“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” ~ Desmond Tutu.

My thoughts have been on my childhood a lot recently.  Ever since I was invited to be the guest speaker at my old primary (elementary in the US) school’s graduation, I have been reminiscing about those days over sixty years ago.  I suppose it is only appropriate for a child of that age, but most of my memories are of the time spent outside of the classroom!  Even though it was on the main road between May Pen and Chapelton (in Jamaica), it seemed set back in the bush, the road up to the school was paved and winding, and the short cut that we took was steep and rocky.  There were caves out back somewhere, filled with those scary ‘rat bats’ (bats) which swooped out when disturbed.

But it was where I learned crucial life lessons.  I may have wanted to see myself as no different from the other children (although I was white and they were predominantly off African descent with the usual mix of ‘other’), they certainly could see the difference.  I remember their shock the first time that I fell and scratched my knees (in those days I was rarely without one or other of my knees bearing scabs) and they saw that my blood was red.  Their reality was far harsher than mine.  After school as I traveled home by bus, I was likely to see them walking along the road carrying pans of water on their head, taken from the local tank and standpipe. They had no running water at their homes.  Mine was equipped with a hot water heater! On Fridays the school was half empty, many children made to stay home to help their parents get their foodstuffs ready for market. 

Those early lessons helped to make me more sensitive to the reality of others, and has helped me to have empathy with those whose stories I may not know.  When I moved to the US in 1978. I learned that the experience of those of African descent was quite different from those who grew up in Jamaica.  I learned about Reconstruction and Jim Crow and the horrors of living in the South.  I read more about the treatment of the First Nation people, and their continued struggles.  Whenever I could I looked for books about people whose background was different from my own.

Last week I went to a celebration of Juneteenth through song, dance, and short films.  The production highlighted the history of Southeast Florida, giving homage to the people who lived here first (even though the Miccosukee and Seminoles were relocated here from their own ancestral homes), as well as the role of those of African descent in the growth of the area.  It was a joyous exploration and self-described ‘celebration and resistance of erasure’ of history.  It seems more and more crucial that we seek out opportunities to share and spread information about the true history of this nation to counter the current policy of deleting and whitewashing anything unpleasant.  Did you know that in the National Parks they are being told they are not allowed to discuss anything that could make ‘people’ (for that read white people) feel uncomfortable.  So that in those places where the history is described factually, those people whose job it is to educate and inform us about the truth are in danger of losing their jobs if they are factual and honest.

These are troubling times.  I recently went to get a pedicure at my local salon.  I have been going there now for over six years and am very comfortable with the staff there.  To be honest I only learned the name of my favorite caregiver (what else can you call someone who pampers and lovingly massages your feet?) on my last visit.  When I got there a handwritten sign on the door said ‘Sorry we are closed closed.’  No further explanation.  But closed closed sounds serious!  Jamaicans have the habit (possibly a relic of one of the African languages) of doubling up words for emphasis.  Someone who has no sense is ‘fool-fool’ which may be shortened to ‘foo-fool’.  The sign seemed to be using the same technique.  Today when I went again, hopeful to find business as usual, the shop was cleared, the only sign in the window offered the space for lease.  Only one thought came to my mind – ‘ICE”.  Troubling times.  How much worse is it in Los Angeles, but Florida is not far behind.

And yet people persist and resist.  Last week in a chance encounter at a celebration of life for a young man, I met a couple (originally from Haiti) who have a mission in Port of Prince – a university, an orphanage and a school.  In Haiti? In Port of Prince?  Yes, they have been doing this for 19 years.  But isn’t it dangerous? Isn’t the place run by criminals? Yes, but if you don’t try then you are giving your homeland to the criminals.  But aren’t you putting your life on the line? Yes, somebody has to! I felt guilty, first for not being so brave in my own life, but also for not knowing more about an island in our back yard.  We have become lazy, taking our news in soundbites and generalities instead of asking questions, and learning more.

I was watching a show about Quantum Physics on PBS (can you believe that the administration is so threatened by PBS that they are trying to take away funding?) and trying to grasp the amazing complexities of our universe.  There is this entanglement theory that I don’t understand well enough to explain, not to mention the fact that the movement of particles can be changed just by our observation of them.  But there is this wonderful thought about possibilities, that we all affect each other, that our lives are all entangled on this planet, in this universe.  Even in our own small corner we can help to bring about change, we can spread hope, manifest joy, and in so doing who knows what change we may be creating!

Last week as I watched three agile and flexible dancers and listened to opera quality voices, I marveled at the ability of people to rise above the worst of circumstances.  The arts are a wonderful way to tell stories, to help us to develop empathy for others.  In a world where we are becoming dependent on shortcuts to get answers, using AI to generate letters or essays, may we never lose respect for the concept of human intelligence, human resilience, human creativity. 

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.