Wits End

Finding the fun(d) in the trail

It’s a tricky notion, one’s legacy. It can seem so final, so fixed, so fatalistic – but it is actually a living, growing thing, writes Professor Chris Thurman.

In a recent phone conversation with the WITSReview editorial office, I mentioned that for this issue I’d be writing about death. There was a nervous laugh and then an awkward silence on the other end of the line. The emphasis promised by this column’s playful title is, after all, on wit (and by implication something upbeat). Readers have just made their way through the obituaries and should not be expected to continue contemplating The End all the way to, well, the end.

But when death casts a pall over life, it doesn’t keep to convenient times and seasons, never mind page numbers. It retreats and returns, it fades away but then catches us unawares. Wordsworth wrote about being “surprised by joy” in the midst of grief: those moments when, mourning the loss of a loved one, we briefly forget that they are gone – only to be reminded of their absence with devastating sorrow, now compounded by guilt. Processing the death of a family member, a friend or a colleague, or even a prominent figure we didn’t know personally, often entails recalling (sometimes reliving) previous periods of grieving. In September I learned of the death of James Loehlin, a much-loved professor at the University of Texas (UT) at Austin and the director of UT’s flagship Shakespeare at Winedale programme. Every spring and summer for over two decades, Loehlin took students out into the Texas countryside and made actors of them. It was a formative experience; being a “Winedaler” became part of their identity and stayed with them.

For two years, thanks to a course shared virtually by English students at UT and Wits, South African students were also able to benefit from Loehlin’s expertise and care as a teacher and mentor. I learned much from him as I observed him, online and in person, working his magic with young people. He had a gift and he shared it generously, resulting in an enviable legacy that was in no way diminished by his premature passing.

Earlier in 2023 the Wits community mourned the loss of another figure whose legacy is secure despite his untimely death. I was fortunate to befriend Eusebius McKaiser during our salad days at Rhodes University in Makhanda, but when I think of McKaiser during his “Johannesburg years” as a broadcaster, author and public intellectual I recall his connections to Wits: an associate of the Wits Centre for Ethics and the Philosophy Department, and a regular presence on campus as host or guest of seminars and panel discussions.

In the months following his death, it has sadly been discernible how narrow-minded individuals, opportunistic politicians and even conspiracy theorists have attempted to hijack the uncomfortable conversations that McKaiser facilitated and often led regarding race, class, sexuality, religion, culture, party politics and numerous other aspects of life in post-apartheid South Africa. Yet McKaiser’s legacy, too, remains intact: he helped to shape and sustain a culture of reasoned discussion and debate around these subjects that our country has desperately needed and will continue to need.

It’s a tricky notion, one’s legacy. It can seem so final, so fixed, so fatalistic – but it is actually a living, growing thing. It is unpredictable; it is relative to changing public moods, fashions and historical currents.

No doubt as an alumnus or friend of Wits University you, dear reader of WITSReview, have been asked to reflect on that word, legacy. How can you support the legacy of Wits as it celebrates 100 years? Have you considered what your own legacy will be once you have shuffled off this mortal coil?

Perhaps you have reflected and committed to a donation or bequest. Perhaps you have politely declined; if so, I wouldn’t blame you. I’m not particularly good at contributing to worthy causes myself. But spare a thought for the fundraisers.

Recently I gave it a try, taking up an invitation from race sponsors EasyEquities to participate in the Otter African Trail Run Challenge event: known as the “Grail of Trail”, the Otter is a gruelling and sublime slog along 42km of unforgiving but beautiful Garden Route coastline. (Usually it takes five days. We were tasked with doing it in one.) This gave me the opportunity to start a fundraising campaign for Wits students in financial need. I got a lot of Facebook likes but comparatively few campaign contributions. I suppose the almost inversely proportional relationship between social media activity and real-world action is a defining characteristic of our age.

Apart from that, I don’t think there is a moral to my failed fundraising story. Perhaps the upshot of it all is, next time someone asks me for a donation, I will recall the muscle cramps, cuts and bruises of my Otter adventure ... and I’ll contribute. Because running up, down, around and along coastal cliffs, forests and rocky shores for seven hours may be painful – but it is also life-affirming.

Out on the trail, you have a lot of time to think and you have no choice but to feel. Somewhere between the endorphins and the exhaustion there is emotional susceptibility. You feel renewed sorrow for the dearly departed; you feel profound gratitude for the loved ones to whom you will soon return. And while you don’t have time or energy to think about your legacy, you experience an almost-mystical connection to those who have come before you and those who will follow after you.

Life, death, trail running and tax-deductible donations – it’s a lot to process. No wonder I was crying when I crossed the finish line.

Chris Thurman is Professor in the English Department and director of the Tsikinya-Chaka Centre