Other worlds are possible
Notes from Cali, Colombia
Beloved readers,
I imagine as you are reading this, you might be hurting. You are probably hurting, given current world events.
As my friends at Ecoversities posted on Instagram today, “we are still processing the middle of the pain at this moment.” I feel that deeply.
I want to acknowledge what is happening, and that there is so much pain and so many feelings around it. There are unfathomable atrocities taking place as I write, and I write with this in my awareness, knowing it is in your awareness, too. I also write with the awareness and hesitation that anything I say might cause harm to some, which is not what I want.
I am not here today to give you an opinion piece on the horrendous humanitarian crisis amidst the war unfolding in the Middle East (one piece I have been sitting with all week is Bayo Akomolafe’s essay). I am trying to listen to Jewish and Palestinian voices, and pray for the peace that is so deeply needed, there and elsewhere. I will say, as you most likely already know but it bears stating, that I am unequivocally opposed to war and terrorism, and they need to end now, along with apartheid conditions that deny people their basic needs and rights. I believe in liberation for all, and I believe our collective liberation is bound together. I believe other worlds are possible.
And also…
I have been in a different world this week, a world of weaving cultures of peace in a post-peace agreement Colombia, with a group of deeply dedicated, highly motivated students who are devoting their lives to building peace and protecting human rights in their highly complex context. So today, I want to tell you about where I have been, this other world within the worlds of the present, in the hopes that it might give you a glimpse into how peace is growing in challenging places amidst difficult conditions of the hard work of building peace in a post-peace agreement context with deep polarization, need for truth telling, justice, and healing. That other worlds are unfolding within this world, and a glimpse of these worlds might make room for hope and possibility. Might give us some direction. Might remind us of our own and others’ humanity, which I believe is deeply needed right now.
This past week, I have been in Cali, Colombia in what has been one of the richest experiences of my professional life so far - and one of the most beautiful trips of my life, and I have taken many - teaching an intensive course on Education for Peace and a Culture of Peace in the Human Rights and Culture of Peace masters program at Javeriana Pontificia University. Working with this incredibly diverse (in all ways) group of students who are pursuing this masters while also engaged in peace and justice work all over Colombia has been one of the most rewarding highlights of my career.
The back story…
Leading up to this trip, I was nervous. When my colleague asked if I was available to teach the course, I said, “Yes, I am available…but I doubt my ability to facilitate a graduate-level class in Spanish.”
This turned out to not be an obstacle, and when I received the invitation, every cell in my body said YES - but then, my mind: how? How would I manage to get away for 4 days? Who could possibly take care of Daphne?
I was on my way to pick up Daphne, and said out loud to my mom, “If you were still alive, this would be easy. You would just come and help. If there is anything you can do from over there, can you help? Thanks :)”
When I got to her school, the director of the school happened to open the door (which isn’t always the case). I heard this internal voice: ASK. So I told her about the opportunity, and asked, “Do you know anyone who does nannying work?”
She said, “I do, but we could take care of her. We are already with her 9 hours a day. She could just sleep with us.”
This network arose around the trip - a friend (who is also the mom of Daphne’s best friend) also offered to take her, so she went there for the last night as a special treat (first sleepover ever!). A backup support network arose from my colleagues, and even just random neighbors who I know from around town who said, “If you need anything while you are away, we can help. We are here.”
And just typing those words brings tears to my eyes.
It does, actually, take a village. And when you are a solo parent, doing something like a 4-day work trip can feel unmangeable, impossible. But the conditions aligned for this to happen, thanks to the beautiful support network of my community in Costa Rica. A web of support for Daphne so I could go do the work I was called to do.
And a web of support that extends beyond the earthly plane. Thanks, Mom :)
I prepared intensely for this trip. I took Spanish lessons (the intensive I did in Monteverde over the summer was in anticipation of this trip, although I hadn’t been formally invited at that point). I read academic articles about peace education- which I didn’t know I was capable of (but it turns out I am! With a dictionary in hand and about ten words a page, I am learning academic writing vocabulary). I learned as much about Colombia as I could, and my evening Netflix time turned into “Colombia documentaries and Spanish language movies” time. All of this has enriched my world immensely.
Which is to say, I put in a lot of work into preparing for this trip. A lot of effort. A lot of love. And then at some point, as I wrote about a few weeks ago, you have to stop preparing and trust that what you’ve done is enough. You have to let go, ground, center, and be present to the process.
The process
When I teach and facilitate, one of the things I often use as an opening is the “weaving our web of learning” activity that I found in the San Antonio Peace Resource manual years ago and have worked with and adapted over time (I’ll edit to add the instructions below later, or in a separate post). It’s a very adaptable activity and can be used in many different ways. For the Javeriana students, I used it with the prompt: share your name, anything you want us to know about you, and what you are bringing with you/what you are arriving with.
This was the start of many learning exchanges to come, and I came to learn that although they had been together in the program for a few months, this was the first time they had the chance to learn from and with each other- to learn about each other’s lives and hearts and experiences and areas of interest. It was the first space that had opened up for them to exchange. To hear their opinions and ideas. To listen and share with each other. And they were thirsty for it. They yearned for it. And when given the space, they dove right in.
What unfolded over the three days was powerful, deep, and profound, and I think most of all I am struck (again) by the power of building and growing learning communities. I am struck by the simplicity of so much of what I brought, and the profound depth of sharing that it evoked.
As I write to you from the cafe at the airport, I am dwelling in as sense of affirmation and confirmation of the gifts that I bring. For those of you who know me, this might come as an obvious realization, but sometimes we ourselves are less aware of our own gifts.
Through this trip, and through my work this past year at UPEACE, I feel so clear about what I bring to the world. I weave communities. Learning communities especially, but not only. I feel edified by this trip, that this is the work I am called to do, and also weaving transrational ways of knowing, holding intellectual rigor alongside rigorous care and relational rigor, putting well-being (and joy and peace and play) at the center of learning. Of modeling other ways. Of reimagining education from within, through how and what we learn and through relationships.
Returning to my nervousness before the trip, part of what I was nervous about was coming in as an outsider, someone who had grown up in the US and lives a quite peaceful life in Costa Rica, who does not have the lived experience of growing up in war (while my country has been at war in my life, the effects were far away from home). No matter how much I read or watch, there is know amount of learning I can do to know with at this is like to live with and grow up in. I wondered whether what could offer was what was needed. I came in humble, and introduced myself as such: You are the experts of your context. I am here to learn with you, and I hope what I can bring might be useful.
I was invited. I accepted the invitation, answered the call, and trusted that the invitation was an indication that what I can offer was what was needed.
And I can tell you from what the students told me, it is what they needed. They needed to be shown their are different ways to do things. They needed a learning space that nourished their connections with each other. They needed space to shine and create and laugh together. They needed space to meet each other, in all their humanity.
We only had three days together. But we started weaving community. Doing the work they are doing, around peace and justice and human rights in a post-peace agreement highly polarized Colombia, they need networks of support. They can’t do it alone. They need each other. And I trust that their connections will grow and strengthen the work they are each doing around the country.
I leave Cali with so much more than I came with- and also, as one student shared, lighter. I leave with a web of relationships woven into my heart, including the place and the culture, which touched me deeply. I return home emboldened in my work, and with immense clarity about what I need to do. I return bearing gifts for the beautiful community in Costa Rica that supported me to be here. I return with an increased motivation to continue improving my Spanish, and to learn salsa :) (Cali is the world capital of salsa dancing!).
I can’t tell you to not lose hope. But I can tell you that losing hope is futile. Losing hope doesn’t help. I owe it to my friends and colleagues in the Congo and Colombia to not lose hope. I owe it to Daphne.
I leave you with this: we might feel at a loss about what to do to help what is happening in the Middle East. I know I do. We can look for ways to be in solidarity from afar, to take the small actions we can to be in solidarity with those who are suffering, like donate to organizations who are doing relief work, and calling our representatives to support nonviolent responses. We can pray, and we can listen to the voices of those who are suffering the most, who are most impacted. I welcome you to share your ideas or what you are doing in the comments below.
But I also know that we can foster and grow and generate peace in the places and worlds we touch. We need to, actually. In our lives and work. In our families and relationships. In the small ways, which I believe do ripple out to the big ways. Which may seem small or not enough right now, but I believe it the process. It’s not an end point. Peace is a practice and a continuous unfolding and becoming. I am inspired by my students, who really took this to heart this week. It is what many of them shared they were leaving with. Peace on Colombia, for many of them, seemed to feel very far away for many of them when they arrived. But I know some of them left with a sense of transformative agency, that there are things they can do, and that the small things they do in their daily lives and communities, to build cultures of peace in the places they touch, is actually significant.
Other worlds are possible. This world where violence is used as the only answer is not the only option. It’s certainly not a good option. It is hard work getting to other worlds, but reminding ourselves that they are possible is a start.
Four days alone in a nice hotel room with a comfy bed was amazing, and I can genuinely say I enjoyed the lightness of traveling alone, carrying a little less (with my new luggage!!!), being able to focus. But now I’m ready to get home and see Daphne and talk about our adventures while we were apart.
May all beings be at peace. May all beings be safe, protected, and free from danger. May all beings be healthy and thriving. May all beings dwell in joy.
With love,
Stephanie
PS This picture summarizes my feelings about my trip to Colombia, taken on my last night there:
