January 21, 2004
By Alisa Harris
The other day as I was jetting through the halls to class, I passed a blind woman. The woman was learning to find her way using a cane – tapping it vaguely ahead of her, poking it tentatively into corners. She was led by a brisk and busy woman. They paused in the hall as I passed. “There are two water fountains here,” said the brisk and busy woman to the blind one. “One is taller than the other … The short one is for children and for people in wheelchairs.”
I brushed past, mind whirling, eyes ahead, legs propelling me forward. I turned a corner and left the blind woman far behind.
January 18, 2004 is Sanctity of Human Life Sunday -- a reminder not to brush past. Sanctity of Human Life Sunday reminds us to stop and see that all human life – from the aged and disabled to the unborn – is not only sacred but as disabled writer Nancy Mairs would tell us, also “rich, complicated, and utterly absorbing” – worth the living.
I am reminded of this each month when my family and I visit Bloomfield Nursing and Rehabilitation Center. The home is full of men and women who, to a practical world, present only empty eyes and a hollow shell. They can no longer hear, no longer speak, no longer understand. If given a choice between dying and living a life like theirs, we might choose to die. If pressed, we might say that their lives are not really worth living.
But is that really true?
My mother says the body is broken, but underneath the wrinkled skin and gnarly hands, behind the blank eyes, a whole person still lives – a person who lived a whole life, who made memories, who still craves love and care.
It’s true. I know because I have learned that you can hold someone’s hands and close your eyes and pray for them without knowing why they want you to pray. You can speak without expecting a reply. You can do this because deep down inside, although they can’t always say it, they’re the same as every person.
A couple of months ago, I sat beside an older Navajo woman with a round and wrinkled face, and a scarf over her thinning hair. I would say something, and each time she would look at me and her face would light up and she would smile and nod. She didn’t understand what I was saying and she couldn’t respond in words, but she was glad I was there. I also held the hand of an older man who looked past me the whole time, his face as blank as a doll’s, unresponsive – except that he clutched my hand in his.
Like Nancy Mairs, these people live life below everyone else’s gaze. Mairs says she sometimes feels like telling those around her, “Down here! There’s a person down here!”
In their broken smiles and the press of their wrinkled hands, the people at the nursing home tell us the same thing: “In here! There’s a person in here!”
And the unborn, sucking their thumbs and turning cartwheels in their mother’s wombs, would tell us the same thing.
We often think that beneath the blank face and vague eyes, or in a mother’s body, no life goes on. But there is life there, and not just life, but a rich life that is every moment worth the living.
I believe this not only in my head, but in my heart as well. But am I always consistent in this belief? I am not. There are unborn people I overlook. There are disabled people I forget to see. There are disabled people I still look at with embarrassment, and with a mixture of pity and pride in my own fitness and health.
What is the solution to this inconsistency? I think the answer lies in remembering to believe that life is beautiful and sacred, and in developing relationships that remind me of that every day. It is not easy to do this. It takes time. It takes energy and understanding. But I’ve learned through participating in the lives of the people at the nursing home, that it is worth it. Jeanne Schinto writes that we must learn to embrace “full humanity in the face of … infirmity,” and it is a worthy goal. It’s one that takes effort. It’s one that takes time. It’s a goal that takes pausing in the hall to see the “life … going on below the level of [my] gaze.” It’s a goal that takes living side by side with someone – talking, praying, and sometimes just smiling and holding their hand.
Rite of Passage is an organization that seeks to give youth a chance to get an education without having to spend time in a detention facility. Rite of Passage began in 1984 and they sponsor six schools throughout the western United States. The schools have an emphasis on academic education, but also include vocational studies and athletic training in the rigorous 25-30 hour school week. The schools also offer boarding schools to students who need to stay at the facility full time. Although the school strives to create an environment where youth can stay away from negative influences at home and school as much as possible, it also incorporates transition into home life in its curriculum.
Michele Truby, Health Promotion Specialist for San Juan County, believes that our county could benefit from a Rite of Passage facility in the area. She is organizing a meeting for the community on January 30, 2004. The meeting, to be held at Bloomfield City Council Chambers, will feature a presentation from Rite of Passage representatives and a question and answer session. If you would like to know more about the costs and benefits of a Rite of Passage Academy, come to the meeting on January 30 at 9 AM. For more information, call Michele Truby at 327-4461.
Note: Michele Truby will be sponsoring a tour of a facility similar to a Rite of Passage school is Durango. If you are interested in taking part in this tour, please contact the Farmington Public Library by Thursday, January 22.
Have you ever seen something that needed to be done in the community, but just didn’t feel like anyone would listen? Well, that’s all about to change. Mayor’s Teen Advisory Council is looking into sponsoring a Teen Summit, where teens and adults from the community get together to discuss the issues that are important to teens. You will have the chance to talk about what’s important to you, and have someone listen. If you would be interested in helping MTAC organize this summit, please contact the Teen Zone at 566-2201.