A few weeks ago, I had occasion to be in the county I lived in before I returned to Guilford as an alumna and employee. The county where my children were born. It was a time when Guilford, aside from my Guilford friendships, and my lifelong identity as a Guilfordian, wasn't too much on my radar screen. I wasn't thinking about higher education, what it took to keep the College going financially, who was stewarding our core values and our idealism. But, I was definitely benefitting from my significant Guilford friendships I was a part of then, and my education.
I also didn't spend very much time thinking about generations of Guilfordians in the world or where they were, or, the possibility that some of them could be in my own backyard. Yes, I thought about being a Guilford graduate every time I attended a Quaker meeting. After all, this place I was living was Bucks County, PA, cradle of Quakerism for goodness sake. But in retrospect, I wish I had thought to call the alumni office then and ask "where are our people!"
This brings me to a few weeks ago. I went back to the old "backyard" of Bucks County. Spring had burst onto the scene in a show-offy way that was just breathtaking. The Delaware River, River Road drive, and the heartland of Upper Bucks County...all extraordinarily more beautiful than I even remembered. I set out on a stunning Saturday morning with my very best travel companion, the GPS lady, and off we went. I had run across information about a graduate from 1959 who lived in the area. With Quaker ties, and ties to George School I was aghast that I had not ever met her or known of her.
GPS best friend (I haven't named her yet and it's not Siri) led me out to the rolling GREEN hills of Upper Bucks, and to an intersection when she announced "you have arrived at your destination." I looked to my left and to my right. No sign of life. No house, no mailbox, no pathways. Just fields. On all four corners of the rural intersection. I was about to have a word in my head with Guilford's database, but I first thought to check myself to see what careless mistake I might have made in entering the address.
I scratched my head and did some driving around to investigate when I found the address hanging from a small post at then end of a not quite driveway looking path. I had arrived. The night before, I had called this person, my fellow alumna. In a most gracious way, she immediately started to explain to me that she was planning to give her annual fund gift before the end of the year. I cringed a little, and tried to find the words to explain to her that I truly was interested in a connection. That my interest was in hearing her story about Guilford and Bucks County, and about being Quaker in Bucks County. Her follow up response, and I believe it would have been her response no matter my request, was "we will be home, and we are expecting out of town guests, but if you can come over in the morning you can meet them too!" "Can you come at xx time tomorrow?" I was struck by her generosity. I was already astounded by the Guilford kinship that must have prompted her to invite me, a stranger, to her home not only to meet her, but to meet her friends. I got that buzzy feeling I get inside when something good is about to happen.
When I drove down the path I entered into a collection of old Bucks County stone buildings in the middle of farm terrain. Before I could even look around to see which one might be her home, I see a woman coming out of her front door, smiling, and waving. I can't really describe the experience of that moment, except to say that I could sense her spirit even before I got out of my car. It was like a big wave of openness - the ones they show in color in movies and on t.v. - that engulfed me and said "welcome."
A lot happens in a moment of greeting. So many factors are in play that have nothing to do with just the words spoken. So much happened in our greeting. Clara, my fellow alumna, accepted me based on something that was bigger than both of us. Something about the ideals associated with whatever "Guilford" means to people. And so it began: the story telling and story sharing, the commonalities, the friends/alums we have in common. She came to Guilford from Newtown Friends School, and before that, China. She worked at George School for many years. So much more to tell. But I was entranced by the way she welcomed me into her home; by the way she interacted with her 14 year old grandson who walked in while I was visiting. She was the embodiment of care and love and acceptance - this woman who lived in my old backyard and who I haven't known until now. She filled up the room with something that is rare. And it affected me. The two friends we have in common were her best friends from Guilford. They are also women who fill up the room with love, and intellect, and humor and grace. But the real story here is the one about being embraced because of the belief in a shared experience just by virtue of living, and learning in a place that you believe in. Even if it is just believing in the potential, the idealism of it all,. The fact that it has been shared, even when the years and decades, societal trends, leadership and emphasis was different. Something common has been experienced. That, is the story.
Because I met Clara and her husband, the decision to go to Meeting the next day in Bucks County was easy. I attended a local Meeting on another ridiculously gorgeous morning. 40 to 50 people, silently worshipping in a very old Quaker Meetinghouse. The query for the morning? Yes it's true...it was about Quaker education. At end of Meeting, I shared greetings from Guilford and from New Garden Friends Meeting. I asked Friends to hold the College in the Light. I felt again, embraced. As I sat down, the gentleman on the bench in front of me turned around. I had been admiring his bodacious eyebrows and his aura during Meeting. With a knock out smile, he told me his name and said "I graduated from Guilford in 1944." I'm not sure how I found the restraint it took to not grab him in a bear hug, but our handshake will last me a long time. We talked about some of his classmates, and our dear friend Stuart Maynard who had just passed away.
I floated away from Meeting that morning. I felt like the most privileged person. I sat in the middle of what felt like a global community of people who aspire to something important. This is critical for me to remember today. I just spent two and a half days in an "Understanding Racism" workshop at Guilford. Having core values, Quaker context and history, a mission statement, does not mean it is all so. There is a myth of Guilford. And, there are realities. We are humans. The ideals and the realities don't always or even often match up. But the ideal is the hope. And, the connections based on the ideal, are real. They matter. That again, is the story.
