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Project President John Graham writes from two conferences held last August at the Caux Mountain House, a conference center above Lake Geneva operated by Initiatives of Change. “IC” is a global peacebuilding group with a 60-year track record of quietly helping solve some of the worst conflicts in the world. |
August
18, 2004 Not much time to write, but I just did a very exciting “Visioning” workshop. Only it was no exercise. It was for real. The subject was the war in the Sudan, and Sudanese from the various factions were in the room. As part of the workshop, I role-played a corrupt Northern politician hiding a racist attitude toward Southerners, and then a timid Southern newspaper editor who refused to use his paper as a vehicle for ending the wars. Participants had to “get through” to the characters I played, with the other 30 or so people in the room judging whether they were succeeding or not. Initially, of course, it was chaos. But gradually the parties saw the value of taking risks to build trust, and to honestly look for common ground. It was intense, fascinating—and the results may have real-world consequences. Now I've got to write the closing address for this conference. John August
19, 2004
My name is John Graham and I am from the United States. I’ve been asked to come up here to offer inspiring words. I trust I can do that. But I must tell you that from early this morning I find that all I really want to say is: Thank you.
It’s not for me to inspire you. Thank you for inspiring me, with your courage and compassion and commitment in the face of challenges that are enormous. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being who you are, and for doing what you do. I am a convert to this work. I know it must amaze some of you to learn that I was not always on the side of the angels. As a young man, the only thing I cared about was adventure. I was a Foreign Service Officer in the U.S. Department of State for fifteen years. Most of my work involved wars, revolutions and arms sales. In 1971 I went to the war in Vietnam, even though I thought America’s cause there was stupid and hopeless. I went there because of the adventure. But people were living or dying because of what I did there. In April 1972, I was in Hué, a city in the far north of what was then South Vietnam. The North Vietnamese army had surrounded the city on three sides. U.S. warships sent artillery shells over my head into the advancing enemy troops. Bombers flew so low that I could see the faces of the pilots. Looters had just burned the marketplace and a blanket of smoke covered the city. There were 250,000 panicked refugees choking the streets. It was my job to try to restore order in the city, so I set up a firing squad to stop the looting. And somewhere in the middle of all this chaos I realized I didn’t care who won. I was overwhelmed by the utter irresponsibility and shallowness of my life then. And that night began a long process of change. Seven years later I was assigned to the US Mission to the United Nations. There I worked on issues of human rights and social justice. I helped end apartheid. That work made my heart sing. It was also the greatest adventure of my life. For the last 22 years I’ve been Executive Director, then President, of the Giraffe Project, an international organization that moves people to stick their necks out—to take risks—for the common good. Our strategy is very simple. We find and honor people who are acting with courage and compassion to solve significant public problems and we tell their stories on television and radio, and in newspapers and magazines and in schools. |
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To date we’ve honored almost 1,000 people from forty countries. Others hear or see the stories of these “Giraffes” and are moved to take action too, on issues important to them. I have the best job in the world. I work with people like you all day long—many of the Giraffes we honor are peacemakers. In 22 years, I have learned much from them. I want to share one thought from Giraffes about peacemaking. That one thought is to appreciate the power of joy. How can this man speak of joy when there is so much suffering and injustice in the world? My wife Ann, when I told her I wanted to talk to you about joy, said in an email last night, "Be careful not to come across as an earnest, idealistic American.” Actually that’s not quite truthful. She said, “Be careful not to come across as a silly American.” I will take the risk. Joy is a common element of Giraffes. It is not some kind of naïve idealism in them. Most of them know joy is important because it smoothes the way for creativity and power. In my words it is the grease, the lubricant, for God’s work to flow. I’m not suggesting that you ignore the dismal facts, such as the massacre in Burundi last week. I’m not suggesting that you ignore the pain. I’m not suggesting there is no need to grieve. But I’m saying from experience that if you burden your work with sadness and frustration, it becomes much harder. You risk burning out. You risk missing opportunities. Take the work very seriously, but reflect an essential lightness at the core of your being. Joy is a sure sign of the presence of God. What’s left for us now, after this week? After creating the space for peace, the challenge now surely is to step into it, to take action as peacemakers. For some, the challenge is stepping further into a space already created, in Israel, and Palestine, in the Great Lakes region of East Africa, in Sudan, Nagaland, Sierra Leone, Liberia… For others of you, the exact direction for this step may not be clear. If that’s true for you, then ask:
In any case, don’t let lack of clarity become an excuse for inaction. So whether it’s a further move in a project already underway, or a new challenge—step into the space. Of
course there are risks. There’s an old saying: “It is very dangerous to try to leap a canyon in two leaps.” Sometimes you just have to take the risks, to stick your neck out, and go. Step into the space. It doesn’t have to be a huge issue, like peace in the Middle East. It can be something small and quiet and local, but something where you and your resources and skills and heart can make a difference. All of it builds peace in the world. Step into the space; accept the pain and the suffering you see but keep the essential joy in your being. Step into the space because you are not alone. And you have just gained 400 new allies. Step into the space because with every outrage and setback there is also hope. You saw again this week that trust can be built in the most difficult of situations and that hearts can be opened. Step into the space. In my experience the key to a meaningful life is about finding the opportunities where you can be of service, and then acting on them. Step into the space because the only real mistake you can make is to ignore this search for meaning, to settle for an ordinary life, to grow up and live and die without ever having made a difference. Step into the space because that commitment can produce a level of power and passion in your life you may have rarely felt, that some people never feel. And once you’ve made that step you can’t pretend you haven’t; it’s like learning to swim. Step into the space because in doing so you must reach into that very deepest part of you, the part where you and God meet, and there you say, “Yes, this is my issue, my challenge. I will take it on. I will walk this path and I will walk it with courage and caring and joy. I will make my life as important as it is meant to be. |
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