I was 8 days old when my grandmother Rev. Helen “Heili” Moore was ordained as an Episcopal priest at Trinity Church in Boston. Of the countless baptisms she’s performed, her very first was on me. Holidays were often spent watching my grandmother perform a sermon before breakfast. I have countless photos of her in a white robe; always paired with a perfect blowout. My grandfather, Tom “Papa” Moore, is also fiercely devoted to his faith. He works as the Executive Director for SIM; a scholarship organization with the goal of increasing the Episcopal ministry. His organization is currently the only one raising funds on a national basis for tuition for future ordained leaders. These schools can be really expensive, so this is a big deal.
When I walked into my grandparent’s Connecticut home this Thanksgiving, I was delightfully surprised to see them wearing safety pins on their sweaters. Anyone with even a minor social media addiction would know what this meant. After the election, people started wearing safety pins on their clothing to indicate their alliance with marginalized communities. My grandparents wanted people to know they were a safespace. Moments later, Heili announced that the two of them would be walking in the women’s march. I was speechless.
My grandparents, Helen “Heili” and Tom “Papa” Moore, are not your typical safety pin wearing liberals. They both grew up in the town of Lookout Mountain, Tennessee during Jim Crow. Today, many mainstream Republicans have been known to brand themselves as Christians. My grandparents are excellent examples as to why the Democratic way of thinking is more aligned with Jesus’s message than the conservative views shared by their political rivals.
After my November visit, I felt compelled to talk to my grandparents about their experiences as progressive trailblazers. At 45 minutes, it was definitely our longest phone call ever.
Mackenzie: Heili, You have been a minister for 24 years. In that time, do you feel you experienced sexism within the church?
Helen: Well, I wasn’t in the first wave of female priests, but I was in the second or third wave. I had two things going against me. For one, I was female. Secondly, I was southern. When I was in Boston [at Trinity Church] I was immediately tagged as a dumb southern blonde. I had the accent and the hair, so there you go.
There was definitely some prejudice and bias. Female rectors (who are the heads of the church) are paid less than their male counterparts. Male priests were automatically called “Father”, but nobody knew what to call me. I didn’t want to be called “Mother Helen.”
When I was working on the 9/11 Ground Zero site after the attack, firemen, police officers and construction workers were reluctant to accept me as a priest. However, at the end of my time there, a construction worker said to me, “Father, thank you so much.” I loved that!
Mackenzie: A lot of people use their Christianity as a reasoning behind their conservative views, how does your work as a priest impact your political beliefs?
Helen: Papa and I are progressive people, and that happens to be democrat. As a priest I care most about the marginalized and disenfranchised in this country. The Democratic Party has generally helped those who are cast out and lost along the way. I couldn’t be a Republican, especially now.
Mackenzie: How do you think we can bring more young people to God.
Helen: Every rector and priest in the Episcopal Church is asking the same question and looking for an answer. I believe that if we put out the message that God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are about helping ALL people and showing them God’s love, they would see the appeal. I’ve never been an institutional priest, but a priest of the people. I like to connect to people, regardless of their station of life. I serve the people more than I serve the institution, although I am very happy with the Episcopal Church and at [my current church] Saint John’s.
Mackenzie: Over Thanksgiving you said you’d be marching in the women’s march after the election, what made you decide to do this? Have you done anything like this before?
Helen: The election really shook us up, and we feel it’s time to take a stand. We will be two small people in a great big march. My clergy group is getting a bus together to go. In 1967 I worked on voter registration in Tennessee for African Americans. Due to Martin Luther King, there was a big movement to get African Americans registered. When I was very pregnant with my daughter Kendall, I went into a very depressed neighborhood in Chattanooga to work for voter registration. I didn’t tell anybody I was doing it, because I didn’t want to go through that “hoopla.”
Mackenzie: In one word, describe Donald Trump:
Helen:“Loose Cannon”
Tom: “Pompous”
Mackenzie: For as long as I can remember, you have had a framed photo of yourself with Hillary Clinton in your family room. What is the story behind that photo?
Helen: The photo was taken in early 2002. I was working at St. Paul’s Chapel in Ground Zero as a chaplain. I fixed the toilet, I fixed the stove. I didn’t know anything about this stuff, but somehow it got fixed. Hillary was a senator at the time and came to St. Paul’s to see how things were getting done. Photographers weren’t allowed, and she didn’t need the press to know she was there. She just wanted to see how things were going at the church, and I admire her for that. There were four widows of firemen and police officers. Hillary had a private session with them. Again, no photographers allowed. The church where I was serving at the time (St. Luke’s in Darien, Connecticut) wanted a picture of two strong women together. That is the story behind the photo.
Mackenzie: Both of you are from Tennessee. How were your political views shaped?
Tom: Both Heili and myself grew up with African American maids and yard men.
Helen: [My step father] was prejudice, anti black and anti-catholic. I got a sense of myself in the basement of my mother’s and stepfather’s house. I would come home from school and go down to the basement. There Mother’s “help” taught me the birds and bees; they taught me how to sing “swing low, sweet chariot” and they taught me how to blow smoke rings. The people who worked for us were so good to me, and I think that’s a small part as to why I am so fierce about racial relationships.
Tom: Big Tom (my great grandfather) was always a very active member of the Republican party. It was assumed that I would be as well. When I was around your age (23) I met Attorney General John Mitchell who became notorious. He didn’t ask me any questions but said “a budding young Republican, eh?” I remembered thinking “am I?”
Helen: We were some of the few Democrats on Lookout Mountain. My mother (my great-grandmother) became a Democrat when she moved to Connecticut from her lifelong residency in Chattanooga. She registered to vote at the age of 92 as a Democrat and voted for Barack Obama. She said “Oh if they could see me now in Tennessee. They wouldn’t know what to think! I can be in a blue state now.”
Tom: What influenced me was Heili. We married in 1973. The next election was in ‘74, when I voted for Gerald Ford and she voted for Jimmy Carter. By 1978 I was a voting Democrat. Our community of Lookout Mountain was 90% Republican, and probably still is. There were very few Democrats, but we felt kinship and were friends with the few of us in the minority.
Mackenzie: How have you witnessed racism first hand?
Tom: Growing up in Lookout Mountain, I had never heard the N word used in my family, but I did hear it said in a lot of other households. I didn’t think of them as being prejudice, but it was just life; it was very common to hear. Heili and I started off in a world where there were segregated bathrooms and water fountains. Black people sat in the back of the bus.
Helen: One time, when my sister from Connecticut (same father) came to Tennessee and we were at a train station. She excitedly went to a water fountain labeled “colored”. When she turned it on and it was just regular water, she said, “Heili! I thought it was going to be blue or green.” She was so upset.
Tom: It was 1970 and I was a Private for the Army National Guard in Fort Sill, OK [the best situation during a drafted Vietnam.] I had a car, so one weekend four of us decided to go to Dallas. We were all really excited, and kept talking about visiting the “Big D.” One guy from Oklahoma, another from New Jersey, one from Baltimore rode with me. The guy from Baltimore was black and was always reading books by Stokley Carmichael and Malcom X. I was confused as to why he was reading those authors who promoted violence.
When we got to Dallas, we asked around to find out the best places to go, and everyone told as a place called “The Cave.” When we walked there, a bouncer comes out and says, “Do you have reservations.” We were confused and said we did not. He told us it was such a popular place, we needed reservations. As we walked away, we looked over our shoulders and saw people going in, one after another. The bouncer was pretending to ask people if they had reservations. The people were confused saying, “Reservations? We have never needed reservations.” I turned towards my African American friend. He says “You see Tom? I want to be able to go to that club tonight. I don’t want to wait for my children or my grandchildren to be able to go there someday. This is why I read about black power.” Suddenly, I had an understanding of why people read Carmichael and Malcom X.
Mackenzie: How can we avoid making these mistakes in the future, what’s next?
Tom: This goes back to the question of “why march?” The language of the election and the now president elect was anything but “respecting the dignity of every human being.” My father was a staunch Republican, as was our community, but my family always respected the dignity of every human being. I remember my father’s letter to all his golf club members about how poorly they treated the people who worked at the golf club; demanding they treat them with respect.
We are all created equal in God’s eyes, and whether we are able or disabled, black or white, hetero, homosexual or transgendered–we are human beings, most of us striving to do the best we can every day. We weren’t born with hate in our hearts. Hate is taught. Somebody teaches you that you are better, in competition, or need to be more powerful than others.
Helen: I am very frightened by Trump’s election, and by the people he has invited to join his cabinet. In some cases they are known white supremacists. I hate that this is the world you had to grow up in.
Mackenzie: Papa, some men (even in 2017) have a hard time identifying as feminist? How have you come to adapt the label onto yourself?
Well, four daughters helped. I am a very strong believer in women’s rights and equal rights. I don’t like it when feminism is more than equal rights, such as a time when Heili went to divinity school, and the feminists kind of took over the seminary chapel and blocked men from entering. I don’t think men are the enemy, but I think their attitude can be the enemy. I believe in rights for my daughters and granddaughters, and even though I grew up without any female siblings, and my mother would be anything but a feminist, the dignity of women is important. The reason I wear a safety pin is found in the last vow of our church’s baptismal covenant: “strive for justice for all and respect the dignity of every human being.”
In this political climate, racism and gender inequality have been at the forefront of many of our conversations. To some of you, the conversation may feel exhausted– even anxiety inducing. Despite the uncertainty of the future of the United States (and world), nothing productive in society has happened without a force. If Hillary were elected, we’d feel more comfortable. The conversation would soften, and little would change. (Though, i’m confident our reproductive rights would have been protected.) Instead, a movement has been sparked. Now three generations of women are marching for women’s rights. I didn’t want to have to fight, but i’m willing to.
-Mackenzie
P.S Here is a list of the marches around the world. See you Saturday, NYC.
