Jennifer Rycenga (PhD ’92) Talks Abolitionists, Holy Hill, and the Music of Interdisciplinary Thought
Jennifer Rycenga (PhD ’92), author of Schooling the Nation: The Success of the Canterbury Female Academy (University of Illinois Press, 2025), is Professor Emerita in the Humanities Department at San José State University. Her scholarly work has focused on the Abolitionist movement, exploring areas previously hidden or marginalized, such as Black women’s activities and voices, the anti-racist work of white Abolitionists, and networks of families and friends involved in the struggles against slavery and injustice. In addition to her work on the Canterbury school controversy, she has led two Digital Humanities projects on the Burleigh family of Plainfield, Connecticut - seven siblings who all supported Prudence Crandall and the Canterbury school, and philosophic analyses of the work of Black speaker Maria Stewart (1803-1879). Rycenga’s other work ranges widely across feminist musicology, global feminism, and lesbian philosophy. In a recent conversation, she spoke about interdisciplinary and ecumenical learning at the GTU; abolitionist history and feminist scholarship; and the intersection of nature, art, and spirituality. This article is based on that conversation.
Dr. Jennifer Rycenga’s voice exudes warmth as she recalls her time at the Graduate Theological Union. “I have such a happy sense of Holy Hill,” she says, evoking memories of Berkeley’s vibrant academic community. “If only I had a Holy Hill to climb these days . . .”
For Rycenga, Holy Hill wasn’t just a physical space—it was a refuge for the mind, a wellspring of intellectual and creative possibility. The GTU, she reflects, was “an exciting place. We were immersed in interdisciplinary work and living in an ecumenical wonderland, where we could hear each other and work together.”
She recalls her time here as one of dynamic exchange and inspiration. “I felt like I was with amazing minds that sparked a variety of directions, for both the faculty and students,” she says. “I really learned that good theology makes you think.” Among her most cherished mentors were figures like Doug Adams, Claire Fischer, Michael Morris, Judith Berling, Norm Mealy, and Jane Dillenberger—each of whom helped shape her intellectual and creative trajectory.
“Jane Dillenberger was magical,” Rycenga says, her admiration evident. “She taught me that every artwork you look at is religious [or spiritual].” Berling’s structural insights into interdisciplinary study, Adams’s broad philosophical lens, and Mealy’s reminder that the arts—whether visual or musical—are interconnected all left indelible marks on her work.
This intellectual generosity shaped her approach to scholarship, particularly in her focus on abolitionist history. Her recent book, Schooling the Nation: The Success of the Canterbury Female Academy for Black Women, highlights the remarkable story of Prudence Crandall, a white teacher whose academy educated several Black women during its brief existence. “As we move into this current climate, I hope the book can provide much-needed insight,” Rycenga says.
She delves into Crandall’s evolution with enthusiasm: “In addition to the confluence of events in women’s history, this is a story of women talking to other women. For example, Crandall was unknown in the Black community, and ultimately it was the not-so-subtle work of two Black women, Mariah Davis and Sarah Harris, that brought her into the movement. The creation of the school was a moment where white women and Black women are talking and hearing each other—a feminist moment par excellence.”
Crandall’s personal narrative, she notes, underscores themes of agency and religious transformation. “She moved through Quaker circles, the Baptist community, the Second Great Awakening, and eventually the Spiritualist movement.” When her Universalist cousins left pamphlets for her, Prudence’s husband didn’t approve but as she said, “I read them anyway.”
Rycenga’s intellectual curiosity, fostered at the GTU, also intersected with a growing connection to nature and its philosophical significance. “1984 was the year I started at the GTU, and it was the year I got into birdwatching, and I don’t think the simultaneity was accidental,” Rycenga recalls. “There is a deeper philosophical connection between nature, art, and justice—which is my next book.”
Her reflections on birdwatching are imbued with spiritual reverence: “When I was at the GTU, I was learning about imminence and understanding the sacred in our everyday encounters. Mary Daly talks about a life-changing experience she had when a clover blossom talked to her and said, ‘I am.’ There’s a deep respect of the line between us and the other, yet understanding that the other wants recognition. Everything around us is sacred, and yet everything extends beyond our knowing.”
Her appreciation of nature goes beyond birds. “I observe the lichens and their symbiotic relationship with their hosts. They can live long lives. They’re remarkably good to think with because they’re benign to everything to which they attach themselves. Watching them is even slower than birdwatching. While birding ranges outward, lichens are an inward journey. I enjoy helping other people see these things, like my teachers did for me at the GTU.”
Her memories of the GTU reflect not only the intellectual vitality of the institution but also its creative heart. “One of my favorite places at the GTU is the library,” Rycenga says with evident affection. “The building became a lifeline for me in many ways. It’s a very special place, and I’m glad I played a part in it.”
Her attachment to the library was so profound that it inspired her to compose a musical piece, Road to Reality, for when the library was first constructed. “It used a lot of brass and trumpets,” she laughs, “which is not what you think of when you think of a library.”
As a member of the Composer’s Cafeteria—a group of GTU and UC Berkeley students who were also musicians and composers—Rycenga found the perfect outlet for her creative energies. “I was glad the GTU was open enough to really enable that kind of environment,” she reflects.
For a scholar and musician whose life has been shaped by books, music, nature, and community, her parting words feel particularly apt: “I’ve always thought that if there is a heaven, it’s a library.”