Displacement in Belfast: A Response

It's good to see that temporary emergency accommodation has been made available to the 115 Romanian people displaced in Belfast last night after violent intimidation.  City Church Belfast - in whose cafe I spent much of the past few years - had provided shelter in the immediate aftermath; local government has now stepped in to allow breathing space for the families to decide what they want to do next.  Many seem to want to return to Romania, and who could blame them?  They've had a terrifying experience. Lots of northern Irish people have shared the experience of displacement - I know something of this from the inside, having had to move house as a child for reasons of safety.  The paradox is that while the communal memory of displacement may increase empathy for its newest victims, it may also mean that we take it less seriously than we should: it seems too much like 'business as usual', and so many of us may let it pass with only a wince and a conversation.  Most of us don't actually do anything about it - partly because we have seen it so often before that we feel disempowered; partly because we can blame it on a small minority (who are of course, directly responsible; but their prejudice is nurtured by social norms that 'the rest of us' have been content to let prevail); and partly because, quite simply, we don't know what to do.

So here's a suggestion:

The recently elected Alliance Party Lord Mayor of Belfast, Naomi Long, a woman with a strong track record in opposing racism and encouraging diversity, should recruit at least one city councillor from each of the parties represented on the council to offer temporary accommodation in their own homes to the families displaced last night.  They should invite their consituents to offer food and employment to the people targeted; and they should organise public gatherings in their various council wards at which long-standing residents can meet their new neighbours.   We northern Irish people are reputed for our hospitality.  The city council could help neutralise the bigotry displayed last night, and that always simmers under the surface for some people, by turning that reputation into a new reality, starting with the most ancient of practices: offering shelter to vulnerable people.

Sometimes He Really Brings It

David Letterman - a man whose talent for serious conversation is so often subsumed by the fact that he is employed as a kind of circus ringmaster, dependent on advertising revenue to stay on the air: he lives in the irony that he only gets to have an audience if he doesn't sound too intelligent - apologised last night for his offensive joke about Sarah Palin's family.  Unequivocal, and evidently with real personal intent.  It's not world peace; but it's a pretty good example of what can happen when powerful people are humble too. See the apology here.  It's a pity the Huffington Post editors felt they needed to indulge in some sour-graping by highlighting how many other people had made jokes about Governor Palin, and how she may be have invited such humor by jokes and set-ups on 'Saturday Night Live' in which she was complicit.  Letterman's apology should be allowed to stand alone.  It's clear, it's truthful, and it deserves a response.

UPDATE: Palin has accepted the apology, and while she makes some meaningful points about respect and dignity, alas she couldn't miss the opportunity to indulge in a bit of sabre-ratlling:

"This is all thanks to our U.S. military men and women putting their lives on the line for us to secure American's right to free speech," she said. "In this case, may that right be used to promote equality and respect."

The use of the military analogy is a pity; instead of taking the high road, accepting the apology on its own terms, and building bridges by - say - appearing on the show, Governor Palin turned it into a subtle attack: everyone who makes coarse jokes is doing so because soldiers are dying for their right to do so.  Enormous existential questions have, as Groucho might say 'gotta be faced before they get us'; but sometimes an apology is just an apology; and accepting an apology is better done without the nationalism and moralising.

The Week Ahead

What I'm up to this week: Monday

Writing

Seeing 'The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3' for The Film Talk.  Not optimistic.  Hanging out with Ched and Elaine. Two of the most interesting and welcoming people I know - if you want to learn how to learn about non-violence as a way of life, or to figure out how to challenge the injustice of an economy that wants to bleed you dry, or even know what surfing is really about (and I'm talking the ocean kind), there's no one better to ask.  Seeing Claire Denis' 'Beau Travail' for TFT.  Somewhat optimistic.

Tuesday

Writing

Recording the next two episodes of TFT

Planning what I'm hoping to share at the retreat this weekend

Seeing the Hitchcock double bill at the Carolina Theatre in Durham - ever since I first saw 'Vertigo' when it was re-released in the mid to late Nineties I've taken every opportunity to watch it projected in a cinema, any cinema.  Carolina Theatre is a quaint and welcoming place with a huge main screen; it's showing this genuine masterpiece about love, revenge, self-esteem and death alongside its natural twin, 'Rear Window' another film in which Jimmy Stewart thinks he knows what's going on until ... well, as some of you haven't had the pleasure yet, I'll leave the spoilers out.

Wednesday

Writing (anyone seeing a theme here?)

Heading to Deerfield, MA to help lead a retreat with the amazing Swami Nicholaes Roosevelt.  We'll be spending three days together with a small group looking at questions of spirituality and practice in the midst of life as we know it, interacting particularly with the Yogic, Quaker and Celtic traditions.  There's still space if you'd like to join us.

Thursday - Sunday

Will be out of contact at the retreat, but will emerge on Sunday night in Nashville where I'll be hoping to get some writing done before another retreat starts on Tuesday.  I guess it's retreat season.  Keep in touch.