Author: cmcleod2

As I have progressed through this class, the term “legacy” has been at the forefront of my mind. Vinen, who we began and ended the class with, wrote an entire book on the events of the year 1968, and even referred to the year itself as “The Thing” in many places. Vinen’s work, which explores mainly the historical and social background of the year, serves as a memoir in many ways. Furthermore, groups such as the Catonsville Nine and the Chicago Eight, and the members of each who chronicled their stories in each of their plays, clearly had a view of the future and how history would look at them. After all, we are reading and commenting on them today. However, the behavior of these groups makes clear that they do not care about what the court thinks about their actions and beliefs. The Catonsville Nine and Chicago Eight saw that their platform and circumstance was so much more than a single individual, and the potential to create a narrative which would immortalize their group. Their vision of their legacy was critical in their decision making.

We have already spoken at length about the striking similarities between 1969 and 2020, but I can’t help but wonder what the legacy of 2020 will be. Will historians such as Vinen refer to this year as “The Thing,” or even something more mysterious? Will plays be made from immortalized court transcripts from this year as in the case of the Chicago Eight and Catonsville Nine? Will literary critics 50 years from now view this year with the same reverence as the critics of the current time view 1969? Currently, the answers to these questions are hazy at best. However, the fact that we have found so many striking similarities between 1969 and 2020 should be telling. I believe that, 30 or 40 years from now, similar things will be said about 2020. Furthermore, based on the seeming 50 year cycle of these cataclysmic years, it is entirely possible that our generation will see another one. In 50 years, we just might be drawing comparisons between 2020 and 2070. I look forward to seeing how this year will be treated by history and literature as time marches on.

You don’t see a lot of “Catholic” protests, that is, a protest that is remembered by history as specifically Catholic. But, in the scope of 1969, the Catonsville Nine, though still incredibly important, were just another protest, if they can be referred to in that way. What really strikes me about the Catonsville Nine is the connections that they have to other Catholic movements in recent times with similar motives and ideals.

In one of my political science classes, I learned about the idea of “liberation theology,” which is a form of radical Catholicism pioneered by a handful of Catholic priests in the later 1900s. Liberation theology is radical in that it presents the life of Christ as not the gold standard of Christianity, but the only standard: the poverty, the persecution, the love of others. According to these priests, this was the true way of Catholicism, because it followed the radical teachings of Christ to the letter, and took precepts such as helping the poor to the most extreme level possible. But, similar to the ideals of the Catonsville Nine, the idea of liberation theology has seen some pushback among both the laity and Church authorities, though it is now highly touted by Pope Francis.

In his time in the trial, Father Philip Berrigan called out both the United States government and the bishops of the United States, who he called out for being “cowards” and insisting that they “learn something of the Gospels.” Many people believe the Church is or must be a fully cohesive, unified organization, but the Catonsville Nine saw a problem within the Church and their country and addressed it, despite what their superiors might have believed. That sort of commitment to justice, along with that proposed by the creators of liberation theology, is precisely what is required of Catholics, even though certain individuals in the Church may have disagreed.

Recently, I have been taken aback by our guest speakers with direct experiences of revolutionary Ireland. Eamon McCann and Geoff Brown in particular showed a youthful exuberance and tenacity that I did not expect. I expected a drawn-out historical narrative told by a few tired old men, but to them, their movement was still happening, and they showed such a passion and exuberance for their beliefs and past actions that I was genuinely surprised.

In War and an Irish Town, McCann documents many violent events and their surrounding circumstances. What struck me the most about this writing, however, occurs in the dedication of the writing. McCann lists over 50 people who were presumably killed in the events which he spoke about in the reading. It is a very somber reading accompanied by a very somber dedication, which led me to think that McCann’s presentation would be equally sullen.

I was surprised by his excitement and energy. This was not a man broken by past experiences or loss, though it was clear that they weighed heavily on his mind. McCann was the embodiment of a man who was dedicated to Irish freedom and peace, even to the present day, in which he remains a devout socialist. His demeanor compared with the material of the text showed him as a very strong and committed person.

Among Dr. King’s many remarkable attributes and accomplishments, his consistently non-violent attitude will always stand out to me as the most wondrous. As a Christian minister, to preach the importance of nonviolence is practically required, but how often do Christians hold fast to these ideals as Dr. King did? He continued to believe even when the challenge was greatest, and he persevered with his Christian ideals until the bitter end. I think that his own understanding of himself, within his own Christian context, is also critical in understanding how he maintained such an important presence.

In “I See the Promised Land,” Dr. King very clearly draws distinct parallels between himself and the Old Testament figure of Moses. As a Christian minister, he would have been intimately familiar with the story of Moses and the Promised Land of Israel, and he understood that the similarities were uncanny. Dr. King, when faced with such extreme resistance, must have realized that he may not see the day of equal rights himself. Instead, he claims, he will lead others to the treasure that he couldn’t have, and show them the way that was shown to him by God. It is important to note that Dr. King understood this parallel himself, and was so confident in it that he presented it as one of his greatest speeches. I believe that he showed great confidence by embracing that comparison as well as great foresight regarding the struggle for racial equality.

Before I started this class, I had no idea how significant the year of 1968 was for so many people in so many different places. I’ve taken a few history and classical literature classes in my life, but I had never encountered the type of attitude that has appeared in this class. From our first readings of Vinen, the year 1968 is treated almost as some mythical creature or extraterrestrial being. It is important to note that Vinen, a distinguished scholar of the time period, refers to 1968 as “The Thing.” When someone such as him calls a certain year by a name like that, the awe which people still have for it is clear. It’s almost as if he doesn’t know what else to call it. However, each of my grandparents was a young adult in that particular year, and I have never heard any of them wax poetic about that year as Vinen has. But, I am certainly looking forward to learning about why a year can constitute the stuff of legend for so many different people.