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  • 0 read more The Possibility of Positive Marginality: Warren Rohrer’s Mennonite Community of Origin

    The Possibility of Positive Marginality: Warren Rohrer’s Mennonite Community of Origin

    by Steven M Nolt

    “There is this beauty which comes out of all these experiences that one has,” Warren Rohrer decided. It was a remarkable assertion, given its context. A number of Mennonite-reared artists and thinkers had come together in spring 1993 to discuss sources of creativity, and in the process shared story after story of misunderstanding and rejection by their childhood church communities. Listening to their accounts, therapist Lois Frey, who had convened the discussion, recognized the obvious pain in these narratives of being relegated to the margins. But she also wondered if there might be some “positive marginality,” some special ...

  • 0 read more Making Believe: Reflections

    Making Believe: Reflections

    by Magdalene Redekop

    This seminal new book--part intellectual autobiography, part theoretical exploration--probes issues of representation in Mennonite literture and art.

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    Chronology for the Life and Work of Nicholas Lindsay

    by Lindsay Family

    The chronology below was constructed at the request of Ervin Beck for this issue. No chronology of Papa’s life existed prior to this. The nine remaining Lindsay siblings searched for press and correspondence relating to Papa’s work as an artist and historian. His careers in building and the trades were included because his work there was central to his personae as an artist. We used documents to create a factual framework for this chronology We believe this chronology to be largely accurate. Our parents were grateful for the community they found through Goshen College. In the year or two prior ...

  • 0 read more A Tribute to Nick Lindsay

    A Tribute to Nick Lindsay

    by Ervin Beck

    Nick Lindsay arrived at Goshen College in an almost accidental way. In the spring of 1969 the Lecture-Music program found itself with a small surplus and, as was sometimes the custom, decided to sponsor a bonus program late in the spring. Nick Lindsay was the choice. He had been recommended by Helen Clay, a Goshen friend of the college whose son was studying at Indiana University Bloomington, had attended a performance by Nick and thought he would be a good “fit” for Goshen College.

    Nick was the son of Vachel Lindsay (1879-1931), prominent American performance poet, and was a performance ...

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    Letter from DuBose Lindsay (1997) to Ann Hostetler

    by DuBose Lindsay

    DuBose’s letter came out of a lively correspondence with Nick that began back in August 1997. I was still living in Wisconsin and in the early stages of researching poetry by Mennonite writers. In preparation for the upcoming Mennonite/s Writing Conference to be held at Goshen College that October, I had asked Nick whether, in addition to sending me some samples of his poetry, he might consider submitting an essay on the topic of what it was like to teach poetry at a Mennonite institution of higher learning. He responded positively to the challenge, but the generous packet of ...

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    Letter from Nick Lindsay (2018) to Ervin Beck

    by Nick Lindsay

    Following the death of Nick’s wife DuBose in 2018, he and I exchanged a series of about six letters. I had suggested that he write his autobiography, or at least prepare a chronology of his life and work. I expected something linear, but he included in his letters bits and bobs of his life experience, usually in anecdotes with clear moral or spiritual meanings. The letters were always written in his non-cursive handwriting and were sprinkled with drawings, quotations from songs and, always, with upbeat comments.—Ervin Beck

    3 Slash Court
    Statesboro, GA
    30458
    Wed., Aug. 1, 2018

    Dear Ervin ...

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    Meditation for Memorial Service

    by Nick Lindsay, Jr.

    The time my father liked to talk about most in recent years has been the time he worked building commercial fishing boats on Edisto Island in the 1970s and 80's. I was a teenager then and I believed I knew him best at that time. He taught me to sail. Working or playing, our lives usually related to the ocean. On the water things are simpler than on land. He was joyful on the water.

    As he died, my sister Nancy was reading to him from The Odyssey. On the water he would use the words of Homer to ...

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    Tributes by Students and Colleagues

    by Tribute Authors Lindsay

    Skip Barnett, Wilbur Birky, Todd Davis, Julia Friesen, Lauren Friesen, Jeff Gundy, Dennis Huffman, Bob Johnson, Julia Spicher Kasdorf, Harley King, Jessica Lapp, John Leigh, Susan Fisher Miller, Lenae Nofziger, Jeffrey S. Peachey, Sofia Samatar, Mark Sawin, David Waltner-Toews, Shari Miller Wagner, Don Yost, Dawn Zehr. Click on page numbers below, or "show as all" for access.

    by Skip Barnett (Faculty 1988-2018)

    Emeritus Professor of English and ESL, Goshen College
    Goshen, Indiana

    A Visit from Saint Nick

    Quiet snows flutter
    Mercury crouches
    A slanting sun spares us no hours
    The last tinseled trees lie low on the curb . . .
    But then ...

  • 0 read more Introduction to "Student Writing"

    Introduction to "Student Writing"

    by Elizabeth Reimer

    Adults often ask me how college is going. As an introvert and awkward conversationalist, my answers are usually rather short. I mention a class I enjoy, say that I get along with my roommate, and remind them of my majors. I nod politely and smile. In most cases, we switch to another topic quickly. Winter break, which recently ended, is a prime time for such conversations.

    Of course, my simple, routine responses do not come close to describing what college is like. College is a mess of stories and experiences. I’ve only been here for three semesters, and already I ...

  • 0 read more Home

    Home

    by Anali Martin

    I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I wanna go home.

    A mantra I say to myself when I feel past the point of dejection. We’ve reached full “hell no” territory. Weight hunches my shoulders and slows my feet down to a plodding walk and keeps my body anchored to my bed. When tears constantly threaten to fall, when even a good hug doesn’t feel like it could fix my frustration, when I can’t hold my head up in class, when I feel empty and cold.

    Home for me isn’t necessarily one place. When I say, “I just ...