Hi Jim, we don’t know each other, and I’m sorry we’re ‘meeting’ under these circumstances! I’m moved that you felt strongly enough to write about your Goose experience, and I’d like to respond.
First, I’ll own my biases up-front: I’m one of the founding organizers, one of the original staff. I haven’t been on staff in years — and indeed, have even had issues with various iterations of leadership, including some of my dear friends — so I feel like my bias is also an asset, for what it’s worth.
Here’s my take on a few of your points:
I thought your economics-talks point is interesting. I agree with you that how we spend our money is SO important — it’s the defining liturgy of our time. This year my friends George Fuller Jr and Aline Defiglia talked about their Silver Compassion Life Compass model, showing how we spend our money (and our children’s money) impacts our legacies, and all the relationships that are important to us. I know in years past we’ve had Ched Myers talk about Sabbath Economics, and Christine and Tom Sine share about alternative economic community models, and the Carnival de Resistance share their awesome, capitalism-subverting work, and Joerg Rieger and Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, and…well, a number of awesome folks challenging how we use our economic resources. As for THIS year, I don’t know enough about the talks program to challenge your 225-to-1 analysis. I can only say, sometimes talk titles can be only partially informative at best.
As far as your issue with their being 200+ talks, I hear you. As an Enneagram ‘5’ and something of a knowledge-hoarder, when I first realized that I wouldn’t be physically able to be present for so many amazing talks at a festival of this scope, I was pissed! But what I understood is that this is par for the course at a sizable festival, like Greenbelt Festival in the UK where the Wild Goose Festival draws its inspiration. That said, when we were first getting started in 2011 I thought our then-100+ talks was a bit much. Sometimes talks would only have a handful of people in them, and it could be frustrating if a more modestly-known presenter was going up against Vincent Harding or Phyllis A. Tickle! But the situation *has* been improving. I didn’t attend a ton of talks this year, but none that I attended had fewer than 40 people at them. And I didn’t go hear any of the ‘big names.’ I think at the end of the day, the proliferation of talks gives festival-goers options without issuing decrees. So many of my friends go nearly *zero* talks but still get so much out of the weekend. Others go to a few; still others drink them in through a firehose.
I still think we should have more music — but I’m happy, these days, with the number of talks.
Your alcohol observation — I get it. I’ve said it. So many recovering evangelicals from my ‘tribe’ rejoice so hard in their newfound freedom that they party hard, too — maybe sometimes a little *too* hard.
But did you know that for every Beer and Hymns, there are usually a couple 12-Step meetings? There’s an active recovery community that’s a backbone of the Goose. I heard from several sober folks this year about the support they feel while at the Festival. They too have suggestions for improvement (as do artists, and autistic folks — all constituencies I heard from directly this year) — but they’re grateful for the space.
That Christian Shaman leading the ‘woo-woo’ ceremony? He’s a friend of mine. He’s Mexican-American, working-class, and a recovering pastor rediscovering his calling via healing arts that reclaim his indigenous heritage. I get that Pastor Nar’s offerings are not for everyone — but they most certainly *are* for this Pentecostal boy, and many other misfits who have found healing and strength for the journey through Nar’s friendship and presence. Like everything else at the Festival, there’s space for a thousand flowers to bloom.
The Otis Moss III & Trinity UCC choir statement. The Goose being a safe space (or a BRAVE space, as my friend Micky ScottBey Jones calls us toward) for people of color is a work in progress. There have been plenty of missteps, but also I think plenty of steps made in good faith that have borne good fruit. When I’ve talked to POC board members at the Goose, and my wife Jasmin (who has been on staff & is black), they’ve all pretty much said the same thing: People of color don’t just start pouring into the woods en masse with white folks! It’s not gonna happen. It takes time to build trust. We can start with changes in programming, and leadership, which has been steadily happening the past seven years and hopefully will continue to happen. And, yes, by all means bus peeps in if they’re willing to come. In 2011 we had an opportunity to bus in dozens of black students of a particularly prominent POC educator/preacher, welcoming them and giving them free admission. It turns out the timing didn’t work for them but we’d absolutely bus folks in if it was a bridge-building step, optics be damned!
I take the challenge you identified very personally; each year I try to invite friends and colleagues to the Goose who don’t look or think or live quite like me. I take heart at the stories of three brand-new peeps I invited to the Festival this year — three people of color contemplative teachers whom I asked to present at a pre-Festival retreat I curated. I’m quite heartened that they all felt embraced by the community, had a blast, and want to come back next year.
The culty-ness…yeah, sorry about that. Some of us get pretty enthusiastic at what feels like a giant family reunion, with our without our Priuses.
(*I* drive a Prius. I resemble that remark. ;) )
For what it’s worth, I’m not upset that you have critiques of the Goose. Heck, *I* have critiques of the Goose — I could probably write a blog post of my own!
That said, as a founder, I am sad whenever someone shows up & finds it’s not for them. I wish you peace, and finding your people — wherever they may be. The Goose isn’t perfect but this is why I keep participating — because there’s always room to improve, and bring more folks to the Table.
I hope you reconsider the thought that you might not come back — I’d like to actually meet you face-to-face next year. And maybe during their call for submissions, you can encourage some of *your* friends and colleagues to be the change you wish to see by submitting their talks. The challenges we face are great, but so are our opportunities for joy. We need all hands on-deck!
