Cassie Lyles
It was an honor to make the journey to Slovakia with Chris, Christy, Carter, Wil, Meagan, Summer, Rebecca, Katherine, and Emily. I loved getting to know each of them better, and seeing glimpses of God revealed in them. We all grew and we all saw God, sometimes in ways we never imagined.
I saw God in the power of music. Music is part of what drew me to Broadway in the first place. It is the vehicle through which I worship. This was also true of the Roma people we worked with throughout our week. Music commanded respect, communicated love, and crossed all boundaries. It was a valuable experience for me to not be able to participate in the way I normally do because of language barriers. It caused me to have to take a step back and observe which allowed me to see the lovely process of how a guitar and one voice could turn into many voices singing praises. I saw people turn from jeering to receptive to the message because of the undeniable vehicle of music.
Before our arrival, I had some idea of what sort of tension may exist between Slovaks and Roma, and I expected that to be part of the experience. Cultural competency is something that has long been a passion of mine, and it grew into a desire for justice for all people. In my day to day life, I teach students who live in poverty. The work we were doing in Slovakia echoes what I do in my daily life. The children in the crisis center cared for each other the way my students care for their siblings; the kids in the village could have walked right out of my classroom. The growth I experienced on this trip had more to do with making global connections in experiences I already had, but also because something happened to me on a very personal level. I am no stranger to conversations with students about injustices involving race, gender, and class. I have witnessed its impact on their lives, and I try to take action when I can, but I usually escape the sting of injustice towards my own person.
On Wednesday, we stayed with host families. My host family was Roma and had several women my age who embraced me into the fold. I went into a cosmetic store inside the mall with them. They were nicely dressed. We had an adorable young child with us. None of that mattered. As soon as the security guard saw us, he followed us at an extremely uncomfortable distance, inches, not feet. Because they were Roma, he assumed we were going to steal. Dasha, one of the women, turned and said something to him and we left the store. In the corridor of the mall, she asked me if I saw what happened, and if I understood what she said. I asked if it happened often. (All the time.) I asked if it ever made her angry. Of course it made her angry sometimes, but how did she deal with it? She handled injustice and hate with love. Instead of insulting him, she jokingly asked if he would like to finish the rest of the shopping with them as well.
I was inspired by her beautiful example of responding with love while also not allowing the injustice to go unaddressed. As I enter a new school year in a new building, this is an idea I want to carry with me. I hope to address injustice at every turn, but do so lovingly. I will show God’s love instead of giving in to anger or standing by passively.