The Table We Inherited

Everyone has a story. We should all be so lucky to tell our own.

My Dunfey story is not the story of the hotels. It isn’t about being the most charismatic person in the room, and it certainly isn’t about being the funniest. My story is about being a steady observer, someone who has watched generations gather around tables to talk about things that matter.

Fifty-two years ago, New England Circle, now Global Citizens Circle (GCC), was founded around a simple but radical idea: that bringing people together across differences could change the course of history.

I grew up on the edges of those tables. I never worked at the store on Broadway in Lowell, MA or “#7,” the restaurant at Hampton Beach. But at times, it feels like I’ve been hanging out at the end of the counter for 75 years, looking up from the Editorial page of the Boston Globe, with a cup of coffee and a donut, to say good morning to my cousins.

GCC hosted its first Circle in 1974 at the Parker House in Boston, after more than a decade of civic unrest in the United States. In the ensuing decades, GCC convened conversations on Northern Ireland’s Troubles, apartheid in South Africa, nuclear proliferation, homelessness, AIDS, immigration, and women’s rights. Presidents and activists may have attended, but the power was never in proximity to fame. It was in proximity to one another.

While I likely absorbed some of the content and spirit of social justice, I also quietly observed the invisible architecture beneath those conversations.

For every public gathering, there was a person who extended the initial invitation — who opened homes, made introductions, nurtured relationships long before anyone stepped up to a podium. For every hour spent on diplomacy, there were many more spent laying the relational groundwork beneath it. The Circle did not stand on charisma alone. It stood on genuine care.

Last year, I bought a used, round wooden table for our kitchen sunroom. We could have bought something new, but I wasn’t sure we really needed another table. My husband and I grew up in homes where things were repaired, not replaced, and money was spent carefully. We borrowed a friend’s truck and hauled it home ourselves.

That table has held homework, card games, family dinners, birthday cakes, some arguments, and many cups of coffee.

It has also wobbled from the start. It’s not structurally unstable. But if you lean on it, you feel it shift. Actually, it spins.

My husband and I manage complexity for a living. But we don't know how to fix our wobbling table.

Some people can assess the wobble and trace it back to the loose joint. It’s not that we couldn’t learn. It’s just not in our skill set.

Fortunately, we know that the table is structurally sound. Solid. Worth keeping.

Global Citizens Circle feels a bit like that at times.

It was built with intention. It has held extraordinary conversations for over fifty years. And it has always required tending.

In the preface to her memoir, "Counter Culture," my great-aunt Eleanor wrote about the responsibility of telling our family’s story. The calling to steward something meaningful is a blessing.

And it can also be a burden. To inherit something is to decide whether to keep tending it.

In 1999, when accepting the Solas (Light) Award from the Irish International Immigration Center, Eleanor reflected on the immigrant generations who came before us:

“There’s a vast world outside your own door --

so be sure when you set your table — there’s always room for one more.” 

During COVID, I became captivated by genealogy. Historical records require skepticism and belief in equal measure. Family stories matter, but so do census records, immigration documents, and newspaper clippings. You learn to look closely. To question and to discern.

Discernment runs quietly through my family history, alongside songbooks, shared tears and laughter.

The work of extending a personal invitation, welcoming others, and creating a sense of belonging was never ornamental. It was structural. In many ways, it was survival. It's how families, communities, organizations, and even democracy endure.

At the end of "Counter Culture," Eleanor writes that the world has changed so much in the hundred years since her parents, my great-grandparents (Kate and Roy), had their first child. “What has not changed, though, and what our parents knew instinctively, is that people will always need to belong – to be invited, welcomed, included, respected. Around tables of inclusive, diverse conversations locally and globally, we continue to honor their lived lessons.”

And so here we are, 50 years later, asking: Who will help set the table?

Maura Dunfey Hwang, D.O., is a child and adolescent psychiatrist in the Philadelphia area and Clinical Assistant Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Pennsylvania. She serves in leadership roles with the Regional Council of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry of Eastern Pennsylvania & Southern New Jersey and the Delaware County Medical Society. Her work bridges children's mental health, education, public health, and advocacy, with a focus on systems, belonging, and community. She has served as a Global Advisor to Global Citizens Circle since 2025.

Please note: We invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle.

Fifty-two years ago, New England Circle, now Global Citizens Circle (GCC), was founded around a simple but radical idea: that bringing people together across differences could change the course of history."  - Maura Dunfey Hwang