LYNNE WASHINGTON (1994-1997): Caring For Each Other
On a cold, snowy, and icy night in January of 1994, my mother and Parish priest, the Rev. Dr. Colin V. Barrow arrived at GTS in a U-Haul truck with all my belongings. We struggled to get my belongings through the gates and up the steps through “the Close” and up the steps to Edson Dorm. I remember strangers at this point from the Close rescuing us in the snow and ice. My life changed at that moment, forever. I had always wanted to live in New York city; my dream was to be the female version of Gordon Gekko from the movie Wall Street. I guess God had another plan. Those plans that God intended had curated friendships and relationships that will last a lifetime. God allowed me to be in New York City years later but not as the Wall Street mogul like I had imagined, thanks be to God.
As I reflect on my journey and the impact of the women who came into my life as a seminarian at General and on the Close, I will always be grateful. It was with them that we explored New York City late nights on Fifth Avenue, the filming of Round Midnight, (story of jazz artist Dexter Gordon) and long challenging conversations of the time—this new liberation theory called Womanism. It was here that I met my former mother-in-law, Deacon Joyce Washington, and experienced Harlem through historic St. Philip’s Harlem as a seminarian. As well, I had also developed many other life-long friendships, relationships, and experiences.
During my time at General Seminary, I became ill with an ovarian cyst and the pain was constricting my ability to move about freely. I made the decision to undertake surgery. My mother had to come from Southern Ohio to be with me. I worried about her stay on the Close and her not knowing anyone. It was this moment that the relationships on the Close took full formation. John Thompson Quartey, who years later eulogized mom, made sure every morning she had her morning cup of Joe and a bite to eat. Ed Payne and his family made sure my mom felt at home on the Close. Pat McCaughan would check on her daily like a big sister concerned for her younger sister. So many others reached out to my mom, and they knew that she was alone and afraid for her daughter recuperating at St. Vincent’s hospital.
The relationships formed in the community are relationships that last a lifetime. The place where relationships were formed for me was the Refectory table and not the Chapel. The refectory table is where we learned to care for each other; in small acts of kindness, beginning with asking or simply just picking up your neighbor's tray after completing their meal. The hospitality shown to my mom began at the table where many of us learned the simple act of caring. The simple act of caring that checked on my mom. I will always be grateful for the care and love given to her by the strangers at GTS in a foreign venue called the Close. Thanks be to God!