Continued from Tuesday, day 70...
Two weeks later …
Leonor: I had gone to work that day like I did everyday, but the morning dragged on with free-floating anxiety. Just before midday my co-worker reminded me it was almost twelve o’clock and time to get going. There was to be a huge demonstration that day. I grabbed by knapsack and walked toward the subway station wondering: “How will it go?”… “How will I react?”… “What will happen?”… “What will they do to us? … “Will they hit us?” I was afraid. I met my companions and after agreeing on a strategy we walked towards the place where “they” were waiting. The banner under which I stood accused Chavez of being a dictator. I don’t remember exactly what it said; I was trying to concentrate and stay focused.
And then I heard the other voice, obviously aimed at me: “You are full of hatred, I can tell by your eyes … I am afraid of that look… the devil is in your gaze… witch, witch!” I just said nothing, stood frozen and one thought bounced in my consciousness, “We are one, we are one.”
I cannot say with precision what happened a few moments later. I only know that our eyes met and locked for what seemed like a very long time - both of us conscious of our strength, our loyalty to our mission, our position and rightness. Both she and I stood there in silence, without budging, rooted to the cement ground. Then, seemingly without a thought, my hand moved and to my astounded eyes went towards her hand. Electricity cross-crossed the air as both our eyes filled with tears while my chest and face flooded with a strange warmth. From behind me, our group started to sing the national anthem to the chorus of their whistles and horrible insults which I could not decipher. Something suddenly shifted, and one of those miracles of nonviolence occurred: as we winded down our singing, theirs began. We joined them and for a few, though intense, moments our voices rose as a single sound, honoring our motherland. I felt her fingers touch my hand and my eyes touched hers in recognition: we are one.
We turned and amidst a raging crowd and under police protection left the site.
Months have elapsed and I give thanks for having lived this possibility. John Dear, a nonviolence practitioner, says that the moment we define ourselves as “we” and “they,” we have created the enemy. Now I know this to be true. That day, standing across each other, we were divided, physically and spiritually, as enemies. What that woman saw in me were years of indolence, of indifference to a suffering which I did not care to investigate or imagine - years of passive violence which I nourished in my ignorance. I thank that woman for helping me become aware of an aspect of my violence and reinforcing my motivation to embrace the path of active nonviolence wholeheartedly.
From Engage: Exploring Nonviolent Living (Session 6: Seeing What's Hidden) page 100-101.
