A Lecture Series to Lift your Spirits

By Alice Trimmer

Although today’s cultural scene offers an enormous variety of options to choose from, people sometimes become discouraged that so much of today’s artistic output seems nihilistic and demeaning to the human person. It is encouraging to realize that there are groups of smart and articulate people working on this very situation. In New York City, the Catholic Artists Society was formed in response to Pope Benedict XVI’s 2009 Address to Artists. On that occasion, the Holy Father called for artists to be “custodians of Beauty” and “heralds and witnesses of Hope for Humanity.” The CAC offers support for artists, media professionals, and those interested in the arts. In the few years since it has started, this new organization has seen an enormous and enthusiastic response from those working in the arts. This fall, they are sponsoring a lecture series on the theme “The Art of the Beautiful.” The lectures are co-sponsored by the Thomistic Institute and are held at the Catholic Center at New York University.

The September speaker was Gregory Wolfe, editor of Image Journal. Starting with a discussion of the 32,000-year-old Chavaux cave paintings, he treated the audience to a tour of key examples from art history that show how the pursuit of beauty is its own pathway to knowledge. In October, Fr. Peter John Cameron, OP, editor of Magnificat, spoke on “The Responsibility of the Artist.” Using examples from recent plays, Fr. Cameron, a playwright and drama critic, showed how true art is essentially moral and sane. Even though there is a loss of a sense of humanity in much contemporary work, at the bottom is a hunger for the infinite and a hidden nostalgia for God. Each of the lectures was followed by a very lively question and answer session, and a networking reception where everyone had an opportunity to meet the large crowd of artists, musicians, actors, and writers who were in the audience. 

These lectures, which take place once a month through February 2014, are open to the public.  No tickets are required, but it is advisable to arrive early as the room fills up well before the starting time of 7:30 pm. There is no admission charge, but donations are appreciated.  

For more information and dates of the remaining lectures, visit the CAC website at:
www.catholicartistssociety.org.  Audio files of the September and October lectures are also available on the website.

From Clean to Serene

By Virginia Boles

This August, I began teaching at a school in Manhattan. I was working in the faculty lounge (a fairly small space where a lot of supplies are stored), and one of the other teachers mentioned, “Wow, they did a great job organizing this room! You should have seen it last year.” I was struck by how much the clean, orderly, cared-for space was appreciated by my co-workers. Now I’ve been there for a couple of months, and slowly but surely, the faculty lounge has begun to suffer the “tragedy of the commons.” From my co-worker’s comment at the beginning of the school year, I realized how much serenity an orderly, clean workspace can give. So, I’ve tried to do my part to keep the faculty room clean. It can be small things like changing the water cooler bottle when it runs out, emptying the trash can or putting in a new liner, throwing away the little shreds of paper left by the paper cutter, throwing away an empty cup left on a desk. These small details, which don’t take much time, make a huge difference after a while in keeping an area clean. It’s something that no one will notice if it’s taken care of, but that everyone will notice if it’s not taken care of. So with only a little bit of extra effort on our part, we can bring more serenity to our workplace, and help people be happier while they work.

Do you have an experience you would like to share about changing the culture in your workplace? Email us at info@murrayhillinstitute.org

Ngozi Agbim, 1939-2013

By Alice Trimmer

Ngozi Agbim was a dear friend and colleague whose life was suddenly and tragically cut short by a traffic accident one terrible day last June. Ngozi’s life and career embodied many of the ideals of the Murray Hill Institute. Ngozi was a librarian by profession and for many years was the head of the library at LaGuardia Community College. The library is at the heart of any educational institution, and under Ngozi’s leadership, the library at LaGuardia became known throughout the vast City University system for its outstanding service. While maintaining a distinguished career and busy family life as wife and mother of three, Ngozi always made time to befriend a wide variety of women from all walks of life. In addition, she and her husband Silas would periodically leave their home in Brooklyn to pay their families a visit in their beloved Nigeria. One of those visits gave rise to a project that stretched over several years—what we came to call “The Enugu Book Project.”

The project had its roots in the late 1990s, when Ngozi visited Enugu, a city near her hometown in Nigeria. She saw that the resources for education in that city were very poor; schools were in disrepair and the children had no books. At the same time, there were several universities and a medical school in the area. She visited Uzammiri Study Center, which was a gathering place for students to come to study, and realized that they had no books or other resources. When she got back to New York, Ngozi marshaled a group of her friends and colleagues to help. Under Ngozi’s leadership, the group formulated a project to seek donations of books and bring them over to Africa to set up a lending library in this center for the use of the students and other people of the community. Working in partnership with Service Brings Smiles, an initiative that organizes service projects for young people, the plan was to bring college students to Enugu to spend time repairing a local school as well as setting up the library and possibly a computer lab as well.  But then the September 11 attack on the World Trade Center took place, and everything changed.  In the post-attack atmosphere, it was no longer deemed wise to travel, especially with young students.

So Ngozi and her New York friends revised the plan: the team would catalog all the books donated and send them over as a completed library. Soon the books came pouring in. Ngozi and her family had some empty space on the first floor of their house. Half of the floor was devoted to Silas’ office. The other half became the staging area for the project. Nearly every Saturday afternoon, Ngozi would invite her friends and colleagues over to work on the books. There were all sorts of books—textbooks, books of history and literature, novels, how-to books. The team would quickly review and sort them, setting aside for discard those that were not suitable for the library because of content or poor condition, and passing the others to Ngozi. Ngozi would catalog them, using an online service that would return the completed sets of cards by mail.  When the cards came back, they were placed in the books and filed in the card catalog; Ngozi had acquired an old-fashioned wooden card catalog for this purpose. The completed books were packed in boxes and the boxes taped shut. This was a multi-step process that went on for years.  All in all, about 1,500 books were boxed up for shipment, finally finishing in early 2006.

As the project was winding down, the challenge of finding an affordable and secure way to ship the books had to be confronted. Finally, with the help of friends in Nigeria, the books were safely delivered. But the card catalog went missing for quite awhile, until it was finally located in a warehouse. Sarah Berlinghieri Krawczyk recalls that Ngozi was there to witness the grand “reveal.” “As they opened each box, they poured over the books, looking in them and reading them, as a hungry person looking at a gourmet meal presented to him! They were so grateful!   They were so awed and excited that Ngozi had to keep bringing them back to the task at hand—getting the books on the shelves and setting up the library!”

The Enugu project is remembered fondly by all those who participated. The book afternoons were incredible, a unique kind of experience for many. They had the atmosphere of an old-fashioned quilting bee, the rooms filled with the joy of shared work and conversation. The volunteers came from all over—women who Ngozi had met at professional and cultural gatherings, her fellow librarians, people she met in her parish. Ngozi had a gentle way of asking for help that rendered it unthinkable to say “No,” and her example inspired everyone to invite their own friends and family to help. The variety of professions and backgrounds among the group made for lively conversation as we shared workplace and other life experiences, opinions, and free advice. The afternoons always ended laughing and talking while sharing an evening meal in Ngozi and Silas’ dining room. The commitment of the group was impressive, in light of how many years it went on, and also considering that the trek to Brooklyn was lengthy for many. Some people came only a few times, some came very consistently, but all left energized by the friendly atmosphere and by working towards a common goal that would benefit an entire community.

Around the same time that the Enugu project was winding down, Ngozi retired from LaGuardia.  Far from just taking it easy, she put her energies in co-founding the US branch of the Harambee Foundation, a global initiative that “Helps Africans Help Themselves.” Harambee USA partners with African-based organizations to support educational and developmental initiatives. State-side, the organization seeks to educate people to recognize the richness and complexity of African culture. At its international meeting in Rome in October, the Harambee Foundation launched the “Ngozi award” to honor Ngozi’s memory. The award will recognize the work of “a professional journalist who has distinguished themselves in spreading an image of African that goes beyond existing stereotypes.”

A leader in her profession, a creative and energetic supporter of her homeland, and a loyal and generous friend, Ngozi showed us by her example how it is truly possible for one person to be an impetus to bring good to many.

Working Towards Unity

By Teresa Carale

John Thorton, the cotton mill owner in Elizabeth Gaskell’s classic novel North and South, had a tempestuous relationship with Nicholas Higgins, an industrial worker and union leader. But they were both courageous, honorable men who confronted their conflict, a conflict that resulted in a crippling strike that meant greater poverty for Higgins and bankruptcy for Thornton. They developed a deep friendship, each learning from the other, respecting and trusting the other. Each was a leader in his own respective “class.”

As we survey the world we live in, we long for leaders like Thornton and Higgins, leaders who are agents of unity. From a purely anthropological standpoint, unity is superior to conflict; rather than avoiding conflict, we need to confront it in an effort to resolve and move beyond it, to make it a link in a chain, as part of a progress towards unity (Pope Francis, Lumen Fidei, n. 55). These words are worthy of reflection—we need to confront conflict in an effort to resolve it and thus achieve unity.

There are conflicts that have existed for centuries and which flare up at different times in history. In many instances, these conflicts were never properly confronted since they were often resolved through violence. The "resolution" did not address the root of the conflict, i.e. the victor in the confrontation dictated the terms of the resolution.

We often have the tendency to run away from disagreements to "avoid confrontation."  We may think we lack the skills or confidence to have a reasonable discussion, or we fear that the opposing party might lack those skills. Sometimes one is afraid of not being able to keep one's emotions in check as well. Despite all of these fears and misgivings, we need the courage to confront conflict, to seek and address the root cause of the conflict, to seek solutions that make unity possible.

Towards the end of the novel, after his cotton mill was closed, Thornton was speaking with a rising member of parliament at a dinner party. He openly acknowledged that he was unsuccessful in business and was seeking an employer that would allow him to continue his “experiment”—where “master” and “laborer” are brought together into actual personal contact, so that they are more aware of what each side is doing, resulting in greater understanding. His leadership was not a result of his owning a mill. He remained a leader despite his apparent financial ruin. His leadership came from within. His vision of the world had changed: he had become an agent of unity.