Circa 1997, a story came out in the newspapers in Ocean City, New Jersey, announcing the arrival of a guy that was walking through town in the middle of a pilgrimage. The papers quoted him claiming to be on a Jesus-Journey of sorts, trekking barefoot up the coast with no places to stay and no money, relying only on the mercy of people that offered him free food and shelter. As a young and idealist teenage SuperChristian, I was immediately starstruck. I excitedly drove up and down Stagecoach Road in Marmora, looking for Jesus Man, with a sandwich and an apple. When I finally tracked dude down and offered him my picnic in exchange for conversation, he rejected the food because he'd been followed around by people like me all day and was stuffed. I don't remember what we talked about, so I'm guessing his personal theology wasn't that earth-shaking. But I do remember seeing him on the local news, too, and him reporting that he had stayed in different homes offered to him by community members when he came through.
Mike McIntyre's book The Kindness of Strangers: Penniless Across America explores a similar theme, with a Trusting Young Journalist exploring the country, banking on only the goodness of everyday folks to meet his needs. I read the book in my early twenties, and finished the read feeling inspired and superior and sure that yes, if a random Jesus Man or Trusting Young Journalist came through my town, I was just the kind of Kind Stranger to offer them a homemade sandwich. And an apple.
So, fast-forwarding to today and looking at this from the eyes of a thirty-something that shook Christianity (but kept a tender appreciation for the Jesus figure), it becomes apparent that, duh, um, these guys had no trouble getting help not because they were faithful and believed in people (both lovely things), but foremost because they weren't actually homeless. Because actual homeless people sometimes are dirty or mentally ill or hurt people, and most people, including me, don't invite others into their homes or hand-make sandwiches for people that are potentially dangerous or scary. And so most of the time, even by the very best of us, the people that really actually need or desire help are ignored in favor of those people or things that can make us feel good at little or no risk to ourselves.
How, as practitioners, to bridge this gap? To start, I think its important to be very honest with ourselves about the populations with whom we choose to work. It is essential, to be a good practitioner (and really just to be a good person) to stretch beyond our limits and invite in populations that are entirely "other" in order to learn and grow.
At the same time, its important to acknowledge our areas of weakness and limitation, and address these areas directly, rather than avoid them out of embarrassment or fear of appearing incapable (my very greatest fear). If we grew up privileged, we need to look at that. If we grew up in an area with very little diversity or are from a higher socioeconomic status, that's very relevant to the work we might do with with people that experienced the opposite of those things.
In doing the work on ourselves, and in taking a frank look at our limitations, fears, prejudices, etc, we can show a little respect to the people with whom we will work - the real deal people, not the Jesus Man or Trusting Young Journalist models. It is my utmost belief that this is owed and essential, at the Very Least, to those people, and to ourselves.
No comments:
Post a Comment