Eunice's Letter to the Brother who Robber Her (This is deep)

There is not much that separates you and I, is there? We are both made out of the same type of material – you and I bleed, feel hungry, feel joy, feel sadness, and so on. Yet the environments in which you and I have been raised sometimes convince us otherwise. We are human – it seems as though we have to use labels for everything. How else do we process everything we go through in life? So we come up with labels, good and bad – there are so many social constructions of our identities, it’s easy to forget sometimes. You are Tanzanian and I am Chinese-American. You are male and I am female. You made the decision to sprint by and take a mzungu's bag. Let us move on.

You know I’ve been thinking a lot about pride in one’s people and country. Now don’t get me wrong – I do not want to create this false sense of dichotomy between you and I just because we are from different countries. But after conversations with your fellow Tanzanians who work at the UN, I do not sense much pride in the home country. What I drew from my conversations with one particular Tanzanian UN staff is that, things like the condition of a holding cell or robbery are considered normal here – if not normal, at least expected. Why must the norm or the expected be disrespect for our fellow brothers and sisters? If that’s the norm, then I would rather be crazy. “If I’m crazy it’s because I refuse to be crazy in the same way the world’s gone crazy.” (Boolean: Peter Moran of the Catholic Worker movement, and Shane Claiborne) So, as I reference Shane: “Is it crazy to say we should help provide water access for the 1.2 billion people that need it, or is it crazy, like in our churches, we’re debated whether or not we should get a heater for the baptismal while people don’t have water?” Did you know that about America, brother? Did you know that there really is this type of discrepancy on this earth you and I share? It’s quite heartbreaking, isn’t it?

Perhaps we could learn from each other. Perhaps I could learn your story and you could learn mine. I think that’s what Jesus is all about. I think Jesus is all about going out and talking to the people who don’t look like us, speak like us, dress like us, think like us, or live like us. After all, that’s what he did. Even if you have never heard of this Jesus, have you ever heard of anything as crazy as that? Perhaps if we start sharing, – from individual to global and back – then Tuesday night instead of your unsuccessful endeavor to find money, we could have been sharing a meal together. I think that type of situation requires both of our parts, brother. And neither you nor I are perfect – we still have lots to learn and more room to grow. As long as this type of community may be called idealistic or crazy, there will always be more to do. Let’s help each other along.