Showing posts with label belief. Show all posts
We all need to be diligent advocates
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Louise Zanré, Director of JRS UK, shares her vision for a better world and invites us to join advocacy efforts alongside refugees to make the case for their dignity
Advocacy is one of the three parts of the JRS mission. We often spend a lot more time on accompaniment and service - I suspect because many of us attracted to working for JRS are what I think of as being at heart "people persons". We derive energy and inspiration from being present both with and two the people we accompany. We build relationships and endeavour to offer and to receive hope, dignity and justice through those relationships. And we often do not make enough of the advocacy opportunities we have had and the fact that peoples' lives are changed as a result.
Being a "people person" myself I get a great deal of pleasure from meeting new people and having the opportunity of explaining to them a little about the reality of the lives of the people we accompany, whether those left destitute by the asylum system in the UK or those who have been detained, and the work of JRS. As a person of faith and conviction I base much of that message I share on the values underpinning the mission of JRS. I dream of a new world of dignity and justice, where everyone is treated with equality and compassion. I hope that, when I speak to groups, or at events; when I have meetings with civil servants, politicians; when I attend network meetings of partner organisations; when I write articles, that I am able to speak with truth, compassion and with passion and that the people I address or meet with are better equipped to conceive of and to want to work towards that new world.
It is a big ask - of myself and of those listening - and I am sure that I am not always as effective as I might be. It is also a big ask as we are up against so much. There are too many myths about refugees and asylum seekers. The world is far from perfect and sometimes the issues we are confronted with can seem to be insurmountable. It is difficult to know what response to make to the fact that so many people are being forced to risk dangerous journeys to get to Europe; to the fears that so many people have over competition for resources, jobs, housing or health care provision.
However it is especially at this time when things can seem to be so dark and depressing that it is of particular importance that we do try our best to counter a prevailing message of blame, of not being able to be generous, of not being able to participate together in society.
A new immigration bill was announced recently in the Queen's speech. Unsurprisingly, the highlights make for pretty depressing reading - landlords having to check immigration status of prospective tenants to determine if they can legally rent housing to them, appeal rights only being permissible in immigration cases after deportation, making it more difficult for immigrants to get bank accounts, making money earned from illegal working the proceeds of criminal activity and therefore able to be confiscated, to name a very few. On top of existing restrictions they make the UK a very unwelcoming place indeed.
In the face of this we all need to be diligent advocates. We will be sharing with you campaigns against particular measures - whether to stop indefinite detention; to try and convince our government to resettle more refugees; or to lobby MPs about the immigration bill. But we will also be asking you to listen to the experiences of our refugee friends, their hopes and dreams. And we will be asking you to work with us to dream a new world, to try to be more welcoming ourselves in everything we do or say, to challenge injustice and to pray and reflect. Without our refugee friends and without you, nothing I nor JRS can do will substantially change things.
A Visit of Heart to Heart
London, 04 July 2014 - In this testimony from the UK a JRS volunteer describes her unexpected encounter with an Afghan man held in an immigration removal centre. This chance meeting of two people, one free and the other detained, reveals a surprising role-reversal and highlights the inner human spirit that knows no borders.
One day I made an unscheduled visit to the detention centre. Neither the officials nor the detainees were expecting me, so I settled down in the multi-faith room and looked around at the books of different religious texts, the floor, the walls, and the carpet. There were no windows in this room making it impossible for anyone to connect with the outside world. Time passed slowly and alone I began to regret not informing the centre of my intended visit.
Then suddenly I saw Feizal.
When I first met Feizal he was very pale and was constantly being admitted to hospital. Often depleted of energy, he seemed withdrawn and sad. English is not Feizal's first language and he struggled to express himself the first time we met. However, today was different.
Like most detainees, Feizal has a sad story. Feizal's hometown is in Waziristan, a troubled border area between Pakistan and Afghanistan. The Taliban killed his father and then tried to force Feizal to fight for them. A school teacher, and a pacifist, he could think of nothing worse than killing another human being: so he refused. Consequently, the Taliban issued an order that Feizal be killed. He had to go into hiding. Feizal's mother managed to give him enough money to travel to the UK.
As soon as Feizal reached the UK he claimed asylum. His claim was refused and he was placed in immigration detention.
On seeing me sitting alone, Feizal immediately came up and sat next to me. His health had greatly improved and his downtrodden demeanour was replaced with one of strength. His English had also greatly progressed.
Feizal told me stories of his childhood and how he loved playing cricket. I complimented him on his dramatic improvement in English: he said this was due to him attending English classes at the detention centre. In the future, he hoped to teach English.
One gesture that will always stay with me was when Feizal pointed upwards and said with a big smile, "Above everyone, above the Taliban, above the law, there is Allah."
Despite all of his difficulties, Feizal still retained complete trust and confidence in God.
I left the centre feeling extremely humbled. I had set out with the intention of helping detainees. Instead, I had received care from a detainee. Although Feizal had so many problems of his own, he cared about my well-being and spent nearly an hour trying to make me feel valued, so that I wouldn't feel I had wasted my time in coming to the centre.
I realised that Feizal's actions were ones of true love: the giving of the self to the other. Feizal did not have money, did not have power nor even his liberty but still he had his heart and he chose to use it to make me feel better. And for that I will be forever grateful.
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Bianca Venkata is a volunteer member of the JRS UK detention-outreach team and visits detainees at an immigration removal centre in the UK.
If you would like to join as a volunteer, come and visit JRS UK Volunteering.
If you would like to join as a volunteer, come and visit JRS UK Volunteering.
A Poem dedicated to JRS
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| Above: The Parents - Woodcut by Kathe Kollwitz(1867-1945) |
The following poem titled 'Refugees' is written by Fr Patrick Purnell SJ, especially for JRS. The poet gives us a vivid picture of refugees with a dignified voice despite their agonising situations.
Refugees
by Patrick Purnell SJ
Stealthily, we moved from the edges,
Drawn by dreams of plenitude,
Leaving our homes at the margins
Of the deserted flatlands,
Where nothing grows
And what we had of wheels and cogs
Grow rust and harbour cobwebs.
It was fear that urged us on,
Hacking at our hearts,
Fear of the demented power,
That fed upon its own illusions
And cut the naval string
Which bound us to our Tribal Story.
We were stripped at gunpoint
At the precise point of intersection
Between what passed as frontier of the
Nations.
We carry nothing with us
But the golden memories
Of a love that had once
Bound us together as a people,
The incense of a gifted race
Which had ministered a fruitful land for a thousand years
And we carry, like a sacrament,
The myrrh of our Nation’s woundedness
In which is mixed the wisdom of our ancestors.
This is who we are.
These are our gifts,
As we stand before your walls
And if this is not enough
To gain entry to your land,
Let the sun come down
Upon our dry bones
And the moon carve us a grave.
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A Mass for Migrants & A Message for me!
St. Frances Cabrini - the Patron Saint of Migrants
Statue in St. George's Cathedral, Southwark
‘The Mass for Migrants has been celebrated every May bank holiday since 2006, when it was first introduced by the then Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor; at the suggestion of London Citizens. The Cardinal’s call at that Mass is for a more just treatment of migrants rooted in Catholic Social Teaching. Each year since then the event has reminded London of the invaluable contribution of so many migrants to the city’s society and economy. It offers a profound witness to the Church’s insistence that the dignity of the human person is God-given and never withdrawn and reminds us of the deep resonance with refugee and asylum seekers.’ (Extract from introduction in Mass booklet)
It was my privilege to be able to be there yesterday at a packed Westminster Cathedral. Before the Mass commenced the colourful and joyful procession of different migrant communities with their banners, music and dressed in their national clothes was indeed an Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia celebration. Bishop Patrick Lynch, one of the auxiliary bishops of Southwark, concelebrated with approximately fifty priests from Westminster, Southwark and Brentwood dioceses. It was noticeable that almost a third of the priests were from outside Europe. A blessing for our Church here in England and Wales today. VIPs included mayors/mayoresses from different boroughs of London, MPs, ambassadors of various countries and representatives from other faiths and Christian denominations. But THE VIPs were the migrants, each and everyone present from all over the world not only in this great city of London but in UK. Bidding prayers were in Polish, Mandarin, Swahili, French, Portuguese, Tagalog and English, a wee taste of the languages spoken in London churches. When the Our Father was prayed each according to their own native tongue, it did remind me of Pentecost! Poignantly, given recent events in his country, the Communion anthem was performed by a Ukranian soloist.
It would not do justice to Patrick Lynch’s profound homily to try to share what he said and I wish I had a copy to write it here. He quoted strongly from Evangelii Gaudium. He highlighted two main areas: Human Trafficking and Children of undocumented migrant workers, ‘no way in and no way out’ in their plight. Hopefully those present who have the clout to do something will not turn a deaf ear. As a volunteer at L’Arche and Jesuit Refugee Services, I have no clout, but that does not exempt me from not turning a deaf ear to God’s message for me. I found myself inspired, challenged, disturbed and consoled, all at the same time as I left the Cathedral and made my way to Colnbrook detention center for my weekly visit there.
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A Prayer for Our Mothers and Children on Mothering Sunday
A prayer from 'Alexandra' who comes to JRS each week and is currently studying at college. She is part of our women's group and her prayer helps us reflect on the occasion of Mothering Sunday, this weekend 30th March. Many of the women who come to JRS have children back home.
Prayer for Africa
Prayer for those children who don't have food and water.
Prayer for women who manage always to look for something for their children so they can eat every day
Prayer for all women give them wisdom
Prayer for all women in world to be educated because if women are educated all nations will be educated.
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I can show people what it is like to be destitute
Destitute
Each journey entails a hundred possibilities.
I have been thinking of a safe place
When
Feeling my fatherland to this land,
When
Leaving my motherland this land.
But when I reached to this foreign land,
I saw myself in no man’s land,
I saw myself living in Alexander Island
In Antarctica.
A place where no one want to live,
But is the place where I live,
My new home.
