Update of ICA Social Research Virtual Gathering
In one week - Sunday, May 10 - we gather virtually. Celebrate with us: * a new name (ICA Social Research Center), * a new website, and * an organization of the files into nine collections giving form to the wisdom and constructs of our 60-year heritage. A new name. Do you remember when you were first involved in Institute research? Was it in 5th City when research was focused on taking 5th City to the world? Or was it in a Global Research Assembly where we shared our learnings? Wherever it was, what you learned about being a researcher has probably followed you ever since. Now as you hear the news you may find yourself analyzing what is going on and asking such questions as, “What does the world need now? What are positive trends I can act on to help them become a reality?” The reality of continuing to be researchers and engaging others is behind our new name. A new website: https://icaglobalarchives.org <https://icaglobalarchives.org/>. The website feels a bit like the tip of an iceberg. Although we have spent years organizing files and now have put many of them on the website to share with the world, we wonder: · What is happening to the world in 2020 and what clues do we have of what is needed? · What have we learned from our past experiences that could be a resource to the trends and challenges we are facing today? · How can the website better serve to highlight people and projects of like-mind today and be a dialogue with our own learnings past and present? These questions point to the intents we have for our virtual gathering. First we intend to dialogue together articulating life experiences and encounters with challenges like climate change and the virus. Finally we seek to identify any clues of how our past could be a resource to the future. That is it. Two things: analyzing the present reality and bringing past wisdom into the conversation. The collections. We plan to do this thru focused conversations related to each collection. Each collection will be taped and have recorded notes to share with further working groups. The dialogues will result in touching our hearts, creating new perspectives and identifying possible action steps. The documentation will be shared with colleagues in Asia who will participate in a follow-up conference this summer. We look forward to seeing you virtually for one or more of these conversations. Join us Sunday for a context on the next three days - or for any one (or more) of the conversations in the next three days. We are all aware of the power of the corporate mind to tackle the seemingly impossible to make it possible. If this intrigues you, read the attachment for steps to register. These are the times. We are among the sensitive and responsive people of 2020. Peace, The Social Research Center Team Lynda Cock, Doug Druckenmiller, Steve Ediger, Jack Gilles, Beret Griffith, Mary Laura Jones, Frank Knutson, Paul Noah, Wendell Refior, Oliveann Slotta, Karen Snyder, Jeanette Stanfield, Nelson Stover, Tim Wegner, Jim Wiegel
Hi Karen: How do I get into the Wiegel presentation in 15 minutes time? John P *From:* Dialogue [mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net] *On Behalf Of *Karen Snyder via Dialogue *Sent:* May-03-20 8:41 AM *To:* ica-network@ica-international.org; Colleague Dialogue; Colleague Dialogue; Order Ecumenical Community; Order Ecumenical Community *Cc:* Karen Snyder *Subject:* [Dialogue] Update of ICA Social Research Virtual Gathering In one week - Sunday, May 10 - we gather virtually. Celebrate with us: * a new name (ICA Social Research Center), * a new website, and * an organization of the files into nine collections giving form to the wisdom and constructs of our 60-year heritage. *A new name. *Do you remember when you were first involved in Institute research? Was it in 5th City when research was focused on taking 5th City to the world? Or was it in a Global Research Assembly where we shared our learnings? Wherever it was, what you learned about being a researcher has probably followed you ever since. Now as you hear the news you may find yourself analyzing what is going on and asking such questions as, “What does the world need now? What are positive trends I can act on to help them become a reality?” The reality of *continuing to be researchers* and engaging others is behind our new name. *A new website:* https://icaglobalarchives.org. The website feels a bit like the tip of an iceberg. Although we have spent years organizing files and now have put many of them on the website to share with the world, we wonder: · What is happening to the world in 2020 and what clues do we have of what is needed? · What have we learned from our past experiences that could be a resource to the trends and challenges we are facing today? · How can the website better serve to highlight people and projects of like-mind today and be a dialogue with our own learnings past and present? These questions point to the intents we have for our virtual gathering. First we intend to dialogue together articulating life experiences and encounters with challenges like climate change and the virus. Finally we seek to identify any clues of how our past could be a resource to the future. That is it. Two things: analyzing the present reality and bringing past wisdom into the conversation. *The collections.* We plan to do this thru focused conversations related to each collection. Each collection will be taped and have recorded notes to share with further working groups. The dialogues will result in touching our hearts, creating new perspectives and identifying possible action steps. The documentation will be shared with colleagues in Asia who will participate in a follow-up conference this summer. We look forward to seeing you virtually for one or more of these conversations. Join us Sunday for a context on the next three days - or for any one (or more) of the conversations in the next three days. We are all aware of the power of the corporate mind to tackle the seemingly impossible to make it possible. If this intrigues you, read the attachment for steps to register. These are the times. We are among the sensitive and responsive people of 2020. Peace, *The Social Research Center Team* Lynda Cock, Doug Druckenmiller, Steve Ediger, Jack Gilles, Beret Griffith, Mary Laura Jones, Frank Knutson, Paul Noah, Wendell Refior, Oliveann Slotta, Karen Snyder, Jeanette Stanfield, Nelson Stover, Tim Wegner, Jim Wiegel
Sent from my iPhone On May 10, 2020, at 3:42 PM, John Patterson via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Hi Karen: How do I get into the Wiegel presentation in 15 minutes time? John P From: Dialogue [mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net<mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net>] On Behalf Of Karen Snyder via Dialogue Sent: May-03-20 8:41 AM To: ica-network@ica-international.org<mailto:ica-network@ica-international.org>; Colleague Dialogue; Colleague Dialogue; Order Ecumenical Community; Order Ecumenical Community Cc: Karen Snyder Subject: [Dialogue] Update of ICA Social Research Virtual Gathering In one week - Sunday, May 10 - we gather virtually. Celebrate with us: * a new name (ICA Social Research Center), * a new website, and * an organization of the files into nine collections giving form to the wisdom and constructs of our 60-year heritage. A new name. Do you remember when you were first involved in Institute research? Was it in 5th City when research was focused on taking 5th City to the world? Or was it in a Global Research Assembly where we shared our learnings? Wherever it was, what you learned about being a researcher has probably followed you ever since. Now as you hear the news you may find yourself analyzing what is going on and asking such questions as, “What does the world need now? What are positive trends I can act on to help them become a reality?” The reality of continuing to be researchers and engaging others is behind our new name. A new website: https://icaglobalarchives.org<https://eur05.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Ficaglobalarchives.org%2F&data=02%7C01%7C%7Cc853d906ea8e4e62adbf08d7f51a538a%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C637247365725683456&sdata=joV%2BMxHLXxHaAA483wOy8XC6zhooIWeQgiLyJNTTJ7c%3D&reserved=0>. The website feels a bit like the tip of an iceberg. Although we have spent years organizing files and now have put many of them on the website to share with the world, we wonder: · What is happening to the world in 2020 and what clues do we have of what is needed? · What have we learned from our past experiences that could be a resource to the trends and challenges we are facing today? · How can the website better serve to highlight people and projects of like-mind today and be a dialogue with our own learnings past and present? These questions point to the intents we have for our virtual gathering. First we intend to dialogue together articulating life experiences and encounters with challenges like climate change and the virus. Finally we seek to identify any clues of how our past could be a resource to the future. That is it. Two things: analyzing the present reality and bringing past wisdom into the conversation. The collections. We plan to do this thru focused conversations related to each collection. Each collection will be taped and have recorded notes to share with further working groups. The dialogues will result in touching our hearts, creating new perspectives and identifying possible action steps. The documentation will be shared with colleagues in Asia who will participate in a follow-up conference this summer. We look forward to seeing you virtually for one or more of these conversations. Join us Sunday for a context on the next three days - or for any one (or more) of the conversations in the next three days. We are all aware of the power of the corporate mind to tackle the seemingly impossible to make it possible. If this intrigues you, read the attachment for steps to register. These are the times. We are among the sensitive and responsive people of 2020. Peace, The Social Research Center Team Lynda Cock, Doug Druckenmiller, Steve Ediger, Jack Gilles, Beret Griffith, Mary Laura Jones, Frank Knutson, Paul Noah, Wendell Refior, Oliveann Slotta, Karen Snyder, Jeanette Stanfield, Nelson Stover, Tim Wegner, Jim Wiegel _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net https://eur05.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Flists.wedge...
Hi John hOW TO PARTICIPATE PROCEDURES Thanks for joining us for this series of virtual gatherings. This page gives you 4 important pieces of information for how to participate: 1. links you will need to participate on line, 2. ground rules/hints and clues for how to participate, 3. roles, 4. and a participant’s packet with a few additional pages detail our week ahead. 1. LINKS YOU WILL NEED to participate online. (Updated information is posted to these links. You may want to bookmark them in your browser.) Link to the Sojourn Schedule<https://drive.google.com/open?id=12HDtiFbfU_n8eOw_60x5EA1NDvjo4nVAW2ZczCyVwUM> Link to Our Main conference room<https://meet.google.com/wou-oczc-khh> for the week (we will begin here at every session) To join the video meeting, click this link: https://meet.google.com/wou-oczc-khh Otherwise, to join by phone, dial +1 669-238-0511 and enter this PIN: 299 868 271# To view more phone numbers, click this link: https://tel.meet/wou-oczc-khh?hs=5 https://drive.google.com/file/d/11SsM1stpWpWILVi5-63_FpegqukXg6Xn/view?usp=s... You will be prompted “Ask to join the meeting” Click the prompt, enter your name (if prompted) and wait to be admitted by the facilitator. Link to Breakout rooms<https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Lk0T2MaAfoflVU62TBktomekUPZSjjh3J3O86fNbGYE/edit?usp=sharing> these are additional rooms for breakout tables if needed, tech support etc. Link to the shared sojourn document<https://docs.google.com/document/d/134CjJ_WHpVNFtKCBgxgHzHgzrV6rM0lrkQGKaN9Qh3s/edit?usp=sharing> (this is like our blackboard or sticky wall. (Video’s of previous sessions will be posted here.) Link to the ICA Social Research website<https://icaglobalarchives.org/> Link to Tech support: Tech Support room<https://meet.google.com/hzd-fzbd-dyt> (Google Meet room) To get help via video meeting, click this link: https://meet.google.com/hzd-fzbd-dyt Otherwise, to join by phone, dial +1 347-508-5077 and enter this PIN: 589 854 120# International? To view more phone numbers, click this link: https://tel.meet/hzd-fzbd-dyt?hs=5 To get help with Google meet, go here: Google Meet Help<https://support.google.com/meet#topic=7306097> 1. GROUND RULES/etiquette * We are using Google Meet this week. If possible, watch a video to familiarize you with this technology. Here is one.<https://youtu.be/wGXI0KpkR50> * Try to log on a little early so you have an opportunity to make sure things are working and get help connecting if needed. One of the guides will be available on line 15-20 minutes before the listed start time. * Mute your microphone when you are not speaking. This cuts down on echoes, feedback and background noises during the session! The mute button can be activated/deactivated by a keyboard shortcut: PC: “ctrl” D MAC: “cmd” D (This is a “toggle” switch, it alternately turns the mic on and off) * Raise your hand or wave if you want to speak so one of the guides can recognize you. OH AND UNMUTE your microphone so we can hear you * Say your name to begin — “This is Lynda” when you start speaking and say “I am complete” when you are finished. AND MUTE your microphone again! HINTS AND CLUES * Check the lighting so we can see you — no backlight - face into the light. An extra light from your “good” side also helps * Try to set your camera close to your screen to enable eye contact when you are speaking * Turn off your video if you are eating or blowing your nose * If you need them, print out some of the pages in this packet so they are handy in front of you. OR open up windows on your computer with the most important items: You may need 3-4 windows open so you can navigate back and forth among them: One for the Meet main conference room, One for the shared document (blackboard/sticky wall for the session), One for the Social Research website, One for the agenda. * Watch this video on how to work with multiple windows on a PC<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pk_djG750y4> * Watch this video on how to work with multiple windows on a MAC<https://support.apple.com/en-us/HT204948> * Watch this video on how to manage multiple tabs in Chrome<https://www.pcmag.com/how-to/how-to-manage-your-google-chrome-tabs> * It is ok to be confused, sort of like these days . . . * ROLES: There are 3 designated roles for each session. You, the PARTICIPANT is most important You are the person doing the research and interchange. Then there is the SESSION GUIDE. This person is familiar with the topic of the session and will set contexts and lead procedures. The TECH PERSON will help us all to navigate our online environment Janet A. Sanders ________________________________ From: Janet Sanders <janetasanders@hotmail.com> Sent: May 10, 2020 3:46 PM To: Colleague Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> Subject: Re: [Dialogue] Update of ICA Social Research Virtual Gathering Sent from my iPhone On May 10, 2020, at 3:42 PM, John Patterson via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Hi Karen: How do I get into the Wiegel presentation in 15 minutes time? John P From: Dialogue [mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net<mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net>] On Behalf Of Karen Snyder via Dialogue Sent: May-03-20 8:41 AM To: ica-network@ica-international.org<mailto:ica-network@ica-international.org>; Colleague Dialogue; Colleague Dialogue; Order Ecumenical Community; Order Ecumenical Community Cc: Karen Snyder Subject: [Dialogue] Update of ICA Social Research Virtual Gathering In one week - Sunday, May 10 - we gather virtually. Celebrate with us: * a new name (ICA Social Research Center), * a new website, and * an organization of the files into nine collections giving form to the wisdom and constructs of our 60-year heritage. A new name. Do you remember when you were first involved in Institute research? Was it in 5th City when research was focused on taking 5th City to the world? Or was it in a Global Research Assembly where we shared our learnings? Wherever it was, what you learned about being a researcher has probably followed you ever since. Now as you hear the news you may find yourself analyzing what is going on and asking such questions as, “What does the world need now? What are positive trends I can act on to help them become a reality?” The reality of continuing to be researchers and engaging others is behind our new name. A new website: https://icaglobalarchives.org<https://eur05.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Ficaglobalarchives.org%2F&data=02%7C01%7C%7Cc853d906ea8e4e62adbf08d7f51a538a%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C637247365725683456&sdata=joV%2BMxHLXxHaAA483wOy8XC6zhooIWeQgiLyJNTTJ7c%3D&reserved=0>. The website feels a bit like the tip of an iceberg. Although we have spent years organizing files and now have put many of them on the website to share with the world, we wonder: · What is happening to the world in 2020 and what clues do we have of what is needed? · What have we learned from our past experiences that could be a resource to the trends and challenges we are facing today? · How can the website better serve to highlight people and projects of like-mind today and be a dialogue with our own learnings past and present? These questions point to the intents we have for our virtual gathering. First we intend to dialogue together articulating life experiences and encounters with challenges like climate change and the virus. Finally we seek to identify any clues of how our past could be a resource to the future. That is it. Two things: analyzing the present reality and bringing past wisdom into the conversation. The collections. We plan to do this thru focused conversations related to each collection. Each collection will be taped and have recorded notes to share with further working groups. The dialogues will result in touching our hearts, creating new perspectives and identifying possible action steps. The documentation will be shared with colleagues in Asia who will participate in a follow-up conference this summer. We look forward to seeing you virtually for one or more of these conversations. Join us Sunday for a context on the next three days - or for any one (or more) of the conversations in the next three days. We are all aware of the power of the corporate mind to tackle the seemingly impossible to make it possible. If this intrigues you, read the attachment for steps to register. These are the times. We are among the sensitive and responsive people of 2020. Peace, The Social Research Center Team Lynda Cock, Doug Druckenmiller, Steve Ediger, Jack Gilles, Beret Griffith, Mary Laura Jones, Frank Knutson, Paul Noah, Wendell Refior, Oliveann Slotta, Karen Snyder, Jeanette Stanfield, Nelson Stover, Tim Wegner, Jim Wiegel _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net https://eur05.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Flists.wedge...
Friends, Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey. https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net mailto:d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414
TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa. Jim Wiegel “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis 401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com www.partnersinparticipation.com On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Friends, Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey. https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
I'm glad to have known Teresa - and Bob - both of whom I first met at the Academy in Chicago in 1971. Thank you Catherine for your words. They helped me recall Teresa's presence from those days. Dharmalingam On Wednesday, 13 May 2020, 06:23:45 am GMT+8, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa. Jim Wiegel “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis 401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com www.partnersinparticipation.com On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Friends, Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey. https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
Thank you James Wiegel for this nice tribute to Teresa Lingafilter. I met Teresa and Bob at the Cebu House in the early 70's. She was kind and welcoming. I admired her sharp wit. I'm sending her off with love and prayers for peace. Elsa Batica St Paul, MN On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 05:23:45 PM CDT, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa. Jim Wiegel “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis 401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com www.partnersinparticipation.com On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Friends, Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey. https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
Thank you Jim. On Wed, May 13, 2020 at 10:07 PM E B via Dialogue < dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
Thank you James Wiegel for this nice tribute to Teresa Lingafilter. I met Teresa and Bob at the Cebu House in the early 70's. She was kind and welcoming. I admired her sharp wit. I'm sending her off with love and prayers for peace.
Elsa Batica St Paul, MN
On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 05:23:45 PM CDT, James Wiegel via Dialogue < dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020
Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief.
Go in peace, Teresa.
Jim Wiegel <http://partnersinparticipation.com/?page_id=123>
“That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis
401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353
623-363-3277
jfwiegel@yahoo.com <marilyn.oyler@gmail.com>
www.partnersinparticipation.com
On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue < dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
Friends,
Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care
Peace,
Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
Jim, A profound and heartfelt response. What you say about her rings true from my much limited opportunity to be in her presence. Thank you. Peace, Jack
On May 12, 2020, at 17:23, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa.
Jim Wiegel <http://partnersinparticipation.com/?page_id=123> “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis
401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com <mailto:marilyn.oyler@gmail.com> www.partnersinparticipation.com <http://www.partnersinparticipation.com/>
On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
Friends,
Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care <https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care>
Peace,
Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net <mailto:d.michael.shaw@comcast.net> 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net <mailto:Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net <http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net> _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
Wasn't me -- Catherine Whitney wrote it. I just cut and pasted Jim Wiegel “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis 401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com www.partnersinparticipation.com On Wednesday, May 13, 2020, 06:37:02 AM MST, Jack Gilles <jackcgilles@gmail.com> wrote: Jim, A profound and heartfelt response. What you say about her rings true from my much limited opportunity to be in her presence. Thank you. Peace, Jack On May 12, 2020, at 17:23, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa. Jim Wiegel “That which consumes me is not man, nor the earth, nor the heavens, but the flame which consumes man, earth, and sky." Nikos Kazantzakis 401 North Beverly Way,Tolleson, Arizona 85353 623-363-3277 jfwiegel@yahoo.com www.partnersinparticipation.com On Tuesday, May 12, 2020, 02:39:48 PM MST, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: Friends, Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey. https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net 040414 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
I don’t have Catherine Whitney’s email address - Hopefully Jim or Michael can help that happen... Catherine - thank you for writing such a wonderful remembrance of Teresa. I remember how delighted Warren and I were when we first met all you “youngsters” of the Ithaca House cadre. Those were certainly special days! (must have been 1969 or ’70)…. Such high energy and dedication to leaving the world a better place. I never hear a Santana song without thinking of those times. It was such a shock to hear of Bob’s death so many years ago at such a young age - and now, Teresa - still way too young. I am so sorry for your loss of such dear friends. I am hoping that you will be able to have another reunion on Whidbey Island soon to celebrate the special gift to the Universe that was Teresa. With love, sadness and gratitude, Geri Tolman On May 12, 2020, at 6:23 PM, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote: TERESA LINGAFELTER, BELOVED FRIEND – MAY 10, 2020 Teresa was physically small, but she had a big presence. I think anyone who knew her would agree with that. She was razor sharp intellectually, and for that reason she could be testy sometimes, even gruff. In all the years I knew her, I can’t remember Teresa ever letting an idiotic statement stand without rebuttal. If you were the one spouting the idiocy, it could sting. But then, an instant after she slayed your foolish dragon, she would open up with a laugh, a silly joke, a sweetness and a vulnerability that was disarming and warming. She was a good friend. Teresa was always youthful, with her wide, devilish smile, her forceful point of view, her robust struggles and great delights. But in other ways she seemed older than her years. When I first met her and her husband Bob, along with the band of miscreants who formed a community development cadre at the University of Washington we called Ithaca (yes, after Ithaca of the Odyssey), she was much more mature than me. I skated on the surface; Teresa was deep. She set me straight on many occasions, and I loved her for it. After the UW, Teresa and I lived through various cycles, including working together during an intense period in the seventies when we put our minds to the big idea of social change. After Bob died in 1996, there was a new dimension to our relationship—the humbling fact of our fragility. If we’re lucky, there are people who come along in life and completely upend the way we think and live. Teresa was like that for me, as was Bob. The Lingafelters barreled into the world, working in some of the most crisis-stricken parts of the nation and the globe, and shook progress from the trees. They were talented and committed, and after Bob died, Teresa proved that she was a genius in urban planning. All those footprints of change. It was something to watch. Down through the decades, separated by place, circumstances and divergent careers, our little Ithaca group survived as a touchstone of our lives, separate and common. We started getting together occasionally a while ago—kind of a “what’s up?” retreat. More recently we’ve met every two years for a few days at a wonderful house on Whidbey Island in Washington State. I describe these gatherings to friends as college reunions, but they’re not exactly that—more about the future than about memories. We talk about the issues of the day, the change we can make in our disparate corners, and what it will look like to grow old together. That’s what grieves me most—the idea that I won’t grow old with Teresa. We were looking ahead to our next gathering when Covid struck. My last view of Teresa was on March 21, smiling out of her Zoom box on our first group get-together. She didn’t make it to the second. A brain tumor, hidden from view, its effects masked by the strains of the circumstances surrounding Covid, sneaked up on her while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere. She didn’t survive the ordeal. The loss is unspeakable, but in poetry Teresa’s steady voice speaks to me. I can close my eyes and hear Teresa reciting lines from a poem by DH Lawrence, an old favorite called We are Transmitters: Give, and it shall be given unto you is still the truth about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief. Go in peace, Teresa.
Teresa’s nurturing of so many living possibilities on planet earth makes her death on Mother’s Day both sad and joyous. Joe and I remember her at the Oombulgurri consult in 1975 — as the most “can do,” “we will,” “let’s do it,” person on the auxiliary team. She inspired all the women (like me, Judy Wiegel, and others) to take on this first HDP Consult with courage — even if it meant daring to confront a King Brown snake that might, in the late hours of evening, be lurking in the latrine. We remember and celebrate her life with gratitude. Marilyn and Joe Crocker
On May 12, 2020, at 5:39 PM, Michael Shaw via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
Friends,
Molly received a phone call this afternoon from Sarah Phillips today telling her that Teresa Lingafelter passed away on Mother's Day. The link below was from a GoFundMe page that was set up by Teresa's daughter, Rebecca. There are 3 separate posts that share the last days of Teresa's journey.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care <https://www.gofundme.com/f/teresa-lingafelter-home-care>
Peace, Michael Shaw d.michael.shaw@comcast.net <mailto:d.michael.shaw@comcast.net> 040414
_______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
participants (11)
-
Beret Griffith -
Dharmalingam Vinasithamby -
E B -
Geraldine Tolman -
Jack Gilles -
James Wiegel -
Janet Sanders -
John Patterson -
Karen Snyder -
Mari Crocker -
Michael Shaw