Judy Kassouf Cummings
“There is only one man in the world and his name is All Men.
There is only one woman in the world and her name is All Women.
There is only one child in the world and the child's name is All Children.”
Carl Sandburg
Fredonia Nesbitt, a wiry woman in her mid-sixties, loved college students so much that she spent her retirement years living at The Ohio State University in an all-girls' freshman dormitory. This was lucky for me who, as an incoming student, felt overwhelmed by the enormity of an undergraduate class of 40,000.
Fredonia and I developed a quick friendship. I talked; she listened. Throughout the highs and lows of my first year, the growing social unrest, the Make-Love-Not War protests, the mini- operas of friendships found then lost, my dorm mother provided a nurturing, stable presence.
At the end of my first year, Miss Nesbitt gave me a gift: a first edition of the book The Family of Man. Published by the Museum of Modern Art in 1955, this book documents the epic exhibit of black and white images curated by Edward Steichen, Director of MOMA's Department of Photography (1947-1961). Of the two million photographs submitted from around the world, 503 from 68 countries were selected. These highlight seven stages of our shared humanity from birth to death. All focus on “people flung far and wide, born into toil, struggle, blood and dreams,” as poet Carl Sandburg states in the prologue. Throughout these pages, quotations reaffirm our kinship within this collective family: “With all beings and all things, we shall be relatives.”
And today when the search for belonging may leave us feeling more isolated, torn apart, and trapped inside media voices of our own choosing, I am drawn more and more to that which binds us together. Though my copy of this book is nearly 70 years old, its dust jacket gone, its pages yellowed with age, it still provides a loving vision forward on a weary and wounded planet. How will we write the story of Mankind's future? Will we, at last, see ourselves in the eyes of the other, recognizing that we belong to a larger family, The Family of Man? Or will we be left even more alone, haunted by this loveliest of visions?