Never forget
Twenty years later, as we each reinforce and revise our memories from that terrible September day, let us be truthful and also tender about what we choose to never forget.
Goshen College President Rebecca Stoltzfus offers regular and intimate reflections on campus, interesting people she’s met, conversations she’s part of and higher education today.
Email her: president@goshen.edu
Twenty years later, as we each reinforce and revise our memories from that terrible September day, let us be truthful and also tender about what we choose to never forget.
I ended my last blog with the question: how would Goshen College be different if we were more truly centered in robust and productive engagement across lines of difference? I suggest we need to become more intentional about three things: security, curiosity and nonviolent communication.
We have become afraid of deep differences because they too often manifest in words or other expressions that cause pain — wittingly or unwittingly. I submit that it is not our visible differences (race or ethnicity or gender per se) that inflict pain or cause anxiety. It is our viewpoints and how we express them.
During this Pride Month, we at Goshen College celebrate the lives, love and impact of our LGBTQIA+ students, employees and alumni.
Thankfully, COVID transmission is finally much lower. Oddly, amidst all of the happiness and relief, this transition to the next stage of the pandemic is surprisingly hard. The adrenaline is gone, and I feel exhausted by the past year of events.
In 1983, when I was a student at GC, I wrote my senior paper on the topic of gender. That was three years after Dolly Parton, Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin overthrew their male boss in the movie "9 to 5." Things have changed! But gender is every bit as important today, and for some new reasons.
In the midst of the heartbreak, tensions and tedium of the pandemic, I am alert to the changes happening within myself and in our society that may form the lasting legacies of this time. Some of these are causes for hope.
The past year has, among other things, made me question how well I know my country and its foundations.
The word I’ve kept circling back to is “Grounded.” 2020 knocked me around. I want to stand this year with two feet on the ground, knees slightly bent. I want to feel the earth supporting me; to know the firm and gentle force of gravity. I want to be steady.
I am in need of a Sabbath Christmas. Maybe you are too. Here is my wish for all of us in this December of 2020.