SOME PEOPLE (I was one) will initially read this book to learn what it was like for the author to grow up in Jonah House, a faith-based community of peacemakers in Baltimore, with internationally known activist parents Phil Berrigan and Liz McAlister providing strong ballast when not spending time in prison for nonviolent civil disobedience. I wanted to know what formed the vibrant Frida Berrigan, with whom I work on the National Committee of the War Resisters League. I learned about Frida’s birth in a basement, about Jonah House folks reading the Bible before days of work as house painters or being arrested at protests, about Frida and her sibs watching television on the sly, about the nitty-gritty of dumpster-diving at Jessup Wholesale Market.
But I learned much more from It Runs in the Family, and the “more” is at the heart of this fascinating book, which blends memoir, parenting advice, and connections between the questions parents ask about their children and the questions we should ask about the world. Phil Berrigan and Liz McAlister taught their children about the woes and warfare of the world; in this book, Frida also gently teaches us, while describing both her life as a child and her life as a mother to Seamus, Madeline, and stepdaughter Rosena.
For example, when Frida talks about the visits she and Seamus make to their “Uncle Dan” (Phil Berrigan’s brother Daniel Berrigan, a priest, poet, and activist) and the special bond between the nonagenarian and his lively great-nephew, she also tells us of ONEgeneration daycare in California, where toddlers garden, read, and play with seniors. Then she comments on the increasing number of grandparents who have primary responsibility for their grandchildren and the economic structures that contribute to this phenomenon.
Frida writes honestly and sometimes painfully of her failures as a parent. Her story of dumping a cup of water on her baby’s head brought back memories of my own strong emotions when my children were young. Frida doesn’t sugarcoat the frustration, loneliness, and boredom that can be a part of both motherhood and childhood. Spouse Patrick Sheehan-Gaumer is a constant presence, and his patience seems a perfect foil for Frida’s passion.
Similar to her parents, Frida is an activist, serving with War Resisters League and as a leader in the campaign to close the prison in Guantánamo. However, her activism is her own, and so is her parenting approach. In the chapter on consumerism, Frida offers chilling statistics of extravagant expenditures for “first day of school” clothing, and then goes on to explain how living below taxable income helps her not only to resist paying war taxes but to make economically and environmentally considerate decisions—even if they’re not as dramatic as the dumpster-diving of the Jonah House days.
In a poignant sequence, Frida talks about learning from her children instead of being so constantly intent on teaching them—of trying to capture some of their boundless wonder. Yes, it’s frustrating when 7-year-old Rosena wants to show her stepmom her latest Lincoln Log creation instead of putting her clothes away, but this very living-in-the-now is a virtue adults might relearn from the young.
Frida’s stories and the global connections she makes will initiate thoughtful discussion on resisting gendered consumerism, modeling nonviolent responses to a toddler’s incessant demands, and forming neighborhood communities. In fact, why not form a parents’ group to read and discuss the book together?
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