Edited Nov 24th, 2013
One of the most luminous moments in my life was in 1988, when I was talking with a small boy in his room. When another boy came in, I was introduced with the words: “This is Ingrid. She is also a survivor.”
That meeting is etched in my memory with a sprinkle of Tinkerbell dust: Time stood still, and we savoured that feeling of kinship, of belonging, of seeing each other and being seen.
This blog is dedicated to them, and to all other children who are carrying wounds the world doesn’t want to see. And to all adults who have children like these as a part of who they are.
The two boys said : “We have to tell people that these things are real!” And this is my way of doing so.
I also want to explore the societal mechanisms that make it so difficult to see that “these things are real”, and to show alternatives to these mechanisms.
Stories and labels are the building blocks of these mechanisms, and and I want to collect thoughts that can dissolve them, and look critically at stories and labels that … often with the very best of intentions … can cage and blind and cripple and maim.
I’ll let E.E. Cummings have the last word:
From “A Poet’s advice to Students”:
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.
To be nobody-but-yourself-in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.