“This is what the things can teach us: to fall, patiently to trust our heaviness. Even a bird has to do that before he can fly.”― Rainer Maria Rilke
What a miraculous thought: patiently to trust our heaviness-patiently to trust our burdens and the crosses that we carry throughout life. But why trust? How can we be patient with something that is so difficult to endure? If we are not patient, then how will we emerge? If our burdens are too great and numerous, then what if they break us before we can fly, as the quote suggests? These questions and many more float through my mind. This quote by Rilke is one of my absolute favorites, because it reminds me that each experience, each moment that we are alive, each burden that we bear is teaching us to trust our own heaviness. This heaviness he is speaking of comes from the various burdens that we carry throughout our lives. Jesus most likely felt the same heaviness that Rilke speaks of, metaphorically and physically, as he carried the cross on his back in the 7th station. As I was reflecting on this, and the image of Jesus carrying the cross, I immediately felt myself calling to mind individual students that I have worked with throughout this year at Perspectives Middle Academy, and the experiences that they have shared with me.
The other day a student revealed to me that his cousin had been shot 3 times. He told me casually, in the middle of the advisory class that I teach, as though he was telling me what he had for dinner the night before. It took me a moment to register exactly what he was saying, and to question him a bit further. It turns out that his cousin had been walking up to a house and a couple of guys that he didn’t even know shot at him. The attack was not fatal…he is alive, but he will carry those scars for the rest of his life. My student will carry those scars the rest of his life as well, even if he does not know that right now. To us, the privileged, this is an event that would shake us to the core, maybe even break us. To the youth who live in Auburn-Gresham, this event is something that occurs on the daily.
If there is one thing that I have learned from my Amate year it is this: being a 12-year-old on the south side of Chicago is no easy task. There is the constant fear of violence, the reality of living in a food desert, the fact that many are growing up in single parent households, where that single parent works nights and is never home to help them with their homework. Then there is the pressure that comes with trying to fit in, while also remaining true to yourself, as well as the challenge of discovering who you are and your place in the world. They carry so much…heavy crosses that society has placed on their shoulders. I suppose when phrased in such a way, these situations seem pretty bleak. I mean, how could anybody emerge stronger from this? Well, I do believe that it is possible.
If you are not familiar with Father Gregory Boyle, he is a Jesuit priest who has done a great deal of work with at-risk youth, including those formerly involved with gangs and recently incarcerated. I would like to share with you one of his most powerful quotes, partly because I am inspired by him, and partly because to me it beautifully illustrates this station of the cross. “You stand with the least likely to succeed until success is succeeded by something more valuable: kinship. You stand with the belligerent, the surly and the badly behaved until bad behavior is recognized for the language it is: the vocabulary of the deeply wounded and of those whose burdens are more than they can bear.” When I first read this, I was astounded. This sums up my Amate year in so many words. My students do not have the privilege of growing up in a rich suburb. They do not have the privilege of being white in a world where being anything other than that is a heavy load.
When I begin to get frustrated with the disruptive behaviors that they often display, I try to remember: they carry so much. Their bad behavior is the vocabulary of the deeply wounded. Their “lack of success” in the classroom is not a time to abandon them, it is a time to stand by their side. In the end they will be so much stronger due to their burdens, and it is my duty as an educator to stand by their side. It is my duty and my privilege to help them bear those burdens.
I believe that when we are examining and reflecting on the 7th station, as Jesus carried the cross on his back, it is key to remember one thing: he was never alone. Not only were there people walking beside him, but God was there always. In our communities this Amate Year, we strive to be vulnerable so that we can support each other in all of it, through each joy and each burden.
As we journey through life, there will never be a time when we do not carry any crosses. There is always something that we will be carrying on our shoulders. This weight will change and shift and evolve and affect us in different ways throughout our lives, but it will never disappear. The beauty comes when we are able to support each other during the times when the weight threatens to become too much. This is living. The moments when I am supporting others, as well as in the moments when I am being supported are the moments when I feel my humanity most fully. It is the crosses that make us whole, and from the crosses that we received the most strength. One of my favorite songs from the musical Carousel says “At the end of the storm, there’s a golden sky, and the sweet silver song of a lark. Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain, though your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart and you’ll never walk alone.” As you journey from this space tonight, please remember…we each have our own crosses, and as they change and shift and evolve and help us to grow stronger, what is most vital to remember is that you never have to bear them on your own. I am here, and all of the people who love you are here, and God is here, and you will never walk alone.
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