Reflections on Becoming an Ancestor
By Elizabeth V. Hallett
“The problem with being human,” said the sage, with a hearty laugh, is that you have to do something!”
Next comes: “How do you want to define your humanity?”
In my case, there have been work and activist-related positions overlapping some of those years. As with most of us, the “assignments” manifest for a time, and then morph into something else with life changes.
As for many, my first awakenings to the movement for peace and justice came in the sixties as we grappled with The Draft and Americans my age, mostly men, were coming back in coffins from the war in Vietnam. I majored in American Studies at Miami U. of Ohio. There were about twenty-eight of us on campus willing to appear at an anti-war demonstration. While our campus was isolated and conservative, I was aware that there was a large community of war resistance mobilizing across the country. I wanted to be a part of that.
Along with the huge controversy over the Vietnam War, we were grappling as a country with the struggle for civil rights and confronting the enormous racism of our culture. We faced the exponential violence which has been one of its by-products. We lived in horror through the assassinations of John F. Kennedy in 1963, of Malcom X in 1965 and of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy in 1968. All this as I graduated in “American Studies,” trying to make sense of our country; the cultures of violence, the rich creative history of the arts, technology, human potential. Like you, I am still trying to envision how we harness the gifts of our time.
For many of us, the seventies and eighties were a time of Waking Up in the Nuclear Age, as described by psychologist and friend Chellis Glendinning in her book by that name. Many voices imprinted new views, new communities, new strategies. The dialogue over racism, environmental protection and degradation, women’s rights and gun control continued and expanded, took on different shapes.
The movements for social justice that were seeded by resistance in earlier decades gained traction and grew into the seventies and eighties. We were about facing the inescapable implications of our war culture and the spiraling production of nuclear arms. It was the time of the Nuclear Freeze Movement, the Central American Wars, the fights for environmental protection and racial justice, discourses on sexuality and diversity, the AIDS epidemic, and the abortion rights movement.
In 1987, I became involved in the nonviolent Nuremberg Actions Vigil. This was resistance at Concord Naval Weapons Station outside of Walnut Creek in California, protesting the shipment of weapons to Central America during the Contra war in Nicaragua. There were over 2500 arrests and 65 court cases applying the Nuremberg Principles to justify civil disobedience and refusing orders of the state in protest of crimes against war, crimes against peace, and crimes against humanity. There is a big story there that I will tell, perhaps, at a different time. It was in that movement that I learned how vast the Beloved Community is and can be. It was nationwide.
Although I would not know it for several years, Ashland’s Peace House was born in October of 1982, out of the Nuclear Freeze movement, helping to pass a bill that made the city a nuclear-free zone, and aligning with International Mayors for Peace to form a web of like-minded to groups to educate and advocate for de-escalation of nuclear warheads and against the proliferation of nuclear weapons. Life seemed then, as it does now, fragile in the face of political absurdities based upon money, greed, and a senseless logic about how nuclear weapons could protect anyone.
After my daughter was born in 1988, there was a move from San Francisco to the Rogue Valley and overlapping periods of attending births, studying Reiki, and cultivating a lay chaplaincy; overseeing a dementia care center; and yes, work with Peace House.
So, it has been nine years this time, as well as three-to-four years in the 90’s, shared partly with Ruth Coulthard. We have walked in the footsteps of Marilyn Lenehan; Marjorie Kellogg; Nancy Spencer; Dot Fisher Smith; John Stahmer; Ellen Craine and Selene Aitken; Herb Rothschild; and many more, while being sponsored at first by the national office of the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR). Some of you will recognize and remember these names. Others may not. Time passes.
The point is more that there has been a continuum of advocacy for human rights, for peace, for community awareness and a culture of compassion. We walk in the footsteps of our ancestors.
Through all these transitions, I was consistently reminded of the resilience and interconnected-ness that arise within communities facing adversity. Each new challenge brought together diverse individuals, united by a shared commitment to peace and healing. The journey was not just about organizational roles or activism, but about forging deep relationships and finding purpose amid uncertainty.
“The problem with being human,” said the sage with a twinkle, “is that you have to do something.”
We choose to lift up and magnify the belief that creative, nonviolent ways to solve problems are precious keys to the survival of our very humanity; the keys to creating a New World. Think how much money spent on weaponry, rockets, and war could be used to educate, plant, grow, feed, and build healthy humans, a healthy planet. Find the Golden Light within and let’s keep going!
A nonprofit director never does their work alone. Most immediately, I offer appreciation to our Peace House Board of Directors, to Pat Murray our stellar Office Manager, and to Meg Wade for stepping up to take on the role of director. More appreciation is due to our Uncle Food’s Diner team, including our chef, David Jimenez; Josh Rohde, our van driver; Anney Maricle, our dishwasher; and the many, many cooks and prep volunteers that produce over 100 meals each week. Thanks also to past chefs including Curtis Paul, Kerul Dyer, and Maren Faye. Our remarkable pantheon of volunteers also includes our Prevent War Group, coordinating our annual Hiroshima and Nagasaki observance, and members of the Rogue Liberation Library Project, sending books to those in prison. We are delighted as well to be the fiscal sponsor for Southern Oregon Pachamama Alliance, Ashland Together, and Ancestor’s Future: Crystallizing Our Call. Growing green shoots is part of our mission.
I am filled with profound gratitude at this time in my life, for all the ways we have been able to grow and build in the Peace House community, with you, the readers and sustainers. You know who you are. You sustain and nourish the work in our community that can continue to grow at this critical time in our country’s self-definition.
You will be well served by Meg Wade as the new director, who has all the skill and moxie to carry Peace House forward into new arenas as an organization dedicated to nonviolent social change.
Wishing you inner peace, light and joy in the midst of challenging times,
Elizabeth
