Chautauqua

Abraham and Robin and Me

This is not a paid endorsement, but please do consider it a public service announcement.

is just our local example of IT!

IT was a social movement in America during times when its citizens valued intellectual engagement and progress as a collective society. It was also a time way before cell phones “dumbed us all down” and dulled our innate instinct to be curious about our world and to learn from it and from each other (but that’s for a different essay).

Truth be told, it was also a time where one didn’t have a whole lot of options to engage with a wider community—outside of church. But still, one didn’t have to come together for such a purpose—it still required choice, effort, and will. One could have stayed home. But these were kind of big deals, these Chautauqua.

Back then.

Chautauqua

Chautauqua (shə-TAW-kwə) is an adult education and social movement in the United States that peaked in popularity in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Chautauqua assemblies expanded and spread throughout rural America until the mid-1920s. The Chautauqua brought entertainment and culture for the whole community, with speakers, teachers, musicians, showmen, preachers, and specialists of the day. U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt is often quoted as saying that Chautauqua is "the most American thing in America". What he actually said was: "it is a source of positive strength and refreshment of mind and body to come to meet a typical American gathering like this—a gathering that is typically American in that it is typical of America at its best."

(Wikipedia, 2024)

To be fair to cell phones, they weren’t the things that killed off the Chautauqua movement in America—the reasons are certainly more complex and dynamic (think industrialization, world wars, economic depressions, urbanization, modernization, technology, etc.). But all have something in common—valued time. How do I (you, Americans, humans) place a value on time? How do I use time, for what purpose, and why? The Chautauqua movement provided experiences for a populace that valued, as mentioned above, intellectual engagement, but also entertainment, relationship, and community.

And like I said, it also required energy and will—you couldn’t stream Chautauqua on your TV while sitting on your couch eating pre-fabricated fast food for dinner after a long day‘s work. TV’s weren’t invented yet anyway (come to think of it, neither was pre-fabricated fast food). You had to go out to be where the Chautauqua was.

TEDTalks come close—in fact they are great digital sources of Chautauqua-like experiences. The only thing missing is one of the most valuable things that Chautauqua provides: an in-person, shared experience with others so that each other’s presence can be felt. In other words, in community.

Humans are social creatures, and yet we must fight against the kinds of technology that serves to separate us into solitary units of individual, lonesome striving. Others have written about this better than I ever could—the kinds of technology we’ve invited into our lives does not do what those who promised it would do back when they sold us on the idea: that technology will bring us together. Too many examples have amply proven otherwise.

To say nothing of what tech does to one’s attention span. A Chautauqua could go on for days calling to mind the old timey “tent revivals” of yore. Speaker after speaker could speak for hours on a wide variety of topics current to America or the world—and audiences would sit in raptured attention. Nowadays, we don’t even open a YouTube clip if it’s longer than a couple minutes. Consider for a moment why TikTok is so popular! Teachers are seeing this phenomenon in their students—lessons that could span the better course of an hour or more need to be drastically paired down or sprinkled with multiple mind breaks or diversions to maintain the attention of the class. But, that’s a postcard in and of itself for another time too.

They’re still around, though. Yes they are!

My wife and I like to have experiences together—this in lieu of physical gifts or things that take up space or add clutter. We are fortunate in our lives to have what we need—and the thing we don’t need most are more things. So we’ve made effort (a valued choice of the use of our time and financial resources) to engage with a wider community by becoming patrons of the arts—which includes the Seattle Arts and Lectures series. These experiences are very much in the spirit of Chautauqua in that they require a gathering of like-minded souls for the purpose of engaging in the celebration of the written or spoken word—this also includes musicals, plays, and intimate concerts.

Recently, we’ve enjoyed poetry readings and discussion with the poets (Padraig O’Tauma and Chris Abani and David Whyte); we experienced a couple of the unique spoken word/music collaborations of Stephen Jenkinson and Gregory Hoskins in their fabulous “Nights of Grief and Mystery” gatherings; we’ve sat a few times, mesmerized, in a very Chautauqua-like presentation of an historian’s portrayal of a couple of historical figures (Clay Jenkinson’s unique presentations of Thomas Jefferson, Meriwether Lewis, and Theodore Roosevelt); we’ve listened to Beethoven’s Ninth (his Ode to Joy) symphony during the holiday season; and we’ve gone to presentations by authors of notable works—herein is where Abraham and Robin come in.

Abraham Verghese and Robin Wall Kimmerer are two of my all-time favorite, contemporary authors. Both happen to have current books out on the market right now; both are of stature in our world; and both are of high intellect and articulation. Both have a unique way of using the English language in ways that are transcendent. I don’t need to go into detail about each since you are just a click away from learning more about each, should you so choose (and why wouldn’t you, unless you know about them already!).

Dr. Verghese wrote “Cutting For Stone,” the book that introduced me to him (I don’t read much fiction, so the fiction I do read HAS to be great.) His latest, the epic “A Covenant of Water” is set to be his magnum opus—Oprah Winfrey considers it one of the best books, if not the best, she’s ever read. And Dr. Wall Kimmerer wrote the acclaimed “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants.” I don’t gift books much, so when I do, they HAVE to be great. I’ve gifted “Braiding Sweetgrass.” I consider it essential reading. Her latest, which served as the foundation of her Chautauqua, is “The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World.” As patrons of SAL, we were gifted with both of these latest books from these authors—as I write, they are still in their packaging under our Christmas tree awaiting opening come December 25th. And I can hardly wait.

I could go into detail on what I got out of each author’s lectures, out of each Chautauqua, but I’ll save that for another time—I think I want to first read their books. Instead, what I want to finish with, and highlight strongly, was the overwhelming turnout for each author’s lecture—this is why I think both fall under the category of Chautauqua. Dr. Verghese spoke in the concert hall of Benaroya Hall—Seattle’s world-renowned, premier concert venue. The place was PACKED! Imagine that! PACKED with people coming together to hear an author speak about their work.

Dr. Wall Kimmerer spoke at another historic place, Seattle’s Town Hall in its Grand Hall auditorium. Again, the venue was PACKED. Packed with people who intentionally gathered to hear the wisdom from a Native Elder.

Each presented at times that typically really aren’t conducive to the sleep needs of a people who had to get up early the next morning and set off back to a long day’s work. Dr. Verghese spoke on a Sunday evening, ending his talk at 9:30pm; Dr. Wall Kimmerer spoke on a Monday evening with her talk ending just after 9pm. Both spoke, and engaged in a Q&A session for almost two hours each. Both audiences sat enraptured and engaged. Imagine that! In a current era where half of our country is under the spell of lies, innuendo, pseudo promises, and the performative and transactional “what’s in it for me” soon-to-be leadership of a wanna-be dictator, thousand came out over two nights to listen to two authors talk about their books and how they each framed, differently but no less profoundly, how the better angels of our natures can and should be called forth because…well, because we are better than this.

Gatherings such as these touch something deeper than the surface emotions that get attacked nowadays from politicians, news talking heads, and the like. Both Verghese and Wall Kimmerer touch parts of humanity that are all too rarely nowadays approached, let alone touch intimately or with reverence. Both Verghese and Wall Kimmerer, through their presence, their written words, their spoken narratives, and their Chautauqua, touch the Soul. And THAT was, I think, the main purpose of the Chautauqua to begin with—to be present in a moment, in community with others, to have our Souls called forth and born witness to. We don’t gather together in that way much anymore in our society. But, that’s also our choice. Chautauqua still exists—they just go by different names and you have to search for them; but in virtually every town or city, people can come together, being willing to open their hearts and be in community, to have their Souls touched by other Souls.

To get ourselves, our separate and partisan, tribalistic selves, collectively back to a time and place where we value Chautauqua could be a way to bring about a sense of unity, relationship, and shared purpose. The people in each of the rooms of the concert hall and Great Hall had one thing for sure in common—they valued time in such a way, that that time of coming together, in the evenings on a Sunday and Monday, was important. Those audiences were my kind of peeps—soulful humans yearning for connection through the presence and words of wise people who had something to say about what it means to be human, and could say it very well indeed.

We’ve already secured our tickets for our next Chautauqua-like experience: an evening with the multi-talented actor, singer, and social critic Mandy Patinkin (“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”¹ THAT Mandy Patinkin!). We go to these experiences with intention—to grow ourselves, to grow together, to be in the presence of soul and wisdom, and to be a part of an experience with the community that transcends partisan rhetoric. A form of escapism, for sure. But escapism at its finest. If we are serious about the experience, and we are, we should be changed after each encounter with the mystery that is Chautauqua.

And we are always changed.

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Live, Laugh, and Love—with Clear Eyes and Full Hearts,

Always and Ubuntu,

~ kert

And with Ahimsa!

🙏🏼

1. Patinkin’s famous lines from the movie “The Princess Bride.” Did you recognize them before you peeked here?