by Jessica Carreras
She almost died of malaria. She posed as a nude model for an art class. She makes a mean plate of tapas. And yes, she has reenacted the infamous "pottery" scene from "Ghost."
Michigan's LGBT community knows her for her big, heartwarming smile, her insightful speeches on gay rights and her presence at basically every major LGBT event in the area from Motor City Pride to Creating Change to around town in Ann Arbor. But now, Triangle Foundation's Interim Executive Director Kate Runyon is leaving – and she wants to spill her guts on her artwork, her world travels and why you should come to dinner at her house.
Runyon has lived in Ann Arbor for the past five years and Michigan for even longer. She worked in the faith community for the Canterbury House ministry at the University of Michigan and Oasis Ministry, the LGBT program of the Michigan Diocese of the Episcopal Church. Her most recent years, however, have been with Triangle, where she has led the organization as its executive director since Jeff Montgomery's departure in 2007. Right now, however, she's moving in to a funky old house in Fells Point, Md. where she will take over as the executive director of Equality Maryland.
But for Runyon, a childhood native of Milford, Mich., the move is really no sweat.
She's lived all over the place – Germany, Washington, D.C., Portland and Ohio – plus traveled to Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, Sweden and many other places.
While her background is in Michigan, her heart is everywhere. "My roots are in this area and I love this bio-region and I love the great lakes and it's just such a beautiful area," she gushes. "But my heart is really much more global and I've been able to feel at home in so many different places around the world that I really feel like a natural global citizen."
That next place will be Maryland, in a town she says is a great transition from her beloved Ann Arbor. "It's funky, it's crunchy, it's edgy, it's right next to the harbor," she describes of her new locale. "I think it'll be a really neat match."
Runyon also served a stint as a Peace Corps volunteer in West Africa, where she brought home not only a dog that she named Dowda, but also a near-deadly case of cerebral malaria that landed her in a hospital in Senegal where the only two things on television were a live feed of Muslims during Ramadan and one movie: "Outbreak."
But although she almost died from the experience, Runyon says it made her stronger – not afraid. "I have a lot of tenacity in life and the ability to make it through some really complicated situations that other people would tend to fold in," she explains. "I've been able to…go through some really complicated situations in life with a lot of nimbleness and honor and without having my entire core shaken."
It was that same strength that took her through her transition of jobs – and love interests.
Eight years into a relationship, Runyon began to look for jobs this summer outside of the state of Michigan. Her partner, however, was not as keen on relocating. So as she prepared for the possibility of leaving her job and her home state, Runyon also dealt with the end of a long-term relationship.
Both losses, however, ended up being gains for Runyon who, in addition to her new job, has a new love in Lansing Episcopalian minister Monique Ellison.
"It's pretty exciting. I wasn't expecting all of it," she says of the simultaneous acquisitions. "This past summer, it was a little bit bittersweet because when I had just started job surfing, my partner of eight years started getting kind of cold feet about moving. So that was really stressful. I started thinking 'oh, geez, am I gonna have to work at a local supermarket or what am I going to do next?'"
Instead of backing down, they went their separate ways – and Runyon is excited about her new beginning and her new relationship. So excited, in fact, that when Ellison recently videotaped Runyon "throwing" on her pottery wheel, the instructional video led to an off-scene, hands-on lesson in pottery ala Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore in the ghostly 1990s romance flick. "Right after she (Ellison) took this video," Runyon explains with a laugh, "she couldn't wait any longer and came over behind me and I led her hands through the entire process of throwing."
New opportunities and new romance, however, doesn't mean that she won't miss Michigan. More than just the landscape and familiarity, she says she'll miss the company the most – including her next door neighbors, who she's shared a duplex with for years. "Over the years, I've just been the closest, tightest friends with our neighbors, and we've shared meals together a couple times a week and just had amazing relationship connections," she explains. "So a lot of it has to do not only with the physical walls of the building but my sadness about leaving the community connections here."
The physical space isn't bad either, decorated with both Runyon's artwork and collections from her travels abroad. Her artwork adorns many of the walls, shelves and tabletops; brightly-colored ceramic creations – some from her undergraduate studies in fine art at Wittenberg University in Ohio, and others directly from the studio above her soon-to-be-ex garage.
"I appreciate functionality of art because I like to have it woven into my life," she explains. "I do a lot of things that are connected with making meal times intimate and extra scrumptious and extra beautiful. Not just plates and dishes, but really creative ways of designing a table or a party space. I really like people to feel hosted and nurtured when they're in my home, my space and so I like to do that through my art as well."
As such, dinner at Kate Runyon's house is more like an experience than just a meal.
Traveling to her Ann Arbor home, a guest would be greeted by her neighbors, several visiting friends, Dowda the dog and Runyon's two "extremely friendly" cats.
A visitor could see her garden, her artwork hanging on the walls and her eclectic old furniture, painted in bright, cheery colors.
For dinner? "The table would be an amazing spread of a lot of dishes that are from different parts of the world and are tasty and spicy and cool and warm and interesting and colorful," Runyon says with her infectious laugh. "I love tapas – Spanish tapas. I love doing really great finger foods and having people select what they like rather than deciding what everybody's going to eat for the evening."
World fusion music would filter through the house and conversation would dabble in Runyon's favorite taboo subjects: Sex, religion and politics.
Whatever the case, a conversation with Runyon is likely to result in an immediate rapport. Even on her Facebook page, Kate's "name analyzer" describes her as kind, approachable, tough and enlightened – all traits, she says, that fit her well.
But she forgot humble, giving and selfless. Through all her travels, her life-threatening and life-changing experiences, Runyon has decided one thing: "I want to make more money in life so that I can get money to the places that I know are really doing results-oriented work…to help level things and provide more opportunities and to also care for our fellow humans in a broader way," she says. "There's so much inequality in the world, it's just earth shaking and sickening."
And if there's one thing Kate Runyon wants everyone to know, pottery and world travels and tapas aside, it's that she's not leaving the LGBT movement any time soon. "I would have been really selling myself short to leave the movement because there's so much more work we have to do right now," she stresses. "I almost feel for me right now, that there isn't a choice."
