The Swahili proverb “One
hand does not nurse a child,” or its Nigerian equivalent “It
takes a whole village to raise a child” both demonstrate the
long held African-American principle that child upbringing
is a community responsibility. At no other time in history,
then, are these ancient proverbs more timely and relevant
than for our situation in today’s America.
This week I present an essay by my friend and colleague,
Froswa’ Booker-Drew, PhD, who reminds us of our historical
obligation to nurture and protect our children, a charge our
fractured community has failed to keep.
Commentary:
We Might Not Have Justice, but We Still Have The Village
by Froswa' Booker-Drew
Our children are not safe, and the village is no longer
paying attention.
In the last few months, there have been endless stories of
young people being violated: the teenage girl being
gang-raped while others watched live on Facebook; the
teenage boy bullied to the point of suicide; the 16-year-old
girl who died following a fight in a high school bathroom;
the stepfather killing the daughter he impregnated; the
teacher who had sex with her former student in her car.
In many of these instances, people were aware, watched and
did absolutely nothing. Co-workers at Dairy Queen knew the
young boy was being bullied; they often joined in. Other
young girls videotaped the bathroom death of the high
schooler but did nothing to help. Several people watched the
Facebook live stream of the girl being raped and many
threatened her life after she reported it.
These young people were not safe in environments where they
should have felt safe, and their lives apparently did not
matter to those who watched them being victimized. A large
part of the problem is that we have become isolated in our
communities. Many of us don't know our neighbors or trust
many people. This limits our circle of support.
Our communities and our children do not thrive when we live
in fear, hide and are isolated from one another. Research
shows the well-being of a community is based on the
connections and relationships that members of the community
have with one another. The work of McMillan & Chavis (1986)
created a framework of multiple elements for having a sense
of community. Communities with actively engaged residents
create a sense of belonging. When we feel connected, valued,
and heard, we experience emotional safety and personal
investment. In our current environment, whether urban or
suburban, there are deficits in many of these areas and our
communities are suffering because of it, especially our
children.
It was not always this way. When I was growing up in
Shreveport, LA, there were many people outside of my family
— teachers, neighbors, and church members — who looked out
for me, made sure I was safe and cared for. They offered
advice (even when I didn’t want it) and intervened when
other children, or even other adults, behaved
inappropriately. Today, many of our young people do not have
reliable safety nets. Community has been sacrificed to our
busy lives, limited conversations, information overload and
unwillingness to get involved. When it comes to the
well-being of our children, we need to reconstitute "the
village."
The village is not just a neighborhood of homes. It is
filled with people of various backgrounds, life experiences
and ages who all want better for their families and
recognize that there is strength in unity. The village
understands that if one succeeds, all succeed; that
collective knowledge and resources are necessary for growth
and support. It is a place of protection, safety and care.
Relational theorists maintain that when the village listens
and welcomes different opinions, those who live there have a
sense of worth, mutual empathy and empowerment, authenticity
and growth-fostering relationships. It isn’t Mayberry and
Andy Griffith isn’t the sheriff, but it is a place where we
work and play together, where we say hello and acknowledge
each other by name. We sometimes grab coffee and just sit
and talk. It’s scary, but we should be willing to take the
risk of building community.
Protecting our children is essential. To change the tide of
abuse, neglect and disconnection, we must return to building
the basic blocks of community, creating spaces where
everyone belongs. It isn’t about whether I like you or not.
It is about respecting the life and dignity of every human
being. We all deserve to be safe and confident that others
will come to our rescue knowing that the next time it may be
them in need. It is a personal investment in our children
and in our communities, something that goes beyond lip
service to ensuring that we are modeling the behavior we’d
like to see in them and in other adults.
I am grateful for the protection from my village, and I’m
glad to be that for my daughter’s friends and the young
people I mentor in my community. All of our children deserve
active, caring, involved participation from the adults in
their lives: mentoring, advocating and teaching our children
compassion. It means changing our mindset from me to we.
Froswa' Booker-Drew, Ph.D.,
is the director of Community Affairs/Strategic Alliances for
the State Fair of Texas and the author of two workbooks for
women. She is a Dallas Public Voices Fellow.
First published by
NewBlackMan (in Exile)
Reprinted with permission of Froswa’ Booker-Drew, PhD
Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, D.Min, at
drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org
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