Category Archives: Volunteerism

Small Gestures Matter

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Last week was for me an eventful time, including a four-hour trip to Dubuque, Iowa, on Thursday for the Growing Sustainable Communities conference, an event the city sponsors every year. I spoke in a session that afternoon, October 24, on community planning for drought, but mostly what I remember was the combination of keynote speeches that addressed the major issues of our time, notably including a luncheon talk on Friday by Dr. Katherine Hayhoe, of Texas Tech University, on communication about climate change. It was impressive and inspiring but underscored how much work lies ahead to reverse damaging trends affecting our planet.

But the week started out differently, with smaller actions that I think are extremely important in setting the tone for the way all of us relate to our fellow human beings.

My wife and I are members of Augustana Lutheran Church of Hyde Park, in Chicago. Situated catacorner from the Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago on E. 55 St., our church enjoys the benefit of the knowledge that abounds among the LSTC faculty. I serve as coordinator of the Adult Forum, an adult discussion group that meets during the Sunday School hour. That makes me responsible for finding speakers, programming discussions, and promoting the events. On Sunday, October 20, we discussed actions we could take following a five-week series covering the World War II Nazi death camps, visited by Dr. Esther Menn and her husband, Bruce Tammen, in August during a trip to Poland and Ukraine, which fed into considerations of how we treat immigrants and minorities in our own time.

Our pastor, Rev. Nancy Goede, told me about an incident that occurred the prior Tuesday in Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood, at Lincoln United Methodist Church. Lincoln has chosen to become a sanctuary church out of concern for the safety of undocumented immigrants, but a man shouting Nazi slogans came to the building in an angry confrontation with church staff. It was not the first time the church had been targeted for its actions. The man proceeded to smash the front window.

There is little we can do directly about an incident that is already past, but we decided that we could establish a supportive relationship with the congregation in the face of this hate crime, so we composed the following letter, eventually signed that day by at least 25 members of Augustana:

To the Members and Staff of Lincoln United Methodist Church:

We are very sorry to hear about the incident on October 15, in which a man shouting Nazi slogans smashed the glass window on the front door of Lincoln United Methodist Church.  We have learned that you have been targeted by right-wing groups for your stance in establishing Lincoln UMC as a sanctuary church.  We support your efforts and pray for your safety as you continue to follow your consciences in doing the Lord’s work.

Your Brothers and Sisters in Christ at Augustana Lutheran Church

Indeed, part of the purpose of this letter is to reassure Lincoln United Methodist Church that its members are not being left to handle this attack in isolation from the rest of the Christian community. We had learned a great deal about the high cost of silence during the Holocaust, as well as the need to forcefully address racial equality as we commemorated the 100th anniversary of Chicago’s race riots in 1919, a story detailed well in Claire Hartfield’s recent book, A Few Red Drops.

But that is not all we chose to do. Esther Menn then noted the American Jewish community on this past weekend would be commemorating the first anniversary of a violent anti-Semitic attack at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, in which eleven members were killed, and seven others wounded, by a man apparently inspired by right-wing rhetoric. Robert Bowers, a truck driver from Baldwin, Pennsylvania, was arrested for the massacre, and authorities said he used social media beforehand to post criticism of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, which has been supportive of the human rights of immigrants to the U.S.

In solidarity, Augustana announced that members of the congregation, as well as people from LSTC and McCormick Seminary, would gather last Friday evening to walk to nearby KAM Isaiah Israel congregation in Hyde Park to join its Friday evening shabbat service. Once again, Augustana would make a simple statement in opposition to hate crimes and violence against religious and ethnic minorities and immigrants. Because traffic on the way back from Dubuque that afternoon obviated the possibility of my own participation, Esther related to me that 27 people from Augustana and the two seminaries joined the effort, plus others who met them at the synagogue, and that their presence was greatly appreciated.

Supportive visitors at the doors of KAM Isaiah Israel synagogue. Photo provided by Esther Menn.

Sometimes, it is worth remembering that the simple act of reaching out to say we care and stand behind others is enough to establish lasting and meaningful bonds between otherwise disparate groups of human beings. It certainly is a place to start.

Jim Schwab

If You See Something, Say Something

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National Park Service photo

We have become so accustomed to a certain Homeland Security phrase since the events of September 11, 2001, that we have never seriously contemplated its larger meaning. “If you see something, say something,” for most people simply means that, if you notice something strange, someone leaving a package on a train platform and walking away, for instance, you need to call 911 or point it out to a nearby security official. Having done our civic duty, we can go on about our lives and hope for the best. We may save someone’s life, or we may simply be exercising caution. Check it out.

But suppose we interpreted that phrase in the context of our duties as citizens of an endangered, or even potentially endangered, democracy. Suppose the threat were to our democratic institutions and not just to the lives of those in a single public place. Suppose the threat involved policies that affected thousands of people threatened by racism, ignorance, or hatred? Ought we not to speak up? How different would the history of the world have been if millions of Germans had spoken up about what they saw even in 1933? How many Russians in the past two decades have risked their lives and their careers to speak up about the threats they see to a democracy being strangled in its cradle? In the past year, the people of Sudan have arisen against a brutal military dictatorship and forced remarkable changes. Are we Americans somehow so special as to be free from such obligations? Do we not eventually lose our moral authority to speak for democracy in the world if we fail to speak for it at home?

If you see something, say something. Let me tell you what I see:

I see children housed in filthy cages at the southern border by the U.S. government, separated from their parents, their eyes full of fear and bewilderment, when their only alleged crime was to be brought here by parents from Central America who sought to remove them from gang warfare, violence, crime, and corruption in desperately poor countries. I see a U.S. President, as a form of retribution, cutting aid to those countries that was meant to promote reform and economic opportunity to reduce people’s need to flee such chaos in the first place.

I see Temporary Protective Status (TPS) denied to survivors of Hurricane Dorian in the Bahamas, a neighboring country with deep ties to the U.S., even as that nation struggles to rescue and house its own people in the face of mind-numbing devastation. The rationale from the President was that “very bad people” would harm our country if this were allowed, although TPS has been standard practice in the past in the very same circumstances. It is unclear, other than being people of color, what makes the Bahamians especially dangerous in his eyes.

I see neo-Nazis, white supremacists, and Ku Klux Klan members marching and chanting “Jews will not replace us” through the campus of the University of Virginia and the streets of Charlottesville, defended ardently by a President who sees “very fine people” on both sides while an innocent young woman is run over and killed by a young Nazi sympathizer with his car. I see this rhetoric emboldening an ever-widening circle of mass shooters who sow terror in American cities with unlimited access to weapons of war, but I also see a widening circle of brave citizens rising to demand effective action against such terror.

I see America losing the moral courage of the Emma Lazarus poem at the Statue of Liberty, pleading for the world to “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” and nearly mocking Lady Liberty as she seeks to lift her lamp beside the golden door. The Golden Door is becoming instead the Great Border Wall built with money never legitimately appropriated by Congress, and members of the President’s own party unable and unwilling to stop him or even raise the weakest of objections lest they be expelled from the halls of power—or are they becoming halls of obeisance, like the Roman Senate in Nero’s time?

I am telling you what I see because I understand the moral and civic obligation to say something. We must all be whistleblowers for the future of democracy. What do you see? Are you prepared to say something as well? And what shall we do once we have spoken?

Jim Schwab

Gratitude on Parade #10

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GRATITUDE ON PARADE
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One of the finest assets of any city or region is its cultural organizations, particularly for the arts. I’ve long been a member and officer of the Society of Midland Authors, a Midwest home for authors that is based in Chicago. And I’ve learned that these organizations don’t just maintain themselves. Dedicated people do hard work to sustain them. In the case of SMA, such people have done this for nearly 105 years since the group’s founding in 1915 with the likes of Harriet Monroe, Sherwood Anderson, and others. What a legacy.

In the current day, Thomas Frisbie, like his father, Richard, before him, has invested years of his life and countless hours of time as president, newsletter editor, and membership secretary, among other posts, helping to sustain the success of the Midland Authors, which maintain a thriving annual book awards contest, hundreds of author members, and monthly programs to enrich the cultural scene of Chicago and the Midwest. The organization would not be the same without him.

Posted on Facebook 4/8/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE

#gratitudeonparade
In the tribute last night to Thomas Frisbie, I mentioned that the Midland Authors sponsor an annual book awards contest. For the last two years, I have been an adult nonfiction judge, and I have served on both adult nonfiction and biography panels in many years past. And sure enough, someone has to coordinate that whole operation, with 18 judges in six categories, an annual banquet to bestow the awards, and other duties, such as getting timely notice to publishers, tracking entry fees, seeing that plaques are made, etc. It’s a complex operation.

Several years ago, Marlene Targ Brill stepped into those shoes, seeking to rationalize the program and put it on a sounder financial footing. As the saying goes, she keeps the train running on time. She stares down challenges in lining up judges who can work together amicably to produce good decisions about winners and honorable mentions. She follows up with winning authors and their publishers. And she keeps smiling through it all, every hour of it volunteer work. Winners or not, the competing authors owe her a debt of gratitude, as do all of us in the organization. This is a major literary event for Chicago, and Marlene makes it work.

Posted on Facebook 4/9/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE
#gratitudeonparade

Just today, Greg Borzo sent out a complete list of dates for which he had lined up venues for programs for the 2019-2020 season for the Midland Authors. He’s on top of his job as the program coordinator for the Society. For the last two or three years, at least, he has been the indefatigable, cheerleading organizer of one provocative or fascinating program after another by authors and civic leaders with something to say and stories to tell. This function is part of what keeps the Midland Authors alive and thriving. Greg’s creativity in arranging these programs has been remarkable. For that, he earns our gratitude.

Want to find out? Check the schedule at midlandauthors.com and attend a program or two. You’ll be pleasantly surprised. And those photos below? Just a few of the engaging faces of tonight’s honoree for Gratitude on Parade.

Posted on Facebook 4/18/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE
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The capstone of this series of tributes to leaders of the Midland Authors concludes with someone who, unfortunately, is no longer here to read it. But who knows, maybe he can anyway. It would be fitting. Richard Frisbie certainly deserved to hear it.

Richard Frisbie was twice president of the Society of Midland Authors, and in between and beyond was a constant presence on the board of directors, at its awards banquets, and at many of its programs and functions. His humor, long memory, and perspective contributed greatly to the organizations’ progress and good judgment as it renewed itself for a brighter future in serving the Chicago and Midwestern literary community. He had successful careers in both journalism and advertising.

Like the rest of us, since we are all authors in SMA, he also wrote books. His brought fun into people’s lives, such as “It’s a Wise Woodsman Who Knows What’s Biting Him,” a guide to practical outdoor adventures. Along the way, Richard raised several children, one of whom, Tom, remains a key figure among the Midland Authors, while others are key players in civic and environmental enterprises across the Chicago area, such as Friends of the Chicago River. He and his departed wife, Margery, must have known what they were doing. They left quite a legacy. So here’s to you, Richard, watching over the rest of us, hopefully with pride.

Posted on Facebook 4/22/2019

Jim Schwab

Gratitude on Parade #2

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GRATITUDE ON PARADE

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Today’s late-night entry has no photo because I have none from so long ago, certainly not digitized, anyway–or easily found. That makes Lynn Saunders’s contribution to my career no less seminal or memorable. An English teacher at Brecksville High School, she was the willing and required faculty member who became the adviser to our budding Writers Club, a new entity in 1967 that was the brainchild of a handful of aspiring student writers, including me as I entered my senior year. With her encouragement, we produced our own literary journal, “The Tenth Muse Recently Discovered in Brecksville.” We young literati were probably not the most popular types in our Ohio school, but we may have been among the most visionary. I have spent the last half-century refining those writing skills, and for this foundation I express today’s moment of gratitude.

Posted on Facebook 1/6/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE

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Shhh. I’m waiting until she goes upstairs so she doesn’t see this now and can be surprised in the morning.

It is hard to find a more devoted mother and grandmother than my wife, so here’s to Jean Schwab. Whatever parenting mistakes we made, individually or combination, like every human being out there, Jean nonetheless remains committed wholeheartedly to the welfare of her family. Over time, she has learned how to make the tough decisions and say the tough things to say when we needed to, all while making clear she is doing it out of love.

Most people who know us know that we adopted children out of foster care. This was mostly because Jean expressed early in our marriage the feeling that we had too much to share not to reach out to children who needed a home. I am not sure either of us envisioned that future when we married, but it became a big part of what we will leave behind. And we have learned so much along the way. We have embraced the challenge. Here’s to the future, and a salute to my life partner.

Jean with grandson Emanuel James, aka EJ Schwab

Posted on Facebook 1/7/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE

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Tonight I was in downtown Chicago at the Harold Washington Public Library for a Society of Midland Authors presentation of women authors writing about the Vietnam war. Their interesting perspectives caused me to think about my own experiences during that time. I attended Cleveland State University from 1968-1973, the heart of one of the most tumultuous periods in U.S. history.

I started college with a student deferment just before President Richard Nixon introduced the draft lottery. My number was 135, but the year I gave up my student deferment they went to 125, and so I was out of the draft forever. Fighting a war I did not respect was not part of my future. But it does not mean the events did not affect me.

Tonight’s tribute is to someone I have not seen in 45 years. I have no idea if he is alive or dead, or where he is living, but I would not mind hearing from Peter Damok. By 1970, I think, I had founded the first student environmental group at CSU, right after the first Earth Day. Peter, a Vietnam veteran attending college on the GI Bill, joined us at some later point. This was during a time when Vietnam veterans often returned to an uncertain welcome. Peter, I think, was drawn in part to my lack of judgment, open mind, and willingness to listen and learn. He had much to share.

One thing I distinctly remember made a permanent impression on me. There were often anti-war marches down Euclid Avenue, past the CSU campus, in downtown Cleveland. I joined more than a few (though I seldom shared that information with my more conservative parents). Peter, who hoped to become a journalist, had some friends in the news media and joined some in watching one of the demonstrations from the upper stories of one of the buildings along the march route. Later he told me that one of his reporter friends scoffed at the protesters and asked, “How many of them have ever been to Vietnam?”

Peter stopped him cold in his tracks. “How many more do you want to send over there before you listen to them?” he asked.

I learned to separate service in the military from the automatic assumption that a veteran supported the war. Many came home embittered by what they saw and determined to end the madness. And I learned it straight from the mouth of one veteran–Pete Damok.

Posted on Facebook 1/8/19

GRATITUDE ON PARADE
#gratitudeonparade
There are those who quietly do the less glamorous tasks that make things run. Being the secretary/treasurer of a member division of the American Planning Association is among those tasks. As the chair-elect of the APA Hazard Mitigation and Disaster Recovery Planning Division, thrust into an acting chair position because of Chair Allison Hardin’s unfortunate accident, I have come to appreciate the value of Jennifer Ellison, a Polk County, Iowa, planner who is also our secretary/treasurer. We have responsibilities to hundreds of members who work at making our communities safer and helping them recover from disasters, but Jennie makes sure the bills are paid, the dollars add up, and the proper reports are filed, all without asking for any special attention or credit. But I couldn’t do it without her, and so she is tonight’s focus of gratitude.

Jennifer Ellison

Posted on Facebook 1/9/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE
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When I first met Richard Roths, he was a planner working for FEMA. As I recall, he was detailed to southern Ohio for flood recovery sometime in the late 1990s, and I was completing work with my team on Planning for Post-Disaster Recovery and Reconstruction, a path-breaking FEMA-supported guide published by the American Planning Association in 1998 as a PAS Report. I learned that Rich was among dozens of FEMA personnel asked to review it, many of whom were similarly on duty away from home and living out of a suitcase in a hotel room. Rich was doing his reviews, he told me, while washing his clothes in the laundromat each week. Other people might have idled the time with a good book, watching television, but not Rich.

It did not take long with further encounters back in Chicago for us to team up teaching a graduate course on hazard mitigation and disaster recovery in the spring semesters of 1997 and 1999 at the University of Illinois at Chicago’s urban planning program, part of the College of Urban Planning and Public Affairs. Over subsequent years, Rich attended a number of my infamous backyard barbecue parties, usually bringing some beer to help out. It is amazing to think we have known each other now for well over 20 years. During that time, Rich moved on to URS Corp. as a consultant and then retired. He is now active as a volunteer with the APA Hazard Mitigation and Disaster Recovery Planning Division, of which I am Chair-Elect. In that role, I recruited and organized the division’s Professional Development Committee.

Sure enough, Rich has become a leading player in the committee’s endeavors. When Kehla West was unable to take on the role of interviewer for a series of podcasts on recovery in major recent disasters, Rich stepped up and did a fabulous job. He has completed three since last fall and is not done yet. These are all now on the APA website as part of APA’s Resilience Roundtable series. Rich is also heading up an effort to develop a program of outreach from the division to university planning schools. In his semi-retirement, he has carved out a meaningful role that has made the rest of us proud. He is a model of productive volunteerism in retirement.

Richard Roths in the APA broadcast booth recording his first podcast.

Posted on Facebook 1/11/2019

GRATITUDE ON PARADE
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I have lost the name of my sixth-grade teacher in the mists of time and do not wish to ask anyone to search the archives of the elementary school to find it. Her name is beside the point. What matters is what I and others learned.

The school year was 1961-1962. Unlike other teachers at that level at that time, she believed that young people our age could understand and digest more than her contemporaries thought. During reading time each day, she introduced us to the works of Dr. Tom Dooley about Vietnam and Indochina. I am well aware of the mixed and ambiguous history of Dooley before his untimely death of cancer. He may well have exaggerated descriptions of Viet Minh atrocities and fed intelligence to the CIA. But when one student questioned whether some of Dooley’s stories were propaganda, our teacher concede the possibility.

Still, we gained a vivid mental image of a part of the world that soon would dominate the news of the 1960s, yet of which most Americans had only minimal awareness. The moral ambiguity of the mess that became the Vietnam War was illuminated in my teenage and then college-age mind by the memory of what she had read to us. It took some courage and imagination to think we could digest all this and that somehow, within a few years, it might deepen our perspectives on the world. Her own views may have been equally ambiguous, for all I know, and I will probably never know. But I can be grateful that her audacity at the time left an indelible impression of the importance of learning about faraway places and the moral and developmental challenges they face–and which we face along with them.

Posted on Facebook 1/12/2019