Remembering E. Katherine Kerr

I am probably not alone in continuing to process the recent passing of our friend and mentor, E. Katherine Kerr. I am still finding her voice, her gentle, yet firm touch regarding work in my memory, in my journals, on the walls of our yoga room...

Dolphins were a big part of her life, and ours too. What follows is one of the electronic recordings I made of her impact on us. This class would have taken place in Manhattan. The play performance referenced was one we did, Jen-Scott and I, and probably the last time we were in class together.

The "closure" referenced here is very personal for us. The "agency" referred to is something we willingly and trustingly gave up for the sake of a play.         

E.K.'s advice taught me that communicating my thoughts is not an assault on authority, but a way to honor the creative process. I will be forever in her debt for so many things.

 
From my on-line journal:

June 7, 2007

Closure.  Jennifer and I both attended E. Katherine Kerr’s class last night.  It turned out to be a much more moving and rewarding experience than I’d first imagined.  At the outset, I did not want to go.  My resistance was palpable.  However, I took the opportunity to do my monologue from the play directly to Jennifer, instead of out to the audience as I had done in performance.  The result was closure for me, I finally got to say this to her and have her respond, have myself respond in a realistic, human way.  At last, I feel at peace and finished...  Jennifer got closure (I hope) as well.  We did the opening scene the way she felt it could have worked.  She expressed her repressed self...for the first time. 

 E.K. was most passionate in her support that we never let anyone under any circumstances take our “presence” away.  She was adamant and as clear as I’ve ever seen her, seated on the very edge of her chair very firmly declaring we must never let someone take our agency.   It was a powerful and extraordinary experience, one I’m so glad to have witnessed.  Katherine also went on to use this instance to highlight the altruism that we learn much more from difficulty and distress than we do with ease. 

EK had the gift, and we were blessed to have received from her the comfort and benefit of her insight.

Mining the Past

This morning I found the text of my old web log. Here is an excerpt:

And after September I finally went back to Yoga.

5/7/05

Taking a Look

 Step into a booth

Slip a dollar in the slot

Curtain opens come on baby

Show me what you’ve got

I’m young and I’m lonely

I can feel the blood in my vein

Got a rock in my hand

Nowhere to hide my shame

Cold sun rising over a pile of ruins

I look at myself and ask

“What am I doin’? ”

Step out of sunlight

Into shade

Take a sip from the cup

Of coffee I made

Lookin’ down the long pipe

Of my father’s gun

Longin’ for simple days

Of being his son

Come to another door

Slip key into lock

Curtain opens come on baby

Show Daddy what you bought

Cold sun rises over a pile of ruins

I take a look at myself

“Hey buddy, how am I doin’?”

If a man lives long enough

He gets to play it all

Spring, Summer Winter

Comes after fall

I think of mother

Get a chill to my bone

It’s true what they say

You can never go home

Cold sun rises over a rubble heap

I take a look at myself

Never Forget- Knowingly, Purposefully, Selflessly

It has been 18 years. Personally, I will never forget.

However, what I choose to remember may not be the same for me as others. There are those who choose to remember only what “they” did to us. True, there are things I saw that day I will never be able to “un-see.” Nightmarish images, not from any television or movie. Scenes of death and destruction which are the very cause of PTSD.

Still, those inexplicable tragic memories are not what I choose to dwell on. I will always remember what “WE” did in response. I vow to remember, honor, and praise the victims. People who didn’t know what hit them. People of all backgrounds, occupations, and faiths.

Honor, praise, and remember the heroes who knowingly, purposefully, and selflessly ran into danger. I remember how we were galvanized with a sense of duty, not just New Yorkers, not just fire fighters and police; every one of us.

I remember crowds of people lining West Street waving and cheering all the police and fire vehicles as they moved to and from ground zero. Countless gatherings, fundraisers, programs, and institutions started and invested with the mission of healing. I remember a can-do spirit where everyone had his or her hands out to aid, comfort, rescue, recover, and restore. The most common phrases I remember were “what do you need?” and “how can I help you?” I remember an outpouring of grief and support from the entire planet. How very faraway that unity seems to me now.

From my brief hours on a bucket brigade, to long and weary tedium of overnight shifts in the command center, I became one with people working as part of a solution to mind boggling crisis. I will never forget the dedication, and willful sacrifice made by soldiers. I will never forget the love.

This is my third 9/11 away from New York City. My first was to attend Dad’s funeral in 2008. The past two I have been here, in my new home, yet I realize now that I will always and forever be a New Yorker.

I will never forget the people. Those I am blessed to have met and worked alongside during our darkest hours. I want to thank them for their service. My personal choice on how to combat what “they” tried to do is to make sure I participate with good faith in creating and maintaining the kind of America in which we can all take part.

In brief, I will ever choose to remember the good brought out in each of us during a time of great adversity. Remember the steady leadership of those who would not let hate define us, who would not allow division to usurp our humanity.

MOTHER'S DAY 2019

Mom took us to the circus

To see the lions and the clowns

Elephants and aerialists

Cotton candy and paper crowns

She made for us

Unforgettable memories

Of joy and laughter and love

And I believe she smiles now

As she loves us from above

The Christmas Trees and Easter Baskets, 

Thanksgiving feasts and more,

just some of what my mother brought 

with courage to my core

Dear mommy, dear mother

Thank you for giving us your all

Your love for us has fed our souls

Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall

MDR 2019

Facebook Announces New Policy to Ban White Nationalist Content - NY Times

13 Days and counting where I have not looked a my News Feed. Full disclosure, I have looked at Messenger and linked my last post via FB, but I have not looked at the targeted advertising in almost two weeks. And SURPRISE!

Life goes on.

Yesterday the media giant announced that they would no longer carry White Nationalist Content on their site. I have no illusions that my little protest had any impact, but never the less,  I am going the full 17 days without Facebook . One for each minute they live streamed murder. But, I think they still miss the point.

Is Hate Speech Free Speech?

If not, then why not ban all hate speech, and be extremely vigilant about what live streams? Which in turn could create jobs all over the world. Take a firm stand against all forms of intolerance and hate.

I am just one person, yet certain that many more people are outraged over Facebook's lack of over-site when it comes to violently disturbing content. I don't care what people believe or what god they pray to, but I insist on non-violence.

NINE DAYS GONE

My challenge to myself to boycott Facebook for live streaming 17 minuets of murder enters double digit days. This is not to say I have totally abandoned my friends there. I have used messenger to communicate, and received e-mail notifications for some of your posts.

But I have not "scrolled" my news feed for nine days. More importantly, I have not been looking at the targeted advertising. It is a small gesture, I know. However, I feel it important to take some kind of stand.

In a world where we all can take more control of our entertainment programming then ever before, we seem increasingly dependent on one source of information. Divide and Conquer is still a very real threat, and we have been severely divided in this nation.  I personally am experiencing a Red Neck Elitism in my part of the country. The "If you are not with us, you are against us, my way or the highway" set if you will.

If we keep being steered to the extreme right, or the extreme left, all we do is go round in circles.

We need now, more than ever, a more direct path to the future. One that does not treat the very real problems of our society like clay pigeons to be shot down for sport by people who would like to destroy our government.

MARCH 17, 1954

Welcome to day 2 of my 17 day challenge to myself. I will forego Facebook and all its trappings until the cruel month of April.

Today I celebrate the life of a man I never met, yet without whom I would not be. My grandfather, Stewart Ransom, passed this day in 1954 while watching the parade on TV.

Since then, St. Patrick's Day has always been a, let us say sedate, if not somber occasion for our family. Which is very out of character for us. (We like to party.) But I have never had the green beer, nor passed out drunk at any of the festivities.

When we were very young, my kid sister and I, were taken to the big parade down Fifth Avenue by our neighbor. We sat on the curb as so many marchers went by I thought the ground moved and the people stood marching in place. I caught a good glimpse of Mayor Lindsey, and an even briefer glimpse of Bobby Kennedy, for he was surrounded by photographers.

How did I know it was Bobby Kennedy? Mrs. Agnes Butts, our neighbor who had taken us to the parade, leaned out against the blue and white police barricade and shouted,

"WE LOVE YOU BAW-BEEE!"

She talked about it all the way back to Mariners Harbor.


I do like to hear from my relations who tell me stories about "Pop". He was gone before I came along and I often wonder how different my life might be if he had the opportunity to influence me.

That is part of the mystery to life I indulge in these days, now that the pressure to be perfect at work is part and parcel of my retirement.

God Bless, and Keep you, Pop. Say hi to mom, and dad, and all the aunts and uncles.

(from L to R) Uncle Stew, Pop, and Daddy)

1943