Is this a job? A hobby? Volunteer work?

In 2005, for reasons that defy rational examination, I left a tenured job in the English department at the University of Missouri. For a time after that I attempted to balance a serious bit of volunteer work (tutoring African refugees in English) with writing. Gradually it became clear that I hadn't the kind of brain that would allow me to do both well, and so I went over to writing, essentially as if it were a full-time job.

Now, like many self-publishing writers, I wonder where I am. I am selling some books--let's say about one a day on average--almost enough to buy my own lunch, though not enough to treat someone else. Allowing for the time already spent in research and writing, I suppose I might be making a dime or so an hour. This doesn't sound like a job. It might be a hobby.

On the other hand, the work serves a social purpose. Summary Justice is contributing to a reconsideration of the history race relations in Columbia, and Watching the Watchers may be having a faint influence on discussions about law enforcement and race. So maybe this is volunteer work after all, though my conscience won't allow me to say that it is as important as the ESL tutoring I did before or nearly as important as the work of many other volunteers around town.

The closest analogy I can find at this moment to what I'm doing is the non-profit organization where workers earn below-market wages, but further social causes. My wages are considerably below even "below-market" wages, but that's fine. And even if it weren't fine, I almost feel I wouldn't have any choice. At this point, it feels like a compulsion.

Brushwood 1919-1940 on Kindle

I have recently been talking with a 92-year-old Columbian named Mack Brushwood about what the town was like when he was growing up. These were the days when automobiles were novelties, electricity was available only in the downtown area, and a front porch with a battery-powered radio could attract a clutch of neighbors on a Saturday night. Mr. Brushwood is such a good talker that I decided to rework the interview material into a memoir and post it as a short Kindle book. It's nothing fancy: just a "being there" picture of the prohibition and Great Depression eras.

The Perils and Pleasures of Writing Local History

I answered the phone yesterday and got the voice of a woman who started right in. "I read your book. Liked it. I have a couple of questions. How did Regina Almstedt pronounce her name? Which house did she lived in? Are you sure she was raped? I hated your cover. You should have had a picture of the bridge. Why would you use that picture on the cover? What does it have to do with anything?" She paused for a breath, and something that resembled a normal conversation followed. She told me that she believed that she was living in the house the Almstedts lived in back in 1923. She said she would be at a talk I am giving next week, but that she didn't want me to mention that she lived in the old Almstedt place. That was between us, a secret.

No problem, since she hung up without mentioning her name.

Names, another Kindle booklet

I just posted "Names," a new Kindle booklet. It tells a story I have been researching and mulling over for several years, the miraculous escape from slavery of a young man here in Columbia in 1833. I won't spoil the story by giving away the plot, but I will say that the circumstances of Sant's winning his freedom include something that must have looked to him and to others like divine intervention. The booklet also gives what I think is a useful overview of the status of the slave under Missouri law before the horrible Dred Scott decision. 99 cents. Go ahead, make my day!

Richard J. Margolis Award

Miraculously enough, I recently got a call saying that I would be the 2010 recipient of the Richard J. Margolis prize for social justice reporting, which calls for another link:
http://award.margolis.com/

I am now officially a promising new writer at age 61. I think the custom here would be for me to say that I am grateful and humbled. Stunned, actually, is the better word.

The James Scott monument fundraiser

Sunday night was the very successful official kickoff of the fundraising compaign to place an appropriate headstone over the grave of James Scott. Hundreds attended. Lincoln University sent a choir and a string quintet. It was a remarkable evening altogether, well described in a story in the Columbia Missourian, for which I'll provide a link.

www.columbiamissourian.com/stories/2010/11/08/benefit-raises-money-james-scott-headstone/

Truth and Reconciliation in Mid-Missouri

Most readers of this blog are probably aware of some of the notable developments in Columbia, MO, as it revisits the story of the James Scott lynching. They are varied enough, however, to merit a short recap. Rev. Clyde Ruffin of the Second Baptist Church is heading a large and active committee that is raising funds to put a proper headstone on the grave of James Scott, a stone that will note on the reverse side the circumstances of his death. The monument project has been endorsed by more than a dozen significant organizations, including the Office of the Mayor, the State Historical Society, the Black Law Students Association at UMC, and the Boone County Historical Society. The fundraising effort will officially begin with a kickoff event this upcoming Sunday, November 7, at Second Baptist. It will culminate when the gravestone is placed next April, 88 years after Scott's death.

Largely because of the efforts of Scott Wilson, one member of the monument committee, Scott's death certificate has been altered in a way that shows both the original coroner's finding that his having "committed rape" was a contributory cause of death and the current coroner's finding that Scott was never convicted of rape.

In January and February, there will be programs about the Scott lynching at the Osher Lifelong Learning Center (University of Missouri), the State Historical Society, and the Columbia Public Library.

Heartening, all this. As every serious local historian learns, communities have a much heartier appetite for upbeat stories about their past than downbeat ones. But in this case, Columbia seems willing to look squarely at a terrible incident from its past—willing to undo some of the harm, if possible, and to consider what lessons can be learned.