Panel event, brought to you by Sister Helen and Yours Truly

Katie D.

October 18, 2011 - 3:41 PM

Last night Sister Helen appeared at Temple Beth Israel to discuss the concept of "A calling to social justice." The event was an interreligious focus, with members from several local churches joining UO students and faculty at the local Jewish temple.

Last year, the event we held at TBI was my favorite event. It was less formal and more welcoming, with an effort to include voices from various communities, and the encouragement of dialogue in the audience.

We have an enormous advantage when working with Sister Helen: no matter how the event is arranged, we know she will speak movingly. So we just needed to fill in the space around her.

Professor Cheyney Ryan and United Church of Christ Associate Pastor Melanie Oomen were the primary organizers for this event. Cheyney invited activist and rabbi Will Berkovitz to join us from Seattle for the event. So we had a panel: Sister Helen and Rabbi Berkovitz conversing, with prompts and thoughts from Cheyney and Melanie to move the event along.

But then Cheyney decided that there should be a youth element included. Two weeks ago, it was mentioned as a possibility that I might speak briefly, along with one or two other young activists. Last week I was told they weren't sure if they would need me or not.

I arrived on Monday to a stage with three empty chairs: one for Sister Helen, one for Rabbi Berkovitz, and one for me.

It was a surprise, to be sure. But Melanie and Cheyney trust me, and Sister Helen has become a good friend. I had met the rabbi during an earlier speaking event, and felt sure that he would have deep and challenging ideas to share with the audience.

So I spoke from my heart. Sitting up there, in front of an audience of over a hundred people, I managed to turn my experiences into a few concise ideas that matched the themes introduced by the other panelists. I made eye contact with the audience. I was honest about the faith roots of my activism and my passion for social justice. I was enthusiastic about the opportunities generated when older and younger activists mentor and challenge one another. I shared several quick anecdotes, and even surprised myself.

When called upon to answer, on the spot, how I continue in my activism, I froze for a second. I thought about the question, "How do you continue, when it would be so much easier to quit." I opened my mouth to offer a generic (but true) comment about the importance of having a community to support and encourage one another. But what I said was a truth I hadn't recognized in myself.

It would not be easier to quit. Even when I'm exhausted and overwhelmed and am in my most demoralized state, I cannot imagine walking away from these causes. It would not be easier to leave behind my work at the prisons. Or on the border. Or to let someone else worry about scheduling events and building coalitions. It would not be easier, not even close.

Many things make me happy in life. I love my friends, my family, the beauty of my surroundings and eating big spoonfulls of brownie batter. It's the big stuff and the simple stuff that makes me happy.

But much of the deep joy of my life arises from the sense of having a cause. And the feeling that I'm not alone: that I'm following heroes like Sister Helen, and learning from the wisdom of people like Rabbi Berkovitz. And that I'm mentored by people like Cheyney and Melanie.

I cannot imagine quitting because this work is who I am. And joy arises for me when I'm working, or when I'm speaking about my work. Last night, in front of that group, I shared a secret which is both powerful and vulnerable: that I desperately need to continue this work, and that I so wish to do so in the company of other committed and passionate people.

Lucky for me, I am surrounded and inspired every day.

What a blessing to be able to speak that truth.