REMEMBERING ANNA LEE

July 22, 2024 Buffalo Latino Village

What can a well-pleated skirt suit and a can-do attitude achieve? For my grandma G (as I affectionally called her), it meant a great deal. Anna Lee Kelly Gagnon was born on July 14, 1933, in North Collins, to my mother’s “Aunt Vivian”. To depict her childhood as devoid of the harsh poverty that marked rural life during the Great Depression would be to overlook the essence of her character. Irish joy, rural resourcefulness, front porches, and the freshness of open air shaped her robustly. Thirty-three years after her birth, she shed the “Anna” and emerged as a pioneering woman in the Buffalo City Clerk’s Office. The magnitude of being one of the few, or perhaps the sole, female presence in a room dominated by rigid thinkers and gray suits is immense, a feeling I have also experienced.

At the 1975 Erie County Bar Association Law Day Ceremonies, Grandma G, serving as Associate Court Clerk of the Criminal Records Room, was honored as the “Belle of the Ball.” She received “A Special Recognition” for her exceptional service to the legal profession since joining the Clerk’s Office in 1966. Notably, she was the first woman to be recognized in accordance with the theme.

Mom mentioned she doesn’t believe Aunt Vivian (Grandma G’s mother) went to high school. What significance did that award have for the farm? As one among numerous Irish siblings, Grandma G possessed the ability to discern your strengths and weaknesses with a quick, sharp gaze from her bright blue eyes. She grasped the fragility of my Latina identity and urged me to pursue political science, instilling in me the belief that I was a critical & serious thinker from a young age. She instilled a sense of capability in me, and I know I wasn’t alone. Her resolve and self-assurance have cleared paths for many. Grandma G embodied the essence of country values, akin to a refreshing glass of ice-cold lemonade. A critical thinker, she would sit by a bible, offering a knowing wink. As I drive up from the southern towns, the moment I round that bend and the cityscape unfolds before me, I’m reminded of her and the lives of rural women throughout America. What would be the cost now for Grandma G to leave the farm and settle into the neat rows of suburban brick homes? How accessible is the urban and regional job market for rural women, and how do we support those who cannot simply pack a suitcase and leave? What measures can we take to connect them? I reflect on their access to information, opportunities, healthcare, educational facilities, and services that affirm women. I frequently contemplate how rural living contributes to the “diversity” we strive to attain—quite significantly, in my opinion.

When I failed the bar exam, Grandma G wasn’t bothered. She unquestionably anticipated that I would retake it. Over and over, until I succeeded. Presumably, she considered her own journey; she became a clerk, and two generations later, I graduated from Law School. To her, that signified progress, yet I still have a debt to repay her. This month, reflect on how you face your challenges and opportunities in comparison to your counterparts in the country. Do you approach them with equal determination? To understand their social realities better, consider reading the 2023 USDA’s “Rural America at a Glance.” If you’re among those in rural areas navigating your path, persist in your efforts. Don’t allow fatigue to dampen your aspirations. Whether you take to the actual highways or the digital ones, Buffalo’s job market awaits both in-person and online. Remember, if Grandma G could do it, so can you. Just apply some elbow grease. Why not give it a try?