Essays on Childhood: The 2011 Writers, Part One

We know something is going right when we have too many outstanding essayists to announce all at once!  The Essays on Childhood project is pleased to introduce you to the first 6 of 11 writers for 2011.

The entire collective is multi-talented, courageous, and impressive.  We hope you will spend some time “getting to know” these fine people and anticipating the pleasure of reading their essays.  As editor, I have read some early drafts and can promise you an experience with these stories and reflections that will open your eyes and stir your heart with new ways of thinking about childhood experience.

Anne Clinard Barnhill

Anne Clinard Barnhill grew up in West Virginia and graduated from Alderson-Broaddus College in Philippi.  Her debut novel, AT THE MERCY OF THE QUEEN, is forthcoming from St. Martin’s Press in 2012.  She is also author of AT HOME IN THE LAND OF OZ: Autism, My Sister and Me, a memoir about growing up in West Virginia in a time before anyone had heard the word ‘autism’.  WHAT YOU LONG FOR is a short story collection published in 2009 that also contains stories set in the mountains.  Books are available from Amazon, www.jkp.comwww.mainstreetrag.com or, if you’d like a signed copy, from the author directly at acbarnhill@yahoo.com.  Anne’s essay will examine issues of racial and ethnic prejudice towards the Melungeon population; Melungeons represent a “tri-racial isolate group” mainly in the Cumberland Gap area of Central Appalachia.

Helen Adelia Slaughter Basham

Helen was born in Dunbar, West Virginia, on April 26, 1928.  She laughs at newspaperman Jim Dent’s description of “a fate worse than Dunbar.”  Her elementary through high school education all took place in a single block and only three blocks away from her home.  After Helen worked a year in an office in Charleston, “hating every minute,”  her youngest brother came out of the Navy with an engineering degree and  helped send Helen  to West Virginia University, where she majored in social work. From 1950 until 1966, Helen worked in several states (sometimes part-time during child rearing years) as a social worker or as an administrator of programs for children and families.  She describes her five children as the most important people in her life — sustaining, inspiring, and sheltering her with their love.  After retirement, Helen returned to live in a little house decorated with sage siding and purple shutters and doors, just down the street from the big box of a house where she was born.  Unbeknownst to her at the time, Helen’s 50 year old son died the day before she wrote her essay which “just poured out” of her.  Her essay describes her experiences as a fairy maker artist and her journey into creative thinking and doing after retirement.

Julian Martin

Julian is the eighth generation of his family born on Big Coal River.  He is a graduate of St. Albans High School where he was an all-conference football player. He has a chemical engineering degree from West Virginia University (WVU) and worked two years in the chemical industry. After one month training to make sidewinder missiles he joined the Peace Corps as West Virginia’s first volunteer and taught chemistry and coached the track team at a secondary school in Nigeria. Since that time, he has also worked in urban outreach, organic farming, environmental education, and conservation.  He loves his wife and several children, step-children, grandchildren and step grandchildren and two great grandchildren.  Julian’s essay is tentatively titled, “Homeplace,” and is a colorful reflection on his growing up experiences on his grandparents’ farm.  He admits though, “I called it Grandma’s house and farm ever since Grandpa threw a rake at me.”

Melanie Foster Taylor

Melanie claims she is “not a real writer’s writer, except for trying it now.”   She is a classical pianist, and piano teacher who has been inspired to write her childhood story by her former piano student, Elizabeth Damewood Gaucher. Forced into really early retirement by the economic crash in 2008-9, this former college music professor now has plenty of time to reflect and write. Oh what a blessing. Melanie is presently trapped in South Carolina, but visits the family in Charleston, West Virginia two or three times a year. She breathes anew whenever she sees the mountains again.  Her essay, “Going to the Farm,” recounts memories of trips to the jointly-held family vacation farm in Monroe County, West Virginia, from Charleston. Model-T’s, grand pianos, and wildlife ensue.

Jean Hanna Davis

Jean is an accomplished singer, guitar player, and sometime songwriter.  She has been performing since the age of 12, in all settings, ranging from concert halls to bars to churches to festivals.  Her family relocated to Charleston, West Virginia from New Jersey when she was 7, and as many times as she has tried to leave, something keeps pulling her back.  Jean and her family live in Princeton, West Virginia.  Her essay will explore her experience moving to West Virginia from New Jersey during her early years, and some of the places she began to find herself accepted in a strange new land.

Devin McGrew

Devin was born in Charleston, West Virginia. She was raised in a farm house in a little town called Liberty. At the age of 11, she moved to Sarasota, Florida, with her mother and stepfather. She lived in Florida for 10 years before returning to her hometown in West Virginia. Devin is attending college at American Public University working towards a Bachelor’s Degree in Legal Studies. She currently works in the oil and gas industry as a paralegal. She is a single mother to a beautiful daughter named Lauren. They live in a small town in rural West Virginia with their two dogs, Foxy and Molly.  In her essay, Devin plans to explore how her life in Liberty influenced her lifelong passion for shooting guns.

God, Sex, and Your Lover

……now that I have your attention, let’s talk about sex.

Well, yes and no on that.  Let’s talk about God, sex, and your lover.

A college classmate of mine sent me a link to a recent essay in the Huffington Post, Roger Friedland: God, Sex and Love on American Campuses.  I love that she knew I would be fascinated by this, and I am.  I find the intersection of sexuality and spirituality to be one of the most compelling destinations in human experience.

Friedland is a Professor of Religion and Cultural Sociology at the University of California, Santa Barbara.  He conducted surveys of students on his campus to find answers to questions about who is doing what with whom and why from a sexual perspective.  He was curious about the perceived change of habits since his own youth, when as he reflects, love was taken almost for granted but sex was something to investigate.

My generation took love for granted; sex was the great uncertainty, the adventure. This new generation has reversed the equation. For them, sex has become ordinary; what is uncertain, frightening, and for an increasing number of them unbelievable, is love.

When you read the HuffPo piece, be aware it is relatively explicit but moves on quickly to questions about the relevance and role of religion to young people’s choices about sex.  Friedland is quick to establish that there is simply no objective and reliable research that supports the idea that belief in God has much of an effect on what people actually do in their sex lives.  For example, students taking “virginity pledges” were almost identical in their sexual experiences with those who did not take the pledge, with the exception of more, ahem, oral experience.

So what difference does belief in God make in all this?  According to Friedman, it makes a monumental difference in a very key area, that being the connection between sex and love.

When compared to those who don’t believe in anything beyond the physical world, young people who definitely believe in God are twice as likely to make love, as opposed to just having sex…….If you want a lover, one of the best places to look is among those who believe in God.

It would be too easy to turn this research into an advertisement for why if one is looking for love they should join a faith-based dating service.  The real show-stopper in Friedman’s musings comes when he proposes that we all think very critically and seriously about what it means for our world that we are chasing sexual social demons at the peril of losing our grip on real love —  not so much love in the Valentine shape of the thing, but love in the God-shape.

We are going down the rabbit hole after something that is not much influenced by our pursuits, and neglecting to secure our commitment to and involvement with love in our spiritual and social selves.

A relation with the divine is one in which you acknowledge your lack of sovereignty and self-control; admit that you are not your own basis, your own source; and depend on an other for your being whom you will never really understand or control. Religiosity and real romance are parallel orders of experience.

Religion is a source of constant disagreement and debate; increasingly for this generation of young people, so is love.  It seems to me that when we lose specific religious convictions, if we still have love as a guiding star our world is generally secure.  The opposite does not hold true.  If we begin to debate the existence and importance of love, all that holds us together is in peril.

Love is an unlikely, even impossible, life course, but nonetheless an essential driver of much that is great in our world. Love is the prerequisite of our kind of history. When we no longer believe in it, we cripple our capacity to make it.

Sex will always be interesting, there’s no denying that.  But I have to agree with Friedman, for sex to be the driving focus of organized religion as it has become in so many cases seems anemic and sad.  There is no end to the list of things that people think “should” be true but that just are not.  Religious organizations need to get serious about what is really at-risk here.

Let’s take our eyes off of people’s underpants and put them back on their hearts, where they belong.

Image credit: Auguste Rodin (1840–1917)