My Dad

RONALD NEUWIRTH – tribute, 6/30/2016

Dad intensely loved life. I’m certain that was the message he would have wanted us to take away today as we remember his life.

With his soft voice and gentle manner, Dad sought out strong, life-affirming moments.

Sometimes they were about nature. I don’t think many people knew this side of him, but every time we were in Long Island, Dad would insist on going to the ocean, even if only for a few minutes. I don’t think I understood at the time, but as I’ve remembered over the last days, I appreciate that Dad really sought out awe. He would walk along the sand, looking at the powerful Atlantic waves, the wilder, the better.

He dreamed of going to the Hebrides, the lonely islands off of England. The closest we got was Nova Scotia, on a father-daughter trip for his 70^th birthday. He loved the bed and breakfasts, the quaint restaurants, the farmland, but what he was most excited about was the untamed landscapes and the whales.

He looked for excitement in New York too and he knew all the best places, from Sardi’s to the Algonquin to McSorley’s. He showed me a speakeasy once in the Village and for the life of me I can’t remember the name or the location anymore – he was certainly my ticket. 

Dad was a romantic, he was a poet. The editor of the Southampton Press was kind enough to put together some of the poetry he published in that paper for us, and my son will read one poem after this. His favorite story was J.D. Salinger’s – For Esme with Love and Squalor, about a little girl with grown up words and loving ways, who reminds me of our daughter.

He loved folk music – it hit all of his registers – words, melodies, social conscience. As a kid he used to take me to concerts all the time, and I remember finding them nice but vaguely embarrassing. When I got older, I realized of course that seeing Arlo Guthrie or Pete Seeger perform wasn’t that uncool at all.

Dad loved words – the way they were able to capture and hold still a moment, the way they sounded, their multiple meanings. By the way, that was the basis of all his jokes – the double meanings of words, and it’s not a skill he passed on to me. Last night, my son was telling joke after joke from one of my dad’s books and had to stop and explain each and every one to his mom. So maybe it has skipped a generation. Let’s hope so.

He had a lot of stories- this was one about words. When he was Business Editor at the NYU paper, he was in charge of selling advertising. In order to encourage people to look at the ads, he had a creative idea -- starting a misspelled word contest in the paper; if you found the word, you’d get a prize. Hundreds of people responded, so it was a great success, just one problem. There wasn’t just one misspelled word, there were a whole bunch of them, so it turned out not that economical - they had to give out a lot of prizes.

And of course, Dad loved what words – and stories, and games – do – which is to help us to find our way to other people. In this day of distractions, multitasking, omnipresent phones, Dad was like an antidote. He was all about making the most of those moments we have together.

It didn’t matter if Dad was with people of totally different ages, backgrounds, interests… he had an incredible ability to connect. I have spoken with many people who knew him in recent days, and I’ve been so moved to understand how much even peripheral relationships he had were meaningful and mattered. Even if he only had a few minutes with someone, those were really human moments and they helped make people’s days and also lit up his life.

Of course, I was so fortunate to have  – along with my children – his most intense love, his worry and care and dreams. One of the things I liked most was watching him watch my kids. He had that uncanny ability to just sit back and enjoy, appreciate, to feel with them, find them beautiful and funny and amazing.

I want to thank you all so much for being here. In Jewish tradition, Tikkun Olan is the gathering together of pieces of shattered holiness in an effort to repair the world. Over these last intense days, I feel like I have been so lucky to glimpse pieces of my father that reside in many of you, it has been a great comfort to collect them and to hope that they at the same time stay with you too, and in that way, though I miss him dearly, he is still here, connecting us.

Thank you – my colleagues and friends – so many people from JDC. It means so much that you are here and that I can share this with you. 

To my Dad’s friends at Habonim and CBST, to family friends, to his very dear friends and our family  – I am so grateful for your care for Dad, for the long talks, the beers, and the memories. To Rabbi Kleinbaum – Dad was so inspired by you and I am so thankful that you are with us through this time.

To Karsten, my mom, and my children – your love was sustaining for him and it is for me.

May his memory be a blessing. 

POEM
Joy Personified
No recession could erode the strong silken ocean waves,
Lovely, shining, dancing powers that be.
As we skipped securely along a still vibrant universe's edge.
My 4-year-old grandson; joy personified- (& me) along the sea.
- Ron Neuwirth, September 3, 2009, in The Southampton Press

Gratitude as apathy or activism?

A recent NYT article criticized the current focus on gratitude, taping into a concern I've had about this writing project.

Does the practice of gratitude redirect what might be productive outrage aimed at injustice in the world-- a potential positive catalyst for change -- into a self-satisfied posture aimed inward and a source of apathy?

I can see where it might. But there are a number of ways in which gratitude can be understood and play out....

I'm grateful to have enough to eat, I'm grateful to be safe, I'm grateful to enjoy good health... A grateful list like that sounds mildly distasteful, gloating, boasting even. (Can I add here - to have a beautiful new outfit, a great hairdo, trophy family....) I've really tried to avoid this posture. In fact, the blog has not documented much of my personal situation, though I am indeed grateful for it on my own personal count.

On deeper reflection, a similar grateful list might point to the delicacy of good fortune. And the recognition that it is fortune and not intention or hard work that leads in large part to the situation in which we find ourselves, can be a very philosophical moment, even a religious one. Fortune is fickle after all, and can easily change. To value what one has in the moment is to be cognizant that the winds of change may come very quickly, in fact, they most definitely will. Unlike gloating, this type of gratitude is the ultimate in humility, the recognition that we are small ourselves and our joy is fleeting. I could get very poetic on this front, but this attitude, which is deeply personal, has also not been my main intention with this Grateful blog, and it too results in a turn inward.

The gratitude that I have tried to encourage in this blog was inspired by an idea that is almost diametrically opposed.

It was a political idea - a very outward rather than a personal set of reflections: the idea that I needed to appreciate the rights and social norms that I have in order to not take them for granted, and be willing to fight for them if they are drilled back or not applied equally for all, as I see happening today.

The idea is to understand that I have cause to be grateful because of certain political realities that I need to safeguard or fight for: I have enough to eat because I was born in a country that has peace and plenty -- unlike so many; I'm grateful to be safe because we have rule of law and also because I am the child of many privileges that are not doled out equally; I'm grateful to enjoy good health and I  appreciate the fact that my employer supplements a fine health insurance plan.

And of course I had the idea that this was not just applicable to me, but much more broadly - that's why I wanted this to be a public reflection.

Finally, although this was political in nature, I didn't want it to be theoretical. I am interested in connecting emotion to activism in a thoughtful way.

My favorite holiday is the one where we remember the story of the biblical escape from Egypt - from slavery into freedom - and my favorite ritual is the Seder, when we try to re-enact that story in order to simulate the experience of attaining freedom. That's an effort, as I see it, to drill the lessons of one era into the very different realities of another, since all of us have been born into a life of freedom. The point? To create not just a theoretical but actually a visceral dislike of the application of power over others. 

I wanted to try to re-insert this visceral sense into our political discussion. I'm grateful that my income is sufficient-- how unfair to be born by no fault of one's own in a place where hunger is the norm. I'm grateful to be assumed innocent in almost all situations-- how horrendous to be subject to constant suspicion. And I'm grateful to have healthcare and the right to choice- how is it possible that this shouldn't be afforded to all when we have the means available?

We've seen a lot of outrage in politics, but it has not been tempered by a recognition of our own good fortune and personal humility and gratitude. Instead, it's a race to claim victimhood... which brings out fear and the worst in us. The idea of my gratitude blog was to inspire activism from a place of strength and appreciation.

Does that type of gratitude resonate? If you've gotten to this point, please leave a comment and let me know!

And with this in mind, I'll try to write some upcoming posts about specific issues at hand.

Why be grateful?

Why be grateful?

There's also a lot to be frustrated about, upset, even heartbroken.

Being grateful is a way of remembering all that we have nevertheless.

It's a good way to put the little things in perspective and try to get the bigger things in view.

But I don't want my Grateful blog to signify complacency either. In fact, could being grateful actually straighten our backs when things threaten those core "right" things?

I read an interesting movie review by Bilge Ebiri, a former classmate, in which he speaks about the social/political nihilism of our time. It's the phenomenon of not really thinking anything matters that much, or having given up on all. I see very few movies, but even I have recognized the theme of self-loathing and it's clearly one that resonates with our time. 

I think this blog is about trying to stand firmly FOR something.

What?

Here's a try, based on seeing the relations between themes I've chosen so far. (But I'd like help on articulating this.)

The desire for a stronger connection to the goods we enjoy (heat, water... ) - because appreciation heightens pleasure. It's a stance against being spoiled!

An interest in deeper human interactions (dance, games, no agenda conversations) to more fully connect us. A stance against commodification of relationships! 

An appreciation for real gains that our society has made (men cooking, unhindered voting, our physical security) and a vote for values of Enlightenment and democracy.