The Resilient Self

I have a friend who is a resilient survivor. I didn’t know the specific title for her until reading The Resilient Self: How Survivors of Troubled Families Rise Above Adversity by Steven and Sybil Wolin. Up until then, I just called her strong. My friend was adopted from Korea when she was a baby and unbeknownst to the adoption agency, her mother who adopted her was a manic depressive. Her father was having an affair and was an absentee. Throughout her childhood, my friend struggled with not only being of a different ethnic background then most kids in school, but also being adopted and having troubled parents. For a while, this led to her abuse of alcohol and promiscuity, until she finally got pregnant, had the baby and settled down. Although unplanned, the pregnancy was probably the best thing to happen to her, as it caused her to focus on her life and starting a family away from the problems of her parents.

On one memorable occasion, my friend’s mother was in a manic state. For manic depressives (also known as bipolar), they go through extreme lows, where they are super depressed and can barely talk or get out of bed to extreme highs, where they act crazy, go on spending sprees and talk a mile a minute. So on this day, my friend’s mom was feeling manic. She had recently separated from her cheating husband of almost 25 years and was lost as how to go on with her life. After being depressed for weeks, she got the urge to just leave everything behind. So she packed a suitcase, put on her best Sunday outfit and started driving. She got to Brooklyn, New York, where her car broke down. When the police arrived, she was in hysterics- screaming, crying, stripping off her clothes. She had broken. They took her to a hospital and my friend had to miss class to pick her up. She was taken to a mental ward, where she was hospitalized for a month and then moved to outpatient care. This was the third time in her life that she was hospitalized for her disease. Soon after this incident, my friend filed bankruptcy and also found out she was pregnant. Good times.

But even after all this happened, my friend still got up in the morning. She still went to work, where she was promoted into a manager position. She had a beautiful baby girl and maintains a positive attitude. You would never know that she went through all of this horrible stuff not so long ago. And that’s what makes her a resilient survivor.

Resiliency is “the capacity to rebound from hardship inflicted early in life” (page vii). This is the subject of The Resilient Self, as the authors researched how and why children of troubled homes are able to overcome the challenges they faced- whether it was abuse, neglect, or disease. Often, these children grow up to be completely productive and normal citizens, who possess none of the traits their parents had. Instead of living in fear or depression from all the things that occurred to them, these children will work extremely hard to make sure they’re the opposite of their parents. This means becoming loving parents, graduating from school, being active volunteers in the community or maintaining meaningful friendships- all things their parents could never do. But in order to become successful, they have to work hard at things most people from normal families take for granted.

The most important thing for survivors to do is to never label themselves as “victims” or “damaged.” This is a dangerous rut that can be easy to fall into. Sympathy and pity are enchanting emotions to get from someone and it’s easy to get addicted to being the victim. But by playing the victim, you ensure that you never rise above the problem and you never work it out. People who refuse to succumb to these feelings are the ones who are constantly looking for challenges and ways to improve themselves. They have healthy relationships and get the most out of life. In order to move out of the victim state-of-mind, resilient survivors may use the Challenge Model, invented by the authors.

The Challenge Model consists of seven resiliencies that form a protective layer around the self (page 20). The more of these resiliencies a person possess, the more likely they are to rise above the adversity they face in the home. These seven resiliencies are Insight, Independence, Relationships, Initiative, Humor, Creativity and Morality. By realizing which of these a person possesses, they will be able to leave their troubled parents and past behind, reject the distorted self-image their parents may have given them and see the positive forces in their lives that have helped them become the person they are.

Insight (in regards to survivor resiliency) is the ability to sense that things are untrustworthy and wrong in the home (page 67). When a child possesses insight, they become alert to danger and begin to notice when their parents are in a mood where they could attack or harm them. In turn, they can teach their younger siblings to become aware of these indicators in their parents behavior, helping save them from verbal and physical abuse. They begin to ask themselves questions about why their parents might be doing the things they are and they look to the outside world to find out if this is normal. After the child sees how loving and caring families act, they learn that their parent has a problem and how to avoid being caught in the wrath of it. They gain the ability to organize, confirm and label the impressions of their parents (page 77). They sense that their parents are not to be trusted and they begin to distance themselves.

Which leads to Independence. In troubled families, a child begins to show their resiliency and independence by separating themselves or straying away from painful situations (page 88). Once they achieve this separateness, they can look at their families from a distance and relate to them in a way they choose, instead of being caught up in the mess and drama. In a lot of children that grow up with abusive parents, independence can be a hard thing to come by. Parents will often stifle or hold them back from leaving. Also, the child may have such a strong desire to “fix” their parents or win their attention that they will put their own wishes and dreams aside to appease them. Successful survivors will find a balance between these feelings and will stop looking to their parents for approval. “Flight alone is not an answer to the survivor’s painful dilemma of gaining independence” (page 103). Once a person has obtained independence from a bad situation, they can begin to make relationships that do not harbor on ill will and abuse.

Relationships are intimate and fulfilling ties to other people (page 111). When a resilient child does not get the love and attention they need from their own parents, they will begin to seek it out from other people. The successful survivor will find someone who can act as a positive replacement of a parent. Many projects aimed at fostering resilience, especially in inner-city children, offer the services of adult mentors. But in order for a relationship to be meaningful, the adult cannot look at the child as a person in need of rescue. This mentality makes the child out to be a victim. In a good relationship, there is an equality between both parties. The child is not “saved” but has connected with someone in an attempt to reach out and endear themselves. A resilient child who comes from a family lacking in love and affirmation will make a family of their own- whether it is through marriage, a community organization or a group of people like them.

Initiative is “the determination to assert yourself and master your environment” (page 136). Resilient survivors will find something that interests them and latch on to it, using it as an escape from the chaos of their home. When children are young, they will find a hobby that takes their time and allows them to focus on something positive. As they grow older, they begin working so that they can save up money and move away from home. Once they are adults, they find a career or project that allows them to grow positively. Instead of succumbing to the lifestyle of their troubled parents, resilient children want more in life and they know that in order to get that, they must have a skill or something that they enjoy spending time on. As they pursue their goals, it helps them distance themselves from their family and make a life for themselves, while discovering their creativity.

Creativity and humor go hand in hand in the Challenge Model. They are “safe harbors of the imagination where you can take refuge and rearrange the details of your life to your own pleasing” (page 163). Sometimes children of troubled homes need to step out of reality once and a while and remember what it’s like to be a kid. By putting all that negative energy they’ve been experiencing in the home into something fun and positive, it allows them to distance themselves and laugh at the situation. Laughter is the best medicine, some say. Resilience is “the will to accept the discipline of an art form in order to shape your pain into something else” (page 175). To be able to produce something beautiful out of an ugly situation is proof of the strength of resilient survivors.

Morality, the final resilience of survivors, is the wish of your conscience for a good personal life grown large and inclusive (page 184). Children of bad homes learn what is right and wrong early in life, from seeing their parents hurt the ones they are supposed to love. As they grow into adults, they promise to themselves that they will never treat other people that badly and devote their time to helping others. Having a good moral is what will take the survivor into the future and help to improve the world. Once they finally achieve this step, they have truly put the past behind them and have accomplished a successful life of their own. Knowing there is a reason to live and to want to help other people find that reason as well, helps the survivor realize their place in life. They have triumphed over their bleak past and can move on to bigger and better things. While not forgetting what they have gone through, they can use those experiences to relate to people in a better and more holistic way.

Understanding what helps people overcome adversity is a major necessity in working with at-risk populations. In our ministry as youth and community developers, we must know the signs of abuse and also know the signs of accomplishment. By using the lessons taught in The Resilient Self, we can better relate to and admire what certain people have had to overcome in life. If we ourselves have also had to overcome adversity, we can take pride in how our lives turned out and, if there are still things to work on, we can focus on those directly. I enjoyed all the stories of survivors in the book and will be able to now take those into practice in the real world.

Looking Like the Enemy

It is hard to imagine what it would be like to be imprisoned, no matter where the location or how short the period of time. But to imagine being imprisoned for no apparent crime or reason, only on the basis of your ethnic makeup, is nearly impossible. But the impossible happened to over 100,000 Japanese-Americans during World War II and it took years for them to break their silence and come clean about what they experienced in various internment camps around the country. Author Mary Matsuda Gruenewald was a teenager when her family of four was forced to leave their comfortable home on Vashon Island, Washington and move into a prison camp. Just how long they were to stay there, no one knew. And as the days turned into years, optimism grew dim and spirits began to dwindle, but the Matsuda family tried to keep hope alive. Looking Like the Enemy tells their story and sheds light on an American history that has long been swept under the rug.

Although Japanese on the outside, the Matsuda family lived and worked for the American dream like everyone else in their small, farming town. Both of Mary’s parents were born in Japan but had their children in America, making Mary and her brother Yoneichi American citizens. They ran a small fruit farm, making a decent living which allowed them to live comfortably in a cozy home and attend a local Methodist church and public school. Mary writes that she never felt any different than her classmates and that there were only a couple of instances where racial prejudice showed its ugly face. She felt completely American, although she honored her Japanese heritage by speaking the language at home and eating the food her mother prepared. Never was there a time when she thought she could be singled out by her own government for having Asian features and in fact, her family was more pro-American and trusting of those in power than many people are today.

All this changed when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor and the United States went to war. The government ruled that all people with Japanese ancestry, American citizen or not, should be rounded up and placed into internment camps so that they could be kept under a watchful eye. The fear was that these Japanese-Americans could still harbor loyalties to Japan’s government and be plotting attacks on American soil. Mary and her family were apprehensive about what would happen to them, their farm and their home but still believed that the government would figure out that they were loyal to the US alone. But it was still with great sadness that they packed up few belongings and made the uncomfortable train ride to Pinedale Assembly Center, the first internment camp of many that they would call “home”.

The camps were made of rows and rows of rugged barracks set on bleak, barren land. Each family was assigned a small living space, usually of 20 x 20 feet that they sometimes had to share with another family or couple. There was no privacy and voices carried throughout the entire length of the barrack. The bathrooms were primitive and the food was tasteless and left much to be desired. Basically, there was no room for creativity, comfort or pleasure and the internees quickly discovered that restlessness and boredom would take over.

Japanese culture stresses serenity and passiveness, with deep roots in private strength and not showing visible emotion. While Mary’s parents were very traditional in their Japanese customs, Mary was Americanized and was also somewhat sensitive, at least in the beginning. As the future became more and more uncertain for her, she sunk into depression and withdrew from social interaction. She writes that it was hard for her to make friends and remember life on the outside. In fact, she actually began to resent her fellow Japanese campers because she did not like being grouped with “non-Americans”. She was embarrassed of the black hair, facial features and skin color that made them different from the Americans who were not suspected as enemies in the war. She had long identified herself as an American so that to now be told that she was just Japanese put her into an identity crisis.

The most striking and heartbreaking part of Mary’s story was when the internees were allowed to apply for transfer into mid-Western states or to the US military. They were given a questionnaire that asked them about their loyalties and qualifications to join the Army. The very government that had imprisoned them in camps because of their ancestry was now asking where their allegiance lay! This caused a great deal of angst and disruption among the internees because to pledge loyalty to the government would make it seem like what had happened to them was okay. To say they did not want to join the military would make them seem disloyal and they would remain imprisoned for longer. It was a double edged sword. In the end, Mary’s family chose to pick the “loyal” box and Yoneichi drew his draft number. He was now going to risk his life for the country that had decided he was not an equal citizen.

As Mary matured throughout her experience in the camps, she began to see the impact her mother and father’s beliefs and strengths had on her. They remained strong and positive through the entire imprisonment at camp and although they worried, they did not show any weaknesses on the surface. The family unit was the most important structure to them and keeping the family together and safe was the essence of their survival. Unfortunately, this did not apply to all Japanese families in the internment camps. Westernization, fear, anger and boredom all threatened to ruin the traditional Japanese family. Young people grew restless and began to stir up trouble for something to do. Families also stopped eating together- a tradition that was set in stone before the imprisonments. Mary, however, chose a different path. She began working as a nurse in the camp infirmary and applied to nursing school outside of the camp, through the Army Nurse Corps. For the first time since the start of the war (and in her life), she would be away from her family.

With Yoneichi overseas fighting and Mary in nursing school, the Matsuda parents were left without their children for the first time in their lives. Mary’s mother went to work on a farm and her father passed the time in camp. As news of the ending of the war began to trickle into the camps, people tried to figure out where they would go once they were set free. A lot of people had lost their homes, businesses and farms and had no where to go. Racial prejudice against Japanese on the West Coast was rampant and many were hesitant to return, but knew no other homes. Mary struggled to figure out how to regain ownership of the family fruit farm and how their debts would be paid off once they returned- if anything was left to return to.

The Matsuda family fared better than many Japanese-American families during World War II. Their farm, though a little worse for the wear, was still intact and they were able to salvage their business. Yoneichi never talked about his experiences fighting overseas and Mary never had to serve her time in the Army. But the scarring still occurred. Mary said that she would never feel 100% American again and that it would take years to come to term with the emotions and hurt she had sustained from the discrimination of the US government. A Supreme Court ruling stated that racial discrimination was okay during times of war, which means that something like the internment camps could happen again during our time. I have often wondered if the threat was big enough, would the government still detain citizens because of their genetic background? Or would Americans look at history and protest such a thing? I would hope so but one can never be sure. The majority always rules and during times of war, the majority looks out for their own interests.

It is important to take lessons from the Japanese-American internment camps to make sure they never happen again. This “quiet race” allowed the government to get away with what they did for too long and it took years for any written accounts to come to light. Just because people do not complain about what happened to them does not mean they are not affected. Understanding the mistakes that the US government has made is valuable because it will help prevent future occurrences. No one is safe from prejudice and no excuse justifies the physical imprisonment and mental damage that the Japanese-American citizens faced during this time. Reconciliation also applies to this group of people for the mistakes and injustices they had to deal with and kept quiet for so long.

Shantung Compound- A Lesson in Human Nature

It is during times of stress and insecurity that the true colors of human nature come out and, in most people, these colors tend to darken as time goes by. As history has shown us, people will either rise to the challenge of an uncertain situation or will crumble and fall into chaos. The people who were held at an internment camp in China by the Japanese during World War II became unknowing players in a large scale social experiment that in the end, showed valuable lessons in character, survival and human instinct. Langdon Gilkey’s memoir, Shantung Compound: The Story of Men and Women Under Pressure, takes a philosophical and theological look at how people imprisoned in the camp reacted to the new life set up around them and why they did things that in normal, every day life would not have been accepted.

In 1943, at the start of the Second World War, all foreign nationals living in China were told they had to leave the country or move into an internment camp so that they could be kept under a watchful eye. These people were mostly Westerners who had made their homes and businesses in China for many years and saw no reason to leave. Even if they spoke English or looked American, they knew no other home but China. But, in a World War, the color of your skin and the country of your passport mean more than where you’ve been living for the past decade and Japan did not want to risk having potential enemies living right under their nose. So these wealthy business owners, professors, doctors, lawyers and everyone in between, were rounded up and marched into Shantung Compound, a 100 x 150 square foot yard, former missionary station that had been left to demise and taken over by the army. As these upper and middle class society members were lead into their new homes, which would consist of dormitory living for the singles and 9 x 4 foot rooms for the families, they soon realized that who they were on the outside now meant nothing. A new society was to be built and it would require the work of everyone involved, if they wanted life to seem as normal as it could be.

While the Japanese soldiers guarding the compound were not cruel or abusive, they also did not do much to improve the situation. Food and basic means of survival were provided, albeit not in the best conditions. But the Westerners were put in charge of all things concerning the operation of the camp- from housing, food services, cleaning, education and health care and working from scratch meant that creativity was needed. In the beginning, they seemed to rise to the challenge. Committees were formed and positions of authority were created. People were eager to show of their strengths and skills and contribute during this time of crisis. Curiosity and even excitement were the main emotions prisoners experienced during their first weeks at the camp. For the middle class housewife and tobacco plant manager, this was the experience of a lifetime.

But as people got settled into the ways of internment life, the original politeness and helpfulness faded and it was down to business. Daily activities were dull and mind-numbing. Campers soon figured out which jobs were ideal and which left a lot to be desired. As the days grew longer and the war’s end drew no closer, worries about food supplies and survival instincts kicked in. Since there was no police force, the norms of society were left by the wayside and stealing food and supplies became common. Even as rations dwindled and people were left hungry at night, sharing was one of the toughest concepts for people to comprehend. When someone was suspected of stealing, a trial was held but to the perpetrator’s delight, no one could really enforce punishment. The best that leaders could do was hope that the disapproval of the society as a whole would lead the criminal into shame and bring them to repent. As discovered, some people simply do not care what other people think of them, good or bad. There were also housing situations in which someone would be asked to move for the greater good of someone else in need, but would often be met with scorn and indifference. Space was precious and giving up the little “home” one had in a place like this was asking too much of some people. Even Christian families were shown to put their own needs before others. In times like this, they believed it was every man for himself.

Not everybody in the camp was selfish and uncompromising. There were several instances of people sacrificing what they had in order to help someone else. But this was rarer than you would think. Most of life was very boring and scheduled. As the months dragged on, people had daily tasks and burdens that they had to complete in order to keep the camp from falling into social disarray. In order to make life seem as “normal” as possible, jobs were taken and new skills were learnt. Entertainment activities were created and relationships and friendships were formed. In a camp with over 2,000 people in such a small area, everybody grew to know everybody and their business. A lack of space and privacy meant one could not isolate himself for long. For the introvert, this could mean complete hell. For the extrovert, it was a lesson in human nature and social formations. For our author, a philosophy professor, it was the ultimate experiment and research on behavioral norms.

Shantung Compound is filled with fascinating stories and observations on what happens when seemingly normal and stable people are put together in a small space over a long period of time. Some of it makes you proud and some of it makes you cringe. But most of all, it makes you wonder how you would act if put in a situation like it. Like the book Lord of the Flies, people will either show great character or evil intentions. Some people will rise to be leaders and some will get lost in the shuffle.

Understandably, when the prisoners were finally released at the end of the War, it took a while to get over everything they had been through. True, they had not been tortured or even starved. When supplies started dwindling, fears grew stronger but they had produced a society that could overcome such obstacles but still left much to be desired. In all essences, they were a communist society, but there were always people looking to increase their own wealth and stability- either through stealing or on the black market. And even though they survived, no one could say they were happy with the system they had built.

In the end, the prisoners of Shantung Compound were set free and went back into the world, either completely changed or bitterly passive. But no one could say that the experience had no effect on them. One could look back at the time they spent in the camp as a successful learning lesson in which they made themselves and others proud or they could try to forget about the primal instincts that made them choose their own self over the needs of another. In any case, this story and other instances of prison societies, utopian communities and communist countries prove again and again that people, when put in uncertain and dismal conditions will most definitely surprise you, whether it is for good or bad.

In our studies, we can use the lessons learned from Shantung Compound when researching poor neighborhood communities, refugee camps and prison societies. It doesn’t matter what decade or century the problem is taking place in – people have been the way they are since the beginning of time and sin is in all of us. It is up to the people who are aware of their sin to become leaders and try to develop the rest of the population in putting their actions into something positive that helps their neighbors around them. A lot can be wrong with a society, but sometimes it only takes one person to make a difference.

Brothers and Keepers

For me, October has been filled with prison stories. First, there were the 2 seasons of the television show Prison Break that I caught up on. Then there was a documentary called Breaking Point on the Discovery Channel about the overcrowding of America’s prisons that I had to watch. And finally, reading the book Brothers and Keepers, by John Edward Wideman put a cap on my education about the prison system. I can’t say it was the cheeriest month of my life, but it was informative.

Prison isn’t exactly something that has been a big part of my life. I’ve never been. No one in my family has either. My dad had a high school friend doing life in Graterford, but he stopped visiting him years ago. So prison was a place that I only read about in books or saw in movies. But reading Brothers and Keepers finally put a face on all the anonymous prisoners that have been so neatly kept away from me. And although I can’t say that I feel sorry for all people in prison (it really has to be looked at on a case by case study), I do agree that there are just some conditions that are inhumane, even for criminals, and that the justice system is seriously, seriously flawed.

Brothers and Keepers documents the points leading up to and following the arrest and imprisonment of author Wideman’s younger brother, Robby. On the surface, the book is about the judicial system, but underneath is really a story of brotherhood, poverty and the environment of black neighborhoods in the late 60s. Written in narrative form from the perspective of both brothers, Brothers sheds light on some of the darkest secrets about life in prison and the social injustices in place that promote the imprisonment of certain people- mostly young, black men like Robby. When this book was written in 1982, approximately 500 thousand Americans were in prison. Today, the number exceeds 2.2 million. But crime in major cities, they say, has gone down. So why are so many people behind bars? Is it the desire to keep the undesirables at bay, isolated from the rest of society? Are the criminals today that much more dangerous than ones from previous decades? Is it laziness on the part of the judicial system to want to keep people in prison rather than spend time rehabilitating them? The book takes a look at these questions but also spends time examining the roots of the problems facing prisoners and how they got to where they are.

John and Robby Wideman grew up in the neighborhood of Homewood in Pittsburgh. While John and his siblings excelled at school and stayed away from most of the bad influences in their increasingly impoverished neighborhood, Robby was the “rebel” in the family, always trying to find a get rich quick scheme to move up in life. Drugs played a large role in his demise, as he would steal to make money and buy drugs. For him, “normal was poverty, drugs, street crime, Vietnam or prison” (page 220).

On a night where Robby and two of his buddies were going to pull a sting, things went terribly wrong and ended with one of his friends shooting a white man. After the man died, the three friends went on the lam, hiding from authorities for three months across the country. When they were caught, the consequences were extreme- life in prison. Life in prison is almost the same as the death penalty, as “prison is an experience of death by inches, minutes, hours, days” (page 35). People that weren’t criminals when they arrived, people who had just made a mistake and got caught, leave with a PhD in Crime. When someone “comes out of the joint, they’re worse off than when he came in” (page 236).

Prisons have cut back (or eliminated entirely) education and vocational programs, so that while the prisoners are locked up, they have nothing to do but learn more bad stuff, become even angrier and leave half-crazed, only to go right back to the neighborhood where they got in trouble in the first place. Even if a prisoner becomes fully rehabilitated by his own means, it is likely that no one with the power to release them will ever find out because the system is so backlogged and the numbers are so against the possibility of a prisoner changing his ways.

Besides the obvious issue of the prison system being addressed, the book also focused on community and family relations. It was during the time of Robby’s arrest that urban neighborhood really began their decline. Pittsburgh, the setting of the story, was especially hit hard by the collapse of the steel industry. After the assassination of Dr. King and the riots, the neighborhood where Robby grew up changed dramatically and the typical mindset of a young man was to “get his without working too hard.” They had seen how the hard work of their parents had not paid off. This lead to finding more lucrative work, usually in the form of selling drugs or stealing. With institutional racism heavily in place, the chances of getting a unfairly harsh sentence were very real to minorities that got caught back then and still occurs today, even more so, as the numbers have shown us.

The most memorable parts of the book for me were when we were hearing the story through Robby’s voice. His dialect and his story that bounced all over the place were interesting, funny and heartbreaking at the same time. I admit that there were parts where John would be writing and I’d be ready to get back to Robby’s voice. As the book went on, Robby became a likeable character, more real and human, a person you hoped the best for. Unfortunately, at times John’s narrative would take me away from those feelings as he ranted on about the injustice of the system, never really holding his brother accountable for the crime he did commit or the seriousness of the other prisoner’s crimes. Whereas Robby was focused on bettering himself and his education throughout his sentence, John focused on the harshness of the situation and the unfairness of it all. Yes, anyone who looks into Robby’s case would surely find him rehabilitated and would release him back into society, but I found that John turned all the prisoners into victims, when many deserve the sentences they get. Instead of focusing so much on how bad the prisons are and the environments the prisoners live in, he should focus more on the prisoners who do want to get their lives in order and figure out a way to lobby for their rehabilitation and release. Instead, the book turns into a sort of therapeutic journal for John to write down his anger, embarrassment and sorrow for letting his brother’s life get so out of control and for not being there when he needed him most. To the reader, this gets sort of old after a while. Not enough facts, too much winding around in the story, taking tangents to talk about something else for a couple pages and then into another characters voice…. it’s hard to keep up.

The book did portray prison as a place that serves as a weapon instead of a tool and that a system is needed where those inside can eventually earn their way out, with the right attitude, skills or education and show of change. Someone like Robby should have been released years ago, kept in a parole program and then once he had proven to have changed, been able to go on with his life. Unfortunately, too many other people have messed up his chance to do this. Like so many other institutional settings, such as education, welfare, housing and prison, much work is needed to replace the governing forces that have held back positive changes for so long. The book, while insightful and powerful, does not accomplish the task of creating change within the prison system. It instead leaves that to the readers, in hopes that they may carry on the job.

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee... along with my respect for the founding of the American West

Remember that day when you realized that your parents, who you always looked up to and thought to be wise and all knowing, could do no wrong and were superhuman, were actually just as flawed and mistaken as everyone else? That your entire life was just a lie? Yeah. That’s how I began to feel after reading about all the terrible and inhumane things the founding fathers of the United States government did to the American Indians in the late 1800s. Great stories about how the West was won, the adventures and bravery of the frontiersman and the pursuit of the American dream were all just buffered tales of how greed and murder were used to obtain land and riches. Health, wealth and happiness were all found by nearly wiping out an indigenous population that had lived peacefully on American soil for centuries. The first-hand accounts of what was done to the Native Americans is the subject of an intensely harrowing book by Dee Brown, entitled Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.

As Columbus Day approaches, I am reminded that Christopher Columbus did not discover America. The United States as we know it today was inhabited by a diverse collection of native tribes, from the Northeast to the South to the Midwest. Cheyennes, Navahos, Sioux- all these people roamed free and lived off the land, which was sacred and pure to them. Then came the white man. The Native Americans were friendly to them, helping them survive the first cold winter and teaching them to plant corn. There was no reason for the Indians to fear them, for everyone was friendly and lived in peace. There was enough room for everybody. But then came even more white men and with them, war.

As millions of settlers moved to the United States, those in charge saw the value of certain lands- lands that were occupied by Indians. In order to claim this land as their own, they signed treaties and purchased the land, usually paying with worthless trinkets and a few bucks. The land that was once so fertile was used up and left to rot. As land became even more valuable, the Americans began to use force to take the Indian’s land. They demanded that the Indians move to reservations, areas of land that were useless and harsh- completely the opposite of what they would want to call home. Any Indian that did not comply would be considered an enemy of war and would be killed. Thousands of Indians went along with the move to the reservations, mostly because they still believed that they would one day be returned to their land and that most people were good at heart. They did not want to be considered at war with the Americans, whose size and artillery was much greater than their own.

But while thousands of Indians were starving, dying and losing their homes, a few tribes and their war chiefs refused to go to the reservations. They would try to make peace and if that did not succeed, they would have no choice but to defend their lands and themselves. Try they did but succeed, they did not. As they their numbers shrunk in size, the once mighty and proud Indian nations were now impoverished, weak and without a home to call their own. In today’s lingo, it was in every essence, genocide.

Now of course, white Americans “realize” what they did to the Indians. We apologized for it. We offered them cash settlements and casinos. We try to “honor” their heritage with museums and tourist traps. We claim 1/8th Native American ancestry even though we couldn’t tell you the tribe. The names of our rivers, towns and parks all have colorful Indian names- Conshohocken, Pontiac, Delaware, Red Bull. What pride we have! Meanwhile, the alcoholism rate in the Native American population is over 30% and the lands that are “reserved” for them are dry, brittle and incapable of flourishing. Everything that the Native American treasured in their lives, we took away from them and expected them to just deal with the American way.

It was difficult to get through this book. I knew there would be no happy endings. To see the photos of the Indian leaders was especially hard- what strong, proud eyes they once had and what a presence. As Major Edward W. Wynkopp, the commanding officer of Fort Lyon said after a long journey with a group of Cheyennes, “I felt myself in the presence of superior beings” (page 77). He was later discharged from his post because he was advocating for the Indians during a time when “the only good Indian is a dead Indian.”

Growing up, I vaguely remember learning something about the different tribes of Indians in America and I spent family vacations at Shawnee in the Pocono Mountains, which had numerous kitschy Indian tributes, but nothing really affected me until my trip to the Navaho Reservation in Window Rock, Arizona. As part of a youth missions trip with my church, we spent two weeks cleaning up various parts of the reservation and attended the Native American Youth Conference in Fort Lewis, Colorado. It was fascinating and sad at the same time. We spent a day cleaning up an old grave site that was trashed because the site was sacred to the Navahos and they would not walk on it. We found remnants of horse bones (they’re buried with their horses) and shrines to old chiefs.

Even though I wasn’t alive during the genocide of the Indians, I feel guilty just because of how much privilege I have in this country because of people like them who sacrificed and ended up with nothing. The distribution of wealth is one of the major problems in this country and many white people that I know would just say that they’re “blessed” with what they have. That it was God’s plan for the European Americans to take over the country so we could have what we have today. I don’t think it would have been God’s intention to wipe out an ethnic group that he created so that another group could prosper.

“Impossible to read but impossible to put down” is how one critic described Bury My Heart. I grew to be afraid as to what would be played out on the next page, as Indian leaders that I had come to respect and like were killed off or imprisoned one by one. It was extremely informative to hear accounts from the Indians who were there because I had never read anything like that. At the same time, it was extremely depressing to hear that many of the so-called Christian, founding fathers of this nation were as shallow, superficial, cruel and money-hungry as they were. Educators need to redesign the way they teach American history. How the West was won, I think not. How the West was stolen, more appropriate.

Take Me Down to Sandtown

As we drove down Fulton Avenue in inner city Baltimore, passing boarded up, burnt-out and abandoned houses one after the other, I began to wonder if this class trip to Sandtown was a joke being played on us. Surely this wasn’t the neighborhood serving as a leading model in the U.S. for urban transformation? It was rare to see two homes side by side, occupied by residents other than rats or cockroaches and the pothole littered road shook the school van as if we were off-roading in the Rockies. Then, up ahead, a glint of green- trees! Freshly planted trees and multi-colored houses with fresh paint and new mailboxes began popping up all around us. A Habitat For Humanity crew was hard at work, framing a row home. Across the street, New Song Urban Ministries’ headquarters stood out like a ray of hope in this once-forgotten neighborhood. We had arrived.

Sandtown, like many other African-American neighborhoods in large U.S. cities, has seen its share of misery. Once a vibrant, economically stable community for the working class, Sandtown suffered greatly from the flight of industry, small businesses and wealthier residents. After the riots following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and as segregation laws were lifted, those who could afford to leave, did and in their wake, collapsed the housing values of the neighborhood. Soon more homes were empty than occupied, left to the mercy of the elements. As more and more people became unemployed, crime rates rose, turning Sandtown into an untouchable neighborhood. Those who lived there were too poor to get out. And no one wanted to move in.

From there came the story of how Allen Tibbels and three other couples moved into the neighborhood and listened to the residents concerns, needs and cries. From this learning period grew New Song Community Church, then a Habitat for Humanity, followed by a public school for ages K through 8, a community arts center, a health clinic and a job placement agency. Though the work in Sandtown is far from completed, a solid foundation has been laid for the future of this community as they strive to get to where the neighborhood is fully functional and stable without the aid of charity. Through an assessment of this model, I will determine if enough indicators are in place to where Sandtown can thrive holistically.

Social Capital

As learnt throughout the residency, social capital is the most important thing needed for stability and growth. In Sandtown, a lot of New Song’s early success was due in part to the wealth of social capital held by the Tibbels and the other founding partners. Wealthy suburban churches, access to government funding and partnerships with local and nationwide community development organizations helped set the pace for the neighborhood’s first stage of transformation. As 20 years have gone by, the question that still remains is if the social capital has been transferred to the new co-executive directors, Patty and Antoine. As a lifelong resident of Sandtown, Antoine definitely has social capital within the community and has garnered tremendous respect from the residents. Patty has been with the organization for almost 10 years and has earned respect as well, but as a woman, a newer resident and of a different ethnic background, she still has miles to go in gaining social capital within the community. Outside of Sandtown, one would assume that since being under the guidance of the Tibbels, some of their social capital has transferred to Patty and Antoine. I cannot say this for sure. As members of CCDA and being part of one of the largest Habitats in the country, Patty and Antoine have surely met outsiders who will support them as new leaders. But as things are so uncertain these days, new leaders must constantly be cultivated from within the organization and from outside. That way, if something was to happen and Sandtown was suddenly without leadership, there will always be someone available to step up to the plate.

Empowerment

During our walk around the neighborhood, I had the opportunity to ask Patty some questions. One thing I was curious about was whether or not the presence of the Habitat workers and the sight of the newly remodeled houses had inspired other homeowners to spruce up their own homes. She said that yes, it had. One example was that of a back lot that had been used as a dumping ground by the neighborhood for years. Without the suggestion of New Song or any of its associates, a group of residents got together and decided to clean up the lot and turn it into a park. The area was cleaned out, new grass was planted and a gazebo with barbeque grills was installed. The residents were empowered by the sight of the new homes and the positive change to their neighborhood and were inspired to make their own space look nice, even without the aid of New Song.

Arts in Transformation

New Song’s Arts program has seen it’s up and downs lately, but in the past has been a great source of inspiration to the neighborhood residents and to those on the outside. An award-winning children’s choir has traveled around the country, singing songs about their Baltimore and bringing attention to the community’s needs. This choir offered kids a great way to artistically express their feelings and raise money through the sale of a CD they produced. Unfortunately, the sustainability of this program was proven to be weak as the choir director left the organization and the arts program was disintegrated. Just recently has the organization hired a new choir director and hopefully the program will take off again.

Affordable Housing

As one of the leading Habitat for Humanity projects in the country, New Song’s Sandtown habitat has seen the completion of over 230 homes thus far, with an additional 50 in progress. Patty told me on our walk that Habitat has actually purchased almost 100% of the abandoned housing in Sandtown and slowly but surely, each and every house will be redone and offered to residents as a mortgage with 0% interest. The average cost to build these homes is $50,000, thanks to the help of numerous volunteers and hands-on workers. And because of the transforming neighborhood, housing prices are rising again, as the average remodeled home now costs an attractive, but affordable $150,000. Access to ownership isn’t just for the most stable either- the first home was give to a single mother who earned only $8,000 a year, but not one Habitat home has been foreclosed. Candidates are selected on need basis, willingness to be part of the program and put in 330 hours of “sweat equity” and their ability to repay the loan. Mortgage payments are then used in the development of new homes, ensuring that the cycle of redevelopment continues.

Incarnational

The principles of John Perkins are alive and well in Sandtown. All directors must move into the community in which they work. This allows the residents to get to know them on a personal level, develop respect and appreciation for them and also shows their commitment to the organization. Antoine told us that the teachers at the school who do not live in the community have a more difficult time with the children, because the kids know that they won’t run into them on the streets after class. One struggle for the leaders is that they “always have to be on,” meaning that they are almost always working, even when going to the grocery store or walking down the street. The residents connect them to their work, which for the most part is a positive thing but can get very tiring. This could easily lead to burnout if the leaders are not careful with allotting enough time to rejuvenate.

Evangelism

The church was the first thing that was brought into Sandtown and the beliefs and principles of New Song are apparent in every aspect of their work. Even if they are not opening proclaiming their beliefs, their unconditional love, support and fulfillment of God’s Word towards the residents of Sandtown are shown in their commitment to economic development, education, worship and quality of life. Antoine’s testimony is shared with every visiting group and his neighbors and friends have seen his life changed through accepting Christ. New Song’s leaders have been called, as we all are, to bring about social change and justice to those in need and are working hard to fulfill this call.

Leadership Development/Succession Planning

These two concepts really go hand in hand in the development of Sandtown and New Song Urban Ministries. Many of the executive positions in the organization are now filled by residents of the community, with more leaders and employees being trained all the time. After 20 years as Executive Director, founder Allen Tibbel succeeded his position to Patty and Antoine, but he remains at Habitat to give them guidance and help if needed. Eventually it will be Patty and Antoine developing leaders under them, to ensure the stream of leaders never runs dry. Habitat for Humanity hires locals and trains them to become electricians, carpenters and plumbers, which helps them pursue jobs outside of the reconstruction of Sandtown homes.

There are so many more elements to the transformation of Sandtown. Part of the reason New Song is so successful is because it incorporates so many different aspects of holistic transformation. Social, economic, spiritual, physical and emotional needs are all met one way or the other through New Song’s numerous ministries. Even if one program is stalled or taken away, the rest of the organization will remain in tact. It would take an earthquake to undo all the work that has been done in Sandtown.

A final question is if this urban model for social transformation is replicable. I would answer that yes, there can be many Sandtowns around the country, but some specific factors must be in place for it to work out as well as it has for New Song. First, the neighborhood itself, although desperately poor and in crisis, must have a certain community-wide spirit about it. Even though Sandtown went through so much hardship, they weren’t as fragmented as they could have been. People still knew each other. Neighbors still cared for one another. Strangers were noticed right away. In order for a program to successfully work, the community must already be intact in an emotional/spiritual way, if not physically. A fragmented community will be extremely hard to bring together to work for the common good. Second, a great amount of respect must be brought from the community developers. Time must be spent listening to the residents and learning about what their needs are before any programs are put into place. The Tibbels spent two years just getting to know their neighbors and earning the love and respect that they now have so much of. Third, the community must not go at it alone. Outside support is needed, either financially, emotionally, through prayer, partnerships or group visits. The community must feel as if there are people willing to help on the outside, who value their streets and homes just as much as their own residents do. If all of these aspects are in place, then any crisis or problem can be dealt with, handled appropriately and learned from in order to make the next project go even better. Sandtown is well on its way to proving to doubters that an untouchable and forgotten neighborhood can still be full of treasures, if only given a chance.