A Long Way Gone; Memories of a Boy Soldier
September 21, 2008 at 5:56 pm | In Uncategorized | Leave a CommentTags: A long way gone, africa, Book recommendation, child, Child soldier, Ishmael Beah, Sierra Leone, soldier, war
I am taking a Comparative Lit class on child soldiers around the world. I just finished A Long Way Gone and am desperately trying to take it all in. Here is the excerpt and a quick explanation about Ishmael’s Beah’s amazing book. You should definitely read it!
At the age of twelve, he fled attacking rebels and wandered a land rendered unrecognizable by violence. By thirteen, he’d been picked up by the government army, and Beah, at heart a gentle boy, found that he was capable of truly terrible acts. Eventually released by the army and sent to a UNICEF rehabilitation center, he struggled to regain his humanity and to reenter the world of civilians, who viewed him with fear and suspicion. This is, at last, a story of redemption and hope.
New York City, 1998
My high school friends have begun to suspect I haven’t told them the full story of my life.
“Why did you leave Sierra Leone?”
“Because there is a war.”
“Did you witness some of the fighting?”
“Everyone in the country did.”
“You mean you saw people running around with guns and shooting each other?”
“Yes, all the time.”
“Cool.”
I smile a little.
“You should tell us about it sometime.”
“Yes, sometime.”
Ishmael Beah
This is how wars are fought now: by children, traumatized, hopped-up on drugs and wielding AK-47s. Children have become the soldiers of choice. In the more than fifty conflicts going on worldwide, it is estimated that there are some 300,000 child soldiers. Ishmael Beah used to be one of them.
What does war look like through the eyes of a child soldier? How does one become a killer? How does one stop? Child soldiers have been profiled by journalists, and novelists have struggled to imagine their lives. But it is rare to find a first-person account from someone who endured this hell and survived.
In A LONG WAY GONE: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, Beah, now twenty-six years old, tells a powerfully gripping story: At the age of twelve, he fled attacking rebels and wandered a land rendered unrecognizable by violence. By thirteen, he’d been picked up by the government army, and Beah, at heart a gentle boy, found that he was capable of truly terrible acts. At sixteen, he was removed from fighting by UNICEF, and through the help of the staff at his rehabilitation center, he learned how to forgive himself, to regain his humanity, and, finally, to heal.
This is an extraordinary and mesmerizing account, told with real literary force and heartbreaking honesty.
- Click here for more. Or click the picture for the nytimes article.
A reply to Kaya (an upset reader)
September 15, 2008 at 9:29 pm | In Uncategorized | 1 CommentTags: destiny, gentrification, God, kaya, Mott Haven, patronizing, Paulo Coelho, poor, South Bronx, suburban, white, white privilege, zoo
I received this disturbing message in response to my entry on the South Bronx 1 and the South Bronx 2. I wanted to open this up for more comments.
“the depth of your white privilege is astounding. a poor black neighborhood is not a zoo or an art exhibit for suburban white kids. you are taking up space that should go to someone who actually lives in that neighborhood and lacks the economic privilege to move away to a better neighborhood. this is how gentrification gets started.
i don’t even know what else to say, i’m just floored by how patronizing this is and so uncomfortable i can no longer even look at this. ugh.” – Kaya
My reply,
Please let me explain. I think you have the wrong impression from reading my update about the South Bronx. I agree, the depth of my white privilege IS astounding, and I don’t like it and it makes me feel physically sick. A black neighborhood is not a zoo nor an art exhibit. We are not treating it as such in ANY way. As of right now, I am not living there, but the girls who are living there have goals that have nothing to do with self-gain, or some sort of school project. They are living there because they are appalled at the differences in socio-economic living situations in the United States. They want to change things. What is a better way to change something than working from the heart of it? They have made incredible friendships from living there. One girl spends her days tutoring at schools in the area and she runs a non-profit connecting other college kids to Mott Haven students for tutoring. Another one works there as a teacher! Kids from the buildings around the apartment come and get help on their homework. What is so wrong about this? Taking it to a deeper level, they are trying to follow Jesus’s instruction to love their neighbors as themselves. They are not religious nutcases moving in trying to convert people. They are just living and loving people who think they have been “forgotten about” by the system, and the rest of the world (quoting a woman I met on the street).
I, personally, am still just a student. I am trying to learn everything I can. That’s why I want to live in the area- so that I can understand the problems on a deeper level to eventually change things. I want to put my white privileged education to good use. I’ve met some really cool people that I would otherwise never have met. I am not living there because it’s cheaper, nor because I’m fascinated by the people, and certainly not because I want to start to kick people who “deserve” to live there out (as you implied with gentrification. No one deserves to live there anyway.) I’m sorry if that was not clear enough in my entry.
I’m confused at the statement that I will be “taking up space that should go to someone who actually lives in that neighborhood.” Please explain more. I am not living in low-cost housing nor am I mooching off the welfare system. I do come from a very wealthy area, but why do you condemn me for wanting to move away from excess wealth? The situation in the South Bronx is a crisis. When New Orleans needed help (as I know it still does), volunteers went down to help people clean up. Some left “better” areas to move there to devote more time to helping. The same goes for many other places around the world. What is so wrong about people loving other people? Because when it comes down to it… that is really the ONLY goal.
May I ask where you are from and what your background is? Do you know the area? I am taking your comment very seriously and want to understand more. Thank you.
- Julia
I am eagerly awaiting her response, but none has come yet. I have re-read over the entry and do not find anything patronizing about it. In fact, I make it very clear that my goal is to treat the people with dignity and respect, become friends with them, and understand the situation from the inside. I wrote, “Who am I to help these people? I have NO idea what they really need or what I have to offer. Sure, I can do the things like tutor, or serve at a soup kitchen, but there’s no way to know about the long-term effects of said help without joining the people and becoming one of them.”
I also described the house very clearly as, “We want our house to be a hospitality house full of love… We want to know our neighbors and just become part of the community on Beekman Ave. We want to treat the people with respect and worth. I’m hoping we will have kids over for game nights and tutoring nights, and friends from the neighborhood over for dinner. One room, the hang out room, is full of games and books. People can bring a book in exchange for another (obviously people who don’t have books can just take one). And already, we are putting together a closet with our friends extra clothes and toys.”
I am trying to understand how this is patronizing. Please help me if you read this. When she implies that we are treating the people as zoo animals, is it because of my writing? I recorded some of my experience that day almost word for word. It’s just how my day went. Yes, I throw in some opinions and feelings that are certainly from an outsider’s point of view (the view of a white woman from a wealthy area), but that’s because I think they are important. Some of them I might not be proud of. In a few years, I might look back and laugh at how ignorant I am right now. It’s all part of the learning process on this journey of mine. A journey where few people go. I think a lot in my life will be learned through trial and error because there isn’t a “how-to” for many of the things I want to do (trust me, I’ve looked!). This move (that as of right now I am not taking anyway) might be an error, but I don’t think it is.
Anyway. Why I’m not actually living there. (This is long over-due). I love the girls who are living there very much. Our vision for the apartment was very much the same, but I stopped feeling comfortable with my decision to live there. Not safety wise- just if that’s where I’m supposed to be. I lost the peace (but not the excitement) of living there, and did not want to follow through with something that didn’t feel right. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it ended with two weeks of hard-core prayer and contemplation. And maybe a few fights with God. I don’t understand why I felt so sure about living there (I hadn’t made the decision lightly the first time) for so many months. Then, all of a sudden, thing’s felt very different. Something wasn’t right about it. I yelled at God, “God, I am trying to do what You want me to do. I am trying to spread Your love. This was all for YOU. I thought this was what you wanted!! Why would You take it away now before I’ve even started!!!” After a few sleepless nights, I stopped talking and just started listening. All I could hear was just trust me. So, I still don’t understand it all. What good could come out of living at home? I’m away from my friends. Not living in the South Bronx- ah, my year just looks entirely different. I will update on how it’s going in another entry though.
Right now I want to ask you what you think of all of this. I still don’t think anyone reads this, but if you are reading- please leave a little comment about everything you’ve read. Thank you.
By Paulo Coelho
“I am willing to give up everything”, said the prince to the master. “Please accept me as your disciple.”
“How does a man choose his path?” asked the master.
“Through sacrifice,” answered the prince. “A path which demands sacrifice, is a true path.”
The master bumped into some shelves. A precious vase fell, and the prince threw himself down in order to grab hold of it. He fell badly and broke his arm, but managed to save the vase.
“What is the greater sacrifice: to watch the vase smash, or break one’s arm in order to save it?” asked the master.
“I do not know,” said the prince.
“Then how can you guide your choice for sacrifice? The true path is chosen by our ability to love it, not to suffer for it.”
An update: South Bronx
August 24, 2008 at 12:58 am | In Uncategorized | 3 CommentsOn Me…
Many years ago I figured out where I am happiest. It’s Africa. I don’t know if it will always be Africa, but right now it’s Africa. This summer’s experience in Kenya reinforced what I knew to be true but did not want to believe. I had to return home to learn more before committing fully to a life of service abroad. I know I have more to learn before I can go back. I want to accomplish the most that I can in this short life.
As George Bernard Shaw said, “This is the true joy in life … being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one … being a force of Nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy … I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die. For the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It’s a sort of splendid torch which I’ve got to hold up for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing on to future generations.”
A year ago, I figured out where I want to live while I’m in the US preparing to go elsewhere. I believe we are all made to live in fellowship and close communion with each other and we ARE our brother’s keepers. What does that mean? Well, according to Jesus it means that we are supposed to love our neighbors as ourselves. Except it’s more than that too, it’s putting others needs and desires before my own. Always thinking about what is in the best interest of others- even at my own expense. So that’s what I’m trying to do with my life. I know it sounds difficult, but sit for a second and think of how different the world would be if everyone loved everyone and everyone put everyone else’s best interest first. Wow. What would that look like, and would it even work? That’s what I want to find out.
How does this translate into every day things? Well, if I want food to eat, I have to be just as concerned that all my neighbors have food too. Or shelter, a good education, safety, loving relationships, you name it. Some people think a neighbor is someone living next door, or in the neighborhood, or even in the country. I like to think of the world as one place, and the human population as one big family where we are all brothers and sisters just trying to get along.
So, I figured I’d go to the poorest area I could find. Well, with three friends, I found it! Mott Haven, located in the South Bronx, is less than 20 miles from my home in Rye, New York. More than 50% live below the poverty line. More than 35% of them are children. The idea was to move in, live very simply, make many friends, really get to know the people and become a part of the community, all while going to school. Why? We can accomplish more that way. By living in the community, and becoming part of the community, we aren’t just coming in and saying, “ok, here I am, let me help!” and then packing up and leaving a few hours, days, or weeks later. Who am I to help these people? I have NO idea what they really need or what I have to offer. Sure, I can do the things like tutor, or serve at a soup kitchen, but there’s no way to know about the long-term effects of said help without joining the people and becoming one of them.
Here are some examples from around the world to illustrate what I mean. In the winter of 2002, I handed out Christmas gifts to the children living in the garbage dumps of Mexico. These kids live in cardboard boxes or abandoned cars, and live on what they can salvage of other people’s trash. So, I go and hand out whatever I have to give them- little toys and food. The kids and the mothers are thrilled. They give us hugs while murmuring “gracias” over and over again with tears in their eyes. Sounds great, right? Wrong- really wrong. The 500 toys we handed out that Christmas had a negative effect on the community as a whole. While the kids went to bed happy that night, the father’s (the providers for the family) lost respect in the eyes of the children. We stepped in, took the father’s place, and gave the family’s more than the father’s could- thus usurping them of the power and respect father’s need to raise a family. There was an easier way we could’ve done this, and a better way for the community as a whole. The next year, the Christmas toys were kept at the community center, and a few nights before Christmas, the father’s came, bought their children Christmas gifts (for a very low price), wrapped the gifts themselves, and then gave them to their kids Christmas morning. Problem solved. Because Tim lives there all the time, he could see the effects of our “help” and make changes accordingly.
Very few people need hand outs- people need hands! Many times, handouts just reinforce the cycle of poverty and the power divisions between the haves and the have-not’s.
One missionary friend brings me stories from Honduras where do-gooders come in with toothbrushes and pens and pencils to build a school building. They hand out their gifts to the children; take lots of pictures, and leave. The long-term missionaries are left fixing the wreckage left behind. The next day kids whack each other with their new gifts and fight over them. The children who did not get any are upset and mad that God has been so unfair. Next time visitors come, the kids ask for more. If the new visitors are unprepared to give out gifts, the kids ask, “What’s wrong? Do you not love us? The visitors before gave us gifts.” If a mission team builds a long-term relationship with people, they must be careful NOT to reinforce a cycle of have and have-nots.
In Kenya, the kids on the side of the road have gotten so used to receiving sweets from visitors. Whenever you walk by, hundreds of kids run out screaming, “sweets, sweets, sweets please!” I look and smile and shake my head and keep walking.
What I’d like to do is live in one community for a few years before tackling social problems that right now, I am only beginning to understand (poverty, welfare, drugs, gang warfare, school drop-out rates, health issues, etc.). In the meantime, I just want to learn, learn, learn, and learn some more! And love all the people I meet.
Jillian, who is a total saint, spent the summer finding the perfect place. Our apartment is located at Beekman Avenue at 141st street. Beekman’s notorious for being one of the deadliest and most dangerous streets in the city- and it’s a very short block! In the past few days I’ve spent time walking around and getting to know the people. The next entry will contain what I’ve learned from my conversations, observations, and the book “Amazing Grace” by Jonathan Kozol.
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein.
August 3, 2008 at 6:39 am | In The Journey, Uncategorized | Leave a CommentTags: boat, cell phones, change the world, family, friends, good books, How to win friends and influence people, infidel, internet, julia de santis, julia desantis, Lake Cumberland, Mountains beyond mountains, news, one teenagers quest to save the world, save the world, sin of over-communication, technology, three cups of tea, tubing, water-ski, youth
Right now I am in Burnside, Kentucky with my family visiting my grandparents. A few years ago, I counted up the weeks and months I had spent here as a child and came to the conclusion that it had to be at least two or three years. But, the times have changed. The long lazy summers of boating, waterskiing, tubing, VBS, southern cooking, and family and friends has been reduced to a short week of somewhat frenzied visits, and one or two fun-filled lake days.
Because we are only here for a week this year, I put my computer and phone away. I’ve decided that this age of communication and technology is really incredible, but it’s dangerous! Yes, dangerous. And not because someone might post negative pictures of me or because someone could stalk my every move and murder me. Don’t get me wrong, I think the benefits of technology far out-weigh the negatives. The internet, social networking, cell phones and digital v/cameras connect people and information around the world. But, for over-users like me, it’s a distraction from life. My aunt Rosemary calls it “the sin of over-communication.” When I’m using my phone, I am too distracted to fully focus on the people around me! I might be in touch with more people at once through texts and facebook, but I’m never fully present.
Same thing goes for when I try to follow the news. This year, I started waking up early to give myself time to read through the New York Times and the Drudge Report. At first, I was so excited (and dare I say it, proud) to be up on all the current events around the world. I could spend all afternoon reading and not get anything productive done. I thought what I was doing was VERY productive. But, I could only read so many articles talking about the rising price of oil, the declining economy, political conflicts, natural disasters, diseases, and political speeches before things started sounding pretty repetitive. What’s the point of knowledge without action? Who cares if I know Mugabe or Kibaki’s most recent activities or the death toll from the Tsunami if I’m not acting on what I’m learning. I’ve decided that while the news is important, it takes a back-seat to my life and my dreams.
I love the idea of always being connected, but it’s too much. I have enjoyed spending time with my immediate and extended family and friends without my cell phone/computer/the news distracting me. When I get home, I am going to keep my cell phone on vibrate for emergencies, but I will only pick up/read and respond to texts when I am alone or it’s important. No more dinners or hanging-out conversations where I apologize while I look down to text someone back. I can imagine this might be really frustrating for someone trying to get in touch with me, but it’s just the way it’s going to be. If I don’t text back immediately, I’m not trying to be rude- I just am busy! You’ll have to leave a message and I will call you back when I have time- same thing goes for e-mail.
Anyway, I am SO sore from water-skiing and tubing down on the lake so today I visited the local bookstore. It’s nothing like Barnes & Noble, but there was still a good plethora of books to look at. I let myself wander over to the self-help section. You know, the area of the bookstore with titles like, “Ten Steps to a New You!” “Hottest Sex Positions” “Why Men Cheat” or “The Secret to Happiness.” I looked specifically for books about young women and men making a difference (with an eye out for anything on Africa). There were plenty of books about losing weight, thinking positively, and how to live a better life, but I certainly did not find what I was looking for. Where are the books about changing the world? Three of my favorite books ever are Mountains Beyond Mountains, Three Cups of Tea, and Infidel. But those three are all about older folks, and the other ones about teens are fictional (Angel of Mercy). Please recommend any books you can think of! Anyway, after looking around the bookstore for one such book, I am thinking I should write my own. Of course I’m not a writer, and I’ve never really taken any advanced writing classes- but I could try. Here’s what it could say on the back:
I am on a quest to save the world.
It’s an impossible quest.
But the journey is unlike anything else.
I am not alone.
There are many who have gone before me.
Many who are with me now.
And many will come after I die.
It’s a hell of a trip.
What are the goals?
There’s only one-
Love.
Does the quest sound hard?
It’s easier than you might think.
Join me?
Haha, does it sound like something you might want to read- or is it just totally corny? I want to share my experiences and the stories of those I’ve met. I don’t care so much how. I just want to bring attention to real people with real need and the importance of LOVE/God. It could be through writing, video, photography, or presentations. All four would be cool too. And I want to encourage other people to follow their dreams. Is there anything else more important?
My sister (age 10) just picked up a book- How to Win Friends and Influence People. She really does not need any help with either of those BUT she just looked at me and said, “Julia, did you know, people are most interested in themselves? Not other people. I don’t think you knew that. You always tell me to do the opposite. Well, the New York telephone company made a detailed study of telephone conversations to find out which word is the most frequently used. It is the personal pronoun- I, I, I. It was used 3,900 times in five hundred telephone conversations. Think about it, when you look at a picture, who is the first person you look for?” I looked at her and was like oh, hm… because I was busy writing. Then, I made her repeat the whole thing again. I told her that’s true, but that it’s possible, and more fulfilling to think about others first. Ohhhhh man…
London
June 30, 2008 at 9:18 am | In Uncategorized | 1 CommentI’ve made it safely to London. Friday at 5am, I left Tenwek by matatu. Petra, Patti and I arrived at Patti’s house around 11am. We spent the day bopping around the city, but made sure to fall asleep EARLY. Yesterday morning, Patti’s mom drove me to the airport. I sat next to a man from the Lake Victoria region who is practicing to be a social worker in London. The 8 hour trip never seems so long when you make friends!
Finding Chelsea wasn’t too hard. I wrongly assumed I’d get a chance to check the internet for an e-mail or fb message with the address on it. Even at the airport the internet wouldn’t work down in the security/baggage claim. So, I grabbed all my stuff and headed down to the tube. I looked at the map to figure out how to get to Brixton. Carrying all my stuff was the hard part- and definitely a reason to get luggage with wheels!! I arrived in Brixton and asked for my way to the nearest internet cafe. The man behind the desk laughed when I walked in (I mean it’s definitely at least 60-70 pounds of stuff). I found a phone and called her cell phone, and sent an e-mail home telling my mom I’d arrived safely. She and Molly were two streets down and found me pretty quickly
I will definitely be updating some more when I get home. Just reflections. I’m looking forward to seeing my family, but, I did not want to leave Kenya. That’s usually true anywhere I go, but this time it was a different feeling. This time, I realized I could stay.
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