reclaiming the matrix
by kate reynolds

Blame it on Hollywood.

It’s the pop culture phenomenon “Matrix” films, with their sinister vision of the Apollonian dream run amok; a nightmare scenario of a future world of humans who are literal slaves to their computers. Equations and logic and coding, oh my!
It gives the matrix a bad name.

Long before the left-brain warriors co-opted the term to define their conceptual grids, the word was far more grounded. The matrix was a female animal used for breeding or the parent plant, derived from the Latin mater. That’s right. The Great Mother. Take that, Keanu Reeves!

Here in the lush, feral landscape of Western North Carolina, efforts are afoot to reclaim the matrix. There are no slick leather ensembles here. No cyber-sunglasses or crotch-rocket motorcycles evident. Just two women of a certain age with a vision of an inclusive, ongoing conversation between individuals that taps the resources of technology, but is fueled the human spirit.

Julie Parker Savage and Sandi Tomlin-Sutker seem unlikely heroines. Warm-spirited and gentle-eyed, they share a comforting good humor and subtle wit. Yet each comes to the mission with an impressive, if somewhat eclectic, resume.

Julie—an artist turned computer geek (for the U.S. government in Washington D.C.) turned academic—was present at the nascence of the World Wide Web, writing code and connecting the fragile strands. Sandi, too, followed the path of academia to a degree in Political Science, after moving to Savannah, raising a family and channeling her substantial energies into the food co-op movement.

Eventually, each found her way to Asheville, drawn by the simpler, more grounded life the mountains offered—the strong sense of place. Julie began her web design business, Handwoven Webs. Sandi went into retail—First Native Expressions, then The Natural Home.

At First Night celebrations for the new millennium, Julie met Sandi. (How Hollywood is that?). Before long, they were collaborating on a website for Sandi’s business and realizing that they were symbiotic and simpatico, practically thinking each other’s thoughts. Website completed, they were eager to find another project, one that addressed a broader, more fundamental set of concerns. The matrix was forming.

Both women were dedicated to the practice of recording their personal journeys. They were finding answers, too, in the place that they had come to call home. “These are the oldest mountains in the world. People come here for the spiritual depth of the geography,” says Sandi. “The aboriginal peoples—the Cherokee and the Creek—and the settlers—Scots and Irish —they knew it. A simple, deep connection to the ground you’re living on.”

Julie agrees. “We want to emphasize that wisdom is local,” she says. “We don’t have to seek it in Chicago or New York, or anywhere out there. It’s right here, in abundance, in the women living in these mountains. And ultimately we discover that the wisdom is within ourselves.”

But how to share the wisdom —and the experience of it? Parker and Tomlin-Sutker felt compelled to open a channel, but were uncertain of its form. They considered e-books, but somehow, the concept never gelled.

An inkling of something from the past awoke them to some new possibilities. Years earlier, while working on her doctoral thesis, Julie had designed and facilitated several online seminars for doctoral students called Multimedia, Hypermedia, and the Social Construction of Knowledge. It sparked her.

In revisiting this concept, “I got really excited about the resurgence of the letter from previous centuries,” says Julie. “I saw the high tech of email as allowing us to be more high touch than we really have been for a century. Women are separated by geography and time. It is so difficult to get everyone in the same room at the same time. I started to think about how women could become more interconnected, interdependent and interactive. How could women connect by writing?”

One fine June afternoon, an angel, in the guise of a friend named Sandra Huie, delivered the annunciation over lunch. “You know, you should really do a magazine for women in Western North Carolina.” A convergence. An aha! moment.

“But of course,” the women thought, and promptly swung into action.
The answer, it seemed, was not in cyberspace alone, but in the relatively low-tech and somewhat retro realm of print. “Not everybody’s on the Web.” Julie notes. A free magazine, however, is available, portable, intimate and immediate. Something, well, real.

The magazine would be a dialogue. In this context “the print medium, ironically, is like email. It’s not Western North Carolina Woman talking to women, it’s the women talking to each other through the vehicle of the magazine, supported by our website.”

Parker and Tomlin-Sutker started by 'gathering the women' (see gatherthewomen.org) with a series of monthly focus groups. They created a vision statement. They applied for one of Oprah’s “Oxygen” grants that, although it did not bear financial fruit, helped them to focus on creating a bona-fide business plan. The funding? Initially, they were “running on faith”. But enough local backers did materialize to get started, and less than four months and ten days after the seed, Western North Carolina Woman took root.

They laughingly remember the insanity and excitement of the first issue. “It was way wabi-sabi!” Sandi grins. O.K, so several of the stories ended on the wrong page and one of the stories never did end and a few of the ads got misplaced, but with good grace and the gentle coaxing of veteran print guru Steve Koletnik of the Asheville Citizen Times, the infant was delivered—a bouncing baby girl.

Despite the fact that WNC Woman was born in winter and in wartime, its energy and sheer life force surprised even the mothers themselves. Advertisers bought ads. People read it from cover to cover (one devoted reader has admitted to hanging her issues on wire coat hangers in order to preserve them). It embraced and was embraced.

“When I looked at the first issue, Finding Our Voice,” says Sandi, “I realized that it was this fabulous harmony—many voices, each with its own note. Not attempting to sing the same tune. And what we got in the end was something much larger than the sum of its parts.”

It’s true. Barely a year old, Western North Carolina Woman is vibrant and growing. The technical skills have been honed and the distribution network expanded, thanks to the earnest volunteers who, for sheer love of the magazine, make certain that WNC Woman hits the stands. Advertisers are reporting a better than typical response rate, due no doubt to the publication’s commitment to supporting both personal and professional growth (and the readership’s commitment to supporting WNC Woman).

But, more importantly, the women of these mountains have been drawn together and they have opened their lives to each other. Readers become part of a community. This effort is a gift of the heart, a work of art created by two women (Julie on design, Sandi on checkbook, duets on editing and publishing) and a much larger group of writers, artists, photographers and readers.

The magazine is evolving as an organic process. “We don’t have a huge agenda in terms of what we’re going to allow as subject matter,” says Sandi. “From the start we have believed that the publication should reflect what WNC women are interested in talking about and learning about.”

The matrix from which new ideas emerge. With continued support from advertisers and the community, it should prove “ a beauteous flower”. Already the publication has expanded beyond print and web to include regular “Gather the Women” potlucks at AB Tech’s Enka campus. Readers are sending kudos and support from as far off as Australia.

And while it’s all about growth, it’s also a deconstruction of sorts. It’s a connection that doesn’t rely on DSL or dial-up networks, but on the universal language of the feminine spirit.

So stick that in your stiletto Ray-Bans, Hollywood. This story already has a happy ending.