Now

June 2008

While I was in Rwanda (I Saw What I Saw - video by Sara Groves) I kept struggling with the question of “Why am I here?” Upon returning to the US and beginning this blog version of my notebook I continued to ask myself that question. After putting some installments out there I was contacted by my nephew (and good friend) Mike Cowles. He is a social activist in New Mexico. Really smart. Someone whose opinion I respect tremendously. He was complimentary but asked the question, “Now what?” Which I translated loosely into, “So what?” It has taken me several months to finish blogging the notebook (a direct consequence of not taking typing – keyboarding – in high school). Also, just a busy schedule, teaching little kids, being dadly, etc. But the question of “So what?” still lingers.

One result, I know, is a sense of spiritual growth. My time in Rwanda (video - Genocide in Rwanda) simply helped me to pray more clearly, more fiercely, more carefully, more joyously. I am not one to say that I know God’s plan. But, Rwanda has taught me to appreciate all of my life’s blessings, both great and small. Before Rwanda, I thought of my blessings simply as good fortune, as in, I sure am a lucky guy to have been born into a loving working class family where I wanted for nothing. How lucky I was to meet and fall in love with this beautiful woman, Heidi Mills, who has changed me and filled me and taught me so much. Before Rwanda I thought of falling into teaching little ones as fate. I thought of the adoption of our oldest son, Devin, when it seemed impossible for us to conceive, and the birth of our second son Colin (eighteen months later) as incredible good fortune. Now, when I close my eyes at night to pray, I thank God. While it’s personal, almost selfish, this view of God being responsible for what is good in my life is huge in answering the “So what?” question. My life isn’t a blind free-fall of good luck here and bad luck there. I live with more purpose. I am simply, more grateful.

Almost a year has passed since coming back from Rwanda. My memories are inevitably diminished. Caught up in the day to day demands of teaching, a busy family, etc. I go longer and longer stretches of time without thinking so much of Rwanda. Still… I think differently. Issues of social justice are so much more important to me. When I see a homeless person now I see a human being, not simply someone asking for a handout. When I hear candidates wax on in their bumper-sticker-elect-me-because-I’m-better speeches, I listen more carefully about what may slip out about caring for the poor, foreign policy with human rights as its cornerstone. I also listen for what is missing.

Because of my time in Rwanda, I read and listen to news differently. What stories are given the most ink and time? I carefully consider which stories are barely mentioned. I wonder about stories involving real human pain and suffering which are not mentioned at all. I read books and stories which make me think and don’t just entertain (Howard Zinn: You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train, Tony Campolo: Red Letter Christians, Jimmy Carter: Our Endangered Values, Shane Claiborne: Irresistible Revolution).

Because of Rwanda I definitely teach differently. Not only have I shared my stories and photos of my trip with my third graders, our second graders and my faculty, but social justice has become a cornerstone of my curriculum. When my third graders talked earlier this year about the Europeans who “discovered” and “settled” America as is written in our history books and social studies curriculum, my kids asked the obvious questions, “How could they have discovered this land when there were already millions of people here?” and, “How could they think of invading America as settling it?” I would dare say that my students know more about Civil Rights than most adults in this country. Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr. and Ruby Bridges are our heroes and role models. We are aware of the countless others who are still involved in the causes of civil rights in our country and aren’t anyone’s heroes because their names are not well known. My children know they can change the world. We held a fund raiser in which we sold CDs of original songs. In January we sent a check for $1000.00 to a truly worth cause in Mexico called Ninos Incapacitados. Because of Rwanda, all of my future students will know that they can make a positive difference in this world.

I write differently. I think I speak differently. I want others to know about Rwanda, about Africa, and to open their eyes to the wonder, grace, delights, suffering and hardships. I have spoken to many small and large groups about Rwanda. I think people are receptive to knowing about this. I find most are amazed to discover just how little they know about the world, Africa, Rwanda. Maybe it helps them to think of people outside our borders, to think of foreigners as people with similar feelings and desires. Maybe I have helped, in some small way, to put a face on people far away, to help a few people understand that Africa is not just a big backwards bunch of countries full of tribal war, AIDS, malaria and poverty.

I have come to see Rwanda as a wonderful, complex, joyful collection of people who are willing to reconcile after the unspeakable. Rwanda’s children are just like ours. They play, and laugh, and cry. They love and work and learn and pray. They toil endlessly and are grateful for what they have.

Immaculee and Richard and Gonza and the people of Rwanda are my heroes. We are a nation of great resources, great power and great wealth. Their resource is their indominatable spirit. Their power is their faith in God and a better future. Who is the more powerful? While Rwanda is a small nation in area it is huge in its heart and soul.

Whenever I think back about the great lessons in my life I will always remember the faces of the children in Ntarama when we emerged from the crypts where so many bodies still lie. Those smiling, laughing children were looking ahead, not behind at a past full of ignorance and hatred. I’ll think of the faces of the poor who blessed me for my small contributions to their lives. I’ll think of Sonrise School and of the brilliant minds of those children brought out of the depths of poverty to achieve their potential. When I think of hope and grace and love and forgiveness, I think of Rwanda.