Monday, March 2, 2015

We are Village People

On Saturday, Henry and Lucy received their “Black belt recommended” for tai kwon do. That means that they actually get to wear a black belt and work to keep it over the next 6 months or so. So, it is not a “real,” their-name-sewn-on-in red-and-a-single-stripe black belt…yet. Even so, we took pictures and posted it all online. Their very first tai kwon do instructor (Ezekiel Delfino…“Seky” to us. “Mr. Delfino” to the kids.) came to cheer for them and took pictures, too…And posted them, too. Within hours, there were hundreds of “likes” and “way to go’s” and “AWESOMES!” from people we knew and people we didn’t know at all! People from Argentina (where Seky is from), whom we have never met (and likely never will) and whose language we do not speak posted comments to Seky’s photos (on which we were “tagged”), congratulating our kids and encouraging them to continue to work hard. Before she tied their belts on, their current instructor – Ms. Granieri – asked them if they were ready for the real journey to black belt. They said, “Yes ma’am.” “Good…because I believe you can do it.”

 

It takes a village.

 

I don’t remember exactly how long ago…maybe 6 months – maybe longer…I was sitting in a hospital waiting room with Carrie. Her son had had a minor procedure, but had an unknown latex allergy. His throat closed and we didn’t know whether he would survive (he has). Carrie is the nearly 80 year-old matriarch of a very large African American family, as well as the matriarch of the subsidized housing complex near our church (although she has been unceremoniously temporarily displaced from her apartment…too long a story for this blog). In many ways, Carrie’s family fits every stereotype of an African American family living in subsidized housing. I can never remember how many sons she has – but one or two have been killed and all have been in jail or prison. In her terribly over-cramped apartment, you will find children, grand-children, great grand-children, nieces, nephews and neighbors. She hosts “back-porch ministries” where she gives food to her neighbors from her back porch (different churches and companies give her their “day-olds.” Thank you Trader Joes). Some while after literally escaping from an abusive husband, she was instrumental in the start-up of Samaritan’s House (a house where homeless folks can go after they’ve been hospitalized…a need I had never considered. If you are homeless and have surgery, where do you go when you are discharged? Back under the bridge? Ahhh…all the things I take for granted.), and active in civil rights issues in the Charlotte area and beyond.

I asked her how she overcame the obstacles that surrounded her.

She said, “My auntie…”

“My auntie believed in me and cheered for me and told me that I could do great things…important things…things that would change the lives of others.”

“My auntie was the only person who told me those things…But she told me...every time she saw me. Everyone else either thought I wouldn’t amount to anything, or assumed I didn’t need to hear it.”

“My auntie believed in me and told me so.”

 

My children have people all around the world cheering them on.

Carrie had one.

Villages come in all shapes and sizes.

 

Never imagine your encouraging word doesn’t matter. It could change lives who will change lives who will change lives.