Last night's reading in Salt Lake City was so moving. Tremendous support.
Many friends and family present. I owe so much to Betsy Burton, the proprietor of The King's English Bookshop. If each author has a "home bookstore," the King's English is mine. At moments of great discouragement last year, when I wanted to write this book of essays on "The Open Space of Democracy" and I couldn't find a publisher who was willing to print it -- Betsy wouldn't let me lose heart. This is what an independent bookstore does for its writers.
After her call, Laurie Lane-Zucker from the Orion Society called the next day. He asked what I was thinking and if I would be interested in writing a series of essays for Orion magazine, I said yes, unsure of what they would be but trusting something would come -- Again, this is how community supports the creative process. Jennifer Sahn was my editor and was wonderfully tough in what she asked of me. A good, strong editor is a great gift, and I have been blessed with many great ones.
Two things that moved me after the reading: My grandfather Sanky Dixon (whom I adored; he died in 1995) had many cousins, common in old Mormon families. One of his cousins I have loved seeing through the years is Edith Fallentine. She is now 89 years old. She was at the reading, and afterwards we were able to talk at the book signing. She was with her granddaughter, who I learned is a tree-sitter in Oregon, in the Willamette Forest. Over 100 days sitting in a tree, defending the forest. I am so proud of her. Her grandmother said that they wished she might find something with a bit more security, but said that, for now, they support what she is doing, following her passion. I gave my brave, young cousin a red ribbon. "Bloodlines." I said. "Thank you for doing what the rest of us feel in our hearts."
Edith and her granddaughter left (I am not saying her name out of respect for her privacy) and seconds later, Edith skipped a stair and fell. It was a terrible accident. She cut her head badly -- almost a 5 inch gash through muscle and nerves. We found out later, she fractured a vertebra in her neck. She was so brave as she lay on the floor of the school auditorium waiting for the paramedics. We were all heartsick. It turned out she was at the emergency room until 3 in the morning. I talked to her today and she was so chipper. I told her Brooke and I would come visit her on Tuesday. She said, "Make sure you call first. I've got a really busy schedule." 89 years old. I pray I have her genes. Betsy is bringing her audio tapes of favorite books for the next couple of weeks while she recuperates.
Also, present at the King's English reading was Forrest Cuch, a powerful leader within the Ute Nation. He was born and raised on the Uintah and Ouray Ute Indian Reservation and is now the director of the Utah Division of Indian Affairs. We spoke about the intensity of these times. He offered his support and then shared his experience of gathering with other Indians on the Mall in Washington, D.C. on October 21, 2004 to celebrate the opening of the National Museum of the American Indian. Five hundred nations participating in a procession, walking together with their own people in their native regalia. All generations were present. Such dignity and pride. Singing. Drumming. Dancing.
I thought about what endures in spite of such cruelties and injustices.
Forrest said when he returned home, one word came to mind: "Re-emergence."
This morning, my niece Callie and I flew to Denver for a reading at The Tattered Cover, another great bookstore in the American West. She was able to play hooky (I love that word) from her second year in law school at BYU.
The last time Callie and I were in Denver together was in 1992. She was studying Aztec history in fourth grade. The Denver Natural History Museum was having an exhibit on Aztecs. It seemed like the perfect field trip. What I failed to anticipate was the violence expressed and illustrated in the exhibit from cut-out hearts to beheadings to leaping virgins sacrificed to gods into the dark bottomless pools in the jungle. I should have known better after the lecture at the Utah Museum of Natural History we sponsored on "Penis Perforation Among the Aztecs."
If my memory holds, attendance was low that night. I believe it was a talk given by a potential candidate in the Anthropology Department.
Anyway, Callie was laughing saying that she now associates Denver with Aztec culture. This image was reinforced by one of the strange garden terraces cultivated within the Denver International Airport.
2:00 p.m. Callie and I take "high tea" at the Brown Palace. Heavenly. For two hours, we talk and share stories while we swoon over tiny triangle sandwiches with cucumbers and salmon, and two tiers of chocolates, cookies, and scones with clotted cream.
4:00 p.m. News from Florida Gulf Coast University. The Faculty Senate met with President Merwin. Impassioned speeches were made. Hard questions were asked, with many faculty members outraged over Cheney's invitation to speak on campus.
Here is the letter written to President Merwin from the Faculty Senate:
We -- scientists, artists, poets and educators -- would like to firmly express our disagreement and disappointment with President Merwin's decision to postpone Convocation and the presentation by Terry Tempest Williams.
We have heard the reasons for making this decision and we have listened. Now, we ask to be heard in the best spirit of democracy.
Following Dr. Merwin's lead, we also wish to quote Terry Tempest Williams: "We are nothing but whiners if we are not willing to put our concerns and convictions on the line... to honestly listen and learn something beyond our own assumptions. Something new might emerge through shared creativity. If we cannot do this, I fear we will be left talking with only like-minded people, spending our days mumbling in the circles of the mad."
President Merwin argues that a university-sanctioned event with required student attendance that makes use of state funds is an inappropriate forum for presenting "one particular viewpoint" and lacks balance. What intellectual or artistic discourse is politically balanced? To require such balance places a muzzle of intellectual mediocrity on us as teachers and denies our students the respect they deserve as independent, critical thinkers.
We want our students to be exposed to competing voices so that they can make up their own minds. But if we insist on politically balanced perspectives, we'll never encounter anything that is truly provocative. In a sense, we agree with Dr. Merwin. We want balance, too. But that balance must come from hearing different voices, not from watering down differences so that we are left with a political discourse that is guaranteed not to offend anyone.
It would be a poor classroom where the main concern was to present balance rather than inspire an open space for intellectual pursuit. Does this decision imply that we must now offer creationism as an alternative to evolution? Does this imply that we must present revisionist history of the Holocaust alongside survivors' stories? We try to capture diversity in the classroom by exposing students to a wide range of provocative views. The public practices of the university ought to reflect these classroom practices.
The precedent that Dr. Merwin is establishing threatens our fundamental academic freedom. He has stated that the Convocation organizers need "to review the purpose and goals of a university convocation."
We live in a pluralistic society in which exposure to diverse views is central to the process of individual self-determination. The purpose of university convocations is to tap into this diversity. The virtue of Terry Tempest Williams is that she offers us a way to be open to this diversity and to grow from it. Does the President propose a better purpose for university convocations? If so, we'd like to hear it. We think we must have this kind of open engagement that agrees with the mission of the university and is consistent with our educational practices.
We hope that President Merwin and the Trustees recognize and appreciate the irony of their decision. The discord that has resulted has opened an even broader space for democracy. Sadly the administration has not led us here, but rather we find ourselves here by default.
To our students' benefit, and our good fortune, they have taken the reins dropped by the Board of Trustees and the President and are inviting Ms. Williams to speak on campus. Their actions prove their courage and free us from the "circles of the mad."
It is so moving to see the actions taken by both the students and faculty on behalf of free speech and their own governance of principle at FGCU. They have exhibited both courage and wisdom in upholding the integrity of their university.
President Merwin agreed, after listening to the faculty's concerns, that he would not make a unilateral decision like the one he made to postpone Freshmen Convocation again, without consulting the Senate.
President Merwin has also agreed to honor the students' invitation to have me speak on Sunday, October 24. And the president, unexpectedly, said he would like to introduce me.
We have all been transformed by this experience and it has not been without its pain and passion.
It feels like we have been characters in a strange, and at times harrowing, shadow play of democracy.
7:30 to 11:00 p.m. Reading at The Tattered Cover Bookstore. Stories. More stories. It was a wonderful gathering of spirited people as we gathered together in the spirit of a town meeting. Individuals stood up and spoke of their fears that America was heading down the path of totalitarianism. A veteran from World War II was among the first to speak of his concerns.
I think about Hannah Arendt, when she wrote that the first sign of a totalitarian state is when the people feel their voice has no impact within their government.
I think about the gentleman from Ethiopia who was a young activist in his country, part of a "clandestine organization" trying to overthrow the dictatorship that ruled Ethiopia years back. Many people were killed, he said. Our actions were of no consequence. He was later part of the Ministry of Natural Resources, a soil scientist working on deforestation.
"I left," he said He now drives a cab part-time and is an American citizen.
He wants to return one day to Ethiopia and help build a democracy like the one he is living in here.
"I like watch how democracy works in America," he says. "It's a beautiful thing."
