Thankful

When I give, I give myself.
-Walt Whitman




For the second year in a row I am not in New York City for Thanksgiving. Last year I was living in Ahmedabad, India, working six days a week at a small, poorly-run CBO. I was struggling. Thinking of my time there, I was unhappy, deeply introspective, and brooding. Particularly when I revisit my writing, I am reminded of my frequent contemplative, inward-focused moods. There is no way to say this that is not clichéd, but I learned a lot about myself. Life and work in Bangkok are exponentially different and more comfortable than life in India and my thoughts are different too.

In writing I am able to walk through my thoughts, process the scenes I see and reactions I have, a way of engaging my mind, not just my actions, with the world around me. When in the U.S. I write only for myself, but when I am overseas I post some of my thoughts to the internet with the hope that I might communicate the normalcy of my actions and reactions - life here is different than it is in the US, the people here are different, the poverty can be destitute and conditions human beings live in deeply troubling, yet there is nothing heroic or extraordinary about what I am doing. The heroes are here; I am a proxy. Indeed, in reading my thoughts I hope you see that you can do this- we are similar.

When you see, smell, taste and experience the good in this world that exists in spite of the bad, you will act differently. If you can't go, if you don't go, I hope my words allow you some insight to the ordinary, humane, important, constitution-altering reactions inherent in going new places and seeing the exceptional behavior in the exact places you don't expect it.

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Lately, two quotes are stuck in my head. In their simplicity and reconcilable contrast they articulate a worldview with a sum stronger than its parts, a worldview I have been struggling to formulate for the past eight months.

"You can’t help people from a distance,” said Sergio Vieira De Mello, one of the UN's best, ever. He was killed in the famous August, 2003, bombing of UN Headquarters in Baghdad where he was the director of the UN's operation. Born in Brazil, he earned a PhD from the Sorbonne, worked at the United Nations for his entire career and earned his reputation in the field on missions in Cambodia, Timor Leste, Lebanon, Kosovo (and others). I never met him, but in reading Samantha Power's new book about him and talking to colleagues who worked with him, a few things become clear: he believed in the UN and its mandate, was a good man, was guided by right, humanitarian ideas, and was most unhappy in his office in Geneva or New York City.

The other quote is from Abraham Lincoln; "We- even we here - hold the power, and bear the responsibility."

Bridging the gap between thought and action, living life in absolute consistence with our morals is a perpetual challenge that takes years and lifetimes to reconcile. It is a constant source of tension without external answers; rather, it is something deeply personal. But this Thanksgiving, compared to last, I am different, thinking with more nuance and my thoughts and actions are closer then ever before (still, lots of room for improvement). I am thankful.

Last year and the years before that, the fourth Thursday of November summoned that same, thankful sentiment, but I now say it from an enhanced, experiential understanding of what this word means. Language is a form of expression, a system to communicate feeling and last year forced me to feel the sentiment of this word, not merely its articulation, and how to act in accordance. I am thankful. Full stop. Thinking of the message in these two quotes, how I want to live my life, I am not thankful relative to something else, not thankful for or thankful because. I am thankful.

In the middle of the night on March 6, lying in bed in my apartment in Ahmedabad, I got a call that changed me. I miss Eve. This is an example where language, my command and understanding of language, cannot match my feeling. There are not words to say how I feel.

I think of her all the time. I try hard to think about how to be in this world as a result, how to honor her and carry her legacy. I try to do this in every interaction I have, in everything I read, hear, respond to, say. Previous to this, I considered myself sensitive, but my sensitivity for things changed with that phone call. When I read the newspaper I feel the pain of bombings thousands of miles away, when I see homeless beggars I wonder where their families are, violent headlines hurt me. I wish I didn't, but I know something of the pain of these people. So, I smile, listen to people, hold doors, joke, laugh, avoid blame. I am not dumb or naive, I know some of the problems in the world and know they won't get better by smiling, but this is the spirit of De Mello's quote - act. Go there. Do something. Small and large, do something. I take his words beyond smirks and punchlines and try to work on issues that matter to me, and matter to the world, in a setting that is as close to reality as possible. Each day, I try to be there, to understand, and to work, and remove distance. I see each person as capable of being hurt like I’ve been hurt. I think of Eve, try to go there, and act.

But many days it seems that the force of the problems in the world overwhelm action, provide space for excuses and despair, and the creation of mental distance far greater than the miles and meters that sometimes separate us. We shirk responsibility. We create imagine disempowering mindsets, the ultimate form of hopelessness. We tell ourselves that we are not responsible. This is a placating farce. Here, anywhere, everywhere, we have the power. And, we have the responsibility.

I find myself ready for a new bumpersticker, not content with: "Think Globally, Act Locally." Do both. We are both places at the same time. UNC Professor James L. Peacock III wrote a book called "Grounded Globalism" where he talks about 'acting glocally.' Maybe I am thinking of this, but I don't think so. There is nothing academic in how I want to live or the actions I want to take, there is humanity. There is a place for academics and scholarship in how I understand things and grow my mind, but there is nothing complex about any of this: see the people around you, respond to them, and understand that people, real people, not statistics, human beings, sons, daughters, cousins, uncles, lovers, fiancés, husbands and wives, cheaters, gamblers, refugees, criminals, doctors, live everywhere. Do your part. Go there. Act. We are responsible.

Most importantly, smile and have a wonderful Thanksgiving.




Shout out to my dad who each year cooks a whole meal for our family, and then a second, identical meal for a soup kitchen near our home.