Letters, March 6

Not just numbers

The news from the Middle East never stops. Day after day we see images of destruction, hear of new attacks, political maneuvers, and military strategies. We discuss guilt and atonement, international law and historical claims. And in doing so, we forget the only thing that truly matters: the human being.

Behind every headline stands a father mourning his child. Behind every rocket stands a mother who does not know how to take away her family’s fear. In Tehran, Tel Aviv, Gaza, Lebanon — everywhere people cry the same tears. Only they do it separately, in their own shelters, behind their own walls.

What if we paused for a moment? What if we didn’t ask: “Who started it?” but rather: “How can this pain end?”

Let us imagine a day when all the dead of this region receive a name. A day when Israeli mothers show photos of their children and Iranian fathers tell the stories of their sons. A day when we don’t think in terms of factions, but in faces.

Let us imagine redefining the language of security. Not by the number of rockets, but by the number of children who sleep without nightmares. Not by military deterrence, but by shared hospitals where doctors from all countries fight side by side for the life of every person — no matter where they come from.

Let us imagine no longer using the sacred stories of this region as weapons. But instead, let us listen. An Israeli hears about the Nakba, a Palestinian about the Shoah, an Iranian about the longing for freedom. Not to agree, but to understand. Because understanding is the beginning of humanity.

I know, this sounds naive. In a world of power politics and interests, such a peace of the hearts seems impossible. But I ask us all: Aren’t we tired of always hearing only the language of weapons?

The human family, which itself carries the wounds of two World Wars, could have a special voice here. Not the voice of lecturing, but the voice of invitation: Come, let us sit together. Not at negotiation tables, but in marketplaces. Not with treaties, but with tea and bread.

The politicians of this world will continue to negotiate. But we — the people, the readers, the mothers and fathers — we can do something different. We can sharpen our gaze for what unites us. We can weep with those who weep. And we can insist that peace is not just the absence of war, but the presence of humanity.

Perhaps everything great always begins with a small thought. Perhaps peace in the Middle East begins right here, in the consciousness of people, in a reader’s opinion that someone reads and passes on.

I ask you to publish these words in your newspaper.

Thank you very much for your support.

Roman Hillerzeder

Salzburg, Austria

Frontline work taxing

Re: Siloam senior staffer worries of mass exodus after CEO hire (Mar 2)

I used to work at Siloam Mission and it saddens me to hear that some of the same issues exist among leadership that I experienced as a frontline staff member.

Frontline staff share in the joys of the patrons when there’s good news; frontline staff commiserate when there’s bad news; and, too often, frontline staff have to help people when they’re at their lowest. Frontline staff share in the the joys of Winnipeg’s most vulnerable and see people when they are at their lowest. There is a wealth of expertise that is built on experience and self-reflection.

Such language to describe those that use Siloam’s services amounts to executive decision makers making it harder for trust to be built, it weakens the relationships that undergird lasting change. Executive level decision-makets are making the most taxing jobs, the frontline jobs, more difficult; when accountability is sought the Christian leadership fails to show the humility Jesus preached but instead becomes a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Being a Christian organization requires humility and a conviction that God calls for the least of these to be the most honoured.

I was part of such an exodus of frontline staff once: to those that choose to stick it out, know that you have the respect of Winnipeggers even as leadership once again distracts from Siloam’s important work.

Kelsey Enns

Winnipeg

Birds of a feather

As I perused the March 2 edition of the Free Press, I was struck by a commonality among letter writers Brian Spencler (“Have some pride”) and Brian Fraser (“Proud of Hellebuyck”), and the Think Tank piece by Jonathan Van Elslander (Hockey games and missed opportunities). It seems that all three writers were touching on what psychologists and anthropologists have come to refer to as identity fusion, those mergings of an individual’s identity with that of a collective (team, company, province, school, profession, etc.)

While a degree of identify fusion is necessary to participate in a society — for example, as a member of a family — it seems to me that one need be vigilant about maintaining boundaries between oneself and collectives in general. When Mr. Elslander writes that he is no longer wearing a Jets hat “in good conscience” I wonder if loyalty to a home team truly a matter of conscience. It seems to me that “conscience” is about one’s deeply held moral compass. Is loyalty to a home team really about one’s essential humanity?

Comedian Jerry Seinfeld once quipped that people don’t really cheer for a team’s players, rather they cheer for the uniform. I think that perspective could apply to the controversies surrounding Mr. Hellebuyck. After all, professional hockey is only a game that rewards its players with salaries often beyond those of us ordinary folk, providing enjoyment to its fans. In my view, taking it to a level of conscience could be seen as conflating who we are with sports teams and its heroes.

Could there a connection between the dynamics of identity fusion with what’s going on in the wider world?

Edwin Buettner

Winnipeg

Unpleasant experience

Shopping in stores and eating in restaurants downtown is an increasingly unpleasant experience.

The amount of frequent and overt shoplifting is at plague proportions.

When caught by staff and security, those stopped are often abusive, threatening, and too often violent.

Items are regularly thrown, displays toppled and very foul language is commonly used.

Too often, the culprit will claim to be persecuted for any number of reasons.

Eating in restaurants, particularly fast food franchise types and food courts, has become very unpleasant because there are so many individuals panhandling and asking for food.

Though I regularly buy a meal for someone when it is obvious to me that they are truly hungry, the demand and the need, make me think twice about whether to eat out and where to eat.

A full-service restaurant usually provides much more privacy and security, and the opportunity to eat without interruptions and negative encounters.

Yet sometimes there are still problems for diners and staff when individuals boldly approach tables from outside.

Observing and dealing with belligerent and violent people has become a regular part of the downtown outing and eating experience.

Holly Bertram

Winnipeg