Paula McGrew’s thoughts on her purpose upon retirement in August 2017.
We are the storytellers — called by our ancestors.
We revive their stories, put flesh on their bones and make them live again.
We breathe life into all who have gone before.
And, in doing so, we somehow find ourselves. (Anonymous)
How many times have I wished that I could tell them, “Your college is thriving. It is making a difference in the lives of students so that they can go out and make a difference in the world.”
How many times have I thought that the amazing faculty who is here today is a reflection of those who have gone before them? And yet, their memories are fading or disappearing altogether. As will ours in time unless someone tells our stories.
And so this work calls to me.
It goes beyond documenting facts. It goes to who I am and what I do. It goes to pride in what our WVWC ancestors were able to accomplish, and how they contributed mightily to what we are today.
It goes beyond calling out their names. It goes to telling about who they were and what they did.
It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up.
It goes to the dreams that they had for this college, and those who would come after them (for us).
It goes to who they were and the kinds of decisions that they made. The paths that they chose.
It goes to celebrating the great times, and learning from the hard ones.
It goes to caring about and collecting their stories. Organizing and preserving them. And sharing them.
Because, as noted by Natalie Sleeth in the Hymn of Promise, “From the past will come the future, what it holds a mystery. Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.”
So, as a scribe called, I tell the stories of my WVWC family in hopes that these stories will call young and old to step up and restore the memories of our Home Among the Hills, or to learn them for the first time.