"A good society cannot be built on miracles" -Jonathan Kozol

I recently read Jonathan Kozol's book Amazing Grace. Kozol writes about the people, specifically children, that he meets in the Bronx in the 1990's. He recounts difficult stories of the pervasive, racist policies that keep families and individuals in the Bronx in a perpetual cycle of poverty and violence. Unfortunately these children's stories could belong to children in many places throughout the world. There are striking similarities between the children of the Bronx and the children I met in the West Bank.

Throughout the time that I lived in Israel/Palestine and since I have returned to the US, I have had misgivings about how to write about the more difficult aspects of life. It is, of course, easy to write the funny stories, the endearing stories and the adventure stories, but it is harder to know how to write about tragedies and injustices. It is tempting to put on a positive spin or to talk about how strong the people are. Indeed, since returning to the USA I have often found myself talking about how difficult life is in Palestine and then feeling the need to talk about how resilient the Palestinian people are. It bothers me. Of course, the people are resilient, but it seems to me that they should not have to be.

Kozol writes eloquently about this dilemma, "[Stories of resilience] have a reassuring quality that is not present in most stories that one hears about the lives of children in the South Bronx. Some preachers speak of situation of this kind as 'little miracles,'... The trouble with miracles, however, is that they don't happen for most children; and a good society cannot be built on miracles or on the likelihood that they will keep occurring. There is also a degree of danger that, in emphasizing these unusual relationships and holding up for praise the very special children who can take advantage of them, without making clear how rare these situations are, we may seem to be condemning those who don't have opportunities like these or, if they do, cannot respond to them" (160). Stories of resilience are important because of the hope they contain, but they are exceptional and thereby simply not the case for the majority of people. I would hate for the children not perceived as "resilient" to be blamed for it.

In writing my blog, I want to keep optimistic and tell stories of resilience, but I also fear that in always putting on a positive spin or showing the strength of the people, I allow my readers to get complacent. Indeed, I worry about letting myself get complacent. Suffering in the world can, and should, make us uncomfortable. Like Kozol, I worry that emphasizing stories of resilience allows us to ignore the ways in which our comfortable lifestyles in the US contribute to and even cause the suffering of others throughout the world.

On the other hand, I know that without a glimmer of hope, it is far too easy to drown in despair. One need only talk with someone suffering "burnout" in the social justice sector to know that you cannot dwell completely on suffering without some hope. In choosing the title of my blog, you may remember that I wanted to focus on hoping "for a great sea-change" and believing that "a further shore is reachable from here" in the midst of the pain and darkness in our world.

Perhaps the best thing we can do is to work hard to make something better. To align our gifts with the world's need. My YAGM family often quotes Frederick Buechner in his book Wishful Thinking, "The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." Do something you are passionate about in a way that meets some of the world's need. I think that might be about the best we can do.