conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

seersucker, leadership, and privilege

Now is the cool of the day
Now is the cool of the day
This earth is a garden,
the garden of my Lord
And he walks in his garden
In the cool of the day.
~ Jean Ritchie

When I was younger, I wanted to be one of those guys who wore seersucker suits. Not a dandy, per se, but someone comfortable enough in their own skin that they could wear something so playful. I also know that seersucker speaks of the Old South. Lord knows that association comes with serious baggage, and yet...I admire the culture that has a strain of laziness in it. Every rung of society knew how to sit and let the heat of the day dictate what would or would not happen. And the gentlemen would wear seersucker. One must look good when doing nothing.

Seersucker spoke (and may still speak) of privilege. It says that leaders sit and do little. It says that leaders are playful and even a little eccentric. Is there a place for such leadership in the world we live in? I cannot say, but I have been wondering lately. What is it that seersucker can teach us? Sabbath? Perhaps, but that's a little too easy. Maybe it's a reminder that we need to know when to sit. Maybe it can remind us that the heat of the day is not to be denied or ignored. We do so at our peril.

One of the first jobs I had was as a farm hand. That may be an exaggeration. I painted fence when I could. I helped a local farmer get up hay. I put in some barbed wire fence for my girlfriend's father. I even mucked stalls upon occasion. I did not live on a farm but many of my neighbors did and when I needed some extra pocket money I knew where to turn.

In the summers we would start early. Very early. The humidity and the heat would drive us inside by eleven or so. Then we were done until the next day. It was that simple. What did we do with the rest of the day? We sat and talked. We drank tea or a cola. I read a lot in the summers. Sure, there was air conditioning in our homes, but that wasn't going to help me put in the barbed wire fence. Now I live and work in the Chicago area. No one stops for weather here. Ever. It's a moral imperative in the same way that stopping for the weather was a moral imperative in Virginia.

Leadership, they say, is best understood by example. Speak all you like. Research all you like. But at some point the doing has to begin. So, is there a place for the seersucker? Is there a place for saying "It's hot out here, kids. Come inside for a bit and sit a spell. Would you like tea?"

I look at the world around me. I check my own internal anxiety barometer. I have been working in the heat of the day. I need the cool of the day. I need to be able to call my people inside where it's cool and offer them a place to sit and something that will refresh their souls...But I am not sure that I know the difference between the heat and the cool anymore. Maybe there is simply no way to escape the heat.

And so I swelter and try to look good.

Posted by tripp at February 3, 2010 10:00 AM