Hippies and Filipinos – A Spencer, West Virginia, Childhood in the 1970s

Esse Diem is privileged to share a reflection by Amy Hamric Weintraub as part of the Essays on a West Virginia Childhood project.

A very young Miss Hamric

Amy is one of the most intense and effective community leaders I have ever known.  I have seen her go to the mat for reproductive rights, fair housing, jobs, civil rights, religious freedom, and peace.  She is a devoted wife, mother, and friend, as well as an accomplished professional with a long history of executive leadership in key community nonprofit organizations.  Her essay about growing up in a family with a long West Virginia heritage, while playing and learning among “children of hippie farmers and Filipino doctors,” just charms me.  I am delighted but not at all surprised by her focus on her early experiences with diversity, as those times have clearly helped make her the woman she is today.

Hippies and Filipinos – A Spencer, West Virginia, Childhood in the 1970s

Amy with friends Kelli and Hilary

I was born in Spencer, West Virginia, in 1968; in that year, the town was home to generations of born and bred West Virginians.  Though a few, like my mother (an Oklahoman) had “married in,” most could count their Mountain State ancestry back multiple generations — indeed prior to the Civil War.  Like small towns across America, however, things were a-changin’.

In metropolitan centers in the Northeast, malcontent young people turned away from the professional tracks their parents had planned for them, seeking social change, for their own social order.  Evoking the pioneer spirit of the early 20th century, these adventurers rejected conventional life for something new, land-based, and communal.  Arriving in my rural county in their “wagon trains” of Volkswagens vans, these young urbanites pooled their money to buy or rent farms, taking advantage of the low demand for rural West Virginia property in the early 1970s.  They proceeded to raise crops and animals, make art and love, and in some cases have children.  The locals dubbed them “hippies” — or in polite company, “back-to-landers”.

In this decade, Spencer opened a community hospital and began recruiting medical doctors.  The first doctors to sign contracts at Roane General were finishing their residencies in New York City hospitals — and all hailed from the Philippines.  They landed in Spencer in waves complete with their warm chocolate skin, foreign accents, and in most cases, complete families with children.

Student Council president Edgar, a Filipino American, leads a meeting at Spencer High School

By the time I started school, my first grade class contained the expected number of “Roane known” names such as Greathouse, Nichols, Casto and Miller.  But one also found Arabia, Fitzpatrick, and Kershner along with Gamponia, Ambrosio, and Lo.

As I reflect on the many ways the presence of these dear souls enriched my life, I return to my own childhood in a vivid wash of memories. 

I see the dust float through the air as I move my tiny feet from first position to second position in ballet class, taught by one long-haired willowy waif, provocatively named Kis Scary, origins unknown (but she was with us for a year!).  I see the bills fly from Dr. Ambrosio’s generous hands as he lets every child at the Black Walnut Festival carnival have a go at the nearly impossible-to-win arcade games.

I feel the relief of my 6-year-old self as dear Dr. Erlinda, originally of Manila, asks all the right, sensitive questions to diagnose my stomach ulcer and gently explains how I can get well.  I feel my lips curl awkwardly as I try to speak the French words taught to a group of us 8-year-olds at the county library by Preston Clark, formerly of Massachusetts.  I feel new passions awaken as I read an issue of Ms. Magazine, found after being set aside unread somewhere in my house by my schoolteacher mother, who had received it from Kaya’s mom — a well-meaning hippie feminist mama.

Cecelia, a Filipino American and one of Amy's nearest and dearest at a traditional WV potluck party

I smell the nutty, pungent scent of soybeans as they transform to chunky blocks of tofu at “The Soy Dairy” and smell the fresh, musky scent of herbs and wafting out the open doorway of “The Growing Tree” food co-op.  I smell — oh, how I smell!– the gingery, garlicky deliciousness of “Oriental Steak,” created by Remi Lo – a recipe that forever changed the supper repertoire of housewives throughout Roane County.  I taste the savory, aromatic pleasures of my first real Italian meatball and drink my first sip of red wine at the Arabia family (formerly of Scarsdale, New York) farmhouse. 

I hear the clickety-clackety-clack of the Filipino Mah Jong tiles at Cecilia Ambrosio’s house as we race through the family room, occupied by her parents and grandparents, en route to the kitchen for rice cracker snacks.  I hear stories of Cecilia’s and Rick’s trips to the Philippines and wanderlust fills my heart. 

Oh, the impact these folks had on our community!  Even those who were there a short while brought an expanded world view, varied interests and culture, and a zest for life. 

Sadly, many Spencer back-to-landers were not prepared for the realities of a rural life and returned to city living after a relatively short time, mainly due to relationship problems and/or the financial strains involved with making a living from family farms of modest scale.

A "typical collection" of Amy's BFFs (l to r: Rick, Greg, Hilary and Donovan)

Thankfully, most of my favorites stayed; today the hippies you will meet on Spencer streets are integrated fully into their adopted hometown.  They coupled with life partners who had a comparable level of commitment. They made permanent homes that were comfortable and practical.  They became realistic about their financial needs and found sources of income beyond their farms. Some had flexible occupations, like writing and other creative work, or a trade. Most found steady jobs in the town of Spencer or they commuted to Charleston.  They became school teachers and community arts council members and carpenters and business owners.  Their children filled school art shows and plays and sports teams, and they were raised with us as rural West Virginians.

Amy's best friend, Debbie, who became a bridesmaid at Amy's wedding years after growing up together.

Following a parallel track, the Spencer Filipino families rode a wave of migration via the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965; the Act allowed for “occupational” migration in response to the need for more American professionals, specifically in the medical field. Thousands of Filipino professionals, mostly doctors and nurses, arrived in the U.S. as complete families, with dozens eventually coming to the town of Spencer.

Spencer Filipinos integrated completely and quickly into West Virginia life.  As our physicians, the parents offered enormous value as a talented and caring community-based medical team.  These doctors and their spouses became leaders in local churches and civic organizations.  They worked tirelessly to build our town’s health-care infrastructure and provided much-needed public health education and information.  Their children filled our school honor rolls and 4-H clubs and homecoming courts as they were raised with us as West Virginia sisters and brothers.

I think often of the ways these childhood friends and their parents influenced the way I see the world and the way I choose to make my way through it.  They helped build my confidence to search out new, sometimes distant places, and to find a way to feel at home anywhere.  They helped form my early love for good food and drink, my love of the sound of different accents, and my constant striving to look beyond skin color or family origin to find the abiding dignity within each soul I meet.   They helped forge my interest in service to community and neighbors and a willingness to take on challenges and risks.

A freezing camping trip to Spruce Knob can't hide the warmth between these friends! (Front row: Ben, Amy and Hilary; Back row: Eric, Kelli, Greg, and Rick)

As we grew up and graduated from dear old Spencer High School (may it rest in peace), these childhood friends and I dispersed around the state and country.  But all of us — the local yokels, the mud-covered hippie children, and those exotic Flips who are late to every meeting and event (running on Filipino time) — still keep in constant contact through the Internet, mail, phone calls, and regular in-person reunions.  We love to reflect on our charmed upbringing in the lovely town of Spencer and to look back on it with rose-colored glasses that we would prefer not to remove, thank you very much.

 And I give thanks on a regular basis that our parents – whether they came from afar or abided in the place of their Mountaineer ancestors – raised us right where they did.

 Debbie, Hilary, Cecilia, Ben, Rick, Donovan:  I adore you, as I always have.

Images credit: Amy Hamric Weintraub

Rebranding a Life: Spirituality and Chronic Illness

I contributed an essay to the collection, A Spiritual Life, and the advance reviews confirm that the entire book delivers on its promise of engaging a range of meaningful and personal perspectives on spirituality.  What does it mean to individuals to live “a spiritual life”? 

Writing my essay was a very personal process of articulating the experiences I had after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis twelve years ago.  I spent a long time in a state of “unreadiness” to disclose my condition, much of that stemming from fear of the unknown.  My spiritual journey propelled me into a braver, stronger, richer place as a child of God.  Perhaps one or more of these essays will do the same for you!

I hope you will read the reviewers’ comments below and consider pre-ordering the book for yourself or someone you love.  Publication will be in late April 2011.

A Spiritual Life: Perspectives from Poets, Prophets, and Preachers (Westminster John Knox Press), will be published in early 2011.

“Don’t look for a traditional approach to faith or a unified voice in this diverse collection. You can, however, count on graceful prose and an honest, reflective search–and that, I found, was enough to make my own pilgrimage seem more authentic and less lonely.”
Philip Yancey, author of What Good Is God? and Prayer: Does It Make a Difference?

“In A Spiritual Life, Allan Hugh Cole, Jr. has assembled an impressive group of twenty-four “poets, prophets, and preachers” to write about that elusive thing called their spiritual life. What emerges is not a tight and tidy definition of the spiritual life but a glorious topographic collage of the ways in which people infuse their lives with God. These two dozen compelling writers expand not only our notion of the depth and breadth of the spiritual life, but maybe even our understanding of God.”
Sybil MacBeth, author of Praying in Color: Drawing a New Path to God

“Too often Americans think of “spirituality” and “the spiritual life” in ways disconnected from the quotidian challenges of our daily lives. This rich collection offers a powerful and poignant counterwitness, displaying the complexities of engaging God in the midst of the ordinary. You will be stimulated, comforted, and challenged by these wonderfully gifted writers.
L. Gregory Jones, Duke University, author of Embodying Forgiveness

“A spiritual banquet, prepared by some of America’s finest writers and thinkers. If you’re looking for a fresh wind to blow through your life of faith, look no further than this gem of a book.”
Philip Gulley, author of If Grace Is True and the Harmony novels

“These meaty essays, generously spiced with personal stories, provide valuable food for thought about ministry, preaching and everyday life in Christ. What a rich feast! Savor this book.”
Lynne M. Baab, author of Sabbath Keeping and Friending: Real Relationships in a Virtual World

“One of the great gifts of my work is that I often get to ask the question of friends and folks I’ve only just met, “What is God up to in your life?” There are few things I’d rather do than listen to an honest response to that question. Here is a book full of responses by folks who write both honestly and well. Like so many of the folks I’ve listened to face-to-face, these authors give me hope that the Spirit is stirring to bring new life, even in the most unexpected of places.”
Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, author of New Monasticism and The Wisdom of Stability

A Few Good Men

Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood

Recently I’ve connected with the Good Men Project.  This work is so important, and the people doing it are so good at what they do, it boggles the mind.  One of the best aspects of the effort is that it’s the GOOD Men Project.  Not the Perfect Men.  Not the Simple Men.  Not the Straight Men or the Gay Men, the Married Men or the Black Men.  The Good Men.

There is a lot of space for honesty and diversity in this conversation.

If you don’t know about the project, you owe it to yourself to bookmark the site and especially the blog.  I am just beginning to get into all that is going on with the project, but it was my first foray into the conversation that hooked me.  As fair warning, the rest of this post addresses issues of rape and sexual assault; many of us have experienced the threat of or actual event of such things, and it is important to know in advance whether or not you care to pursue the topic.  I hope you will choose to read on, because as difficult as it is to engage, there are opportunities to learn things and to take actions that can make a positive difference in people’s lives.

What first grabbed my attention was a headline that read “In Yale fraternity pledging, rape is a laughing matter.”  Yale?  I thought this has to be a joke.  Oh no, it’s not a joke.  The pledge class from a certain fraternity marched around campus this fall chanting, “No means yes” and other things not suitable for print here (you can read it on the Good Men Project site).  I thought I might vomit when I read the story, but I pulled it together and read on to the (now) 100 comments. 

This is where it started to get Good.  Really Good.

The Good Men Project is creating space for dialogue about the things no one wants to talk about, but that we desperately need to figure out.  Yes, there is some unavoidable anger in the back-and-forth comments, but the overarching feeling is one of working toward understanding that can lead to change.  One especially moving story from the comments reads like this:

What if your daughter was a rape victim? Would you still tell her to ignore it? I really do see where you’re coming from. I don’t mean disrespect. I want to help you understand what I go through, which is unfortunately common.

I was in a female physiology class with a surprising amount of men (usually women take the large majority, but it was almost half/half). My teacher invited a speaker and had us close our eyes and raise our hands if we agree with the statement.  She started out with statements like, “I would rather walk with a friend during the dark.” A lot of people raised their hands.

Then she proceeded to statements like, “I would not walk alone during the dark ever.” Some hands started coming down from the men. Then she got a little more personal, “I am afraid of being raped.” Then the hands went back up. “I am so afraid of rape, I avoid certain places all together and am limited on a daily basis.”  Then, “I feel that my gender is objectified and disrespected at least twice a day.”

I couldn’t see a male raising his hand anywhere. Some men spoke out saying things like, “I had no idea that this many women felt so much fear and disrespect.” Others said, “It’s hard to believe that women have so much to worry about and that they’re limited because of this worry.”

One young man, said something that really touched me. He said something like, “This is disgusting. It’s disgusting that I was only aware of this 21 years into my life. I think about my sister, my mom, my daughter.  As a man, I have to influence other men.  They need to know women go through this.” I hope that maybe you’ll take something away from realizing the sh*t some people have to go through.

It is said that to know everything is to understand everything.  We can never know everything, but the more we know about each other the closer we can get to understanding why others conduct themselves the way they do.  We can know more about the effect of our words and actions on other people.  We can become more willing to share personal stories that illustrate diverse experiences and we can ask for help and understanding.

There is a lone guy in the comments who goes by “Daddy Files.”  He really takes some serious lumps, and I can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.  But the incredible thing is his willingness to keep coming back into the dialogue, despite the intense opposition to his point of view.  His point of view may not be popular, but he represents a large constituency when it comes to “boys will be boys” philosophy.  His willingness to keep driving the conversation fascinates me, and while I think he’s very confused about the difference between right and wrong, I also think the Good Men Project community owes him a debt of thanks for not letting a very tough issue sail off into the sunset entirely unresolved.

Let’s keep talking.

___________

When you visit the Good Men Project website, you can also find them on Facebook and Twitter.  Image credit:  The Good Men Project