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Things to do
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The Rev. Kaaren Anderson, co-parish minister at First Unitarian Church of Rochester, says she finds inspiration in her mother and has always wanted to own a Harley.
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Personal: 44, of Pittsford; married with three children, Nils,15; Solvieg, 12; and Neva, 7.
Occupation: Co-Parish Minister, First Unitarian Church of Rochester.
Community activities: Reproductive rights advocacy, support for labor and living wage rights.
My favorite thing to do in Rochester: Walking out my backdoor into amazing beauty — Mendon Ponds, the canal path, Powder Mills Park.
Biggest challenge I’ve overcome and how I did it: Not fitting the stereotypical minister as Garrison Keillor explains it: wearing earth tones, tweed jackets, being genuinely earnest, and possessing a moving baritone voice. Some of my favorite colleagues fit this, but you can’t make a female voice drop to the occasion. How to overcome it? Like my colleagues who fit the stereotype, who are best when they live into their earnest, prophetic self, I’ve learned to live into my particular gifts, calling and voice. Then, when I’m not trying to be something I never will be, I am at my best.
One thing I’ve always wanted to do but never have: Own a Harley Davidson and ride it daily.
If I could change one thing about myself it would be: Not interrupting someone when they are sharing their ideas or inspiration. My enthusiasm for their passion, their energy, gets ahead of me.
The talent I would most like to have: Linear thinking or flying — they’re tied.
The one thing I can’t live without: My family, but wool socks are in the mix, too.
My favorite movie: Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing.
One of my favorite sayings is: From a quirky artist poet, Brian Andreas, who keeps me mindful that life is about service and you can’t do that by sitting on the couch: “Of course I want to save the world, she said, but I was hoping to do it from the comfort of my regular life.”
A person who has inspired me (and why): My mother. In 1958, she got a partial scholarship to the University of Illinois for engineering. Her father informed her that women weren’t engineers and if she took the scholarship, he wouldn’t pay for the rest of college. She went to a liberal arts college instead, got a teaching degree and taught math and chemistry. When she got pregnant with me, she was promptly fired. Apparently, high school students at the time couldn’t handle seeing a pregnant woman, might give them ideas — crazy, but district policy. Once I was born, she was hired back. When I was a toddler, she went part-time to graduate school and received her master’s degree in library science.
Instead of a “sensible” car, she drove a Triumph Spitfire to work, the kind of British sports car that makes you feel like your behind is scraping on the ground when you sit in it. All the other mothers I knew stayed at home, drove station wagons, and volunteered in the classroom. She worked her way up the ladder, despite the small town culture, her father, what was expected of her. She had a boss when I was 12, who shamelessly told her that if she slept with him, advancement in the district would be easier. She talked to the superintendent. He was eventually fired. She was hired by Apple computers in the late 1980s and was awarded their most prestigious honor twice, named one of the top 100 employees out of a pool of 12,000 or so.
She taught me about chutzpa, and to be true to yourself no matter people’s judgments, expectations or thoughts about you. Her modeling has served me well. I’m grateful for her example.
