I spent time with my grandson this week. As he knows I usually have something for him in my room, he went in to see and when he came out, he had my prayer beads looped around his neck. I told him about the beads and knew he understood as much as a two-year can, because the rest of the evening, he told everyone he had "Buddha Beads" around his neck.
I am a peacebuilder. I think I was born to be one. At age twelve I finally made six feet in height. My father took this opportunity to explain to me about the responsibilities of being tall. I would imagine he would have had to be the one. He was six feet five inches tall himself.
“P.K., do you know how tall you are now?”
“No, Daddy,” I responded. “I just know that I’m taller than most everybody in my class except a few of the boys in the 11th and 12th grades.”
I was in the eighth grade then, youngest of my classmates—taller than almost all of them and all of my teachers. My father’s mother had always emphasized standing tall and since that was ingrained I stood tall. That day I learned from my father that I would sometimes seem taller than people the rest of my life and probably would be. I’m 6 feet and 3 inches now. So, my father sat me to down to explain about size and the power size can have. He explained about periphery vision and how it played an active role in people’s perceptions about space. He told me how precious a person’s space can be. He also told me that I had a new responsibility now that I had grown so tall.
This is what he told me.
“People will see you before you see them,” he tells me. He explained that this could be a good thing. “But sometimes people will see you as a hindrance before you’ve opened your mouth.” And then he told me something I never thought about. “You will be perceived to take up a person’s personal space even when you don’t mean to.” My father then stood and demonstrated what he meant. He told me that people consider a certain amount of space their own. “If you tower over them,” he said to me as I looked up at him, “someone may consider that you are taking up their space.” My father’s height was imposing when we both stood. Now standing over me as I sat, I immediately understood his meaning.
“You can continue to tower over them, continue to make them feel uncomfortable or,” he smiled, “you can even the field of vision so that you are no longer threatening.” He demonstrated by sitting down again with me.
I told my father that I would never do anything to threaten another person. I was a gentle giant, after all. He told me that he believed that I would not. However, he gave me this last piece of advice. He then told me that there may be times in my life I need to make a point. His words to me were simple. “It is then that you stand.”
I’m also storyteller—naturalized, of course. My Aunt Ollie, my mother’s sister was the other family griot. I believe I inherited her gift. She was also the oldest of my mother’s siblings as I am. My mother told me when I was quite young that she and her siblings seldom could afford the nickel movies, so they would let Ollie go instead. She would return and tell them the story of Gene Autry’s pursuits and victories in movies such as “Back in the Saddle”—even singing the songs that made him so famous. I’m the oldest as well and I’ve been practicing my storytelling skills on my younger siblings for many years. I believe that my ability to tell a story has helped me to take the advice my father gave and use my skills as a storyteller to simply stand when there is a point to be made. These days the point is—there is no way to peace. Peace is the way.
So now I’ve become a student of peace through non-violence. I say student because I’m still learning. I believe that Jesus was also a teacher of non-violence. I’ve learned that non-violence cannot be simply a concept or even a tool. It must be a way of life. How else could Jesus at the moment they came to arrest him speak to his disciples so passionately for peace after Peter cut off the soldier’s ear. He said to them, “There will be no more of this!” How was he able to do this? Because he had prepared for it his entire life, at the moment of whether to use violence or non-violence, he had no choice. He chose peace. He even healed the person who came with a sword with the peace of healing. I’m sure that soldier was never the same. Perhaps at that moment, he lay down his sword. Even then the tenants of non-violence spoke that there is no way to peace—peace is the way.
Personally, I think God made me tall for a reason. He wanted me to be seen. But, God also had a plan. He never wanted me to use my size to bully or hurt another. He wanted to show that big doesn’t always mean power, but it can speak truth. As I learn the lessons that Jesus taught; that others such as Gandhi, Lawson and King also taught; I realize that I want no other life. I also know now what my father meant when he said that there would be times when I would have to stand. I stand to convey the stories of peace through my gift and hopefully show the way of peace in every facet of my life—in height and stories.
So, when the time is right, I'll tell my grandson this story. He's going to be tall. That's a fact. But, he will already know that his height is a gift (as it was to all of my children) and that I will hold to non-violence because of him and all the children of the world. He's my Little Buddha, after all.
---Peace
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