“It takes a village,” or in my case half the world, to write a book. From the early days, when all I had were Elizabeth’s letters from the National Woman’s Party, my plan was to share her story. And friends, family, and random connections were wonderfully, enthusiastically supportive.
Thank you, with gratitude and appreciation, to everyone named here – and those unnamed as well!
- My Mom, Shirley Morrow Marshall, and sister, Annabel Baer, for rescuing Elizabeth’s papers from a deteriorating building on the farm, long after she had passed.
- My sister, Mira Marshall, for long conversations about Elizabeth and sharing resources and support over many years.
- Stella Livingston, for prodding me to look from different angles — and sharing coffee and biscuits!
- Mary Parker, for providing thoughtful insights.
- M.A.R. and L.C. for providing a private office for several months.
- Wendy Gradison and Lee Goldman for several weeks of wonderful focus in the mountains.
- Susan and Rick Heffner, for reviewing early drafts.
- John DeFerrari, for encouragement and advice.
- Gordon Baer and Jacki Garry for thoughtful reviews.
- W(h)ine & Dine Club, for keeping me moving forward.
- Shannon Steene and Karen Jupiter for hosting book events
- The staff of the Library of Congress and of libraries across the US who helped me access materials related to Elizabeth and her work.
Special thanks to Karen Ching Silva and Jennifer Watson for providing fresh insights into the life of Elizabeth and her family. And for their support of this project.
To my husband and son, who provide laughter, tech support and constant encouragement: you’re the best!
While they never knew about this book, my greatest appreciation and thanks go to people who helped me understand race and privilege in America. This was critical to building a more accurate picture of Elizabeth and the world around her.
My parents brought us up ‘color blind.’ Dad was an anthropologist who taught us to accept and respect people regardless of racial or cultural differences. Our differences were interesting and not frightening. Mom was a ‘rare bird’ who saw and accepted people as simply people, welcoming all. As my sister said, Dad taught us the academics of it and Mom showed us the living of it.
Entering elementary school in Virginia exposed me for the first time to racist language. My favorite and best teacher was Mrs. (Winnie) Burchette. Not until years later did I realize that she was the first African American teacher in that school — and suffered associated harassment. Yet she was never anything but loving, creative and focused on promoting every child’s potential.
At the time, of course, I did not understand the dynamics of group or structural racism. But the openness and equality taught by my parents and my teacher enabled me later to ‘hear’ when people talked about the bigger picture of racial dynamics and oppression in the US.
In that regard, special thanks to Cornbread Givens, Ambrose Lane, and Myra Stafford. Each was a mentor and teacher, challenging me in different ways to see the difference between those with and without privilege, as well as the possibilities for a different future. None of them owed me that education, which makes me all the more grateful for their kindness and friendship.
Eye-Witness History 