At last! The Life of Isabel Crawford: More Than I Asked For has been published. My head has been spinning these last few weeks. First came page proofs to check. Then came the corrected proofs to check. Then came the corrections of the corrections!
After that came the index. I’d previously indexed four books, and before that I’d worked part time for twelve years indexing a small part of a Canadian Methodist newspaper. I know how to do it, but each time brings fresh, new questions. Should I include these place names? these people? This is important, but what subject heading would help somebody find it? And all the time you’re working, you know that most of the index entries are never going to be used . . . but there’s no way to tell which ones will actually help someone. So you keep at it.
And then, of course, you have to check it, entry by entry, page number by page number. And how long does the subject continue? Should the entry be for one page, two, or several?
But wait! You can’t finish the index until you see the final page proofs, to make sure there’s been no change in the pagination. Fortunately for me, everything had stayed the same, and I could send off the index, hoping that my intentions would be clear to the typesetter. Then there’s a magic moment – or at least there was for me – when you see the page proofs of the index, not the ragged-looking list you sent, but all the subheadings and the overflowing lines indented. It looks like a real book!
Then traditionally comes a wait. But with today’s “print on demand” publishing – and with the publisher knowing that you’re hoping against hope to have copies at an event where you’ll be speaking – the final check of my page proofs was followed very quickly by the news that “it’s gone into production”! The first copies are off the press, my order of copies for the meeting is in production, and if all goes as it should, I will see the book for the first time at the meeting in a little more than a week. I hope that by then I’ll have recovered from the flurry of activity during these last weeks. But of course it was worth every bit of the effort.
At the recent meeting of the American Society of Church History, in Minneapolis, I presented a paper and chaired a session. My husband and I went on two excellent church tours, one within the Twin Cities, the other to St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville. And as usual I attended the Women in Theology and Church History breakfast, always a great occasion for sharing and support.
One other aspect of the meeting stands out: I had conversations with two independent scholars. It’s a term you may never have heard; it seemed strange to me, and it took me a while to be comfortable using it to identify myself. What are independent scholars? According to one definition, they are people who “are actively carrying out work of scholarly merit,” but their research is not supported by an institution. Many of us write articles, present papers at scholar meetings, and write books just like our counterparts in academia, but we do it on our own. No, that’s not quite right. We do it with the help of grants and short-term contracts for which we apply or while working full or part time at some other occupation. When we are fortunate, we do it with the support of family and friends and with the encouragement of other scholars, both independent and employed in their academic fields.
The economic challenges are obvious, but there are others. Among them are gaining access to library and restricted online resources; getting our work taken seriously when we have no institutional identity; and simply keeping motivated to work when no institution is prodding us by the requirements it places on us.
As I pondered this, I remembered something I presented years ago in my presidential address to the Canadian Society of Church History. It is titled “Adjusting the Sails: Reflections of an Independent Scholar.” In it I tell of my journey, one that certainly did not follow the path I intended. I had to adjust my sails not once but many times. And yet my life course has been satisfying, even more so now than when I wrote the address.
I invite you to read what I wrote. My own story begins at the bottom of page 168 (the second page of this document) and continues to page 171. Then for a while I reflect on my journey before I make some suggestions to my colleagues.
Whiteley CSCH address
And I invite you to think about the course of your own life. Are you still on the path that you anticipated? Or have you, too, needed to adjust the sails? I’d like to hear from you about it.
My publisher has sent out copies of my book to advance readers, and one has sent me a copy of what he wrote after reading it. I was honoured that such a noted American church historian agreed to be one of the readers, and I’m delighted with his blurb. “Blinkered” is a perfect description of how Isabel Crawford was at times. These times were painful for me to read about in her journals and painful to include in the biography, but of course I had to give a full and honest picture of this “compelling” woman.
In this fast-paced account of the career of Isabel Crawford, Whietley brings to life a largely forgotten but remarkably compelling Canadian-American Baptist missionary to the Kiowa Indians in the Oklahoma Territory at the turn of the 20th century. Crawford emerges as a courageous—though often feisty and sometimes blinkered—woman whose determination to proclaim the gospel marched with determination to fight for the preservation of Kiowa culture. Her story is at once inspiring, sobering, and altogether beautiful.
Grant Wacker, Gilbert T. Rowe Professor of Christian History, Duke Divinity School
- Marilyn Whiteley and Sharon Bowler at the meeting of the Canadian Baptist Historical Society
This morning Sharon Bowler and I made presentations at the annual meeting of the Canadian Baptist Historical Society. Sharon is editing a book to be titled Baptists and Women, to be published next year. I am delighted to be one of the authors contributing chapters. More than twenty years ago, when Elizabeth Gillan Muir and I were editing Changing Roles of Women within the Christian Church in Canada, we regretted a lack of scholarship on Canadian Baptist women, though we were able to include one excellent essay. I am pleased that the situation has changed and that Sharon has found authors to write about a wide spectrum of topics within that general area.
Sharon spoke this morning about tangential research. It allows for “meaningful straying” from one’s major research goal. How many of us, involved in historical research, have some side issues that beg for investigation? We are often well rewarded when we have – or make – the opportunity to follow up on the tangent.
All my writing about Isabel Crawford has been something of a tangent, since my main research has focused on Canadian Methodist women, and Crawford was a Baptist. My presentation this morning was a further small tangent. My chapter is titled “Crossing Boundaries: The Mission of Isabel Crawford.” I could have simply summarized the chapter or read part of it, but I wanted to do something fresh by expanding on one of its themes.
Crawford was born in Canada and spent her final years in the land of her birth. However, from 1891 until 1942 she studied, then worked, then retired, in the United States. In 1900 she became a United States citizen. And although she died in Canada, she had made arrangements for her body to be returned to her Oklahoma mission for burial. Her grave marker in the Kiowa cemetery at Saddle Mountain bears the statement, “I Dwell Among Mine Own People.” So today I took the opportunity to explore in her writings her feelings about the “two flags” that she had come to love.
There are more papers to come and more tangents to explore, and for me that is what makes my life as a historian and writer so rewarding.
Finally things have settled down enough so that I am beginning to read Phyllis Airhart’s history of the United Church of Canada, “A Church with the Soul of a Nation.” I found the first part of it painful reading, even though Airhart handled it very well, because it is about the process of founding the United Church, with all that conflict and divisions that that entailed. That is part of the story.
Although it’s very different, I was reminded of when I was writing about some of bitter actions after she felt that she was forced to leave her beloved mission at Saddle Mountain, Oklahoma. I was somewhat horrified at a couple of things she did; they didn’t measure up to her usual behaviour. But they were part of the story, and of course I had to include them in order to give a complete and honest account.
Airhart couldn’t omit the conflict recorded in those chapters, but authors probably sometimes do give in to the temptation to leave out difficult matters. What do you think?