November/December 2002

"Peace is an Action Verb"

An Interview with F.O.R.'s New National Coordinator, Pat Clark

by Janet Chisholm

Janet Chisholm: Pat, where would you say that your involvement in justice and peace work first began?

Pat Clark: I grew up in a family where my father could not read or write and my mother had not finished school. The lack of formal education created situations where my family was taken advantage of; it kept them in an oppressed status. So as a kid I considered education "The Great Liberator." Now, of course, I realize it's much more complicated. However, I was always cognizant, even in high school, how good grades gave me special access, fed my ego, and made me feel I had something to contribute and that I had a future. At the same time, I was aware that my folks, without formal education, had an extreme wisdom and a commitment to provide for our family. I saw that folks in all stations of life have something to contribute.

I sought and received a scholarship to Smith College, which I had been told was one of the best colleges in the country. I wanted a school that would give me entrees. Of course, I knew that this was only the start, and that once I got to school, I would have to accomplish something there, as well.

JC: Did experiences in a faith tradition play a part in your growing understanding of justice and peace?

PC: I grew up in Woodstown, New Jersey, a small town that was close-knit. Many folks helped me. I was very involved with people in church settings. Once I traveled to Anardako, Oklahoma, with a friend's church high school class to work on a reservation. This was my first opportunity to do what was called "mission work." It was especially thought-provoking for me because my own community had been viewed by some as a mission project.

One friend's family got very involved with Habitat for Humanity. Through her, I became very aware of their work. The Habitat mantras were "co-workers, not caseworkers" and "capital, not charity." Those words resonated with me, and I saw the value of supplying concrete assistance and working in partnership with people. When my friend's mother was writing a book about Habitat, I learned more and more and stayed involved.

A new understanding of "mission work" grew out of my experiences with church members. Habitat is Christian and I saw how it gave individuals ways "to put faith into action."

JC: Going to Smith must have been a significant cultural change. Then you decided to make another cultural change and moved to Africa to live and work with people there. What were the origins of that decision?

PC: Junior year of college, I wanted an opportunity to go to Africa, to get in touch with my roots like other students did. My Habitat friends suggested I go with that program to what was then called Zaire. The summer between junior and senior year of college, my friend's mother raised all the money for me. She wrote about the way it happened in the book Bokotola, in a chapter she called "God's Coincidences." At the last minute, the day before I was to depart, $5 more was needed to cover my expenses; it arrived by chance, just in time, thanks to the generosity of a woman from Mississippi. I began to realize that there are a lot of God's coincidences in life. There is a saying, "When you rely on faith, the questions will be answered and a way will be made."

JC: It seems that folks in your hometown clearly recognized and supported your leadership potential as a young woman. And that you were attentive to the signals, relied on faith, and acted accordingly by going to Zaire. What are some of your insights from that experience?

PC: Initially, I went to Zaire for three months with Habitat for Humanity. I didn't speak French or Lingala, the local language. There was a lot of body and sign language! I was nineteen, and in that setting I was considered to have had a lot of experience. I was immediately accepted as one of their own, and they looked after me. I realized we had things to offer from the United States; and I learned the importance of the gift of presence. The fact we were there with them was more important than anything else we could do.

I went over with ideas about what I would do for these people. Yet I learned from them about a spirit of generosity and care. One person would arrive with an egg or piece of fruit. Sometimes it was all that they had. That they would give whatever they had just to make me feel welcome was overwhelming to me. Living was simple but very, very rich.

When I was ready to leave, they said, "You've hardly had an opportunity to be here." I kept thinking about this. So I decided to go back after college and resolved to learn their language.

JC: And did you learn to speak Lingala?

PC: Yes, I did. Following graduation, in 1979, I returned to Zaire with Habitat for Humanity. My work involved supervising a building crew of 125 men and one woman in Mbandaka, one of the earliest Habitat projects. I also coordinated and worked with women in the village of Ntongo, developing English, sewing, and cooking classes (even though I didn't sew). I came in with my ideas of what they needed; they, however, knew better. They wanted to set up a cooperative store and a women's center. Which is what we did. I worked with them for two and a half years.

At one point, I got very sick with malaria. Old mamas from the village came and sat with me around the clock. "You're our daughter, too," they told me. Later, when my grandmother became ill in the United States, Habitat said they would pay for me to travel back. I was concerned about the amount of money required, yet I knew my family could not pay. "How could we respect you if you didn't do that for your own family, when family is so important to us?" said the villagers. And so I traveled to be with my family in the US. I learned many lessons in Zaire.

JC: More recently, you have been an effective organizer of faith communities to oppose the death penalty and to address concerns about the criminal justice system. You are also a member of Murder Victims' Families for Reconciliation. What place do these issues have in your thinking about our violent culture and the call to do justice and make peace?

PC: When I was quite young my uncle, my grandmother's youngest child, was murdered. Six months later my first cousin, my grandmother's oldest grandchild, was also murdered. The emotions in my family ran the gamut of anger, overwhelming grief, and deep despair, followed by a desire for revenge. My grandmother, your stereotypical black matriarch, was a deeply spiritual woman. She not only rejected seeking vengeance, but much later, when the son of the woman who had killed my uncle came to my grandmother's house to play with my cousins, she welcomed him - much to the dismay of many of my other relatives. My grandmother's response was that the child had done nothing to our family, and as a result should not be punished.

The response and witness of my grandmother laid the foundation for my opposition to and work against the death penalty. It wasn't until many years later, though, that I really saw the death penalty up close. I was working on a case with the Southern Poverty Law Center in which a young black man, Michael Donald, had been lynched by members of the United Klan of America. Michael Donald's mother, Beulah Mae Donald, looked a lot like my grandmother. Michael was her youngest child. During the civil suit that the Law Center brought against the Klan, one of the klansmen asked Mrs. Donald to forgive him. She responded, "Son, I forgave you a long time ago." When asked about her position on the death penalty - one of the klansmen had been sentenced to death - Mrs. Donald said she was opposed to the death penalty because she never wanted another to experience the agony of losing a child.

One of the reasons I'm passionately opposed to the death penalty is that those on Death Row are someone's sons or daughters. Those family members are the invisible victims. In being a parent, I have learned that I can't control my kids. They are independent people. My own kids have gone to so many protests and vigils, I just hope they don't decide to become right-wing activists!

So many folks in prison might have gone another direction. There is no magic mirror to look in and see a person's future. If one of my children has a serious problem someday, I hope someone will be there to support and not judge him. Remembering each of us is a human being and that we have obligations to one another has compelled me to do some of this work.

JC: I have at times felt that I lived and worked in three separate movements that did not recognize they had a common struggle: one working for justice on issues of oppression and poverty; a second working for peace on demilitarization and an end to war, and a third committed by a faith tradition to reconciliation. We talk about active nonviolence as the means to achieve all three - justice, reconciliation and peace - but we seem to have a hard time incorporating that fullness. Have you had similar experiences, and do you have advice for a broader and more holistic approach?

PC: Without justice there can't be peace. This is a mantra that sticks with me. Because of the injustice I grew up with, I know it's very real. It has always fascinated me. In a lot of communities of color, many are suspicious of peace, as if it's a way to ignore injustices. A lot of peace organizations have failed to identify ways to do both peace and justice. We do not do enough visioning, and we do not do it collectively. Peace is an "action verb": we have to do it in order to be it.

As I grow older I realize that my own individual action may not have a great impact. The struggle is more important than the attainment, a struggle that respects all in our world community. We need to keep working on ourselves to struggle with integrity. For me, every person's perception is valid. I want to know how someone else perceives. I want people to know they are affirmed and valued. This is a constant struggle.

Peace is doing, not just being. There is such a culture of violence that the need is very great. We need creativity. We can use the opportunities appearing in our midst every day. We know it is difficult to be constantly engaged. We are always being challenged. We must look squarely at ourselves to discover if what we say and do is really what we want to be.

JC: Since you came on board in March, you have already learned a lot about FOR. What do you see as some of our challenges and opportunities?

PC: Challenges are opportunities. How do we solve conflict, person to person or nation to nation? FOR has been in significant places to help think through what successful resolution is about. The question now is how to keep doing it. How do we maintain constancy? How do we learn from history and yet not get mired in the past but apply the best to our work today?

How do we provide opportunities for people to become engaged with us? How do we raise a prophetic voice for peace and justice? How do we define our work in ways that feed the souls of people who already are with us, yet are basic and vibrant enough to invite others in?

FOR's vision and mission statement are phenomenal. How do we reflect back to see that we are staying true to them? We have the ability to connect people and causes. I think folks are looking for FOR. So how do folks know we exist and that we want to be engaged with them?

JC: Today we hear descriptions of "a war of civilizations." More and more people are contacting FOR because they want advice about grassroots interfaith work. Is this another area of challenge and opportunity for FOR?

PC: We have the gift of being interfaith, but how do we utilize that to engage in discussion? What would a peace and justice-based society actually look like? We say we are interfaith, but how do we model and deepen that commitment? As with any organization, how do we focus in so that we create good models that are realistic, and still try to do as much as possible to realize our capacity? How do we empower folks at the local level?

JC: In nonviolence training, we talk about continually deepening our roots in active nonviolence in order to sustain ourselves for the long haul. How do you do this, Pat? What helps to sustain you and keep you so vibrant?

PC: I feed off the energy of other folks. I have kids who keep me humble. I have to be receptive to their needs and learn from them. They give me the funny moments I need. I have mentors and friends that I look to for advice, so I feel part of something larger. This helps us not get so enmeshed in our own issues that we don't see the broader picture. We have to have the ability to laugh; we need people to have a good time. And I am always looking for new opportunities and new partners and new ways to do our work. I think we must always be expanding the community so we are increasing perspectives. I feed off people's creativity.

None of us can take ourselves too seriously. We must recognize the need for other folks. We must be willing to make mistakes and remember that we're only human. It's our effort that counts.

JC: Pat, we are blessed by your presence with us. Thank you for sharing your story.

Janet Chisholm, nonviolence training director for the Fellowship of Reconciliation, previously served with Richard Deats as interim co-executive director of FOR. Pat Clark directed the Criminal Justice Project for the American Friends Service Committee before becoming national coordinator of FOR in March, 2002.

©2002 Fellowship of Reconciliation