Check Your Emotion At The Door

This is what we did in Dadaab. I mean, we had to, in order to get through 8 excruciating interviews a day. In my current case, it's not as easy as that.

My partner and I spent hours outlining and identifying our goals for our client, case and semester at the beginning of this process. One of them was to remain emotionally connected...and removed. We reasoned this by systematically telling ourselves that the only way to remain objective and do our jobs to the best of our ability was to keep a distance emotionally from the stories that were shared with us, the life in Rwanda that was unceremoniously yanked from her in 1994 and the life she rebuilt both in Rwanda before she was forced to flee and now in America, finally finding peace in a very distant land.

But over the past three weeks it's been more difficult than anticipated to keep this distance...distant. From meeting our client's husband briefly for him to pick up papers at school and being greeted with huge hugs 3 weeks after meeting them, to entering their home at least once a week to conduct interviews to allow them to keep their newborn safe and sound so she can grow stronger, to listening to the gruesome details, the nitty gritty ones most recently of the trauma she endured, and being able to look at her, with a shakily controlled voice and honestly tell her what a remarkable, strong, and courageous woman she is has made it hard to keep this emotional distance.

My partner and I have been lucky in the respect that our client is...a dream. She is credible. She has a solid story. She remains, to this day, stoic in the choices she made that lead to her to actually haveing credible fear of returning to her home. She is unapologetic for the fact that she chose to harness her grief, pain and loss into helping other orphans who were in a far worse position than her. After losing the last family member she had, she has remained devoted to making sure that the people who perpetrated crimes that we can barely imagine are properly punished.

And we are lucky because, as we realize more and more each day, we are in the presence of a truly phenomenal woman. There is a remarkable aura of hope in this 22 year old woman. There is a remarkable aura of peace. And forgiveness. She has channeled her devastating past to create a future that is paved in nothing but loveliness. And my partner and I are lucky enough to be present for some of that.

I am not a religious person. I was raised Episcopalian, and find great comfort at times, such as my good friend's wedding at the National Cathedral, in the peace that organized religion can provide. But I am by no means devout. Or even occasionally wistful for my days of weekly church or Sunday school. But I am spiritual, in a way that I can only feel. I believe in fate, in karma, and in being a good person. And I truly believe that the adversity we face makes us stronger and more resilient people if we open ourselves up and allow it to.

One of my favorite books is "By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept" By Paulo Cohelo. He's most well know for the Alchemist, which is a fine book, but not, to me, in the same league as Piedra. I've been thinking a lot about the book in the recent week because of one section. And it makes me think of my client, and really, all of us:

"There is suffering in life....and there is defeat. No one can avoid defeat. That is why
it is better to lose a few battles in the fight for your dreams than to be defeated without
ever knowing what you're fighting for."

And isn't that true? My client has based her life on a fight. The good fight. And lord, has she been defeated. But I cannot emotionally distance myself from her or this case when I open my eyes and realize that she has never, ever, stopped fighting for her dream.

And I begin to feel again how blessed I am to be her representative. And her friend.