Dobe dodo, dobe dodo,dowaappp

Yep, I think about a mission, and automatically the theme song from that old TV show starts echoing through my mind. “If you accept this mission…” You know the standard beginning of each episode. The synopsis from episode to episode is very formulaic because it was that sort of show. I enjoyed it, though, and it offered great entertainment. But I’ll forever remember that theme music.

Mission, Me?

At one time, I was an anthropology grad student. I was extremely preoccupied with things grad students are preoccupied with, classes, research papers, labs, and such. I was very sweet on another anthropologist, and as the relationship deepened, there came that inevitable discussion of where do you see yourself going, what are your goals as an anthropologist. Her vision was full professorships and tenure at a major university. Major research projects, and eventually graduate students of her own.

She turned to me and sweetly asked, “And what about you, Lou?” I smiled, thought about it a while, vaguely said, “Well, pretty much the same, but I’d truly like to help make the world a better place for people.” She pondered this, but it was evident that she was disappointed. I had no detailed plan for how I’d become a known voice at national meetings, attract post-docs, and mature as a tenure-track professional. Perhaps she thought I’d merely continue to exist on a mundane plane?

The relationship slowly faded, and ultimately, I left grad school without my doctorate. I spent several years working in an operating room while I worked at articulating my vision of anthropology into a non-academic setting. eventually a library department in a small city near Boston gave the opportunity.

The Heritage Center

Over the next several years, I developed a mission while working within a small portion of a larger city. Eastie was only about a square mile in size but contained about five vibrant ethnic communities. For those communities, we developed programs that celebrated home cultures, but were inviting to the neighbors of other traditions. The best example of that was The Hidden Countryside. All the groups brought to the United States agricultural and horticultural traditions that they continued here in the United States. Because of the compact nature of the community, the Italian garden was often across the back fence from those for Portuguese, Polish, or Lithuanian ones. Mrs. Gelowtsky’s Polish garden abutted Mr. Fabrizzio’s Italian one. Gardener’s shared hints, fruits, and occasionally shook their heads about the traditions of the neighbors.

The Hidden Countryside

We began using the technology of the day ( the early ’80’s) with a slide show and lecture about the Hidden Countryside to which all community members were invited. An international potluck collation followed. It was a success and led to other multicultural events that emphasized the unity and diversity of the community. We celebrated the differences, commonalities, and points of intersection. We eventually moved from slide shows to video.

Over the years, I studied and presented culinary, religious, and other traditions. Eventually, in 1987, our work on the Hidden Countryside and Saints Festivals attracted the attention of the Smithsonian, and some of what we had started in a small corner of a larger city made it to the Mall in Washington, DC, in 1988.

That’s a long time ago, and the story is more complicated than a brief post can cover. But from that fumbling statement came something much better defined, that grew.

I’m no longer in “mission mode” as I was in those days, but I have a great feeling that I was able to make a contribution, and not just present a paper at symposia, seek tenure, or struggle to acquire grants. I did something.