Therefore, in breaking the radio silence, I wish to update you all not with words, but with photos, through a photo gallery glimpse into my German spring and the accomplishments and tasks that have occupied my time these past weeks:
Connecting with Nathan the Wise
during a visit to Wolfenbüttel as part of our staff weekend
away in the country at the end of March.
And the Easter baskets created to share with my friends on Easter.
"And you should also live" - The theme for the North German Annual Conference held in Berlin April 12-15.
The coming weeks will continue to be busy. On Monday I fly to Tampa, Florida for two weeks to take part in the United Methodist General Conference. But from Tampa, I plan to post updates on the happenings at and adventures of General Conference. So, until then, I am signing off. But next time, the radio silence will not perpetuate so long.
and none of us should countenance anything which undermines it.”
– Eleanor Roosevelt
Last year at this time, I never really would have described myself with the ‘feminist’ label. And two years ago, when I celebrated International Women’s Day with my sister in labor in the hospital (a fitting celebratory activity for women’s day!), it was the first time that I ‘celebrated’ or even recognized the existence of International Women’s Day at all.
Now, in the past, it wasn’t necessarily that women’s rights weren’t important to me, but at the same time, I wouldn’t have called myself a feminist. However, as my stumbling across a 12th grade research paper on the Wage Pay Gap and a freshman-year paper on the importance of female leadership this past week would seem to indicate, I have been either a mildly subdued or completely closeted feminist for a long time.
During the past few months in Berlin, I have had more conversations about feminism than I had even during my college years living with Miriam Wood and Katie Kraft (Yes, the Rosie the Riveter poster is here for you two!). However, those past conversations helped to feed the seed that has finally broken soil and surfaced as I finally claim my own feminist identity.
It is for this reason that International Women’s Day this year cannot pass without a blog post dedicated to the topic (even if it comes a day late!). And this year, International Women’s Day has another added sense of
importance. On Wednesday, I received an email from my mother that one of my favorite great aunts had passed away. When I was little, I didn’t really know who Aunt Ann was. We saw her when we went to church with Grandma on Easter and otherwise received occasional cards from her – sometimes on our birthdays, but always at Christmas. In writing our Christmas ‘Thank You’ Notes, Aunt Ann always received the longest, most-detailed note – not only because we saw her less frequently, but because she placed such great value in reading about what we were up to in our lives.
When we began frequenting Ellwood City more often during my years in middle and high school as my grandmother got older, as we visited her more often, as we helped her move out of and sell her house, and as we returned for her funeral, I began to gain a more wholistic sense of who, exactly, Aunt Ann was and gained a renewed respect for her, her strength, her manner of speech, her interest in the world and in my sisters and me, and her compassion that drove her to volunteer and to stay active within her community. After my grandmother’s death and during my years at university, I seldom made the trek to Ellwood City, but regularly corresponded with Aunt Ann and shared the details of my studies, my service and my travels. During my time in Turkey and Germany during the past few years, we continued to write letters and I diligently responded to her notecards, knowing that writing back meant so much.
This past summer, I had two week’s time to visit my friends in DC, attend a conference, get my medical clearance and pack my bags for my return to Germany. However, I had this nagging feeling that I needed to somehow stop in Ellwood City and visit my mother’s cousins, my great Aunt Gladys, and Aunt Ann. This time, I listened to that nagging feeling - you know, that gut feeling you get, when you know you need to do something, but you don’t know why?
Now I know why we drove three hours out of our way that Sunday afternoon to visit Aunt Ann. And I am immensely thankful that I had the opportunity to see this woman, strong in her faith, her love of life, and her thirst for examining the world with a lens of justice, one last time.
Might we remember and thank the strong female role models like Anna K. Worrell in our lives, celebrate the work of current female leaders around the world, and continue to work that all women might be treated with justice, equality, and respect and granted the same freedoms and rights that all people deserve. Happy International Women’s Day.
“A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.”
- Eleanor Roosevelt
n continuing to use it to fulfill an already existing need. In an attempt to live simply, this urge to create has gravitated towards a creativity of turning trash to treasure during my time here in Berlin, a shift that has been accompanied by an adventure into new mediums of creation - from the familiar of sewing, knitting and decoupaging, to the somewhat explored photography and to the newer forms of painting and drawing.
As 
I gathered furniture together for my apartment here in Berlin, rather than buying crates or containers simply to hold 'stuff,' I have become a connoisseur of utilizing that, which would otherwise be thrown to the curb. To hold my knitting, I converted a box that my parents had sent me into a sewing basket. The sewing, knitting and crocheting needles, thread, scissors, paintbrushes inhabit glass jars from various jams and foods that I have eaten in the past five months.
Paper that I want to recycle gets tossed next to my trashcan into another old packing box covered with envelopes and tea bag wrappers.
My prize ‘trash’ creation, however, is my table. Since moving in in September, I have been regularly visiting flea markets in search of the perfect table for my room. A small end table to sit next to my sitting chair upon which to set my current reading pile and a cup of warm tea was all that I wanted. But, I found no table that met my expectations.
Then, however, one of the chairs in our kitchen broke. After bearing the wear of people leaning back into the wooden chair, the wood had split between the chair seat and back. One morning I returned from running to find the outcas
t chair alone in the hallway of our apartment next to the trash. After waiting one day, I smuggled the chair into my room and took the cracked chair-back, and made the crack final and official by severing the chair back and chair seat. Since then, I have found my perfect table. At a cost of zero, the chair (now turned table) serves all of the desired purposes. And with a bit of yellow paint, it adds a bright and jolliness to my room during these winter months here in Berlin.
Other than making cushion covers for the old chair I pulled out of our apartment storage, my creation of trash treasures may simply subside as my need for such handy creations ceases. However, my interest in sewing, photography, painting and drawing remains high. Perhaps, cards, things to wear and artwork for my room will be what comes to follow.
