Ode To Barbara Hager, H.W.M.

In the 70s, I met a girl who decided we should be together. I wasn’t particularly attracted to her but since I was always in search of being worshiped, I was loath to turn down any opportunity that might put me up on that pedestal. I was still unsure of the relationship when an ex-partner of mine approached us to be introduced. After I made the introduction, my ex-partner made a very cruel remark about and to my new girlfriend. Barbara seemed completely unfazed, however, as she laughed. Well, the love bomb came crashing down with complete abandon. I was stunned.

I had seen mentors stand unfazed in the face of conflict, but I had never seen just one of us regular students to whom that ability was so advanced—natural, real, authentic. I became consumed with infatuation—a state (I believe) that is more God than us. As time passed, I saw this goodness expressed in her life over and over. She was a poster child for unconditional love. Any animal in her realm that needed help, she was there. It didn’t have to be hers. It was the same with people. If she had the means to help them, she was there even if it was a friend of a friend that she had never met. There were times I was in such awe of her, I was almost paralyzed.

But the ability I most admired was her willingness to be vulnerable. When someone does something to hurt us, most of us react. We fight back or lay plans to get even, etc. We go immediately to our second feeling which is usually anger, completely skipping over our initial response. But not Barbara. If someone hurt her, she would burst out crying immediately. She took the pain herself while others of us would fling it back to the originator with our own brand of sarcasm and cruelty. She was the most guileless person I ever knew. And if I were the one perpetrating some shameful remark to her that hurt, my anger was completely wiped away with her authentic response. I think it was beyond my control. Her authenticity would have that effect on anyone, I suspect. She exuded a goodness that was a magnet to those of us deeply affected by childhood events that had convinced us we were anything but good.

Most of us chose our friends according to our damages. Not Barbara. She was friends with people some would peg as being the alt right, although she was a Democrat herself. She was friends with men, women, gays, straights, young and old. And not just casual relationships.

Her first concern was and always would be “people”. She donated to several charities concerned with both animal and human rights all her life.

Barbara traveled with the USO in Viet Nam where she was deeply traumatized by an event of Viet Cong being thrown out the helicopter door.

Even her life on this earth began with trauma. Her mother, working the only job she could get as a barmaid, kept Barbara in a shoe box on the counter. She hadn’t the money to pay for childcare. One day, the box slipped and fell to the floor. After that, her mother, with a heavy heart, made arrangements with Barbara’s uncle to adopt her. Her adopted parents deeply loved Barbara but they, too, grew up with damages and weren’t always the kindest of parents. If Barbara acted out too much, she was threatened with being sent back to her mother, which felt like abandonment to Barbara. This was something she had to deal with all her life. She learned to not rock the boat as she figured the best plan of action was to avoid drawing attention to herself at all costs. But if this was the motivation for her seeming unconditional acts of kindness, that was only so in the beginning. She grew into it so much, she physically hurt for others at times and was helpless not to respond. She was a natural fit for The Prosperos and what we teach.

She’s just one amazing student we have lost. There are many others. I challenge those of you who read this to write your own odes to students who had an effect on you but now are gone. It just feels right to have a tribute written to them—even if it just dissipates and scatters to the wind. I know Barbara, having sailed with many winds, would love that idea.