Two weeks ago I travelled to Monteith, Georgia on the outskirts of Savannah and sat in Mount Moriah Baptist Church to witness an enormous amount of respect and love being poured out in memory of  Mrs. Emma Williams — a “Mother” of that church who had died and gone home to the bosom of Abraham in the kingdom of God.  (Mrs. Williams was the maternal grandmother of my ward and co-worker Edward Washington II.)  A small number of other congregants were like me; outsiders drawn in because we knew her peripherally or tangentially through the vast network of her near and distant relatives.  But mainly the good citizens of  North Georgia/South Carolina where she lived her ninety-one years were in attendance.  They had known, and been known by, Mother Williams all their lives (or just about).  They had been touched by her kind nature, by her devotedness, by her sternly unbending Christianity, by the constancy of her ways, and by the generosity of her spirit.  In two services – Friday evening vigil and Saturday morning funeral -  they took pains to mark where her place among them had been, and to point out the emptiness left by her going from them. They meant to honor her memory and, in doing so, ensure her legacy would outlive her death.  Friday was especially moving, as nearly every person who rose to “talk some talk” about Miss Emma closed the telling of their tale with a song.  I thought, “They are singing her to heaven!”  Being in that sanctuary at that hour was a blessed privilege.  

Later, after waiting too long to eat and take medication, I could not fall asleep for the snatches of melody and snippets of sacred text running through my head.  Leaving my hotel room I crept along the silent corridor, descended three fights of steps, and set out on a slow walk down the bypass road heading to where there was a large pond.  The night was still and clear. Tall signs glowed in  the darkness to assure me there was ‘VACANCY’ at the inns I passed on the way. A swishing of tires and flash of headlamps through the pine grove reminded me that nearby Interstate-95 was alive with hardy travellers pressing on to their destinations.  In a short while I stood beside the murky pond and spoke into a silence broken only by the occasional croaking frog.  I asked God “Might anyone remember me as vividly as Mother Williams?” The quiet reply was ‘I will. Expect more only when it happens.”  Laughing aloud then, I strode briskly on the way back, and sang for myself as many verses of the hymn “Pass Me Not, O Gentle Saviour!” as I could recall. Sleep came in a rush.

Last week I had the joy of participating in a Career Day exercise with a group of youngsters involved in an Orlando Junior League after school program.  My friend Catherine Losey (an attorney with the Akerman-Senterfitt law firm) asked if I would come talk about my work and answer questions posed by anyone.  What a hoot!   Next to me a couple of brawny firefighters were showing off their battering rams, super-duper insulated firesuits and tools galore.   Meanwhile, I sat at my bare display table knowing that kids would be coming by only because they were required to visit every station and get a sticker to prove they had.  Sure enough, my first middle school visitor laid it out immediately. “Sooooo, where’s your stuff, mister?” I pointed. “In my head.”  ‘Huh?”  ”Yep. I wanna chat with you for a minute or two about songs that Americans have carried around in their heads and hearts for a long time.”  And we were off to the races.  I began my encounter with each succeeding visitor by inviting them to join me in one verse of the ultra-familiar American Negro spiritual song “This Little Light Of Mine”.  Nearly every child recognized the tune and could sing some words from memory. The aim of my little three-minutes chat that followed was to convince them that our collective social memory is an important tool for preserving  human culture and passing it along to future generations.    I think every kid got the message. I know that every adult chaperon who sat in loved it!

My adoptive Irish sibling Marion McGrane Hall who lives in California once told me that — having spent time together only on those infrequent occasions when her family came East for a visit – their children spoke of me as the uncle they knew “from memory”.   But in my view, to be remembered is a major chord in the symphony of being loved.  I suspect that is why some friends who came to mean the most to me over a lifetime are ones I seldom see with my eyes or touch in the flesh.  Instead they are inscribed in my memory, and they live in my heart. I like that.

Most anyone reading this must know by now that I have committed myself to the mission of preserving a piece of American history and passing it along into the future.  The work is hard.  Every funeral I attend reminds me of my own mortality, and raises concerns for the survivability of this venture.  On the other hand, each time I brush up against any spirituality as steady and sure as the kind displayed in Monteith, I call to mind yet again the value of this incredible music we are safeguarding.  Then too, every encounter with a youngster whose sponge-like brain begs for a flood of  things that prove memorable once they are learned represents hope to me.  It likewise reaffirms my faith that generations to come will honor and appreciate you and me as keepers of a rich heritage.  That they will do so is, without question, proof of the immutable integrity of human memory, and the virtue of the occasional nighttime chat with the divine.

As a test of what you’ve gained from this blog entry:  Do you remember the ‘LET IT SHINE’ fundraising challenge laid down by our friends at Bright House Networks? You can refresh your memory by reviewing the information found on the homepage of our website. Meeting the goal is the only way we get to keep their matching contribution, so please follow the READ MORE link for directions and play your part if you have not done so already. I urge you to be as generous as you can. Every gift helps us make the future possible. 

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

For much of the past three months I have kept vigil beside the hospital bed of Junior C. Thrower.  He died on Friday of  last week at the age of seventy-seven.  

I came to know Mr. Thrower when he married a woman I greatly admired – Edna Sampson Hargrett-Thrower– over a decade ago.  Since her death in 2010, Mr. Thrower has kept me both amused and frustrated during my almost daily visits to his home, as I strove to honor a promise I had made to Edna in life that I would “see about”  her husband.   Following his late wife’s  lead, Mr. Thrower had begun referring to me as his godson, and I should not have been surprised when he designated me to be his health care surrogate.  Indeed, I was humbled by the trust he placed in me.  I  learned a great deal from the experience of trying to uphold my charge on behalf of an increasingly sick individual who I could only sit next to as he gradually faded from this life.  I want to share some of the hard lessons with you, dear readers.

• I learned that life and death, suffering and sorrow, love and judgment, grace and hope, justice and mercy are all of a single piece for human beings.  We are foolish when we try to treat these major themes in isolation one from the other.
• I learned that both the administering of medical treatment and the delivery of nursing care are noble undertakings not meant for the faint-of-heart and those weak in mind or spirit.  The ranks of health care professionals are – thankfully – populated overwhelmingly by those who show quiet competence and high intelligence day after day.
• I learned that every person who is laid low and made helpless by physical illness needs an advocate to protect them from possible maltreatment by professional strangers.  The hospital environment is a hotbed of potential hazards to health, and no one knows this better than the administrators and workers who staff these modern facilities. 
• I learned that everyone who falls helplessly ill needs a bulwark to defend them against either the innocent whims or crafty wiles of a few of the people they know and love.  You would be amazed at how quickly some normally well-adjusted friends and relatives come unglued when dealing with sickness or death.
• I learned that having to put the interests of someone else before your own on a persistent basis inevitably takes its toll.  After sending a particularly wrenching note about my caretaking trials and tribulations to a good friend halfway into my sojourn with Mr. Thrower’s illness, I was bemused to get back a pithy and proverbial response: “No good deed goes unpunished!”
• Lastly, I learned (or rather re-learned) that no matter how bleak the circumstance, there are always angels hovering around to guard us, and kindly saints waiting in the wings to help.  We  have only to look around for them, and let them touch us when they incline our way. (But you knew that already.)

We are one week away from Saturday the 10th of March , when sponsoring partners Atlantic Justice Law Group and Bright House Networks will host our sixteenth annual World -Premiere Gala at the spectacular Loews Portofino Bay Hotel in Universal Orlando resort.  There are still seats available, and I urge you to look back at the homepage of our website for details about how to gain admission to this always-thrilling event. You will hear amazing voices perform inspiring music, visit with some of the intriguing people and stellar companies that support us, and help to further a worthy cause: the education of American youth.  I REALLY want you to come, and I will notice if you do not!  Besides, it is always a shame when you miss a great party…

One final note:  The “NS”SF staff is soon to consult with our Board of Directors about making one or two fairly radical changes in the operational structure of our agency, and in the design of some aspects of our programming.  Those of you who have been with us for a while know that this happens from time-to-time. Because the mission of our organization is idealistic (preserving American music) and value-driven (providing educational opportunity), we fall within a murky area of the nonprofit sector; one that is not easily funded by traditional means, especially during an economic downturn.  So we occasionally have to strike off from the beaten path and do things in ways unique to us rather than common to most.  Rest assured, however, that we do not ever stray from the two simple prongs of our mission, and that we remain faithful to the vision outlined for us by founding patrons +Bishop Thomas J. Grady and  Curtis Rayam, Jr. at our inception.  We are merely adjusting ourselves in the present so as to better prepare for the future.  Stay tuned.

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

A new patron of the Foundation recently posed a question in a gentle but forthright way during his first meeting with me:  ”I was wondering about the name of your organization. Is it really okay [i.e. politically correct] to say ‘Negro’ anymore?“   (He was concerned about how to approach Caucasians like himself and people of other races he wished to introduce to the work of our organization.)  Talking together for a few minutes my new friend and I laid out our agreement on these salient points:

• First, the word ‘Negro’ is NOT the equivalent of its pejorative shorthand slang cousin that has been (and rightly so) all-but abandoned in vernacular American speech.
• Second, the word ‘Negro’ is a dated, historically accurate race indicator that was commonly and proudly used (by African-American themselves as a self-identifier even ) up until the middle period of the twentieth century.  It is no longer used in this country for that sociological purpose. 
• Third, the quotation marks that ALWAYS appear in our agency’s name intend to show that it is the conjoined term “Negro spiritual” (rather than one or other word taken alone) that comes into play here. 
• Fourth, ‘Negro spiritual’ is the musician’s shorthand for ‘Negro spiritual song’ – a tune with text created by slave-era African Americans and passed down through succeeding generations.

To be clear then – We are not a “Negro” (i.e. racially or culturally defined) organization.  Nor are we a “spiritual” (i.e. religiously-affiliated, sectarian, or denominational) body.  But we are an agency dedicated to preserving and promoting arranged Negro spirituals, and we use these songs as a vehicle for giving scholarship help (in the form of tuition-assistance grants) to young people as they enter college.

Get it now?  The “Negro Spiritual” Scholarship Foundation: A wonderfully correct name by any measure!

The coming months will be a blur of activities that bring our mission to life in very direct ways.  My usual shameless plugs are in order: 

•  1. If you live in Central Florida you must come to Florida Southern College in Lakeland on Saturday 11th February to hear a talented group of young singers compete for this year’s prize.  The recital hall opens for our invited guests at noon.  There is no fee to attend, however you must call 407/841-6773 to reserve seats in advance if you wish to be admitted. 
• 2. You may wish to join a select gathering of corporations and individuals for our elegant Annual World-Premiere Gala at the Portofino Bay Hotel (Universal Resort) on Saturday 10th March, when this year’s commissioned work is launched, and winning students are celebrated. You may purchase tickets using the DONATE NOW paycart on line at our website www.negrospiritual.org.  Call 407/841-6773 if you have questions or need more information.
• 3. If you have a passion for golfing, do not miss ATLANTIC  JUSTICE Law Group’s Celebrity Benefit Tournament on Monday 12th March on the spectacular Golden Bear at Keene’s Pointe (Windermere) course.  Senior PGA golfer Jim Thorpe is tournament host. See our website www.negrospiritual.org for details, then call Sherry Suarez of BANK UNITED at 407/254-3007 to register a foursome and secure your spot in the field today!

Thank you each and every one for remaining faithful to the ideals we hold in common.  I gain my energy and drive from your assured support.

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

It was early in the morning, and I was driving through  predawn mist heading north along Interstate-75 in anticipation of spending a few glorious days of rest and enjoyment with the family of co-worker Edward Washington II.  Trucks rolled by, rain poured down, and wiper blades kept up a steady swishing cadence while Edward, curled against the passenger door of the front seat, snored ever so gently.  I found myself at prayer,  an inclination sparked by the timeliness of that particular span of time; a string of quiet moments when, trapped in a sealed compartment and alone with my thoughts, holiness loomed and hovered. 

I prayed thankfully about the period of grave illness from which I am now emerging, mindful of the fine medical care, friendship, love, and grace that came to me in abundance over those many months.  I prayed in supplication for the repose of the soul of my lately deceased birth father Rudolph Valentino Cleare, asking God to show mercy and to grant him rest.  I prayed joyfully with the memories of recent sweet moments: an evening spent with Molly Losey to celebrate her birthday, riotous laughter over lunch with Michael Sampson, dinner meals and long talks with my foster mother Patricia Coakley who came to visit for a bit, a weekend with Sharon Roberson that was taken up with roller skating, movie watching, power walking, church-service hunting (to no avail!) a drive through the North Florida countryside, and a first-ever chance to see Arabian horses up close.  I prayed in sorrow for my young friend Shane Hengehold, whose health and well-being are in jeopardy on account of potential liver failure.  I prayed even harder for Shane’s parents, sister, wife and young sons, all of whom will be deeply wounded should he leave them sooner than expected.  I prayed with pride as I recalled walking onstage with other singers to perform in concert with Maestro Christopher Wilkins and the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra not long ago.  I prayed happily, with memories of a short trip to Massachusetts and time spent  there with my sister Maura McGrane and her children. My prayers became a reminder that a great many of our seemingly ordinary moments – the occasions and situations we pass through daily without much fuss or focus – are infused with a sacred tinge.  Holiness lurks.

Nearing the end of the drive to Fayetteville, my passenger awoke, uncurled himself with a stretch, and asked “What did you do this whole time?”  So we spent the rest of the trip talking about holiness and hope, and our respective thirst to experience these in daily living.  Then we landed in Fayetteville where his parents John and Jessica Beckett treated me like a prince and, along with nearly forty others they assembled for a Thanksgiving feast, fed me like a king.  I have said before that the saints are not all dead; nor do all God’s angels live in heaven.  The holy time we now embark upon should prove me right.

The next thirty calendar days are generally regarded as a special time when a series of sacred events springing from diverse traditions and cultures are recalled and celebrated as expressions of faith. For persons who avow no religion, the time is still “hallowed” in a sense by a pensive mood that comes along with the seasonal quieting of the earth in late Autumn and early Winter (in this hemisphere at least). Our Foundation marks this time with an annual songfest we call Behold! that is slated for Saturday 10th December in St. Margaret Mary Catholic Church (Winter Park) beginning at 7:00 p.m.  Featuring our “NS”SF Master Singers, the program includes sacred music from around the world, with special regard to Hanukkah, Advent, and Christmas.  A secular carol or two will also be enjoyed.  If you live in the area, please join us for this evening.  Spending the time together would invite holiness, I think.

Recently, our “NS”SF Board member Joseph Cleveland and his wife Evelyn Cleveland gathered a group of Foundation Friends in their lovely Windermere residence to launch a special funding drive in support of our programs.  We heard exquisite singing on that occasion (click here to enjoy sounds of young baritone Frank Humphrey and  tenor Timothy Miller, our featured artist) and raised substantial dollars in the form of major gifts of (most in excess of $500) contributed by those attending.   Many of you who were not present will mark this time of year with personal acts of kindness and with charitable giving, and I would ask you to consider placing the “Negro Spiritual” Scholarship Foundation on your list for a sizeable year’s-end contribution of your own.  (Use the DONATE NOW button on our website to make an immediate tax-deductible  contribution, or call  407/841-6773 to process a contribution by telephone.) As always, these donations are needed to keep our agency solvent and our  mission viable.  Your generosity will enhance the holiness of this present time for every person who benefits from our work.

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

Visitors to our website www.negrospiritual.org can now enjoy sights and sounds from our most recent ‘Suitable Airs’ XIII concert that have been uploaded and posted to the News & Showcase section of the homepage.  In addition many patrons who attended the event — and even more who could not attend — have been asking when they can hear more great songs and fine voices produced by our Music & Education Department. We live only to fulfill your wishes, gentle friends, so read on.

Some of you will hear the outstanding voice of Atlanta-based tenor Timothy Miller this coming Sunday evening, 6th November, when he appears in private recital at the home of Joseph and Evelyn Cleveland during our 2011 Major Gifts Fundraising kickoff event.  Backed by the genius of Orlando’s own Robin Stamper on piano, Mr. Miller will present a varied program to include operatic arias, art songs and Negro spirituals. (You may sample his grand talent on You Tube here ‘Come To The Manger‘.)  Guests will also be treated to the vocal talent and charisma of young baritone Frank Humphrey III, our 2011 (Florida) GRADY-RAYAM PRIZE winner and Male Vocalist. The event is by invitation only, and is limited to those patrons willing to consider making a generous charitable gift in response. If you think you fit this category but did not receive an invitation by mail, feel free to call 407/841-6773 for further information.

Tickets are on sale now for the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra presentation of AMERICAN VOICES, a musical extravaganza featuring maestro Christopher Wilkins as conductor, with our own “NS”SF Master Singers directed by Edward Washington II and the Florida Opera Theatre Chorus directed by Robin Stamper.  Set for Saturday, November 12, 2011 at 8:00 p.m. in the Bob Carr Performing Arts Center, the program is a celebration of Central Florida culture as it echoes through the music of Hailstork, Delius and Copland. To learn more call 407/770-0071 0r visit OrlandoPhil.org.

It’s not too early to mark Saturday 10th December in your calendar for Behold! - our annual presentation of music to honor the holy days of Advent, Christmas, and Hannukah.  Sung each year in the sacred space of St. Margaret Mary Catholic Church on Park Avenue in Winter Park, this program of varied seasonal music highlights the intense choral texture and solo voices of the “NS”SF Master Singers, along with guest artists to include soprano Leigha Pace from First Presbyterian Church of Orlando. Featured will be songs drawn from many cultures, with excerpts of sacred oratorio, carol singing and music of the popular idiom.  We hope to see you there.

On a more personal and non-musical note: I visited my urologist earlier today and learned that I am being taken off the drug that was prescribed two years ago as a means to contain the prostate cancer.  Dr. Chris Webster now believes the disease to be in full remission.  I had a Lupron shot today (which lasts three months) but it will be my last for a while at least.  Once this dose wears off,  my body will begin  producing testosterone once more and, so long as the PSA number stays within a normal range, the cure will be considered complete.  I will be continually monitored, and we should know for certain nine months to a year from now.  While we wait, I shall simply get on with the rest of my wonderful life. Yippee!!!  I seem to recall that I quoted the refrain of an old Negro spiritual song to a few persons when I first began this ordeal, and it seems fitting, in light of today’s news, to echo the refrain yet again for the benefit of everyone who stood by and kept vigil with me throughout:

“I heard from Heaven today. I heard from Heaven today. I thanks God, and I thanks you too! I heard from heaven today.”

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

The Foundation recently celebrated the first Winners’ Weekend in our history; an expansion of our tradition of presenting prize-winning young scholars, a feature artist, and great music to Central Florida in a major concert event each October.  This year, instead of holding the Sunday evening concert alone, we “upsized” the experience by creating a full weekend of activities for the enjoyment of six of our 2011 GRADY-RAYAM PRIZE Vocalists: Whitley Lacy and Frank Humphrey from Florida, Dewayne Gamble from Maryland, Myra Tate and Adrian Fullerwinder from North Carolina, and Cedric Townsend from Tennessee. Their Friday agenda included an  official visit to City Hall in downtown Orlando, followed by orientation, dinner & music rehearsal at the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra office in Loch Haven Park. Saturday began with an early morning music rehearsal, then on to the home of Ralph & Molly Losey in Winter Park for a visit with our Namesake Patron Curtis Rayam Jr. and a poolside picnic lunch. That evening the group was given complimentary admission by WONDERWORKS on International Drive to enjoy the attraction and a hilarious magic/comedy dinner show.  On Sunday morning, we visited First Presbyterian Church of Orlando for worship at 11:00 o’clock, during which soprano Leigha Pace delivered a moving rendition of the spiritual Steal Away To Jesus in an arrangement by Roland Carter, drawn from our GRADY-RAYAM series of commissioned works. Our group was warmly welcomed to FPCO by Minister of Music Dr. Rebecca Bedell. Soon after church our students were treated to lunch at the Bayhill Country Club, courtesy of Joe & Evelyn Cleveland. The weekend culminated in the always-thrilling musical feast of a ‘Suitable Airs’ concert in the sanctuary of Macedonia Missionary Baptist Church in Eatonville, spearheaded by Mr. Cleveland. 

I want to thank our Board of Directors and “NS”SF Staff for supporting the idea that we should upsize our program offerings for students even as budget constraints force us to downsize in many other ways. I am grateful to the planning committee comprised of April Walker, Cal Ledbetter, Krista Rice, Junie Monroe, Suzi Bethel, Denise Johnson-Allen and Darin Whyland for organizing the activities and soliciting both monetary and in-kind donations to make the weekend first-rate and affordable.  The Allen, Cleveland,  Robinson and Troutman  households opened their doors and hearts to serve as host families for visiting students. Major funding was provided by Orlando Magic, Care America and United Arts of Central Florida.  A slew of  corporations and individuals responded generously to our calls for additional help with this project: Bank United, Broad & Cassel, Central Florida Gastroenterology (Dr. Stephen Brint), Gabriel Subs, Orange County Government, Orlando Heart Center (Dr. Parimal B. Maniar), Publix Supermarkets, Mr. & Mrs. John B. Soebbing, Urban Trust Bank.  Besides our student vocalists, feature artist Marcia Porter, pianists Robin Stamper and Carole McCutcheon, horn player Mark Fischer and the “NS”SF Master Singers, under the direction of Edward Washington II, contributed much by way of musical excellence.  And we owe a great deal to the members and leadership of Macedonia Missionary Baptist Church (in particular Min. Terrance Lane) for their perenniel hospitality.

The weekend was wonderful and thrilling for the Foundation overall.  My  personal reward came in several forms: observing a fine group of youngsters coming to know one another, rubbing shoulders with the array of volunteers who pitched in at every turn to make this all happen, being in the presence of incredibly talented musicians, noticing the faces of new patrons awed by the music we present. If such a thing is possible, you may consider my appreciation for each of you to be upsized to an unimaginable extent! I am looking forward to next year already…..

Just so that all will know:  Rudolph Valentino Cleare was eighty one years of age when he died this past Wednesday in the Bahama Islands. He was my father. Though we lived apart from each other for all of my adult life (and were deeply estranged for most of that time) I visited with him briefly in December of last year, and spoke with him by telephone regularly over the past few months.  He was ill with cancer and the effects of an ever-weakening heart.  I anticipate and welcome your kind thoughts for his family (me included), and request only that — if so inclined — you should pray he is met with grace and mercy in passing from death to new life.

In earnest,

(Fr. ) Rudi Cleare

From Neil Gaiman’s novel titled American Gods comes this awe-inspiring group of three sentences whispered in the mind of the novel’s main character Shadow:  “All we have to believe with is our senses, the tools we use to perceive the world: our sight, our touch, our memory. If they lie to us, then nothing can be trusted.  And even if we do not believe, then still we cannot travel in any other way than the road our senses show us; and we must walk that road to the end.“ 

I recently watched the movie The Help with a friend;  the compelling narrative — hilarious and bitingly tragic all at once – bombarding my senses with revelation after revelation.  My sight soaked in scenes of the familiar.  My sense of touch made me alternately hug  myself tightly or clutch my head in my hands. My memory thrust me back into Jim Crow days of my early childhood growing up in the island nation of the Bahamas, where I was raised to be an adult while still a child. I think an entire generation of us were.  We were trained to keep our senses on high alert; noticing every object or person around, so that we could gauge and maintain our place in relation to them all.    We lived in either of two distinct modes: watching and listening to our environment, or choosing how to behave in reaction to it. We learned to believe our senses, and to trust them. Which is how I evolved into the control-freak that I am.  A hard pill to swallow ( as everyone from family members to co-workers will attest).   Someone who has to be pried away from convictions dictated by impressions his own mindset registers, and who wants first and always to go down the path his senses show. 

My senses tell me that since the world round about is changing (or at least evolving at lightning speed) right before our eyes, assumptions that guided nonprofit management a scant five years ago no longer apply at all.  As an example, I stumbled across a  series of observations posted by Neil Edgington which describe the difference between traditional “push” marketing activities and the more current and promising “pull” approach.  Push efforts create marketing or fundraising messages (direct mail letters, brochures and pamphlets) that are distributed widely in the hope that someone sees them and responds.  Pull efforts engage and build relationships with specific individuals or communities and invite them to take a personal voluntary interest in your organization. Edgington asserts that “Push efforts are controlling and controlled, time and resource-intensive and yield low returns (direct mailings that get a 2% response rate are considered successful).  Pull efforts are open and inviting and yield much better and longer-term donors because these efforts allow prospects to self-identify.“  Hmmm…. Does this mean a complete shift in mindset for  “rope ’em in” traditionalists like myself who long to control the outcomes? 

Actually, the “NS”SF staffing team and I have been meandering down this new strategic path for some time now. Though hamstrung by a lack of funds and resources, we are fighting to open our organization up to an enlarged universe of supporters, inviting every person connected to us to become an ambassador for our cause.  This replaces the practice of making only a small circle of directors, guild members and trusted advisors responsible for garnering needed support.  And it makes our Foundation’s plan for raising funds through sponsorships in 2011-2012 urgent and compelling.   We would like future event underwriting to reflect a clear choice that sponsors can make without coercion, and plan to fulfill with ease.  The desired outcome?  A steady and reliable flow of underwriting sponsorships for specific programs, coming from multiple donors.  We have posted to the homepage of our website a link to  a menu listing four major program activities that need to be underwritten.  Sponsorship levels are designated for each activity.  It will only take a few minutes to read through the list and familiarize yourself with these opportunities, each of which is a building block for the good work we can accomplish this upcoming season.  I would then ask each of you to be on the alert for one person, corporation or community group  who is able to give and whose interests match ours in some way, and encourage them to get engaged with us,  just as you are.  My sense is that enlisting all of you as footsoldiers is a sure way for us to grow an army of “NS”SF friends and supporters.  Like the beleaguered maids coming together in The Help you have that power.  To my surprise, I sense no need/desire to control whether you use it on our behalf or not. (See? Conversion is possible!) But, in case you do, I thank you in advance for your willingness to help sustain us and support our mission. 

Lastly, I hope to see all our Central Florida friends (and all of your friends as well) at 6.p.m. on Sunday October 2nd at Macedonia Missionary Baptist Church in Eatonville for our  ’Suitable Airs’ concert. (It’s the best introduction to “NS”SF that you can give a friend or relative for free.) Details are posted to the website. Please spread the word!

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

1973 was an unusually grim moment in an already dark season of pain and suffering for the people of Chile in Latin America:  The repressive tactics of brutal landowners, corrupt government officials and a military run amok had erupted  into the systematic torture and killing of poverty-stricken peasants who resisted, and anyone else in society who dared stand with them.  Bodies piled up like so much cord wood till they numbered in the tens of thousands.  It was, as my scholar friend Andrew Wimmer wrote to me a decade later, “an era of unmitigated guilt and shame.”   It was Andrew who urged me to research the socio-political circumstances that had brought about such horror. (He also challenged me to pay close attention to the work of Gustavo Gutierrez, Bishop Oscar Romero and other proponents of a liberation theology whose mission was to expose and decry these atrocities.)  Late one night, while thumbing through many pages of a report from a conference of the Catholic Bishops of Latin America that took place in November of 1973, I came across the transcript of the testimony from a group of Chilean Christians who described their country’s plight to the religious leaders in these terms; ” At present we are a people that knows only pain.  Still, we endure in darkness, with the stubborn certainty that some day a pure and free human being and human society will be born.”  I was then — and I remain — awestruck by the indication of hope resurgent in these few words.  The “stubborn certainty” we often find in poor, downtrodden persons strikes me as nothing but an expression of profound fidelity that neither runs away nor quits when faced with difficulty and distress.

These are tough times for all of us.  Together, as Americans and as a human family, we are enduring a dark period of economic blight.  The nonprofit sector is being buffeted right alongside the profit-making business community upon which we rely for our very existence.   Our Foundation suffers as well.  We struggle to advance the dollars promised as tuition grants-in-aid for a number of college students. We are hard-pressed to meet payroll, to honor our office lease agreement, to stay abreast of the staggering mountain of fees and charges we must pay for everything from financial audits, to insurances, to governmental fees and taxes, to office supplies and artist fees.  I indicated in last month’s blog that the Board of Directors and staff of our Foundation had set a revised strategic course for our operations in the 2011-2012 fiscal year now underway.  The new ways we are undertaking — and to which we must remain committed in this moment of economic darkness and for the near future –  will call for constancy and deep conviction.  Among the changes is an expansion of my job portfolio to include full-time responsibility for fundraising.  My new title with the organization is now that of Managing & Development Director.  Translation; more work, less pay.   There is much to do. But it is known that I am possessed of a stubborn streak  that tends to deepen and intensify when there is conflict or challenge.  (It is my blessing and a curse all at once.)  My stubbornness leads me to be certain that, with support from all our friends and patrons, a better and stronger  ”NS”SF will emerge from the clouded uncertainty of present grimness. 

Later this week, the homepage of our website will  unveil our 2011-2012 season calendar of programs and performance events.  Simultaneously, we will publish a detailed menu of the ways in which individuals and corporations can provide the underwriting dollars that will fund these activities for us, along with notice of a social mixer to encourage and solicit corporate investment in our mission being hosted by the  prestigious BROAD AND CASSEL law firm  in their downtown Orlando office on Tuesday, 30th August.  BROAD AND CASSEL holds a seat on our Board of Directors, and I am confident that many of you will respond to their invitation to enjoy tasty food, high-powered networking and community service at this free event.  My hopefulness finds support in the constancy of firms like BROAD AND CASSEL and our media partner BRIGHT HOUSE NETWORKS that continue helping our Central Florida arts community to endure in darkness.  Their commitment to shared values will surely hasten the day when the philanthropic impulse is even stronger than before.  On behalf of our entire “NS”SF family, I salute and thank them.

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare

It is my good fortune to have many wonderful friends who share my passion for spoken and written words.  One of them, John Soebbing, drives the distance to a smallish town midway between our homes to have dinner with me every other Tuesday so that we can sit together in a restaurant and gorge ourselves on rich thinking and savory wordplay while enjoying a good meal.  Our agreement is to spend two or three precious hours immersed in the pure pleasure of unvarnished, plain talk about only those things that matter deeply.  Between sips of lemonade and iced tea mixed together (me) or water with lemon added (John) we drink thirstily from wells of emotion, intellect, spirituality and the ordinariness of the human condition.  These meetings are a throwback to a past when, as a young cleric new to priestly ministry, I found myself accosted after mass (in the most gentle fashion imaginable) by an intensely thoughtful engineer of about the same age who had just suffered through a typically brash homily of mine from which he harvested more questions than answers.  Before a transfer for work moved John and his new bride away from Florida, his quiet coming forth was the start of a few short years of regular engagement that yielded what passed for feeble spiritual direction by me and very effective mentoring of me.  Now, their lives have turned a new page, opening onto a chapter that — most happily – brings John and Rebecca back into my world, if only for a time. I am nothing if not humbled with delight.

My friend Lucas Daniel Boyce has written and published his first book. Living Proof is a travelogue through the earliest years of a wonderful life that led a self-declared “unlikely candidate for success” from foster care to a gig as a White House staffer and to an executive position with an NBA franchise.  An introduction from my friend  (and Lucas’ boss) Linda Landman-Gonzalez led to a brief stint of serving with the “NS”SF Board of Directors for Lucas and, in turn, to the unforeseen bonding that left us calling each other “homie” in the uproariously humorous e-mails that fly between our desks from time to time.  Lucas and I carved three hours out of a recent workday to hang out and catch up.  He gave me a not-to-be-forgotten look at Orlando Magic operations, and a fascinating tour of the still spanking  Amway Centre that is their new house.  We ended our time together with lunch at a local eatery where we ate healthily and talked furiously.  Striding along the pavement on my way back to my car, I found myself humming with happiness while flipping through the autographed copy of Living Proof I had just been given, looking for items to refresh my appreciation of the book I had previously read.   Turning a page near the middle, my eyes alit on a sentence I recalled with immediate and sudden vividness “It’s apparent now that some times in life that bring us the most joy are preceded by the harshest; a confirmation that if something is really worthwhile, it will, more often than not, require sacrifice, set-backs, discouragement and an abiding faith — that in the end it will be better than all your planning.”  Thank you, Lucas. Friendship with you is such a wonderful tonic.

Today is the first of July. It signals the start of a new fiscal year for our Foundation; our sixteenth in existence.  Early in June our staff and Board of Directors met for a lively exchange of ideas and words intended to help us predict and plan the near future of an organization we all love passionately.  Thanks in large measure to the brashly energetic leadership of Board Chairman Mark Glover — himself (much as I) a man swift of tongue and voluble in language — we had arrived at a point where revised thinking and a shift of tactics suggested themselves to us.  With a series of votes, our Board turned a new page that promises to re-write our prospects for a period of growing revenues and expanded program activities.  The words spoken between us that day really mattered.  The words written into the record as motions to confirm their decisions really mattered.  As a matter of conscience, I give you my word that Darin, Edward, Celia and I will breathe life into the new themes and directions suggested by the outcomes of this most recent worshop.  A page has turned. You will see and feel a difference this coming year, I think.

In earnest,

(Fr.) Rudi Cleare