Melissa Finn
If you read nothing else from me this week or month, please read this: I understand that we can trip and fail in our lives, relationships, and in our careers, and I can understand that our lesson from these experiences is to pick ourselves up and defiantly continue (gleaning from the pain further self-knowledge and hard-won wisdom). But, how painful it is to trip and fail because the wall of our support network is nowhere to be leaned on; when, from our very best intention, while seeking to alleviate the suffering of a fellow human being, we are met, in response, with the utter, 99.9% indifference of other people upon whom we are depending for solidarity.
My sole objective last Saturday night was to raise $6500 to help fund the refugee sponsorship application of a Somali woman who was made a refugee in the first place because her family wanted her dead because, at 14 years of age, she refused an arranged marriage with an old man; a woman who has been to hell on earth and back because of her vulnerability, as a woman, to the rapacious violence of men. She is not a nameless, faceless, UNHCR number, another Somali refugee, she is an embodiment of the strength of the primordial woman: this woman probably saved my life twice in Kenya when my vocal protest might have gotten the better of me.
I brought a celebrated local singer into this initiative and we tag teamed to advertise across national radio on CBC, to email churches, to send out personal emails, to pay for FB ads, and to post over 70 posters strategically across 5 cities. It should have been enough. Instead, this effort was met with an inexplicable indifference, a mind-numbing lack of attendance.
Outside of my husband’s best friend and two colleagues (a couple), one person (out of thousands who heard about it) attended our event and we had to cancel it to avoid further expenses. Where is the justice in this? Where is the humanity of my dearest colleagues and friends? Where is the extra steam of people would should otherwise care, but feel that they have ‘done enough’ for refugees? Where is the tolerance and open mind of people who would otherwise have attended the event had it not been advertised as a ‘refugee fundraiser’, but thought that the topic was a Saturday night buzz kill? Where is the love for me, the organizer, and Joni NehRita, the singer? We have friends and acquaintances across this region, and people can’t take it upon themselves to attend for our sakes, even if soul music isn’t their thing, or they haven’t a clue what about the genre? Friends and colleagues, I want you to know that although I still love you, and that my love and support for you, your work, and your own initiatives remains unconditional, I am deeply, deeply disappointed. I fell flat on my face. I put my trust in you, that you cared enough to take the evening off for a cause that mattered to me, and I plunged head-first through the clouds of this illusion and descended to the ground in wild bewilderment. My only comfort is that I tied my camel; its escape was outside my control. Despite the above, I will tell the world, whoever is still reading to this point, my resolve is defiant in the face of this epic fail. If I have to do it completely alone, I will prevail in bringing Amina to Canada.
