Posts
Editorial: Without Sanctuary
By Le Anne Clausen
(published in the Hyde Park Seminarian, Feb. 28, 2007)
In 2005, I worked with the McCormick/LSTC joint Summer Language Institute, an intensive ESL and cultural orientation program for international students on both campuses. It was a great program--formed around dialogical education, art projects, devotions, spoken word, field trips, research projects in Chicago’s ethnic neighborhoods, and hot topics in theological education: interfaith relations, LGBTQ equality, and racism.
It was on this last topic that our group traveled to see the ‘Without Sanctuary’ exhibit at the Chicago Historical Society. This is a traveling exhibit of photographs--often made into souvenir postcards--of the public lynchings of black people our country engaged in so many times in our not-so-distant past. One of the photographs showed a family with children proudly posed in front of one such lynching victim. Others have jokes written on the postcards about the ‘barbecues,’ telling the recipient of the card what a lovely occasion they have missed.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words.
Everyone in the exhibit, surrounded by these postcards, was silent.
I keep thinking back to that exhibit, not only for our terrible history, but also for how we brought our recently-arrived international guests face to face with our shameful secrets. Welcome to America, friends: this is us.
If you would like to view the Without Sanctuary exhibit, there is a carefully-done interactive website with images and quotes: www.withoutsanctuary.org. I strongly recommend it.
This past month at CTS, the Rooks Society lifted up more images of the persecution of black people in our country--illustrations of slavery and photographs of the civil rights era so painful I could barely contain my tears. Still, it was a service not only of mourning but also hope for a better, more just future.
We struggle to deal with racism and its continuing impact on all our seminary campuses. Some of our efforts have made matters worse. LSTC and Meadville students have been active in confronting and reforming the ways in which their campuses have addressed racism. In other positive efforts, the McCormick Herald newspaper has lifted up Black History month through a special poetry section (partly reprinted here). CTU sponsored a Black History Cinema the past several Fridays. Although Black History Month is coming to a close, our work to bring justice and reconciliation ought not be. To do otherwise is to build false sanctuaries and continue the worship of lies.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
They Squashed My Statue
They squashed my statue at the Hyde Park Art Center.
The one I wrote about in the post 'arthappiness,' below.
The one I only left because they said it was so good that they would make an exception for me and fire it in the kiln.
The one I left my address card next to, just in case they changed their mind.
The kiln keeper did not seem like a terribly friendly sort of guy.
Oh well. At least I still have the photos.
There will be more clay.
The one I wrote about in the post 'arthappiness,' below.
The one I only left because they said it was so good that they would make an exception for me and fire it in the kiln.
The one I left my address card next to, just in case they changed their mind.
The kiln keeper did not seem like a terribly friendly sort of guy.
Oh well. At least I still have the photos.
There will be more clay.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ash Wednesday
Editorial for the CTS Prophet
Colliding Thoughts in the First Week of Lent
Ash Wednesday, 2004. My colleagues and I with the Christian Peacemaker Team in Iraq began a Lenten fast and public vigil in the middle of Baghdad. We held poster-size photos of the Iraqi citizens we knew had ‘disappeared’ in U.S. custody. We told their stories and the stories of countless other Iraqi prisoners and their families to anyone who would listen. It was the only thing left we could think to do to make anyone care. All our months of investigation, our reports, our appeals to U.S. Congresspersons and the U.S. media had fallen on deaf ears. We did not know that several weeks later, a soldier would himself produce the photos that would mean no one could deny any longer the reality of Abu Ghraib.
Within the week, I would be witness to a massive suicide bombing, at the Khadimiya Shi’a shrine in Baghdad, on the Shi’a festival of Ashura--commemo-rating the martyrdom of Hussein, grandson of Moham-med. I remember the bodies everywhere. I remember the three-story high spray of blood on the gates of the shrine. I remember the high-pitched cry of a man in the minarret crying, ‘Allahu Akbar!’ --God is greater, greater beyond all this.
Ash Wednesdays, and Lenten seasons, have become seasons of remembering. For me they are filled with anniversary dates of friends killed or taken hostage and carnage witnessed; of bombing campaigns and tank invasions; of waiting in bomb shelters or the safety of friend’s homes for lethal force to pass. It is a season for me marked with the colors of red and black: Ashes on foreheads and wine poured in Eucharist. Smoke in the air and blood in the streets.
Lent has become a season of being desperate for the sanctuary of worship space--whether traveling for hours over the back roads to the church in Jerusalem during a siege of the West Bank, or walking two blocks in Baghdad during the start of the hostage crisis to St. Rafael’s on Sunday afternoon, or as a safe zone last year in a different seminary, where the days were too often filled with pain and fear as well.
But, now we return to our prime-time programming: I caught the latest episode of ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ the drama about medical students on residency. This time the students were haphazardly practicing their triage skills when they are suddenly called to respond to a disaster--with their little emergency kits and seemingly little preparation, they get in the ambulances and race to the scene. A ferry, full of passengers, has crashed. Bodies everywhere. Smoke in the air and blood in the streets. High-pitched cries of those who don’t know what else to do. The rest of the show followed each one as they tried to survive and make decisions in the face of overwhelming events--and what in that mess be-came most important, the human connections.
It got me thinking.
The next day I went to our first-year students’ retreat and heard friends admitting the strain of this spring term already, feeling unprepared to meet the demands, feeling like fall term was so easy in comparison. Similarly, in the last Academic Council I heard faculty members overwhelmed with the sheer number of tasks to complete in the coming weeks.
How often have I felt ill-equipped and ill-prepared in the face of overwhelming events, uncertain of the future? How often have you?
Somehow these disjointed thoughts and parts of life come together at Lent. At least this is what I believe.
Ash Wednesday is a time and ritual of confession--of our own weaknesses, our bewilderment, our limita-tions, our recognition of our own mortality. It is a time of remembering the stories of our faith. It is a ritual of receiving God’s grace and wearing the marks of peni-tence on our foreheads. It ushers in the season of Lent--a season of reflection, discipline, waiting, and preparation. Who knows what we shall be called upon to do? Can we meet the demands of our lives and the calling of our faith even a fraction as well as the One who went to meet the cross? Or can we at least take comfort in knowing the One who met the cross loves us regardless of how inadequate we feel?
This is our time and season, given to us as God’s gift. Wherever we are and whatever lies before us between now and our Resurrection-times, it is for us. It is a gift of time to remember and to mourn. It gives us space to breathe and heal and be made whole.
Peace,
Le Anne
Colliding Thoughts in the First Week of Lent
Ash Wednesday, 2004. My colleagues and I with the Christian Peacemaker Team in Iraq began a Lenten fast and public vigil in the middle of Baghdad. We held poster-size photos of the Iraqi citizens we knew had ‘disappeared’ in U.S. custody. We told their stories and the stories of countless other Iraqi prisoners and their families to anyone who would listen. It was the only thing left we could think to do to make anyone care. All our months of investigation, our reports, our appeals to U.S. Congresspersons and the U.S. media had fallen on deaf ears. We did not know that several weeks later, a soldier would himself produce the photos that would mean no one could deny any longer the reality of Abu Ghraib.
Within the week, I would be witness to a massive suicide bombing, at the Khadimiya Shi’a shrine in Baghdad, on the Shi’a festival of Ashura--commemo-rating the martyrdom of Hussein, grandson of Moham-med. I remember the bodies everywhere. I remember the three-story high spray of blood on the gates of the shrine. I remember the high-pitched cry of a man in the minarret crying, ‘Allahu Akbar!’ --God is greater, greater beyond all this.
Ash Wednesdays, and Lenten seasons, have become seasons of remembering. For me they are filled with anniversary dates of friends killed or taken hostage and carnage witnessed; of bombing campaigns and tank invasions; of waiting in bomb shelters or the safety of friend’s homes for lethal force to pass. It is a season for me marked with the colors of red and black: Ashes on foreheads and wine poured in Eucharist. Smoke in the air and blood in the streets.
Lent has become a season of being desperate for the sanctuary of worship space--whether traveling for hours over the back roads to the church in Jerusalem during a siege of the West Bank, or walking two blocks in Baghdad during the start of the hostage crisis to St. Rafael’s on Sunday afternoon, or as a safe zone last year in a different seminary, where the days were too often filled with pain and fear as well.
But, now we return to our prime-time programming: I caught the latest episode of ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ the drama about medical students on residency. This time the students were haphazardly practicing their triage skills when they are suddenly called to respond to a disaster--with their little emergency kits and seemingly little preparation, they get in the ambulances and race to the scene. A ferry, full of passengers, has crashed. Bodies everywhere. Smoke in the air and blood in the streets. High-pitched cries of those who don’t know what else to do. The rest of the show followed each one as they tried to survive and make decisions in the face of overwhelming events--and what in that mess be-came most important, the human connections.
It got me thinking.
The next day I went to our first-year students’ retreat and heard friends admitting the strain of this spring term already, feeling unprepared to meet the demands, feeling like fall term was so easy in comparison. Similarly, in the last Academic Council I heard faculty members overwhelmed with the sheer number of tasks to complete in the coming weeks.
How often have I felt ill-equipped and ill-prepared in the face of overwhelming events, uncertain of the future? How often have you?
Somehow these disjointed thoughts and parts of life come together at Lent. At least this is what I believe.
Ash Wednesday is a time and ritual of confession--of our own weaknesses, our bewilderment, our limita-tions, our recognition of our own mortality. It is a time of remembering the stories of our faith. It is a ritual of receiving God’s grace and wearing the marks of peni-tence on our foreheads. It ushers in the season of Lent--a season of reflection, discipline, waiting, and preparation. Who knows what we shall be called upon to do? Can we meet the demands of our lives and the calling of our faith even a fraction as well as the One who went to meet the cross? Or can we at least take comfort in knowing the One who met the cross loves us regardless of how inadequate we feel?
This is our time and season, given to us as God’s gift. Wherever we are and whatever lies before us between now and our Resurrection-times, it is for us. It is a gift of time to remember and to mourn. It gives us space to breathe and heal and be made whole.
Peace,
Le Anne
Friday, February 16, 2007
Why do we hate Arabs?
In the online advice column I run, I received the following question from an Arab Muslim man: "Do you think that Muslims and Arabs are hated? is Islamaphobia growing? What percent of the world hates Muslims?"
We in the U.S. are now accustomed to the question, "Why do they hate 'us,' Americans?" --even if we are not so good at responding honestly and humbly. However, I don't think we've really worked asking the question of why we hate 'them.'
I answered this man that while it is hard to quantify a sentiment such as hatred toward any group of people (without say, a carefully prepared research survey covering multiple regions of the planet), I would tend to say that Islamophobia has been steadily growing over the past decade and that there are many negative stereotypes portrayed in the media (news, plus entertainment sources) towards Arabs and/or Muslims. I think there are a few reasons for this, such as the current Middle East crises and the foreign policy stance of the U.S. government, as well as propaganda statements made by the present administration. Also, there is more awareness that Arabs and Muslims 'exist,' given the current political situation (they're 'on the radar' in the way say, Eastern Europeans and/or Communists no longer are).
--
It seems we always need to have a 'Them' to hate, in order to define or even to love and affirm our own selves. [There is a field of theology related to exploring this phenomena, known as 'Sub-Altern' (inferior-other)]. This year's Vagina Monologues also poignantly addresses this issue in the newest monologue, "Reclaiming Peace":
"We make decisions all the time. Decisions about Them. Them is always different than us. Them has no face. Them is a little bit deserving of all the bad that happens to them. Them is used to violence – it’s in their blood.
"There are rules about them. We keep them over there, out of sight, conceptual. We do not get close enough to touch or smell or know them. We do not want to see how easily we could become them -- how quickly violence arrives, how swiftly people turn, embracing racist hate. We do not want to know or touch the parts of ourselves that are capable of behaving like them."
For most Americans, who don't own passports or have regular contact with neighbors who are Muslim or Arab, it's too easy to distance ourselves from these 'Others,' and to believe our own sources of authority about who they are. It takes more work to seek others out and learn for ourselves, to build the human connections to which God calls us.
This year the Vagina Monologues calls on women of all backgrounds to work together as peacemakers and bridge the violent chasms between us. I would also like to suggest a few thought-provoking resources on stereotypes and perceptions:
Reel Bad Arabs, by Jack Sheehan, indexing the movie industry's portrayal of Arabs and Muslims
'30 Days', an FX comedy-documentary series on breaking down stereotypes on between polarized communities, including Muslims and conservative Christians. http://www.fxnetworks.com/shows/originals/30days/
You may also like to consult the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee, www.adc.org, which has great tips on expanding understanding through local education activities.
We in the U.S. are now accustomed to the question, "Why do they hate 'us,' Americans?" --even if we are not so good at responding honestly and humbly. However, I don't think we've really worked asking the question of why we hate 'them.'
I answered this man that while it is hard to quantify a sentiment such as hatred toward any group of people (without say, a carefully prepared research survey covering multiple regions of the planet), I would tend to say that Islamophobia has been steadily growing over the past decade and that there are many negative stereotypes portrayed in the media (news, plus entertainment sources) towards Arabs and/or Muslims. I think there are a few reasons for this, such as the current Middle East crises and the foreign policy stance of the U.S. government, as well as propaganda statements made by the present administration. Also, there is more awareness that Arabs and Muslims 'exist,' given the current political situation (they're 'on the radar' in the way say, Eastern Europeans and/or Communists no longer are).
--
It seems we always need to have a 'Them' to hate, in order to define or even to love and affirm our own selves. [There is a field of theology related to exploring this phenomena, known as 'Sub-Altern' (inferior-other)]. This year's Vagina Monologues also poignantly addresses this issue in the newest monologue, "Reclaiming Peace":
"We make decisions all the time. Decisions about Them. Them is always different than us. Them has no face. Them is a little bit deserving of all the bad that happens to them. Them is used to violence – it’s in their blood.
"There are rules about them. We keep them over there, out of sight, conceptual. We do not get close enough to touch or smell or know them. We do not want to see how easily we could become them -- how quickly violence arrives, how swiftly people turn, embracing racist hate. We do not want to know or touch the parts of ourselves that are capable of behaving like them."
For most Americans, who don't own passports or have regular contact with neighbors who are Muslim or Arab, it's too easy to distance ourselves from these 'Others,' and to believe our own sources of authority about who they are. It takes more work to seek others out and learn for ourselves, to build the human connections to which God calls us.
This year the Vagina Monologues calls on women of all backgrounds to work together as peacemakers and bridge the violent chasms between us. I would also like to suggest a few thought-provoking resources on stereotypes and perceptions:
Reel Bad Arabs, by Jack Sheehan, indexing the movie industry's portrayal of Arabs and Muslims
'30 Days', an FX comedy-documentary series on breaking down stereotypes on between polarized communities, including Muslims and conservative Christians. http://www.fxnetworks.com/shows/originals/30days/
You may also like to consult the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee, www.adc.org, which has great tips on expanding understanding through local education activities.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Bodies, Bodies, Bodies
Have you ever heard this military cadence?
'Throw another hand grenade,
look at what a mess I made,
Cuz all I ever want to see,
are bodies, bodies, bodies.'
It's to the tune of 'put another nickel in the nickelodeon,' which some of us know better as the theme to the Looney Tunes.
I learned this song from my dean and preaching professor in our first class together this past week; it had haunted him since he had first heard it in 1991, sung by a group of soldiers out running not far from our seminary. This was at the time the first real news of the horrors of our actions in Iraq was coming to light--how not-smart our weaponry really was, and how many civilians were dying due to the destruction of infrastructure and the sanctions.
The song and its terrible lyrics haven't been too far from my mind since. It hasn't been too far from the minds of my classmates either--I've been hearing them hum it in the hallways, and seeing them startle at realizing what they're doing. Catchy song; lyrics that capture some very uncomfortable truths. [More troubling cadences are catalogued on this blog]:
http://thegreenautomobile.blogspot.com/2006/07/hadji-girl_04.html
While the dean was preaching about this song and its impact; I was there in the room three feet away and also on the other side of the world--back in Baghdad, picturing the Iraqi bodies, bodies, bodies that I saw during my human rights work there. Thinking also how hard a time we US citizens have in admitting that our soldiers do kill, that they do commit human rights abuses. How is it that we simply cannot connect what we've done to the Iraqi people, with the atrocities that are happening there now?
You could say I'm a firm believer in contextual education. I am headed to DC in a few more weeks with a number of classmates from the six seminaries in our neighborhood of Hyde Park in Chicago. We are joining the Christian Peace Witness to Stop the War in Iraq, March 16th at the National Cathedral and at the White House overnight. We are also preparing ourselves individually and as a group for nonviolent civil disobedience. I am glad seminary students are ready to mobilize on this issue. You are welcome to join us: www.christianpeacewitness.org.
We can be co-creators in a new world and new global relationships. In the meantime, let us not forget to write new songs.
'Throw another hand grenade,
look at what a mess I made,
Cuz all I ever want to see,
are bodies, bodies, bodies.'
It's to the tune of 'put another nickel in the nickelodeon,' which some of us know better as the theme to the Looney Tunes.
I learned this song from my dean and preaching professor in our first class together this past week; it had haunted him since he had first heard it in 1991, sung by a group of soldiers out running not far from our seminary. This was at the time the first real news of the horrors of our actions in Iraq was coming to light--how not-smart our weaponry really was, and how many civilians were dying due to the destruction of infrastructure and the sanctions.
The song and its terrible lyrics haven't been too far from my mind since. It hasn't been too far from the minds of my classmates either--I've been hearing them hum it in the hallways, and seeing them startle at realizing what they're doing. Catchy song; lyrics that capture some very uncomfortable truths. [More troubling cadences are catalogued on this blog]:
http://thegreenautomobile.blogspot.com/2006/07/hadji-girl_04.html
While the dean was preaching about this song and its impact; I was there in the room three feet away and also on the other side of the world--back in Baghdad, picturing the Iraqi bodies, bodies, bodies that I saw during my human rights work there. Thinking also how hard a time we US citizens have in admitting that our soldiers do kill, that they do commit human rights abuses. How is it that we simply cannot connect what we've done to the Iraqi people, with the atrocities that are happening there now?
You could say I'm a firm believer in contextual education. I am headed to DC in a few more weeks with a number of classmates from the six seminaries in our neighborhood of Hyde Park in Chicago. We are joining the Christian Peace Witness to Stop the War in Iraq, March 16th at the National Cathedral and at the White House overnight. We are also preparing ourselves individually and as a group for nonviolent civil disobedience. I am glad seminary students are ready to mobilize on this issue. You are welcome to join us: www.christianpeacewitness.org.
We can be co-creators in a new world and new global relationships. In the meantime, let us not forget to write new songs.
arthappiness
I went to an event tonight at the Hyde Park Art Center called 'Cocktails and Clay.' Basically, it's an art class for grown-ups--you get clay and booze. They have a DJ for dancing (which I studiously avoided), and the galleries are open.
I went, because the price was right, and probably also because I like things that offer booze along with something I enjoy anyway: 'Beer and Bible' study in Jerusalem had a similar draw. Anyway, I walked in the door and was surrounded by hipsters looking, well, hip. And I had basically worn my snowpants for the mile-long trek. Eek.
Still, there was the ceramics studio. I haven't been in one since high school, since I started Wartburg as an art major and the professor at the time said they weren't interested in offering pottery, since I became an adult and the cost of classes soared above any hope of affordability. You could sign up for a 45-minute session to make a slab pot or a coil pot. Unless it was really something beautiful, you had to smash it down at the end.
I ended up making this. It's an Iraqi woman in modern abaya, walking as I remember in the markets. I get to keep it. I got a free drink for having a nice art project. The 'oohs' and 'ahs' were really nice too. One of the girls who teaches there will go to see if I can volunteer as a TA for her, since volunteering enough hours lets you 'work off' some of the class tuition. That would be great. I forgot how much I missed it and how much I remembered. I was so happy to be in that room doing this, that I was almost crying. My artwork often takes last place in a busy life; with the long hours worked in Baghdad, I really hadn't touched it since. But I knew that I needed to do something about it--I'd been almost in tears every time I passed an art exhibition.
I hope the statue makes it. I'm worried I'm so out of practice that my practical technique of hollowing it wasn't good enough. We'll find out in about a week.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
What I'm Reading This Term
Don't you wish you were in seminary too? A lot of these books just kick butt and I'm excited.
I'll start with those for class, and then get into my 'extra-curricular' readings:
Institutes of the Christian Religion (vols. 1 and 2), Jean Calvin
Handbook of Christian Theology
A People's History of the United States-Howard Zinn
Welcome to the Desert of the Real (essays following 9/11) Slavoj Zizek
Democracy Matters--Cornell West
The Chomsky Reader--Noam Chomsky
Preaching--Craddock
Encountering God--Diana L. Eck
God for a Secular Society--Jurgen Moltmann
Reading Derrida/Thinking Paul--Ted Jennings
The Scandalous Book of James--Elsa Tamez
Culture and Imperialism--Edward Said
The Preaching Life--Barbara Brown Taylor
The Threat of Life--Walter Brueggemann
St. Paul: The Foundation of Universalism--Alain Badiou
Paul Among Jews and Gentiles--Krister Stendahl
Women's Bible Commentary--Newsome and Ringe
Queer Bible Commentary--Guest, et al
Heirs of Paul--J. Christian Beker
The Archetype of Initiation--Robert Moore
Facing the Dragon--Moore
Boundaries of the Soul--June Singer
The Courage to Be--Paul Tillich
Engaging the Powers--Walter Wink
Liberating Visions--Robert Michael Franklin
Pedagogy of the Oppressed--Paulo Freire
Teaching to Transgress--bell hooks
The Sacred and the Profane--Mircea Eliade
Christianity Through Non-Christian Eyes--Paul Griffiths, ed.
And the extras:
Church in the Round--Letty Russell (gift from the author)
Dictionary of Feminist Theologies--Clarkson and Russell (gift of the author)
Cunt: A Declaration of Independence--Inge Muscio
Cinderella and Her Sisters: The Envied and the Envying--Ulanov
Casting Stones in the Household of God--Thistlethwaite/Nakashima Brock
Rules for Radicals--Saul Alinsky
Dark Night of the Soul--St. John of the Cross
Boundary Leaders--Gary Gunderson
Always Being Reformed: Faith for a Fragmented World--Shirley Guthrie
Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition--Christine D. Pohl
Deeply Woven Roots: Improving the Quality of Life in Your Community--Gary Gunderson
If you would like to read along with me on any of these, let's do so. It could be kind of fun. And it's too cold outside anyway.
peace,
Le Anne
I'll start with those for class, and then get into my 'extra-curricular' readings:
Institutes of the Christian Religion (vols. 1 and 2), Jean Calvin
Handbook of Christian Theology
A People's History of the United States-Howard Zinn
Welcome to the Desert of the Real (essays following 9/11) Slavoj Zizek
Democracy Matters--Cornell West
The Chomsky Reader--Noam Chomsky
Preaching--Craddock
Encountering God--Diana L. Eck
God for a Secular Society--Jurgen Moltmann
Reading Derrida/Thinking Paul--Ted Jennings
The Scandalous Book of James--Elsa Tamez
Culture and Imperialism--Edward Said
The Preaching Life--Barbara Brown Taylor
The Threat of Life--Walter Brueggemann
St. Paul: The Foundation of Universalism--Alain Badiou
Paul Among Jews and Gentiles--Krister Stendahl
Women's Bible Commentary--Newsome and Ringe
Queer Bible Commentary--Guest, et al
Heirs of Paul--J. Christian Beker
The Archetype of Initiation--Robert Moore
Facing the Dragon--Moore
Boundaries of the Soul--June Singer
The Courage to Be--Paul Tillich
Engaging the Powers--Walter Wink
Liberating Visions--Robert Michael Franklin
Pedagogy of the Oppressed--Paulo Freire
Teaching to Transgress--bell hooks
The Sacred and the Profane--Mircea Eliade
Christianity Through Non-Christian Eyes--Paul Griffiths, ed.
And the extras:
Church in the Round--Letty Russell (gift from the author)
Dictionary of Feminist Theologies--Clarkson and Russell (gift of the author)
Cunt: A Declaration of Independence--Inge Muscio
Cinderella and Her Sisters: The Envied and the Envying--Ulanov
Casting Stones in the Household of God--Thistlethwaite/Nakashima Brock
Rules for Radicals--Saul Alinsky
Dark Night of the Soul--St. John of the Cross
Boundary Leaders--Gary Gunderson
Always Being Reformed: Faith for a Fragmented World--Shirley Guthrie
Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition--Christine D. Pohl
Deeply Woven Roots: Improving the Quality of Life in Your Community--Gary Gunderson
If you would like to read along with me on any of these, let's do so. It could be kind of fun. And it's too cold outside anyway.
peace,
Le Anne
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