I'm interested in what you call "the space of appearance." Even in church, too much space is taken up with performance by a few rather than seeing and hearing each other. Our liturgies keep us invisible too.
I'm with you. And "liturgy" means "the work of the people." I'm more familiar with working in classrooms, and it's tough, for a number of reasons (including my laziness and fear), to turn it into public space. In my last year of teaching, I practiced project-based learning under the tutelage of an excellent practitioner. It was my favorite year of teaching. It led me to think that people have to do things together--not the whole time, of course--to create effective public space. I recently read Barry Morley's Pendle Hill pamphlet on the "sense of the meeting," where I learned that Quakers (when, in Morley's opinion, friends are doing it right) understand their business meetings as other denominations understand communion. It blew my mind. (On Arendt's "space of appearance," there's chapter 28 of The Human Condition, "Power and the Space of Appearance.)
I was struck by how you frame poverty as erasure rather than shortage. Your reading of the photograph makes the point without appealing to motive or excuse. From Memphis to Paul, James, Adams, Arendt, Aristotle, and Ecclesiastes, you trace a single argument across time: shame removes people from common life. The thread holds because you keep attention on appearance, voice, and presence. The closing turn toward shared disappearance comes through, leaving a question about what it would mean to appear with others rather than act for them. - Thanks again, Bryce!
Thank you, William. I'm particularly glad that the photograph references worked. I didn't want them to cross the line into guilt or blame. I also didn't want to trivialize the incident in an attempt to avoid taking on guilt or assigning blame. And this insightful, lucid comment helped me understand that my ending, though something of a leap, landed: ". . . leaving a question about what it would mean to appear with others rather than act for them." I couldn't have put it--in fact, I didn't put it--better! I appreciate it very much.
I'm interested in what you call "the space of appearance." Even in church, too much space is taken up with performance by a few rather than seeing and hearing each other. Our liturgies keep us invisible too.
I'm with you. And "liturgy" means "the work of the people." I'm more familiar with working in classrooms, and it's tough, for a number of reasons (including my laziness and fear), to turn it into public space. In my last year of teaching, I practiced project-based learning under the tutelage of an excellent practitioner. It was my favorite year of teaching. It led me to think that people have to do things together--not the whole time, of course--to create effective public space. I recently read Barry Morley's Pendle Hill pamphlet on the "sense of the meeting," where I learned that Quakers (when, in Morley's opinion, friends are doing it right) understand their business meetings as other denominations understand communion. It blew my mind. (On Arendt's "space of appearance," there's chapter 28 of The Human Condition, "Power and the Space of Appearance.)
I was struck by how you frame poverty as erasure rather than shortage. Your reading of the photograph makes the point without appealing to motive or excuse. From Memphis to Paul, James, Adams, Arendt, Aristotle, and Ecclesiastes, you trace a single argument across time: shame removes people from common life. The thread holds because you keep attention on appearance, voice, and presence. The closing turn toward shared disappearance comes through, leaving a question about what it would mean to appear with others rather than act for them. - Thanks again, Bryce!
Thank you, William. I'm particularly glad that the photograph references worked. I didn't want them to cross the line into guilt or blame. I also didn't want to trivialize the incident in an attempt to avoid taking on guilt or assigning blame. And this insightful, lucid comment helped me understand that my ending, though something of a leap, landed: ". . . leaving a question about what it would mean to appear with others rather than act for them." I couldn't have put it--in fact, I didn't put it--better! I appreciate it very much.