Thoughts following the election

By Craig Hovey

After yesterday’s election—indeed after months and months of the election—many people are exhausted and today a lot of Americans are profoundly nervous about what a Trump presidency will hold. I am one of those people too.

While the Ashland Center for Nonviolence is a non-partisan organization, peace movements in America have generally been more at home on the Left since at least the early twentieth century. In the last half-century especially, the conscientious objectors, other war critics, and the advocates for civil rights largely saw their movements most represented among the Democratic party. This has not meant, of course, that Democratic leaders have always embraced nonviolence. As I watched the Clinton and Trump campaigns, I sensed some role-reversal early on when it came to Hillary Clinton’s strong advocacy for military might and Donald Trump’s near isolationism.

But I’ve always insisted that there’s more to peace than simply avoiding war. Nonviolence is also a gentle spirit that looks for concord, that advances respect for people who are different, that lifts up the weak, and seeks justice for the oppressed.

Listening to Veterans

By Emily Wirtz

It’s difficult to overstate how much genuine human connections contribute to our well-being in all facets of life. I am learning that this is especially true of veterans. When people—often very different people—come together to share and to listen, great things can happen.

As a senior in college, résumé building is a top-priority sort of task—next behind endless homework of course. Hours of adding, editing, changing, editing and formatting go into the single-sheet “about-to-graduate-and-desperately-need-a-job-to-pay-off-my-loans” certificate of transition. I have been fortunate enough to not need to fluff up my own résumé with vague job descriptions and a list of activities I’m barely to not involved in, in order to feel confident enough to land myself a job once I graduate. Via an exceptionally supportive AU staff, my own human connections, I am currently working my 4^th internship this year, an accomplishment that shows the faculty’s care and dedication.

Ginny Telego pays Tribute to John Stratton

By Ginny Telego

Today my heart is heavy with the loss of my dear friend, Dr. John Stratton.

I first got to know John in 2013, as I was transitioning in my career and applied for a part-time position as the Assistant Director for the Ashland Center for Nonviolence at Ashland University. I knew who John was from a previous time of employment at Ashland University, but I had not worked with him directly. When I had my initial “interview” for ACN with John in his office, we immediately hit it off. I loved his brash exterior that vaguely covered his true heart and giving nature. After being hired, I had the privilege to spend a great deal of time with John and his wife, Dorothy, sharing our views on nonviolence and world events as well as the ongoing challenges at AU during that time. John brought me into ACN’s circle where I quickly found a place that I could be myself, openly expressing my “inclusive” views as well as learning more about the impact that nonviolence could have in resolving conflict – whether among families, neighbors or countries.

John was passionate about peace. He believed that it was indeed possible to resolve conflict without the use of deadly force and he wasn’t afraid to voice those beliefs to anyone who would listen, as well as to those who might not want to listen. John loved teaching and empowering others and he taught many people how to work to create change in achieving peace. He was a leader in educating both students and the broader community about the power of nonviolence as a method for conflict resolution.

I will especially miss our conversations about current events and sharing with him the work I am doing with my equine assisted learning program. Even after I left ACN to focus on my business, John continued to encourage me and pushed me to open my mind to opportunities that would allow me to guide people in gaining more self-awareness – with the hope that such self-awareness might lead to new insights on how they could become more accepting of others and resolve conflict through nonviolent means.

Most of all, for me personally, John encouraged me to pursue my own beliefs about connection and to not be afraid to question the belief among others that violence is the answer to conflict. He taught me to not be afraid to ask questions of others who believed that working towards peace was a waste of time. He taught me to believe in myself and that I could make a difference in the world. For that I will be eternally grateful.

As I bid John farewell from this world, these words from Gandhi will always make me think of him: “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Thank you, John Stratton, for setting the example of this and for encouraging others to speak out to create change. Many thanks to you my dear friend – for accepting me for who I am and for teaching me to not accept the status quo in the world.


Ginny Telego served as Assistant Director of the Ashland Center for Nonviolence from 2013 to 2015.

What John Stratton taught me about Peace

By Craig Hovey

John Stratton passed away at home on Sunday. I knew John to be a deeply generous soul with an enormous heart mostly in his work as a local leader in the cause of nonviolence. I’m honored to have succeeded him in leading an organization he founded, the Ashland Center for Nonviolence. While there will no doubt be a lot of tributes to John in the coming days, I wanted to reflect on what I learned from him about peace.

John didn’t just wish for peace. He was committed to making it happen locally and was flat-out mad at the fact that American society seems to resort to violence so quickly. At the same time, John didn’t think of himself as a pacifist, but as a skeptic. He was especially skeptical of either/or thinking that ruled out creative approaches to resolving conflict without violence. He could also be skeptical of religious people if he sensed rigidity. It occurs to me that my own brand of Christian pacifism might have struck him as somewhat rigid too. John was adept at looking for different, untried ways, which I observed in him on many occasions, but presumably on none so critical and sustained as his recent illness. (I hesitate to “use” John’s illness as an “illustration” for what are probably obvious reasons. Yet if dying well is really about living well, we should take notice of how others and ourselves do both.)

What the Khan Exchange Reveals about America

By Craig Hovey

The recent exchange between the Democratic National Convention speakers, the Khans, and Donald Trump reveals a lot, not least about Trump’s insensitivity and lack of tact and political judgment.

Source: Slate.com

But I’m also interested in what it reveals about what really counts when it comes to demonstrating belonging, even unity, in America. The Khans, Muslim immigrants to the US, spoke at the DNC about their son’s sacrifice for his country in the US military—Humayun Khan was a US Army captain who was killed in Iraq in 2004. Trump’s very simplistic (not to mention dangerous and frankly un-American) suspicion of Muslims and immigrants is shown so strikingly by an equally simple demonstration of a single counter-example. It simply falls apart. Trump, who is notoriously anti-immigrant and anti-Islam, publicly mocked the family, drawing harsh criticisms from many veterans, including John McCain. We see in the DNC’s choice of the Khan family the strongest kind of example available for displaying the full inclusivity of American society: that fact that Muslims too will fight and die for America.

I believe that the Khans deserve deep admiration and respect. But I also wish that the lengths we apparently need to go to in America to communicate the full inclusion of Muslims and / or immigrants didn’t have to involve the death (sacrifice) of members of those groups.

Responding to Orlando

By Craig Hovey

We at the Ashland Center for Nonviolence join with so many others throughout the world in mourning the shooting in Orlando, the worst mass shooting in US history. There is just too much to mourn at once: the 49 lives lost, the 53 additional wounded, the terror felt especially by LGBT people, the inevitable backlash against Muslims in the US, the increasingly shrill tone of the debate about assault rifles, and the opportunistic political responses that jump on one or the other of these facets.

What is the meaning of nonviolence at times like this? I remain convinced that nonviolence is never just about ending violence; it is also a spirit that seeks justice through peaceful means. There are competing ideas about justice in our world, of course. After all, it appears that the gunman in Orlando was motivated by a version of “justice” understood as punishment and moral condemnation. But this separates justice and peace; we must hold them together. “There is no way to peace,” said A.J. Muste. “Peace is the way.”

I am aware that quoting Muste’s famous words risks sounding like a platitude, especially at a time like this.

Why Obama Won't Apologize for Hiroshima

By Craig Hovey

President Obama’s visit to Hiroshima is historic—he is the first sitting president to visit there—and he spoke movingly and philosophically about the desire for the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to mark the “start of our own moral awakening.” But observers also noted that Japan should not expect an apology for America’s actions 71 years ago. Why not?

Hiroshima Peace Memorial - Wikipedia

According to Stanley Hauerwas, war is a sacrificial system which, like anthropologists have long noted about religion, sacralizes violence through ritual. Even when surrounded by the most rigorously secular discourse, war often takes on a quasi-religious significance for a society, especially in how it is remembered. It is very difficult for a society to admit that an entire war was wrong (Vietnam) or that particular acts within a war otherwise thought justified might be wrong (Hiroshima) because admitting this calls into question all of the sacrifices that that society asked of its people when it waged those wars in the first place.

ACN receives Outstanding Award for MLK Day 2015

The Ashland Center for Nonviolence was recently honored at the Ashland University Service and Leadership Awards ceremony for our 2015 Martin Luther King Day event featuring civil rights legend C. T. Vivian.

In case you missed it, watch C.T. Vivian's address on YouTube.

For Martin Luther King Day 2015, the Ashland Center for Nonviolence bridged the AU campus and the wider community through an event featuring the civil rights legend, C.T. Vivian. At 91 years old, Dr. Vivian addressed a crowd of 650 attendees in Upper Convo, discussing his personal friendship with Martin Luther King, as well as his impressive involvement in pioneering activities for desegregation and civil rights such as the famous 1965 march from Selma, Alabama to Montgomery.

Faith & Ferguson: Coming soon to Ashland

The Ashland Center for Nonviolence is joining with the Ashland University's Religion Department to host musician and activist Michelle Higgins on April 20-21. She will have a full schedule preaching, teaching and conducting workshops with Ashland students. A number of the events are free and open to the public:

Wednesday, April 20
12:00-1:30	Workshop: Nonviolent de-escalation in the midst of crisis,  Eagle’s Landing, Hawkins-Conard Student Center
7:00-8:30	“Last” Lecture: Your Faith for Justice, Ridenour Room, College of Business
Thursday, April 21
10:50-12:05	Conversation: The New Civil Rights Movement After Ferguson, Ronk Lecture Theater, College of Education
8:00-9:30	Sermon: Praying with your Feet, The Well, Miller Chapel

"It is exciting for us to have Michelle Higgins coming to campus," said Peter Slade, chair of the Religion Department. "Here at Ashland University we are always trying to make connections between our faith and the communities we live in and serve. Michelle will bring her wealth of experience and wisdom and help us understand the responsibilities and opportunities we have as Christians to engage with these issues of justice and race." Michelle will be speaking in Dr. Slade's class Religion and the Civil Rights Movement. "It is important for us to realize that the movement didn't stop with the passage of the Civil Rights Act or the assassination of Dr. King," Slade said. "This is a living history that calls people of faith to action today."

The Director of Worship and Outreach at South City Church  in the Shaw neighborhood of south St. Louis, Michelle is actively engaged in the #BlackLivesMatter movement. She has participated in civil disobedience, leadership development, logistics and administrative support in both sacred and secular spaces.

Michelle is the Director of Faith for Justice, a Christian advocacy group founded in 2014 dedicated to continuing the biblical story of activism. Faith for Justice promotes and leads public justice actions and events that connect faith communities to the movements that seek to dignify and humanize Black lives.

Though working primarily as a local organizer, Michelle’s work is challenging the wider church. She rose to national prominence with her plenary speech at Urbana 2015, the annual InterVarsity Student Missions Conference. The New York Times commented “in her wide-ranging comments about social justice, Ms. Higgins did little to make her speech more palatable.” The Washington Post concurred,“Michelle Higgins has been making waves.” The Evangelical publication Christianity Today “described her historic speech as "powerful and prophetic testimony.”

Michelle holds an M.Div from Covenant Theological Seminary in Saint Louis and lives in North City with her husband Sean Loftin, and their two children - Moses and Matilda

InterVarsity made this short video introduction to Michelle and her work:

The Possibility of Peace

By Emily Wirtz

I had the wonderful opportunity of meeting with Miki, who was a guest in my American Literature IV class with Dr. Jayne Waterman, for what I thought would be a brief, perhaps 30-minute discussion over dinner. What happened was a two-hour discussion (getting us scolded out of Convo) about our own experiences of culture. We talked about television and the perception of anime and movies, politics and the voting process—in the light of the upcoming election—the perceptions of violence and control, history, and the perception of foreigners, among a plethora of other topics.

It’s incredible, and I think very important, to be able to see and understand how vastly different we all are. Miki also works as an intern for International Student Services on campus, and it was equally intriguing to get her own insights. She expressed that while she is aware of her own uniqueness as an international student, there is also an incredible amount of diversity our national resident students may not even realize. As a full-time international student (as opposed to partaking in a semester- or year-long exchange program), Miki is able to develop lasting relationships with the students she helps, even with a clear language and cultural barrier.

Joe Ehrmann - Coming soon to Ashland!

Nonviolence is always a team effort. At the Ashland Center for Nonviolence, we're constantly looking for ways to join forces with friends working in areas that matter. We're especially excited to team up with the Ashland County Community Foundation Women's Fund and the Ashland University Gridiron Club in order to bring Joe Ehrmann to town this March to talk about sports, masculinity, and violence against women.

Joe Ehrmann is a former NFL defensive lineman who is now an educator, author, activist, minister and motivational speaker. He was an All-American football player at Syracuse University, was selected to the Syracuse All-Century Football Team and went on to play professional football for 13 years. He was named the Baltimore Colts “Man of the Year” and was the NFL’s first Ed Block Courage Award winner. Parade Magazine featured him on its cover, naming him “The Most Important Coach in America” because of his work to transform the culture of sports. In addition, he was selected as one of the “Most Influential Sport Educators in America” by the Institute for International Sport and was awarded the Frederick Douglas National Man of the Year for empowering youth to prevent rape and other forms of male violence.

We are delighted to have Joe speaking on two occasions. Join us for both!

• Friday, March 18 @ 7:00 pm in the Alumni Room, Myers Convocation Center [This event is free and open to the public.]
• Saturday, March 19, Keynote address for the Sports and Violence Conference [This event is for conference attendees. Click here to register for the conference.]

 Check out Joe's TED Talk, "Be A Man"

Many thanks to our sponsors:

Ashland County Community Foundation Women's Fund 

Ashland University Gridiron Club

Identities: I Am.

By Emily Wirtz

One of the final projects Traci discussed focuses on diversity in identity. “Our Lives Matter,” a play on the Black Lives Matter campaign withheld the same values, but broadened to encompass an entire student body—not just the black students. “Headshots” were black and white portrait paintings with punches of color—showing the obscured identities of students in the Bronx, while also representing emotions. A collaboration series she is currently working on is entitled “I Am, I Will, I’m Afraid.” This is a collaboration she brought with her.

Ashland University is a predominantly female campus. This was apparent in our first meeting with Molloy. She allowed AU students the opportunity to collaborate with her in a project of our own. The morning before her presentation, we gathered in a CFA art room, filling it with female students. Dr. Cynthia Petry introduced her, and she then introduced her collaboration. Each “I Am” piece preceding had encompassed some trait of the students within it. Portraits were taken and overlapped, creating a single image of multiple people. Quotes beginning with “I am…” “I will…” or “I’m afraid…” were also taken and layered into the portrait, looking something like this (her piece from Wellsville, NY). This then became our “assignment.”

Deciding on our own identities was not a long process. We were all women, many of us in our late adolescent years, and there was one issue that seemed to stick with all of us: gender-based violence. We talked about ourselves and other women we knew who had been through abusive relationships—whether verbal or physical—sexual abuse, sexual assault, sexual harassment, rape, cat-calling, slut-shaming, and the list goes on. The shocking thing? There wasn’t a single person in the room who didn’t raise her hand when the question “Do you know someone who’s been sexually assaulted?” was asked. That’s a problem, and for whatever reason, as women, that has become our identity. We are targets and victims because we are women. This project became our own personal solution. We are queens of our own lives and our photographs were to look as such. We chose to represent the strength and power that we have as women, even though we are not perceived this way. An image of feminine power? Katy Perry. Granted we didn’t have a crown or scepter, we had the attitude and the pose.

As we await the results of the final project, I think it’s important for us women to live through this strength. We should not have to carry mace or fake a phone call in order to feel safe walking down the side walk. Even Traci expressed her sincere concern for us as young women: “We need to pay attention to violence on women. We need to take back the night…and become inspired to do something more. This piece when it’s finished will have a life. I hope it has power.”

Every one of us has an identity. Every one of us also has an ethnicity, a race, a gender, a class, and a past. How we choose to identify ourselves may or may not be one of those categories. Unfortunately, all too often a stereotype arises from something that makes us who we are. Our race becomes our label, or our gender, sexuality, class, etc. and those labels become how we are identified—not how we identify ourselves. All too often a black man is perceived to have a gun in his pocket instead of a checkbook. A woman dressed in old sweats is perceived to have a food stamps card instead of a teaching license. A man on the streets is seen as a lazy addict instead of a man with a Ph.D. and a family to feed.


Emily Wirtz is an intern and Peace Scholar with the Ashland Center for Nonviolence.

When Did I Become A Latina Caricature?

By María Cardona

I have always been very proud to be Latina. To be Puerto Rican has always seemed liked the highest honor for me. However, I’d never truly been aware of my race, that is, until I came to the states. Between jokes about how I probably live and participate in a drug cartel to people questioning my lack of an accent I suddenly found myself aware of my race and becoming a caricature of what it means to be Hispanic in the eyes of some Americans.

It seems as if everyone wants me to speak with an accent or imitate an American trying to speak Spanish. People clamor for me to say “something in Spanish,” they wonder if I like spicy foods, if I dance. If I’m a little too loud or sassy “It must be that Puerto Rican blood.” Every time the topic of drugs comes up it seems as if all eyes are on me, because as the Hispanic I must know all about it. They seem to think my country is filled with famine, poverty and sickness. It’s a shock to some that we are, indeed, part of the 21st Century.

Loving Our Enemies

By John Stratton

When Jesus challenged us to love our enemies, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean to carpet bomb them.

It is tough to love people we fear, our enemies. Do we even know what the word love means in this context? Are we required to like our enemies? Are we being asked to buy them cotton candy at the county fair? 

Certainly we are not required to be “know” them in the Biblical sense, in the current version of the word “love.” So is this love some kind of Agape love, a distant god-like love?

It’s all very nice to quote Jesus hypothetically, but it is tough to consider what “love our enemies” means when we are talking about actual people and actual fear, people who actually want to hurt us.

Identities: Parents

By Emily Wirtz

Visiting artist Traci Malloy's presentation on Oct. 8 continued with her work on collaborative art. After September 11th, a significant amount of young children were left without a parent, and many of them didn’t know why. How was a mother to tell her kindergartener that daddy was killed at work by a hijacked plane? It’s not an easy conversation to have, and it’s not an easy concept for a child to grasp. For this reason, America’s Camp was started.

She explains how difficult it was to see these kids, devastated and confused by a tragedy so far beyond their understanding, trying to cope. Her collaboration with these children was eye-opening, if hard on the heart. During the years of America’s Camp, she and the children created a quilt, postcards, a paper mache phoenix and a variety of drawings. One of her projects opened up to be an incredibly powerful piece of artwork, surprising even her.

In introducing this piece, she first delved into a bit of Greek mythology. Pandora’s Box is quite often a misinterpreted story. The first woman on earth was given a box by Zeus. Pandora opened the box, letting forth all of the evils and death of the world. Frantically closing it, Pandora unknowingly trapped hope inside. “Pandora’s Lantern” is based off of this story. Like a giant Chinese lantern, the panels of this piece of artwork fold in and out, containing the drawings of the kids of America’s Camp. Within the lantern is light, showing the hope these children have for their own futures, along with a recording of the children’s voices, naming their parents and their hopes. The hope left in Pandora’s Box is exposed and radiating in these kids.

Traci reflected that the drawings the campers made for each project grew more and more vibrant and visually hopeful throughout the years and until America’s Camp was no longer—victims’ children were no longer children. Her artwork brought joy and life back into the hearts of tragedy. The children were no longer the children of victims, but the children of mothers and fathers. They were not labeled as victims of tragedy, but were identified as bearers of light and hope.

Every one of us has an identity. Every one of us also has an ethnicity, a race, a gender, a class, and a past. How we choose to identify ourselves may or may not be one of those categories. Unfortunately, all too often a stereotype arises from something that makes us who we are. Our race becomes our label, or our gender, sexuality, class, etc. and those labels become how we are identified—not how we identify ourselves. All too often a black man is perceived to have a gun in his pocket instead of a checkbook. A woman dressed in old sweats is perceived to have a food stamps card instead of a teaching license. A man on the streets is seen as a lazy addict instead of a man with a Ph.D. and a family to feed. 

Emily Wirtz is an intern and Peace Scholar with the Ashland Center for Nonviolence.