After I pressed send on my latest “View from Gibson” describing my attendance at the Shabbat, only one thing was running through my head: “Hey I wonder what kind of janky photoshop images will come from this announcement.” The Vignette understands that the image of a Quakers shouldn’t be limited to oatmeal packaging: I’m actually violently allergic to oatmeal and I am breaking out into hives just typing this op-ed. Quakers are doctors, lawyers, and Oprah impersonators. We’re husbands, neighbors, grandmothers, and sometimes all three of those things at once. We invented the Cadbury egg. We invented Pennsylvania. Fricking Herbert Hoover was a Quaker. It’s nice to know that the Vignette writers are making the most of the $20 that gets allocated to the history department every year.
Throughout my schooling and into my professional career I was teased mercilessly for two things: not crying enough and being a Quaker. While I’ve made steps to change the first thing, I will never be ashamed of my Quaker identity. I only hope that one day, all newspapers will have the tact and historical literacy of the Vignette.