Rest in Power, Sr. Joanne

Saying the final goodbye is always a difficult thing. Funerals are never easy. But as difficult as they are they give us a moment of closure, a moment to reflect, a moment to listen to the life of the loved one. Being away in Peru and unable to attend Sr. Joanne McGovern's funeral today, I have to make my own moment. Otherwise her death could pass without my noticing and I could miss some of the messages that she has sent me throughout the years. So I will take my moment here to find closure, to reflect, to listen to the life of Sr. Joanne.

"Well done my good and faithful servant." Matthew 25:21

I don't remember the first time I met Sr. Joanne McGovern, but then again I don't remember anything from my first year of life. She and Sr. Mary Hart, the Sisters of the Good Shepherd, have always been a part of my life. When I was young they used to pull me out of the pew during mass to help carry the offertory gifts up the aisle to the altar. Then one summer when I was a teen, Sr. Joanne was sick and Sr. Mary was busy being her “support person.”* I started organizing the children for the offertory. When the Sisters of the Good Shepherd came back to church, I expected them to step back into their role. Instead they sat comfortably in their seats and left me to keep organizing the children. They pushed me into leadership from a young age.

Our parents used to take us out for dinner to celebrate our report cards. We got to choose the restaurant. Nora and I often chose Doyle's for the chicken fingers, but we also knew that there was always a chance of seeing Sr. Joanne and Sr. Mary at Doyle's on a Friday night. And if we saw them, they'd always slip us a few dollars as congratulations on our grades. They were always encouraging us.

When I was 14 Sr. Mary told me I was working at the Summer Camp. It wasn't a choice, it was expected of me. I worked there every summer for the next 7 years and loved it. As Sr. Mary's health failed, she stepped back and encouraged Mrs. Grayson to lead things. Then Sr. Mary died. It was then that I really began to work with Sr. Joanne.

Sr. Joanne stepped up out of retirement to ensure the future of the newly renamed Sr. Mary Hart Children's Program. She used her network of connections that she had built up over the years to find continued funding and to create a board to oversee the program. During this transition period, Sr. Joanne pushed me without my even realizing it. She pulled me into the grant-writing process for several grants. Writing grants was out of my experience, but how could I say no to Sr. Joanne? I researched, I learned, I wrote my part (others wrote other parts), and we got the grants. Sr. Joanne had my applying a skill I didn't know I had.

After the board was in place, Sr. Joanne set about her next task, finding a new executive director of the program. She knew something that I didn't; she knew that she was dying. Sr. Joanne believed in the program her community-mate had started and wanted it to live beyond both of them. Just as Sr. Mary had when she passed the reigns to Mrs. Grayson, Sr. Joanne demonstrated a commitment to community leadership when she picked Ms. Juliet.

Sr. Joanne got me to agree to be the transition team. Suddenly I found myself skipping classes at Brandeis to go downtown and find funding for field trips. There were various organizations (e.g. the Zoo, Museum of Science, B.U. Dance) offering trips and workshops. I was given a spending limit and an hour to visit the various booths and pay for trips. The spending limit wasn't enough to pay for everything that the Summer Camp usually offers. But when people heard I was representing Sr. Joanne, they let that slide. People who knew Sr. Joanne loved her and wanted to support her in any way they could. I boarded the train back to Brandeis marveling at how lucky the childre were to have Sr. Joanne on their side.

“These kids are the nicest, smartest, most well-behaved kids,” Sr. Joanne always said, (Mrs. Grayson was usually somewhere in the background wearing a doubtful face born from her years with of working with them). “I mean that, Ben, I really do.” I believe she did mean that. I worked with those children for 7 years, and while I saw so much beauty in them, I also had to put too many of them on the wall to ever say they're the “nicest, smartest, most well-behaved kids” with a straight face. I tend to agree with Mrs. Grayson's more pragmatic way of looking at the children. But Sr. Joanne saw a blindingly beautiful light in each child. I don't think she was calling them “the nicest, smartest, most well-behaved kids” out of ignorance, I think she saw something deep inside them that I couldn't. I think she saw God. Sr. Mary used to say that her gift was to see other people's gifts. Sr. Joanne's gift was seeing God in others.

Sr. Joanne and Sr. Mary always told us we could be whoever we wanted to be. Not only did they tell us, they showed us. Sr. Mary's style was fierce and expecting. Sr. Joanne's style was warm and affirming. Khadija and I used to joke that it was dangerous to spend too much time with Sr. Joanne because she'd swell your ego if you weren't careful. She saw the image of God so clearly in others that she couldn't help but bubble over with nice things to say. But she wasn't just nice and affirming, she was clever. Sr. Mary pushed me to grow towards manhood during my adolescence as I grew into myself at the Summer Camp. Sr. Joanne pushed me to bring that process to completion in the work she had me do over the past four years. I would not be the Benjamin I am if it weren't for the guidance, care, affirmation, and challenge that the Sisters of the Good Shepherd brought into my life. The 1-2 punch they brought to my development has left an indelible mark on my being. I am forever grateful to them, and I miss them dearly.

The greatest sorrow for me in Sr. Joanne's death is realizing that there are no more Sisters of the Good Shepherd in my life to kick my ass into gear. The greatest comfort is knowing that they taught me enough to be the man they saw inside me when they first held me 23 years ago. Thank you, Sr. Mary. Thank you, Sr. Joanne.

Now, Sr. Joanne, hurry up and get through the gates. Sr. Mary told me she saved a seat at the buffet, but she's getting tired of waiting and the food's getting cold. If you don't hurry up, she'll probably eat it for you.

*Anyone else remember Sr. Mary's story about going to the hospital and having to tell the staff “I'm the support person. She's the sick one.”