As I think back over the semester, I cannot help but feel
immense gratitude for Joan. I am grateful first for the strength and courage
she exemplified. She was unafraid to forge a new path for herself – and one no
less that her parents nor society were quite fond of. I am also thankful for
her steadfastness in both religion and moral conviction. She was indeed
unwilling to compromise what she wanted for her life, a lesson any
twenty-something can surely relate to. Lastly, I am thankful for Joan’s
sensitivity. She was brave and strong, but she also displayed gentleness and
kindness. I am thankful for her example, and revealing over five hundred years
prior that women can do and be both. After feeling oddly nostalgic for both
Joan and the experience of this class, I have taken the liberty of comprising
an open letter to Joan from those who desire to study her.
Dear Joan,
Your life and experiences rings out from the history books.
You are often discussed and debated, but scholars and students alike are seldom
able to definitively describe your existence. You defied numerous societal
norms and rules of your time, unwavering in your beliefs. You bested the
English in combat, although you lacked any knightly training or otherwise. You gained
male friendships, while remaining a virginal anomaly. You often outwitted the judges
at your trial, never forgetting to speak strongly. And lastly, you went to the
stake, dying for your cause.
Because of these reasons and so much more, we study you. The
historical records often provide answers, and yet we debate. Primary sources reveal
the extensive following you had, a following that has outlived even you. You
are questioned, revered, misunderstood, and cherished. Regardless of what
answers scholars will provide next, we thank you for your humble and yet astonishing
life. May we seek to better understand you.
Sincerely,
Those Who Simply Wish to Know You More
"Jeanne at the Coronation of Charles VII in the Cathedral of Reims" by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1854.