“Happy the eyes that can close.”
These are the ending words of the last sentence of the first chapter of Cry, The Beloved Country. I have had this book on my shelf for some time- last summer actually, and am just now at a place where I think I am capable of reading about this land of Africa. The book is set in late 40’s early 50’s South Africa. It follows a priest on his journey, leaving behind his wife, in search of a wayward sister, brother and son. That is as far as I have gone…so far.
What struck me last night, reading in my favorite chair (a gift from one of my favorite former housemates who lives in Wisconsin…yay CW) was I don’t know how well I have slept in the last couple of days…two weeks really. I am uncertain of my own role is to play in the racist law recently passed in Arizona, but I know that I am disturbed. I am disturbed because I think of the men that I was working with in Phoenix two summers ago, the kids I was playing with, my friend who I went on a lark with to Mexico for a fantastic one day trip. All the raspados I had that summer…There were so many phenomenal points in which I was challenged as a person who lives with others in a global community.
I think one of the more disturbing trends is that I am unclear how people who don’t see immigration through the same lens that I do are able to justify their position with their faith…how is that reconcilable. (Please let me be clear- I am not asking for these positions to be made clear on this blog!)
I wonder how many people are not sleeping in Arizona. Is the Governor? Is the Sherriff of Maricopa County- America’s self-appointed toughest sherriff? How many children are afraid to sleep at night? How many children are afraid to wake up because it could be the day that their parents are taken away…or their sibling…or their grandparents… or neighbors…
Maybe, if I were writing, I would say, “Happy the eyes that can close with peaceful rest.”
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