“Our country was birthed in a polarized cradle,” David Brubaker writes in the introduction to (Fortress Press, 2019). First, patriots and loyalists faced off leading up to the Revolutionary War. The American Civil War followed within the century. Then came the Vietnam War and the civil rights movement of the late 1960s.

“I believe the turmoil of the 1960s and early 1970s set the stage for our current era of polarization. Those of us in the baby-boom generation were shaped in the turmoil of the 1960s,” Brubaker writes. “And it is members of the baby-boom generation who now occupy the majority of leadership roles in business, education, health care, and government.”

When the Center Does Not Hold is like a guidebook grounded in sociology, offering mentorship for leaders who find themselves in polarized environments, such as the entire United States in the current era. Brubaker, dean of social sciences and professions at ˛ÝÝŽÉçÇř (EMU), co-authored the book with contributors Everett Brubaker ‘15, his son; Teresa Haase, former director of EMU’s MA in counseling program and current director of the Center for Grief and Healing at Hospice of the Piedmont; and Carolyn Yoder, the founding director of EMU’s (STAR) and author of Little Book of Trauma Healing (SkyHorse Publishing, 2020)

Their target audience is faith-based leaders in congregations, educational settings, communities, and other organizations. But David Brubaker noted that secular, for-profit, and governmental leaders will also find the concepts applicable. 

It was also important to him that the book be accessible for a wide audience – so each chapter opens with a story illustrating its concepts: like that about a Pennsylvania coal miner who supports Trump, proponents for and against the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and even EMU’s own listening process about hiring faculty in same-sex relationships.

When the Center Does Not Hold goes beyond mere analysis of polarization. It calls for a special kind of leadership in response: leaders who are clear about where they stand, but also interested in the “experiences and beliefs of others in the systems they lead,” David Brubaker writes. “This is because the antidote to polarization is not conflict avoidance but conflict engagement.”

Each of the four authors brought insight from their own careers. David Brubaker said his interest in polarized systems began in 1991, when he encountered a high intensity conflict case in a congregation. An allegation of sexual misconduct came out against the lead minister, whose response further fractured the congregation.

“None of our traditional tools of structuring dialogue were effective, and we soon realized that we were in new territory,” he recalled.

Everett Brubaker, now the resident services and communications coordinator for the Harrisonburg Redevelopment and Housing Authority, has a background in working on environmental issues including climate change. He completed a master’s degree in environmental communication and advocacy from James Madison University in 2019. His chapter focuses on effective communication. 

As he watched debates over the veracity of climate change, “I recognized we would need additional skills to address what were ultimately challenges in communication, not necessarily a lack of knowledge or science,” he said. 

Haase brings counseling expertise to the table, with a specialty in grief and loss. Her chapter opens with a story about her grandmother, whose “courage and fierce compassion have always inspired me to lead from a heart-centered place with determination and perseverance,” said Haase. “In my experience as a leader, I have found resilience and vulnerability to be key factors for weathering adversity and polarization.”

Yoder’s background is also in counseling, specializing in individual and group trauma. In her chapter, “Trauma, Polarization, and Connection,” she draws on two key concepts to understand polarization. 

“What traumas have we experienced and what traumas have they experienced that bring us both to this way of seeing? This helps foster compassion and humanize each other,” says Yoder. And “understanding the neuroscience – the physical effects – on our brain and bodies of feeling safe or feeling threatened in a situation or in talking about a situation. This helps us understand the individual and group actions, reactions, beliefs and behaviors associated with each.”

The book’s final chapter opens with an analysis of Jesus’s own tactics in both assembling a diverse group of disciples in a polarized world, and instructing them to love their enemies while resisting their “dehumanizing behavior and the oppressive systems that supported such behavior.” 

“When we are able to name and resist the systems that violate human dignity while affirming the dignity of those trapped in such systems, we are helping ‘to protest and neutralize’ the onerous practices of our day,” David Brubaker writes. “And when we form loving communities that reflect the broad diversity of our society, we are demonstrating that relationships can flourish even in an age of polarization.” 

The business emerged out of a combination of two elements. After high school, Brubaker took a gap year and went on a cross-country road trip with a friend. The trip concluded a few months before the start of classes at ˛ÝÝŽÉçÇř in the fall of 2012. Brubaker wanted to work, but didn’t think that he had enough time to find and hold down a full-time job. Instead, he began to advertise himself as an “odd-job” man. Much to his surprise, requests for help poured in and he eventually had to enlist a friend to help him handle the workload.

That fall, Brubaker took an EMU class called “Principles of Management,” which required developing a business model. It helped him think more formally about the business opportunity he’d discovered that summer. Brubaker titled the business BruCrew, and officially launched under that name the next summer.

“There has been a bit of a learning curve,” he said, as he explained that he had to figure out how to get a business license, pay taxes, keep books and manage any (small) conflicts that may arise between one of the crew and a client. “We really haven’t had any big problems [though],” he added, “because the people I bring in recognize that the job is a blessing and are pretty driven.”

For the students who do work for him, the job is ideal. Full-time work is 20 hours a week and starting pay is $11 per hour, with a raise to $12 per hour after the first 60 hours. BruCrew is designed with college students in mind, he said. “I want to pay them well enough to be competitive with a full-time, minimum-wage job so that they can volunteer, read, spend time with friends and enjoy their summers as well as working.” Although 20 hours a week at $11 dollars per hour doesn’t amount to a 40-hour week at minimum wage, Brubaker believes that his model allows students to make enough to be able to invest in activities that are inherently valuable.

Brubaker does have a few contractors (he technically doesn’t have any employees) who will work for him all summer, but most on his BruCrew are pretty transient, working stints to supplement things like camp counseling jobs or to fit between family vacations. Others are on call for big moving or furniture installation jobs.

Brubaker, an major with minors in and , tries to conduct his business as simply and sustainably as possible. “We have a pretty low overhead because we use the clients’ tools,” he explained. “This allows us to bike or walk to client homes and means we don’t have to maintain and fuel a fleet of vehicles or expensive equipment.” BruCrew tries to find that middle ground between the neighborhood 12-year-old and a professional landscaping company, he said.

One way that Brubaker finds that middle ground is by building relationships and giving back to the community. He encourages his crew to do the same. Brubaker, who is currently studying at , drove two hours to Harrisonburg one recent weekend to join other BruCrew folks in the annual Blacks Run stream clean-up.

While in D.C., Brubaker has been using his free time to help install a rain barrel on the back of EMU’s house, start a rain garden and faithfully empty the house compost bucket every week. He hopes that he will be able to incorporate some of these eco-friendly ideas into BruCrew this summer.

Brubaker, who will be entering his senior year at EMU in the fall, doesn’t know what will happen to the business after he graduates. “I see potential for large growth,” he said, “but I’m not exactly sure where I want to take it.” He hopes that the vision will be shaped some this summer, when he has the space to dream and look to the future. For more information, check out the BruCrew.

The energetic Carnival troupe began its two-city tour with 10 days in Harrisonburg, camping on ’s lawn while promoting “creation care” through performance, artwork and service both there and at EMU. Carnival de Resistance is a new venture, with artist-members from around the U.S. and Mexico, says member Sarah Thompson, who holds an MDiv from and is outreach coordinator for . Four main shows addressed themes of earth, air, fire and water.

At EMU’s Thomas Plaza in front of the Campus Center Wednesday, more than 100 experienced the air-themed show, titled “Out of the Whirlwind.” Featuring its creators, Jay Beck and Tevyn East as Raven and Dove, it began serendipitously as a full harvest moon emerged from clouds:

Addressing human neglect of earth

Dove (East), a wordless dancer in white robes, cradles an egg. Hatchling Raven (Beck) appears, clad in black rags. Raven’s first word is “death.” His narrative – angry, mournful, sometimes humorous – attacks humanity’s neglect of Earth:

“For the earth to stay alive, your way will have to die.”

Raven and Dove briefly dance on a biblical-type ark, but Dove gets confined to a cage. “We can scarcely fly in this soup of chemicals,” shouts Raven, who warns of angering Gaia, envisioned as the mother of Earth.

“The concepts were thought-provoking,” said ’08, an EMU staffer who brought a church youth group to the show.

At an earlier chapel service, the troupe led a Cherokee chant to “the great spirit,” along with the adaptation of a familiar spiritual’s words “When I die, hallelujah, by and by,” to “When we live, hallelujah, how we live.”

On the Carnival’s , inspiration is attributed to an array of influences, including First Nation and African earth-centered spirituality and activist theologians Ched Myers and William Stringfellow.

Resonating with students of sustainability

EMU biology professor observed that the Carnival “links oppressed people with the oppressed earth.” The radicalism, he said, may reach some who ignore conventional messages.

Troupe members visited Yoder’s classes all week. They have committed to making no purchases while touring, relying on kindnesses when needed. The Carnival is supported both by grants and hospitality.

EMU junior Chris Lehman, an environmental sustainability major, served as one of many sound-powering bikers and directed parking. Everett Brubaker, a classmate in the same major, participated as co-president of the campus . This major has been attracting increasing numbers of students, with 30 now in the program.

Junior Erin Rheinheimer, an environmental sustainability minor and Earthkeepers member, helped make sunflower signs for a parade and enjoyed a Carnival “skill-share show.”

Lehman, who enjoyed the air show most, is considering a career in conservation or wildlife biology. Brubaker, who especially liked the Carnival parade, hopes to work in advocacy.

Gifting a mural to Cedarwood

The second-floor mural in began with images by Carnival troupe member and nomadic painter Dimitri Kadiev. These were selected by art professor from his previous works, and the two worked collaboratively on shaping the overall result.

On part of the mural, between a laundry-room window and custodial closet door, a figure with outstretched arms smiles joyfully. A river seems to flow from the figure’s heart. Nearby, a quetzal (Guatemala’s national bird) displays its tail feathers.

Gusler and Kadiev started with a yellow background, which she notes, “glows through wherever there is open space.” Next, they filled in large shapes with solid colors – blue (river and shades of sky); green (landscape); purple (mountains).

Then, Gusler had all her students participate. At Kadiev’s suggestion, they created stenciled images of living things: an owl, poppy, hibiscus, egret and butterflies. Others subsequently dipped brushes in varying shades of green, instructed to “fill the shapes, and while you do, think about the earth.”

A passing student shows a spot to a companion, noting, “I did that shape.” Cedarwood resident director Micah Hurst points to the blue space his children, 4 and 8, helped paint.

Parading down Main Street

In Thursday’s Carnival parade, imaginatively retooled bicycles rolled alongside marchers from Harrisonburg’s North Main Street to Court Square. Motorists smiled at jugglers, banners, colorful costumes and percussionists with homemade instruments.

The local “Fossil Fuel Zombies,” wearing shredded black trash bags, called for burying fossil fuels with message-bearing signs, including “Oil, oil, watch Earth boil.”

“Are you really Jesus?” someone asked Kadiev, who had lettered the name atop his paint-splattered garb. “Only a stand-in,” Kadiev smiled.

The march ended with an hour-long “Power Down and Lift Up” rally at Court Square. Local groups represented by speakers included the for sustainability, the global-warming awareness movement, , , and .

Pastor Phil Kniss, who helped pedal the sound system, explained why his church installed 125 solar panels. When believers ask “Why worry about this world?” he responds, “Because God loves this world.”

At Trinity this weekend, the Carnival will offer children’s events and a “Water Show” before bicycling to Charlottesville for its final 2013 gig. Each day’s is posted on the Carnival’s website.