Margaret Mead: American Dragon Lady
| Margaret Mead was an intellectual and cultural force in this country, and around the world, from the publication of her first book (Coming of Age in Samoa) until her death in the 70s. But, behind her outspoken public persona was a sensitive and insightful person –– continually in touch with, and support of, her far-flung network of family and friends.
When we were first married and living in Norfolk, Virginia (where I was stationed in the Navy), Margaret would stay with us on her visits to Hampton Institute, where she was a trustee. She got Peggy one of her first teaching jobs at Hampton, and encouraged me in the creative design work I was dabbling in. Later, when we were living outside Providence, where I was peddling toys on a street corner (and Peggy was in grad school), she used us as a base for her New England forays. One time I made a crude pocket caricature of her and left it on the breakfast table. "It's me, isn't it?" She said with delight –– and carried it off. That's it on her desk in this postcard picture. Maragret was the first person to call me an artist. It was 20 years before I accepted that description –– she had the sight. |
 Photo by Jill Krementz |
 |
Pat Grinager had been one of Margaret's minions in while in graduate school, and like so many of us in Margaret's web, Pat continued to be on call as the local taxi and B&B whenever this Walking Whirlwind was in her town. After Margaret died, Pat began to travel to all the places her mentor had lived and worked in America, interviewing people and looking out the windows Margaret had.
Pat was a forceful personality herself, driving her beat up little car everywhere, and knocking on doors. She discovered us in Jonesport sometime in the 80s, and became a fast friend. She knew more about Peggy's family than anyone in it did, and would regale us with Mead stories from the last 200 years. Pat was writing a personal biography of this great teacher, but as the years went on the bio became inceasingly auto –– Pat became more and more like Margaret. We wondered if Pat would ever escape from the process with a book in hand. Eventually Pat saw the biography into publication –– on her own deathbed: Uncommon Lives: My Lifelong Friendship With Margaret Mead. |
| Pat commissioned the big portrait of Margaret, and making it was an act of homage. I think Pat paid $50 –– a symbolic exchange between friends. I also made her a pocket caricature, similar to the one that disappeared when Margaret died. After Pat died, her family got in touch with me, asking if I wanted the portraits back. Of course! Would I be willing to pay what they were now worth? So I got to buy back two of my early works. Trickster at play. |  |
Margaret Speaks