1 Billion Acts of Peace
So I'm up at 4am on a Saturday, writing in my blog because my mind has been so busy trying to wrap around my experience last night I can no longer sleep. And that is in some way symbolic, I think. None of us should sleep any longer; there is much work to do.
For those of you who just joined me, last night I heard six Nobel Peace Prize laureates address youth from all over the world, as part of Peace Jam.
The evening opened with a short film about the team of young people from Tibet, who are working in India to provide clean water to those who simply did not have any. Want to understand your privilege in the world? Go to the tap right now, knowing that you won't get sick from what comes out. It just doesn't get more basic than that. This realization wasn't earthshattering to me, I knew it was true, but putting names and faces and pictures to this message did shake me.
So Team Tibet comes forward and they do not speak for themselves, but only of his Holiness, the Dalai Lama, who charged them with their task. It was the first time he came up that night, but I think almost every laureate mentioned him at least once. He was very much present, despite his absence on the podium.
There was a lot of talk of God and religion last night. I mention it because it was notable that religion was discussed by nearly every laureate, and if not religion, then spirituality and belief in God. And yet, all spoke of tolerance, of unity--of peace--and the commonality between all religions. I think Desmond Tutu capped the point of that very well in his talk, but he spoke last--so I'll finish that thought in a moment.
So let me tell you a little bit about each of the laureates and share with you some of the things that have kept me sleepless this morning.
Shirin Ebadi, first female judge in Iran, who had to fight to become a lawyer--rather than a clerk or a secretary after the revolution--spoke first. She had some very wise things to say about the politics of war and religion. Through a translator she said, "no government should spend more on their military than they do on health care and education. If we want peace in our countries then we should dissolve our militaries and spend the money on education." She also spoke of religion, and noted that differences in religion were often used as justification for war, but that the differences are not as great as the similarities amongst all religions.
Betty Williams, who brought Catholic and Protestant children together in an integrated school in Northern Ireland, spoke next. She is white haired now, but a fiesty spirit. When the crowd got to thier feet to welcome her to the podium, she made everybody hug, in that typical Irish school teachery way ("Well, if you're going to stand up, then everybody has to hug. Go on now..." then a few moments later as the hug fest starts to take on a life of its own: "all right, now, sit down. Sit down.") Betty spoke of the Dalai Lama and him asking to meet her at an event they both attended in Africa. "Oh, and when his Holiness calls me, oh, Mother of God, I run..."
Her focus has been on children all these years, and it started with that school. When they opened they had 6 Catholic and 5 Protestant children to start and they feared that the press was going to focus only on the fact that it wasn't balanced. The day they opened a new student came and his mother said: "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but here he is." Betty stopped and said, "I hate to ask you this, but...is your child Protestant or Catholic?" Protestant, and the mother had her bones crushed by the future laureate--because now the press would have their numbers. Part of the focus of that school was to expose the children to other religions, and they started by bringing in a Buddhist monk. When she explained to one little boy that a Buddhist monk was coming to speak with them he said: "Is he a Catholic Buddhist or a Protestant Buddhist." And that, really, sums a lot of the issue up, doesn't it? It is amazing what education can do in broadening one's field of vision and enabling tolerance to find a toehold.
President Jose Ramos Horta, who worked to free East Timor, was scheduled to speak, but was unable to attend. An assassination attempt at the beginning of the year left him still too ill to make the journey--this was to be his first public appearance.
Adolfo Perez Esquivel, once imprisoned in Argentina for speaking out against the disappearances, spoke next. Amnesty International named him the political prisoner of the year and launched a tremendous letter writing campaign that eventually led to his freedom. He is a bit of a poet, and I think his translator had a hard time turning his off the cuff speech into English. He spoke of building a community without evil, and he made everyone stand up, join hands and take an oath to make it happen. I can't remember a lot of it, because it was kind of a biligual affair with people repeating after him in Spanish and the translator then having to wait to give the English and me understanding the Spanish most of the time and translating in my head, getting lost--it was a powerful moment though, and I think all the translation issues just added to that. People from all over speaking two languages at once, hands clasped and talking of fighting a good fight, a fight to end evil--powerful moment.
So, yeah, the evening wasn't without it's share of kum-ba-ya-yas, but there was more to it than that.
Enter Jody Williams, who labored to end military use of land mines and cluster bombs (and says nukes are next). Jody had a lot of great things to say, and noted that there were only 7 female nobel laureates (ever) and 6 of them were living. (and I pause in an aside to note that 5 of those 6 women are very involved in the same causes, like Peace Jam, and that those 5 were all slated to talk last night--how fortunate I am.) She spoke passionately about peace--having replaced rhetoric that had disturbed a young woman earlier that day when she spoke of being "violently peaceful." Truly, this woman was an inspiration to me. She didn't speak a gentle line, she talked with attitude and humor and a healthy dose of righteous anger. I think I have a new hero.
"Peace is not the rainbow with the dove flying over it--that is serenity...peace is socio-economic justice."
On top of that, she got Archbiship Desmond Tutu to show us his legs and strike a pose, because peace is sexy.
She said that when people find out you're 'for peace' they want to call you names like: "peacenik, wimpy, tree-hugging liberal." Her response was to remind them of the sister laureate who had wanted to speak tonight, but was unable to attend due to being imprisoned in Burma (Aung San Suu Kyi). But she didn't leave it there, she challenged those who though peace was for wimps to go serve out her imprisonment with her, by her side, and find out what courage was.
When I looked up Aung San Suu Kyi for net links this morning, I find that when we were speaking of her, she was wringing concessions out of the junta.
Jody reminded us of her friend's struggle for democracy, as well as Horta's in East Timor, and admonished us all to vote--reminded us that people around the world are dying for the rights that many of us refuse to exercise or simply don't care about.
Rigoberta Menchu Tum was the last woman to speak; her struggle in Guatemala brought more than one tear down my cheeks. She was so honest and matter of fact and...ironic. Afterward, my husband looked at me and said, Jody Williams and Rigoberta Tum in the same room--now THAT's a dinner party. (Although I would consider it incomplete without the inclusion of Betty Williams who was also a tremendous person and a stitch in the side). She spoke of her struggles and torture and how when you are "screwed" enough, you find consciousness and take action--there really isn't a choice. She was brave enough (or, as she put it, screwed enough) to be the first woman, AND first indigenous presidential candidate in Guatemala, and she ran on her own money--refusing to take funds from anyone and having to compromise her values. This woman reminded us all, however, that we didn't need to have the same experiences as her to "become conscious," and that we don't have to be laureates to move the world in the right direction.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrapped up the speakers and I wish I could capture his entire speech. He, of all the speakers seemed to aim his comments to the youngest in the audience, relying on storytelling techniques. He was simply mesmerizing--soft spoken, expressive without using many words, he drew everyone to him as he related "what God must think, looking at us." He pulled our focus from the atrocities and war and nastiness, which makes God weep, to focus on the moments of brightness of people being kind that brings God laughter through tears--and remind our Creator why we were made. He left us by telling us, over and over, to "dream the dream." And then amid thunderous ovation, he led his fellow laureates away by dancing his way off the stage.
I'm still not sure what this all means to me, but my husband and I looked at each other afterward and wondered where it is we are being led. Some people may call what we experienced this week in regard to this event as a string of coincidences. And, perhaps that is all they are. Perhaps they are guidance from Spirit. Perhaps it is all our imaginings. Either way, if we are able to bring some good into the world from these events, isn't that the important part? Whether you believe in the God of Tutu or not, the dream we are asked to live is what matters, it doesn't really matter if it came from a deity or the mind of a human, does it? We need to live the dream and do our part to commit the 1 billion acts of peace in the next ten years that the Peace Jammers aspire to do.