Conquering Cruelty

This past weekend, I attended a conference on animal welfare. Near the end of the day, a fellow attendee confessed to me that she was tired and discouraged. She had spent the weekend viewing acts of extraordinary human cruelty against animals, and despite the efforts of so many compassionate advocates, she couldn’t imagine that behavior changing in her lifetime.

Her despair reminded me of Larry King’s interview with Ingrid Betancourt, who was recently released after being held as a hostage for seven years in the Colombian jungle. When asked to name the worst thing she had to endure, Betancourt didn’t mention a particular torture tactic, or the long years apart from her family, or the effects of a failed escape attempt. After a long, thoughtful silence, she said the worst thing was “realizing that ... human beings can be so horrible to other human beings.”

Being confronted with the human capacity for cruelty can shake our faith to its core. We recognize that there are limits to our reasoned arguments, our pleas for mercy. When we hit the wall of ultimate indifference, we can only look to ourselves for redemption. Our choice is to surrender, to believe that hatred conquers all, or to affirm a more powerful force that elevates all humanity.

Betancourt has triumphed; against all odds, she has already resolved to forgive her captors. In doing so, she reclaims her power. I hope my fellow animal advocate can redirect her energies from anger against those who do harm, to the larger mission of caring for our fellow creatures. Her heart is greater than the conflict at hand, and the innocents need all of its might.

Wounded and Wiser

I’ve talked before about the unique ability we have to help others heal from pain we’ve experienced ourselves. Those who have suffered, whether from violence or illness or unexpected tragedy, are uniquely qualified to light a path for people who must find their way through a similar forest. We see this every time a crime victim, school dropout or bereaved parent launches an effort to restore justice, engage students or support the grieving.

Larry King recently interviewed Lee Thomas, a TV broadcaster in Detroit who has vitiligo, an incurable disease that is turning his black skin white. You can read the transcript or download the podcast about Thomas’s struggle here. The interview was truly compelling, but what stuck with me was Thomas's assertion that his affliction "has made me the man I always wanted to be." He said he is more understanding, more compassionate. He is in touch with the struggles of others, and with children who have vitiligo in particular. He is using his high media profile to bring much-needed attention and acceptance to a condition that often generates despair.

Similarly, a newly released book, Strong at the Broken Places, profiles ordinary people with various chronic health challenges who are triumphing, emotionally, in the face of great odds. The author, Richard Cohen, has multiple sclerosis and is a colon cancer survivor. The book is giving hope to those who battle illness every day, as well as to those of us with our own "broken places" awaiting transformation.

What are your broken places? What might you offer to others who share a similar experience or challenge? Take a small, initial step and feel the healing begin.