#28 Good News & Seeds of Hope
SEEDS OF HOPE
As the boys have grown I’ve spent more time in my little vegetable plot at
the local community garden. (It’s on the site of a warehouse that burned
down years ago—-I remember digging piles of brick and glass out of that
barren place, hauling in anything that could break down into soil.)
This year, letting a few of my non-hybrid vegetables go to seed, I watched,
fascinated to see what kale and leek and lettuce flowers look like and how
they provide for their future, as they have done for who knows how many
years. It was like learning some very old, deep magic. I gathered up seed
pods and flower heads, and in the dark of winter evenings, separated out the
seeds to save for spring.
Their bounty is incredible—-one plant alone produces hundreds of seeds, many
times more than I could possibly use. I am awash in abundance.
(I am noticing seeds everywhere—-just waiting for the right conditions to
take root and grow. My son brought home some dried chilis from the grocery
story that reminded him of those in Nicaragua. We crushed a few, picked out
dozens of tiny seeds, and now little chili pepper plants are growing on my
windowsill.)
Lettuce has already come up from seed that I harvested. I feel tuned in to
the cycle of life on this planet. Finding sturdy plants that will thrive
where we live, offer us food, and produce good seed for the next year—-and
the next generation-–is work of such basic worth and goodness that it takes
my breath away.
Magic, abundance overflowing, a living link with past and future
generations—-the harvest from my garden this year has been rich indeed.
Pamela Haines
12/04
HEALING AND REBUILDING OUR COMMUNITIES
(excerpted from a report on a community trauma healing workshop,
which has now been offered to more than 500 people in Rwanda, Burundi and
Uganda, by David Zarembka, of the African Great Lakes
Initiative, in Quaker Life, 10/04)
Hearing someone else’s story, you could realize that you are not
alone in the struggle. And when it came to telling others about your story,
it was like something heavy was pulled out from the heart.
In the Rwandan workshops, ten of the participants are Tutsi survivors of the
genocide and ten are Hutu from the families of the perpetrators or, in some
cases, “released prisoners” who confessed to participating in the genocide.
Although most of the people at a workshop are from the same community and
know each other, they have not communicated with each other for almost a
decade. When they gather the first day, each group sits apart, and does not
make eye contact with the others. The most important aspect of the first
day is to develop a secure environment where everyone feels free to talk and
respected by the others. This may be the first time since the genocide that
this has happened.
Before, I was thinking that only having lost family members is
traumatizing. But now I have seen that the wrongdoer can be traumatized by
the horrible things she/he did.
The second day beings with learning good listening skills, followed by
learning the stages of grief and loss and how to come out of the trauma.
Constructive and destructive ways of dealing with anger are presented in the
afternoon.
Myself, as well as my neighbors, have lost many relatives and the
situation we are in is unbearable. But I discovered that the main issue is
that we have been keeping all inside us. We did not want to tell God,
neither our friends about those feelings. Grief can destroy one’s life and
body. We now find new skills. God and friends can comfort me.
On the third day the participants list the roots and fruits of mistrust on a
drawing of a tree—-retaliation, revenge, capital punishment. They conclude
by cutting down that tree. Next they discuss the roots and fruits of trust,
eventually concluding that the bad roots need to be replaced with good root,
which then yield good fruits—-rehabilitation, resurrection.
Participants expressed how the mistrust tree is real in their
hearts, and what has been the consequence of such evil. They openly
manifested their willingness to uproot that mistrust tree because, they
said, it is the origin of all horrible times they passed through for
generations.
We have to plant the trust tree in our hearts so that every Rwandan
can eat its delicious fruits.
There is a trust walk during which each Hutu participant is blindfolded and
led around by a Tutsi participant. Then the roles are reversed.
Each time I tried to find something to hold on to, my friend told
me, ‘Don’t worry, I see for you’ and I believed.
It was very touching, inspiring, full of love to see how
ex-prisoners ‘Hutu accused of participating in the genocide’ and survivors
‘of the genocide’ were holding each other and carefully they walked
together.
By the end of these workshops people, who only three days before would have
stayed out in the downpours of Central Africa rather than seek shelter with
their opponents, who would have refused to ask for water if they were
thirsty because they were afraid they would be poisoned, leave talking and
laughing with each other, inviting each other over for dinner.
As the boys have grown I’ve spent more time in my little vegetable plot at
the local community garden. (It’s on the site of a warehouse that burned
down years ago—-I remember digging piles of brick and glass out of that
barren place, hauling in anything that could break down into soil.)
This year, letting a few of my non-hybrid vegetables go to seed, I watched,
fascinated to see what kale and leek and lettuce flowers look like and how
they provide for their future, as they have done for who knows how many
years. It was like learning some very old, deep magic. I gathered up seed
pods and flower heads, and in the dark of winter evenings, separated out the
seeds to save for spring.
Their bounty is incredible—-one plant alone produces hundreds of seeds, many
times more than I could possibly use. I am awash in abundance.
(I am noticing seeds everywhere—-just waiting for the right conditions to
take root and grow. My son brought home some dried chilis from the grocery
story that reminded him of those in Nicaragua. We crushed a few, picked out
dozens of tiny seeds, and now little chili pepper plants are growing on my
windowsill.)
Lettuce has already come up from seed that I harvested. I feel tuned in to
the cycle of life on this planet. Finding sturdy plants that will thrive
where we live, offer us food, and produce good seed for the next year—-and
the next generation-–is work of such basic worth and goodness that it takes
my breath away.
Magic, abundance overflowing, a living link with past and future
generations—-the harvest from my garden this year has been rich indeed.
Pamela Haines
12/04
HEALING AND REBUILDING OUR COMMUNITIES
(excerpted from a report on a community trauma healing workshop,
which has now been offered to more than 500 people in Rwanda, Burundi and
Uganda, by David Zarembka, of the African Great Lakes
Initiative, in Quaker Life, 10/04)
Hearing someone else’s story, you could realize that you are not
alone in the struggle. And when it came to telling others about your story,
it was like something heavy was pulled out from the heart.
In the Rwandan workshops, ten of the participants are Tutsi survivors of the
genocide and ten are Hutu from the families of the perpetrators or, in some
cases, “released prisoners” who confessed to participating in the genocide.
Although most of the people at a workshop are from the same community and
know each other, they have not communicated with each other for almost a
decade. When they gather the first day, each group sits apart, and does not
make eye contact with the others. The most important aspect of the first
day is to develop a secure environment where everyone feels free to talk and
respected by the others. This may be the first time since the genocide that
this has happened.
Before, I was thinking that only having lost family members is
traumatizing. But now I have seen that the wrongdoer can be traumatized by
the horrible things she/he did.
The second day beings with learning good listening skills, followed by
learning the stages of grief and loss and how to come out of the trauma.
Constructive and destructive ways of dealing with anger are presented in the
afternoon.
Myself, as well as my neighbors, have lost many relatives and the
situation we are in is unbearable. But I discovered that the main issue is
that we have been keeping all inside us. We did not want to tell God,
neither our friends about those feelings. Grief can destroy one’s life and
body. We now find new skills. God and friends can comfort me.
On the third day the participants list the roots and fruits of mistrust on a
drawing of a tree—-retaliation, revenge, capital punishment. They conclude
by cutting down that tree. Next they discuss the roots and fruits of trust,
eventually concluding that the bad roots need to be replaced with good root,
which then yield good fruits—-rehabilitation, resurrection.
Participants expressed how the mistrust tree is real in their
hearts, and what has been the consequence of such evil. They openly
manifested their willingness to uproot that mistrust tree because, they
said, it is the origin of all horrible times they passed through for
generations.
We have to plant the trust tree in our hearts so that every Rwandan
can eat its delicious fruits.
There is a trust walk during which each Hutu participant is blindfolded and
led around by a Tutsi participant. Then the roles are reversed.
Each time I tried to find something to hold on to, my friend told
me, ‘Don’t worry, I see for you’ and I believed.
It was very touching, inspiring, full of love to see how
ex-prisoners ‘Hutu accused of participating in the genocide’ and survivors
‘of the genocide’ were holding each other and carefully they walked
together.
By the end of these workshops people, who only three days before would have
stayed out in the downpours of Central Africa rather than seek shelter with
their opponents, who would have refused to ask for water if they were
thirsty because they were afraid they would be poisoned, leave talking and
laughing with each other, inviting each other over for dinner.
posted by Pamela Haines | 6:46 PM
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