From Service to Solidarity

Matt Palkert

At Reiser Heights School, where important lessons are learned each day, God graced us with a beautiful lesson of our own.  There we were outside the school, a half dozen of our best St. Mary’s singers assembled around a keyboard.  Joyce tickled the ivories.  The others sang excellent renditions (really, they were good) of the classics: Amazing Grace, How Great Thou Art, and Morning Has Broken, to name a few.   In the background stretched an incredible vista of Haiti.  Our focus on this mountaintop, however, was children.  In a few moments, school would be let out for the day.  We had just visited each classroom.  Would they now join us outside for an after-school “concert?”

Students trickled out.  Some gave a curious look.  A few little ones made their way over, but most continued down the dirt road toward home.  The music was lovely, but it wasn’t connecting.  We knew it.  

We asked Jonas, our Haitian interpreter and guide, if he could help.  He humbly stepped forward and began singing in Creole with the few children before us.  “Bea Bea!”, he cried out, with a double fist pump to the air.  The children echoed his call and lifted their little fists.  They seemed to know this one.  One of the Reiser Heights staff, Jean, sped off and returned with his drum.  More students poured out of the school.  Not sure at first, they kept a safe distance, but Jonas’ charisma and persistence would win them over. 

What ensued was powerful.  The students came, and in a flurry, a circle was formed.  Jonas called out, “Bea Bea!” and they erupted in response.  The students bounced.  They sang.  They did silly movements (think chicken dance, but much cooler!) Everyone, even the most bashful dancers in our group, was caught up in the beat.  After a few more songs, the singing stopped, and the ice was broken.  We milled about with the students, playing games, laughing, truly connecting.

This experience was so special for us, a mountaintop experience, to be sure.  It was special for many reasons, but mainly because it came from Jonas, Jean, and the students – all from Haiti. We Americans were privileged participants. 

What we were reminded of through this experience is that we ought to exercise caution when we believe we know what is best for others, especially in their home.  Jonas, Jean, and the students knew better than we about what would bring us together.  They knew better, but we know of course that it’s not a competition.  It’s not about who knows better than another.  What it is about is coming together, side-by-side, seeking understanding, deepening relationships, acknowledging our differences and in some cases, celebrating our differences.  The Catholic Church uses a word to describe what we are after – solidarity.  Solidarity is recognizing our interdependence, that what affects one affects the other.  It’s about mutuality, inviting forward the gifts of everyone involved, and in a special way the gifts of the poor, whose gifts are often overlooked even by those seeking to help.  This sounds like the kingdom to me – both here and now and yet to come.  We might say that solidarity is both the journey and the destination.

Fortunately, solidarity is not new to Reiser Relief.  All of its efforts to bring relief to the most impoverished of Haiti happen through partnership.  To see Ann Brau, Mary Welle, and Father Talbot greet our partners in Haiti with such joy and enthusiasm tells you right away that it’s about a relationship that has been built over time.  Since Father Reiser built Reiser Heights over 15 years ago, Reiser Relief and the school leadership have done the hard work of partnership and solidarity.  Thank God for this.  And thank God for using an incredible mountaintop experience to remind us that solidarity is worth the hard work.