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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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Sister Alice Gerdeman(left)
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Dec. 2 was a red-letter day in 1999. With tear gas flying in the streets of Seattle, Americans came face to face with the complex issue of world trade, most for the first time. It wasn't a pretty sight. Protesters blocked the streets of Seattle to disrupt the World Trade Organization (WTO) meeting. Police clashed with youths looting downtown stores. Trade representatives from Third World countries couldn't find their way into high-level negotiations, where their economic fates were being discussed.
The media covering the riots beamed images into living rooms across the United States -- pictures of violence, over-the-top police reactions and general chaos, as well as pictures of a diverse group of people protesting the WTO's own brand of economic injustice and environmental negligence in the name of corporate profits.
Back in Cincinnati, a handful of people familiar with world trade issues knew something more than tear gas was in the air. In a show of solidarity with their fellow activists in Seattle, several dozen Cincinnatians protested against the WTO the next day outside of the Federal Building downtown.
The mood at the Dec. 3 rally was different than other protests, remembers Sister Alice Gerdeman, one of the event's organizers.
"There was more of a sense of dedication that day," Sr. Gerdeman says. "There was an awareness that there's something bigger going on than just us."
For the first time in years, perhaps for the first time in a generation, Americans of all political and social stripes stood together to demand that their government, and all governments, address their grievances. For one day, tens of thousands of ordinary people became activists -- while millions more cheered them on vicariously.
The next day, most Americans went back to their own lives and the media's crisis of the day.
Sr. Gerdeman, though, went back to working on solving the knot of social, political and economic issues that continues to burden people in Cincinnati, in the United States and around the world. It's what she does seven days a week, 365 days a year.
As director of the Intercommunity Justice and Peace Center in Over-the-Rhine, Sr. Gerdeman focuses her considerable energies on a wide array of topics -- from the death penalty to the environment, from welfare reform to world trade, from neighborhood kids playing softball to Kosovo families looking for refuge from war.
Despite all indications, she says, her life's work is relatively simple, boiling down to one main concept: justice. Economic justice, political justice, racial justice, legal justice, social justice -- it's all about respecting the scaredness of human life, she says.
A Catholic nun, Sr. Gerdeman bases her work on theological ideals. Unlike the stereotype of a nun, she is street-smart, realistic, connected. She operates in a world that's secular for the most part, and she understands it.
Colleagues know Sr. Gerdeman as consistently hopeful about the world she struggles to make better. Students know her as someone who talks the talk and walks the walk. Cincinnatians know her as the petite woman with the bullhorn at various public rallies around town.
But more and more, especially in the wake of Seattle's WTO experience, people are tuning in to Sr. Gerdeman's message that individuals can and must make a difference -- whether in their neighborhood or on the other side of the world.
At the dawn of a new century, as powerful negative forces converge in the United States -- cynical politics, increased violence, corporate consolidation, desensitizing media, greed -- Sr. Gerdeman stands out as a beacon of life. Particularly in Cincinnati, where such beacons tend to be ignored or, at best, grudgingly tolerated.
For her efforts, her humility and her hope, Sr. Alice Gerdeman is CityBeat's 1999 Person of the Year.
The Path of Peace
A few months after the WTO protest, Sr. Gerdeman describes herself and her fellow activists as having awakened from a dream, both literally and figuratively.
"It's a groggy time now, like you've just woken up," she says in her office at Over-the-Rhine's Peaslee Community Center. "We're wandering around wondering what to do next. We're all trying to figure out how to organize groups around the world to get governments and companies to care about people and not just profit."
There's a window of opportunity now, she suggests, to push people's interest in world trade and the WTO toward action. Seattle could turn out to be a turning point in her campaign for economic justice, or it could end up another blip on a distracted public's radar screen.
"The Seattle meeting came and went, but world trade is here to stay," Sr. Gerdeman says. "Outside of the U.S., everyone knew about free trade issues, but Americans were ignorant. Seattle put the issue in front of Americans for first time. The genie is out of the bottle."
To her, the issue is how corporations and governments can regulate more open trade while reinforcing basic human rights such as a livable wage, decent working conditions and more concern for family structures (fewer mothers and children working). Free trade is coming -- how can it be otherwise, she asks, when the world's richest nations and largest corporations demand it -- but why can't people be fit into the trade equation?
"Many Americans think free trade will ruin everything, but I don't subscribe to that," Sr. Gerdeman says. "Change can actually be for the better. In the United States, we used to have sweatshops too, and we changed. That time wasn't our finest hour, so why allow sweatshops in Indonesia and elsewhere? Why not learn from our mistakes and make things better for other, less-developed countries?"
Learning from past mistakes was a theme of Sr. Gerdeman's other high-profile protest effort in 1999: the war in Kosovo. The U.S.-led bombing raids against Serbian occupiers in Kosovo accomplished nothing, she says -- at least nothing positive.
After months of heavy bombing, she says, Slobodan Milosevic remains in power, the Western allies have not stabilized the political mess in the Balkans and Kosovo has been ravaged. The people hurt most in the war, she reasons, are the ones we tried to save -- the Kosovars.
"What bothers me the most is that the U.S. government thinks it has all the answers, that the American answer is the right answer," Sr. Gerdeman says. "But we're wrong. Either we don't know the real problem in the Balkans or we don't have the cultural experience to understand the situation."
She likens the war to the ongoing U.S. military efforts against Iraq, where Saddam Hussein remains in power while his country -- and its people -- has been bombed, starved and isolated.
"Our plan to bomb Iraq into submission hasn't worked," she says. "The people at the bottom of society there are the ones who have suffered the most. It's always that way."
One of Sr. Gerdeman's core messages -- closely linked to her training in the Catholic Church -- is that peace always is better than violence, that violence never works as a deterrent to violence, that light always defeats darkness. It's a lesson, she says, that government leaders never seem to learn.
ŒBig Time Role Model,¹ ŒConsistent Source of Hope¹
From all appearances, Sr. Gerdeman doesn't seem like your prototypical rabble-rouser. She's small in stature, soft-spoken, humble to a fault.
Born and raised in a small farming community in northwestern Ohio, she came to Greater Cincinnati as a teen-age boarding student with the Sisters of Divine Providence in Melbourne, Ky. Forty years later, she still lives in the motherhouse off of I-275 near the Ohio River.
She trained to be an elementary school teacher, a profession that many in her community took up. After a teaching stint in Maryland, she returned to the Tristate to teach at Catholic grade schools in Newport and Dayton, Ky.
Sr. Gerdeman might still be a teacher today, she says, if not for a calling that came her way in 1980. The Sisters of Divine Providence began looking at justice issues locally and worldwide, thinking the community could make a difference ministering to those neglected and disadvantaged.
Sr. Gerdeman was sent to New York City for a year to learn about justice issues and come back and teach others in her community.
Around the same time, the Intercommunity Justice and Peace Center was established by five area religious communities to minister to the poor in Greater Cincinnati. It was housed in the 1980s at St. Francis Seraph Church in Over-the-Rhine, before establishing its current office at Peaslee Community Center 10 years ago.
Seventeen area religious organizations now run the Intercommunity Justice and Peace Center -- from 11 different orders of nuns to Cincinnati Mennonite Fellowship and the New Jerusalem Community. When the Sisters of Divine Providence joined the center's support organization in 1991, Sr. Gerdeman became its director.
The center has a staff of four, though Sr. Gerdeman is its only full-time employee. She and Sister Ruth Kuhn focus on national and international issues, while Sister Monica McGloin and Eunice Timoney-Ravenna work on local issues like welfare reform and supporting the Drop Inn Center. They all work together on issues that cross geographic lines, such as the death penalty.
That's a lot of space to cover -- particularly when the companies and governments targeted for their unjust activities are much better staffed and funded.
"We have such a small staff, we can't afford to duplicate work," Sr. Gerdeman says. "If other people are working on specific issues, we will support them and help them, but we try not to duplicate their efforts."
Sr. Gerdeman has learned to work with like-minded groups throughout the area to raise awareness for justice issues. Her dedication to those causes, say colleagues, is infectious.
"She's always been a consistent and compassionate voice for the poor and oppressed here and around the world," says Steve Schumacher, director of the Alliance for Leadership and Interconnection in Walnut Hills.
His organization currently is working with Sr. Gerdeman's center and other local groups to host a teach-in to find strategies for international solidarity, economic alternatives and grassroots democratic control. The event is scheduled for April 28-29.
Schumacher calls Sr. Gerdeman a "very consistent source of hope" for him and anyone else struggling for justice against long odds.
"She is one of the best examples of what Catholic ministry is all about," he says. "I appreciate her sense of humor -- not just her wit, but her wisdom, which is very hopeful. There's a lot of exploitation going on out there, and sometimes it's easy to lose hope that things will ever get better."
Father Ben Urmston, director of peace and justice programs at Xavier University, sees first-hand how Sr. Gerdeman's hope influences his students, some of whom spend an "inner city semester" working with the Intercommunity Justice and Peace Center.
"She lives it every day," Fr. Urmston says, "and does it cheerfully. It's a grace that she can work against seemingly insurmountable odds and obstacles."
Since taking over as center director, Sr. Gerdeman has co-hosted Fr. Urmston's program Faith and Justice Forum on WVXU-FM (Sundays at 8:30 p.m.). She also teaches theology at the school. But her biggest impact on the Xavier community, Fr. Urmston says, is her own life and her work.
"We have a responsibility to help each other," he says. "Students can't really get that from a book. But when they see Alice working so hard for justice for others, they understand what they must do."
"She's a role model big time," says Kristen Barker, a Xavier senior who has worked with Sr. Gerdeman for a year as part of a service fellowship. "It's hard to be around her for any time without being inspired that the world can be changed and that it's up to you."
Sr. Gerdeman savors the time she spends with young people seeking to learn about justice issues -- not just Xavier students, but students from the University of Cincinnati, Northern Kentucky University and elsewhere. Despite the generally accepted image of a slacker GenX or Generation Y, the young people she encounters want to make a difference in their communities.
"Their goals aren't just economic -- jobs, money, careers," she says. "They want to get involved. They have a vision for the future, and they're willing to make an economic sacrifice now while they're young."
Their enthusiasm is one of her main sources of hope, she says.
One Woman Against the World
Being a social activist in Cincinnati presents its own set of problems. The city isn't known as a hotbed of protest -- although many well-known activists, from the late Rev. Maurice McCracken to the Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, hail from here.
Cincinnatians tend to get uncomfortable, Sr. Gerdeman says, when they encounter a small circle of protesters marching in a picket line near the Federal Building or Chiquita Brands International's headquarters. They'll politely step around the picketers, accept a flyer and move on; at least they don't heckle.
But it's not as bad as you'd think, Sr. Gerdeman says.
"There are a lot of closet thinkers here," she says. "Quiet supporters. Often people will ask questions when we're on the street doing protests. They'll take our information. It's not a negative experience in general."
Cincinnatians should be more interested in global issues like world trade, Kosovo and banana workers in Central America, Sr. Gerdeman believes, because some of the city's most prominent corporations have a worldwide presence. Procter & Gamble and Chiquita, for instance, operate around the world, and their employees here track developments on every continent. Why doesn't that business interest translate into interest in global social issues, she wonders.
"You'd think these international businesses would open Cincinnati's eyes to international issues," she says. "But people here tend to be insular and not interested in outside issues. Americans, in general, are like that."
Still, she says, Cincinnatians turn out for events when a particular issue hits home. It's difficult to predict.
"With Kosovo and the death penalty, we'd call meetings and plenty of people would show up who I didn't know," she says. "For the most part, people are interested in one issue and they show up to get more information or to help, but that's all they do. Interest in the death penalty doesn't automatically translate to interest in world trade. Maybe they get involved in something later, maybe not."
The death penalty is an issue that should attract more attention in the coming year, Sr. Gerdeman says, and not for good reasons. She figures it could become a key issue in the 2000 presidential election, especially if Texas Gov. George W. Bush is the Republican nominee -- under Bush, Texas has executed more prisoners than many nations.
In addition, she says, as many as 10 prisoners in Ohio might be executed in the coming year.
"Bush says he's just doing what the people of Texas want, but he's not willing to stand up and lead or to look into the issue with any depth at all," Sr. Gerdeman says. "There are people in Ohio now on their final appeals, and I don't want to rush the appeal process. It's very frightening. I've met with many prisoners on death row and studied their cases. In most cases, society gave up on them a long time ago."
That's the crux of her argument against the death penalty, she says: Society must shoulder some of the responsibility for creating an atmosphere in which people find murder as their only recourse. Violence begets violence, she says, which then is punished with even more violence -- the death penalty.
"We've decided to kill these people, which isn't setting up a good role model for our society," Sr. Gerdeman says, shaking her head. "We've officially said that killing under certain circumstances is OK. What does that say to people?"
Similarly, Sr. Gerdeman believes the continued rosy news about the American economy presents a false image to people. The U.S. gross national product might be improving and prosperity might be trickling down to most citizens, but, she says, many Americans still can't get ahead.
"People work hard and still can't support a family, while others have more money than they know what to do with," she says. "It's not right. We should find a way to share more equally. And we have to get over the misconception thrust on us that higher wages equal less competitive businesses. If people earn more money, they won't have to impose on society for other needs -- welfare, Medicare, etc. -- and won't have to work three jobs while putting their kids in day care.
"It all can equal out in the big picture. It's very doable. That's the standard of economic justice we should strive for -- to have economic stability and still have a positive influence on our kids."
When asked about other issues she'll be following in 2000, Sr. Gerdeman rattles off a long list: renewed Congressional push for a U.S. missile defense system ("stupid, doesn't work"); education ("quit blaming teachers"); immigration ("people need a boost when they're newcomers"); public housing ("the Liberty Hill and Banks proposals are using public funds, so why isn't there a mix of housing types proposed?"); Over-the-Rhine ("a very valuable community that keeps getting dumped on"); and Central America banana workers ("lost everything to Hurricane Mitch, so negotiations with Chiquita are on hold").
Not only are many of these issues difficult to truly affect, they're difficult to comprehend, she says. She understands when people throw up their hands in frustration and ask what one person in Cincinnati can do about systematic, worldwide injustice.
She doesn't have any answers, she says, other than what she knows in her heart. If not me, then who, she asks. If not now, then when?
"It's easier to stand up for innocent life, for instance, as with the abortion issue," Sr. Gerdeman says. "It's harder to stand up for the guilty, as with the death penalty. But Christianity is about protecting life, period.
"Jesus went among the lepers, and they were better for it. As Christians, we should bring goodness to evil, light to the darkness. Good is more powerful. That's what it's all about." ©
This is the second year CityBeat has selected a Greater Cincinnati Person of the Year. The 1998 honorees were the group of local citizens who created and backed the grass-roots movement to build the new Reds stadium at Broadway Commons.
