Lemkin's House

Last night, the conference participants were treated to a viewing of an incredible play by a New York playwright, which has been translated into Bosnian. The play was performed at the National Theater, which is an incredible building and a cultural center for the country. The play had English "subtitles" but unfortunately they were not always synced up with the words spoke by the actors. Nevertheless the play was incredibly powerful.

Raphael Lemkin was a pioneer in the field of genocide, as he actually coined the term "genocide" and he was a massive force to be reckoned with in terms of pushing the signing of the international laws against genocide. His parents were killed in the Holocaust and he spent his life fighting against genocide in all its different incarnations.

The premise of the play was that Lemkin is a ghost and he is visited at his house by Bosnian and Rwandan genocide victims/perpetrators who beg him to intervene. In the beginning he responds by saying that the law will protect them against genocide, since it was finally ratified by the US in 1988 (following the offensive act by President Reagan of placing a wreath on the graves of SS officers at the cemetery at Bitburg). As the play progresses, it becomes clear that we need more than laws to protect people (one person says a law is only a paper you can wipe your ass with).

In order for people to be safe and protected from genocidal actions, we need people to take a stand and enforce the laws (rather than wiping our asses with them).

The play shows what one person can accomplish, but also that there is still so much work to be done.

Participation in this conference has been incredibly affirmative that I am in the right place, doing the right things (no matter how much I may feel like some kind of strange pariah within my own field of social welfare due to my attention to the topics of sexual violence and genocide).

I feel so grateful that my parents raised me to be compassionate and dedicated to alleviating the suffering of my fellow humans. I was raised to be a social worker and a humanitarian (not on purpose; my parents always supported me in whatever my life goals and professional aspirations have been).

I am grateful to my best friend Leah who has always shown me the right way to be and who is never afraid to speak truth to power. She gives me strength every day I live and breathe on this earth.

I am grateful to my amazing partner Toshi, who struggles with the emotional intensity of my work and yet always tells me how proud he is of me and my work, and how much faith he has in my ability to make a positive change in the world.

My younger brother, Edward, said one sentence to me last year (which erased a lifetime of sibling rivalry): he said "I think you are one of those few people who will really make the world a better place." This confidence in me has catapulted me to a new level of boldness and has allowed me to step outside my own insecurities and give the gifts I have to offer in terms of the knowledge I have gleaned thus far.

The most exciting part of all of this is that I am only just getting started. As Jim Midgley said, "your dissertation isn't your magnum opus; it is your ticket to ride."

I have my ticket, I have boarded the train, and I am so inspired to begin to determine the direction of the train, rather than just blindly riding to the next stop.