Somewhere in life storytelling became very important to me. I can’t pinpoint it, but oral storytelling and stories though art hold a deep meaning to me. I love all the different ways of telling stories, of weaving them together, of sharing them.
During the three month road trip I took after college, I went to visit the mom of a friend I studied with in Cuba. Both women are delightful and help me remember the ways I want to look into the world. I was beginning to feel like I wasn’t doing anything for the world but using up gas by being on this long road trip. But the night at Ann’s house made me appreciate how honored I was to have stayed in so many people’s homes and had time to listen. I was able to hear people’s stories and ideas and focus on them in a way I hadn’t while being in school. So maybe I wasn’t contributing per se, but I was able to reflect on life with people and was open to hearing in a whole new way.
Then I started this journey with SHADE and on the first night heard our boss’s story. Mama Tembo has a very powerful story and I have deep respect for her and SHADE because the relationship starts with the story. But then she asked us our stories.
Now those of you that know me well, know I love to tell little stories about the day or what’s on my mind or what I remember. But my story? A story about what my life is all about in one sitting… That’s a lot harder to tell. Especially when people around me have such powerful and strong stories, how do I possibly compare? How do I show what’s important to me and why?
And I still need to practice telling my story. I am better at letting it out in pieces. I am obviously trying for something as I blog. But I think I have to stop valuing stories in different ways. I have learned from the women I work with how powerful it is to tell stories. In fact I am blogging about this as I am working on developing storytelling workshops that would be useful to our communities. As much as I love my other work, it is probably what I am most passionate about. For some people I work with after events in their lives they didn’t feel like they were worthy to be human and stopped telling who they were. Others have never had a chance to be heard or knew that their story mattered. Many have a new sense of life from the ability to start sharing.
And again these stories I find so incredibly beautiful and am so honored to be present for. And again I have difficulty seeing how to share my own. But to form a relationship I have to share too, for myself and others. And because our stories are all linked. This is especially real now as my friends are going through this hard time, yet I am so glad they felt comfortable enough to finally tell us more of their struggles.
So I encourage each of you to share your stories. We each have them. And while I may not think my story is as powerful as many I hear, they have told me mine is still worthy to be told.
All stories are worthy. I am thankful at SHADE we start with our stories. All of our stories.
02 June 2010
28 May 2010
In the face of a smiling child : love more
I walked up to my roommates talking to one of our friends who works as a caretaker of a property. The conversation was very serious as I walked up and I realized something was going on with him (not just a normal friendly hello).
He was talking about getting kicked out of his small home where he works. This was after asking for two months in salary he hasn’t been paid. He was disheartened and knew he was being lied to.
I don’t know how his employer could manage without him, truthfully. But we are friends with his wife as well and so this blow was a blow to all of us as well. And it’s not my battle to fight, but it is so hard to watch him and try to help him see his options. With no money and cold nights upon us where was he supposed to go.
And as we were talking about all this his two year old daughter was running and laughing between out legs. To be fair every time we see them we play with her, so she didn’t notice the serious tones in our voices. So she would grab our legs and just look up and laugh.
She has no idea what’s going on, in credit to her parents at some rate. Her mom works cleaning other people houses and that is how they are affording to eat right now. In truth we are friends with her parents because of this little two year old we met. And with almost tears in her father’s eyes, she is playing games around our legs and looking up and laughing.
Then we learned his wife is cleaning the house at the property they stay on for free to pay for their electricity and water, but they have never seen a bill so who knows if it is a fair trade. I hadn’t realized so much of their story before, but I did know the struggles they could face and as refugees with a roof over their heads they are strong people willing to work to keep the sense of security they may have. Even in small ways.
It takes a while to trust and hear peoples stories so this was the first time I had heard this much. And I was angry with our South African neighbors that could do this to a family. How could they be so unreasonable and accuse this man of some many things, while he works no where else and is loyal? And they know he has fewer options and are taking advantage of it.
I walked away from the conversation wanting to yell at everyone. Luckily our friend found more hope after talking it out with us and knowing someone listened. He actually told us he had more hope. We were just trying to give him any ideas we had so he knew is rights and how to record and get help for what was going on. And his daughter just keeps playing. And he walked away with his daughter going to see his life and to make a plan for their future.
And I know I cant be the one to go talk for him in business that doesn’t concern me. But I want to kick up a storm to whoever is doing this to their family. To my two year old friend. And maybe the best thing I can do is listen and talk while we pass each other by and throw the baby up in the air to make her squeal. Maybe I can help tell them their rights and offer to listen and have an open door to the family of my two year old friend, who only came to me because they we too desperate not to talk about it when they saw us. Maybe that hope and new ideas is as worth a big fight.
But thinking of that smile, I am also feeling sorry to whoever does this to others. And with so many arrangements similar to this where I live I have even more questions. But I think more and more about what it means to love my enemies in this anger. And I don’t think shouting will change this person. But how can I use love to make this change. How can I use who I am to make sure people are treated right? Not out of my anger but out of my love?
How do I love more?
He was talking about getting kicked out of his small home where he works. This was after asking for two months in salary he hasn’t been paid. He was disheartened and knew he was being lied to.
I don’t know how his employer could manage without him, truthfully. But we are friends with his wife as well and so this blow was a blow to all of us as well. And it’s not my battle to fight, but it is so hard to watch him and try to help him see his options. With no money and cold nights upon us where was he supposed to go.
And as we were talking about all this his two year old daughter was running and laughing between out legs. To be fair every time we see them we play with her, so she didn’t notice the serious tones in our voices. So she would grab our legs and just look up and laugh.
She has no idea what’s going on, in credit to her parents at some rate. Her mom works cleaning other people houses and that is how they are affording to eat right now. In truth we are friends with her parents because of this little two year old we met. And with almost tears in her father’s eyes, she is playing games around our legs and looking up and laughing.
Then we learned his wife is cleaning the house at the property they stay on for free to pay for their electricity and water, but they have never seen a bill so who knows if it is a fair trade. I hadn’t realized so much of their story before, but I did know the struggles they could face and as refugees with a roof over their heads they are strong people willing to work to keep the sense of security they may have. Even in small ways.
It takes a while to trust and hear peoples stories so this was the first time I had heard this much. And I was angry with our South African neighbors that could do this to a family. How could they be so unreasonable and accuse this man of some many things, while he works no where else and is loyal? And they know he has fewer options and are taking advantage of it.
I walked away from the conversation wanting to yell at everyone. Luckily our friend found more hope after talking it out with us and knowing someone listened. He actually told us he had more hope. We were just trying to give him any ideas we had so he knew is rights and how to record and get help for what was going on. And his daughter just keeps playing. And he walked away with his daughter going to see his life and to make a plan for their future.
And I know I cant be the one to go talk for him in business that doesn’t concern me. But I want to kick up a storm to whoever is doing this to their family. To my two year old friend. And maybe the best thing I can do is listen and talk while we pass each other by and throw the baby up in the air to make her squeal. Maybe I can help tell them their rights and offer to listen and have an open door to the family of my two year old friend, who only came to me because they we too desperate not to talk about it when they saw us. Maybe that hope and new ideas is as worth a big fight.
But thinking of that smile, I am also feeling sorry to whoever does this to others. And with so many arrangements similar to this where I live I have even more questions. But I think more and more about what it means to love my enemies in this anger. And I don’t think shouting will change this person. But how can I use love to make this change. How can I use who I am to make sure people are treated right? Not out of my anger but out of my love?
How do I love more?
In true blog fashion rantings and ramblings on life and injustice
Sojourner looked at as a Refugee
I have to be aware of my identity everyday. And I have to be aware of my privileged both from events in my life and from my perceived identity.
The rest of this blog could unfold in 50 different directions based on daily experiences. I think if we care about social justice we cannot ignore our identities and how we impact each other. I could speak of where I fight to not fall into the historical or social pain aspects of my perceived identity bring to others. For my own students at Espoir, white missionaries are a great symbol of pain. Being white in general links to colonial injustices that are still part of African identities. The pain and injustice is not why I am in my role. I try not to focus on proving this fact, but on caring out how I see walking with the people I am living with and serving each other for greater dignity and respect.
Now the previous paragraph is one of the directions I can take. However, let us go down a different path instead.
The S in SHADE stands for sojourners. And in a essence all of us working and training in Johannesburg have a common understanding of being away from home. We were in the fields and the students were talking about missing home. I was listening and caring on weeding, as the students started discussing me, and how much longer I was away from my family. Sometimes I think my age and distance helps all of us understand each other.
In another sense I take for granted all the little ways that are part of others daily lives. I have no fear of standing up and saying this is my right. But others who are trying to change their lives give up rights in return for trying to live in South Africa, for trying to work, for trying to eat people all over the world give up these rights.
I get to be a stranger in a strange land, but know with certainty that I will have food on my table and that if the police stop me I have a valid visa and passport. I also know if I have problems I can make my own noise and have people to call. Both of my bosses also know this, but they are still careful in little ways everyday. The ability for people to abuse rights or make things hard for others they see below themselves is all to present everywhere in the world. But how often do you and I think about it? How often is there a simple solution we can give someone about rights?
To have rights you have to know your rights. But to live everyday sometimes its easier to know the system and where you need to be careful. And its exhausting for me to watch everyone around me and the ways they have to be careful and what they have to put up with.
But my friends that are sojourners that I see everyday… They thank God. They Thanks God everyday.
I just wonder what the people that spread this fear in others, or feel entitled to overwork others at their mercy. This is where I am learning even more to love my neighbor and my enemy.
I appoligise for the ramblings I will try to tackle this topic a little more concisely soon. Thanks for reading. I am angry for the way people treat others, I am angry about entitlement, and I am blessed that my friends still thank God while I stay angry.
I have to be aware of my identity everyday. And I have to be aware of my privileged both from events in my life and from my perceived identity.
The rest of this blog could unfold in 50 different directions based on daily experiences. I think if we care about social justice we cannot ignore our identities and how we impact each other. I could speak of where I fight to not fall into the historical or social pain aspects of my perceived identity bring to others. For my own students at Espoir, white missionaries are a great symbol of pain. Being white in general links to colonial injustices that are still part of African identities. The pain and injustice is not why I am in my role. I try not to focus on proving this fact, but on caring out how I see walking with the people I am living with and serving each other for greater dignity and respect.
Now the previous paragraph is one of the directions I can take. However, let us go down a different path instead.
The S in SHADE stands for sojourners. And in a essence all of us working and training in Johannesburg have a common understanding of being away from home. We were in the fields and the students were talking about missing home. I was listening and caring on weeding, as the students started discussing me, and how much longer I was away from my family. Sometimes I think my age and distance helps all of us understand each other.
In another sense I take for granted all the little ways that are part of others daily lives. I have no fear of standing up and saying this is my right. But others who are trying to change their lives give up rights in return for trying to live in South Africa, for trying to work, for trying to eat people all over the world give up these rights.
I get to be a stranger in a strange land, but know with certainty that I will have food on my table and that if the police stop me I have a valid visa and passport. I also know if I have problems I can make my own noise and have people to call. Both of my bosses also know this, but they are still careful in little ways everyday. The ability for people to abuse rights or make things hard for others they see below themselves is all to present everywhere in the world. But how often do you and I think about it? How often is there a simple solution we can give someone about rights?
To have rights you have to know your rights. But to live everyday sometimes its easier to know the system and where you need to be careful. And its exhausting for me to watch everyone around me and the ways they have to be careful and what they have to put up with.
But my friends that are sojourners that I see everyday… They thank God. They Thanks God everyday.
I just wonder what the people that spread this fear in others, or feel entitled to overwork others at their mercy. This is where I am learning even more to love my neighbor and my enemy.
I appoligise for the ramblings I will try to tackle this topic a little more concisely soon. Thanks for reading. I am angry for the way people treat others, I am angry about entitlement, and I am blessed that my friends still thank God while I stay angry.
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