Braver Self

Golden Girls of the West

2011-11-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

My trio, Raison D'Etre, has a new project. Here's the one-sheet description:

The women of the folk trio, Raison D'Etre(Violet Rae Webster, Vickie Riffe Ellis and Roberta Schultz)have never backed down from a challenge, period. Especially period music challenges. When Historic Washington, KY wanted frontier carolers, they learned holiday tunes from pre-1820. When the Cincinnati Museum Center wanted Shaker music, Civil War songs, and WWII swing tunes, they researched, arranged, and found the costumes. So when the founder of the Old West Festival wondered if they just might be able to do an hour of Old West songs, Roberta Schultz, singer, guitar player, and one of the songwriters for the trio began researching:

"In one of the first articles that I read on the popular music of the late 1800s, I was surprised that the author declared this period a dead zone in music. Lots of minstrel shows were being performed all over the East and the South. And many of these shows had newly composed songs like "Lubly Fan" which later became "Buffalo Gals" and "Wait for the Wagon" which came from a musical in the 1850s. Cowboys took these songs with them when they rode the trails of the West, along with many tunes from the Civil War and old ballads that funneled through the folk process to become cowboy songs. I didn't see a 'dead zone.' Instead, I saw a rich period in American music that paved the way for singer songwriters, Tin Pan Alley, and Broadway musicals."

Schultz's research resulted in yet another full hour of period music that Raison D'Etre performs at the Old West Festival and for libraries as Golden Girls of the West.:

"We've always enjoyed having fun with our album titles. When we recorded a sound track for a community theatre production of 'Dearly Departed,' we couldn't resist putting our baby pictures on the cover and calling the collection of Baptist hymns 'Broadman Babies' to hearken back to the show tune 'Broadway Babies' and our early church-going roots. When we did a collection of classic Christmas carols, we called it 'Christmas Belles' and asked our friend Freddie Thoman to sketch a cover of three belles in hoop shirts that were also a string of bells. Much to our delight and surprise, the sequel to the play 'Dearly Departed' was also named 'Christmas Belles'--a coincidence that only encouraged the tongue-in-cheek naming tradition. So, when we learned an entire set of Old West tunes, I remembered the sister act, Girls of the Golden West, who recorded cowgirl songs during the 1940s. It didn't take long to think of the transposition for that title. 'Golden Girls of the West' was born."

While performing the Old West tunes during the 2008 inaugural season of the Old West Festival near Williamsburg, OH, the trio found that the set was often too sad for their liking. Said Schultz, "Cowboys had a pretty hard scrabble existence, so many of the songs were about homesickness, lost loves, and death. We were wondering what we could do to the set to lift our spirits without compromising its authenticity. So, we did what we always do to add some sass to a folk music set.

We added a few songs from the swing era that were about the Old West. Cole Porter's classic, 'Don't Fence Me In" causes lots of sing alongs, plus we can really bemoan our cowgirl plight with the cheeky 'Buttons and Bows.' Add Dale Evans' wonderfully upbeat 'Happy Trails' to the end of any set, and you have the recipe for a good time."

"Golden Girls of the West" loped their way into the studio this spring to begin recording this classic set of cowgirl tunes. The result is an honest, respectful rendering of 11 Old West songs anchored by the lighthearted trio of "Hollywood cowgirl songs," as Schultz likes to call them. One Schultz original entitled "The Papers" also found its way on to the recording since it is a family story about Henry Price, a young Blackfoot who traveled with Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show to the Ohio Valley in the late 1800s. He was Violet Webster's and Roberta Schultz's great grandfather:

"My Grandma, Babe, always told me the story of how her daddy ended up in Portsmouth, OH as an indentured servant. It was an important legacy to her, and since it's part of our Old West history in this area, I thought it deserved a place on the album."

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We debuted the new recording at the Old West Festival this fall to record crowds for the Festival and a few sales for us. If you'd like to hear a few authentic songs of the Old West plus some great Hollywood cowgirl tunes, I've included a link to the right and also a link to the interview Lee Hay did with me about the CD and the Festival back in September. You can buy the CD by going to the Raison D'Etre homepage(bottom link on the right.)

Happy Trails!

Wench

2011-10-17T12:36:00.000-07:00

When Wench was first published in 2010 by Amistad Books, the work garnered praise from USA Today, People, and Essence. Available earlier this year in paperback, the provocative title leads the reader into the Ohio woods to a place that actually existed,Tawawa House. Author Dolen Perkins-Valdez found the kernel for her first novel while reading a biography of W.E.B. Du Bois about his tenure at Wilberforce University of Ohio. That biography made reference to a summer resort near Xenia that was popular among slave holders who vacationed with their enslaved mistresses.

From a sketched broadside of the actual resort, called Tawawa, a Shawnee word for clear water, newspaper advertisements from the time, and her own extensive reading of nineteenth century slave narratives, Perkins-Valdez was able to piece together what these summer forays into the free state of Ohio must have been like for a group of slaves during the years leading up to the Civil War.

The structure of the novel consists of four parts which are mainly chronological except for one flashback departure(Part II) that serves to explain how Lizzie, the main character, becomes a mistress to her owner, Nathaniel Drayle. Part I takes place during 1852, the second summer this particular group of slaves, from Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia travels to Tawawa with their masters. The proximity of their cabins, the more casual vacation attitude of the resort and their cooperation to serve the small group of slave owners brings them together in a way not permitted at their southern plantations. The resort also includes a hotel where freemen and women are employed. The slaves are fascinated that the hotel employees can come and go as they please. And even more intrigued when they learn that a resort exists nearby for free blacks.

This unfamiliar notion of freedom becomes more pronounced when the "regulars" at the resort, Lizzie, Reenie and Sweet meet a new arrival to Tawawa, named Mawu. Independent and strong-willed, Mawu voices the group's unexpressed hope for escape. Then, as the women actually meet the inhabitants of the resort for free blacks and a Quaker abolitionist named Glory, their thoughts of freedom pervade the atmosphere for the rest of Part I.

I found the flashback in Part II, which goes back to the period from 1842-1849 and focuses on the character, Lizzie, to be jarring at first. Part I set up the major conflict for this interesting group of characters so well that I wanted to know which ones would seek the freedom right under their noses. However, since Part II takes a close-up look of how a young slave girl becomes a mistress to her owner and what this does to the fabric of his family and her resulting children, I am grateful that Perkins-Valdez structured the narrative as she did.

In Parts III and IV, the friendships among Lizzie, Mawu, Reenie, and Sweet deepen as they support each other through tragic events and discover the love of family denied them by the institution of slavery. The decision to grab freedom while they are so near it becomes complicated by many unforeseen circumstances. The novel explores the themes of power and freedom, love and dependence, all while turning an unflinching eye toward the moral complexities embodied in slavery.

When asked why she chose the title, Wench, Perkins-Valdez cites that wanted posters often listed runaway female slaves as "wenches," reinforcing a stereotype prevalent during those times that regarded black women as hypersexualized. While the word "wench" originally meant "young girl" in Middle English, it evolved to mean "wanton woman." When the word entered American English, it was applied specifically to black women. The author notes (in the interview following the text of the novel) that given the sexual servitude of her characters, the title really seemed to fit.

Wench will appeal to readers who love historic fiction, but also to those who just love a good read, strong characters, and tough questions. You can find a link to Wench by Dolen Perkins-Valdez at WVXU.org.

Chinaberry

2011-07-14T06:44:00.000-07:00

You can listen to my review of Chinaberry by James Still(edited by Silas House) on WVXU's Around Cincinnati archives.

New this spring from The University Press of Kentucky is James Still's final masterpiece, Chinaberry, edited by Silas House. Celebrated as the "Dean of Appalachian Literature," Still--a novelist, poet, short story writer and folklorist--spanned nearly two-thirds of the 20th Century in his career. At his death in 2001, he was actively working on Chinaberry which takes its title from a Texas ranch that is the backdrop for the story. Still's friends and family approached best-selling novelist. Silas House (who is also the current NEH Chair of Appalachian Studies at Berea College in Berea, KY) with the task of piecing together the papers and notes Still had stored for years in a broken leather briefcase. In a beautifully written introduction, House describes the process of editing the work while remaining true to the author's intention for plot, theme, tone and syntax. House addresses the musical craft contained in a particular sentence in this way:

"A reader could sing this line aloud if she took a notion and all the while feel the heat of the Texas sun on her neck, smell the corn baking in the fields, and see the limp leaves on the trees. A whole way of life packed into one rhythmic and lovely sentence."

The story itself, told by a small-for-his-age narrator, is both engaging and curious, and might--as the afterword by Carol Boggus notes--be at least partially autobiographical. A thirteen-year-old boy travels to Texas with his temporary guardian, Ernest, and a pair of pranksters dubbed "The Knuckleheads" for their endless mischief. It is the boy's father's wish that he experience Texas for the summer.

As the traveling companions seek employment picking cotton, the boy is quickly swept off to a cattle ranch where the owners live in the shadow of a child's death. The boy spends the next several months living with ranchers, Lurie and Anson Winters, trying to unravel the mysteries of Chinaberry's complex inhabitants and their longings.

In fact, while one of the major themes of the novel seems to be nature of memory, another important theme examines the idea of longing: the boy for his home, the Winters for a child, Lurie for a unique place in her husband's heart, Anson for his lost baby, and even the narrator's father for his beloved Texas. In their leaning toward these aching spaces in their lives, the characters cause the reader to consider the durable human spirit.

"Throughout my editing of this manuscript," says Silas House in the introduction, "it seemed very clear to me that Mr. Still wanted, more than anything, to tell the truth in this book while also leaving some mystery behind. The truth, of course is the human condition, and conveying it is a tall order for any writer. That's exactly what the haunting ending does."

Chinaberry renders the epic flavor of Texas in the early 20th Century with an artistry that places the reader in each savory second of the narrative. In the afterward, Carol Boggus weighs in on the autobiographical links to the work with this comment,:

"Whether Chinaberry is mostly fact or fiction, the result is indisputable,a beautiful, but haunting tale, a simple but complicated situation, an adventure taking a real Alabama boy into a fantasy world in Texas, then sending him back home again, changed forever."

The reader, too, is changed by these characters and their longings in their time and their place "where half the world was sky."

You can find a link to Chinaberry by James Still, edited by Silas House at WVXU.org.

Voices from the Peace Corps

2011-06-27T08:45:00.000-07:00

2011 marks the 50th year of one of the nation's most successful international aid programs, the Peace Corps. Established by President Kennedy on March 1, 1961, the Corps' reach stretches around the globe from the southern tip of South America to the remote islands of eastern Asia, continuing to bring people of all backgrounds together to promote peace, compassion, and unity.

A new release from The University Press of Kentucky, Voices from the Peace Corps: Fifty Years of Kentucky Volunteers by Angene Wilson and Jack Wilson, takes a personal look at the experiences of Kentuckians who served in the Peace Corps, featuring the oral histories of six returned volunteers with strong Kentucky ties who span five decades of the Corps' history.

The book is the ninth volume in a series of Kentucky oral histories entitled Kentucky Remembered: an Oral History Series. Both Angene and Jack Wilson served in the Peace Corps themselves. For this project, they conducted eighty-six interviews, shaping the many stories into a whole that links the individual to the collective--much as the Peace Corps does by its very design.

In the first chapter entitled, "Why We Went," the authors include oral histories to explain the motivation to service. While the Kennedy factor,Viet Nam, career preparation, Peace Corps commercials, international experience, prior community service, mentors, and practical idealism are examined as motivators, the oral histories reveal highly individual reasons for joining up.

For example, Martin and Patsy Tracy, who served in Turkey from 1965-1967, married during their sophomore year of college at Murray State. While spending time with international students, they were challenged to experience the relative poverty of the wider world.

As Martin remembers, "I had always wanted to have an international experience...I've always had a fascination with how other people live and a sense of adventure."

While Patsy admits, "Martin was more international than I was. I had a firsthand living experience with hard times. Martin was more middle class, and he wanted to find out what the world of service in a rural or poor international community would be like. It wasn't my idea; it was Martin's idea to explore the Peace Corps."

From the next decade, the Wilsons introduce us to Rona Roberts, who served in the Philippines from 1973-1975 and grew up on a 450-acre working farm on a dirt road in Wayne County, KY. When her mother became a school librarian, the many books that came into her house began Rona's fascination with travel. Accelerated by her mother's involvement in the Farm Bureau Women's German placement program, Rona became well-acquainted with a German family when her mother hosted one of the German students.

"Jump forward to the Viet Nam War era," says Rona. "I always had a stubborn sense about fairness and equity. And I believed strongly that women should be drafted if men were going to be drafted. I had a strong sense about service. I believed that national service was extremely important, and I still do."

Rebecca Roach, of Middletown, OH served in Liberia from 1988-1989. A farmer's daughter and Morehead State University graduate, she has always considered herself Southern. She explains a generational promise as part of her reason for joining the Peace Corps:

"We were raised Pentecostal and my grandmother always wanted a missionary in the family. When she conceived my mother, she dedicated her to missions. My mother never went on to be a missionary, but she really pushed me toward international travel," Roach says, though she adds that her mother was motivated by a belief that Rebecca had a gift for working with people.

Sarah Cross Oddo, who served in Jamaica from 1993-1995 cites meeting some returned Peace Corps volunteers as part of her motivation to serve. Born and raised in Lexington, KY, she majored in environmental geology and spent a summer working as a maid in Yellowstone National Park. There she had a roommate who was applying to the Peace Corps.

"When I was a kid I remember seeing the (Peace Corps) commercial where people were all fishing, and I always thought that looked like great fun. I thought I wanted to go to a village in Africa and fish with all the villagers," says Oddo. She also remarked that her family had always lived in the same house in Lexington, and that she had craved a rural experience.

Aaron Schraberg who served in China from 2004-2006, grew up Jewish in Kentucky. After receiving a BA in English with a concentration in creative writing from University of Kentucky, he was weighing his options: law school, a job, or leave the U.S. and see what's out there. Schraberg describes his thought process in the following:

"I really wanted to broaden my perspective, wanted to see what it was like to live in another culture. So, my thought process was: I'm young: I have many years to do graduate studies or begin working." Schraberg goes on to admit that he wanted some adventure and that a friend was considering signing up with him. An internet search provided him with more motivation as he read about the the program's mission and goals.

The Wilsons follow these Peace Corps volunteers through the other chapters about the application process, training, living conditions, the hardest issues faced, coming home, and the feeling that they are forever changed by the experience as "citizens of the world." There are also some excellent famous people stories along with charts of the interviewees and a list of the countries served by the Peace Corps since its inception. Middle-of-the-book photos allow the reader to know these exceptional people even better.

If you've been considering the Peace Corps, or just want an in-depth look at its 50-year legacy, Voices from the Peace Corps: Fifty Years of Kentucky Volunteers by Angene Wilson and Jack Wilson links the individual to the collective in a very personal way: through the words of those who served.

You can link to this book at www.wvxu.org.

Out of the Mountains

2011-05-30T23:51:00.000-07:00

While Meredith Sue Willis teaches novel writing at New York University's School of Continuing and Professional Studies, she hails from the mountains of West Virginia. Her latest collection of short stories, entitled Out of the Mountains: Appalachian Stories (from Ohio University Press, 2010) focuses on what makes 21st Century Appalachians unique. In an afterword Willis explains that part of her purpose in writing these stories was to explore what Appalachians retain and take along when they leave the mountains and also what Appalachians contribute to the larger culture in the way of insights and attitudes.

The first story, "Triangulation" sets up the relationship of Appalachians to the larger world by explaining the navigational process of locating an unknown point by the formation of a triangle. The structure of the story cleverly describes a triangle between what was going on in the world in 1917 and life events of the narrator's grandmother in Bold Camp,Wise County. While the grandmother stirs her wash in a pot over an open fire, an artist in Austria named Klimt discovers the flatness of pattern he favors by viewing a distant village through a spyglass. Meanwhile, socialist Emma Goldman is chugging through the mountains on a train, headed for prison. Out the window, she sees a woman stirring her wash over an open fire. Willis locates her ancestors at one point of a triangle in relation to the history of the 20th Century. "Here I begin to locate myself," she writes, and the reader begins a journey from the bird's eye view, a cinematic storytelling style that will gradually zoom in to the fascinating characters who people this collection.

Such a character is Merlee Savage, RN, featured in three of the stories at different points in her life, before she becomes a nurse, caring for a dying woman in her mountain vacation home, after she becomes a nurse, helping another woman overthrow the oppression of her now-dead husband, and finally in her later years, making peace with her own estranged spouse. Another recurring character is Roy Critchfield, who quits the high school baseball team and starts seeing "little harlots" everywhere after his mother leaves his brutal father. He resurfaces in another story as the scandalous interim youth minister for the First Baptist Church of Kingfield. This story, told from the point of view of a hilarious trio of elder women, shines the light on the complex mountaintop removal issue. Another character, named Elvissa--named after Elvis Presley by her mother, makes New York City and the idea of becoming Jewish, her hobby. There is even a story about how the awkwardness of homophobia can intrude on a loving family's time to grieve.

I loved this collection because it is not just about the rich folk heritage of an Appalachian past, but about how contemporary people from the mountains deal with moving out or moving on. "The Appalachian kind of moving on," says the author in her afterword, "is often fraught with loss, nostalgia, and a sharp awareness that even as we gain something, we lose." The stories from Out of the Mountains make me wish I knew these people. I probably do.

This review was originally aired on WVXU's Around Cincinnati on May 15, 2011. For an audio link, check the lower right of this page.

Ten Tongues by Cyn Kitchen

2011-04-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

Ten Tongues (2010 from Motes Books of Louisville) is author Cyn Kitchen's first book. The ten short stories in the collection explore the darker side of human nature through intimate relationships with characters reminiscent of Flannery O' Connor, James Thurber, and Cormac McCarthy.

The title story, "Ten Tongues" opens with Ruby Baird giving birth to her daughter at the altar of the First Penecostal Church of the Empty Cross. The major conflict of the story emerges immediately when the daughter, Lola, who is brought into the world with the sounds of the women "annointing Lola with their voices," cannot herself make a sound. The tension between mother and daughter is at once palpable since Ruby Baird perceives herself to be gifted at talking in tongues, described beautifully by Kitchen in these words: "Heavenly languages, quivering flicks of tongue on palate, primordial songs of celebration and lamentation." Like many of the best Flannery O'Connor stories, Ten Tongues features bizarre, sometimes disabled characters who sit in judgment of their fellow men and women. Some, like Lola, are guided by the influence of a quirky brand of fundamentalism while others are motivated by an edgy psychological force.

In the story, "Savior," an ex-marine named Paul does battle with a scatter-brained neighbor who cannot remember to keep her two dogs off of his lawn. The rage he expresses at stepping in the dog droppings and the revenge he verbalizes to his wife sets up the comic battle royale between the thoughtless bad neighbor who constantly invites him and his family to church and the tightly wound Paul, Described at the onset in these words: "Paul's marine training had filed him to a sharp edge." Like many of Flannery O'Connor's most colorful characters, Paul is intent on teaching the thoughtless neighbor a lesson, but in the process reveals both a most disturbing and human side. The beauty in Kitchen's characters is that they are so human and familiar, even in their edginess. We might not go as far as Paul in our actions, but who hasn't wanted to fling thoughtless behavior back at a clueless neighbor?

Other stories in this collection examine the war between men and women much as Thurber did with dark comedy and hapless struggle. "The Raccoon in the Wall" pits

a married couple, Faunda and Jerry, against an intruding raccoon who has set up housekeeping in their wall. I wriggled in discomfort while laughing at the escalating slapstick battle that becomes more about the marriage and less about the raccoon. Kitchen skillfully paints the opening volley of this martial warfare while giving the reader a snapshot of its ridiculousness: "Jerry appeared on the back porch wearing red flannel pants with a chaotic pattern of penguins on them, holding a mug of coffee. 'You missed a piece,' he called out to Faunda."

In the story "Settlement," the battle between men and women is carried out in the internal monologue of a woman listing belongings for a settlement agreement. Each object--printed in italics in the text of the story--brings with it a vignette about why the marriage didn't work. While Corinne cleans out her house and plans her move to an apartment, she categorizes the residue of her relationship as "pitch" or 'keep." A copy of The Thornbirds gets labeled "essential" when Corinne recalls how her husband, Tom, would never let her read it without interrupting. Again, all the stuff becomes touchstone for what didn't work in the marriage. The only comic battle in this story exists between Corinne and a loudly ticking clock, symbolic perhaps in its commentary on her need to get on with her life.

Sudden violence punctuates a few of the stories, reminding the reader of Cormac McCarthy scenes or the sudden turn of a Coen brothers movie. "How to Avoid Sex with a Man Who Weighs 300 Lbs More Than You" recounts a woman's temporary escape from her mismatched, sexless marriage. As she carelessly wanders into an affair with her seductive pastor, the pastor's wife tries to warn her why the grass may not be greener. In "Out on a Rail," Carl tries to piece together the last minutes of his former lover's life. He theorizes that it must have been an accident since someone who had survived the Iraqi War and a brutal husband would want to be there for her kids.

Last fall when Ten Tongues was released, Cyn Kitchen celebrated her book launch by gathering with friends for a cookout on her backyard patio. In what could easily be a plot line from one of her stories, a neighbor was banging the door noisily in the background and staring at the gathering of friends. Suddenly, the neighbor stumbled forward toward the fire and threw some paper in, wandering wordlessly back to her house.

Kitchen determined that the burned text was the story, "Diagnosis," a sad, beautiful account of a couple's struggle against breast cancer. The power of Ten Tongues lies in its effortless storytelling and in the fact that we can all recognize ourselves in the dark humanity of its characters. Sometimes too clearly.

Life on the Color Line

2011-02-22T09:05:00.000-08:00

Nearing the top of my must-read book list for the past year was yet another work of nonfiction by UC's current president. Life on the Color Line: the True Story of a White Boy who Discovered He was Black was originally published in 1995 by Plume, a division of Penguin Books. The memoir chronicles Gregory Howard Williams' childhood journey from rural Virginia where he lived comfortably as a white tavern owner's son to the black neighborhoods of Muncie, Indiana during the racially charged 1950s and 60s. When Williams' parents divorce, his father suffers an economic reversal that sends Gregory and his younger brother Mike packing for their paternal grandmother's cramped home in Indiana. It is only then that Gregory Williams finds out that his dark-skinned father, Tony, is not Italian. He also learns that his mother has abandoned them, taking the two younger children with her.

In Muncie, the light-skinned Williams brothers quickly discover the limits of the color line. Their black grandmother reluctantly lets them live with her, giving them cots in a makeshift bathroom while their father--known as "Buster" in their new surroundings--drinks up any money he might earn for their food. On one of their first forays to a Muncie playground, they are pummeled by black kids for being white. Their white grandparents, who formerly welcomed them to visit in the past, do nothing to help them now. Unable to find a job, Buster Williams tells his sons that he might have to send them to an orphanage. When a kind widow, Dora Terry, intervenes to take the Williams brothers in, she becomes for Gregory a necessary mother figure who balances his father's inconsistent attempts at parenting.

Figuring prominently in this painful memoir is the intermittent voice of Williams' father. Buster Williams is a man who dreams of success for himself, quotes "Invictus," and insists that Gregory study law and not teaching, all the while fighting his own losing battle with alcohol. The author dedicates the book to his father,(along with Miss Dora Terry) crediting him with shaping his ability to envision and make a future for himself. His father's voice guides him to be sexually responsible in high school when he can't get the word "pragnant"--as his father pronounced it-- out of his head. At basketball games, football games and graduation, Williams searches for his father's face in the crowd, never being sure he can count on his presence, but knowing his words remain, taunting, advising, scolding and above all, loving. In fact, the author makes ironic use of his father's words to emphasize how indelible the effects of Muncie have become to him:

"Son, one day this will all pale into insignificance." The author argues that, on the contrary, Muncie will never pale into insignificance since it lives in him forever--a constant reminder of who he was and is.

Gregory Howard Williams survived high school in Muncie by embracing all of his heritage. In the early sixties, that meant choosing black. The black community accepted him even though he looked white, while his white teachers and coaches warned him about the dangers of crossing the color line to date white girls. After working his way through Ball State University with a full-time job as deputy sheriff, Williams went on to teach history and to study law, as his father advised. He was the Dean of Ohio State University Law School and the President of City College of New York before assuming the Presidency at University of Cincinnati in 2009. He married his high school sweetheart.

Life on the Color Line is a tribute to the unconquerable human spirit, daring us to build bridges over the boundaries that separate us from our dreams.

(This review aired on Around Cincinnati on February 20, 2011.)

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

2011-02-02T11:54:00.000-08:00

In the summer of 2010, I spent several weeks on a committee to select one book for a community to read together. Libraries all over the country do this each year, hoping to create avid readers through exciting dialogue and programming. Our task was to review some of the more remarkable titles of the past few years to find a compelling read that would somehow engage the entire community. We were given the following parameters: the book must be available in all formats and be no longer than 300 pages, the topic must gather a wide readership, and the author should be approachable for a public appearance. Oh, yes, and we may or may not want to link the book to the 10th Anniversary of 9/11.

After several weeks of tossing out the names of our favorite titles only to have them struck down for not meeting one requirement or the other, our committee was no closer to deciding on a book than we'd been on that first afternoon. Finally, one of the librarians suggested a nonfiction title that was currently on the bestseller list. What's more, the author was known for wanting to make public appearances in connection with her work. We wondered about the format requirements, but decided they would probably be in place by the time we actually needed the book. So, that evening I went out to buy science writer Rebecca Skloot's The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks published in 2010 by Crown Publishers.

I have to tell you from the onset that I am one of those people who--when faced with a nonfiction work of over 300 pages-- will go straight to the photos in the middle of the book before actually beginning to read. I know that I do it because I am wired for interesting characters, a narrative hook, and a story that unfolds. Too many works of nonfiction meander through dates and events like an uninspired history lecture. From them I have learned to take solace in the middle of the book photos, hoping somehow to postpone the inevitable rushing stream of facts by finding my footing on solid pages filled with faces and names.

I'm glad I started with the photo browsing, but not for the usual reason. From the opening quote to the closing discussion of medical ethics, Rebecca Skloot never loses sight that she is writing about a person with a story.

Here is the Elie Wiesel quote that sets up the story:

"We must not see any person as an abstraction. Instead. we must see in every person a universe with its own secrets, with its own sources of anguish, and with some measure of triumph."

Maybe you already knew about HeLa, but I had no clue. She is famous to anyone who studies cells. But Henrietta Lacks(from whom HeLa came) was a 39-year-old mother of 10 who died of cervical cancer in 1951. During her treatment for cancer at John Hopkins and without her knowledge or consent, cells from her aggressive tumor were removed from her body for study. Before that time, scientists had been trying for years to keep cells alive in culture, but the cell lines all eventually died. Henrietta's cells(HeLa) reproduced an entire generation every 24 hours, and they have never stopped. They became the first immortal cells ever grown in a laboratory.

So, where is the unfolding human story in this? Skloots learned of the scientific marvel of HeLa cells in biology class where a teacher called the immortal cell line "one of the most important things that happened in medicine in 100 years." He told the class that the woman from whom these cells were taken was named Henrietta Lacks, and almost as an after-thought added that she was black. After learning that these cells were used to develop drugs to treat everything from leukemia to Parkinson's disease, Skloots became curious about the woman behind the cells and her family. She asked her teacher if Henrietta Lacks had a family. Did they know about how useful her cells had become in science labs? His answer was, "I wish I could tell you, No one knows anything about her." But he spurred Skloot's interest by offering extra credit if she would do some research on the person. 16 years old and enrolled in that class to catch up in school, she took him up on the challenge.

Even though Rebecca Skloots went on to earn a degree in biology, the seed planted in her mind about Henrietta Lacks eventually led her to an MFA in creative nonfiction at the University of Pittsburgh. Her need to know the story behind the cells was now morphing into her master's thesis. Skloots went on to be published as a science writer in The New York Times, Discover, and Popular Science before compiling all her research about HeLa into the force of creative nonfiction that is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.

While the author advises her own creative nonfiction students at the University of Memphis not to put themselves into the story, perhaps some of the most effective passages in the narrative are when Skloots interacts with the Lacks children, gaining their trust, feeling their grief and outrage, and joining them in their quests to learn about and face the actual cells from their mother. When Deborah Lacks breaks out in welts over her excitement at seeing her younger sister's asylum records for the first time, Skloots begins to wonder if her involvement with the family is bringing them more harm than they can handle.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is a sad story of a mother who had to leave her own children in dire circumstances while her cells went on to save the lives of those she never knew. Pharmaceutical companies and research labs prospered from use of her cells while her children were carried off to mental institutions, abusive step parents, prison, and abject poverty. The book concludes with a medical ethics discussion that will surprise you. Patient rights are still very murky when it comes to tissue ownership.

In the end, my one book, one community committee decided that this book was not going to be available in the required formats in time to be our selection. And that is too bad, for It is a fascinating, heart-breaking, eye-opening read that has great potential for beginning dialogue on many issues.

Rebecca Skloots has set up a foundation for the descendants of Henrietta Lacks. No doubt she wishes that this human story-- with its significant anguish--will finally have its measure of triumph.

(This review originally aired on Around Cincinnati on February 13, 2011. To listen to the post as an mp3, go to the audiolinks to the right on this page.)

Cat Drum Buddha

2010-12-31T01:12:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year for sifting and sorting. I'm just starting the process because soon I will need to deal with quarterly taxes for Raison D'Etre sales. Before I get to that fun chore and the general end-of -the-year numbers I have to generate, I just wanted to take a few minutes to write my best of 2010 list. I am not going to judge movies or books or music in this list. Instead, I wish to tally those experiences that enriched my life in some way. My family enriches my life daily, so they are not included here.

10. Since June, when I decided I really needed to take better care of myself, I have walked around the lake more, kept regular with my yoga classes, and really have tried to eat better. The results are that I have more energy, haven't been sick much, and weigh about 12 pounds fewer. I don't want to take my health for granted. While I know that none of these practices guarantee me good health, I hope they at least make me present a little more each day so that I savor this gift of life.

9. Having a cat has helped me realize how easy it is to accept people and things for what they are. It's amazing how many times a day I will pick up things that Ruthie has knocked off my desk and just smile. I bet parents who stay up all night and change poopy diapers are laughing at me now. Even though I have had dogs for most of my life, I have never been as tolerant of mess and chaos as I am now. It took a bratty, bottle-fed kitten I found in the barn to teach me more about compassion and hanging loose. They say we find our teachers when it's time.

8. Drumming with seniors using the HealthRhythms protocol has helped me to be more creative. I actually wrote three songs this year just for my HealthRhythms sessions. "The Happy Song" went with me to two Motes Books Gatherings and even to Solatido where I led the Table Rock Writers in a sing along.

7. I booked some time at Group Effort to record my song for the Ceilidh Group's 2nd children's CD and while I was there put "The Happy Song" down with three parts just to hear what it would sound like with other voices. "Little Fallen Star" was included on the just released children's CD--which is a wonderful compilation of regional folks! Can't wait for the release events in January.

6. Presenting and performing as a soloist happened more frequently for me this year. Mostly as a drum facilitator. I took part in Fine Arts Fund Sampler Weekend with the Music and Wellness Coalition at Music Hall, with Jim Waddle at Media Bridges, and then solo at Campbell County Library. I facilitated solo for Walton Senior Center from June-October and then at Owenton Senior Center since November. In January, I start at Campbell County.

I did a public drum presentation at Kentucky Haus Artisan Center this fall. It was a happy mixture of my personal journey plus an onsite HealthRhythms session. Plus, I found out all kinds of interesting local history from Ruth Glazer, who was one of the first female drummers in her high school's marching band. She and Don Drewry swapped marching band tales and giggled through our guided imagery drum trip to Ireland.

5. But, I have also done much more as a solo songwriter this year. I had the courage to try my brand new "Happy Song" at the Motes Gathering at the Breaks in April, led the Motes Songwriting Session at Grailville in July, and even tried two very new songs at the Motifv2 : Come What May reading in October. I just recorded a very home recording of "January Thaw" for Erin Fitzgerald's "Keep Hearing Voices" show. Erin graciously captures the voices that might otherwise not be heard on her Saturday radio show. I'll link to her show here when it's available on archives just so you can get the eclectic flavor of her presentations.

Spending several days at a wonderful writing retreat in Loretto(KY) led me to formulate an actual set list of my own songs. Since I had all day in monastic surroundings to work on my songs(or not) and the evenings and meal times to enjoy the company of my fellow retreatants, I found the atmosphere conducive to editing and rewriting. I do have to confess to swimming and wine.

4. And I learned about linking to radio archives by doing book reviews on my friend Lee Hay's radio show on WVXU, Around Cincinnati. During early 2010, I learned lots about deadlines, writing reviews, and then what it takes to record them for air without passing out or driving the engineer nuts. I also got to read some excellent books.

3. Practice of Poetry workshops with Pauletta Hansel taught me much about what poetry is and isn't. I was fortunate enough to attend the spring and summer sessions, but couldn't do the fall one because of Raison D'Etre commitments. I intend to get back to the next session. And the summer Abiding Image workshop with Cathy Smith Bowers was awesome!

2. I am always enriched(calories and experience) by making tie-dyed cookies with my friend, Leona. We missed Halloween this year, but not Christmas. And I recorded us on my new Flip camera so we can measure our progress in technique.

1. The number one slot for my 2010 enrichment experience goes to Solatido, the songwriting retreat I attend in the fall that really gets me writing songs. This year I came home with three songs and the indelible experience of performing on the other writers' pieces. It was amazing! We're getting a recording of our efforts soon which will include the jaunty tunes of Mike Craver. I am so excited! Because the katydids were singing so loudly on the night of our performance, the CD is entitled September Katydids.

Happy New Year!

I hope your year was filled with love and enrichment.

The Cowtipi

2010-12-03T15:40:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in my blog for months. Mainly because I had no books to review for WVXU and my Raison D'Etre schedule became crazy busy for the fall. However, I really think I have a "braver self" worthy topic. My friend and former band mate, Dan Wilson, has entered a chapter in his life that I really hate. He knows his days are numbered.

It could be argued that we all know our days are numbered, but do we? No doctor has pronounced it to us officially. No one is using the "hospice" word in our presence...yet. But Daniel has had all these hard facts thrust in his face since November, and so have his family and friends.

I spent three recent weekends going to his cabin for Hospice Hoedowns and playing for him at a benefit with most of his other musician friends. It is what we do when we don't know what to do. Show up. Sing. Play guitar. Tell stories.

I had planned to upload some old photos to this site from a couple of summers I spent playing with Dan, my sister Violet, our good friend Vickie, Don Clare, Dan's lifelong friend, and a couple of different guitarists. I let the project slip by because I felt kind of like it would be giving up on Danny's future if everyone was lauding his past. Now, I see that it's all part of a continuum, and that most of it is just about love.

So here are a few shots from a summer cruise aboard a party barge called the Kontiki, that Dan--in typical Dan style--renamed the Cowtipi. It stuck, of course. I loved every minute I spent in a band with Dan'l Wilson. And I will miss him very much.

Important New Book on Folk Music

2010-06-22T14:06:00.000-07:00

(This review aired on the June 20th edition of Around Cincinnati on WVXU 91.7. Please go to the audio link provided by the show's producer, Lee Hay, to enjoy the music excerpts.)

New this month from Ohio University Press comes a treasure trove for all folk music lovers, Stories from the Anne Grimes Collection of American Folk Music by Anne Grimes, compiled and edited by Sara Grimes, Jennifer Grimes Kay, Mary Grimes, and Mindy Grimes who are the author's daughters.

During the 1950s when many song collectors headed to the mountains, armed with reel-to-reel tape recorders and knowledge of the Child Ballads, Anne Grimes collected in the major cities of Columbus, Cleveland, and Cincinnati as well is in most of Ohio's 88 counties. "Everybody thinks you find folk music in the hills, " Grimes told a reporter for The Columbus Citizen-Journal in 1971. "You don't," she continued, "It's in their heads."

Along her collecting journey, Grimes sang several times at the National Folk Festival and recorded on Folkways, crossing paths with folk music legends like Pete Seeger,Harry Belafonte and Bob Gibson. She also became an expert in the lore and techniques of the plucked or lap dulcimer. Many of her life's endeavors come together in this book plus companion CD collection, which is filled with interesting songs, stories, photos, and notations that illuminate Ohio history, folk lore and folk song.

Throughout the book are photos taken by Anne's husband, James W. Grimes, that reveal how much the collector's passion must have involved her entire family. The photos document Grimes' cherished song contributors as well as many of their unique instruments and styles of playing. The Grimes family sorted through thousands of tapes--housed in total at the American Folk Life Center--in order to select the 33 tracks that are featured on the CD. I'd just like to share with you some representative highlights.

Grimes explains Child Ballads, for those new to folk song collecting, as "classic British ballads that go way, way back--some from as early as the thirteenth century." She then goes on to explain about the scholar Francis James Child who classified and numbered the 305 ballads he researched and published in the late 1800s. Grimes was always running into new versions of these ballads in her collecting. In fact, a woman named Bertha Bacon of Belmont County brought Grimes one of the 27 versions of the Child ballad, "Lord Lovel" still sung in Ohio in the 1950s. The book includes the text of Bertha's version. But, I'd like you to hear a snippet of a rare tune Bertha Bacon sang for Grimes that is probably Irish in origin. It's entitled "The Death of the Devil":

Track 2--"The Death of the Devil"

Anne Grimes met up with Bob Gibson when he attended an Ohio Folklore Society meeting in search of good songs. He ended up sleeping in the basement of the Grimes home after a party. At another session in her home, he contributed this version of "Our Goodman," a Child ballad for which Anne had collected several Ohio versions.

Track 12--"Our Goodman"

In Gallipolis, Grimes recorded dulcimer player, Brodie F.Halley, as he shared his style of dulcimer playing.

Track 13 "Watermelon/Beautiful home."

The author herself demonstrates her own spirited style of dulcimer-playing in this distinctly Ohio murder ballad entitled "John Funston."

Track 15

At the National Folk Festival in St. Louis, Grimes was able to record May Kennedy McCord and Pete Seeger doing their versions of ballads at an after-concert hootenanny. Here are clips from "Hangman" and "Jefferson and Liberty."

Tracks 22 & 24

And for a final clip, I'd like to share this gem of a song about the practice of "lining out hymns." I think the performance by Bessie Weinrich of Vigo, Ohio speaks for itself. Here's "My Eyes Are Dim."

Track 29

Anne Grimes died in 2004 while working on this book about her contributors. Her family decided that it was work too important not to be finished. If Ohio's place in folk song is near to your heart, Stories from the Anne Grimes Collection of American Folk Music will bring you hours of pleasure. If you are a scholar of rare songs or a seeker of ballads, this well-documented resource can steer you toward more gems in your own backyard.

Wendell Berry and Religion

2010-06-01T10:36:00.000-07:00

Wendell Berry and Religion , edited by Joel James Shuman and L. Rogers Owens, is subtitled Heaven's Earthly Life. Published by The University Press of Kentucky in 2009, this collection of theology-based essays is part of a larger series of books entitled Culture of the Land, a Series in the New Agrarianism.

The series preface explains agrarianism as "a comprehensive worldview that appreciates the intimate and practical connections that exist between humans and the earth." The editor goes on to describe agrarianism as "our most promising alternative to the unsustainable and destructive ways of current global, industrial, and consumer culture."

The introduction to the essays, written by co-editor Joel James Shuman, lays the foundation for how Wendell Berry's body of work is important to Christian thought by dividing the essays into the following sections: Good Work, Holy Living, Imagination, and Moving Forward.

By way of introducing the "good work" essays, Shuman reminds the reader of a persistent theme in Berry's writing: women and men are created to work and to do so well. The essays in this section examine what good work means to a university professor who ponders whether a Christian university can avoid overspecialization, to a medical school professor who requires his fourth year students to read Berry in order to better treat the whole human being, to a lawyer who milks goats in the morning while contemplating Berry's idea of "legal friendships", and to a pastor who sees his proper work as nourishing the common life of his congregation.

The other sections of the book follow suit as the essayists apply their experiences to Berry's agrarian viewpoint of the delicate, dependent relationship between humanity and the earth. In a well-constructed argument Elizabeth Bahnson cites her own dilemma with birth control pills in "The Pill is like...DDT?" Citing recent studies about declining amphibian populations, Bahnson wonders about the far-reaching effects of current hormonal methods on both women and the environment. As an organic farmer, she worries about adding chemicals to the earth to control fertility of the land That sensitivity to organic farming led her to question the methods we use to control fertility in humans. The very word "control" in relation to nature suggests to agrarians that human beings have lost their sense of place in the hierarchy of creation.

Other interesting discussions in the "Holy Living" section include the importance of community gardens to the ministry of a North Carolina church and an Old Testament scholar's discussion of the value of land in the Bible, exemplified by the words for "human" and "land" in Hebrew, the closely related "Adam/adamah."

Perhaps my favorite essay in this section is an agrarian explanation of theological concepts in "The Dark Night of the Soil"--love that title-- by Norman Wirzba. The author explains the complete surrender of the soul to a higher understanding by equating it to the body's ultimate return to serve the dark stillness of the earth. Supporting this theological discussion of the “dark night of the soul” are beautiful passages from Wendell Berry's poetry:

"Taking us where we would not go--Into the boundless dark.
When what was made has been unmade
The Maker comes to his work."

The final two sections of the book encourage readers to imagine better ways toward stewardship of the earth. While Philip Muntzel posits an embedded hopefulness in the "God-world cycle," Scott Williams explores the "alien landscapes" created by the violent practice of mountain-top removal--for which we are all culpable whenever we perform the simple act of switching on the lights in our homes. A final essay by Charles R. Pinches uses Berry's characters to suggest how Christians can join contemporary political debate without becoming divided into tribal sectarians versus cosmopolitans.

Wendell Berry and Religion will probably find its way into various university classrooms where discussions on theology, philosophy, nature, and ecology flourish. It would no doubt make a wonderful text for an honors seminar including the good work of establishing a community garden. Or, if you work your hands in the dark soil and don't mind turning over a few words for some fertile truth, it just might be the collection for you to cultivate.

This review originally aired May 30, 2010 on WVXU's Around Cincinnati, Lee Hay, producer. To listen to an audio version of the review from WVXU's archives, click on the link to the right of the blog.

Power of Drums

2010-05-25T11:35:00.000-07:00

Many years ago, I was teaching high school English in a rural high school in Northern Kentucky, Oh, we were classified by our system as a "suburban" high school, but we knew the truth. We knew which kids wouldn't be there when the tobacco had to be stripped and which kids would definitely be in a tree stand the first day of deer season waiting on a buck. Not to mention that the principal knew exactly which fishing hole to raid on Senior Skip Day. Shoot, some freshman boys came to me one fall, John Deere hats-in-hand, because they wanted to start a "Huntin' and Fishin' Club," and they thought I looked like someone who knew my way around a gun and a rod. They were actually half right.

Now, it's true that some of these kids came from the city down the hill and had been kicked out of their own schools for some kind of bad behavior or another. Then we, the teachers and students of "that school up on the ridge" were supposed to somehow either scare these miscreants straight or give them so much country loving that they turned into decent human beings. Either way, it was a tall order. But it was in this climate that I had some of my best moments in teaching. For some reason, tall orders call for a lot of creative thinking and passion.

I don't know when it happened exactly, but one day in the mid 1990s, I was reading the Kentucky Post when I saw a headline that stopped me from skimming the rest of the news that day: "Banks to Lead Drum Workshop." To most readers that might have meant a couple of local banks were sponsoring an arts event, but to me it meant one thing: Dennis Banks, the Ojibwa Activist, was somehow coming to my neck of the woods. I drove to the Carnegie that day to hunt down Arlene Gibeau in her office. I had to get into that workshop! Never mind that I had never played drums in my life.

As it turned out, that was the least of my worries since I found out on the first night that we were going to make drums before we could even think about playing them. Then we were going to learn a bunch of songs from Dennis' culture and put on a concert--in one week. He said this to us like a bunch of mostly white people from Kentucky did this all the time and should have no problem cutting drum heads out of Elk hide and lacing them together to make a drum fit for a concert sung in vocables and Ojibwa. Oh, yeah, and Dennis was not fond of the word "play" as it referred to drum. We were going to learn to make drums and to drum and how to behave in the presence of a drum. He had his work cut out for him. Talk about tall orders.

Yet, by the end of that week, we had each crafted our drum with the help of a partner, knew how to behave around drums, sang in syllables and other languages, dressed in red and black for our concert, and felt so good we could hardly stand it. We were transformed! I knew that I wanted this feeling for my students.

In the five years that followed, I went to the workshop each year to assist in any way I could, bringing my Dad one year, my Mom the next and finally, my good friend and teaching buddy, Karen. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was slowly building the framework for my students to follow. Once Karen became involved, the two of us went into an absolute collaborative frenzy, deciding that the act of making a drum had propelled us toward a whole new idea for a humanities course, "Celebrating the Creative Spirit." So when our principal mentioned that he wanted someone to work on piloting a Humanities Course for high school, Karen and I were ready to jump.

We jumped right into a Humanities Institute that summer where teachers from Highlands, Southgate, and Simon Kenton began to formulate ideas for their courses. The end result? Karen and I invited Dennis Banks to our school(via a TIP grant from Kentucky Arts Council) to lead our students in a week-long drum workshop. Of course, because of Dennis' travel schedule, we could only get him during the notoriously snowy month of February. Imagine our surprise when school had to be called off for a snow day during our week-long workshop, and thirteen of our twenty drum makers still showed up to work on their drums with Dennis. In that moment, Karen and I believed in the transformational power of drums! One week before, some of these kids would have ditched school for a Jerry Springer re-run. But now, consumed with the passion of filling their own tall orders, they just couldn't let themselves down.

Let Freedom Sing--a review

2010-04-01T07:26:00.000-07:00

This review aired on WVXU's Around Cincinnati on March 28, 2010. You can listen to the review by going to the audio link to the right of this blog.

Let Freedom Sing: of 19th Century Americans by Vivian B. Kline is a treasure chest of historical research wrapped up in the packaging of a novel. Published in 2009 by Outskirts Press, this imaginative work earned Kline the “Innovator, Educator, Writer Award” at the NAACP’s 54th Annual Dinner in Cincinnati. Besides illuminating the struggle for freed slaves during the difficult Reconstruction period, the author presents a fascinating look at Cincinnati’s role in the art, music, commerce, politics and social change agenda of the late 1800s.

Kline’s premise--and major structural device for the novel--is that a group of 21st Century students have gathered in their Cincinnati classroom to do research on the travels of the Fisk Jubilee Singers in order to eventually turn their collective work into a musical. In this frame story structure, the students are free to write about their findings in any form they find comfortable and are encouraged by their facilitator/teacher to work collaboratively. The historical narrative takes the form of diary entries from Ella Sheppard, letters between Maria Longworth Nichols and Susannah Gilbert, linked together with some actual narrative passages where characters interact in person. Kline frames the students’ project work with their meetings about what they intend to do, how it’s progressing, and what they finally think about the prospects of turning their historical research into a musical.

At first, I was skeptical that couching this history in multiple viewpoints would work for me as a reader. Fond as I am of unifying, distinctive voices like that of narrator, Jack Crabb, in Little Big Man, I feared I was in for a bumpy read. But Kline is so careful to get her frame story students writing in the language of the era and the stories themselves are so appealing to anyone who cares about local history, that I soon found myself discussing many of these historical figures and events with my friends and family. I was hooked in by the beginnings of baseball and totally captivated by the high-powered literary salons hosted in New York City by the Cary sisters of North College Hill.

And there are plenty of colorful characters to discuss. Here’s a partial list for your consideration: Jenny Lind, the Nightingale Singer, P.T. Barnum, promoter extraordinaire,Horace Greeley who ran unsuccessfully against Grant for the Presidency, Nicholas Longworth the Cincinnati arts patron and wine maker, Mary Todd Lincoln portrayed here as a grieving wife, Frederick Douglass the orator, Robert Duncanson the artist, and the first woman to ever run for President, Vicky Woodhull, among many others. The exciting part about the story for me was finding out the role Cincinnati and Cincinnatians had in shaping the future of Fisk University, a school located all the way down in Nashville.

Vivian B. Kline was led to write this novel when she made a puzzling addition to her collection of historic picture postcards. When no one in our area was able to identify the group of black performers photographed in
antebellum clothing, Mrs. Kline set out to find the story behind the postcard.
A library in Harlem ultimately identified the group as the first Jubilee Singers who traveled the country--and eventually parts of Europe-- to raise funds for their struggling Fisk University. This post card sent Kline on her remarkable research mission that resulted in Let Freedom Sing: of 19th Century Americans which has the interesting subtitle: An Historical Novel, or Could it Be a Musical? With the author already transforming these historical events into dramatic vignettes, letters, and diary entries and the Fisk Jubilee Singers leaving behind a published repertoire of spirituals, can a musical be far behind? Imagine the costumes!

Eli the Good--a review

2010-03-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

(This review aired on WVXU's Around Cincinnati on March 14, 2010. Check links to the right of this blog to listen to the review.)

Eli the Good, the fourth novel by Kentucky’s favorite son, Silas House, is shelved as a work of young adult literature. But the story and scope of the novel transcend this label, as House frames the events of America’s Bicentennial through the 10-year-old eyes of Eli Book. Themes like the power of friendship, the lingering effects of war, self-acceptance, and love of family--even in the face of stark disagreement--lift this account of the summer of 1976 to the level of the 1930s as decribed by Scout Finch( in To Kill a Mockingbird) or Buddy (in “A Christmas Memory.”)

In the spring of 2009, I attended one of House’s writing workshops where he shared his notion of the essential ingredients of story. A good story, according to him, must have both a mystery and a love story. By his own yard stick, House creates a memorable character in Eli, who eavesdrops his way around the shadowy adult mysteries of the Book household discovering the hidden love stories that might keep his family from flying apart.

Mysteries abound from the onset. Why has Eli’s free-spirited Aunt Nell returned to the family? What ancient disagreement with his sister still nags at Stanton Book’s heart? Why does Stanton wake the family with his screaming? And why does Eli’s sister, Josie, goad her parents at every turn? Eli hides under tables, risks the spidery space beneath the porch, and hangs in the hallways, hoping to piece together clues from the adult conversations. When the clues tantalize, but don’t quite add up, he enlists his best friend and neighbor, Edie, to help him plunder his father’s letters home from Viet Nam. The answers aren’t quite what Eli expects.

The love stories in this novel are complex and beautiful. Part of Eli’s yearning stems from the overt devotion he witnesses in his parents’ love for each other. He sometimes feels invisible to them as they exchange meaningful gazes and brush each other’s hands. Another love story exists between Loretta Book and her sister-in-law, Nell, as they revel in each other’s sisterly company and dance in the rain together. And yet another love story finds best friends Edie and Eli, confiding secrets and sharing their love of nature, in the easy pre-dawn of adolescence while Eli’s sister, Josie, suffers the pouty, full-blown drama of teenage love and rebellion.

House underscores the mounting tensions for the characters with frequent allusions to the music of the time. Eli and his mother dance to Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl,” Nell sings Dylan snippets sadly from the porch swing and advises the ever-skeptical Josie about which Dylan tunes will “rip your guts out,” and later Nell gives Eli the title, “Mother Nature’s Son,” a song she urges Stanton to play on the Gibson while she sings. Following this song, an explosive argument foreshadows that some mysteries will soon be laid bare for the Book family.

As usual, the characters in a House novel are presented in precise, intimate detail--from Eli’s adoration of his mother’s easy, natural beauty at the Fourth of July celebration to his horror at seeing nothing behind his father’s war-traumatized eyes when Eli casually horseplays in a thunderstorm. Important, lyrical scenes develop in nature, backed by bird call, witnessed by foxes and silent beech trees. When darkness falls, House treats us to characters’ favorite words, like “gloaming.”

“Eli the Good” is the title Nell confers upon her struggling young nephew to start him on his path to identity. Kings titled “the Good” rather than “the Great” were much more likely to be kind to their people, she explains. As she dubs him king of his backyard, the reader knows she is hoping he will grow up to be a kind man, able to face the cruelties of the world without becoming part of them. I was sorry to conclude my visit with the Books. Their mysteries and love stories--in the hands of Silas House’s poetic and musical craft--add up to one good story.

Come and Go, Molly Snow

2010-02-26T14:56:00.000-08:00

Come and Go, Molly Snow is a book about grief, redemption, and music. Published in paperback this past October by The University Press of Kentucky, the novel was Mary Ann Taylor-Hall’s first, garnering praise as a hardback from The Los Angeles Times, Publishers Weekly, and People Magazine--just to name a few sources of acclaim. There was even talk of a movie version that ultimately collapsed under the weight of a bad script. That’s unfortunate, because the story is intrinsically cinematic in its flashback format, capturing everything from atmospheric breakdown scenes to spirited bluegrass music “breakdowns” through the plucky voice of Carrie Mae Mullins, an extraordinary woman fiddler who enters the mostly male world of bluegrass music.

The story begins with Carrie reflecting on how she ended up on a farm near Lexington, KY recovering from a breakdown, barely trusted by her two elder hosts to wield a knife for pitting peaches. The author uses the frame story of Carrie’s recovery to reveal gradually one of the major questions of the novel: how does one get beyond the death of a child?

The challenge of writing about grief hinges on the writer’s ability to make the inner landscape of a character accessible to the reader. For Judith Guest, author of Ordinary People, that challenge was met by alternating the inner suffering of two major characters, the grieving father and son. Both tell the story in first person, letting the reader piece together the tragedy beneath the surface from two viewpoints. While most first person narrators are by definition “unreliable,” as the reader only gets one subjective point of view, Taylor-Hall builds trust in Carrie Mae the same way J.D. Salinger had readers believing Holden Caulfield, by creating a character with a distinct, authentic voice. We believe and feel her descent into the monotone of grief because we have already heard her passionate voice describe the myriad emotions, sounds and sensations of playing in an ensemble.

In fact, music permeates the entire novel. Carrie describes her attraction to the handsome band leader, Cap, through their harmony singing, when she says,“harmony’s all there is or needs to be, when it’s right” and characterizes her often absent father’s depth of blues as “oh, my daddy was not easy listening.” The music even extends into Carrie’s thoughts on language when she considers the onomatopoeia of one word:

“Cease--what a word, like the breath going out of everything.”

And the music of Taylor-Hall’s language as it filters through Carrie set me jotting down quotes I wanted for later, just because they were surprising and succulent. As Carrie struggles with whether or not there is something after this life, the task in front of her of slicing peaches produces this insight:

“The gold, moist slices, red at the inner edge, gather the light to them. They look like light itself, as if to say, ‘You want to believe in something, believe in peaches.’”

The other characters in this novel serve to guide Carrie toward her eventual path through their examples--good and bad--and through their ample humanity. The sumptuous Cap, heart-throb to the masses, yet clueless about his own desires, the hardworking, nurturing granny, Ona, with her own tragic loss, and the ravenous-for-adventure retired banker, Ruth, who seeks the Holy Land and just maybe another fling, Pearls Girls, the all-women band formed by friends, Louis, the hard-driving banjo picker who resents Carrie’s “invasion” of his all-male band, the lively Molly Snow herself, who steps in and out of the narrative bringing Carrie both joy and pain, and spectres of all kinds who haunt Carrie in their longings, including her parents and a ghost called Little Lady Kidwell.

This novel poses many questions about the nature of existence, but thankfully leaves the answering to each of us on our own paths with our own casts of colorful characters. Come and Go, Molly Snow is a book for those who ask the important questions, but don't expect the answers to be easy.

HealthRHYTHMS and Fine Arts Fund Sampler Weekend

2010-02-26T09:22:00.000-08:00

"Have drums, will travel" was our mantra for Creative Aging, The Coalition for Music and Wellness, and me for Fine Arts Fund Sampler Weekend. On Saturday February 20, Jim Waddle--board member for Creative Aging and volunteer coordinator of their drumming offerings--and I met up at Media Bridges in downtown Cincinnati for an hour of intergenerational drumming. We had a circle of about 27 drummers for our first session representing all age groups from toddlers to seniors.

As we finished up a successful session, volunteers from FAF and Media Bridges helped us pack the drums back in my Jeep for a drive over to Music Hall where an all-day art expo for kids was taking place called "Get Smart with Art." We formed a very large drumming circle with kids, parents, Music and Wellness Coalition, and Creative Aging drummers. The kids used drums and percussion that they made earlier at the expo, or joined us on some of the wide-array of Remo drums we brought in. My fondest memory of this session is seeing a young man from our Media Bridges session rejoin us so that he could play the gathering drum in this huge circle. The expression on his face as he wielded the big mallet was one of absolute joy.

On Sunday, February 21, I toted the drums over to Campbell County Public Library in Cold Spring for another lively intergenerational circle featuring some drummers from the Campbell County Senior Center, lots of parents and kids, and even Pam Temple from WNKU and wild carrot. She was performing at the library later and just thought it might be fun to join in.

I usually present some kind of program for Fine Arts Fund Sampler, either with Raison D'Etre, or solo. But this one was so exciting because of the full participation of the attendees who found their "walking talking rhythm" in their names and shared drumming. (photo courtesy of Janet Arno, Campbell County Library.)

A is for Appalachia and What Comes Down to Us

2010-02-17T12:47:00.000-08:00

Two titles from University Press of Kentucky light the way toward better understanding of a culture and a craft. A is for Appalachia!,written by Linda Hager Pack and illustrated by Pat Banks, lifts a lamp to the history, geography, and culture of the collaborators’ beloved heritage. In What Comes Down to Us: 25 Contemporary Kentucky Poets, Jeff Worley spotlights the diversity and vitality of modern verse in the Commonwealth. Both books enlighten in their method of presentation and rich content.

I chose to pick up the children’s book first, of course. Drawn in by the marvelous cover art by master water colorist and Kentucky Arts Council Roster Artist, Pat Banks, I couldn’t wait to see why novelist Silas House declared this book “the perfect read.” Could it be because in his recent blog, A Country Boy Can Surmise, he had declared “Appalachia” to be the perfect word in that the letters seem to depict the rising and falling mountainscape with a little moon dotting the “i”?

Or could it be the perfect read because it is organized like an old-time children’s reader for teaching the alphabet by presenting a word and a picture for each new letter to aid the pupil’s comprehension?

My reading lesson on Appalachia began with the letter “A” which is for “Appalachia,” a region and culture defined by Pack in her text along side a breathtaking mountain vista created by Banks. The effect is stunning: here’s what the place encompasses, now witness it’s beauty and essence.

My lesson continued with some predictable forays into the letters “B” and “C” for “baskets” and “coal.” Since I was already well-schooled in some aspects of Appalachia, I expected these lessons. But I was completely surprised and delighted by the honest dichotomy between churchgoing ways and joy of living presented in the letter “D.” Pack handles that divide in her wry commentary on the dulcimer and fiddle as she advises the “youngin’s” not to view “the devil’s box” boldly explained and illustrated on the page before them.

Another interesting lesson is “J” is for “Jack Tale” which includes a text version of the tale superimposed on a beanstalk illustration that rivals the beauty of any fairy tale book I knew as a child. Well-presented also are “N” is for “Native Appalachians” supported by the clever inclusion of the Cherokee alphabet and “Y” is for “Yarb doctor” emphasizing the healing role herbs and plants play in the remote mountain regions.

Pack teaches children’s literature at Eastern Kentucky University, so it is easy to see how this book could be used by teachers to springboard a unit on Appalachia. But more importantly, Silas House was right. This is the perfect read to share with those you love.

Presenting poets chronologically is common in anthologies; however, Jeff Worley, a poet and professor himself, sheds light on the poetic process by following each set of poems in What Comes Down to Us with a brief biography and the poet’s commentary on the sometimes mystical matter of craft. The effect on me as a reader was surprising. Normally I would want to skim through a book like this reading the people I know about, saving the new folks for later. Instead, I found the format of first, writer’s face and birth date,then, selected poems, then, biography,and finally,reflections on craft and influences tantalizing enough not to “jump the order.” It was almost as if the title and format enforced a cosmic flow leading “down to us,” as the title suggests. By the end, I felt I had witnessed a stellar poetry reading with mini-workshop, all under my humble living room lamp.

The subjects for this over 100-poem collection include joy, death, family relations, and Kentucky history. It would be hard to pick favorites amid the exquisite verse, but I will share a few hard-to-shake glimpses.

I was smacked in the face by the imagery in Wendell Berry’s “The Man Born to Farming.”

Instructed in the mystery of all craft by Richard Taylor’s “Notes for a Manual on Form.”

Appreciated the importance of who’s telling the tale in Frank X Walker’s “Revisionist History.”

Experienced the power of a “made thing” -- like a poem that can distill emotions from disparate experiences-- with Leatha Kendrick in “Refusing a Spinal.”

Wondered with Frederick Smock about Cassius Clay’s gold medal at the bottom of the Ohio River.

Read the skies and predicted a moon landing with Nikky Finney’s “Black Orion.”

Laughed uneasily and inevitably at an outdoor wedding gone wrong with Kathleen Driskell.

This collection is a must-read for anyone interested in the scope and craft of contemporary poetry. What Comes Down to Us affirms Kentucky’s place in the literary landscape while shining a light on the poetic process itself.

This review first aired on WVXU's Around Cincinnati with award-winning host, Lee Hay. An audio link is included at the bottom of this blog.

Reviews on "Around Cincinnati"

2010-02-17T11:44:00.000-08:00

I've been reviewing a few books--mostly having to do with Kentucky or music--for the radio culture and arts magazine, "Around Cincinnati" which airs each Sunday evening at 7pm on WVXU. I will be posting my reviews here following their air dates with a link for you to listen to them posted at the bottom of this blog. Please feel free to give me some feedback.

Making it Easy at Adult Daycare Drumming

2010-02-09T07:27:00.000-08:00

Making it Easy at Adult Daycare Drumming

As a former teacher, I was often cast in the role of "facilitator," which is usually defined as "one who makes a task easy for the participants." The role of a HealthRHYTHMS drumming facilitator embodies so much of that description in that we bring the drums, form the circle, follow the protocol, make a sort of plan for the session, and then begin. The interesting thing is that every group is different. So "making it easy" for a group of independent, lively seniors who gather regularly for social purposes might involve inviting them to start a rhythm that turns into an expressive groove (with dancing!) While an adult daycare session might stretch the facilitator's notion of protocol since the participants are limited by so many physical and mental restrictions. How does one make drumming easy when attention spans are short, medications might hamper the ability to participate, and occasionally someone sets off the door alarm? I'm starting to re-format my notions about the HealthRHYTHMS protocol to fit the adult daycare experiences I've had so far. Here's hoping this helps anyone in a similar circumstance.

1. Insist on a circle. Many adult daycare centers include a large central room that can accommodate 50 or more clients per session. While arranging these folks into one large drum circle--given the amount of wheelchairs and walkers present--might seem difficult for the caregivers, I've found that if all participants are arranged in concentric circles, the level of participation increases. When we tried this approach last week at an adult daycare--after an especially chaotic week before--most of the 50 clients present were able to take part in the drumming. Before, there was a small circle for those who wanted to participate while the rest of the clientele observed, some of them loudly disengaged.

2. The wellness step is essential for this group. While I certainly wouldn't include full-body yoga stretches with adult daycare, these drummers need the full relaxation cycle for their overall well-being. I start with some simple deep breathing and work up to some range of motion exercises for the head, neck, arms and hands. I search for energizing music for this step with a little underlying beat to prepare the group for our eventual drumming.

3. Ice breakers are tough. HealthRHYTHMS protocol calls for some kind of ice breaker involving hand-held shakers. Just getting something in the hands of 50 participants in a few minutes is really challenging. Luckily, the adult day caregivers are very helpful in accomplishing this if you let them know your expectations. So far, I've only been able to use the "Shaker Share," where participants show their personal style of playing the shakers. This is one area where I really need to get more creative for the needs of the group. Maybe inviting the caregivers to model some shaker styles would empower the participants to try their own.

4. The ABCs of drumming need to happen each session. While it might seem repetitive to the facilitators, not everyone remembers which end of the beater to use on which drum or what part of the drum yields the deeper sound. I remind every group I facilitate about this, never assuming that they know. Sometimes in the rush to "get to the drums" we forget that some of the drummers may be unsure of their own power to make sound. I'm learning that it's also important to switch drums at least once per session so that each drummer gets a wider experience.

5. Rhythmic naming is a staple. While pounding out the rhythm to several participants' name is always a good way to welcome new drummers to the circle, the regulars require a little variation. One young man at my sessions likes to introduce the guests he meets by drumming their names. Before the holidays, we drummed the first lines of favorite carols and then sang a verse.

6. Entrainment--or what do we do now? One of my most humbling experiences while conducting a music residency for an elementary school was working with the pre-schoolers. Although I only saw them one half hour per school day, they completely wore me out. Why? Well, if you've never worked with a group of 3 and 4 year olds, they require frequent shifts in focus and lots of movement. Invariably, the pre-school teacher and I would end up leading some kind of musical conga line for one of the songs for the day. While I am not equating adult daycare clients with pre-school, they do share some characteristics. One of the most prominent ones I've noticed is the need for a shift in focus. Because there are so many variations in physical and mental capacity, there exists no common pace. So far, the only way I've found to address the diversity is to try some groove, some sing along, more groove, more sing along.

It's important, according to Christine Stevens, HealthRHYTHMS co-founder and trainer, to wait for the group to respond. Sometimes my frustration at changing the focus is caused by my inability to wait for that awkward silence to end. Too often facilitators jump in with their own idea before the participants have a chance to show their power. How empowering is the drumming when we "control" its every aspect?

7. Inspirational beats. Assuming that adult daycare folks have nothing to discuss in the sharing portion of the protocol would be a big mistake. I can see each session that several of them are upset by the prospect of being "warehoused" among strangers. Even with the caring work of the caregivers to make them feel at home, newcomers to adult daycare are often frightened or angry at their loss of independence. Some clients are completely lucid but limited in their physical participation while others are physically strong but struggle with dementia. There are plenty of stray feelings that can be pounded out on a drum and talked about. Last week one participant started a gospel song called "Already Done" that expressed both her acceptance of her circumstances and her joy at relinquishing her cares to a higher power. The beat and response were infectious.

8. Guided Imagery. To bring each drumming session to a calm, peaceful conclusion that enhances the health of the participants, HealthRHYTHMS protocol prescribes a guided imagery experience. This is meant to be a session with soft drumming and background music, guiding the drummers through an exotic scenario that results in shared experience and relaxation. This step has been my greatest challenge at adult daycare because of all the differences I have described thus far. In some sessions, loud talking from caregivers trying to resolve an issue, door alarms sounding, or even members of the circle getting up and moving around have reduced the effectiveness of the experience. Since I did guided imagery with high school students with behavior issues, I know that the key is to build a habit and a culture for the activity. Once the group feels the pattern of the protocol, they usually accept it and reap some benefit. After four sessions, I finally had what I consider to be a successful guided imagery this past week. A great deal of the success can probably be attributed to the fact that I insisted on a circle which gave everyone a similar focus and seemed to increase concentration on the guided imagery.

Sometimes "making it easy" is a little more complicated than we think. But certainly worth it. If you have any facilitating experiences with drum groups, I'd love to read some comments.

Drums for Health

2009-07-01T13:17:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to add my facilitator's logo to this site. I'm looking forward to working with seniors, schools, and folks who just want to relax and make some music.

Did I mention that I love drums?

2009-06-15T11:41:00.000-07:00

I was all set to head out for Whitesburg with my sister Rosanne for some girl time on the Cumberland when I received an e-mail from Creative Aging about a drum training. Anyone who makes it inside my humble abode can tell two things about me at once:

1. Hello Kitty is everywhere. (Don't ask.)
2. The livingroom and office are filled with drums.

So, yeah. I cancelled my much-awaited jaunt to Whitesburg, KY where I knew a great music and crafts festival happens every year and signed up for the great unknown based on one word, "drum."

Way back in the 1990s I saw a headline in the Kentucky Post that read "Banks to hold drum workshop." I think I drove to the Carnegie Performing and Visual Arts Center that very day to sign up. I wish I could tell you that I had some longterm vision for how this "drum thing" would lead me and contribute to the overall good. However, I can't. I just knew that I had to be in the workshop with Dennis Banks, and that drums were important to me. After five years of both taking and assisting with that particular workshop, I made several drums myself and helped hundreds of Dennis' students complete their drums. In those workshops, I learned that it wasn't really about drums, but about what a community can accomplish together.

So, this past weekend I was reminded of that lesson when I trained to become a HealthRHYTHMS facilitator. HealthRHYTHMS is the brainchild of Dr. Barry Bittman and Christine Stevens who have developed a research-backed protocol for drumming that actually improves the health of participants. I am excited and honored that Creative Aging chose me to attend this phenomenal workshop along with board member, James Waddle and Director of Eldermount, Kathy Baker. I can't wait to see what changes drumming in this protocol can effect for seniors in my area. I can't wait to apply this protocol in school residencies.

So, here in my first blog, I just want to assure those of you who feel very "obsessed" with something in your life, that sometimes the universe is trying to speak to us in terms we understand. The universe knows that dangling a big ole drum before me is going to do the trick. Why say, "Hey, Roberta! It's time for you to get more involved in your community?" When you can just say "drums." And, of course, I'll be there.