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A Very Simple Secret: My parents, their mission to change the world, and me
Judi’s parents were on a mission to remake the world. These were the Cold War years of the 1950s and ‘60s, following a catastrophic world war and the breaking up of colonial empires. The couple had joined many others in giving up conventional careers and family life to work for Moral Re-Armament (MRA), an extensive global movement in its hey-day. Their life goal was to build a ‘hate-free, fear-free, greed-free world’.
Between the ages of four and twelve Judi stayed in a series of shared homes and boarding schools while her parents travelled. Uncertain where she belonged, she dreaded being asked what her father did or where she lived, becoming anxious and guarded, almost to breaking point.
The author interweaves her unusual childhood memoir with her parents’ parallel story, pieced together from contemporary archives and accounts. She offers a unique insight into the work of the controversial MRA movement, encouraging readers to draw their own conclusions.
Between the ages of four and twelve Judi stayed in a series of shared homes and boarding schools while her parents travelled. Uncertain where she belonged, she dreaded being asked what her father did or where she lived, becoming anxious and guarded, almost to breaking point.
The author interweaves her unusual childhood memoir with her parents’ parallel story, pieced together from contemporary archives and accounts. She offers a unique insight into the work of the controversial MRA movement, encouraging readers to draw their own conclusions.
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Published January 28, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 29, 2024
A fascinating story - thank you.
January 28, 2024
This book illustrates the paradox experienced by families in a close-knit international movement whose world-changing aims appeared to require the sacrifice of normal family life. The movement in question was Moral Re-Armament (MRA); the time was the postwar period of the late 40s to the 60s, when rival ideologies of the left and right vied for the control of individuals and nations.
As Conner writes from her own ‘boomer’ childhood experience within this movement, her parents ‘solved’ the problem of what to do with her on their many and long overseas missions by leaving her with carers, sometimes related but often not, and at a series of boarding schools. A sense of parental abandonment was to haunt her, and she describes candidly her ever present fear of being asked what her parents did, and some of the coping strategies she devised.
Conner recounts without judgment some of the fruits of her parents’ and their colleagues’ work overseas: for anyone wanting to know more about the background to post-war reconciliation that took place between France and Germany, Japan and the Philippines, and Greeks and Turks in Cyprus, there is a wealth of material here on the often unseen and unsung role played by MRA, among other such unofficial groups. These international ‘success stories’ provide a vivid counterfoil to the author’s intensely personal anguish as she was shifted from pillar to post, her material needs met but her parental needs starved, ironically in the name of building sound family life and peace in the family of nations. What makes her account particularly poignant is the sense of a divine mandate on the decisions taken by her parents and their peers, and that questioning this, whether by the parents or the children, was considered ‘selfish’. Conner’s mother in particular did question it at times, but initially gave way to the then prevailing consensus that the world mission came first. It is this and the movement’s all-encompassing reach into the most personal areas of life that marks it out from the more common experience of, for example, children of civil servants overseas in colonial times (Conner does however cite a parallel case in the memoir of South African born Gillian Slovo, whose committed Communist parents subordinated family life to ideological aims).
Conner’s book finishes on a satisfyingly hopeful note, although when I got to the end I wanted to go on reading …
As Conner writes from her own ‘boomer’ childhood experience within this movement, her parents ‘solved’ the problem of what to do with her on their many and long overseas missions by leaving her with carers, sometimes related but often not, and at a series of boarding schools. A sense of parental abandonment was to haunt her, and she describes candidly her ever present fear of being asked what her parents did, and some of the coping strategies she devised.
Conner recounts without judgment some of the fruits of her parents’ and their colleagues’ work overseas: for anyone wanting to know more about the background to post-war reconciliation that took place between France and Germany, Japan and the Philippines, and Greeks and Turks in Cyprus, there is a wealth of material here on the often unseen and unsung role played by MRA, among other such unofficial groups. These international ‘success stories’ provide a vivid counterfoil to the author’s intensely personal anguish as she was shifted from pillar to post, her material needs met but her parental needs starved, ironically in the name of building sound family life and peace in the family of nations. What makes her account particularly poignant is the sense of a divine mandate on the decisions taken by her parents and their peers, and that questioning this, whether by the parents or the children, was considered ‘selfish’. Conner’s mother in particular did question it at times, but initially gave way to the then prevailing consensus that the world mission came first. It is this and the movement’s all-encompassing reach into the most personal areas of life that marks it out from the more common experience of, for example, children of civil servants overseas in colonial times (Conner does however cite a parallel case in the memoir of South African born Gillian Slovo, whose committed Communist parents subordinated family life to ideological aims).
Conner’s book finishes on a satisfyingly hopeful note, although when I got to the end I wanted to go on reading …
February 21, 2024
Judi Conner’s largely compelling account of her peripatetic childhood, “A Very Simple Secret,” was especially involving for me with how my early years were also spent regularly on the move. And like her I was always discomforted by questions about my family situation, though in my case
the question that made for the most discomfort was where I was from – I was born in Spokane, but we moved just months afterward – rather than in her case what her father did.
Easier to answer for me, the latter, because there was no great difficulty in understanding what my dad did – he was a career military officer – whereas in Judi's case the explanation was a little trickier with how both her parents were emissaries for Moral Re-Armament (MRA), a Christian-based peace-seeking group which even after some online research I was a little confused about. Hard enough, at any rate, to understand its mission that when Judi was asked at school what her father did she had to resort to bringing in some explanatory material for her teacher.
So not the most easily communicated thing, what her parents did, with the feeling of foreignness it made for her exacerbated by the family’s regular relocating, which Judi handled well enough, but the strain would show on occasion. There was the time, for instance, when she flared at her grandmother, who’d merely made a suggestion about Judi’s piano playing, or when she staged a minor strike of sorts at one school or did some biting and bullying at another.
A minor thing, granted, her personal distress, against the world crises that MRA was attempting to address, but even so it had great resonance for me. For instance, although I never had to live in a school dorm, as Judi did, some of my schoolmates at one of our overseas assignments did, so I could well relate to Judi’s account of very small children, no doubt apart from their parents for the first time, crying themselves to sleep.
So: an evocative walk down memory lane for me, Conner’s book, even if the prologue, in which Judi and her mother shed tears as they begin their respective journeys into their past, gave me to think that there might be some sort of mystery or secret that was going to be unlocked in the course of the book. But in the end the book proved to be pretty much a straightforward memoir which even with some off-putting organizational detail about MRA made for an informative and at-times compelling read, particularly with my having grown up, as Judi did, outside the normal childhood experience.
the question that made for the most discomfort was where I was from – I was born in Spokane, but we moved just months afterward – rather than in her case what her father did.
Easier to answer for me, the latter, because there was no great difficulty in understanding what my dad did – he was a career military officer – whereas in Judi's case the explanation was a little trickier with how both her parents were emissaries for Moral Re-Armament (MRA), a Christian-based peace-seeking group which even after some online research I was a little confused about. Hard enough, at any rate, to understand its mission that when Judi was asked at school what her father did she had to resort to bringing in some explanatory material for her teacher.
So not the most easily communicated thing, what her parents did, with the feeling of foreignness it made for her exacerbated by the family’s regular relocating, which Judi handled well enough, but the strain would show on occasion. There was the time, for instance, when she flared at her grandmother, who’d merely made a suggestion about Judi’s piano playing, or when she staged a minor strike of sorts at one school or did some biting and bullying at another.
A minor thing, granted, her personal distress, against the world crises that MRA was attempting to address, but even so it had great resonance for me. For instance, although I never had to live in a school dorm, as Judi did, some of my schoolmates at one of our overseas assignments did, so I could well relate to Judi’s account of very small children, no doubt apart from their parents for the first time, crying themselves to sleep.
So: an evocative walk down memory lane for me, Conner’s book, even if the prologue, in which Judi and her mother shed tears as they begin their respective journeys into their past, gave me to think that there might be some sort of mystery or secret that was going to be unlocked in the course of the book. But in the end the book proved to be pretty much a straightforward memoir which even with some off-putting organizational detail about MRA made for an informative and at-times compelling read, particularly with my having grown up, as Judi did, outside the normal childhood experience.
January 20, 2024
Thanks to NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. This was a hard book to read and it was not what I was expecting. I was expecting a memoir of a girl growing up with parents who were involved in a political organization during the Cold War. This is what I got: for the first half of the book, it read like a nonfiction historical text which had more to do with WW II, leading up to the Cold War. The second half of the book was a memoir of sorts, but one that had more to do with the author's different prep boarding schools away from her parents.
On the plus side, the historical material was at times interesting and, I suspect, well researched. It was just a lot. The memoir portion, however, was generally repetitive. There was not a lot of dialogue which would have made that portion more lively. I think if someone knew something about the organization and went into it with their eyes open, it may be a better read.
On the plus side, the historical material was at times interesting and, I suspect, well researched. It was just a lot. The memoir portion, however, was generally repetitive. There was not a lot of dialogue which would have made that portion more lively. I think if someone knew something about the organization and went into it with their eyes open, it may be a better read.
January 28, 2024
Having meticulously researched the era of 1950s and ‘60s, in particular trying to discover what would have propelled her parents and many like them, to dedicate their full time, working voluntarily, internationally for Moral Re Armament, the author writes of her parent’s mission to ‘remake the world’.
At the same time, she, as a young pre schooler was left behind, staying in a variety of homes of her parents’ friends with numerous care givers and Nannie’s throughout her childhood, and then later in several boarding schools.
Compassionately, with understanding and free from any blame she tells her parent’s story, and alongside, pulling no punches, she tells her side of the story.
Experiencing abandonment and being separated from her parents at a young age, she navigated a world of confusion, grief and uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what her parents were doing or when she would see them again.
A moving memoir, bringing to life the impact of choosing between family and mission.
At the same time, she, as a young pre schooler was left behind, staying in a variety of homes of her parents’ friends with numerous care givers and Nannie’s throughout her childhood, and then later in several boarding schools.
Compassionately, with understanding and free from any blame she tells her parent’s story, and alongside, pulling no punches, she tells her side of the story.
Experiencing abandonment and being separated from her parents at a young age, she navigated a world of confusion, grief and uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what her parents were doing or when she would see them again.
A moving memoir, bringing to life the impact of choosing between family and mission.
April 13, 2024
I enjoyed this book and there were bits I could easily relate to. This is an autobiography, Judi Connor gives an account of her childhood away from her parents. Judi found it difficult to identify with the other children at her boarding school. She dreaded having to explain about her parents and their lifestyle. They were part of a a moral re-armament peace group. Judi as an adult is looking back at her own past, whilst her mother is doing the same, as she is now living with dementia. There are sad aspects to the book and some things that need further explanations, This group the MRA is not one I am familiar with but the times they lived in I was. I find it enjoyable to find a book leads to reading up on the facts. I thought it was good to be reminded of our differences and that things have gone on around us, without us knowing and understanding. This book feels an honest account and is compelling read.
February 10, 2024
Like not a few children of her era, Judi Conner was 'dumped' in a series of boarding schools from an early age, her parents usually abroad working unpaid for the faith-based pressure group Moral Rearmament in various countries.
This compelling memoir recounts her childhood experiences without bitterness or recrimination, while leaving the reader in no doubt of the unhappiness felt by a child in a family where hugs and kisses were unthinkable and upper lips were stiff. Remarkably, though, Judi Conner includes sections told from her parents' point of view, making the book an unusually empathetic and satisfying account of a kind of childhood which, one hopes, is unlikely ever to be replicated.
This compelling memoir recounts her childhood experiences without bitterness or recrimination, while leaving the reader in no doubt of the unhappiness felt by a child in a family where hugs and kisses were unthinkable and upper lips were stiff. Remarkably, though, Judi Conner includes sections told from her parents' point of view, making the book an unusually empathetic and satisfying account of a kind of childhood which, one hopes, is unlikely ever to be replicated.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews