I arrived in Northern Ireland today. An overnight flight to Dublin, a rental car, and a successful three hour route to the north, driving on the left side of the road.
I’ve done that before, but it still feels a little weird. We get used to doing things a certain way. Our way. The right way.
I’m here to meet a group of students and faculty from Willamette University and The Conversation Project at Willamette. We will meet and work and learn (and probably play) at Corrymeela, a reconciliation center that sits on the Antrim Coast, a gloriously rugged stretch of shoreline at about the intersection of the North Atlantic and the Irish Sea.
We are going to talk about belonging and healing and reconciliation and how we navigate the complexities of the world in a way that allows everyone to thrive.
Corrymeela is Northern Ireland’s oldest peace and reconciliation center. They supported the Northern Ireland Peace Process during The Troubles. On their website they say, “In a divided world, we support thousands of people from different backgrounds to live well together.”
Sound familiar?
I’ve known about Corrymeela for a decade. I can’t wait to get there tomorrow and I expect it will feel a little like coming home. My friend (and poet) Padraig O’Tuama was once the director there.
Another friend, Glenn Jordan, was Corrymeela’s Program Manager for Public Theology there until he died unexpectedly in 2020. All three of us were on summer teaching staff together at Holden Village for a couple of seasons and got close quickly in the way that summer camp will allow.
I remember sitting in on one of Glenn’s classes, and I believe the term he used was “The arrogance of small differences.” in reference specifically to Northern Ireland, but more broadly to the human condition. Like, “You might be a Christian, but I’m not sure you’re the right kind of Christian.” Or, “We might both say we love freedom, but you don’t really mean it like I do.” Or “Your shade of brown is a little darker than my own, so we’re going to have to travel in different circles.”
We do that to each other. Northern Ireland has a difficult history and I am looking forward to listening and learning, getting to know the folks from Corrymeela and Willamette, but also, something bigger is stirring.
This work for A Peace of My mind goes in seasons. We were on the road for 2-½ years during the pandemic gathering stories. I spent the next year writing Lessons on the Road to Peace and producing the accompanying exhibit. The last several months have been filled with pushing out the new book and leading storytelling programming across the country.
All good stuff! But I can feel the itch. It’s time to start thinking about gathering new stories again. I’ve always wanted to do an international series. To look at the ways Northern Ireland moved through The Troubles. To explore how Rwanda moved through their genocide. To understand the ways South Africa stepped away from Apartheid. And to see what we can learn.
None of these processes has been perfect. These countries continue to struggle with their legacies of conflict and trauma the same way we still reckon with the historical ramifications of slavery. Which is to say, sometimes poorly. But at times it’s easier to take our lessons from far away. At least it can be more comfortable than staring too closely in the mirror at ourselves, so I think there’s potential in it.
So part of this time in Northern Ireland will be thinking about all those things and what this new work could look like. In the past, an international series has seemed too daunting. The logistics. The cost. The language barrier. But I’m starting to see a path. And by the end of this week, I expect that path will be even more clear.
There’s so much to learn. And so many people doing good work. Stay tuned. This could get interesting.