Blindness

"Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.’ And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man said to him, ‘My teacher, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way."    Mark 10:49-52

Blindness is an almost constant presence in my life here in Palestine/Israel, most obviously and physically apparent in my volunteer placement site at the Helen Keller School for the Visually Impaired in East Jerusalem. Serving around sixty Palestinian students with visual impairment, grades KG-7th grade, it is here at Helen Keller where I have begun to find community-- to truly feel that I have a place here in Palestine. Two months ago I was introduced to these wonderful and beautiful children, and as many of our totally blind children do when crossing an open space, I set out into open and uncertain territory, feeling my way along, grabbing on to what I could, and trying to orient myself in this new world. 

I split my time at the school between English classes, Drama/Music classes, working in the Kindergarten, and working one-on-one with students in Occupational Therapy. The occupational therapy work involves different programs for different kids--tactile activities to help prepare some children for learning Braille, visual stimulation activities, some mobility work, and occasionally daily living skills. Most of the students at the school have partial sight, but a good number of them also have other mental or physical disabilities. I am quite fortunate to get to work with every grade level in some capacity (except 2nd grade) at some point during my week. While it is always tricky to begin a new job, the language barrier, and the fact that I had limited experience working with special ed kids made this a new and complex sort of challenge for me. When I first started at the school, I spoke practically no Arabic, and joked to the kindergarten teachers that I needed to be in their class instead of helping with the class! I am happy to report now that I am building an entire collection of phrases appropriate to working at a primary school, such as "Stop that! Sit down! Read! Come on!" and the endlessly useful "Schway e schway," which translated, means "little by little" or "slowly, slowly." While I say this dozens of times everyday at school to the kids, I also say it to myself-- about the Arabic language, about life here, and about relationships. 

 Of all the fruits of the Spirit, I feel that patience is the one that is being tended the most within me right now. In my search to build relationships and trust with the kids and teachers, I am seeking to adopt a "schway e schway" attitude, and learning more and more to appreciate the small breakthroughs and positive changes with the children. While many of the kids are very open and eager to interact with me (I would be lying if I said that it didn't fill my heart with joy to hear a little excited chorus of "Miss Maa-ree" when I entered a class) most of the kids that I work with one-on-one have specialized health and emotional/mental challenges, and have been much slower in accepting me.  One of the totally blind kindergartners that I work with on tactile activities refused at first to even come with me to work; and when he would come, he grabbed at things haphazardly, and threw things on the floor. Amazingly, though, in the past two weeks, we've had three good sessions; not only has he been more focused, he has also laughed and smiled, and been proud of his own accomplishments and victories. Also, for two days in a row, another child in KG who has extremely fragile health combined with serious challenges trusting new people, has smiled at me. I know it seems small, and simple, but from this child who usually sits sullenly and silently, too tired to hold up his own head, it felt huge- a breakthrough, a gift, a blessing. I must give credit here to the wonderful teachers at Helen Keller for their work with the kids, and who are helping bridge the gap between the kids and this strange American lady who doesn't speak enough Arabic. 

Biblically speaking, blindness not only refers to a physical condition, but also to kinds of spiritual blindness and lack of wisdom. The movement from darkness to light, blindness to sight, is not only a literal miracle of Jesus here in the Holy Lands- it is one of the metaphors through which we as humans describe spiritual awakening, as well as transformational experiences of dawning knowledge. Vision as a metaphor for our mental and spiritual lives runs deep in western culture, to the extent that we have phrases like, "Do you see what I mean?" We are talking about meaning here, ideas, and we use a language of "sight" to express this.  My own desire to come and serve in Palestine had a lot to do with the fact that I had my "eyes opened" to the fact that, to be perfectly honest, my own understanding of the situation in the Middle East was dim, at best. I began to feel pulled to move out of this darkness, and try to adapt a multi-sided, multi-sighted, way of looking at the region.  

So when I say I encounter blindness in my daily life, I am not even primarily referring to my work at a school for the blind. I am talking about the blindness of prejudice and hatred that refuses to practice empathy for the other side, or people willingly remaining in a state of blindness and ignorance to the ugly realities of life here. And before you remind me to remove the beam from my eye before passing judgment on the speck in my brother's, understand that I also implicate myself here. I, like every human, have my own personal blindnesses that cloud my ability to see and comprehend. The beautiful thing about the story of Jesus and the blind man, though, is that it is the faith of the blind man that helps him see. His blindness does not prevent him from calling on the name of the Lord, nor does it prevent him from receiving the call of Jesus, which tells me that I can approach the Lord in spite of my own weaknesses, and lack of ability to "see." From a place of limited vision, I am able to pray for the Lord's help in expanding my perspective, and discerning truth and wisdom when I encounter it. The healing of the faithful man is a story that not only chronicles a miracle, I believe it also echoes of a wider promise God makes to us about moving from blindness into sight, darkness into light: it is enough that we call out to Him, that we ask, that we believe in His faithfulness to awaken us to new truths within our world and within ourselves. 

My teacher, let me see! Help me discern truth, and let me not be afraid to stare directly at it, even when it is unpleasant, or when I am forced to look at things from a different perspective, with a new set of eyes. Let all of us working for peace in this region and in the world search for truth and justice with our whole hearts, guided by you into awareness and light, lest we work fruitlessly in the dark. Amen. 

"And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them." Isaiah 42:16