May. 6th, 2019

pegkerr: (I told no lies and of the truth all I co)
I had a busy weekend: Synod Assembly was this past Friday and Saturday and May Day was Sunday. On Saturday I checked Twitter at one slow point--and I was moved to tears to learn of the death of Rachel Held Evans, a writer I'd followed and admired.
Rachel Held Evans, a well-known Christian blogger, author, and joyful troublemaker online, died on Saturday from massive brain swelling after being hospitalized for an infection, according to her family. She was 37. Evans leaves behind two little kids, a husband, and four books to her name. Her death has been met with an up-swelling of grief and appreciation from loyal readers, famous pastors who sparred with her, and, especially, young people who saw her as a mentor.
Read more.

I hadn't read Rachel's books (an omission I intend to address; I downloaded Searching for Sunday today) but I followed her on Twitter. She was an ex-Evangelical who had grappled with doubt, which I have a close and personal relationship with, too. She was troubled by her church's treatment of marginalized people. She eventually left the Evangelical movement in which she had been raised because she objected to their treatment of LGBTQ people, among other things. She was kind and generous. The Twitter hashtag #BecauseofRHE offers quite an insight into her influence: many LGBTQ people said that they were alive because of she gave them hope, a belief that they were not the evil degenerates that their churches had convinced them they were. Many women asserted that they were in seminary or were now pastors because she affirmed that women could have a calling to be leaders in church, too. Rachel paid attention to civil rights, speaking out in support of Black Lives Matter, and many people of color spoke up, too, remembering her kindness, her determination to use her privilege to speak out in their support. They also appreciated that when she spoke out, she would use her platform to give the microphone back to people of color; she amplified their voices rather than calling attention to herself.

Authors told stories about how she would highlight their maiden efforts on her blog or send them notes of encouragement. She networked to support others, starting conferences for progressive Christians, and she gave many Christian writers their start, introducing them to other writers, agents and editors. Even the conservatives she sparred with online--and she never hesitated to wade in, yet she kept herself from descending into meanness--were stunned by her death and have added their voices to the outpouring of sorrow at her passing.

Following RHE on Twitter was good for me. She put into words a lot of the conclusions I'd come to when I was researching Wild Swans about LGBTQ rights, and she consistently pointed out other authors I should follow, other voices on Twitter to whom I should listen. In my frustration and my anger at political events, I have sometimes resorted to the slam and the snark, but she modeled better behavior.

It's just so damned unfair. I will miss her voice terribly.

May Day

May. 6th, 2019 08:49 pm
pegkerr: (The worthies of Bree will be discussing)
This past Sunday, Fiona and I went to the May Day parade put on by the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theater. To my great grief, this may be the last one. HOTB, like many mid-sized art organizations, is having trouble raising funds, and they have laid off their entire staff. Putting on the May Day Parade and Tree ceremony costs approximately $200,000, and they didn't get a $130,000 grant they had expected to get. They may have to close their doors, although the City of Minneapolis is trying to figure out if the organization can be saved. Attempts to get another organization to help bear the cost have not borne fruit so far.

I deliberately didn't take pictures this year--I wanted to experience the parade without a camera in front of my face this time. You can see a lot of pictures online, however--[personal profile] naomikritzer has a great Twitter thread with a lot of pictures here.

There were two points of the parade that brought me to tears: one was a "wall" made up of sections of cardboard "concrete blocks" that interlocked. It was being pushed along by men dressed up in work uniforms with tools and hard hats. A few cardboard blocks lay in the street and nearby children knocked them down and the men kept piling them up again. Suddenly, at some signal that I couldn't see, about fifty children left the crowd from both sides of the street, raced to the wall and knocked it down into rubble in the street. [personal profile] naomikritzer's picture below:

Cardboard "wall" at Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theater May Day parade.

The other was the Tree of Life being wheeled along by its accompanying marchers, dressed in white. The Tree was draped in black. I knew that in about an hour, the tree would rise again at the side of the lake, but right now, seeing the Tree roll by, draped in black, it was hard not to remember that this would probably be the last parade. It felt like a death. I know that the point is that the seed falls to the earth and dies so that new life can rise out of the earth every spring. But I'm still a relatively new widow mourning my husband, and things come to an end and change is hard. The Tree draped in black smote my heart in a new way.

After the parade, Fiona and I made our way over to Powderhorn Park to join the Minn-stf picnic and watch the Sun progress over the lake to join the ceremony at the opposite end. The Minn-stf gathering was smaller this year, and we didn't stay much past the ceremony. I was bushed from the weekend of running Synod Assembly. I fell asleep on the couch at 8:00 p.m.

Profile

pegkerr: (Default)
pegkerr

July 2025

S M T W T F S
  123 45
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Peg Kerr, Author

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags