We need to work together to make a better world.
My summer job awaited me in Lyon, France the year I graduated from Ohio State, so I thought. I flew into Heathrow Airport, lost my suitcase on the way to Paris, and quit my job within two weeks of arrival. I had planned to stay all summer; I refused to leave. Through someone I met in my hometown, I found another job in Central France, in a small town, Chambon-sur-Lignon.
What I learned in Chambon affected my life forever. Food and lodging came with the work in a “respite” home, where the elderly and those recuperating from illnesses stayed. I peeled potatoes, drove their Citroen to the market for fresh vegetables, and heard stories from the staff and residents.
Two significant memories: One woman told me about her brother’s death by an American bomb during World War II. Another asked me why the US military staged war in Vietnam. Later, when I researched information for a return trip to Chambon, I discovered the people of Chambon had saved up to 5000 children during World War II and the Holocaust.
The humble townspeople never talked with me about their Huguenot faith during the war. They fed me, they encouraged me to monitor a local college class, and treated me as a family member.
In the late 1930s their minister, Andre Trocme, started a school and established boarding houses, predicting a future need. The townspeople and nearby farmers sheltered the children who arrived with nothing but a note from their parents saying, “take care of my child.” They welcomed the children and others fleeing the death chambers. The inhabitants had a saying, “Put another potato in the pot.” Their minister “disappeared,” but four weeks later, without comment, the Germans sent him back to Chambon from an internment camp.
When I was there long after the Holocaust, I asked why they hid the children from the “gendarmes” who might send them to the gas chambers or nearby prisons, they responded, “It was the right thing to do.” They were Christians, but most of the children and adults were Jewish. Humane treatment in a time of absolute fear.
I cannot explain the inhumanity of some people. I think war should never happen. We used to be proud Americans. The world watches while some refuse to wear masks to protect each other. I’m sad how nasty politics are, yet I cannot justify supporting leaders who do not follow medical safety guidelines.
How can we support people who tell lies? Some of our leaders seek power rather than create plans to bring us together. Our treatment of others must improve.
Knocking down statues doesn’t make us better individuals or bring internal change of heart in my opinion. How can we convince the biased department manager who wants “no more resumes with strange last names” when a candidate meets the job qualifications?
Today offers opportunity to show the world our moral principles with our tenacity to walk and work together. We must develop authentic love in our hearts. It is “the right thing to do.” It requires major plans from politicians who care to pass laws that make sense for keeping order. We must learn to filter our words about disabled people, people of color, people who different. We must put away the Aunt Jemima cookie jar, formerly filled with oatmeal cookies. We must look for ways to contribute to making a better world. Judging others, whether white, black, yellow, or green is not acceptable. It’s hard to break those habits.
We don’t need bullets; we need to use our brains to determine the things we say that are hurtful, the things we do that are just flat wrong, like racial profiling. The statistics show a higher percent of minorities commit the crimes. But is this true? How many privileged whites have taken advantage of the poor. The banks? The furniture stores? The poor quality of education in some communities because of people who don’t care? It has to change. It’s not just the white folks, but all of us who must pull together. Let’s recognize the opportunities coming to light the way.
I’ve studied the Holocaust era and can’t fathom killing the Jews. I can’t fathom people owning slaves and punishing them with whips (see the movie Harriet about Harriet Tubman). I cannot grasp the mother who fears for her black child when he drives across town. Or the father who worries that his son may get shot by gangs or thugs. I can’t understand hiring people to lead our country, only to belittle and remove them for differing opinions.
The world is watching us. We’ve gone downhill fast with our pulling out of WHO and denigration of other ethnicities. Don’t buy into ugly rhetoric. Think of the humble people in the small town of Chambon, who continue to look at their shoes rather than raising their voices about their successes. It’s complex, and it’s not. But justice needs to prevail.
Let’s DO THE RIGHT THING. Be kind. Be wise. Move forward on a daily basis, whether with baby steps or giant strides.
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Ruth Glover, author of Gift of the Suitcase, is a freelance writer.
Photo of “Les Genets,” Maison de Repos by T. Glover on the return trip to Chambon-sur-Lignon.