Posts Tagged ‘Sisters’
Tracking down Generose w/ Nick Kristof
Had the best evening with Nick Kristof, tracking down my dear sister Generose in her little home on the outskirts of Bukavu, trekking through deep mud in the dark to her little house for long conversation under tin roof pounding with rain, lit by headlamps. A major life moment.
Heading out this morning to find the baby Lisa, named after me. Two Lisa’s!
Dear “Kelly”: An unsent apology
Dear “Kelly”,
When I sat down to write my book about the journey into Congo, I started with a list- everything I did not want to include in the book. The list was long- the secrets that could cost lives, the painful breakdown of my relationship with “Ted” over Congo work, the awkward collaboration with my sometimes-crazy mother, the romantic escape to Zanzibar with (gasp!) a man I met on the terrace at the Orchid Safari Club, but mostly my embarrassing ego and grandiosity and epic (but inevitable) missteps along the way. You were on the list.
In early drafts, I tried to skim over the unspoken tension of our supposedly “joint” trip in an effort to be fair and tasteful, but editors called me out. In fact, 90% of that do-not-include list ended up in the book. Nothing trumps an honest, emotionally transparent story – except life-threatening safety issues. (It’s Congo. What can I say?)
After getting notes from yet another editor saying I needed to flesh you out and tell the whole story, I sat at my desk on Vashon Island, overlooking the Puget Sound and Olympic Mountains range beyond, squirming, thinking “I don’t want to write this.”
Then I re-read some of your post Congo notes and blogs, and caught the not-so-subtle jabs. Obviously, the tension was pronounced and mutual.
I spilled it. The walk under the Capitol Building in DC, when you called my work “just pity.” The weirdly indirect manor you let me know- on our first day in Congo- it would not be a joint trip at all. (Basically doubling the cost of my trip!) The mazungu girl-fight on the ride home from Baraka. How you left me scrambling to explain to your own sponsored sister why you would travel all the way from America to Congo, but could not make the time to meet her.
Yep, it pissed me off. And I wrote it all. The book is now off to the printers.
I still feel like a jerk. Worse. A hypocrite.
Because if there was one thing I learned from you, and especially your long silence following the trip, it was that nothing is more damaging to a movement than criticizing fellow activists who are giving it their best effort. However imperfect, perhaps buoyed with ego and grandiosity, maybe saying and doing the wrong things, our job is to show up. To say something. To take a step. The rest we can figure out as we go.
I don’t expect you to like the way you are represented in the book, or even understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t, and for that I am so sorry. But I do want you to know this: whatever judgment or frustration I express in the book, absolutely none of it trumps my profound respect for the fact that you showed up for Congo. You have played a critical early role in building a lasting movement, the reverberations of this journey, our honesty about our mutual shortcomings and missteps, we can’t ever know. But I know this for sure: By showing up, you have changed the future of Congo and by extension the face of humanity.
Well done, lady. Well done.
With deepest gratitude,
Lisa
A question from Cody, age 17: What is the role for men in a movement called “Women for Women”?
Dear Lisa,
My mom and I have applied to sponsor one woman in the Congo after we had seen several shows. I am 17 , live with my single mom and I am going to college. I recently had a ‘celebration lunch’ with my mom for passing all my first mid-tems for this year. After seeing Oprah’s show again the other day we decided to take that money we normally use to treat ourselves out to lunch or dinner and sponsor one woman. My mom and I live on only $1400 a month. Below the poverty line for many. We have a car that has almost 275K miles on it. We are living in a friend’s house right now because we can’t find a rental we can afford. BUT, we have a home, a full cupboard, a tank full of gas to get to school, a cell phone and two computers. When we think we are broke at the end of the month and think things are tough they really aren’t. We know that on the 1st of the month we will have money. We know that we can get a loan for school books. We know that there are programs to help us if we really didn’t have food. Really, we have a lot.
My mom was most moved to do something when she saw that you actually met the woman that ‘Women for Women’ is helping. You always wonder if the money is really going to help people. You always wonder if your money is really doing good. Seeing those women with their letters from their ’sisters’ was very touching.
I have another male friend that plays music with me. Today we told him that we had chosen to sponsor a woman. After looking at the site he decided he wants to too. But what is the role of men in ‘women for women.’. For me and my mother we are doing it as a family decision and project but what about for my friend?
Thank you for your reply,
Cody
Dear Cody,
I am so moved by your note, and so proud of you, your mom, and your musician buddy!!! What a beautiful family you have, what a wonderful act. I am so inspired!!!
In terms of your friend, we welcome and celebrate men’s involvement! Men can sponsor women in Congo, too! Men also participate in Run for Congo Women all the time. I think its amazing- and critical- for young men to stand up against violence against women. Bravo to you and your buddy!
With my deepest gratitude,
Lisa
