Intersecting circles of life and death

Today was a day that had a roundness to it that I appreciate. I spent the morning cutting pieces for the Home of the Brave quilt I have taken responsibility for making to give to a local family whose son was killed in Iraq in January. As I cut, of course I thought about this family, the grief they must be experiencing, and I thought about the war which has now brought grief to thousands of families in this country and in Iraq. A week ago last night I stood in a vigil to draw attention to the 5th year of the war. Last night and this morning, I heard with a sick feeling about the upsurge in violence in Sadr City and in Basra. Another NH soldier was killed 2 days ago, making 41 casualties in our small state.

This afternoon, I took the quilt pieces to the high school, where seven others joined me in sewing blocks. Together, we made ten blocks in an hour and a half. I was glad to see my former colleagues, and I SO appreciated their willingness to help on this project. Some of us had taught the young man who died, or one of his older brothers. All of us knew the family, and some of us had been on the faculty and two had been students when the oldest son died of brain cancer during his senior year. Every year, the mom makes a beautiful quilt and raffles it off to raise money for the memorial scholarship which they established after the death of their oldest son. It seems more than fitting for those of us who have been part of the extended Oyster River family to be making a quilt to express our desire to comfort them at the time of their second horrific loss.

I was most touched by the presence today of one of my close friends from the English Dept. whose brother happens to be currently stationed in Bagdad. She is not a seamstress and had not even the least idea of how to pin fabric together, but she became our seam presser, and made an important contribution to the ease with which we were able to complete so many blocks. When I thanked her for coming, she said "I have a ton of work to do, but I just thought.....if something happens to my brother, I hope someone will make a quilt for my mom." I was struck by how differently she was perceiving this afternoon's activity from all the rest of us, and just how much fear and anxiety she holds in her heart every day for her brother who is directly in death's path with every day that he remains in Bagdad.

On my way out of the building, a former student, now a sophomore was standing in the entry area, and greeted me warmly. "Hi Ms. Morgan," she said. "Hi," I said, "How are you?" "I'm doing great," she said. "I was just talking about you to one of the interns today," she said. "Oh?" I said. "Yeah," she said. "I was telling her that you were someone who knew how to tame a ninth grade class." "Well, I tried," I said, turning and smiling at her as I walked out into the parking lot. I wish I had said, "Yes, but I hope 'tamed' was not synonymous with 'squashed."" Her name was Gabby, and she was. Gabby, that is. Fortunately, she was also very smart, and had always done her reading and preparation for class. I appreciated her, at the same time that I had to constantly sit on her. So to speak.

Arriving back at home, I spent a few minutes re-planting my "Support the Troops, End the war in Iraq" sign in the stump in front of the house. All the wind and weather this winter had partially uprooted it. I will be very happy when I no longer need to have this sign out front, when the Home of the Brave quilt project can come to an end, and when we have a leader in the White House who will not risk the lives of our young people so needlessly.

On television tonight, I flipped channels and saw a rebroadcast of an interview project we carried out in American Studies called the Power of One. My dear friend Emma was the teacher/environmentalist being interviewed by two of the smartest and nicest students I have ever worked with. I had never seen their entire tape, and it was a joy to watch and to think back on the whole project which was designed to encourage kids to realize the difference that one person can make through the way he or she lives his or her life. It's a lesson for me to remember as well, when I become discouraged about the large events in the world over which I have no control.

Today, I felt the threads of my life weave together in an interesting way, through my life as a teacher, a friend, a quilter, an organizer, a political activist . . . . . a tamer of ninth graders.