Missing Significance
I recently started going on long walks around Edinburgh. There are so many beautiful walks. It is easy in the business of life to miss what is around you. Even if you had to walk the bus routes around Edinburgh you would see things you easily have missed if you had driven past them.
About two weeks ago I was walking from Murrayfield to The Shore along the Water of Leith. I was reflecting about life and how it has unfolded over the last couple of years. I was stuck in thought until I came across this memorial.
The memorial was for people who had died of AIDS. It was really idyllic to sit on the bench and listen to the water rushing by. I immediately noticed my mind go to my own experience of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in South Africa.
I remember taking young people around different communities as we explored how the disease was destroying families in South Africa. On one occasion we went into a TB hospital in Kwazulu Natal. I will never forget walking into a room and the stench was so pungent it smelt like something was rotting. However, we decided to still go through the room praying and talking to the people who were there. I eventually came to a man who had lost his legs. They were in bandages, and the nurse said that they were struggling to contain the infection in his legs and therefore they had to be amputated. She said maggots were a constant problem. This was the reason for the smell. I have never felt such sympathy in my life. This person was suffering and my heart shattered.
I remember walking through the townships and hearing the stories of young children who had been orphaned by the disease. South Africa felt the grip of this disease and it ravished communities.
My two frames of reference for the disease (if I am honest) was stereotyped into two boxes. In South Africa it was a hetrosexual disease spread amongst black communities. It was caused because of infidelity. In the rest of the world it was a gay disease spread by homosexual behaviour. I never thought it was a punishment from God but, I did think that it was a consequence of a lack of morals. I am ashamed that I stereotyped people in this way. It was racist and homophobic.
I walked away from the memorial not realising that my understanding of HIV/AIDS was only part of the international story. Edinburgh also had it is own history with the disease. It was only when I heard Richard Holloway describe the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Edinburgh (in his book "Leaving Alexandria") did I understand more of what the memorial represented.
Edinburgh was the HIV/AIDS capital of Europe. This statistic was not because of sexual transmission but was because of the drug scene. The sharing of needles lead to the spread of the disease.
Now I realise it is easy to say again that this is a result of a lack of piety. We could go down that road but what good does that do? Does it embrace the pain of those who suffered? Does it restore the brokenness in the world?
As I look back on the memorial now, I realise a simple thing. Often when we sit and reflect on something we each come with our own reference points. We come with our own understandings and meanings to events. As I sat at the memorial I thought of my upbringing. I missed the fact that people in Edinburgh had their own experience of the disease. They had their own stories. My story was not the dominant story nor was it the only story. It was part of a larger conversation of stories.
I guess what I am trying to say is that it is easy to assume sole significance on an event or situation. However, we need a conversation to get a bigger picture. We need a conversation with those around us. We need to share our stories and learn from our neighbour. But, this also needs to be a conversation with what has come before us.
Context is multilayered. It requires multiple people involved in the constant process of defining it and understanding it. I think what I take out of this experience is that I need to put my understandings of the world in conversation with others. I need to expand my understandings by allowing others to contribute to them. Only then will I have a deeper contextual reference point in which to engage with the world.
About two weeks ago I was walking from Murrayfield to The Shore along the Water of Leith. I was reflecting about life and how it has unfolded over the last couple of years. I was stuck in thought until I came across this memorial.
The memorial was for people who had died of AIDS. It was really idyllic to sit on the bench and listen to the water rushing by. I immediately noticed my mind go to my own experience of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in South Africa.
I remember taking young people around different communities as we explored how the disease was destroying families in South Africa. On one occasion we went into a TB hospital in Kwazulu Natal. I will never forget walking into a room and the stench was so pungent it smelt like something was rotting. However, we decided to still go through the room praying and talking to the people who were there. I eventually came to a man who had lost his legs. They were in bandages, and the nurse said that they were struggling to contain the infection in his legs and therefore they had to be amputated. She said maggots were a constant problem. This was the reason for the smell. I have never felt such sympathy in my life. This person was suffering and my heart shattered.I remember walking through the townships and hearing the stories of young children who had been orphaned by the disease. South Africa felt the grip of this disease and it ravished communities.
My two frames of reference for the disease (if I am honest) was stereotyped into two boxes. In South Africa it was a hetrosexual disease spread amongst black communities. It was caused because of infidelity. In the rest of the world it was a gay disease spread by homosexual behaviour. I never thought it was a punishment from God but, I did think that it was a consequence of a lack of morals. I am ashamed that I stereotyped people in this way. It was racist and homophobic.
I walked away from the memorial not realising that my understanding of HIV/AIDS was only part of the international story. Edinburgh also had it is own history with the disease. It was only when I heard Richard Holloway describe the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Edinburgh (in his book "Leaving Alexandria") did I understand more of what the memorial represented.Edinburgh was the HIV/AIDS capital of Europe. This statistic was not because of sexual transmission but was because of the drug scene. The sharing of needles lead to the spread of the disease.
Now I realise it is easy to say again that this is a result of a lack of piety. We could go down that road but what good does that do? Does it embrace the pain of those who suffered? Does it restore the brokenness in the world?
As I look back on the memorial now, I realise a simple thing. Often when we sit and reflect on something we each come with our own reference points. We come with our own understandings and meanings to events. As I sat at the memorial I thought of my upbringing. I missed the fact that people in Edinburgh had their own experience of the disease. They had their own stories. My story was not the dominant story nor was it the only story. It was part of a larger conversation of stories.
I guess what I am trying to say is that it is easy to assume sole significance on an event or situation. However, we need a conversation to get a bigger picture. We need a conversation with those around us. We need to share our stories and learn from our neighbour. But, this also needs to be a conversation with what has come before us.
Context is multilayered. It requires multiple people involved in the constant process of defining it and understanding it. I think what I take out of this experience is that I need to put my understandings of the world in conversation with others. I need to expand my understandings by allowing others to contribute to them. Only then will I have a deeper contextual reference point in which to engage with the world.
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