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Legacies
(An Ode to My Grandmother)
My grandmother passed away this last week. She was 98 and had been living in a nursing home for the last many years. It was unfortunately her time. Her death has reminded me of old memories and haunted me with stories past in my family and life in Missouri.

I’ve been thinking a great deal about what kind of impact we make in the world. Her passing reminds me that perhaps we make a greater impact upon all around us than we sometimes think. Often it’s easy to think that we are alone in the world and no one is really paying attention. Often it’s easy to pretend we live in isolation from the rest of the world. Often it’s easy to not notice the impact we each have upon the world in our own way.

Her life was about her family and her faith. And her legacy will live on with the continued vibrancy of that family and faith. Hers are spread all over the country, all over the world; living separate lives, but connected by blood and bonds of old. That history and connection is still there whether paid attention to or not. And her legacy continues in bringing us all back together once again as a family for her passing.

But what is our own legacy? Do we know or care about what we leave behind? Do we leave traces and legacies of our own?

I think of this because of another thing that happened this month that made me cry.

Several weeks ago I received an email from some friends who have a shared Kansas City history along with me. They mentioned that my alma mater, UMKC, had just been listed as one of the top 100 colleges in the country for LGBT students. I looked at the article in the Kansas City Star and I sat stunned to disbelief.

And then a wave of emotion overtook me and I wept for several minutes into my hands.

You see, in 1990, when I attended UMKC, there was nothing for LGBT students. Nothing. And I felt scared and alone and did not know what to do upon Coming Out. Eventually I formed a new student group called the Gay & Lesbian Student Alliance. In doing so, I learned that there had actually been a U.S. Supreme Court case back in the late 1970’s that said that a then-LGBT student group could form at UMKC and that landmark case gave birth to the LGBT college student groups around the country. That 70’s group lived a short life and then passed away.

In 1990, I began that new student group that continued the legacy of LGBT awareness at UMKC. I was just one person and our group had its ups and downs over the years, but eventually, today, there is a vibrant group on campus and a full-fledged LGBT campus office and coordinator of programs and services. My own legacy, and the legacy of those LGBT students at UMKC in the 70’s, have greatly impacted the lives of all those around them—students, faculty, staff, the greater community, and beyond—even if we may not have realized the full impact we were having.

It may seem strange to bring the story of my grandmother’s death together with the UMKC LGBT history, but both issues came together this month to illustrate a point to me. We are larger than we may think we are. Our legacy continues on, even when we may not realize it. And that legacy can have a real and lasting positive impact on the world.

Robert Kennedy once said, “It is from a numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring these ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

We are all ripples that create legacies. We can choose to be a ripple of hope and courage and love and peace, or we can choose differently. When we serve together as ripples of change for a better world, and stronger ideals, and finding commonalities and support, and love among our families and peoples, we create a legacy that rushes forth and can strengthen our lives and those around us, currently and in generations to come.

The impact of my grandmother’s life, and that of my former small student group, is still felt even after their passing. We each have the power to make a current and lasting change in the world. Let us resolve to continue to do so for the good of all that is and that will be.