Stories of Hope and Home (3)

Once again a significant period of time has elapsed between posts on this subject. Admittedly, in the interim, there was this one I wrote on the project's blog, but while it is still 'me' it has a slightly different feel and nuance to writing here.

But this week is Refugee Week, so it feels like as good a time as any to reflect on where the project is now, not least because, although it officially came into existence last August, and really got underway in October; in many ways, refugee week last year was the beginning of the journey for what was to become Stories of Hope and Home. 

Exactly a year ago, my wonderful class from St Chad's Sanctuary performed a play, courageously sharing their stories with over 400 people. It was exhausting ... and truly, truly amazing. By the end of that day I knew, "more of this!" and Stories of Hope and Home was what came of that conviction. 

I don't think I could have predicted, a year ago, where it would be right now. I mean, to be fair, none of us predicted a global pandemic that would turn all of our lives upside down. None of my early descriptions of what I hoped the project would become included trying to sustain a community entirely online. 

But there are a whole lot of other things that I probably wouldn't have fully predicted either:

A series of successful grant applications which have not only made the project feel sustainable, but have offered external affirmation of the value that is to be found in this project and its aims.

The participation of thirty-five people from twenty-one different nationalities, and the building of a community which, in its diversity of culture, religion, language, age, gender... is a parable for how life can and should be. The building of a community who care deeply about each other but who have remained open and welcoming to newcomers, because they know what it means to be made welcome. 

Having spoken, despite the possibility to do so being cut short in March, to over 450 school students (and their staff) ranging in age from year one to year 13, and in settings including state schools and private ones, mainstream, special education and alternative provision, and to have witnessed some truly transformative conversations taking place.

Pulling off a genuinely wonderful residential trip.

To have produced some utterly beautiful creative writing, digging deep into the depths of the human experience. 

Of course, there are things I probably could have predicted too: I knew we would tell stories and share experiences. I knew that we would share lots of  good food. I knew there would be occasional tears, and lots and lots of laughter. I knew there would be friendship and care for one another. I knew there would be some teaching, but that I would learn more that I taught. I knew I would receive far more than I would give ... I knew the participants would struggle to understand how that is the case.  

Even putting aside global pandemics and other minor disruptions to our plans, the project probably looks quite different to my original disparate ideas of doing 'something' following on from the play. But while it may not look quite how I thought it might, I like what it looks like now.

In other circumstances, we'd almost certainly have been putting on a play this week. That was always a part of the plan. Needless to say, we're not. Does that matter? Does it mean we haven't achieved what we set out to do? No, I don't think it does. Because I really believe we are doing very good things. and, well, now we're here, there's always next year!