the Cities network. “It was launched in perhaps one of the worst racialized locales: Richmond, Virginia – given its Confederate history – a city that became the capital of racial contempt and enslavement with a racial war to prove it,” said Rev. Dr. Paige Chargois. “But where else in America could such work have become more significant or productive!”

Senator Tim Kaine sent a message in which he recalled his words eight years ago at the launching of my book, Trustbuilding: “Racial discrimination remains with us, and we will continue to need the help of Hope in the Cities to conquer our lesser instincts.” He wrote, “While I am saddened that this observation holds true today, I am heartened by Hope in the Cities’ work to confront our lesser instincts…This commitment has spread across the world where activists work to create more peaceful, just and equal communities.”

Recalling the first public walk through Richmond's racial history, Kaine said,"In an age of heightened bigotry, my advice to you is to keep on marching as you did twenty-five years ago."

What lies behind the depth, dynamism and durability of this movement in Richmond? The answer can be found in the lives of many of the individuals present at the celebration. In different ways, each of them made choices to step beyond their fears, pride, privilege or hurt and to reach out to those who are different. Audrey Burton, an African American community activist, told how she and her husband, Collie, built a friendship with a man they had suspected of racial bias, the senior assistant city manager, and opened their home to people of all backgrounds.  

Audrey also enlisted her friend Paige Chargois. “Hope in the Cities resonated with me for several reasons,” said Paige. “Most importantly, it had moved beyond simplistic approaches to more serious efforts of racial reconciliation. The challenge of reconciliation is brokenness. To reconcile, a relationship must be broken from its old way(s) of relating superficially – or with historical bias – then put back together in a different, healthier, and lasting way. Without disruption, the work of racial reconciliation can become superficial or placating at best, non-existent at the worst. 

“Within the work of racial reconciliation and seeking to end racism, we realized that we could expect to be wounded, offended, and diminished at times as we fought to make the work successful!”  As one of her former colleagues I can attest to some of the struggles!

The Hope in the Cities team determined that relationships were more important than projects, and over the years they have accompanied each other and many others in the wider community who needed support, often acting as silent partners without any demand for public recognition.

This accompanying role was highlighted in a letter from the chairman of Initiatives of Change USA, Alex Wise, who was chairman of the Museum of the Confederacy when he first encountered Hope in the Cities. He came to realize that “people like me were used to telling the story of the Civil War with blinkers on, and that this was contributing to the South’s racism and resistance to change.” He began to imagine a new museum where the whole story could be told from all perspectives. “Gaining the support of Hope the Cities was a key to our success.” Thanks to the trust Hope in the Cities had built, “we were able to gain a hearing and win the support of enough black opinion leaders to get the American Civil War Center at Historic Tredegar off the ground, and to help to change America’s narrative of the conflict that still shapes our nation.”

As Tim Kaine noted eight years ago, “Hope in the Cities focuses on the 'still small voice', not loud and flashy approaches, or neon signs…Listening is a lost art in this world. Hope in the Cities is creating a space where people can talk. It is incredibly important work…That listening thing is needed more than ever, and not just in racial issues."

Creating space for change requires us to create places of hospitality in our hearts and minds. For many of the Hope in the Cities founders like Audrey Burton and Paige Chargois it meant welcoming diverse groups to their homes. Hospitality means laying aside our preconceptions, bias and prejudices and learning to listen. Listen to the story of the other person, the other group; and listen to the voice of the Creator. None of the breakthroughs that have come through the efforts of Hope in the Cities could have occurred without the willingness of individuals to listen deeply to that inner voice.  

According to the historian Philip Boobbyer, Frank Buchman, the initiator of the Initiatives of Change movement which birthed Hope in the Cities, once said, “If you break the power of your instinctive actions and reactions by obeying the Spirit, you are on track.”  Susan and I have benefited recently from reading Listening to the God Who Speaks by Klaus Bochmuehl. It contains a wealth of insights about the guidance of the Spirit, which, according to St Bernard of Clairvaux, “admonishes the memory, teaches reason and moves the will.”  Bochmuehl highlights the "liberation" of listening: liberation from the "dominant cliches," the "clamoring voices of our culture," and a "return of creativity and spontaneity." Those who listen to their inner voice become "spiritual resource people, constant sources of inspiration rather than irritation." 

At this season of new birth, what could be timelier than to make our hearts and minds places of hospitality for the Spirit? I am reminded of the final verse of a carol that I wrote for our eldest son’s first Christmas:  

Tonight, across the world, ‘midst hunger, hate and war,
In each heart He’s knocking softly at the door.
Through pain and darkness there shines a light
For all mankind to share.

Top photo: Rob Corcoran and Mayor Walter Kenney in the late 90s by Karen Greisdorf. 

Sunday, September 30, 2018

The key to a new beginning

Recently I was in a retreat with colleagues in a committee leading a History & Reconciliation Initiative at St Paul’s Episcopal Church. This initiative has done ground-breaking work in uncovering and documenting the church’s central role in Richmond’s slave economy and in promoting the "Lost Cause" mythology.

We came together to assess progress and to look at the challenges facing us as we build on what we have learned. What might this mean for St Paul's and for Richmond's need for racial reconciliation and equity? We also recognized the need to strengthen our own teamwork and to do our own healing work (we are a group of capable and strong-minded personalities), and to support the necessary teambuilding and reconciliation within the congregation so that we might be an authentic model for the wider Richmond community.

We found ourselves meeting under a portrait of the late Dr Syngman Rhee, the former Moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA). in 1950, he escaped from North Korea through winter snow, joined the marines in South Korea and later  came to study at Chicago and Yale. He served as a campus minister at the University of Kentucky, marched with Martin Luther King, Jr, and devoted himself to reconciliation between North and South Korea.

Syngman was a friend and mentor. I recall him saying, “One stick does not make a strong fire. If we are going to carry on a vision for justice and peace we must learn to be a team. However brave and talented I may be, without a container or framework, compassion and commitment can become wrongly directed.”

I also remember him telling us that the most powerful lesson he learned from King was the idea that "the oppressed have the key to a new beginning.” 

He said, “This touched me deeply because I considered myself oppressed. I had turned my back on Korea." (His father had died at the hands of the communists and he never saw his mother again.) "But the oppressed have the choice of revenge or of forgiving and working for a new society for everyone.”

Teambuilding is intimately connected to forgiveness. Jean Vanier writes in Community & Growth:“A relationship is only authentic and stable when it is founded on the acceptance of weakness, on forgiveness and on the hope of growth... If we come into community without knowing that the reason we come is to discover the mystery of forgiveness, we will soon be disappointed.”

I have spent most of my working life in efforts for racial healing and justice, often in highly polarized situations. But my most challenging and painful experiences have not been in addressing conflicts around issues of race or politics but with my own team, close colleagues and friends. In some of these circumstances I felt let down, obstructed or unfairly judged. Others may have felt similarly about me. At times the stress impacted my health. Ultimately, I was always faced with the need to accept my part of the responsibility for the breakdown in trust.  

But we have long memories. Despite my decision to let go of a resentment or disappointment, there is sometimes a temptation to revisit the experience, to unpack the wound, to look at it again and to indulge in self-pity or self-justification.

Richard Rohr writes in Breathing Under Water that “to surrender ourselves to healing we have to have three spaces opened up within us – our opinionated head, our closed-down heart, and our defensive and defended body." What opinion am I unwilling to reconsider? To whom have I closed my heart? What am I defending?  

Our families, communities and nations are divided and torn apart by individuals and groups who feel oppressed, wronged or wounded. There are no winners in these cycles of blame. But as Syngman Rhee reminds us, we can all choose to be part of a new beginning.   


Sunday, August 19, 2018

Liverpool and Richmond: partners in healing


Hope in the Cities can trace its roots back to a relationship with Liverpool that began in 1983. Alfred Stocks, the city’s chief executive (city manager) and other Liverpudlians committed to the principles of Initiatives of Change invited us to bring an interracial group from Richmond to meet with local officials. As described in my book, Trustbuilding, Liverpool had experienced the Toxteth riots just two years earlier and was also still recovering from vicious political warfare after Trotskyites had taken control of the city council and had bankrupt the city as a protest to Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s policies. In this polarized atmosphere Alfred Stocks was one of the few people trusted by all sides. 

The Richmond group had never worked together before and there was a history of deep distrust among several members. But a remarkable transformation took place during that shared experience in Liverpool. As one person said, “We came back a team.”

Over the years the relationship with Liverpool grew. In 1993 Gerald and Judith Henderson came to Richmond for three months to help with preparations for the landmark "Healing the Heart of America" conference, which included Richmond first “walk through history” and the inauguration of what is now the historic Slave Trail.

This month we spent two days with the Hendersons. Liverpool has changed greatly since the 1980s. It is far more international. In 2008 it was declared Europe’s “Capital of Culture.” A remarkable slavery museum tells the story of Liverpool’s leading role in the transatlantic trade. It was during a visit there that my colleague Tee Turner met John Franklin, a cultural historian and senior manager at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture. John has become a close collaborator with Hope in the Cities.

An hour’s drive from the city we visited the home and workshop of the sculptor Stephen Broadbent who specializes in public art. He remodeled Bridge Street in Warrington with a "River of Life" following a bomb blast that killed two young boys. His "Reconciliation Statue" stands in Richmond’s Shockoe Bottom, site of the former slave market. Stephen and an official delegation from Liverpool were present in Richmond in 2007 for the unveiling.

We also visited Hope University, Europe’s only ecumenical university, which has grown dramatically under the dynamic leadership of Gerald Pillay, the vice-chancellor and rector. I first met Pillay in South Africa in 1995 when he was teaching at the University of South Africa in Pretoria. His forebears were brought from India to the British Colony of Natal. He told the Guardian newspaper: “One of the powerful ways that people like us could articulate the liberation story was through theology, because in South Africa theology was a living discipline, not an ivory-tower discipline...Theology and my interest in Gandhi drew me into the promotion of equity and change.”  He has carried this same philosophy to his work in Liverpool. Impressively, 98 percent of graduate students were employed or further education six month after graduating.

Pillay invited Initiatives of Change to help develop a "School for Changemakers" on the campus. During a previous visit in 2011, I led a lively discussion and a trustbuilding workshop with students. 

Sadly, Gerald was in South Africa when we visited this time as his mother was very ill, but his wife, Nirri, a law professor, showed us the immaculate campus. She joined us for lunch with Omnia Marzouk, a distinguished doctor recently retired from a senior management role at the UK's busiest children’s emergency department. Omnia's family is from Egypt and her father was ambassador to Australia where she spent her teenage years and studied medicine. She has served as President of IofC International and we have worked together on many projects over the years. 

The Liverpool-Richmond relationship is an example of friendships and partnerships that have endured over many decades and the unique global network of trust that is Initiatives of Change.