MCVERRY - Pessoa Compassiva
MCVERRY - Pessoa Compassiva
MCVERRY - Pessoa Compassiva
Abstract
This paper reflects on three issues. The first is what do we mean by a person of
compassion. Secondly, how do we produce people of compassion. And thirdly, what
are the consequences for ourselves in trying to produce people of compassion.
When using the “see, judge, act” format: first, we have to offer our students the
opportunity for an intensive experience of being with the poor, as Saint Ignatius and
Pope Francis constantly remind us. Second, we have to offer them the opportunity
to reflect on that experience: that requires us to invest time and energy in our own
teachers, so that they will have the commitment to solidarity and that passion for
justice which will enable them to be supportive of the students’ reflection. And third
we have to offer them the opportunity to act on that reflection
Our schools should reflect in their own structures, the solidarity and passion for
justice which we are trying to instil in our pupils. Otherwise our schools will be at
best ineffective, and at worst, a contradiction to what we claim we are trying to
achieve. To produce people of compassion is a challenge, a challenge not just for
our students, but a profound challenge also for ourselves.
A commitment to producing pupils who are compassionate towards the poor and
those on the margins of our societies may have enormous consequences for some
of our educational work. A commitment to producing pupils who are more than
compassionate, pupils who have a passion for building a more just world, and who
are committed to solidarity with the poor, may have radical consequences for some
of our educational work.
In this paper, I want to ask:
• What do we mean by “a compassionate person?”
• How can we educate our pupils to be compassionate persons?
• What are the implications for our educational structures themselves?
My context
I have worked all my life with homeless people. They have totally and radically
changed me, they have challenged my values, revealed to me some of my
prejudices, changed my understanding of God, and changed my relationship with
God. My commitment to people on the margins of society arose when I went to live
and work in the Inner City of Dublin in 1974, then the most deprived community in
the whole of Ireland.
I would like to reflect on why this might be so. I would use the experience of
one young man from a financially comfortable family who was studying in one of our
Jesuit schools in Ireland and who came to our drop-in centre for homeless people for
two weeks ‘social experience.’ He was one of many students, 15 or 16 years old,
some from a very privileged background, who spend a week or two in our drop-in
centre for homeless people and drug users. The core of the week is listening to the
stories of homeless people and talking to them. Even in a week, they develop
friendships and get behind the label, “homeless person,” “drug addict,” and meet the
real person. Some of them describe it, at the time, as a life-changing experience.
But I would like to read a report which was written by this particular student,
two years later.
“On the first day, to be honest, I was a bit scared. There were people I wasn’t
used to meeting or talking to everywhere I looked; people with deep scars on their
faces, torn clothes, worn shoes without soles and carrying sleeping bags from the
night before. They looked rough.
As we sat there, we all started chatting, and I changed. I saw how open,
friendly and accommodating they all were. We were, after all, a pair of South side
‘poshies’ (Irish slang for ‘wealthy lifestyle’) intruding on them. Within one minute,
they had a cup of tea ready for us and were including us in their conversations and
telling us stories.
We began asking Mark (one of the homeless men) about his past and he told
us how he’d become involved in a gang when he was sixteen after leaving school
early. His parents had neglected him, he came home to an empty house a lot of the
time. Gradually Mark stopped taking care of himself and developed bad habits.
When he spoke of his mother, he broke into tears. He said he’d not seen her in
years and that when he texted her to say ‘Happy birthday’, there was no reply. Over
the course of the hour we spent together, I began to realise that I was just like him.
There was no difference in our individual craving for love, care and acceptance from
others. There was nothing different about our shared desire to be successful and to
‘get on in life’. There was no difference in our values and our beliefs. Unfortunately,
the sad reality was that by even mentioning our respective addresses, we would be
separated, grouped and seen completely differently by society.
I was angry that things had been allowed to get so bad for this group of
people who were so appealing and charming with us. What had happened? A lot of
them had no choice but to live on the streets as home was not a safe place to be for
various reasons. Living on the streets led to other problems like drug abuse, crime
and violence. And when this happened, they were told they were bad people. But
they didn’t deserve to go through life like this. They didn’t want to be abused, or
have to rob or steal in order to survive.
“I argued with all my teachers over the next few weeks incessantly about the
injustice of it all. Finally one of them said: ‘Someday you’ll realise that’s never going
to happen. You’ll calm down in a while.”
“I didn’t like hearing that at all. But I suppose that teacher was right. Over the
next couple of years, I did become more conservative and more protective of my
‘kind’. The radical change of which I dreamed was beaten out of me in a way by that
‘kind’.”
This young man’s story illustrates the steps which are necessary to produce
young people who are compassionate. The first step is to offer them the opportunity
to meet with, and befriend, those who are poor and marginalised. We can show
them videos in class, bring in speakers to the classroom but without an intensive
encounter with poor people, there will be little lasting benefit. The more intense the
experience, the greater the benefit.
This was my own experience, going to live and work in the Inner City of
Dublin. In the 1970s, people there lived in the most appalling slum housing, 80%
were unemployed and children were leaving school at the age of 12, at the latest.
My involvement with young homeless people began when I came across a young
boy, aged 9, sleeping rough. What horrified me was not just the conditions that
people lived in, but the fact that I had been living in Dublin for many years and I had
been totally unaware that people lived in such conditions, just a few minutes’ walk
from the city centre. The experience of those few years totally changed my life, my
values and my attitudes.
“I often refer to a letter of Father Pedro Arrupe, who had been General of the
Society of Jesus. It was a letter directed to the Centros de Investigación y Acción
Social (CIAS). In this letter Father Arrupe spoke of poverty and said that some time
of real contact with the poor is necessary.”
“This is really very important to me,” he went on to say, “the need to become
acquainted with reality by experience, to spend time walking on the periphery in
order really to become acquainted with the reality and life – experiences of people. If
this does not happen we then run the risk of being abstract ideologists or
fundamentalists, which is not healthy.”
The first question then for most of our educational institutions is how we can
provide our students with an insertion experience where they can encounter and
befriend people who are poor and marginalised. Such an experience cannot be just
one experience amongst many others which we offer to our students: it has to be
the experience to which we attach the most importance and significance. Without a
willingness on the part of a student to commit themselves to such an experience, we
should question whether they should be accepted by our educational institutions.
However, experience on its own is a necessary but not sufficient condition for
creating students who are compassionate. That experience must be reflected upon,
It is easy for the school to send students out on an exposure experience. The
structured reflection is, in my experience, a problem that some of our schools fail to
offer or only offer inadequately. Reflection on their experiences of poverty and
exclusion must involve reflection on the national and international structures which
create and maintain poverty, inequality and exclusion. This involves reflecting on,
and challenging, those very structures which may maintain some of our students and
their families in their quality of life and status in society. This may pose huge
conflicts within the student and between the student and their family, if their family do
not also share a commitment to challenging structures.
“It is difficult to get a person to understand something when their salary
depends on their not understanding it.1”
Unless the principal, teachers and staff in the school all share the same
perspective, then what happened to this student above will almost certainly repeat
itself. The teachers in that school were unable to support him in reflecting on his
experience because they had a totally different mindset; indeed they poured cold
water on it.
To enable such reflection within the student and amongst the student
population, in a way that allows them to cope with the tensions involved, requires
teachers who have themselves already reflected upon the structures. No doubt the
teachers in this student’s school were people of compassion. But compassion is not
enough. To enable and encourage the students to reflect on their experiences, the
staff in the school must share the same passion for justice and for the poor. Hence
to create students who have a passion for justice and for the poor, we have to
develop teachers who have the same passion.
And therefore they, too, must have had, or be willing to have, an intense
experience of the poor and an openness to reflecting on that experience. What
applies to our students also applies to our teachers. It is not sufficient that our
teachers be competent in their field of expertise, nor that they be good teachers. To
1
Upton Sinclair, I, Candidate for Governor: And How I Got Licked
If we produce pupils who have an experience of being with the poor, and if
they have been facilitated by the school in reflecting on that experience, then they
must take action. To be effective, action must come, not from a sense of charity, or
compassion, but from a sense of justice or solidarity. They must go beyond
compassion to solidarity.
Secondly, our response to the suffering of others is chosen not by us, but by
those who suffer. Solidarity is a radical commitment to do whatever is required to
alleviate their suffering, at whatever cost to ourselves. Thus our compassion for
those who are homeless may bring us to donate generously to an appeal for funding,
which will do a lot of good and alleviate a lot of suffering, but we may at the same
time oppose the construction of a hostel for homeless people as being inappropriate
for our neighbourhood. Our solidarity with those who are homeless, however, may
compel us to support such a project, if it is in the interests of homeless people,
despite the cost (real or imagined) to ourselves, or to our property values. Solidarity
compels us to support policies in favour of the poor which may be detrimental to our
own interests.
He became convinced that solidarity of the poor and with the poor is the path
to justice and peace:
“The solidarity which we propose is the path to peace and at the same
time to development”3.
Indeed, it may not be too much to say that a commitment to solidarity with the
poor is a defining characteristic of the follower of Jesus and therefore a central
component of evangelization.
2
Solicitudo Rei Socialis, No 48
3
Solicitudo Rei Socialis, No 39
4
On Human work, No 8
5
The Joy of the Gospel No. 187
6
The Joy of the Gospel No. 189
Their solidarity with the poor cannot be a commitment that will only be
expressed in action at a later stage of their career, after they have left the
educational centre. To postpone it is to kill it.
If the school is committed to ensuring that its pupils will express their solidarity
with the poor, then this may change the very nature of the school itself and its
function within the educational structure of the society of which it is a part. The
school itself must support their commitment to action, or at least not contradict it.
The school itself must be a witness to the compassion and solidarity of Christ and
the Church. It must be, or become, a school of solidarity itself. We cannot just tell
people to be compassionate – the very structures within which we educate them
must also reflect the compassion and solidarity which we preach. We cannot divorce
their educational experience from the actions which they undertake in response to
their experience and reflection.
How can we take privileged children, put them together in a classroom, give
them a privileged education and expect them to develop a solidarity with the poor?
Theoretically, this cannot work and in my experience, it does not work in practice,
although, of course, there are individual exceptions which can be used to justify what
we do.