Words of Welcome

Posted on July 20, 2016

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This was what I saw first. Max Porter’s words of welcome. They are part of a project called #WordsofWelcome run by Reg Meuross.

It made me think.

How would I welcome someone? I hope it would be with an open heart.

As a child I was taught to fear strangers, including people from other lands. As a teenager I learned curiosity, about the lives of others.
As an adult I have learned there are no ‘others’, we are all just people, and that I have so much to learn from people from this land, from other lands, from all cultures.
And now what I fear is hatred.

What would I say? What would my words of welcome be?

I hope I would say, welcome, would you like a drink? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Can I get you something to drink, something to eat?

I hope I would not be too curious to know their story, for fear of what retelling it, reliving it, might bring back to mind. And yet I would want to hear, because I am curious.

And I hope that if they did not know English, the only verbal language I am able to speak, I could find a way to communicate through images, gestures, and maybe I could learn some of their words as they too learn mine. And maybe we could share food, and I could cook for them and they in turn could cook for me and I could learn new tastes.

And stories, always stories. For I have so much to learn.

Amir Darwish has shown me something of what Aleppo was through his poetry. His poem, Where I come from, should be heard by everyone.

And maybe one day, when there is peace, I could travel to the land where they were born, if they chose to return, and receive a welcome from them there. For as Warsan Shire says, “No one leaves home, unless home is the mouth of a shark”.

 

And what started with Max Porter’s words led me, via Amir Darwish to here: a place of stories. And still my words of welcome sound so frail.

This land is big enough to share, so that all people can find a place of safety.

Please share. And send out words of welcome into the world.

threeharestile

4 responses to “Words of Welcome”

  1. Exactly, Jackie. Thank you for this.

  2. Bernie Bell says:

    When I was a student, some friends of mine had a hand-made sign over their fire-place which said “If you lived here – you’d be home by now”.

    And – a wee tale –
    Years ago I went to Crete for a holiday. I stayed at a small family hotel. I had no Greek, and the Granny of the house had no English, and yet, we’d sit on the balcony, watch the world go by, smile at each other about certain things we saw happening around us – we just – understood each other, somehow. Kindred spirits.
    I’ve managed in quite a few countries without my having the language – smiling and good intent goes a long way.
    It’s easy enough, it really is, just good intent, smiling, not being afraid. Being what folk used to call ‘out-going’ – if you can manage it.

  3. Bernie Bell says:

    And here’s a poem written by Mike:-

    Relativity for Beginners

    If East is East
    And West is West
    Then where, my dear, is here?
    It’s North of South
    And South of North
    And far from nowhere near.

    If Then was Now
    Then tell me how
    Tomorrow never comes?
    And some time soon
    Today has gone
    And the future’s not begun.

    If I to You
    Am you, not me
    Then tell me who are we?
    To them, they’re us
    And we are they
    To us, we’re me and thee.

    So Where and When
    And who you are
    Depends on where you stand
    So take another
    Point- of-view
    And join me hand-in-hand.

    McB

  4. Bernie Bell says:

    Witter, witter, witter
    Like I said about politics – it helps if it starts with a generous attitude when we’re young, at home. It’s harder for folk to learn, if that wasn’t the case, but still possible, with good intent.
    I grew up in Bradford, Yorkshire, from 1955 to 1974. My group of friends included – Me – Irish parents, Mick – father Ukranian – left the Ukraine to avoid the Nazis – Philip – Scots descent, Kundi – Indian, Jani – Malayan, Nina – Malayan, Tony – Indian, and Peter – English!
    That’s a good start for anyone when it comes to accepting people just as people.
    And, you mention food – as a child, birthday parties meant absolutely delicious food of all kinds – especially as a school friend’s Dad ( Polish ) had set up a delicatessen when he, too arrived in Britain, fleeing the Nazis.
    There have been waves and waves across the years, and each wave adds something to the mix.
    And…. music, and….. and….. and……. and……………………
    OK, I’ll stop now. It’s something I feel strongly about.

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