Geraldine’s Ethics of Empathy

Mother had the empathy of the oppressed. Being of Irish ancestry this is not surprising.  She had the ethics of care.  Her values were acquired from her father Johnnie, whose father came to the United States in 1847—the height of the potato famine which was called the “Great Hunger”.  During the famine more than one million Irish starved to death.  Queen Victoria exhibited the cruelty of the British towards the Irish by exporting grain and livestock from Ireland during this time.  She would not even let relief ships land at Ireland with food for those starving Irish.

Mother’s actions reflected the standard definition of “Empathy:” which is “the psychological identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts or attitudes of another.”   However, Mother’s actions reflected three ethical tenets all grounded in empathy, these are: do not make fun of anyone, do not pick on anyone, and do not leave anyone out.  It seemed she felt the responsibility to acknowledge the human value of every person. In our society the “difference” of others is routinely used as a basis to pick on, make fun of and leave out those who are different.  It may be because of skin color. It may be because of sexual orientation. It may be because of gender. It may be because of the practice of a religion other than Christianity.  Whatever the person’s difference it is used as the justification for discriminating against that person.  This indifference to difference is based on fear--make someone afraid and you can get them to do all kinds of mean things. Mother accepted the duty she had to others of hospitality.

Politicians routinely exploit this tendency of picking on and making fun of people who are different.  The epitaph on the tombstone of these politicians could read: “Here lies a man who dedicated his life to picking on and making fun of persons who looked different than himself.” Kansas politicians are at the forefront of this xenophobia now and they probably were when we were growing up, so, possibly Mother protected us from them.

I don’t know whether Mother knew of Terence, the Roman playwright, but she lived by his words, “I am human: nothing human is alien to me.” You might say there were not any African Americans nor any Muslims in Axtell nor any other persons who live at the margins in our society and that is true, but greater diversity for Mother would not have mattered.  No difference in a human would have been alien to her. And no difference would have motivated her to pick on, make fun of or leave out that person.

In 1947 I was a freshman in high school. Mother was attracted to underdogs and Mohandas Gandhi was one such underdog. He employed nonviolent methods to resist the British rule.  India got its freedom from British rule in August 1947. Mother spoke of him to me and she identified with both his resistance as a subaltern and of his manner of resisting by nonviolent means.

Mother’s humility was revealed when she invoked Quaker sayings.  She had several of these sayings, but the only one I can remember is, “Everyone is a bit strange except thee and me and sometimes I’m not so sure about thee." While her reciting this aphorism was an act of humility, it was intended as a lesson for me.  The lessons were typically brief, but even though I can’t remember the context I believe the timing of the lesson was important and appropriate.

At times Mother uttered words of caution. One of these cautionary ideas was,, “anticipation is greater than realization.” I wish I could remember what I was anticipating when she said that, but I can’t.  I can only imagine the countless times Mother must have anticipated things and had her hopes betrayed. Life was not easy for her.

One empathy lesson Mother taught me was in the form of an anecdote about a little nine year old girl who had just returned from a friend’s birthday party.  Laura found her Mother in the kitchen.  “Oh, Laura did you have a good time?” “Mom, it was so much fun.” “Honey, what did you do?” “Well, we played games, and, then Jennie opened her presents, she got so many gifts and she got such a beautiful doll. And then her Mom brought out the cake with nine lighted candles and Jennie blew out all the candles in one whiff.” Then Jennie made her wish. All the while Mom had been peeling potatoes as she listened to her daughter and she said, “Laura, I am so glad you had fun, anything else?” The smile faded from Laura’s face and she got serious, she said, “Mom, a little girl fell off her chair and everyone laughed but me.” Her Mom looked up as she sliced the potatoes and said, “Well, why didn’t you laugh, Laura?”  Laura looked sad as she said, “Because, Mom, that little girl was me!”

Another lesson came in 1947.  I went from a one-room country school, New Salem, to Axtell High School in town.  The high school was a beautiful building and it was built by the WPA, thanks to FDR. In my freshman year I would be going from room to room being taught classes by a different teacher for each subject. When I got home from signing up for classes Mother asked what subjects I would be studying in my freshman year.  I told her each of the subjects and each of the teachers.  When she heard World History she said,, “Oh, Charles how wonderful that will be.  Edith Samuelson will teach about Egypt and its Nile River, and its pyramids—how exciting.  We had so little that I couldn’t have blamed Mother if she had said, “Charles, why do you have to take that stuff it won’t help you make good money in a job?” But she didn’t say that and her joy of learning was one of the many legacies she left me.

Sometimes just being with someone and seeing how they do things and sensing how they must feel as they do things in the hard times presents a lesson you couldn’t learn any other way.  Mother was that someone in the fall of 1941 when Daddy went to the Veteran’s Hospital in Leavenworth to be diagnosed for and treated for pernicious anemia.  I was eight years and I was just trying to be a big boy and help Mother and not disappoint her. If things weren’t bad enough the rain gods were vigilant in providing us with our daily supply of rain. The pigs had great freedom as they went “slip sliding away” under the fence and onto the road to play a game of “catch me if you can.” Sometimes Mother has been criticized for being a “Stoic” implying a manner of emotional distance. There was no dime store psychologist there to help us that fall and I can assure you her being stoic helped us survive. I never heard a complaint from her.  She would have made Job hang his head in shame.

Five years later in the summer of 1946 when we lived in Frankfort Daddy was taken by a disease that caused him to lose weight from 180 pounds to 135 pounds, the disease was diagnosed as “worry” worry about a two-thousand dollar debt on an eight-thousand dollar farm.  Daddy spent several months in the Veterans Hospital in Lincoln, Nebraska. Again it fell to Mother to tend the farm.  I was now “a coming of age boy,” so, I was more help to Mother.  Make no mistake though she was the person who held things together and she did so with the same grace and patience as was the case  in 1941.  Again, no complaints by her.

When Uncle Donald and Aunt Edla or Aunt Viva and Uncle Perry would come from Junction City for a Sunday afternoon visit I could tell how much they admired and respected Mother.  Although we were impressed by them as they were all dressed up in fine clothes and they seemed so sophisticated next to us, but none of that mattered because it was Mother’s authenticity that put everything in the proper perspective.  Fr. Frank was at his best when he was around Mother.  I could sense and observe the love between them.  The interaction towards Mother that people had, was such that to experience it was like the country song says, “Words just get in the way.”

I am sure each of my sisters has her set of memories that will add to and enhance this sketchy remembrance.  This is especially true for the period sometime after 1956 that Mother was an Angel of Mercy at the Axtell Community Hospital. I would understand it if a person who did not know Mother read these words and accused me of “idealizing” Mother’s many fine qualities. She does sound too good to be true. However, contrariwise, some or all of my sisters may find that the encomiums I have used are not generous enough.

As I experience these dreadful times in which a dystopian society is now considered normal I wonder how Mother would react.  The seven deadly sins have always been with us, but it is hard to imagine a time the sins are passed off as virtues.  When the venal man that is now in the White House is put in this the highest position in the country it speaks not only of his venality, but to the venality of those who put him there.

While Mother would be aghast and she would feel as helpless as we do, she would not abandon her ethics--Geraldine’s Ethics of Empathy.