The community in North Carolina where I spent my childhood was multigenerational, segregated and vibrant. Unlike the community where I live currently, older people or elders were a part of community life. Elders were seen as useful, and were integrated into community life imparting wisdom to the next generation. Therefore, my childhood experiences were enriched by having significant relationships with aging adults that helped shape my identity. Being in their presence, listening to their stories enraptured me and helped me find my place in a broader world by connecting me with history.
These neighborhood surrogate grandparents offered discipline, delights and stories of time gone by. I was struck by their courage, faith and strength often in the face of adverse, hostile circumstances. Mother Thorne the loving, firm godmother to all the neighborhood children was capable of delivering powerful messages in just a few words. I vividly remember a conversation with her in which she stated, “It’s not what you’re called, but what you think of yourself.” She affected me deeply conveying a message I’ve never forgotten.
As a Kellogg International Leadership Fellow, fellows were charged to engage in extracurricular activities that were refueling after being involved in the oftentimes exhausting work of social change. Fellows in my group chose activities such as gardening, hiking excursions and other activities typically thought to be recharging. Proposed activities were submitted to project advisors for approval. With trepidation, my proposal to document the love stories of African American elders was submitted to Dr. Marvin McKinney. At first glance the proposed activity seemed like more work, rather than refueling my tank. After sharing the role elders played in my life, while growing up in the segregated South, he approved it. The stories I collected of African American elders culminated in a book published by Pilgrim Press in 2002, entitled “Standing the Test of Time: Love Stories of African American Elders.”
Though my career has focused on improving the lives of youth living in at-risk environments, my spare time has been dominated with creating projects honoring elders while helping to facilitate a cultural shift with how the oldest among us are viewed, treated and engaged. In modern times, where a youth oriented culture prevails, our elders are not valued and as a result often experience a loss of self-worth and sense of purpose. This disregard of elders results in the missed learning that derives from their wisdom, teachings and guidance during a time when they are most needed.
My most recent body of work, Grits, Greens and Griots, captures the oral history of elders, 90 years of age and older who were born and currently reside in the South. Elders born before 1922 also experienced the Great Depression, World War II, historic migration of families, a shift from an agricultural to an industry based economy and the Civil Rights Movement. Their stories weave together a rich collection that reflects the various dimensions of the Southern experience while drawing attention to the family and community life that helped shape one’s identity during a period of distrust and skepticism. These authentic stories expose wounds that continue to plague us today, while providing healing and a bridge of understanding from recent history.
Aging, in other societies around the world, is approached much differently than we do in America. The aging population is immersed in family and community life as viable contributors. “In the most ancient cultures, old people were respected and revered. They were the repositories of wisdom and provided the dimension of depth without which no civilization can survive for long.” (Tolle) Elders in this instance are those that have turned their life experiences into wisdom, healing medicine and guidance for the generations that follow providing connection to history in active ways.
In October, for the first time since being a fellow, I attended the Kellogg Fellows Leadership Alliance conference held in Detroit. Participating in this event reaffirmed that being a Kellogg Fellow was one of the most significant events in my life. Over the years, doubting whether I belonged to a group of committed, innovative, risk-takers, I avoided KILP activities with chagrin. Shifting into the next phase in my life’s journey, I attended the conference with a renewed sense of purpose. When john powell shared an exposé about the power of sharing stories and Grace Lee Boggs, a 96 year-old Chinese-American activist inspired us to remain engaged in social change activism, I was thrilled with a knowingness that I belonged. As a late bloomer, I am immensely grateful to the Kellogg Foundation for allowing me to plant a seed, while being a fellow, that has bloomed into my life’s purpose, where I belong.