From The Diary of 1947 by Nirmal Kumar Basu, in Sandip Mukherji's Noakhali 1946, translated by Rinita Mazumdar.
During the genocide of Hindus Hindu women suffered most
Here is a description of pregnant Hindu women refugees during Noakhali mayhem during 1946. The excerpt is from Anadabazar Patrika, the most circulated Bengali language daily, published from Calcutta, India.
The most heart-wrenching stories are those of the women who are about to give birth. They are lying in the station and having labor pain. One can only imagine that there are beds on the floor of the refugee camp. There is a scarcity of midwives and several newborns died. Sometimes the new mothers need blood. On November 21 in February in the Faridgung area we got the news that in the previous 12 days more than 200 babies were born and most of them died without special care and there was little chance of saving the mothers.
-The following was published by the Public Relations Department of the Bengal Government]
“Last 15th December the article “Destruction of Noakhali” was published in Anandabazar Patrikaa. Mr. Chapalakanta Bhattachrya, wrote that last November 9 to November 21 in Faridgung 200 babies were born and all the newborns died right after birth. A detailed inquiry about this was made. In Chandpur camp, the public Head Department of the Special assistant Director had ignored during the publication of the article in the Faridgung area only 14 babies were born. Among them, 2 babies and one pregnant woman died. Yours Sincerely, P.S. Mathur, Director of Bengal Government Anandabazar Patrika, City Edition, 13th January 1947.
From The Diary of 1947 by Nirmal Kumar Basu, in Sandip Mukherji's Noakhali 1946, translated by Rinita Mazumdar.
Noakhali Village
Last October 19, 1946 (English Calendar) Monday a group of Muslim men invaded our house. I know their faces but not their names. I know the name of one person, Mucha. They had lethal weapons. When they came into the courtyard, we immediately closed the front door. When they broke the door and started coming inside, we climbed the roof. From there we saw that all the outer rooms were set on fire. We saw from the roof that some of the hoodlums were starting a fire. Then some of them came upstairs. Then they dragged some of us downstairs and threw some downstairs. When we women came up, we saw that some of the men were tied by ropes, and some were beaten up and some wounded via knife and spear attacks. We, meaning the women and children, were all taken to the north near the concrete steps that lead to the pond.
My elder brother-in-law Dinnatha Roy hit some of the criminals on the head. He was with us. They pulled him from our midst and took him to the mandap[1] where the bigraha[1] of Goddess Durga is kept and threw him in the fire in front of the Mandap. From the concrete steps leading to the pond, we saw that many were killed in the same way. Ramaniromon Roy, husband of my younger sister, was hit on the head by a club and then the goons threw him into the fire.
My brother-in-law Binod Majumdar, husband of my sister Jashoda, was among the women. They also took him, hit him with a club in the head, and threw him in the fire. They killed several people in this same manner. We could clearly see the mandap and Goddess Durga’s bigraha from the steps of the pond. We could see a large crowd there in front of the mandap. We saw that some of those who were half burnt were coming out of the fire and the criminal goons were throwing them back into the fire again. Then we saw that Bharat Bhowmick, our neighbor, was brought in front of the mandap and was killed. Seeing all this some of the women fainted. Then we were taken to our neighbor Bhowmick’s house, and they snatched all the jewelry from our bodies.
When they were snatching the jewelry some women’s noses and ears were also torn; they completely disrobed some women. After this the Muslims in the Patari household took us and put us in the betelnut grove that belonged to the Bhowmick’s. Then yesterday they took us to the Patari house. From there the cops rescued seventeen of us and brought us here, to Noakhali. There were several women with us, but I do not know if all of them were rescued.
Yours truly,
Mrs. Barmala Roy Wife of Late Monomohan Roy Village, Govindapur Police Station, Begumgung District Noakhali.
From TheDiary of 1947 by Nirmal Kumar Basu. Picture Credit: picryl.com
Find previous articles of Dr. Mazumdar's series on Global Conflict by clicking here.
From the forthcoming book Noakhali, 1946: By Sandip Mukherjee, Translated and recreated by Rinita Mazumdar PhD. Subscribe below for access to pre-sale discounts and signed copies!
From Bengali Daily, Anandabazar Patrika July 5, 1947:
(This is still the largest circulated daily in Bengali and also supports an independent Television news channel which airs news in 5 Indian languages)
Allahabad (a city in Northern India) July 3, 1947:
Mr. Amiyo Mukherjee, appealed in the Kotwali police station in Allahabad that one Hindu girl from his family, named Anima Mukherjee, was abducted three months ago during the attack in Noakhali and was brought here under a Muslim name, Zohra. The Mukherjee household was burnt down during the attack on Hindus in Noakhali. The girl herself testified that she was abducted by a Muslim man named Siddiqui and was confined in his home. This girl would be produced in Court to testify. She wrote letters to a relative and appealed to rescue her. After killing her parents, the gang brought her to Howrah Station in West Bengal and then to Marrek Springs; there she was forced to put on a hijab and brought to Allahabad. She further testified that 8 people gang raped her. She was given a Muslim name after the man abducted her. The Magistrate gave further directions to the inquiry.
During the trial the girl was residing with a Hindu family under the directions of the Court, and was called by her given name, Anima Mukherjee. The man who abducted her was arrested in Uttar Pradesh (Anandabazar Patrika, July 5, 1947).
Cultural Hegemony & Untold Genocides by Rinita Mazumdar PhD
Noakhali, Bengal India, now in Bangladesh: 1946:
In 1946, the Muslim majority population of India (specially in the Punjab in North West and Bengal province in the East) demanded a separate state for Muslims. One of their methods to obtain a “Muslim homeland” was genocide of the Hindu population in West Punjab and East Bengal, which both had a Muslim majority and Hindu minority populations.
From the book, Noakhali 1946 by Sandip Mukherjee, that I translated and created. Noakhali is a province in Bangladesh (present) and was also a province in undivided India (East Bengal). Here there was a massive genocide of Hindus. Some examples are given here from the testimony of one of Gandhi’s “Peace workers” or volunteers who went there to bring peace and opened refugee camps for Hindus who were evicted by the Muslims and whose houses were burned down and all their property looted:
“We were making an inventory of the killed and missing and here we were told that a total of 5 Hindus were killed, and others were missing. We made a note of all of that in our list. The attackers were well organized and their work was divided. Some had the job of setting fire to Hindu homes, some of looting, some of killing and abducting the women. Those who refused to convert were set on fire. In the entire village there was no instance of Hindus killing Muslims. In Dattapara, we heard that Mr. Rajendralala Basu did use his gun and fired some shots from the second floor and killed a couple of the Muslims. In the case of attack on Chittababu’s house one Muslim died of police firing. In Karpara what we witnessed is that they are either fleeing or fled and not attacking the attackers. For they were small compared to the hundred Muslims. There were only 15/20 Hindu households. In some villages no more than three Hindus were left. Not a single wealthy Hindu household was spared. Most of the houses were either completely burned down or partially burned down. Only some very poor huts were spared. All the young and pretty Hindu women were abducted. After this no Hindu returned to their village. After Gandhi came here and there several relief camps were open, they tried to bring the Hindus back, but none returned till this date.
A few days before the attack on Hindus, there was a rumor that something like this would happen. The people, however, were not sure. The Hindus thought that if they unify, they will be able to resist even if the attack happened. Actually, in all places they resisted. So, a batch of 500 Muslims seeing all the Hindus united fled. About 46/47 concrete houses were destroyed. In one of the villages called “Mandartalli”, the most palatial house was called “Singha[1] house” or “Lion House”. About 100 people attacked that house. A young man named Nani Singh tried to resist and protect the women of the household. The attackers came into the Courtyard and looked for the women. Nani Singha took a long sword[2] and stood in the doorway and attacked about 5 people who tried to enter. He severed the neck of one Muslim and the others fled. They were not able to take anything. At night with the help of one Muslim gentleman, the family took a boat and fled. The boat reached them to Chandpur and took some of their stuff and the rest was in the house. Next day about 4.5 thousand people came and destroyed the house.”
Noakhali 1946 by Sandip Mukherjee
Undivided
Map of Undivided Bengal. In 1947 when India won independence from British rule, two states were born, India (Hindu majority, secular democracy), and Pakistan (Muslim majority, theocratic state). West Bengal became a state in India with Hindu majority and Muslim minority, while East Bengal became East Pakistan, with Muslim majority and Hindu minority. Then in 1971, East Pakistan broke away from West Pakistan (now Pakistan) and became an independent nation, Bangladesh after India and Pakistan went for a 14 day war.
Map of undivided Bengal in 1947:
Find previous articles of Dr. Mazumdar's series on Global Conflict by clicking here.
Shiva’s Dance in Albuquerque
Rinita Mazumdar, Ph.D. is one of the leading feminist scholars in the Southwest. Originally from India, Dr. Mazumdar earned her Masters from India and Canada in Philosophy and MSc in Psychology from the University of Phoenix. She received her Ph.D. in Philosophy from the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Find her poetry collection, “Shiva’s Dance in Albuquerque” by clicking here.
Cultural Hegemony & Untold Genocides V4 Story by Rinita Mazumdar PhD
1946: Noakhali a district in Bengal province in Undivided India, which is now in Bangladesh. There was widespread attack on minority Hindus, instigated by the Muslim League by Muslim gangs. This was specially true of the abduction, rape, conversion and forced marriage of Hindu women. Gandhi was there to pacify the situation and asked Hindus to practice non violence.
Here is an instance of some of the things that happened to Hindu women. Noakhali, October 1946, East Bengal, now Bangladesh:Mr. Satischandra Dasgupta’s, who was with Gandhi writes,
“…… Dr. Amiyo Chakravarty and I came via Jagatpur to Tamta. We were taken to the house of the Mr. Bhowmick, a Hindu resident of the village. That house was burnt down completely during the mayhem. One of the male members of the house, a nephew living there, was murdered. He just passed his Bachelor’s degree in science. Everything in the house was looted and the house was set on fire. Hindu women were dragged out and raped. I could not imagine how such a thing could happen. One woman was left outside to die. She passed away a few days ago. The local Muslim men buried her, although she was supposed to be cremated, but they did not know how to do so. Other women were returned after 15 days. All of them were raped. One by one they were taken into the house. Even after one week the woman could not get out of bed. The fate of 40-50 women in Jagatpur were like this. “
Note Gandhi told women to bear it all silently. Gandhi told the Hindu women to keep poison with them, in case they were violated and during the torture should bite they tongue so as to make no noise, but never inflict pain on the other.
Find previous articles of Dr. Mazumdar's series on Global Conflict by clicking here.
Shiva’s Dance in Albuquerque
Rinita Mazumdar, Ph.D. is one of the leading feminist scholars in the Southwest. Originally from India, Dr. Mazumdar earned her Masters from India and Canada in Philosophy and MSc in Psychology from the University of Phoenix. She received her Ph.D. in Philosophy from the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Find her poetry collection, “Shiva’s Dance in Albuquerque” by clicking here.
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Growing up in the Catholic Church, the word “forgiveness” always fascinated me. Every so often, we would be coerced to attend the Sacrament of Confession, where we would start the visit by admitting to the Priest, “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was decades ago, and since then I have committed so many “sins.” It baffled my mind that as a teenager I was committing a sin for doing things that teenagers naturally do like desiring to be with girls my age or sneaking a beer after a Saturday night basketball game with my friends. I often wondered why I needed to beg for forgiveness from someone else, when I felt that it was me at the end of the day who needed to forgive myself when I wasn’t at my best.
As I have come into my own as an adult, I have come to peace with the fact that I am not perfect and never will be. Like many others, I have done things to hurt the people closest to me and for that am very remorseful. This is not to knock on the Catholic Church as I am grateful to have met some very inspirational human beings who live to serve others. But one thing that has come apparent to me over the years is that you really don’t need anyone outside of yourself to learn how to forgive or to have the power to be forgiven.
Hurt
I am so grateful for my family and friends, but just as I have hurt others, some of the people closest to me have hurt me the most deeply. People who I have loved deeply have taken advantage of me, wished bad for me behind my back, and betrayed me at the times when I needed them most. Others have seemingly lost their way due to the weight of the world, that especially in these times, sometimes seems unbearable and overwhelming. Even further, I believe that there exist people and forces in life who desire to cause havoc, pain, and death to oppress or suppress those who are dissimilar from them.
My journey towards forgiveness probably started a few years ago, when I passed through some of the most painful times of my adult life and had to learn the hard way to trust my instinct and intuition more than ever before. During that period, I also began to realize that I needed to begin the process by forgiving myself for my own shortcomings and mistakes that I have made as a human being. I deeply regret some of the mistakes I made from as far back as 7 years old, and often find myself feeling guilty for not always doing the right thing.
Reflection
However, as I have spent more time alone during the pandemic and reflected more upon who I am as a person, I have started to feel significantly less guilty. I now realize that none of us is perfect, and that the things we do that hurt others are often just part of a larger cycle that can be difficult to escape. While I am not 100% at peace with everything that I have done to others or they have done to me, I have begun the journey towards forgiveness. Most of us will never forget why someone did something to hurt us, but the best we can to is to try to understand. And through that understanding, we can begin to have dialogue with ourselves and others as to what we can do better the next time. As the Buddha said, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who get burned.”
As we enter the New Year, I encourage each of us to try our best to forgive ourselves and others for the harm they have done to us. It is without a doubt one of the most difficult challenges for us to overcome as a species, yet one of the most important. If we can’t forgive ourselves first, then getting to others will be much more difficult, so at least we know where to start.
Chris is also a singer-songwriter as the Lead Vocalists for the band Reviva and has embarked on a solo career as Irie Kristoff as well. Find out more about Chris and to read previous articles of In the Footsteps of Peace, click here.
When I think about writing about my own journey to inner peace, the first thing that comes to mind is how imperfect it is. Although I have dedicated years to meditation and spiritual education, I still find myself committing errors that many beginners make. It’s interesting how just one lapse of judgment can erase months or years of diligent effort. I also find it difficult to be concise with my friends and family about the journey in a way that is helpful yet not overwhelming or judgmental. With that said, I have found other people’s journeys along the way to be some of the most helpful teachers for me, and hope that in sharing parts of my own someone can take one or two things away from my successes and mistakes. With that said, I have been thinking a lot in 2021 about two of the most difficult barriers to overcome on the journey to a more peaceful, calm mind: Aversion and Attachment. Find out more about Chris and his previous articles here…
If you pick up any basic Buddhist text, it is very likely that you will encounter at least one chapter on these themes. Like many Buddhist concepts, they are opposites. They are also known as two of the main sources of human suffering. As we go through life on a daily, monthly, or yearly basis, we are bombarded by people and experiences to which we feel averse or attached. In other words, we want the positive people or pleasure in our lives to continue, and the painful or hurtful experiences or people to stop. In my own life, I have many attachments to people and experiences, and am averse to others. For example, I am attached to my family, my bandmates, my exercise routine, and my love of sharp cheddar cheese. I am generally averse to metal music, large crowds (especially right now), and tomatoes in any form. I enjoy every sip of a dry light white wine like Pinot Grigio, yet scowl upon seeing someone enjoy a bottle of sweet Chardonnay or Moscato. These are all sensory experiences that make us attached and averse. In the age of social media, we see someone’s profile and say “They’re hot!” or “Definitely not my type” often without getting to know anything about them.
The reasons that attachment and aversion are barriers to finding inner peace are simple. They prevent us from seeing things as they truly are. We over value things we are attached to, and often dismiss things or people to which we are averse. We say things like, “But she’s a Republican…I would never date her”, or “I have to have sugar in my coffee”. These habits we form mentally provide us with an itemized list of the people, places, and things in our lives that are either good or bad, woke or ignorant, hot or not, fun or boring. The funny thing about all of this is that these people and things in our life are not innately beautiful or ugly, they just are. It is our own minds and experiences who place judgment and value on things outside of ourselves. By judging things and people this way, we cannot see clearly the world as it is. A dog is not a good dog or a bad dog or an ugly or cute dog, they are just a dog. A human is not literally a Democrat or a Republican, they are a human.
So without getting too much into the woods, I challenge you to take note of the things or people that you are attached or averse to in your life. Explore why you like or dislike them, and where that attachment or aversion comes from. Why does this person or food make you feel warm and happy, while another fills you with disgust? The less attached and averse we are to everything in the outside world, the more clearly we are able to see things as they are, and this allows us to be more free no matter where we are or whom we are with.
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Like many Americans, I passed the weeks and months leading up to and following the November Presidential Election in a state of high stress and anxiety. Unlike many Americans, I don’t have the luxury of living in a bubble where everyone I interact with agrees with me. I have coworkers who are split 50/50 along political lines and are not afraid to express themselves. I also am lucky enough to sing in a band (Reviva), where the vote is not unanimous as we all come from different backgrounds. God only knows how we have stayed together for 11 years!
When discussing politics with people you are intimately connected to, nothing is off limits. Anything from who is the better looking First Lady to why Republicans love big trucks is fair game. While it can be difficult at times to be so close to people who have a completely different worldview and set of priorities than you, I ultimately believe that it is the most important factor for having a healthy democracy.
Hopes for a Better Day
On Election Day, I opted for a late afternoon golf round with a friend to distract myself from the tension. As we were a pair of 2, we were paired with a third young man walking solo who needed a group. The man wore a Blue Lives Matter hat with a MAGA pin, clearly demonstrating his stance on the day. While it was probably best not to get into a deep political conversation given the stakes at hand, we both agreed that the military helicopters flying overhead to spot protestors were probably unnecessary given that we wouldn’t learn the outcome of the election for a few days. Despite our differences of opinion, we made great conversation over nine holes discussing basketball, golf swings, which player would be favored at The Masters, and more. It turned out that his brother was a legendary basketball player for Kirtland Central, who I knew well as we grew up in the ranks together.
Our match ended amicably, with each of wishing one another good luck and safe travels. Upon finishing, I stopped by my father’s house mask-on, as I do everywhere I go, to have a quick few glasses of wine. What looked might be a Biden run-away victory turned into a nail-biter that signaled my PTSD from the Tuesday night 4 years ago. The two quick glasses of wine turned into 5 that left me with a foggy and uncertain feeling Wednesday morning that closely mirrored the state of the race.
As the week wore on, it became clear to most people around the world who won the election. While I was without a doubt relieved at the outcome, it was also more clear than ever how divided we are as a country.. As I observed a celebration parade on Saturday in Albuquerque, it was hard not to notice as people of both parties waved their flags, often shouted at one another, and found little common ground. I’ve been reflecting on this phenomenon in the U.S. for years now, thinking back to my time as a university student during the Bush-Gore Florida recount. While I was disappointed Bush had won, I didn’t feel personally like it was the end of the world.
Celebrating the Obama Presidency was a memorable night for me, one I mostly passed in disbelief that we had finally elected a Black President. When Trump won in 2016, however, something felt different. It felt like it was about more than politics. I am 100% percent sure that many Trump supporters feel this way right now about their candidate losing. Regardless of who you voted for, more Americans than ever feel pessimistic about the future of our democracy. It is an experiment which is based upon a very careful balance between personal liberty and the greater common good. As of now, it seems to me that we have tilted too far towards emphasizing individual freedom and perspective without taking into account the overall wellbeing of all members of our nation.
The Singularity within the Duality
We have become a dualistic nation, where you must choose between one or the other. We are either Red or Blue, Black Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter, Socialist or Fascist, Christian or Atheist. The labels that the media and we in social media use to describe ourselves as human beings simply does not do justice to how complex we are as individuals.
Most human beings have basic needs in order to be happy: food, water, a home, a job and education, protection from the healthcare system and law enforcement, and family and friends that we can spend time on this Earth with. Other than that, we are shaped by the environment we grow up in. This includes the food we grow and eat, the music and art we like and identify with, the traditions and customs we celebrate, and the morals and values that are taught to us by our families and ancestors.
The thing about duality is that you need one in order to have the other. There is no good without bad, light without dark, small without large, or full without empty. What this means, unfortunately for extremists on either side, is that we need each other in order to exist.
Friendships
The good news is that I have found my hardcore Trump supporting neighbor to be a generally good guy who is merely frustrated about not having some of his basic needs met after being recently laid off. He doesn’t think that government should play such a big role in our daily lives, yet is still concerned about losing his healthcare at any moment. The other day he stopped by, mask on, to cheers and wish the new Administration the best of luck in dealing with the many challenges that face us. Our dogs played in the dog park together for a bit with pure joy, despite their differences in age and breed.
Later that night I spoke with a good friend living abroad who supported Bernie but didn’t vote. Although she was disappointed that we haven’t made more progress as a country on climate change, she was proud of the fact that somehow, through all of this, we got through an election together without resorting to violence or despair. It was then that I had somewhat of an epiphany….we as human beings all go through the process of living, learning, loving, suffering, losing, and dying. That is something that politics can never change, no matter how divided we become.
Love Thy Neighbor
Maybe it really is much better to love thy neighbor, as they say, than to cancel them for who they are. Once we are able to safely engage others personally (fingers crossed if we vaccinate), I encourage all of us to reach out to someone from the other side. Play a round of golf, exchange a recipe, have a cordial conversation and listen to one another. After all, we don’t grow by being with those who think alike, but by being challenged by someone who thinks and prays differently than you…we might not just learn something from each other, but also save our democracy. Find about more about Chris Brennan and access his previous articles.
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Northern New Mexico is one of the most beautiful parts of the Land of Enchantment. From the Mora Valley, to Taos and Tres Piedras, to Pecos and Chama, it offers some of the most stunning vistas the Southwest has to offer. Yet like most things that have such innate beauty, there is often a Catch 22 that comes along with this quality. For me, the allure of the wilderness and its splendor has a tendency to disarm me and make me forget just how dangerous it can be. Since I was young, I have loved to backpack, camp, and hike in the mountains like many New Mexicans. Over the years we have definitely had close encounters with bears, wolves, snakes, and all kinds of animals that may put a fright up your back. But nothing compares to the feeling of being utterly and hopelessly lost.
View from the Top
That was the story this past weekend as a trio of us navigated the vast Santa Fe National Forest tucked behind Manuelita Canyon. While I felt comforted knowing that we were with a longtime resident of the area and expert hiker, I grew concerned as she repeatedly let us know that she had previously gotten lost on this specific route. As that part of the forest badly needs to be serviced and cleaned, all of the fallen trees make it very difficult to orient one self. After hearing her say for the fourth time to just stay on the ridge if anything happens, I exclaimed, “Please stop! We’re not going anywhere without you.” As she is nearing her 78th birthday, the reality that she could slip and fall and leave us in a precarious position settled into the back of my mind. Luckily that didn’t happen. We found the top of the route with a beautiful view of the surrounding valleys and canyons. I started thinking about what I was going to make for breakfast upon our return and all the other tasks I would need to do before driving home.
Sights Unseen
Ten minutes upon our descent, the first signs of something wrong began to creep up. Our pack of 5 dogs had lost the scent of the trail. The rocks we had put up along the way to help guide us back were nowhere in sight. Having gone through similar episodes before in my life, my emergency response went into full effect: Do we have enough water? What about cell phone battery? Who would know where we might be to help us? What are our options moving forward? After going through the checklist and remembering to breathe and stay calm, more philosophical questions start to arise. Why are we on this path right now when we knew it would be dangerous? What would I do differently if we do manage to find our way home? Who and what are the things that I am most grateful for and looking forward to doing again if I get the chance? Have I done enough to leave the world a better place if this is it for me?
After 4.5 hours of backtracking and using our intuition, we were finally able to find the trail that led back to the car. A wave of pure elation and gratitude overwhelmed us. I was no longer worried what I would eat that day, but rather really excited to hear my parents’ voice over the phone. Getting home late and not being able to complete all my tasks no longer mattered at all. For just a brief time, I was fully present in the moment and experienced a state of true bliss to be alive.
Cutting off Frivolous Chores
This story is not as harrowing as that of Aron Ralston, who managed to cut off his own arm in order to save himself from a boulder that had crushed him while canyoneering. Nor is it as inspiring as Las Vegas Raiders’ Tight End Darren Waller, who overcame being lost in substance abuse to get sober and become one of the best players in the league. Yet all stories of EED lost seem to end in a similar way. There are only two potential endings when you are lost: You somehow make it out and survive, or you perish. What happens frequently is that by getting lost, we often tend to find ourselves. By going through a difficult time, we reflect on whom and what is important to us and what time has been wasted on frivolous chores or relationships. When you are lost with other people, you learn that you have to trust and depend on another; to use the skills that each has to collectively survive and get back on track. We think about what we would do differently if given a second chance, and how we can use our time more wisely.
You would think that after going through this situation multiple times in my life, that I would have learned my lesson by now. I am always sure to have enough water. I have flashlights and knives and jackets to stay warm. I watch enough Bear Grylls to know which mushrooms are poisonous and which are edible. But the truth is that in getting lost, there is always an opportunity to reset. Getting lost gives you the chance to start anew, to enjoy the basic comforts of life.
Lost and Found
I share this story today because I look back and see a country in the United States that seems a bit lost right now. We are just beginning to see a second wave of a virus that has already been relentlessly detrimental to our physical and economic health as a nation. Once seen as the leader in global environmental action, we are the only developed nation to drop out of the Paris Agreement. We can’t seem to figure out how to support our law enforcement while also holding them accountable to protect all of our citizens equally. We no longer are the country that takes in refugees and supports them on their way to the American Dream. The upcoming election has many Americans both fearful and mistrustful of the voting process as well as the results and potential consequences. According to my group of friends living in Tokyo, Copenhagen, Florence, Melbourne, and Nicaragua, we have become the laughingstock of the international dinner table. We seem to have the lost our identity and pride as a nation. Some might say that we never had a positive identity and that the ugliness of our history and oppression is finally just coming to light. Others say that waving the flag simply means the right to free speech and unlimited arms. I believe, however, that this nation was once a symbol of progress for the human race. We have repeatedly stepped in throughout our history to assist other nations going through difficult times. We have also witnessed many Americans create, invent, write, and will into existence institutions and ideas that have without a doubt contributed to making this world a better place. There’s a reason that John Lennon moved to New York City and Elon Musk and Tesla have their headquarters here in the US.
Hope in the Face of Uncertainty
Hardships often prepare people for an extra-ordinary destiny.
I don’t believe that one political candidate or party will save us and help us to find ourselves as a country. I also don’t need scientists or politicians to shape my view that the climate and environment are rapidly deteriorating, putting us in a dire situation as a human race. And I cannot pretend that I think we will resolve all of the social, racial, health, and economic challenges facing us as a country within the next ten years. As an optimist, however, I do have hope. Although we are lost right now in the woods of division, fear, and illness, we are starting to question: Where are we and who can help us? Where have we wasted precious time and resources? What would we do differently if we are given a second chance? It is only by losing one self that we can forge a new way ahead. The path will not be easy or straight ahead, but full of frightening and existential challenges. The good news is that we have some great people from all walks of life making changes in our communities. We have a new generation growing up fully knowing the perils of climate change and inequality that have tools at their disposal that no other generation in America had. Most importantly, we have each other. So now that we know we’re lost, we had better start learning to depend on each other to get through this. There are only two options when you’re lost, to survive or to perish. I hope we find a way to the former.
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The first time I ever meditated was a guided meditation at the Catholic high school I attended with a teacher I really trusted. It took about 20 minutes and my mind was rapidly racing for the first 15 of them, but the last 5 I noticed that my mind was noticeably more calm. It took longer in between for thoughts to arise and disappear, allowing for me to see things somewhat clearer. I believe different traditions have various names for the racing mind, calling it the “Monkey Mind” or the “Lizard Brain”. After all, our minds are meant to think, so they are just performing their natural function. The problem with this is that a mind that races is not able to think clearly. There are just too many thoughts, desires, fears, and anxieties, which prevent us from seeing things as they really are. Instead, we see them for how we think them to be. We jump from memories in the past, to worries about the future, and create a story that tries to make sense of it all. The reality that is all we have and all there really is is the present. The past only exists in our minds and the future hasn’t or may never happen. This doesn’t mean that it is not useful to reflect, learn lessons, and plan. But rather, that doing so with a calm mind can lead to more positive outcomes.
I say all of this as the 2020 election looms over the U.S., with the consequences higher than ever. No matter which side you plan to vote for, there is no denying that this election feels a lot heavier than some others in the past. As a country, we have gone through so much in so little time this year. What started off as a promising new decade has turned into an ominous sign of what could be to come. We have a raging climate crisis that is displacing and destroying both people and natural resources from Coast to Coast. We face a racial reckoning in which brown and black people are still exploited and brutalized by a justice system that seems almost completely broken. We see both peaceful and violent expressions of frustration with the way things are in the U.S. from both sides, demonstrating that the American public just doesn’t trust our government anymore. And we have to find solutions to these issues all the while dealing with the worst pandemic in a century.
Anxious Times
There is no sugar coating it, 2020 plain sucks. Many people are feeling more anxious and depressed than ever before. Just look at Dak Prescott, the star Quarterback of America’s Team the Dallas Cowboys. He boldly and gracefully said what a lot of people are thinking right now. The current state of the country and world, as well a losing his brother to suicide, have had him feeling so down that he didn’t even want to think about football for some time. Even Captain America, Chris Evans, almost couldn’t do the movie due to crippling anxiety. As someone who works in healthcare, I can feel and hear the stress of many of my coworkers. As a musician, I feel horrible for all of those in the business who no longer have an income from their livelihood. Not to mention the joy that live music brings to people’s lives.
That is why I think that there is no more important time in our history than now for us to really start making time for meditation. To be clear, I am not talking about prayer, which is very different (I can say that after 16 years of Catholic School education). And I am not talking about anything religious either. I am speaking of just sitting, or lying down, with only your mind and maybe some background music, paying attention to your breath. It seems like the easiest thing in the world to do, but in fact may be one of the most challenging. Just ask anyone who is beginning meditation. Like learning the violin, I have never heard anyone say, “It was really easy, I picked it up the first time.” I believe that we need to meditate now more than ever because it allows us to slow down and see with more clarity. When you really see into humanity, we are all suffering. We are suffering from loss, death, illness, tragedy, or financial insecurity. We are suffering from fear, uncertainty, hopelessness, and anxieties. This suffering may be the one thing that binds us universally as a human race. You just really can’t avoid it, whether you are Black or White, Democrat or Republican, Protestor or Police. At some point we will all suffer.
I guess my inspiration to take meditation more seriously now came after I read the book that came out earlier this year titled The Buddhist on Death Row. It captures the true story of a black man, Jarvis Jay Master, who has been wrongly accused of a crime, and has been sitting on death row for decades. Many of those years he spent in the hole in complete isolation. Yet, rather than turn angry and vindictive, he slowly turned to meditation. With the help of mentors, he learned to slow his thoughts, generate compassion, and see more clearly. For decades now, Jarvis had dedicated his life to helping other young inmates develop the technique, turning to peace rather than violence. He even developed close relationships with the guards who he once looked at as an evil representation of the system, simply by having compassion and seeing that just like him, all they wanted to do was be happy with their families.
Products of Concrete Slabs
Death Row
I am not saying that evil does not exist or that there is no right or wrong, and I am definitely no master of meditation. I do know, however, that it has helped me and countless humans over centuries to achieve a more peaceful mindset. To see the neighbor with the MAGA or Biden sign not as someone who is evil, but simply a product of their environment. If we can develop more compassion for one another, and slow down the narrative in our heads about our constructed identities, we can see that most of us are just humans who want to be happy with our friends and family. And most of us, even the NFL’s elite players, experience some sort of suffering. The only way out of these times, for better or worse, is to work together. The sooner we can learn the notion that each of us is connected and when I hurt you I hurt myself, the quicker we will be able to have a dialogue and move towards a better present. We are going to need to in order to solve these challenges currently presented to us. I firmly believe that the best thing each of us and our families can do is to start with 10 minutes a day of being with your own mind. There has never been a better time and there is definitely no excuse. If Jarvis Jay Master can find peace, compassion, and joy from a concrete slab on Death Row, we can do the same.
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Curated by Mary Ann Gilbreth, Ed.D., Department of Teacher Education, Educational Leadership and Policy, at the University of New Mexico. This collections includes the work of her students from several of her Reading Methods Classes, promoting cultural diversity in the classroom.
