By Trevor

Rachel and I were paired for the Kentucky Kitchen Table Project, and we were accompanied by Madi and Allison from our section along with some of Madi’s family: parents Kim and Tim as well as cousin Nick. I had never spent any time with anyone around the table outside of class, so I had no clue what to expect when I arrived at the house.  I could make a pretty good guess at the political views of my classmates from the thoughts they shared in class, but the project allowed me to actually find out their stance and learn about the views of the three new faces.

Through our discussion I was able to confirm that Allison tends to lean left on most issues, while Rachel is a moderate.  Surprisingly, Madi and I have a very similar stance as we both consider ourselves Libertarians. Kim and Tim are strong conservatives, but Nick tries to avoid politics if he can. Even though this contradicts what most people what say is good citizenship, avoiding civic engagement is pretty common because of the complex nature of the political scene.

Nick was an interesting outlier from the group; while Allison, Madi, Rachel, and I are college students, and Kim and Tim are working adults, Nick is not in school and on his own at age nineteen.  While skipping out on college for a job is very common in my small Tennessee hometown, it was intriguing to learn from Nick about what it’s like.

Not everyone could form an answer of what citizenship meant to them beyond voting, paying taxes, and obeying the law. Tim joked that the question shouldn’t be so quick to assume he believes those three are required in his definition of citizenship.  However, he did add that he believes community involvement is essential to citizenship. This comment reminded me of the section of readings from Smart Communities with the Owensboro healthcare crisis, and the impact community involvement was able to make in that situation. Madi thought political literacy was important, as well as knowing the laws and the reasons they exist.

I wanted to make one point about citizenship regarding our obligation to others:  I think we aren’t always obligated to help others, rather our duty should be to avoid harming others.

When asked what type of community she wanted to live in, Allison responded by saying she wanted to live somewhere that it was easier to pay for her diabetic supplies.  Tim poked fun at the socialist agenda saying, “I want to live in the Bernie commune where everyone else can do the work, and I’ll reap the benefits.” While we agreed Allison, and everyone else, shouldn’t have to struggle to pay for health care, we also agreed socialism is not the way to go about it. Though Tim could benefit from a free healthcare system as he was blinded in one eye by a childhood accident, he was the largest opposition to socialism because he doesn’t deserve to be penalized for his hard work.

Now to the important part: the food.  It had been about a month before this project since I had eaten a home cooked meal.  The cuisine Madi’s family graciously supplied us with did not disappoint.  My favorite parts of the Kentucky Kitchen Table Project, aside from the invigorating discussion of course, were the burgers straight off the grill and the homemade macaroni and cheese.

By Rachel

My Kentucky kitchen table was hosted by another student in my class, Tori. I brought my roommate (also named Rachel), and we had dinner with Tori, her boyfriend Ian, and Ian’s friend Justin. We agreed to stick to snack type foods, and enjoyed chips and salsa and pigs in a blanket. Tori is a veterinary science major (and has a very cute cat and dog at her house!). Ian, her boyfriend, decided to go straight into the workforce after college, and had some interesting viewpoints on the differences between higher education and the alternate path that he chose. Rachel–my roommate– is a lesbian, and discussed with us some of her own struggles with her sexuality. Justin grew up in a fairly deprived background, and told us about his experiences with his bipolar disorder and receiving government assistance.

We talked about a lot of things, obviously, including citizenship, drugs, equality, and gender issues. While we all had a vague agreement on what it means to be a citizen–namely, don’t break the law or hurt other people–our varying backgrounds meant that we all had different specific views on how best to serve our community. Ian’s view seemed to be a more active one, in that he felt like you weren’t a good citizen unless you were actively doing good work in your community, while I felt that often citizenship can also be more passive, in the sense of minding your own business and allowing other people to have privacy. It was also interesting to me that the men were the ones who were more eager to bring up gender issues, and while the general consensus was that sexism is obviously an issue, Justin and Ian felt that there are still differences in what women and men are best suited for when looking for jobs and when serving their community. Justin’s background also meant he had much more experience with seeing the effects of drug abuse, so he was able to discuss the impact of these drugs that he’s seen.

I’m from Nebraska originally, so it was interesting to me to see the variety of experiences in Kentucky. The differences between the Midwest and the South came to the forefront when we discussed citizenship, I think. The South tends to be much more gregarious, which I think is why Kentucky people often see citizenship as involving an active engagement with other people. The Midwest is definitely much more closed off, and there’s often an attitude that other people’s lives aren’t really your business; while that sounds kind of bad, I also think that this kind of attitude is what contributed to Iowa, for instance, being one of the first states to legalize gay marriage. There’s a sense of “I don’t like what you’re doing, but it’s also not my place to tell you not to do it.” At the same time, I think this definitely could contribute to some of the passivity that we talked about in class, such as with the little Chinese girl who couldn’t get help.

Both sides have their pros and cons obviously, but it was interesting to me to see how the social attitude of the South contributed to Kentucky people’s views of citizenship. Obviously this relates to our own class’ discussion of citizenship, as there’s been a lot of argument over whether we have an active responsibility to do certain things. I can’t say whether there’s one right or wrong answer, but it was really interesting to see how these people of various backgrounds approached the issue.

by Rachel

My Kentucky Kitchen Table was hosted by Matthew, a local minister in Bowling Green, and his wife Ann. Besides myself, two other students, Corinne and Tanner, attended. Before this, I didn’t know any of the others, so I didn’t really know what to expect from our dinner. We got to the house and introduced ourselves to Matthew and Ann, and found that Tanner, Corrine, and I had more in common than we knew. We were all freshmen, and majoring in some kind of science (engineering, chemistry, and biology, respectively). We found out that Matthew and Ann had lived in Bowling Green for several years, after moving from North Carolina. Just as we were beginning to ask the obligatory questions about citizenship, there was a knock at the door. Matthew got up to answer it and said “Thelma’s here. She’ll probably introduce herself as Halle Berry.” From then on we knew our dinner was going to be very interesting. Thelma, as it turned out, was 89 years old, and one of the funniest people I have ever met. She had stories to tell about everything from growing up in Bowling Green to her trip to the 2008 presidential inauguration. As it turned out, we didn’t need to ask many questions; we learned everything we needed to about citizenship from listening to Thelma’s amazing stories.

Thelma did, in fact, introduce herself as Halle Berry, and from that point on the night and the conversation only got better. First, she talked about going to Washington D.C. for President Obama’s inauguration in 2008. She talked about standing outside in the cold to watch, and going on a tour of the White House afterwards. To me, the presidential inauguration stands out as a unique symbol of democracy. It bring together the entire nation regardless of race, gender, political affiliations, or anything else. This was the first time I had met someone who had experienced it in person, and hearing Thelma describe it reminded me of what a unique opportunity to participate in our country’s democracy she had.

As the dinner progressed (and we all enjoyed the amazing food Ann had made for us), we moved on to more serious topics, and Thelma opened up about her childhood. The table grew quiet as she discussed being abused as a child. It was clear as she talked that she still felt the emotional pain of that time. I may not personally be able to understand how she had to feel, but I wanted to. I wished I could have empathized in a better way, and done something to help heal these wounds that obviously still hurt so many years later. Thelma also talked about her experience as an African-American woman, and the ways she had experienced racism on a personal level. She talked about growing up in a time of racial segregation, and feeling that nothing was being done, that “that was just how it was.” Even today, she still felt the effects of racism as one of the only African-Americans members of the presbytery at her church. She described that she feels her race makes her stand out, that she feels like “the loneliest fly in the buttermilk.” I was reminded of the subtle ways that a serious problem like racism can sometimes present itself, and of a Zora Neale Hurston quote that Claudia Rankine used to describe the same feeling in Citizen: “I feel most colored when I am thrown against a sharp white background.” Listening to Thelma’s stories, I was amazed again and again by how much she had experienced, how difficult her life had been, and yet how happy she was. She said, when discussing racism “it never bothered me.” She had learned to live with some incredibly difficult situations, and yet, had keep the sense of humor that let her introduce herself as Halle Berry, and I admired her for it.

As I was writing this post, and reflecting on what I learned that night at Matthew and Ann’s kitchen table, I was reminded of a discussion we had in my seminar towards the beginning of the semester. We had just read an article titled The Empathy Exams, and were discussing whether empathy is natural. Can you learn to put yourself in others’ shoes and understand their pain, or is it something you’re born knowing how to do (or not)? The class consensus was somewhere in the middle, we all seemed to think it was a little bit of both. It was months later, listening to an 89 year old woman talk about everything she had experienced, that I finally understood what it means to learn empathy. I couldn’t fully understand Thelma’s stories of abuse and racism, but listening to her, I could get a sense of what she must have felt. As best I could, I put myself in her place, and tried to understand what she had been through, and how it had made her the amazing person that she is. While I still couldn’t perfectly understand her situation, I had some small grasp on how it felt. In this way, I learned to be a little bit more empathetic, simply by trying to be. I was reminded of all the things that others, particularly those who are older and more experienced, have to teach, if I am willing to listen. This was just one of many lessons I learned that night. I also met a group of great people, who I was glad to share dinner with.

By Tori

For my KKT project, I chose to find my own table and be assigned a partner. I hosted our dinner at my house in Bowling Green where we enjoyed a delicious platter of pigs-in-a-blanket along with chips and salsa and queso. Rachel was my assigned partner from class who revealed that she is originally from Nebraska, which was very interesting to learn about the differences between our two states. She invited her roommate, also named Rachel, to our dinner, who is a lesbian and who provided information as to the differences and difficulties of an alternative sexual orientation. I invited my boyfriend, Ian, to attend the dinner as well, who  is currently pursuing an alternative to college by entering straight into the workforce after high school and thus providing a different viewpoint of the system. In addition, Ian invited his friend, Justin, who grew up in a very poor community, receives government assistance each month, and has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Justin was able to illustrate the benefits of government programs and the experiences of living with a mental illness. Including myself,  a woman from a rural background and the child of divorced parents, that makes five at the dinner.

At our dinner, we discussed many hot-topic issues that are currently going on within our country, such as equal rights, the legalization of marijuana, and the importance of being an active citizen. With the differing genders, backgrounds, sexual orientations, political beliefs, etc. of the group, we had a variety of different viewpoints on the issue that helped spur discussion. For instance, when asked what it meant to be a citizen (beyond paying taxes and voting and so on) we each found it difficult to vocalize into words. However, Rachel said that part of being a citizen is just being a decent human being in general. Ian suggested that contributing to the betterment of society is also part of citizenship, and I said that helping out your fellow neighbors and citizens is also part of what it means to be a citizen.

From this experience, I learned a lot about the people I shared it with as individuals, about myself and my own beliefs that I had not previously thought of, and about my duty to society as a citizen. I learned that just because we all might not agree on a topic, it is still important to listen to the beliefs of others and not discredit them because it might also help you understand why you believe what you do. And I feel that it is this discussion that can potentially help us cross the bridge to where we want to be. By listening to differing ideas and viewpoints, we can come up with solutions to even the most wicked of problems. That is why I feel like public discussion and forums are so important to our democracy. The people need to have a voice in the way their society is, and they need to be heard.

By Tanner

I shared my Kentucky Kitchen Table experience with fellow students Rachel and Corinne on April 10, 2016.  A couple, whose names were Matthew and Anne, were gracious enough to invite us into their home, and allowed us to share a meal with them. None of us students had ever met Matthew or Anne before, who probably had no real reason to be especially excited about the evening ahead of them. It seems to me that having a dinner in your home, at your dinner table, invaded by three college students would not be the ideal way to relax after what must be the busiest day of the week in their household. Matthew is a pastor in Bowling Green, and this dinner happened to fall on a Sunday night. Upon meeting Matthew and Anne I could not help but notice the kindness that they share as a couple. They were not overly talkative, but Matthew especially had a dry sense of humor that kept the conversation lively, even when at first the conversation was mostly small talk. When we first arrived Anne was in the kitchen working hard on the meal we were about to enjoy. She volunteered to cook the entire meal herself and did not ask any of us to bring anything. This caused her to have to try and be in two places at once, hurrying from the living room to the kitchen, and back again as she simultaneously baked pie, cooked chicken, and got to know her guests.

As I said before, the other guests, besides me, were Corinne and Rachel, who are both our class Citizen and Self, though Rachel has the class at a different time than Corinne and I do. I knew Corinne very well before the night began. She was one of the first people I met when I arrived at WKU earlier this year. I knew that she would be just as social that night as she is all the time. She has a great personality, and is a good listener. I had never met Rachel before, but Corinne told me beforehand that she had had a biology class with her during the fall semester, and that she was very nice. When I did meet Rachel I could see that she was a little nervous, but she definitely opened up over the course of the evening. The biggest impression she left on me was her love for animals as she monopolized the attention of our host’s new puppy over the course of the evening.

We had probably been in Matthew and Anne’s home for about fifteen minutes when Matthew informed us that he was expecting one more guest. He informed us that an elder of another one of the local Presbyterian churches would be joining us for dinner. Matthew told us that her name was Thelma, and that she was an eighty-nine year old African-American women who was a big personality, and often introduced herself as Halle Berry. This description made me both nervous and excited. I had just begun to become comfortable in a stranger’s home, and now a new stranger was coming who was not even sure of their own identity. I had a feeling though that such a big personality would make the dinner more informative and entertaining.

Soon after Thelma arrived, I realized that my excitement and to some extent my nervousness were both warranted. One of the very first stories she told when she arrived was how she had gotten the opportunity to attend the inauguration of President Obama. The part of her story that really stood out to me was how she was very embarrassed during the event when a white man she was sitting next to wrapped her in his coat in an effort to make her more comfortable. What must have been to the gentleman a kind gesture extended to an elderly woman, was perceived by Thelma as a source of embarrassment. She said she was afraid how people watching the inauguration on television would perceive it. Here this was, a major event in the history of civil rights for African Americans, and she was being taken care of by a white man. She believed it clashed with the meaning of the event, which was that an African American was completely capable of leading the most powerful nation on earth.

No one else at the table, besides Thelma really spoke much over the course of the evening. This was not a bad thing though. You could tell that she loved the attention, and her stories were so vibrant because of her amazing memory that I was completely captivated by them. She spoke about what it was like growing up with an abusive stepfather. She told about her experience with racism. She apparently would be excluded from golfing scrambles because no one thought a black woman belonged in a country club. During these conversations everyone else at the table would get very quiet, but someone was always nodding in agreement as she talked. I think even Matthew and Anne were surprised by some of the stories that they may have never heard before.

These conversations really fit together well with the book “Citizen” that was discussed in the Citizen and Self seminars. She did not limit the conversation to just race. She dispelled some of my beliefs about what eighty-nine year olds are capable of when she told of how she still went in to schools for problem students to talk with them and be a role model. She also told about how she could make it to Louisville from Bowling Green in an hour. The fact that she still drove amazed me as did her memory and her sense of humor.

I am very grateful to Anne and Matthew for inviting me into their home and introducing me to Thelma. The discussions that we had at that table were so educational, and will be one of the first things I think about when I remember my freshman year at Western. In Citizen Self we read an article titled “Happiness” about what it really takes to be truly happy in life. I do not know what the answer is, but I think Thelma does, and I think everyone at that table had a lot to learn from someone who has overcome so much in life yet still has such a lively spirit in her twilight years.