Joyce L. Hocker and Gary W. Hawk

[00:02] GARY W. HAWK: My name is Gary W. Hawk. I'm all of 72. Today is Monday, June 20, 2022. Our location is Missoula, Montana, and I'm interviewing Joyce L. Hocker and she is my spouse.

[00:23] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Hi, I'm Joyce Hawker I'm 76, almost 77. Today's date is Monday, June 20, 2022. We're in beautiful Missoula, Montana, and my interview partner is my husband, Gary Hawk.

[00:42] GARY W. HAWK: Joyce, thank you so much for agreeing to let me interview you. I'm thrilled to have your family stories on record as we begin. I'm very mindful of this holiday, the federal portion of Juneteenth, and how America is in the midst of a tremendous racial reckoning. A few examples will make that clear. I think you and I are both very conscious of black men, women and children who have been shot by the police. We're not very far removed from the shooting of black shoppers at Topps Market in Buffalo, New York. And if we look closer to home, I'm so grateful that we are finally reckoning with our racism in relation to native peoples here in Montana. And I'm thrilled that the National Bison Range is finally in the hands of the Salish and Kalispe people. So we're in the midst of coming to terms with our own privilege as white people, but also our prejudice as white people. And I'm also mindful that people of color are finally getting a chance to tell their stories. It is usually the dramatic headlines that get the attention, but your own family has private stories that reveal our country's racist tendencies and the moral courage it takes to confront our own history. So I'm wondering if you could begin by telling us a little bit about your family so that we feel oriented. And then I'd like to begin to hear or pull out the stories that your family has to tell, starting perhaps with those hours before your father died in the hospital in 2005. So tell us a little about your family so we get the overall picture.

[03:15] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Okay. I am a fifth generation Texan now living in Missoula, happily living. I'll probably never move back to Texas, but my ancestors.

[03:27] GARY W. HAWK: Oh, I hope not.

[03:29] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right, I hope not, too. But my ancestors way, way, way Back to the 1830s are Texas immigrants. They immigrated into Texas, and one of my ancestors, a Cherokee woman, was forced out to what was in Indian Territory in 1832 and later lived in Texas. But Texas is where the family began. That my part of that I know. So I could talk about other ancestors, but I'll mention my parents because they're going to figure in these stories. My mother is Jean Lightfoot, Jean Elizabeth Lightfoot Hawker She was raised in San Antonio. Born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. She was valedictorian of a 600 person senior class at Thomas Jefferson High School. She couldn't afford to go on to college out of San Antonio, so she went to a local Catholic school for three years. My dad was Charles Lamar Hawker who was raised in Lampasas, Texas, close to the Hill Country. Born and raised there. His dad was a bank president and his mother was a musician. And my father was ordained in the Christian Church Disciples of Christ when he was 18 years old, and then sent off to Texas Christian University to get his BA and then his master's in divinity. So they are both deeply embedded in Central Texas, Central and South Texas for their background. And then I'm the oldest of three children. I was born in 1945 in Atlanta, Georgia. Dad and mom, having finished seminary, went to Atlanta first. And then my sister Janice was born in Charlotte, North Carolina, in 1949. Janice died in 2004. And our brother Ed was born back in Dallas, Texas in 1953. So there were three of us. And when I say we in my stories, I'll be talking about these five people primarily.

[05:57] GARY W. HAWK: Okay, that's very helpful to give us that kind of overview. Tell us about those last days or hours with your father when you knew that he was probably dying, that you did not have very much time to learn some final critical things.

[06:20] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Well, the history here is that my father was a minister, as I mentioned, and he was a progressive minister, progressive in social issues, progressive in his preaching, his values. And that got him in a lot of trouble. He was fired from four churches and nudged out of another one. So I knew a lot about their stories. I had not only lived them, but we were a storytelling family. And so I knew a great deal from sitting around campfires in Colorado, tent camping, vacations, and lots of talks. We were a family that talked and shared stories. And so I knew a lot, but I wanted to know more. And I especially wanted to know how it was that Jean and Lamar, my folks, had managed to somehow escape the racism of south and Central Texas. And because this was the twenties and the thirties and the forties when their formation took place. And so I asked him, I said, daddy, how did you and mom escape somehow the racism all around you? And he said, well, Joycey, I don't know that we completely escaped it, but. And then there was a long pause and he said, I just Read the gospel. This makes me tear up when I say it. But. And then I said, well dad, you read it a lot differently from a lot of people. And he kind of laughed and he says I suppose that's right. And I said so that was it. He says yes, it's pretty clear if you read it carefully. And then he said a few more things and I said, well, I've always wondered and I really appreciate knowing where exactly your formation of inclusiveness and bravery came from.

[08:23] GARY W. HAWK: Do you think he was taking a position contrary to positions held by his own ancestors?

[08:35] JOYCE L. HAWKER: You know his parents were not overtly racist. I knew his mother, my grandmother and I knew about his father who was a very decent man and had a wonderful history of helping people in Lampasas, helped them not lose their farms during the Depression. During the Depression. And dad said that his parents were not prejudiced. That was the word that we use then, prejudiced. But certainly his ancestors, two Texas Rangers, even though one taught a Greek and Latin boys school and lots of other things in the frontier town of Lampasas, they had to be racist in certain ways, but I never knew specifically about that. The stories were more about Comanches and fighting and that kind of thing than they were about black racism. Anyway. Now my mother's mother was absolutely not prejudiced. She was a very open minded musician, a science of life kind of person. Even though she went to the Christian church, same church my dad's folks did. She was by the way, the first licensed chiropractor woman in Texas, Grandmother Freddie. But grandfather Lightfoot definitely was racist when it came to Mexicans. He was a developer and he would say things like my mescans. And so dad recognized that. But your question is, was this different from their ancestors? And I would say yes, but not dramatically different in a way that caused conflict in their families.

[10:32] GARY W. HAWK: I see. I'm mindful that you have a lot of stories to tell and maybe we can make their. Oh, their resistance to their contextual racism a little more concrete. Let's begin with a story from North Carolina.

[10:57] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Okay, well this is a story that where in which I was sort of present. I was in the nursery at the First Christian Church in Charlotte, North Carolina. But I heard so much about this story that it was very formative for me. And so I'm going to tell it as part of the family story even though I wasn't technically there in the sanctuary.

[11:19] GARY W. HAWK: Well, knowing you fairly well, I wouldn't be surprised if you remembered everything from birth on.

[11:27] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Well, not quite, but as I said because we heard the family stories so often, there was a lot of opportunity to learn. So at this particular time in 1949, my dad decided that it would be a good idea to invite what was then called the Negro Brotherhood of the Disciples Church. By the way, for people who don't know the Christian church, Disciples of Christ is very much like the Congregational church, the United Church of Christ, not quite as progressive, but definitely not an evangelical church. So anyway, dad decided that he thought it would be a good idea to invite the Negro Brotherhood to share the state conference at the church that he pastored in Charlotte. And the Board of Elders, the governing board, thought that was okay, but they would only accept them as guests, not as equal kinds of partners in the conference that was held every year. So he went ahead and invited them. And there was a large number of black men and women church people who came. And dad was chafing under this idea that these were guests, that it wasn't really a brotherhood sisterhood, that they were our guests or their guests. And so there was a very well known singer in the black church named Rosa Page Welch. She was quite an ambassador for not only black music, but the messages of tolerance and love. And I knew her later in my life. But Rosa Page was the singer. And on Sunday morning she sang Let Us Break Bed Bread Together on our knees. And she knelt to sing, and my dad knelt beside her.

[13:39] GARY W. HAWK: Did they go up onto the chancel?

[13:41] JOYCE L. HAWKER: They were up on the chancellor where she was singing and where communion was going to be began. And then it would be distributed to all the people in the sanctuary. Very large sanctuary. So she knelt to sing, and she had a kind of a Marian Anderson sort of a voice. And dad just knelt beside her. He didn't sing. He was a terrible singer. But he knelt beside her in solidarity.

[14:08] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. And I'm struck by the physical posture of kneeling.

[14:14] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Absolutely.

[14:15] GARY W. HAWK: Which communicated equality.

[14:18] JOYCE L. HAWKER: It did. He wasn't going to put up with this. You're our guests and you're our talented little Negro singer. He just wasn't going to let that happen. And so when we talked about it later, he said it just seemed like the right thing to do. And so later that year, the board told him that they thought he might be happier going back home to Texas. And so that was the nudge. Not exactly a firing. But they made it clear that they really didn't want him to stay. And so the family, which then included our sister Janice and Mom and dad.

[14:57] GARY W. HAWK: Moved to Dallas, Texas, about how soon after this incident?

[15:04] JOYCE L. HAWKER: I think it must have been about six Months. They probably let him stay to the end of my kindergarten year, and I was getting ready to start first grade. I don't know that for sure, but I think the conference must have been in the fall, and they soldiered through the winter and spring. There wasn't a lot of open hostility that I remember, but they definitely nudged him out.

[15:32] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah, I don't. I'm tempted to go down this detour of kind of the irony of language. You might be happier if.

[15:43] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Yes. Well, that's the southern way. The southern white man way would be to be quite indirect.

[15:50] GARY W. HAWK: Yes.

[15:51] JOYCE L. HAWKER: You know, Pastor Hawker we really appreciate your time here with us, but. But we've all been talking and thinking that you might be a lot happier back home in Texas. That's my imagination.

[16:03] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. As a Montana, I'd take it straight. That kind of language would be very hard for me. Well, thank you for that initial story, and it illustrates the tension that gets set up between your father's convictions and the setting in which he ministers. How about that story that you told me once about the Jarvis College choir?

[16:36] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right. Well, we were living in the parsonage in Dallas, Texas, in a white neighborhood. Everything was still segregated. This was about 1953. It was before Brown versus Board of Education, which becomes important in 1954. But Texas Christian University, where both mom and dad had gone, had a sister college, it was called, which was a black small college in East Texas, Jarvis Christian College. And they had, as so many historic black colleges did, did and do a choir that traveled partly for fundraising, partly for racial tolerance integration reasons. But this choir of six. Pardon me, eight young men. I think you've seen my black and white photo of that.

[17:33] GARY W. HAWK: Oh, yes, in the living room.

[17:35] JOYCE L. HAWKER: In the living room of the parsonage. They're all standing there in a line and they didn't have a place to stay because of segregation in Dallas. And so mom and dad invited them to stay in the parsonage. I think some of the young men were farmed out to some close by neighbors who were church members because we didn't have room for eight more people, but we hosted at least five. And so my sister Janice and I needed to give up our bunk beds in our room to two of the men. And we put some men in the guest room, and I think some were even out on the screened in porch because we had camping equipment and so they could sleep on air mattresses and sleeping bags. And I don't remember where Janice and I slept, somewhere tucked away in the house in our camping gear and I was flatly being quite bratty about it. I was eight years old, I guess, and I didn't like it. I didn't like being tossed out of my room. But I knew that we needed to be really polite. And mom was busy cooking for them and hostessing, as she did so beautifully. And so after, no, it was while they were still there. I complained to my dad something I didn't do very often, and I said, why do we have to give up our bed for guests? Why can't they stay in a hotel? And he said, joyce, I want you to come with me. And so he put me in the 1951 Pontiac that we had and drove me down to a hotel close to the Texas State Fair in inner city Dallas. And somehow he knew the manager of this hotel, a black man. And he said, Mr. McComas, I'd like to show my daughter your hotel if it's okay with you. And he said, sure thing, Reverend Hawker So they knew each other somehow. And he took me through the hotel and just. He says, I just want you to look at it. And so I saw the open door bathrooms at the end of the halls, very dilapidated rooms with hardly any furniture, paint peeling, and everything was very silent. We just walked through the hotel, and so we went back down to the lobby. And I remember dad saying, thank you, Mr. McComas. And he said, Anytime, Reverend Hawker And so on the way home, I started crying, and I said, daddy, are you mad at me? And he said, no, I'm mad at the situation. And I wanted you to see it for yourself. I'm not mad at you, but I wanted you to learn for yourself what things are like in segregation. And I knew what segregation was by then, but that was a very powerful message for me, because he was not angry at me. He was angry at the situation. And I got it.

[20:47] GARY W. HAWK: Yes, I got it. Yeah. I'm really struck by how he shows you things, either by kneeling or in this case, taking you into the hotel and not saying much, but letting you see for yourself, make your own discoveries of how these lines get drawn and what the consequences are.

[21:10] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That's right. He was that way. And I already knew, had seen, of course, as every white and black child did, the white and black drinking fountains at the JCPenney where we shopped. But I hadn't been more deeply involved in the differences. And this was the beginning of that.

[21:31] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. And so meanwhile, your mom's in the parsonage doing everything she can to make these people feel welcome and part of the family. And at the table.

[21:43] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That's right.

[21:44] GARY W. HAWK: And, you know, your people are not large people. And I remember having seen that photograph, and the members of this choir were generally.

[21:54] JOYCE L. HAWKER: They were large young men. Yes, yes. And mom, as you know, had such a way of making people feel welcome and cooking and as you say, having them at the table, which was symbolically important for them.

[22:10] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. Oh, absolutely. Because of how they celebrated communion as members of the Disciples Church.

[22:19] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That's right.

[22:20] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. Yeah. I'm curious to learn a little more about some of your father's sermons. You have shared tapes of some of the sermons with me, and we have often laughed that he spoke with the voice of God.

[22:41] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right. He had this really deep voice, Janice. And I knew what God sounded like because he sounded like our daddy.

[22:48] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. Well, it's a good thing your feminism has created some balance.

[22:53] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Exactly.

[22:56] GARY W. HAWK: And I think you showed this sermon to me that I'm going to refer to. And I was really struck by the philosophical foundations, the intellectual rigor of this sermon. Not the kind of thing that we hear in America anymore, or at least not very often. But as I recall, this was his sermon right after the Brown versus the Board of Education decision by the Supreme Court Court in May of May of 1954. 1954. Okay. Tell us about that.

[23:37] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Okay. And I've archived all of the written copies of Dad's sermons. As you know, I've put them in order. He typed them out, and they're all marked up and have notes in the margin. But I have this sermon. I almost brought it today, but I knew we wouldn't have time for very much. But I was there in the sanctuary. I remember it. And what I remember is the quiet, the absolute drop dead quiet. But this was on the Sunday immediately after Brown v. Board of Education, which was, of course, intended to desegregate schools. And so what dad did in that sermon was give the history of segregation briefly his hopes for integration. And the whole theme was that he hoped his congregation would be part of the solution and not part of the problem. And he had just reviewed lynching, slavery, economic inequity, and other things. And he says, I hope more than anything else that everybody sitting here can be part of the solution and not part of the problem. He had talked about the Ku Klux Klan putting crosses on fire, which happened even in Texas. This was not just in the Deep South. He was speaking with authority because he had seen this kind of thing happen in Central Texas growing up, too. This was not just Dallas, but there was a lot of fervor the manuscript I have is five pages long, beautifully organized. We wouldn't be able to get away with a sermon like that these days, but you could preach for 25 minutes in those days. And he did. And there was a lot of silence. And I remember feeling frightened as a child. I was 9, and I thought, uh, oh, Daddy's going to get in trouble.

[25:49] GARY W. HAWK: Oh, you could feel it, the atmosphere of the room.

[25:53] JOYCE L. HAWKER: I could feel it. It was a large sanctuary filled with people, and I just had a very, very uneasy feeling. And it wasn't a dramatic event, but it took about three more years before they did. The board of elders did fire him at Mount Auburn Christian Church. Not with such a polite nudge like the Charlotte people had done, but they just had enough. He was preaching pro integration sermons, grounded in biblical history. He was a good biblical scholar, progressive biblical scholar, and everything was grounded in the gospel for him. And he was preaching off and on about this. And he was also opposed to the idea that the World Council of Churches was a communist front agency. And that made people mad, too. And so that got woven in with his stand on integration. And so he was fired in 1957, and we moved to a small town in North Texas at the end of my sixth grade year.

[27:08] GARY W. HAWK: And that was Vernon.

[27:10] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That was Vernon, Texas.

[27:11] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. You know, before we go to the next story, as you tell this account, I'm thinking about how the prophets in our culture are always at odds, always in their society, and so many steps ahead of the rest of the population. And here your dad is trying to involve them in the great vision of what King called the beloved community.

[27:48] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right.

[27:49] GARY W. HAWK: And they are just setting their heels in the red dirt and aren't going where he sees they could go.

[28:00] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That's true. It was black dirt in Texas.

[28:02] GARY W. HAWK: Oh, okay.

[28:03] JOYCE L. HAWKER: It was red dirt in Vernon, but black dirt anyway.

[28:06] GARY W. HAWK: Well, the south is all the same.

[28:07] JOYCE L. HAWKER: No, it's not all the same, you Yankee, you. And I want to say that our mother not only supported our dad, but was part of it. Now, she didn't speak out the way he did, but she was friendly and inclusive and very much involved. They were a team. They were a pair. This wasn't, oh, the mouthy preacher getting in trouble and making his wife suffer. It wasn't like that at all. She supported him.

[28:42] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. I'm glad you bring your mom into the picture because she, as I understand it, would often develop very close relationships with people in these congregations. And this serial firing of your father must have taken a tremendous toll on her.

[29:07] JOYCE L. HAWKER: It absolutely did. It broke her heart. She was very involved in women's work in the church, and so she knew the women well. Although as a minister's wife in those days, you didn't have special friends in the congregation. That was kind of not the right thing to do. But she loved them and they loved her. She was a very lovable person. And so it really broke her heart, especially, I can tell it later if we get there, in San Antonio, her hometown, when the same thing happened. But she was supportive and poured her heart into the lives of the people.

[29:49] GARY W. HAWK: There and then had those roots ripped up each time.

[29:56] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right.

[29:56] GARY W. HAWK: She felt betrayed, really sad, betrayed by people whom she thought were friends, were her friends.

[30:03] JOYCE L. HAWKER: She'd say, I thought they were my friends. I thought, Mrs. So and so was my friend. And it just kept happening over and over again. But she was resilient and raised to be strong. And she was strong.

[30:19] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. And she accepted the consequences of the moral position that your father kept taking.

[30:26] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Yes. And I think it was her. I know it was her moral position, too. She just didn't speak in the same.

[30:32] GARY W. HAWK: Way or have the same opportunity.

[30:35] JOYCE L. HAWKER: She didn't have the pulpit.

[30:36] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah.

[30:38] JOYCE L. HAWKER: But she felt the same way.

[30:40] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. Let's go to the story in San Antonio because I want to make sure that we have enough time to talk about what all of this meant for you personally and professionally.

[30:54] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Okay. But I'll just mention very ever so quickly. We were in Vernon for three and a half years at Central Christian Church, and the sticking point there came when the elders said, Reverend Hawker what would you do if a black family walked down the church and asked for membership.

[31:14] GARY W. HAWK: And walked down the church aisle?

[31:16] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Aisle is what I meant. And by then, of course, I was in junior high. And I was thinking, why would any black family want to join this church where they are not welcome? But he said what? Of course, he always said, he well, I would offer them the right hand of Christian fellowship. And that was not an acceptable answer. And so they fired him. By this time, Janice. Janice and I were saying they fired us. So they fired us in the middle of that school year, and we had to scramble around for another church. And so you're asking me about San Antonio. Yes, we went. They went back to seminary for a semester in Fort Worth, where they both had gone. My mother went to seminary for a year, but didn't finish. This is off to the side. But she applied to admission to Yale divinity school in 1942, but they didn't accept her because they said educating women in divinity school just educated good ministers. Wives. And they were all about educating men for the ministry.

[32:25] GARY W. HAWK: So much for Yale.

[32:26] JOYCE L. HAWKER: So much for Yale. And I have that letter I felt like writing later when I found it, but I didn't. So we landed in San Antonio, which was Mom's hometown, but not in the same part of town where she had lived. We were at Alamo Heights Christian Church at that point. And so you wanted me to tell that story.

[32:47] GARY W. HAWK: You were at TCU at the time?

[32:49] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Well, I went to high school, finished high school in San Antonio, and then I went to Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, where Mom and dad had gone, and I was a freshman. And tcu, I'll call it, had just integrated its dorms. The classrooms had been integrated since Sometime in the 50s, not right after Brown vs. Education, but at least by the late 50s, black students were attending Texas Christian University, but they couldn't stay in the dorms. So the year that I went, I still have this headline newspaper in my scrapbook said, tcu integrates dorms. And so it turns out that they used to have these things called suites. There'd be a room separate or connected by a bathroom. So one of our suite mates was a theology student, a master's student at the seminary. I think I'll say her name. It's okay. She may still be alive. I hope she is. Mary Ann Henry. And we became friends in the dorm. And she was staying in the dorm because there wasn't any other place around the school for who would rent to her. And so she needed to stay in the dorm to have a good place to stay. And we became friends. And so one Sunday morning, I borrowed a VW Bug from a friend and asked. I was very homesick, asked Mary Ann if she'd like to come down to San Antonio, which was about three hours south with me. And we left really early in the morning. And I thought, this will be such a great surprise for mom and dad. And mom always had a good Sunday dinner and knew that they would welcome Mary Ann. And so we got there just in time for church. We didn't have time to go to the parsonage first. And we walked in and sat down. And I sat where I always do, front right, still do. And Marianne was with me. And I waved at dad, and he stopped and welcomed me and my friend and hoped that I would introduce my friend at the end of the service. And then he just went ahead with the service. But about a third of the congregation got up and walked out. And we found out later that they thought that he had put me up to it. They thought that he had asked me to kind of bring Mary Ann to make a statement, and he hadn't done that. He didn't know that this was going to happen. So at the end of the service, he asked me and Marianne to stand with him at the door and greet people. And some of the people were very kind, and others just went out the back door. And this. It didn't begin, but it continued. A lot of conflict that year of 63 and 64, which was such a big year in civil rights. Anyway, looking back, I realized I wrote a professional article one time about growing up with civil rights. A developmental autoethnography. This was one of the developmental stages. So dad was fired that spring and had to look for another church. I was in college, but we were all heartbroken, especially my mom, very depressed. Really, really, really hard for her for this to happen in her hometown.

[36:32] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. I'm thinking again about how your father, consciously or not, engaged in symbolic action as the prophets always did.

[36:47] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Right.

[36:48] GARY W. HAWK: And sometimes the cost of symbolic action is borne not just by the prophet, but by the family.

[36:56] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Yes. He told me in that last day when he was dying that he knew he'd made things hard on his family. And I told him that I didn't think so, that I was grateful for the experience. And of course, it was hard for us, but I didn't. Janice and I and Ed and I did not resent it because we supported him. Yes, it was hard, though.

[37:20] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. All of this displacement, uprooting your lives, the loss of friends, the emotional consequences, always being the outsider, being rejected, being.

[37:35] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Outside, being the new girl.

[37:37] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. Yes. In the time we have left, I'd really like for you to talk about what this has meant for you professionally as a psychologist, as an expert on organizational communication. What's been the impact or the effect of all this history on what you do and how you do it?

[38:04] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Well, for sure. I got a PhD in communication. Speech communication at the University of Texas, and that was in conflict resolution. That was my chosen area of study. Janice and I used to laugh. Somebody has to learn how to do this right. Nobody's getting along. And so we both got PhDs in communication. As you know, my brother is an exceptionally peaceful man, even though he didn't go the academic route the way Janice and I did. So I taught and wrote about conflict resolution for all of my academic life. I taught at the University of Colorado and here at the University of Montana, and then I became a psychologist. But the form of conflict resolution that I have followed has been not so much the movement, conflict resolution, but interpersonal conversations with individuals in small groups who are having trouble getting along. In fact, I'll do one of those at the University of Montana tomorrow at one of the schools that had an explosion during a search committee based on race. So it has led me into these intimate conversations with people. Of course, as a psychologist, I've done other things, but as a conflict resolution person, I'm passionate about conciliation, reconciliation, learning to communicate.

[39:36] GARY W. HAWK: I'm immensely proud to be married to you.

[39:41] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Oh, thank you, hon.

[39:43] GARY W. HAWK: Someone that the university president calls up and says, we've got a mess here and we need your help straightening it out.

[39:56] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Thank you. It's not so much the president, but his staff calls me, but. Yes. Thank you so much, honey. I'm so glad to be able to still do this work.

[40:06] GARY W. HAWK: Yes. So the work that your father was trying to do, the vision he had for the world, is something you are carrying on in more private settings or small groups.

[40:20] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Yes. I hope so. It's important to me.

[40:24] GARY W. HAWK: Yeah. A reweaving of human connection.

[40:28] JOYCE L. HAWKER: That's what I really try to do.

[40:30] GARY W. HAWK: Yes.

[40:31] JOYCE L. HAWKER: Thank you. And it means a lot to me that you asked me to tell these stories.

[40:35] GARY W. HAWK: I'm so glad you did. Thank you very much, Joyce.

[40:38] JOYCE L. HAWKER: You too, sweetie.

[40:40] GARY W. HAWK: It.