Our granddaughter Lucy was baptized on May 19 in New York. It was a wonderful ceremony featuring a booming organ, a full-throated choir, and an abundance of incense. Lucy took a keen interest in all the activities. She is a delight: gorgeous red hair, a mischievous smile, a curious mind, a happy temperament, and a strong will. Although she is not talking yet it is already obvious that she will have lots to say!
Almost as fun as watching Lucy is watching our son Neil as a father. I know that he and his wife, Eloise, are going to be terrific parents. This month I have been thinking of my own parents, who celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on May 14, 1998, just one year before my mother died. Lucy is named after her.
My mother’s distinctive laugh could be heard across a crowded room. Although often in pain in her later years I never once heard her complain. She radiated welcome to any who entered her home. My (usually) optimistic nature is – I am sure – inherited from her.
My dad came from a working class background in Scotland, quite different from that of my mother whose father was a businessman in London. His lifelong passion for social justice, which burned strong all his 97 years, inspired my own work for racial healing and equity. Together, their greatest legacy to me was the belief that God has a design for the world and that every person can find his or her part in it. On their golden wedding anniversary I wrote a song for them and I share it now in tribute to them:
In a world of broken promises and houses built on sand,
Some people never seem to doubt the rock on which they stand.
So let me introduce two friends who have that quality
Of people who are living life the way it’s meant to be.
Oh what a pair! They have dare, they have flair!
Folks like this bring hope everywhere.
With faith and commitment, they've got the equipment
To build a love for everyone to share.
A Scotsman and English lass together found their dream,
Their bold creative spirits like two strongly flowing streams,
And as they came together, the sparkle you could see
Of people who are living life the way it's meant to be.
And as the years go rolling by they know where they belong,
In times of joy and times of sorrow keep each other strong.
And they have taught a simple truth that means the world to me
These people who are living live the way it’s meant to be.
Oh what a pair! They have dare, they have flair!
Folks like this bring hope everywhere.
With faith and commitment, they've got the equipment
To build a love for everyone to share.
© Copyright 1998 Rob Corcoran
Thank you Mum and Dad!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
Reintegrating lives through story
“Our brains are wired for story,” says Gail Christopher, vice president for program strategy at the W.K. Kellogg Foundation. "Hearing a story changes you forever even if you don't want it to," says Lewis Mehl-Madrona of the Clinical Psychology Program at the Union Institute and University.
The power of storytelling in our personal lives and its impact on policy was the common thread for a three-day conference last month in Asheville, North Carolina. Racial healing practitioners, advocates, academics, and leaders of major civil rights organizations gathered for "Reclaiming the narrative," the third annual America Healing conference convened by the Kellogg Foundation as part of its racial equity program.
According to Gail Christopher, the theme was chosen “to acknowledge the glaring omission of the stories of our nation’s collective history and the impact of that omission on today’s national narrative….(and) to open the door and share the untold stories to create a richer and more reflective narrative of our collective human experiences.”
As in previous years, we spent the first day in "healing groups" led by 40 experienced racial healing practitioners. I partnered with Carol Babelle of the Ashé Cultural Arts Center in New Orleans in facilitating one group. We all remarked on the depth of personal sharing. Civil rights activist Myrlie Evers-Williams opened the day with a moving reflection. “America has a lot of healing to do,” she said, noting that hate erodes the spirit.
On the second full day the conference heard stories of systemic barriers to equality in education, health care, and criminal justice – and how they can be overcome. Especially striking was the growing sense of common cause between African Americans and Latinos and people of other ethnicities as the country approaches landmark immigration legislation. One person said, “If we can come together and succeed on this issue we can go on to address other issues.” But as Ben Jealous of the NAACP cautioned, “If our new majority does not have a vision for poor whites we are never going to get there.”
I was fascinated by a panel on the final morning on the power of storytelling to impact the health of individuals and communities. Lewis Mehl-Madrona said, “The fiction of race has imprinted itself on our bodies.” But stories can also have a healing effect. According to Wayne Jonas, a professor of family medicine at Georgetown University who heads the Samulie Institute which supports scientific research into the healing process, “reintegration with the past” results in enhanced immune systems and better overall health.
Jonas, a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Medical Corps with the U.S. Army, has conducted research on Marines suffering from post-traumatic stress. He says, “We have a medical system that almost entirely focuses on cure and says let healing happen on its own.”
According to medical research, the very act of telling our stories to others or even to ourselves can have a measurable positive therapeutic impact. It is also the case that our communities can reintegrate themselves as we learn to tell our different stories.
Some of the important take-aways for me:
“We must learn to love ourselves and to extend that love to all other human beings in the overcoming of racism.”
The power of storytelling in our personal lives and its impact on policy was the common thread for a three-day conference last month in Asheville, North Carolina. Racial healing practitioners, advocates, academics, and leaders of major civil rights organizations gathered for "Reclaiming the narrative," the third annual America Healing conference convened by the Kellogg Foundation as part of its racial equity program.
According to Gail Christopher, the theme was chosen “to acknowledge the glaring omission of the stories of our nation’s collective history and the impact of that omission on today’s national narrative….(and) to open the door and share the untold stories to create a richer and more reflective narrative of our collective human experiences.”
As in previous years, we spent the first day in "healing groups" led by 40 experienced racial healing practitioners. I partnered with Carol Babelle of the Ashé Cultural Arts Center in New Orleans in facilitating one group. We all remarked on the depth of personal sharing. Civil rights activist Myrlie Evers-Williams opened the day with a moving reflection. “America has a lot of healing to do,” she said, noting that hate erodes the spirit.
On the second full day the conference heard stories of systemic barriers to equality in education, health care, and criminal justice – and how they can be overcome. Especially striking was the growing sense of common cause between African Americans and Latinos and people of other ethnicities as the country approaches landmark immigration legislation. One person said, “If we can come together and succeed on this issue we can go on to address other issues.” But as Ben Jealous of the NAACP cautioned, “If our new majority does not have a vision for poor whites we are never going to get there.”
I was fascinated by a panel on the final morning on the power of storytelling to impact the health of individuals and communities. Lewis Mehl-Madrona said, “The fiction of race has imprinted itself on our bodies.” But stories can also have a healing effect. According to Wayne Jonas, a professor of family medicine at Georgetown University who heads the Samulie Institute which supports scientific research into the healing process, “reintegration with the past” results in enhanced immune systems and better overall health.
Jonas, a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Medical Corps with the U.S. Army, has conducted research on Marines suffering from post-traumatic stress. He says, “We have a medical system that almost entirely focuses on cure and says let healing happen on its own.”
According to medical research, the very act of telling our stories to others or even to ourselves can have a measurable positive therapeutic impact. It is also the case that our communities can reintegrate themselves as we learn to tell our different stories.
Some of the important take-aways for me:
- We need to teach people how to be quiet and listen.
- We need to discover the story behind the opinion: how did the person we are with come to hold a particular view?
- The most important narrative is the story we are constantly telling ourselves.
- It is hard to reconcile the need for storytelling with the media focus on 140 characters!
“We must learn to love ourselves and to extend that love to all other human beings in the overcoming of racism.”
Monday, April 29, 2013
A portrait of grace and courage
Last week Susan and I saw the movie '42.' It is the story of Jackie Robinson who, in 1947, became the first African American to play Major League Baseball.
If you want to see a story of courage, grace and persistence, this is the film for you. The narrative is compelling and the cast is outstanding.
Chadwick Boseman is entirely convincing as Robinson. He obviously studied Robison's trademark base-stealing runs, and his portrayal of dignity under virulent and unrelenting abuse on and off the field cannot fail to move. Equally touching is the quiet but unflinching support of his wife, Rachel, played by Nicole Beharie. In today's era of fallen sports heroes it is nice to see such integrity in professional and family life.
Harrison Ford is perfectly cast as Branch Rickey, the executive who signed Robinson for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Rickey was a religious man ("God is a Methodist") who takes his faith seriously. He tells baseball commissioner Happy Chandler, who is resisting Rickey's effort to break the color bar, "One of these days, you’re going to meet your maker, and God’s going to ask you why you didn’t let Jackie Robinson play baseball, and you’re going to have to say, ‘because he was black,’ and that might not be a sufficient answer."
But as a shrewd businessman, Rickey also understands the fundamental truth that money is green, not black or white. Racism is not just evil, it is an economic loser.
Anyone who thinks racism was confined to the Deep South will be startled by the unvarnished portrayal of prejudice in New York, Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. A teammate confides to Robinson his nervousness about playing in Cincinnati so close to his home state of Kentucky. But as the crowd boos and shouts racial epithets he walks across the field and puts an arm around Robinson's shoulder: his family is in the stands and he wants them to see.
One cannot see '42' and not draw some parallels with Obama's experience two generations later. Although the disrespect is now cloaked in questions about citizenship and religion rather than an overt racial attack, the underlying strategy is the same. Its particular cowardice lies in the knowledge that the target cannot respond in anger.
We saw '42' in a packed movie house with a diverse and multi-generational audience in Richmond, Virginia. At the end everyone applauded.
If you want to see a story of courage, grace and persistence, this is the film for you. The narrative is compelling and the cast is outstanding.
Chadwick Boseman is entirely convincing as Robinson. He obviously studied Robison's trademark base-stealing runs, and his portrayal of dignity under virulent and unrelenting abuse on and off the field cannot fail to move. Equally touching is the quiet but unflinching support of his wife, Rachel, played by Nicole Beharie. In today's era of fallen sports heroes it is nice to see such integrity in professional and family life.
Harrison Ford is perfectly cast as Branch Rickey, the executive who signed Robinson for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Rickey was a religious man ("God is a Methodist") who takes his faith seriously. He tells baseball commissioner Happy Chandler, who is resisting Rickey's effort to break the color bar, "One of these days, you’re going to meet your maker, and God’s going to ask you why you didn’t let Jackie Robinson play baseball, and you’re going to have to say, ‘because he was black,’ and that might not be a sufficient answer."
But as a shrewd businessman, Rickey also understands the fundamental truth that money is green, not black or white. Racism is not just evil, it is an economic loser.
Anyone who thinks racism was confined to the Deep South will be startled by the unvarnished portrayal of prejudice in New York, Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. A teammate confides to Robinson his nervousness about playing in Cincinnati so close to his home state of Kentucky. But as the crowd boos and shouts racial epithets he walks across the field and puts an arm around Robinson's shoulder: his family is in the stands and he wants them to see.
One cannot see '42' and not draw some parallels with Obama's experience two generations later. Although the disrespect is now cloaked in questions about citizenship and religion rather than an overt racial attack, the underlying strategy is the same. Its particular cowardice lies in the knowledge that the target cannot respond in anger.
We saw '42' in a packed movie house with a diverse and multi-generational audience in Richmond, Virginia. At the end everyone applauded.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Notes from Punta Cana
We disembark in bright sunshine and walk towards the welcoming thatched roofs of the Punta Cana airport in the Dominican Republic. A chaotic scene unfolds inside as five flights have arrived almost simultaneously from the US and Canada and there appears to be only two functioning staff at the immigration desks. A long line snakes slowly through the airport under the thatched roof and ceiling fans. Time takes on a different dimension.
A large and obnoxious American in line behind us loses patience. "Who the hell's in charge here?" he shouts (in English).
After a few anxious minutes searching through the many hundreds of bags we find ours standing alone by the airline desk – perhaps someone has taken it by mistake and returned it to this spot.
As we drive into town we chat with our cheerful driver. He ran his own business until the economic downturn. Now he runs a cab for the real estate company and hopes for better days.
Along the road, in between the many beautiful all-inclusive resorts, there are quite a number of half-finished constructions, evidence of a tourist-driven real estate frenzy which has stalled.
Our "home away" condo is part of a quiet and attractive development just ten minutes walk from the beach. This walk requires negotiating a road full of buses, vans, scooters, mopeds and motor bikes (the favored form of taxi). The sidewalk is under construction which makes the short journey an adventure.
We make our daily base camp on the beach in front of a restaurant away from the main resort areas. The owner supplies us with Dominican food of red beans, rice, and goat – enough for two meals. By the end of the week he says we have become friends for life. Along with dinners of paella and seafood we get special side dishes and small shots of Mama Juana, a Dominican concoction of rum, red wine and honey(to aid digestion!) Our waiter says he spent 19 years in Toronto. We agree that the weather here is better.
After many entreaties from the owner of the neighboring gift shop we purchase a necklace and a carving. The manager says next time we are to visit his home in Santo Domingo. His daughter is in the US.
Slightly removed from the resort area we are able to get some glimpse of everyday life. The tourist industry has generated considerable employment. Many have come from Haiti, an eight-hour bus journey, to find work here.
Relations between the countries have been strained for many years. Haiti occupied the Dominican Republic for two decades in the 19th century and Dominicans still celebrate their independence from Haiti as well as that from Spain. In 1937 Dictator Rafael Trujillo ordered the killing by Dominican troops of thousands of Haitians living and working in the border areas. Their bodies were thrown in the aptly named Massacre River. The history of the massacre was largely ignored until last year when members of the Haitian and Dominican diasporas living in the US led a ceremony at the border to remember the massacre and address its legacy. Hundreds of Dominicans and Haitians met on opposite sides of the river and floated candles in the water.
Yet prejudice remains. Recent policy changes have classified Dominicans of Haitian descent as foreigners rather than citizens. One observer writes of a “deep-seated racism in Dominican society which affects dark-skinned people in general and Haitians and Dominico-Haitians in particular.”
It is interesting to see how tourists interact with the local population. Some national groups have gained a reputation for rudeness. When the sun goes down and the Europeans and North Americans retreat to their all-inclusive resorts, we see the Dominicans enjoy the beach and the water. Our days here are too short for anything but superficial impressions. But we are glad to connect with a few people and to discover something of the warmth, hospitality, and humor of this country. We are sorry we don’t speak enough Spanish to discover more.
A large and obnoxious American in line behind us loses patience. "Who the hell's in charge here?" he shouts (in English).
After a few anxious minutes searching through the many hundreds of bags we find ours standing alone by the airline desk – perhaps someone has taken it by mistake and returned it to this spot.
As we drive into town we chat with our cheerful driver. He ran his own business until the economic downturn. Now he runs a cab for the real estate company and hopes for better days.
Along the road, in between the many beautiful all-inclusive resorts, there are quite a number of half-finished constructions, evidence of a tourist-driven real estate frenzy which has stalled.
Our "home away" condo is part of a quiet and attractive development just ten minutes walk from the beach. This walk requires negotiating a road full of buses, vans, scooters, mopeds and motor bikes (the favored form of taxi). The sidewalk is under construction which makes the short journey an adventure.
We make our daily base camp on the beach in front of a restaurant away from the main resort areas. The owner supplies us with Dominican food of red beans, rice, and goat – enough for two meals. By the end of the week he says we have become friends for life. Along with dinners of paella and seafood we get special side dishes and small shots of Mama Juana, a Dominican concoction of rum, red wine and honey(to aid digestion!) Our waiter says he spent 19 years in Toronto. We agree that the weather here is better.
After many entreaties from the owner of the neighboring gift shop we purchase a necklace and a carving. The manager says next time we are to visit his home in Santo Domingo. His daughter is in the US.
Slightly removed from the resort area we are able to get some glimpse of everyday life. The tourist industry has generated considerable employment. Many have come from Haiti, an eight-hour bus journey, to find work here.
Relations between the countries have been strained for many years. Haiti occupied the Dominican Republic for two decades in the 19th century and Dominicans still celebrate their independence from Haiti as well as that from Spain. In 1937 Dictator Rafael Trujillo ordered the killing by Dominican troops of thousands of Haitians living and working in the border areas. Their bodies were thrown in the aptly named Massacre River. The history of the massacre was largely ignored until last year when members of the Haitian and Dominican diasporas living in the US led a ceremony at the border to remember the massacre and address its legacy. Hundreds of Dominicans and Haitians met on opposite sides of the river and floated candles in the water.
Yet prejudice remains. Recent policy changes have classified Dominicans of Haitian descent as foreigners rather than citizens. One observer writes of a “deep-seated racism in Dominican society which affects dark-skinned people in general and Haitians and Dominico-Haitians in particular.”
It is interesting to see how tourists interact with the local population. Some national groups have gained a reputation for rudeness. When the sun goes down and the Europeans and North Americans retreat to their all-inclusive resorts, we see the Dominicans enjoy the beach and the water. Our days here are too short for anything but superficial impressions. But we are glad to connect with a few people and to discover something of the warmth, hospitality, and humor of this country. We are sorry we don’t speak enough Spanish to discover more.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
A time for courage
In 1974, a landmark decision by
the US Supreme Court (Milliken v Bradley)
allowed suburban schools in Detroit, Michigan, to be protected from a
metropolitan desegregation plan. It set the pattern for a national trend that
enabled local jurisdictions to act as “racial Berlin walls,” according to Tom
Pettigrew, a leading researcher and social psychologist.
Forty years later, a bankruptcy lawyer has been appointed by the state of Michigan as an unelected emergency manager for Detroit, which experienced a 25 percent population drop in the past decade and is facing daunting financial challenges. A higher percentage of children live in poverty than in any other large city in America.
Detroit is a graphic example of the interaction of race and poverty and it demonstrates what many urban experts tell us: fragmented metropolitan regions do not thrive. It is impossible to build a healthy region with a deeply segregated school system.
Last month Gary Orfield, co-director of the Civil Rights Project at UCLA and a prolific author on the topic of school segregation, was in Richmond, Va, to kick off “Looking Back, Moving Forward: a Conference on Race, Class, Opportunity, and School Boundaries in the Richmond Region.”
Like Detroit, the Richmond region resisted school integration and a Supreme Court decision struck down the proposed merger between city and surrounding county systems. Today the once largely white counties have a vastly more diverse population and there is a growing tendency to re-segregate by race and class within school districts.
“We have never had a long-term commitment to integration except in a few places like the US Army,” said Orfield. One of his core arguments for integration is that “if you concentrate disadvantage in schools, you create machines to perpetuate poverty.”
Case studies from several cities (Louisville, Hartford, and Omaha) provided some hopeful pointers. Suggestions for Richmond included cross-jurisdictional magnet schools; a regional dual language (English-Spanish) immersion school; or a school created by one of the universities. We also heard that citizens need to exert pressure on their elected officials at the state level.
The conference was largely driven by the conviction of Genevieve Siegel-Hawley, who teaches educational policy at Virginia Commonwealth University and who was a classmate of one of our sons in middle school. She is co-author of a new study examining school enrollment in Virginia from 1989 through 2010.
Law professor Jim Ryan noted that citizens must accept responsibility for choices they make and not look to courts or other outside forces for solutions. “It really comes down to political will.”
An example of courageous citizen action was highlighted by Richmond School Board Vice Chairman Donald Coleman. He praised some young professional couples who chose to live in the city’s east end and to enroll their young children in the local elementary school – where most of the students are black and from families below the poverty line – and are working for its success.
Four young couples, graduates of the University of Virginia, decided to live out their Christian principles and belief in community development by investing their families in northeastern Church Hill. The men had been housemates at college. Two are doctors, one a pastor and another is a financial adviser.
Romesh Wijesooriya, who is interim chief of pediatrics at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center, told the Richmond Times-Dispatch: “My greatest vision is that people with resources, people without resources, people of different racial and ethnic backgrounds, could live together and go to school together. There would be homes for old folks, student apartments, and single-family homes in the same community. Businesses would be thriving there. I get pretty pumped. There’s a ton of barriers and a ton of hurt and a lot of brokenness, but also a great potential for hope and healing.”
Richmond, like Detroit and every city in America, needs more people with this kind of vision and commitment. It’s a time for courage.
Forty years later, a bankruptcy lawyer has been appointed by the state of Michigan as an unelected emergency manager for Detroit, which experienced a 25 percent population drop in the past decade and is facing daunting financial challenges. A higher percentage of children live in poverty than in any other large city in America.
Detroit is a graphic example of the interaction of race and poverty and it demonstrates what many urban experts tell us: fragmented metropolitan regions do not thrive. It is impossible to build a healthy region with a deeply segregated school system.
Last month Gary Orfield, co-director of the Civil Rights Project at UCLA and a prolific author on the topic of school segregation, was in Richmond, Va, to kick off “Looking Back, Moving Forward: a Conference on Race, Class, Opportunity, and School Boundaries in the Richmond Region.”
Like Detroit, the Richmond region resisted school integration and a Supreme Court decision struck down the proposed merger between city and surrounding county systems. Today the once largely white counties have a vastly more diverse population and there is a growing tendency to re-segregate by race and class within school districts.
“We have never had a long-term commitment to integration except in a few places like the US Army,” said Orfield. One of his core arguments for integration is that “if you concentrate disadvantage in schools, you create machines to perpetuate poverty.”
Case studies from several cities (Louisville, Hartford, and Omaha) provided some hopeful pointers. Suggestions for Richmond included cross-jurisdictional magnet schools; a regional dual language (English-Spanish) immersion school; or a school created by one of the universities. We also heard that citizens need to exert pressure on their elected officials at the state level.
The conference was largely driven by the conviction of Genevieve Siegel-Hawley, who teaches educational policy at Virginia Commonwealth University and who was a classmate of one of our sons in middle school. She is co-author of a new study examining school enrollment in Virginia from 1989 through 2010.
Law professor Jim Ryan noted that citizens must accept responsibility for choices they make and not look to courts or other outside forces for solutions. “It really comes down to political will.”
An example of courageous citizen action was highlighted by Richmond School Board Vice Chairman Donald Coleman. He praised some young professional couples who chose to live in the city’s east end and to enroll their young children in the local elementary school – where most of the students are black and from families below the poverty line – and are working for its success.
Four young couples, graduates of the University of Virginia, decided to live out their Christian principles and belief in community development by investing their families in northeastern Church Hill. The men had been housemates at college. Two are doctors, one a pastor and another is a financial adviser.
Romesh Wijesooriya, who is interim chief of pediatrics at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center, told the Richmond Times-Dispatch: “My greatest vision is that people with resources, people without resources, people of different racial and ethnic backgrounds, could live together and go to school together. There would be homes for old folks, student apartments, and single-family homes in the same community. Businesses would be thriving there. I get pretty pumped. There’s a ton of barriers and a ton of hurt and a lot of brokenness, but also a great potential for hope and healing.”
Richmond, like Detroit and every city in America, needs more people with this kind of vision and commitment. It’s a time for courage.
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