Chapter 5: New Slant

Carolyn Pierce felt she was in a race with herself. Which would she produce first, a child or a dissertation? It was a race she was losing, which meant -- in some sense -- that she was winning it, too. But she definitely would prefer to produce the dissertation first, and it didn’t look like she would. For one thing, once a dissertation was finished, it was quite finished. You needn’t feed it or diaper it. She had no illusions that the baby would be so simple. Anyway, the dissertation was coming along slowly. She was still struggling with the first draft, and she was clear that there would be others.

She’d already limited herself. The locations of bookstores in Chicago had changed to the bookstores in a Northern section of Chicago. With that limitation approved, she had been able to finish the interview section of her research. The library research had been less trouble. Arranging all that information so that it both made sense and could be comprehended by a reader was the current struggle. And, as her pregnancy advanced, she was not only moving more slowly, she was thinking more slowly.

The rest of the world didn’t stop because she was concentrating on two things, either. She was still assistant-teaching one course, and she was still attending Aldersgate UMC. The last got her a call from Judy Grant.

“You’re a member of the UMW, aren’t you?”

“Sorta. Gladys had me fill out a membership app and pay the dues. I’m not really planning to attend until I’m slimmer.”

“Hah! You think you’ll have more time after the delivery. Really, they’re less trouble -- hard as that is to believe now -- when they’re inside you. Anyway, don’t tell Gladys...” She didn’t like the sound of that, but she kept her silence. After a moment, Judy went on.

“You, of all people, should remember the brouhaha over the last rummage sale.”

“Well, I’m married to the man who started it.”

“Bill didn’t really start it. He just refused to roll over. Well, some of us are getting a little tired. The group needs new blood at the top, and won’t get it until some new people attend, which won’t happen as long as it’s the same old - same old, which won’t change until we get some new blood at the top.”

“You make it sound hopeless.”

“It nearly is, but not quite. The executive committee is the four officers, president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer. They move up the chairs. Only death, and maybe not that, can keep this year’s treasurer from becoming next year’s secretary. And so forth. Well, some of us want to elect Gladys as treasurer. Otherwise, it will be Grace Benton, and nothing will change. Enough of us with formal membership attending the meeting can elect her. Gladys has ideas. Not that Grace doesn’t, just that Grace’s ideas are the center of the problem. Can we count on you? And don’t tell Gladys.”

“Seems a nasty trick on her.”

“Well, she’ll do the job if she’s elected. She needs to be able to say that she’s as surprised as anybody, which will be true. Can we count on you? Saturday at 6:30.”

“All right. I’ll try.”

And she made it. The meeting started with a reading of the minutes of the last meeting. The business of the UMW seemed to be conducting meetings to report and vote on conducting the last and next meeting. There was a devotional, which consisted of one woman reading from a booklet in a monotone. All this time, women were looking at the new attendees. They elected a president, vice president -- who was asked to continue taking minutes for this meeting only, and a secretary with only one nomination each.

“Are there nominations for Treasurer?” Jane Wiggins, the new president asked.

“I nominate Gladys Hagopian,” Judy said in a louder, clearer voice than most of the previous speakers had used. There were murmurs seconding it.

“Other nominations?” Jane looked right at Beverly Trueblood.

“I nominate Grace Benton.” Several people looked like they were counting the likely votes on their fingers. But Grace got up.

“Grace Benton declines.” She looked around the room. “You women think you’ve done something special. Well, I know Gladys. She’ll do the work. But that won’t mean much if you go home and forget this. If you really want to support her, you should attend more meetings than once a year.” She sat down. Gladys was elected by the same unanimous vote and joined the other officers at the head table.

Well, the others could support Gladys or -- if they chose -- not support Gladys. That meeting had been too long sitting in one position. The baby told her so. She seemed to be kicking in all directions at once.