Accompanist

Juan Carlos works in the non-profit sector and calls himself a “wounded Roman Catholic.” He is also a mystic, a Peruvian, a father, a husband, a Buddhist, and an “accompanist.” It’s that last identity about which we talked today. He led the meditation at the Lights For Liberty event on July 12, and immediately after that event I wrote to all who had served on the program, asking their recommendations for our “next steps” as a community. Some are saying we need to pull together a million-person march on Washington. Some say we need to take “drastic action to stop Fascism,” although what that means is so far unclear to me. Some want to see action locally. Some want to work through legislative channels. Juan Carlos wrote simply, “Let’s meet for tea and talk about it.”

He says we need to develop mutual relationships of friendship and support. He sees that white, English-speaking, relatively comfortable communities are cut off socially from the people most endangered by immigration policy. There are good reasons why undocumented people don’t trust “white saviors” who assume superiority and dominance and why people with political and economic privilege lack access to the vitality, joy, and resilience of immigrant communities. So Juan Carlos recommends a slow process, a years-long process of becoming acquainted with each other, communicating with each other (through art and music), and learning to accompany each other through a process of “mutual discernment.” If we get to know each other's children and grandchildren, if we grieve together and celebrate together, we will build a "deeply-rooted revolution," he says. Makes perfect sense to me.

He says it is difficult to bring people of different cultures together without the shadow of dominance and colonization, but it can be done if both parties bring their vulnerabilities to the meeting; if their purpose is to accompany each other through what lies ahead, to learn together. 

We will meet again to continue exploring.

It’s Monday, so I met Margie before I met Juan Carlos, and Margie talked about the importance of not waiting till some future time to tell people we love them. She had a couple of stories to tell me, to illustrate this point. Poignant, powerful stories.

I feel the privilege of these conversations and try to recall what each said, their expressions and intonations as they talked. I jot down phrases in a notebook, trying to hold onto the ephemeral moments. I come home to lie down, still recovering from another fierce migraine that lasted most of the weekend.