Reflections Following the Knoxville Shootings: I've Never Been So Proud
July 29, 2008
Annette Marquis is the District Executive of the Thomas Jefferson District (TJD) of the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA). A social worker who was one of the first UU volunteers to go to the Gulf Coast region following Hurricane Katrina, Marquis has been in Knoxville to provide comfort and guidance in the aftermath of Sunday’s shooting.
Here, she shares the pride she feels in the Knoxville and Unitarian Universalist communities as they unite following the tragedy.
I have never been so proud of being a Unitarian Universalist (UU) as I was yesterday in Knoxville. It started when thirty or so people, some from the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church (TVUUC), some from the Westside Unitarian Universalist Church (WUUC), some from the Red Cross, some from the local mental health agency, some from our own UU Trauma Response Team, several local UU ministers, and Sue Sinnamon and I from the TJ District staff, gathered together to plan the day, or should I say, the day after. The meeting was chaotic, disjointed, and disorganized—yet our task was clear. What needed to be done on this day and in the immediate days to follow to begin the healing process in the wake of Sunday’s devastating tragedy?
After only a few minutes, one subgroup broke off and began planning the critical incident stress debriefing sessions that would be held from 5 to 7 p.m. that evening, sessions that were age and situation-appropriate: those who witnessed the attack and those who did not, those from TVUUC, those from Westside, children and adults who had been in the cast of "Annie, Jr." (the program being presented at the church when the attacks occurred), pre-schoolers, first and second-graders, second and third graders, and on and on. Another group created a master list of all the decisions, all the tasks, all the work that needed to be done this week, from getting the damaged pews out of the sanctuary and into storage to planning the vigil that was happening that night, to imagining a re-dedication of the sacred space that is the TVUUC building.
Within a couple short hours, amidst all the heavy hearts in the TVUUC building that day, a plan to start the healing process was born.
My growing sense of pride resurfaced again as I sat with the Reverend Rosemary Bray-McNatt from UU Trauma Response Ministry and TVUUC member Bill Dockery as they mentored newly-elected TVUUC president Ted Jones and immediate past-president Jane Raparelli in how to handle the relentless media demands that were coming into the congregation. With phone consultation from several UUA staff members, a plan to respond appropriately and comfortably to the media was born.
By late afternoon, I watched as UUA President Bill Sinkford—who had arrived only moments before—and TVUUC President, Ted Jones went to speak to the multiple media representatives. Bill and Ted together couldn’t have represented Unitarian Universalism any better than they did standing on the front lawn, speaking over rush-hour traffic, and talking about who we are as people who accept all who come to us—not leaving anyone out, even someone who eventually might come back to inflict such deep pain on all of us. I didn’t believe I could ever be more proud of our faith.
I made my way up the hill to Second Presbyterian Church, a congregation literally right next door to TVUUC, a congregation that provided blessed refuge for our children on Sunday morning, a congregation that generously offered to host our debriefing sessions and our public vigil that night. When I arrived at the church, the debriefing sessions were underway but already people had begun to arrive for the vigil. By the time the debriefing sessions were over, the building was already filled to overflowing. As the skies opened up with a torrential downpour of rain, people from TVUUC, WUUF, the new UU satellite congregation in Blount County, Second Presbyterian, people from synagogues, from mosques, from area Christian churches, and others from all over the Knoxville region scrambled to get in from every open door in this large church complex.
Starting the service with an emotional rendition of Spirit of Life, Rev. Chris Buice, minister of TVUUC, gave the opening words and identified the “power in this room.” “The presence of so many people from so many faith traditions being here for our church means so much to us," he said. Rev. Bill Sinkford helped those gathered try to accept that it was not possible to make sense of such a senseless act but that by owning our feelings of angry, grief, hurt, helplessness, and pain, we could work through this together. His clarity about how the strong social justice tradition of TVUUC will not let it retreat in the wake of this tragedy brought tears to my eyes. He said, "None of us can allow our pain and anger to keep us from living our faith, from welcoming all people, from standing on the side of love. We will not let that happen. We will continue our commitment to welcoming all people."
Rev. Rosemary Bray-McNatt, present as a representative of the UU Trauma Response Ministry, led the congregation in a silent candlelight meditation. As the darkened room brightened with the hundreds of lit candles, she reminded us that we are "but one small light, but when joined together with others, our light will shine forth." Rev. Mitra Jafarzedeh, minister of Westside UU Fellowship, closed the service by reminding us that this was not a closing but a beginning. “Go forth in light,” she said, “be daring and audacious enough to have hope. Let nothing silence us.”
Mitra Jafarzadeh was right: we are just beginning. During the pre-service debriefing session held with the cast of the play that was being performed at the Sunday service, the cast members asked for the opportunity to bring some closure to the months of work they had put into this performance.
And as Mitra finished her speaking, the cast stepped forward at the front of the sanctuary and began singing the well-known theme song from the play, Tomorrow. The congregation spontaneously joined in singing with them and after a few seconds—when the impact of this moment sunk in—the crowd erupted into applause, tears, shouts, cheers, and many more tears.
The cast—these beautiful children who had been exposed to so much horror—had finally had a chance to offer their grande finale. They took their long-awaited bows to an adoring, grief-stricken, audience.
For those of you who don’t remember all of the words of Tomorrow*, let me share them with you here:
The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There'll be sun!Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
'Til there's none!
When I'm stuck a day
That's gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin,
And Say,
Oh!
The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
'Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always
A day
A way!
As the music faded, I realized that can’t think of any more appropriate song to guide us all through this dark time.
“Proud of my faith” does not even begin to describe my feelings as I stood there with hundreds of other devastated members of a large interfaith community, cheering our UU children into a brighter future. Out of this tragedy, there are already signs of hope re-emerging. Blessings on this remarkable community for their love, their support, and their ministry to one another.
*"Tomorrow"—from ANNIE
Lyric by Martin Charnin
Music by Charles Strouse
© 1977 (Renewed) EDWIN H. MORRIS & COMPANY, A
Division of MPL Music Publishing, Inc. and CHARLES
STROUSE. All Rights on behalf of CHARLES STROUSE PUBLISHING
Administered by Williamson Music. All Rights Reserved.
Last updated on Wednesday, August 20, 2008.
