I FIRST MET Mary-Ann Kirkby in 1999 when she spoke at a women’s conference that I helped to organize, called Women Connecting Women. Her description of life on a Hutterite colony held us spellbound, as did her bittersweet recounting of leaving the colony and integrating into a new culture. Most compelling was the point of view of her story: the voice of an eager, joyful, but sometimes confused and frightened ten-year-old girl seeking acceptance. “To the outside world,” she said, “we were Hutterites and we were different.” Even as a journalist, she kept her past hidden, reluctant to reveal her cultural heritage and open up the old scars of prejudice and suspicion.
The delegates were so moved by her story that they encouraged her to write more.
And so she did.
Her manuscript has been seven years in the making, but like an archaeological dig, this was not a story to be hurried. I joined her in a hunt for a history that was several layers deep, where fragments would reveal themselves in their own good time. Often, when we hit a dead end or a snag, someone would unexpectedly come forward with a photograph or letter that had been tucked away in a bottom cupboard or offer up a memory from long ago.
Occasionally, Mary-Ann would take me to a Hutterite colony. I had often seen the Hutterites shopping in local big-box stores, sitting in a reception room at a hospital, or selling fresh produce at the farmer’s market. Their unassuming demeanor and old-fashioned way of dress made me believe they were a shy and retiring people, but I quickly learned that on their home turf, their lives were as colorful and complex as those in the “English” world. In the big community kitchen at the Fairholme colony, I envied the head cook’s fully stocked larder and industrial appliances, yet we were able to commiserate about the difficulty of keeping menus varied and which recipe for date squares provided the best flavor. Sometimes, we would time our visits for afternoon Lunschen at New Rosedale, and while we waited for the teakettle to boil, we would devour a plate of freshly baked buns and discuss education and politics. Each time I met with wise elders content with a life well lived, or saw their young people’s artwork or heard their exquisite choirs, I began to understand why Mary-Ann’s decision to share her story carried a heavy burden: her narrative would not only unravel her past; it would provide unique insight into the hearts and minds of Hutterite people.
Confronting the past has not always been easy for Mary-Ann, but in the end, her reward is a better understanding of who she is today. Her achingly poignant narrative is a balm to anyone who has faced ridicule and rejection, underscoring that who we are comes not from the clothes we wear or the songs we sing or the company we keep, but from a place deep within our souls.
I once believed that when the book was complete, the work would be over, but I now know the real opportunity for transformation lies ahead. When Jacob Hutter forged the Hutterite Church, his vision included a world without violence, where all things were shared; my hope is that this book will remind us that we are all part of the human family and that true harmony can be achieved with love, acceptance, and compassion in the absence of fear and judgment.
— A. G.
Arvel Gray is a Winnipeg-based writer/broadcaster and
executive director of Waking the World, a project dedicated to
uniting the voices of women globally.