Reflections from Geneva

Sitting in a crowded room filled with activists from all over the world in the basement of a building off a side street of the city I was brought back to the days of sitting in the basement of the Kay Spiritual Life Center at the American University for a variety of grassroots planning and United Methodist and CASJ meetings focused on the call to justice and action.

Although this room was filled with United Methodists, much like the days at the university, the colored faces of those around me told of much longer, much harder and much more diverse stories than the faces of my university colleagues. Already in my participation in the United Methodist delegation to the People’s Global Action during the past three days, I have been inspired by the stories that have been shared and anticipate that many more such stories will be shared over the course of the coming days during my time here in Geneva.

This week I am here in Geneva taking part in the United Methodist delegation to the People’s Global Action on Migration, Development and Human Rights. The People’s Global Action (PGA) is a low-level, self-organized collective of activists, NGOs, and religious organizations working on issues of migrants’ rights and recognition. The meeting of the PGA is being held concurrently with the Civil Society Days, a gathering for NGOs and academics working on issues of migration, as well as the private sector. Both of these more grassroots level meetings have taken place on an annual basis since 2006 in response to the meeting of the Global Forum on Migration and Development (GFMD), which will once again meet later on this week here in Geneva. The GFMD is the only inter-governmental forum on migration and serves as a private process, which is completely independent from the United Nations (UN). Unlike the security focus of the GFMD, the Civil Society Days and the PGA seek to bring a focus on human rights and human dignity into the center of the discussion and dialogue on migration.

During my first day here at the forum, I remained uncertain of my role here as one member of the United Methodist delegation thrown into the meeting of an organization and a movement to which I previously had neither ties nor active experience. I couldn’t seem to shake the doubt in my mind and the lingering request for honesty and reality – will the conversations we have, the emotions that are exposed, the things we learn, the people who we meet, and the stories we share actually make a difference?

By flying people from around the world to Geneva and putting us up in hotels and feeding us overpriced Swiss food change the lives of a single child with migrant parents? Or prevent the deportment of an undocumented person?

During the past two days I have, however, grasped a thread of hope that the networks which are being built, the discussions being held, and the presence of each individual and delegation here does in fact present the possibility to change the reality of migration in today’s global world. Since 2006 the People’s Global Action and Civil Society Days has, in fact, already helped to bring human rights more into the focus of the Global Forum on Migration and Development; this grassroots level meeting has worked to influence policy, including the Domestic Worker’s Convention passed in June of this year. Inshallah, our presence here might also have such outcomes – not only at the international level, but also for the average migrant, the mother working to earn a living for her family, the father awaiting deportment in a detention center, and the child seeking justice, recognition, and simply love as a child in a strange land.

Leaving the Garden to God

I like children, I really do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have spent two summers in high school as a lifeguard at a family apartment complex, or three summers in college as a babysitter. And it doesn't even have to be a paid-gig for me to enjoy spending time with these miniature people; whether volunteering with our church youth group, playing with my nephew, or simply befriending children whom I meet in random everyday situations, I find that the time I spend with children and youth is some of the most fulfilling and blessed time that I have.

So in many ways, I have a pretty good deal working here in Berlin on a daily basis with children and youth. After volunteering here with many of the same children and youth last winter, I returned with the privileged ability to build on the trust, mutual respect, and honesty that I had already fostered in forming many of these relationships. And I love the work that I do, the people with whom I work, and the kids with whom I come into daily contact. But (and many of you likely foreshadowed this 'but'), while the work that my coworkers and I do in simply accompanying children and youth through the daily struggles of schoolwork, disputes and misunderstandings amongst friends, and struggles amidst families is fulfilling work, it can also be stressful and exhausting. Although our entire days are not spent in the company of these children, the four to six hours of the day when we are together are often chaotic and almost always involve struggling to be an attentive listener for one child, while also simultaneously imparting wisdom on multiplication to another child, reading a dictation aloud for a third, untwisting yarn from another child's crocheting project, and entertaining questions as to what 'always' means in German for another.

My work is fulfilling, yes, but also exhausting.

This past week the stress and daily grind of work, the complexities of living in a 'foreign' country, and the simple frustrations over time differences and the inability to pick up a phone and call a friend threatened to overwhelm me. In seeking guidance and a positive method with which to decompress, I turned to my coworkers, my family, and one of my favorite books, The Impossible Will Take a Little While: A Citizen's Guide to Hope in a Time of Fear (edited by Paul Rogat Loab), a collection of hopeful, justice-seeking, and reflective writings by political and religious activists and leaders.

I sought out the chapter entitled, "Standing Up for Children," by Marian Wright Edelman, President and Founder of the Children's Defense Fund, and consumed Edelman's suggestions of how to reorder American priorities for our children's and nation's sake. Although written within an American contextual framework, these reflections have nevertheless been a balm for me as I work to stand up against the injustices faced by children and those working to provide them hope for the future right here in Berlin, while also working to care for myself in the face of this work's accompanying emotional baggage.

In the words of Edelman, we must remember to:

"Believe we can save all of our children and then do it."

"Have faith and act without ceasing."

"Don't be intimidated or silenced by budget experts or political spin masters."

"Be strong and courageous and leave the results to God."

"Trust and serve God and recognize that every single one of us can make a difference."

"Assign ourselves right now to be a voice for justice for children in these scary and turbulent times of war and terrorism and greed and economic uncertainty."

"Never give up."

"Recognize and honor the sacredness of each and every child."

"Organize, mobilize, and hold our leaders accountable."

These words have helped me to recontextualize the important call to action behind the work that we do. While I am called to stand and hold the hands of the children with whom I work and to also hold societal leaders accountable for their actions and value of our children, I must above all have faith that the results of the situation, the results from the grind of any regular day's works, and the results for the future of each of the children and youth with whom we come into contact remain in God's hands.

As Edelman's inclusion of the following quote by Henry David Thoreau instructs:

"Plant the seed of hope and caring and leave the garden to God."