about her upcoming meeting with Suzy, as though Judaism is wrong and there is such a thing as sin, and she has committed one. Eventually 3:30 rolls around. She waits impatiently as Suzy deals with a long line of students, and after twenty-five minutes, the two of them are alone at last. Judith compliments Suzy again on her interview with Cordelia.
“Thanks,” Suzy says. “You’ll be able to do that too, one day, with some practice. It’s incredible, the power of Unconditional Positive Regard.” Then she asks Judith if she knows what SWAK is.
“I think so,” says Judith. SWAK is short for Sealed With A Kiss: what she and her friends in high school wrote on the backs of birthday card envelopes after they’d licked them shut, with the letters SWAK inside a picture of two lips. But as Suzy continues to look at her eagerly, she understands it must also mean something else. Then she remembers SWAK with a “C” is the acronym for a committee at the school. The most important one. The Social Work Anti-oppression Committee, which coordinates all the school’s anti-oppression activities, publishes an evaluation every spring of each professor’s handling of anti-oppression issues in their classes, and is always co-chaired by a faculty member and a student.
“What I wanted to talk to you about,” says Suzy, “is being my co-chair for the coming year. The peace work you’ve done in Israel is very impressive, and also very relevant to SWAC — encouraging people to work across difference, etcetera. Plus, I think you’d be terrific. If you’re interested, that is.”
Judith nearly laughs with relief. She feels flattered, too: this is a great honour, especially for a first-year student.
“Of course!” she says. “I’d love to.”
“That’s great,” says Suzy, looking pleased. “It’ll be a lot of fun doing this together. Our first meeting is on October 17. Is that okay for you?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good. What are you doing now? If you’re free, we could go over a few things. I have an orientation package for you in my office.”
“Sure. No problem.” Judith’s cheeks are burning hot, and she feels she can’t control her face.
“Great. Let me just stop by the main office for a second — I have to pick something up. Then we can get started.”
They walk down the hall to the main office. But just outside the door, Suzy gets stopped by a tall, gaunt woman. Suzy excuses herself from Judith, and starts talking with this woman in a low voice. Judith goes partway down the hall and waits near the bulletin board, feeling useless and not sure what to do with herself. There’s no one else in the hallway to talk to, and nothing to read on the bulletin board she hasn’t already read. So, for lack of anything else to do, she watches Suzy and the tall, gaunt woman. They’re too far away for her to hear what they’re saying, so she practises “observing their nonverbals,” as Suzy called it in class last week. She notices how intensely Suzy is talking, leaning forward with her face very close to the other woman’s, and also putting a hand on her arm, on the pale green sleeve of an exquisite silk jacket. Suzy smiles and the woman smiles back. They say things to each other, and both of them laugh. Clearly a warm and friendly relationship, thinks Judith. Suzy was right: “It’s astonishing how much you can learn without hearing a single word.” A moment later they draw slightly apart, and Suzy starts looking around the hallway.
“Judith,” she calls when she spots her, and beckons. Judith trots over, self-conscious under the gaze of the two older women. “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Marie Green, the former Director of the School, who has just returned from research leave in China. Judith,” Suzy says to Marie, “has just agreed to be my co-chair this year on SWAC.”
“Congratulations!” says Marie Green, vigorously shaking Suzy’s hand. “Good for you!”
Judith, startled, is already muttering “Thank you” when she realizes with a jolt that this is Marie Green — the same one Suzy dislikes, who Suzy has rolled her eyes about several times during their after-class chats in her office. But no — I must have misunderstood something. Misread what I saw. Suzy’s not a phony. She and Suzy walk together to Suzy’s office. On the way, Suzy explains that the committee meets every second Thursday night at seven o’clock — sometimes, if need be, slightly more often — and is composed of students, faculty, and community people. They organize one major event per year: Anti-oppression Day, the core of which is usually a lecture by a prominent guest speaker — hopefully a star whose name will draw a good turnout — and constellations of other events surrounding that star. Suzy suggests, if it’s convenient for Judith, that they get together before each meeting at around five or six, perhaps over an early supper, to review the agenda. The thought of supper alone with Suzy every second Thursday causes Judith’s stomach to somersault with excitement, and not trusting herself to speak, she just nods in agreement. They reach Suzy’s office and sit at her desk side by side for a half-hour going over some of the background and basic information about SWAC. Then Suzy takes from one of the bookshelves a fat binder containing all of last year’s minutes, and hands it to Judith to read at home. When they’re standing by the door, Suzy asks brightly, “So we’re all set, then?”
“Yes,” says Judith.
Suzy beams at her. “Great!” she says. Then she reaches out her hand, and shakes Judith’s. Half-mockingly, but also half-seriously — ceremoniously, even. “Welcome to SWAC.”
“Thanks,” says Judith, their hands still clasped. Last week Suzy taught them about contracting with clients in social work, and it feels now like she and Suzy have just formalized an important and solemn contract. Or even more than that: like hands and lips are in a way interchangeable, and this contract is being Sealed With A Kiss.
Driving off the campus and through downtown Dunhill, Judith is grinning from ear to ear. “Me!” she crows to herself. “She picked me out of everyone!”
Turning onto the highway toward Toronto, she can see herself sitting with Suzy in Le Petit Café, the mini-cafeteria at Dunhill — not the main, big cafeteria in FRANK, but the smaller, quieter, less crowded one a few buildings over, where you go if you want to be able to hear the other person and have a real conversation. They’ll sit at one of the small, round aqua-and-pink tables, like knightesses at the Round Table, while they work together, tête-à-tête, their dirty dishes from onion soup, salad, or pizza pushed to one side. After their work is done, and the agenda for that night’s meeting all worked out, there will still be a half-hour or even more till the meeting begins. So they’ll linger over coffee and talk about more personal things. Suzy will confide in her about Natalie, and about the rest of her family, too; maybe Judith will confide in her about her problems with Bobby. It won’t take long, she’s sure, just a few of these dinners, before they’re talking intimately and become real friends.
The traffic moves slowly, but Judith doesn’t mind — she’s happily daydreaming about her dinners with Suzy. Eventually, on her right, the huge Brick warehouse appears, telling her she’s already halfway to Toronto. Suddenly she feels tired and her elation starts to fade. She reflects now more soberly on how much work the SWAC committee will entail. Probably more than the “few hours a week” Suzy mentioned — committees usually do. And what exactly will be expected of her as co-chair? Suzy wasn’t very specific. Though she did say that one reason she picked Judith was that she had a strong sense of social justice. It’s true, she thinks. But it’s funny, because she has no idea where she got this from. Bobby’s asked her about this: “Why do you burn like this over social and political issues? Why does injustice bother you so much?” She’s never had an answer for him. No terrible injustice or “oppression” has ever personally happened to her. But now, driving past farms, silos, white fences, and grazing horses, she remembers her beloved
