Hope and Resistance

Today was a very good day. Some of my best days are days that I learn a lot, spend time with people I love and am inspired. All three of those things happened today! I'll tell you how...

Firstly, in my peace and reconstruction class we watched thing incredible documentary. It is about an incredible student movement in Serbia that ultimately brought down Slobodan Milosevic, the brutal dictator of Serbia. I should say that I was pretty ignorant about the conflict in the former Yugoslavia. I know that there were allegations of ethnic cleansing and NATO bombs, but I really didn't know much more than that.

This documentary is about an incredible group called Otpor! (which essentially means 'Resistance' in Serbian). This grassroots group was created and led by 18-20 year olds. The documentary that we watched in class highlights their to non-violent struggle to remove the ruling dictator (well, there was apparent "democracy" in Serbia, but it was well known that Milosevic brought votes and rigged elections). There were two things that were incredibly powerful about this documentary. First, this group was completely non-violent. They marched, mobilized, communicated, passed out flyers, protested, emailed, and organized. They were relentless in their quest for a free Serbia. They were committed- all in for their cause. While they accepted financial contributions, they refused to compromise their goals or their strategies. Secondly, this movement was almost entirely run by youth- young adults who demanded freedom and democracy. It was powerful watching the members of Otpor! talk about their love for their country and their desire for political freedom. Otpor! became such a big and powerful movement that they forced political change. Before the intense pressure from the group, the political opposition in Serbia was too fragmented to run and win against Milosevic. However, because of demands from groups like Otpor! the opposition parties overcame their personal quests for power and created a coalition determined to overthrow Milosevic and his cronies. Once the opposition was united, elections were called by Milosevic 10 months early, in hope that the opposition would be unprepared. The international community and groups like Otpor! monitored the election and counted votes from the provinces before the votes were sent to Belgrade- this was to ensure that Milosevic would not be able to claim that he'd won. Of course, the opposition won- but Milosevic refused to step down, saying that there was no decisive victory and that there would need to be a second round of elections. Thus began 10 days of protesting, led of course by Otpor! Each day the protests would get systematically larger. On the 10th day, hundreds of thousands of people from all over the country made their way into Belgrade to meet at the Parliament to protest. There is an incredible scene in the documentary where they filmed the highways on that day and every car is moving in the same direction. There were no cars leaving the city. I had goosebumps watching this. People, mobilized can be incredibly powerful.

I say all this about this documentary and this group today because I was inspired. Really inspired. Bombs and troops did not bring down the dictator- a group of students, who were willing to do anything but pick up weapons did. I am really interested in the non-violent movement and I found this story to be hopeful.

I had coffee with some friends of mine later and we were talking about all sorts of things. They just back from a trip to Ghana where they were helping run medical clinics, so it was really cool to hear the things that they had learned. I was telling them how in my last year of my undergrad, in my forth year international development, my classmates and myself were asked how we felt about the state of the world. When it was my turn to speak I think I said something along the lines of "I don't think the world is going to get any better." Basically, after four years of studying development, I thought the whole thing was hopeless. I have come to see now that I was very wrong.

I believe that God is making the whole world new. He's all about restoration and new life. All he asks of us is to be a part of that. We are to be made new and we are to be agents of new creation. And as I sat in my forth year class, defeated, I had forgotten this. Only in hindsight can I see how blind I was. While I am by no means an idealist, cynicism is for the lazy. When I choose to look at the world through a cynical lens, I choose to do nothing. Cynicism can only be talked about- it never accomplishes anything. Watching this documentary and talking with my friends today reminded me of these things. It reminded me that we hope for a reason. We hope so that we will act. And we act so that the world will change. I genuinely do believe that another world is possible. Hearing stories like that of the students of Otpor! remind me of this. I am also reminded that the greatest stories are about those where the characters are willing to risk everything in order to accomplish their goals. For the Serbian students, they were willing to give their lives for their country to be free. Yet, they refused to use weapons. In these times it often seems like weapons are our main tools for change. Think of Iraq or Afghanistan...sometimes weapons don't seem to be very effective. And if they are "effective" the human cost is often staggering.

Resistance movements like the one in Serbia give me so much hope that our generation has not lost our capacity for creativity and imagination. It reminds me that there is a lot to be hopeful about...and that the choices we make and the things we believe in DO matter.

Great friends, hope and inspiration. What a day.

Avoiding Hibernation

I am a girl made for the summer. I love it. I love long days of sunshine and when it doesn't get dark out until 10 pm. I love swimming in lakes and wearing shorts and playing outside. I love the crazy thunderstorms and the beach. I love eating ice cream as much as I can and wearing flip flops everyday. I love, love, love summer.

So, as winter makes her intense appearance, I can't help but wonder how to avoid hibernation. I am not a huge fan of the winter, the cold or the snow, for that matter. I like to ski, but do it so rarely that I don't think it counts. I don't mind throwing some snowballs now and again, but that gets pretty old fast. I don't enjoy scraping my car or blizzards or black ice. I don't like how I become such a homebody. This winter, I am wondering how to avoid the incredibly strong desire to stay in bed all day and drink tea in my pajamas?! I hate the colour of my pasty skin and how my nose runs when I come in from being outside. I can't STAND how the bottom of my pants get wet and I look like an idiot walking around campus with my jeans tucked in wool socks (you should know looking dumb is FAR better than wet pant legs all day). I fear that things are going to get even worse once the brown slush of March comes and makes everything look disgusting.

Maybe it's ok to want to snuggle up on the couch with a blanket this season. I do want to make sure that I still get lots of exercise and sunshine this winter- so I have enough energy to watch a lot of movies and to make tea like it's my job.

For now, I'll dream of warmer days, beautiful Outer Banks sunsets and remember that spring will come...eventually.

Forgiveness, finally.

In my peace and reconstruction class we've looked at some traditional means of restorative justice- about how people can be restored to their communities after committing horrendous crimes, often against people in their own village. In parts of Africa, tribes perform rituals to accept the offenders back into their village after a civil war. I know one example where the combatants enter into the village and drink a bitter tea, representing the bitterness and pain of the conflict- and to remind themselves that they never want to drink from that cup again. We watched this clip from a documentary showing this ritual. I felt pretty inspired- It looked so healthy...it looked so hopeful. Boys who had killed people from their own village, were welcomed back. There was restoration and forgiveness. It was a really beautiful way to understand justice.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately, because when I put myself in the shoes of a villager whose husband or child was killed, I wonder how easy it really would be to open my arms to killers. Forgiving is a lot easier to talk about than to actually do. I am a pretty average person, and nothing atrocious has ever happened to me. Yet, there are people and events in the past that have hurt me in ways that unfortunately are still very real. As humans we have a great capacity to inflict pain on others. I have also been the one to hurt others at times. It's horrible- and it's unchangeable. The past is permanent and all we get is a choice to decide how to act and think in the future. I think often we need to circumvent our feelings to move on. Because sometimes how we feel doesn't get us anywhere. I might feel as though I am too hurt to forgive someone, or I might feel that it is impossible to move beyond a certain situation. I guess that's why we need to train ourselves. I think sometimes our feelings keep us chained.

So, going back to my example of the village- in some indescribable way, until a victim is able to forgive- they are never going to be free. So, two lives have been claimed. I say this realizing that I have never lost someone that I love to violence- and it is my hope that I never will- so, I have no idea at how hard it would be. Maybe it's even unfair to use this as an example...

I think that is why I was so struck by this documentary of the combatants re-entering their villages. I don't have words to describe how hard that would be to forgive someone who took the life of someone in your family. But people have forgiven. I am sure we have all heard or seen a story of incredible and breath taking forgiveness. And I bet if you have ever heard a story like that, you have passed it on. Because stories like that are holy.

So, conflict and pain are inevitable. Even the little things, or the really old things- it can be very painful. And I think we often in some unexplainable way don't want to forgive- and we don't want to forget. Because in some cases, the way people have hurt us have become part of our identities, have set us apart, have told us what we deserve- and I think even though it hurts, sometimes that hurt feels safer than forgiveness- safer than losing that event or person or moment in time that we use to define us. I think of it as a prisoner that has the key to the chains that restrain them, but choose to never open the lock. We live in a world that I think so easily blinds us to the truth- it's so easy to never know that we are in fact a key player in determining our own freedom. In choosing to forgive someone, in choosing to see someone's humanity, to give dignity to those who do not deserve it, to choose hope and new life rather than death and pain- we can be free.

I am not sure how we come to that place where it is clear that the path of forgiveness, though unbelievably painful, ultimately grants freedom. I have yet to figure that out in my own life. In many ways I still hold on to petty grievances. But I do not want to be defined by those things- even though my feelings tell me that there is still a wound and even though I don't want to forgive. I am not sure how we move beyond the place where we tell ourselves "that person does not DESERVE my forgiveness." But thing is, is that we too have been forgiven- undeservedly. And the beautiful thing, is that God is all about symbiotic relationships. When we forgive, we are free from our bitterness and our resentments and the perpetrator is free from condemnation. There are mutual gains by both parties. Like I said before, this is so easy to say, and so hard to do- I guess like all of the beautiful and worthwhile things in life. Easy is boring.

A friend of mine was describing another couple that are our friends. She was saying that their marriage works and is so inspiring because it is build on solid and constant communication and they both hold each other in the highest regard- and they submit, submit, submit to each other. I think we can all learn from this. We need to hold each other, and all people really- in the highest of regards. It makes life in general and especially cases where we feel we have been wronged to think of the humanity of the other party. To remember that those who hurt us have hopes, and feel pain, and brush their teeth before bed, and go to work, and love, and laugh, and bleed, and read the newspaper. We need to see our similarities and not our differences. I'm not sure how to make the jump from simply knowing this and changing our actions to reflect that we know this. It is very difficult because in the end, it comes down to grace.

Generally when I think about things like this, I always want to know how to accomplish this, what practical steps to take to move forward...but I don't have anything like that to even offer. I'm not sure how we become more forgiving and gracious- even though I know it is a beautiful and right. I want to hold people in high regard, despite the past and whatever the future may hold.

Free?

I feel really blessed to be protected the Canadian Charter of Rights. I recognize and understand that the majority of the world is not protected by such a charter and that by default, the fact that I was born on Canadian soil, I am entitled to rights.

The concept of free speech has been on my mind lately. I know a girl who dropped a course because of bigotry and prejudice that was occurring in the classroom, as students talked about minorities, hateful incitement and freedom of speech. I felt sad that in an academic environment, someone would feel like they could no longer stay in a class because they were being openly discriminated against. After my friend finished telling the story about her class, I felt pretty convinced that there should be limits on what people say. The class was discussing the idea of racist and hateful radio shows hosted by white supremacists.

The the other day I heard a song on the radio by Pink, of all people. The song is called "Dear Mr. President." Here are some of the lyrics...

Dear Mr. President
Were you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
How can you say
No child is left behind
We're not dumb and we're not blind
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine

As I listened to the song, I was struck by the freedom that we have- and that Americans have. I guess it is important to remember that this is a political freedom- remember the fiasco when the Dixie Chicks said that they were ashamed that the President was from their home state. The Dixie Chicks' record sales plummeted and they received death threats. I imagine that Pink did not suffer the same ostricization as she probably doesn't have too many fans in the good ole bible belt. The fact that a song like this can be played on the radio demonstrates our political freedom. I was reminded of the many, many people that disappeared in Latin America for opposing the government. Public political opposition is a freedom that a small minority people are 'entitled' too. Let us not forget the images of monks, non-violently protesting, getting beaten with clubs by the junta in Burma. So, in this case, freedom of speech and opinion is good and beneficial.

However, I few weeks ago, I heard about a story that actually made me want to throw up. A church in Kansas, Westboro Baptist Church, has been protesting at the funerals of dead soldiers. The hold signs that say "Thank God for Dead Soldiers" and "God hates America." People like this make me sick and make me want to not call myself a Christian. The people of this church in Kansas have recently been protesting at the funerals of dead soldiers because they are opposed to soldiers fighting for a nation that supports gay people. Everything about this story makes me feel sick. A father of a dead soldier recently won a 11 million dollar lawsuit after the church members protested at his son's funeral. The pastor of this church is convinced that they will win the appeal because "the reality is that the First Amendment has survived 200 years without anyone protesting funerals, and I think it's safe to say that if this group is shut down and cannot protest funerals, the First Amendment will survive another 200 years." You can read the whole story here: http://rawstory.com/news/afp/US_anti_gay_church_to_resume_protes_11022007.html

The point is, the freedom of speech conundrum reappeared. Stories like this beg the question, should their be limits placed on what people can say? Especially when people are promoting hate, racism, and prejudice. Perhaps the difference between the church protesters and the Pink song (besides the obvious) is that Pink criticizes the President's policies. It's personal- she isn't promoting hate for all white men, or all rich men, or for all of the bureaucrats in Washington. But I am thinking, when someone starts promoting and publicizing hateful incitement against groups of people in a systematic fashion, that is when there is a problem. In Rwanda, hate radio encouraged people to kill their neighbors based on their ethnicity.

The law is a tricky thing because perhaps there is a the risk of a slippery slope- are there definable criteria whereby a person or groups can be silenced? There is something incredibly inhumane about hateful protesting at a funeral of a young man, who died serving his country. I don't necessarily agree with war, but I do have the utmost respect for those who selflessly serve their country. That is besides the point though. The point is, the death of a son, a brother, a husband - is probably one of the most private, horrible, painful experiences. These families deserve respect. I don't care about the freedom of speech in this case- it's wrong. And hateful. And Incredibly sad.

I'm thankful that I live in a country where I am free to oppose the government, that I am free to practice a religion- or not. But I do not think it's right to publicly broadcast hate, racism, misogyny- despite freedom of speech.

Why oranges are better than apples

Oranges are better than apples because you can eat them in slices and and put them in your mouth so it looks like you have orange teeth.
They are better because they can be shared between friends.
They don't turn brown when they are peeled.
Orange juice is the BEST juice-especially for breakfast.
Oranges grow in the land of sunshine.
The vitamin C keeps you from getting sick.
Oranges are better than apples.


On a completely different tangent. I am LOVING this song lately (see the words below). I feel like the words speak right to my soul. I love the imagery- I love the idea of a tree with hearts for leaves. I love how this song seems to capture the beauty of something as intangible as love- and I love the idea of "finding this feeling." It seems so contrasted by the ideas of jobs and money- I feel like I am pretty wooed by the idea of building a sandcastle to sleep in and the idea of life being 'painted golden'. Anyone who has experienced the beauty of love, friendship, family, friends, God, life, goodness, joy, peace- I feel like they would really "get" this song..."where love is still alive " and where all troubles are gone and you are free to walk under open skies, build sandcastles , swim in a waterfall, climb a tree. It is my hope that you have felt this way before. That you have felt like life was painted golden just for you.


Paint it Golden

Run away from money
Quit your job and climb a tree
One with hearts instead of leaves
Build a sandcastle big enough for us to sleep
Paint it golden with the sunrise

Chorus:
Cause we are
Like a wingless bird
Crashing down
To the helpless earth
And if somethin's gonna break it
See it all around you
Feel it in your body
You'll be hiding in the shadows
Where love is still alive
'Til all of it is burning

Through a field we're walkin
Empty as the open sky
We escape from all the troubles
Found a waterfall and
Took a dive to cool our skin
Finally we found this feelin'

Run away from money
Quit your job and climb a tree
One with hearts instead of leaves

the root of it...

There are lots of different ways that people make decisions. There are those that carefully think and over think their every action. There are those who know exactly what they want, those who can't decide, those who flip-flip and those who always tote a hardline. Sometimes we get to be the decision makers and other times we are disproportionately affected by the decisions made by those around us. Regardless, it's often hard to know if you're making a good choice. Did you go to the right school, join the right church, take the right job? Sometimes it feels as though I've made all of these seemingly insignificant choices and somehow ended up on this path- not necessarily the one that I set out on.

I watched a PBS documentary on Rwanda in a class at school recently. It's a long video, so we've watched it over a few classes. Without going into too much detail, I can assure you that the genocide that occurred there in 1994 was some of the worst atrociries that humanity has ever seen. This documentary shows people hacking other people to death with machetes. It shows Kofi Anan and Madeline Albright expaining how they really didn't know that 800,000 people had be systemically wiped out. It interviews a 12 year old girl who was the lone survivor of a masacure of hundreds of people in a church and stayed there, amongst the dead, for more than 40 days. The conflict in Rwanda was hell coming to earth.

Yet somehow, there were small bits of beauty in this documentary. It spoke of the ONE (literally, one) white, American who stayed in Kigali during the genocie...a Christian aid worker. He sent his family back to the U.S., but stayed himself because he believed it was the right thing to do. The documentary honoured a Senegalese UN soldier who singlehandedly, and secretly rescued hundreds of people. And then there was Romeo Delaire who stayed in Rwanda, even when his own organization betrayed him and the people of Rwanda. He stayed and faced the possibility that he might lose his life for something he believed in.

The heroes of the Rwandan genocide are good for my soul. As awful as it was to watch footage of bloated bodies float down rivers- there was still light in the darkness. There were people who were brave, couragous, selfless- there were heroes.

This takes me back to when I was talking about decisions. I've had an incredibly fortunate life thus far. I am lucky enough to be receiving high levels of education. I have it really good. But the thing is, I really want to do good things with my life- perhaps not to the extent of those I just spoke of, but I want to make a difference in the world...to be a part of new life, of good news, to restore humanity- I want in on that. And sometimes I wonder how or if any of that will happen. I wonder what next year will look life, or the next 10 years for that matter. I am wondering if how somehow being where I am now affects where I can go later.

But I'm learning that no matter what decisions we have made, or where we are now, how we got here , how long we've been here- none of this really matters. What matters is that God is the God of possibility, of new life, of unexpected goodness.

I have no idea what is coming my way next month- not to mention next year, or in five years. But I take comfort in the fact that I can never 'decide' myself into a situation where I'm too far gone to be used...and I can never get myself into a place where I am un-usable by God. As humans, I think that we think we have some sort of incredible predictive capacity for how something will turn out, or that we can somehow assume that we know what is coming next. I'm learning to be prepared for surprises- to know that doors will open that I have never even thought of- that things I thought I'd always do may never come to fruition. Regardless of how plans change or life surprises me, I take comfort in the fact that God is good, and knowing and that really, in the end- things work out.

Really, the root of what I am talking about is trust. Trust in the idea that I am not necessarily the maker of my own destiny. Trust that there is hope. Trust that it's ok to not always know what is next or even what is right. Trust that there really isn't a threshold by which we've "screwed up too much."

I'm not saying that we should think lightly about the choices that come our way. Nor am I saying that everything always works out perfectly, or even great for that matter. We should use each moment and each choice to practice being others-focused, to love and to do good- but we can also rest in the fact that we've never gone to far down one path to change directions.