Brave New Voices, Part 2

Grace Larkin
English PEN
London, England

Professor Carranza once said something in class that I wrote down and which has remained with me since: “Lunch matters.” This was the context: he was meeting in Liberia with women who had survived violations committed during the country’s long episodes of armed conflict. They were discussing reparations. When they broke for lunch, he ate with them. The meal was modest: fish and rice served communally in plastic basins.

“Food was as scarce as jobs right after the war,” he told us. “Justice in terms of setting up courts and punishing people wasn’t the most important goal for many Liberians. Finding the means to eat and survive was.”

Human rights work is often most important on the personal, human level rather than the political or legal levels. Supporting and simply listening to people who have been victims of human rights abuses matters.

I thought about “lunch matters” a lot while working on Brave New Voices and talking to the students after. This is not a program on the scale of the large translation grant or campaigning for freedom of speech, but it’s a small, meaningful project to help provide young people with a sense of belonging and accomplishment. These young people care about finding a sense of home in London, making friends, getting involved, and establishing a life here.

It gave me a kind of personal happiness that is sometimes absent during campaigning or advocacy work. I felt like the lucky one, being able to hand them the books with their poems printed inside. They were proud of the work they had done. One of the school teachers wrote us afterwards, noting that one young man said it was the best day of his life. You can watch the short animated videos that accompanied the readings here.

There was so much incredible work, but I’ll leave you with one poem that I found particularly moving:

Can You See Me?
by Meron Ambesagi

I learned how to swim this summer. I can open my eyes underwater.

Can you see me?

We had your favourite dinner tonight.

I ate it all up, even though I don’t like carrots.

It’s been 17 years, Daddy.

I started high school in London.

I’m in education now.

I hope you’re proud.

I’m also on the football team.

Can you see me out on the field?

Do you think I can be a pilot?

I know you’ll be with me when I walk down to the shop.

I try not to be sad.

Sometimes the water hurts

my eyes.

Can you see me? //