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| http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110312/ap_on_re_us/us_japan_earthquake_us |
The last time I saw the play “The Diary of Anne Frank” I experienced it in a new way. Having read the book and seen the play so many times, my intense emotional reaction caught me off guard.
This time I experienced the Frank’s story through Edith’s eyes—Anne’s mother. Only then did I realize how much easier simply worrying about my own fate was (identifying with Anne’s character as I always had in the past) compared with trying to maintain some composure and create a semblance of comfort and stability for one’s children in the face of horror.
As I write this, I imagine the parents of Japan—reeling, terrified, exhausted, homeless, traumatized, broken and damaged themselves–having to go about the business of parenting. I imagine them saying I’m here. It will be alright. It’s all over now first after the earth cracked open and redistributed all the contents of their civilization like a snow globe thrown under a semi, again after the ocean swallowed the confetti remnants of their neighborhoods, and only then to come up for air tinged with radiation seeping out of nearby nuclear plants, with family and friends unaccounted for or worse.
I remember holding my 1-year-old son in my condo in Chicago when hurricane Katrina hit. I spent hours watching CNN while he slept on me—needing to bear witness and experiencing such intense fear and despair vicariously through the screen. The helpless feelings were twofold; the intense frustration of watching the help not coming, and the helpless feeling of imagining myself as a new mother in such an unimaginable situation.
Cataclysmic moments of natural disaster, terrorism, or war give us all pause—literally stopping us in our tracks for a moment as a society. But of course tragedies occur every day—cataclysmic in size in the lives of those affected–and often go unnoticed right in our own neighborhoods, among our friends, and on facebook.
What can we do? We can give some dollars (paypal makes it exceedingly easy, by the way). We can say prayers of gratitude and kiss our own children’s heads–trying to fend off the feelings of guilt over thank you God it isn’t us. We can offer help with errands, meals, or words of comfort.
And yes, we can bear witness.
My primary motivation for going to graduate school in social work, and one of the driving factors behind LTYM Shows is giving voice by bearing witness. Because giving your story a voice gives it power, and gives it as a gift to other people going through something similar. You sharing your story holds hope for those not yet strong enough to do so. Something about hearing someone else speaking your truth gives it validity—confirming yes, this happened to me too.
People of Japan, though despair makes me want to shut down and turn away, I will look at your photos and read your stories.
We are here. We hear you. We see. And we are hopeful for your resilience.
{ 15 comments }
Its the thank you God it isn't us … that gets me.
Yesterday we were still on vacation, the lady taking care of us on the concierge level was from Japan.
We watched the news together.
She said to me, 'You must look at life like a plate. You must have what is on your plate today. Enjoy it. Tomorrow you will have something else on your plate.'
She was waiting to hear from family.
I hope her plate is filled with good things today.
Thank you for watching and for being present. That's its own form of prayer.
Amen.
Ann, your words here are exactly why I do everything that I can, as simple as my life is, to support Listen To Your Mother.
Because it is exactly as you so dead on put it: giving voice bears witness.
Witness to all our stories.
You are so right.
I loved this post.
yes bearing witness, and praying for resiliency. thank you for your words.
Ann – wow. What a beautiful post that expresses what we all are feeling. It's almost too much for me to think about what these mamas are dealing with in Japan…..but I do. And I will continue to do so…and yes, we will bear witness.
xoxo
I have goosebumps. Yes. Yes. Yes.
Thank you, Ann. YES.
So it is also really important to know when to turn off the images and step away. I over did it this morning, reading the news, scouring through pictures, crying crying–and then I felt ill.
So important to go out in the sunshine and experience the life around you.
Because both are happening, and both are vitally important.
Thanks for the comments, guys.
So, so, SO VERY TRUE. Feeling every word of this post, and so much pain for them all, but the moms most especially.
So so true. There is an image from Katrina that is absolutely burned into my mind. It's a closeup shot of a mother holding her child and she looks exhausted and terrified and just completely drained…but still somehow resolute and steady.
Theo and I looked through the photos at TheDailyMail together after we talked earlier…
This post brings it even more home. Thank you for putting it into words.
Oh, Ann(e). You are so beautiful that FIFTY e's couldn't do your loveliness justice.
You are a seriously impressive person.
Ann,
The ability to walk through he'll with our hearts remaining open and compassionate to others, that is love and prayer, friendship and loyalty to humankind.
This post is so beautifully written. May we all keep our eyes and hearts open as this tragedy continues to unfold.
God have mercy on all of us
Oh, this moved me. I was watching the news and got teary eyed and then my brain just kind of shut down; I couldn't process it anymore.
A paypal donation seems so SMALL in the face of all this, but I'm donating anyway. Every little bit counts, every prayer counts.
And they can't shut their eyes, or turn of the TV, or walk away, so I will look, I will bear witness, too.
-Ellie
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