The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

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

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

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

(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

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

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

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!