Interview with A. Fletcher, a Woman of Gentle Strength
- patdurmon
- 5 hours ago
- 9 min read
A. Fletcher, in what part of Arkansas are your roots?
Fayetteville, Arkansas.
The northwest part of Arkansas. What was it like for you to grow up there in the Fifties and Sixties?
It was great. I had four younger siblings. We had a lot of fun together, but in other ways, it was difficult in that my parents were heavy drinkers, so there were chaotic times, too. Also, the Sixties were a tumultuous time in Arkansas, race-wise. We had two wonderful black maids who came and cleaned the house, and I loved them. I got to go to school with black children, and I remember exchanging school photos with them. Fayetteville was one of the first places in the South to integrate schools.
Those were the years of the Civil Rights Movement. When I first met you, A. Fletcher, we were in our thirties, in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and team-teaching a course called Adult Growth and Personal Effectiveness. I’d say you have lived a productive and generous life. As you look back, what do you see that’s made your life feel worthwhile?
A lot of things. One thing that comes to mind is my three children and three grandchildren. They have given my life a big purpose. Another thing, continuing to work on my relationship with my husband was important to both of us. And third, I am a Licensed Professional Counselor, always trying to help other people solve personal problems. Each of these has added meaning to my life.
In Jonesboro, Arkansas, you were in private practice as an LPC (Licensed Professional Counselor), and you are still opting to work in counseling. Talk about your journey, your work, your passions. And what drew you from Arkansas to New Mexico?
My passion is making art. I came to Santa Fe about 20 years ago to become a part of the art scene. Making art, selling art, buying art. My husband and I were able to keep two homes. We’d go back and forth until this last year. My husband of 62 years would often say, “Our marriage works so well because we live in two different states—she gets to do what she loves, and I get to do what I love!”
And he was known for his sense of humor! Not only are you committed to helping people, but you have children who are involved in the helping fields and arts. Is that right?
That is true. All three of my children are involved in helping people. We have two social workers and one drug/alcohol counselor. Both daughters and one of my granddaughters are artists. They don’t get to spend as much time making art as I do, but they are very good. And my granddaughter is finishing her degree and will eventually teach art.
A. Fletcher, you have left your mark on your children. You are also a new widow, in the midst of passing from one stage to another. Thank you for being open to answering my questions. Even in grief, we have our precious moments, don’t we? How are you doing?
I’m doing the best I can. Actually, pretty well. David is never more than a thought away. I grieve the loss of him. I also have a health issue, an eye issue. It’s called macular degeneration. I’m going blind in one eye. So, I’m grieving that loss, too.
Oh, I’m sorry. Macular degeneration?
Yes. It’s scary, but no significant changes in the last six weeks. I have lots of backup from my family. And my daughter Laura lives a half-block away from me. Always there to help me. And once a month, the family in Arkansas and the family in New Mexico zoom with each other to share any updates in the family. We’re trying to stay connected. But there’s nothing they can do to stop the degeneration. As it progresses, I won’t be able to drive, and we’ll be looking at assisted living options. It’s not the happiest time. This is what has been given to me, so I have to walk in it. So far, I continue to see clients, and I still make art.
Your family is in your corner and ready to help you. I hear that. And you are still counseling and making art. You make me think of the poet Ruth Stone. In spite of going blind, she wrote her poetry and earned the national distinction of poet laureate of the United States.. I think you and she have an inner strength.
My art comes from the internal, too. I start working, and whatever comes out, that’s it. Therapy work and art work. It’s intuitive. Feels like it’s been given to me. I see the art as compatible with my counseling. I also have what I call The Teabag Project. The teabags I use in my paintings come from all over the world. It’s my way of saying, “Let there be Peace throughout the world.”
Beautiful. I remember when you were gathering used teabags. In fact, I have one of your teabag paintings on a wall in our home. A. Fletcher, how do you manage to be a counselor and an artist? How do you manage, time-wise? It sounds like both are important to you.
Yeah, I do have to juggle the time.
As we age, we need inspiration and hope. Did you have mentors, women older than yourself who were living their old age the way you wanted to live your older years?
I’ve had women mentors all the way. Mattie Britton, when I was in college, was my first mentor. She was head of Food Services at Washington General Hospital in Fayetteville. Another was Mary Matthews, a social worker I knew in Little Rock. She was a great source of inspiration. I sometimes think Mary was an angel in my life. So many others. And now, I find myself being a mentor to other women!
I'm not surprised that you are a mentor to other people. How did you find your mentors?
They were women I shared life with. They were friends. They just showed up in my life.
I love that. They showed up, so you didn’t have to go hunting for them. Now, I want to talk with you about old age. When I say “old age,” I’m talking about women who have lived at least seven decades. How did we ever get here? And is it important to decide how to be old? Do you have a little plan for this stage of life?
My general plan is to live it one day at a time. I have things in place for steadiness. I have my therapy work and being part owner in an art gallery. I want those things to continue. I still make art. I can still do that. I don’t like TV. Never have. As my eyes go, I won’t be able to read. Together, art and counseling make up a full-time job. I really like my work. Another goal I still have is to keep working with poems about women and combining them with art.
Things are yet to come from you. Lovely. I keep hearing that “now” is the most precious moment of life. What do you think?
It is one of the most precious moments of life. I’ve had other precious moments, too. Moments with nature, catching the light coming through a window, being with friends, being with art, being with a client. That’s how I make it. I just show up. You have to show up!
A. Fletcher, showing up is great advice. What advice would you give to women in their sixties to enlighten or inspire them? You are further along than they are, so you may know things they don’t know.
Focus on enjoying the moment. Be where you are at your age. Focus on gratitude. Ask for help for pieces of your life that are not going well.
Oh, that’s really good, asking for help for pieces that are not going well.
My sixties was one of my best decades. When I was in my sixties, Mary Matthews once said she was so glad that I was finally getting to play with my art.
And you must have appreciated her caring words. I think your mentor gave you her blessing for spending time with art in Santa Fe.
Yes. I also have a Black Belt in Al-Anon, so while working, I was able to detach with love when my own kids went down the road of messing around with drugs and alcohol. My life is one life. I detached and I did art and counseling. You see, I believe God gave me one life. I don’t want to waste it by trying to control anyone else. Hard for some people to get ahold of that concept, but I don’t want to control anyone except myself.
I hear you. Sounds like you know where you start and stop. Very good. I’ve never heard the term “Black Belt in Al-Anon.” I love it. Congratulations. A. Fletcher, there are young people who are old at forty, and there are old people who are young at ninety. You are attractive, and you still have a vivaciousness unrelated to your years. Now, how many years have you lived?
This month, I’ll be 83 years old.
You look great. How did you take care of yourself? Care to share your secret?
I was given the gift of exercise. Some people hate exercise. But I love it. Even as a child and as a teen, I’d run home, run to the baseball diamond or to the store. Wherever I went, I ran. I loved the movement, I guess. That’s hard for me to give up. I can’t play tennis or bike anymore. Those are other losses. But I can still walk. I can eat right. I never liked to overeat. Also, I was a Home Economics major in college. I knew what was healthy. And happily, my mother didn’t force me to eat or make me feel guilty about food left on the plate.
You have not had a life without struggles.
No, certainly not.
You are a cancer survivor. After you were diagnosed and treated for breast cancer, did you have any new realizations?
No. Somehow I knew I was going to beat it. And again, I had such wonderful support, especially from my husband and sister. No thoughts that this was going to kill me. I think I deal with life as it comes. Not trying to be nonchalant here, but we have to be willing to adapt to life. The good news is that we can adapt.
We can adapt. We have an outer body, and then those feelings on the inside. How did you come to accept who you are, on the inside and the outside?
For me, it was the School of Hard Knocks. Good came along. Bad came along. I didn’t know anything else. Partly, I was born into an era in my part of the world. Born in the South at that time, and there was "no free lunch." You were expected to get up, show up, be active in the community. No one was going to give it to you. When there were expectations, we went with it. We had to do it.
At this point in my life, I want to simplify things. Can you identify with that?
I don’t think of it that way. I think about it as adjusting to the moment or going with the flow. I’m not dwelling on simplifying. I think I’m paying attention to my limitations and adjusting.
Adjusting is very important, especially when we cannot change things. So when you are in your eighties, you may lose friend after friend. What do you think is most helpful in dealing with all those losses?
Allowing yourself to go ahead and feel your feelings. Acknowledge that loss is just part of life. That’s accepting that this death thing is part of this stage of life. We acknowledge, then accept.
According to M.F.K. Fisher, an American writer, “Parts of the aging process are scary, but the more we know about them, the less scary they are.”
In our culture, I think we tend to hush-hush or bury the process of death and dying. Some other cultures have done better than we have. I think it’s a loss to not talk about death. My mother would not share anything that was happening to her. She was so scared. She would not talk about it, and there was a sad cut-off because she wouldn’t talk about it.
How do you see yourself doing this process?
I’m an extrovert. I’m going out talking! The people we love need to give space and permission for the dying one to talk. I’m going out talking!
We are laughing, A. Fletcher, but you are open and gentle and strong. You are a thinker, very much alive, and I’m trusting you to tell your children not to fill in all the talking space when it’s your time, because you need to go out talking.
Yes, I will. I will tell them.
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A. Fletcher tells us, "Moments with nature, catching the light coming through a window, being with friends, being with art.... You have to show up!" Drawing of A. Fletcher by Mary Chambers of Jonesboro, Arkansas.
Poetry Books by Pat Durmon
Prose by Pat Durmon
The story of Lee R. Farrier from Norfork, Arkansas, is Pat's first book of prose and a tribute to Lee, the town of Norfork, and its people. All profits from sales go toward a scholarship at Norfork High School.
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