I first encountered the work of the Quaker educator and social activist Parker Palmer in 1998 when I joined some colleagues at Murray State to discuss his book The Courage to Teach (1997). Our college of Humanities had just instituted a program of “Teaching Circles” whereby faculty members from different departments could apply to receive several hundred dollars to buy books or lunch and get together to discuss a topic that crossed disciplinary lines.
Later in 2016, I joined another group of academic friends to discuss his treatise The Healing of Democracy (2011). We were reading that book while watching the election of the first American president who took as his aim the weakening instead of the healing of that democracy.
Palmer is a man of spiritual depth who believes that we can only become whole by opening our heart—what he calls “breaking open our heart”—to others. He is also a poet, a devotee of the late Thomas Merton, holder of a Ph.D in Sociology, and founder of the Center for Courage and Renewal, a leadership and training institute for teachers and other professionals: It’s mission is “to create a more just, compassionate and healthy world by nurturing personal and professional integrity and the courage to act on it.”
It was this year, 2020, that I became aware of his little collection of essays and poems entitled On the Brink of Everything: Grace, Gravity, and Getting Old (2018). This is not a systematic look at the stages of retirement or old age, but rather a series of psychological and spiritual reflections on aging.
What I found most interesting was Palmer’s positive and accepting attitude toward both old age and death. In the first sentences of in his preface he wrote “we grow old and die in the same way we’ve lived our lives. That’s why this book is not about growing old gracefully.”
He is not, however, arguing that we should rage against aging, nor that we should “go quietly into that dark night.” Palmer admits that he has had his “share of falling down” but has recovered due to grace and the help of other people, for which he is grateful.
Then he adds these encouraging words: “For people like me, the notion that old age is a time to dial it down and play it safe is a cop-out. Those of us who are able should be raising hell on behalf of whatever we care about: freedom’s just another word for not needing to count the cost.”
Although a bit scary, this call to action by Palmer is clearly better than the definition of freedom found in Kris Kristofferson’s “freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose” in his famous song “Me and Bobby McGee.” That freedom is found at the bottom of the barrel, so to speak, while Palmer’s freedom is expensive—although worth the money for a person of integrity and courage. That demand for integrity is what makes it scary—and valuable.
What Palmer wrote also reminded me of a comment made by progressive Christian author Brian McLaren at a weekend seminar for about 700 older Christian people (average age probably 68) several years ago in South Georgia. Talking about violence and prejudice in America long before the current crisis, he said “maybe it is time for some 70-year olds to get arrested?” A good friend of mine, a retired Methodist minister, now 80 years old, did just that in a Poor People’s protest in Tennessee two years ago.
Palmer goes beyond telling those of us on the verge of old age to “raise hell on behalf of whatever we care about.” He also approaches death with a certain equanimity. In one of his essays he wrote: “I have no idea what, if anything, I will learn from dying. This is all I know for sure: I have no bad memories of wherever I came from when I arrived on this planet, so I have no good reason to fear where I am going when I take my leave.”
Now that isn’t a comment you are likely to find in your daily devotional booklet. Palmer may be speaking “tongue-in-cheek,” but it seems to me that he does have his head on straight.
2 replies on “Aging Thoughts: Palmer”
Parker Palmer’s writings have been a source of great inspiration for me as a teacher and as a teacher of teachers and as a person making my way in the throes of academe.
When I saw Parker Palmer’s name, it was like meeting an old friend. Years ago, I had read some of his books and when his essays were published online at On Being, I read them, also. I valued his insights.
His quote: “Those of us who are able should be raising hell on behalf of whatever we care about . . .,” reminded me, an introvert, of one of “my firsts” at age 74, I participated in a rally. It is important to note that the organizers chose to promote the gathering as a rally to promote positive values in the spirit of Thich Nhat Hahn as contrasted with a protest march.
One Human Family is an organization that formed soon after Trump’s election. When the White Alliance, a White Supremacist group, leaf-letted cars at the Mississippi Valley Fair Grounds and Menard’s – before Charlottesville – they started organizing their first big event, a rally to affirm the values of diversity, inclusion, love and compassion.
My poster was a poster from the Campaign for Tibet backed on a Bernie Sander’s “A Future to Believe In” campaign placard. The poster contains a quote from the Dalai Lama: “Love and Compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.” A group of 700 -800 people gathered at noon Wednesday, August 16, 2017 at Vander Veer Park. It was a peaceful rally and the four Trump people in attendance were escorted out of the park and across the street. We walked around the perimeter of Vander Veer Park bordered by two heavily traveled Harrison and Brady Streets. Drivers going by honked their horns and gave thumbs up.
That evening NPR gave the rally national coverage with an interview of one of the participants.
Palmer’s comment also reminded me of another old friend Maggie Kuhn, an activist, who celebrated her forced retirement at age 65 by founding the Gray Panthers, an organization committed to “fundamental social change that would eliminate injustice, discrimination and oppression in our present society.” I had the good fortune to hear her speak at a conference. Maggie was an inspirational speaker, who was described as combining honey with hammer. Right before her death in 1995, she joined striking transit workers.
Today, we also have the legacy of John Lewis, a great Civil Rights Leader. In a New York Times opinion piece published on the day of his funeral, he urges us “to make good trouble.”