En la muerte, tan temprana, de nuestra amiga Casandra Tate (Nieman`77) es imposible no recordar algunas anécdotas que mostraban su personalidad tan singular.
Cassandra Tate, periodista
Era inconformista, irreductible, rebelde, pero, a la vez, tierna, generosa y cariñosa. Ha sido una mujer adelantada a su tiempo. Lo vimos en sus libros, en sus artículos, en el ejercicio del periodismo y, en mi caso, también en los “beer and cheese seminars” de la Nieman Foundation de la Universidad de Harvard.
Casandra y su familia fueron nuestros huéspedes en Madrid y ellos me dieron cobijo en su casa de Seattle cuando acudí allí como corresponsal del grupo El País o de TVE. Desde que compartí con ella el año Nieman nunca perdimos el contacto ni el cariño mutuo. Era generosa a la hora de regalarnos su intuición creadora, su insumisión ante los poderosos y su buen humor.
En el invierno de 1977, un grupo de Nieman Fellows viajamos a Canadá invitados por su Gobierno. Casandra destacaba por sus preguntas agudas, críticas y, hoy diríamos, políticamente incorrectas. En alguna ocasión, me dieron ganas de darle un codazo o un toque en su pie para que rebajara el tono de sus preguntas que yo, pobre de mí, viniendo de una Dictadura, consideraba agresivo. ¿Quería protegerla? No era necesario. Casandra era valiente, casi temeraria, y no tenía pelos en la lengua al interrogar a los poderosos.
Un pequeño ejemplo me viene a la mente. El entonces embajador de Estados Unidos en Ottawa, Thomas Enders, nos invito a cenar en su casa. Cena de lujo. ¡Madre mía! Todos fuimos diplomáticos salvo Casandra. Ella criticó el lujo innecesario, el gasto excesivo de los altos funcionarios del Gobierno de su país y, por supuesto, la política exterior, a veces, tan hipócrita, de Washington. Quise meterme debajo de la mesa, pero el embajador Enders aguantó el tipo y replicó como pudo, con evasivas, a las críticas de Casandra.
Sus profecías, como las de la hija de los reyes de Troya, se fueron cumpliendo… No todas. Desde luego, sí se ha cumplido una de ellas: la revolución imparable de la mujer de nuestro tiempo en su lucha por la igualdad con el hombre. También, que no todo es pura razón, sobrevalorada, en el ser humano masculino. Ahí está la emoción, aún tan devaluada, atribuida a lo femenino. Debatíamos sobre lo objetivo y lo subjetivo, mezcla explosiva.
Casandra supo unir cerebro y corazón y aplicó esa formula magistral en su vida personal y profesional. Yo bromeaba con ella, a costa del mito homérico: la maldición de la princesa de Troya. Desde que abandonó al misógino Apolo, fue castigada por este dios masculino de la razón: nadie creería sus profecías y sería silenciada y maltratada por la lógica patriarcal de los hombres poderosos de Atenas. Nuestra Casandra no fue castigada ni ignorada sino admirada y una fuente de inspiración para todos nosotros. En cambio, Apolo, en el mundo actual, no es más que un simple tirano irracional e infantil. Los tiempos han cambiado.
La vida y la obra de mi amiga Tate fue, en efecto, una batalla imparable contra esa maldición mitológica que pesaba sobre la condición femenina durante milenios. Con su tesón y su inteligencia creadora, ella supo convertir aquella maldición en la bendición de Casandra. Yo creía sus intuiciones proféticas.
Gracias, Casandra. Descansa en Paz.
Los Nieman Fellows de Harvard (curso 1976-1977) en la escalinata de la Widener Library.
The Blessing of Cassandra
In the death, way too premature, of our friend and Nieman colleague Cassandra Tate (Nieman ´77) it is impossible not to remember some anecdotes that show her unique personality. She was a nonconformist, firm in her beliefs, rebellious, but at the same time tender, generous and affectionate. She was a woman ahead of her time. We saw this in her books, her articles, in her journalism and, in my case, also in those beer and cheese seminars of the Nieman Foundation of Harvard University.
Cassandra and her family were our guests in Madrid and they welcomed me in their house in Seattle when I went there as correspondent for the El País group or for Spanish TVE. Ever since I shared the Nieman year with her we never lost contact or our mutual affection. She was generous to regale us with her creative intuition, her refusal of submission before the powerful and her good humor.
In the winter of 1977, a group of Nieman Fellows went to Canada invited by the Canadian government. Cassandra stood out for her sharp questions and criticism, with no mincing of words. On one occasion, I had the urge to nudge her elbow or touch her foot under the table to tone down her questions which, poor me, coming from Spain that was then a dictatorship, I automatically considered too aggressive or daring. Did I want to protect her? That certainly wasn’t necessary. Cassandra was valiant, almost daring, and showed no hesitation to interrogate the powerful. A small example comes to mind. The then American ambassador in Ottawa, Thomas Enders, invited us for dinner at his home. A luxurious dinner. We were all diplomatic except for Cassandra. She criticized the unnecessary luxury, the excessive expense of high ranking civil servants of the Government of her country and, of course, the sometimes hypocritical foreign policy coming from Washington. I wanted to disappear under the table but Ambassador Enders politely endured Cassandra’s criticism and replied the best he could with evasive arguments.
Her prophecies, like those of the daughter Cassandra of the king and queen of Troy, were to come true. Not all, of course, but one stands out: the unstoppable revolution of the women of our time in their fight for equality with men. Unlike the Homeric Cassandra, our Cassandra knew how to unite the brain and the heart, reason and emotion, applying this master formula in both her personal and professional life. I joked with her at the expense of the Homeric myth: the curse of the princess of Troy. Since the Homeric Cassandra abandoned the misogynous Apollo, this tyrannical masculine god of reason punished the emotional Cassandra: no one would believe her prophecies and she was silenced and mistreated by the patriarchal logic of the powerful men of Athens. Our Cassandra was of course not punished and ignored by all but was admired and an inspiration to us all. Apollo, in turn, in today´s world is but a mere childish and irrational tyrant. The times have changed.
The life and works of my friend Tate were, in effect, an unstoppable battle against this mythological curse that has weighed down upon women for millennials. With Tate´s tenacity and creative intelligence, she knew how to convert the curse into the blessing of Cassandra. I believed in her prophetic intuitions.
Thank you, Cassandra. Rest in Peace.
Una nota de su marido Glenn Drosendahl en Facebook:
This is a story about a determined woman, a deadly disease and a book. Cassandra had been researching the story of Marcus and Narcissa Whitman off and on for nearly 10 years. They were missionaries from upstate New York who traveled across the continent to what is now Walla Walla, Washington in the late 1830s. She was diagnosed with fallopian tube cancer in September 2019. By then she had a publisher, Seattle-based Sasquatch. She decided to delay cancer treatment until she could finish the book. In early January 2020 she delivered the final corrected page proofs to her editor on the way to her first chemotherapy infusion at UW Medical Center. “Unsettled Ground: The Whitman Massacre and Its Shifting Legacy in the American West” was published in November 2020. By then Cassandra had undergone long months of chemo, then radiation, then immunotherapy infusions. The toxins gave her neuropathy, edema and Type 1 diabetes but didn’t stop the tumors. Still, she was game to promote her book. The COVID-19 pandemic made normal book readings impossible, so she did virtual ones. She also met with at least half a dozen book clubs, bolstered by their comments and some stellar reviews. She became the star of our West Seattle neighborhood, greeted on her daily walks with much praise for her book. That always boosted her spirits. She went into hospice care in mid-April after her latest CAT scan showed the cancer was spreading. She died at home on June 10, 2021. It was a painful end. Up until then she kept seeing beauty around her, kept walking and gardening and writing. Her family worshipped her. We had to wonder if she had started cancer treatment earlier, would she have had a better outcome. She never expressed regret about that, only satisfaction that “at least I finished the damn book.”
Cassandra Tate, Nieman`77
