The Family of Man.. and Women

The Family of Man… and Women

Migrant Mother California Lange 1936

“The purpose of these pages is twofold.

To serve as a remembrance of our happy times in the past and of our own search for ourselves.

To serve as a message of hope for a successful life in every respect in the future.

“A past and a future—both tied together by the present—not only the present, but love—without which neither the past nor the future would exist.”— Judy Rand and Sue Latham, inscribed in The Family of Man, probably written in 1964 and given as a gift at our graduation from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, the Women’s College of the University of North Carolina at that time.

The Family of Man was a photographic exhibition of 503 photographs from 68 countries, created by Edward Steichen for the Museum of Modern Art in 1955. The exhibit toured the world, drawing record-breaking crowds for eight years. The book from the exhibit became an instant success and has never been out of print.

My husband directs the archaeology of our past memories from our basement and recently brought me this photographic book from The Family of Man exhibition to consider giving to one of our granddaughters for graduation.

It is the perfect gift to pass on. Zoe will not know Judy Rand and Sue Latham, who gifted the book to me. But the book will always carry the inscribed love of these two dear college friends from my dorm. Unfortunately, in the intervening years, I had lost touch with Judy and Sue. However, my hope is that the inscription from Judy and Sue in the book will carry the love of friends who changed my life and may also bring meaning to Zoe at a similar age in her adventures, more than half a century later.

We all have a call: to continue treasuring the love we received from friends and to pass that love on as best we can. This copy of The Family of Man is a treasured, visible tradition that makes this possible. Discussing the photographs in the book with my granddaughter and talking about the friends who gifted it will be another way—simply spending time together in the present moment, remembering the past, and looking to the future. A sacred time.

A wonderful postscript. Judy Rand and I recently reconnected on Facebook. She is still the amazing person I once knew. After many years in academia, she is now an artist and musician living in West Virginia.

judy rand

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Close Encounters of the Best Kind

Close Encounters of the Best Kind

After Kate Bowler wrote about returning to her hometown for a summer vacation, she recently asked readers to write about a place or person that brings us back to ourselves almost immediately.

I knew immediately what to say. That always happens to me when I return to my hometown, a thousand miles away. At a high school reunion, we can't pretend to be something we’re not. We take off our masks. They knew us before we became who we are today. They know our roots. They know our beginnings and early development. They were there and cared for us, and still do. We knew how to speak our truth then without questioning it. 

I remember a boy in my class whom I knew only peripherally telling me in a science class that he planned to drop out of high school. I told him not to do it. I saw him at a class reunion twenty-five years later. He came up to me, said he had listened to me, didn't leave, and thanked me. I do not remember the incident twenty-five years earlier when I simply told him not to leave school. I think it was probably a reflexive truth about education that had become part of my DNA even at that early age.

Many years later, I now think about him, especially as he recently died, and I read over his obituary. He never left our hometown and worked at the pulp and paper mill there for 40 years as a third-generation employee. He was well known for his skill and work ethic as a welder. Technology and photography became his hobbies, and he was endlessly curious. He was deeply loved by his family. During his retirement, he regularly met old friends for breakfast, spent time riding along on friends’ crabbing boats, and enjoyed cooking crabs. After his wife died, he developed a relationship with another member of our high school class of thirty -three whose spouse had also died.

He lived life to the fullest until the end. He will be remembered for his kindness, skills, and curiosity, as well as for the many quiet ways he helped those around him.

As I read his obituary, it was clear that he loved and was loved.

 I have a friend who tells me that perhaps encounters like the one in high school might be our sole purpose in life.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

The Hound of Heaven

The Hound of Heaven

“The name is strange. It startles one at first. It is bold, new, and fearless. It does not attract, but rather repels. Yet when one reads the poem, this strangeness disappears. The meaning is understood.”—J. F. X. O’Connor, S. J., in A Study of Francis Thompson’s Hound of Heaven (John Lane Company, 1912), p. 7.

Once a week, I meet with friends who share how God works in their lives. I attend this meeting on Saturday morning because I believe in miracles, and what I hear and see always affirms them. These are people once caught in addiction who thought there was no way out—but somehow, through the grace of God and the help of the community, found a new life. I give up my Saturday morning to meet with people I have seen for years and others I have never met. There are people from all walks of life, many of whom I would not have known otherwise.

People often talk about the moment they realized there might be a way out of their old lifestyle. They call it a moment of clarity. Many were desperate. Some knew this was not the path they would ever choose, but there they were.

They were all initially uncomfortable when they came to the group for help. I attended this 12-step group for the first time around Thanksgiving. I remember seeing posters for a Thanksgiving potluck. I remember thinking, I don’t enjoy being here, and goodness knows I don’t want to eat with these people either! Today, over thirty years later, most of the people I go out to eat with are those I met through this community!

Many talk about not understanding what gave them the courage to attend this meeting. Story after story reveals that there is something greater than all of us—caring for us, loving us, and calling us to become the persons we were created to be. I also observe this phenomenon among individuals seeking spiritual direction. Something is calling us out of our God hole—the God, the Christ within us, who, deep down in our being, makes us aware that we are unconditionally loved.

In 1893, Francis Thompson wrote an 182-line poem titled The Hound of Heaven about his experience of being “hounded” by God. I could not have given a better description.

Another reader, Don Follis, reminds us about his experience with The Hound of Heaven.

“The Hound of Heaven is relentless, patient, tenacious, and, thank God, good!”

Don also sent a quote from C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

“Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.” “Ooh,” said Susan. “I’d thought he was a man. Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.” “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver. “Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

There is a 12-step Eucharist at St. Mark’s in the chapel every first Wednesday of the month at 5:30.