So I’ve been hooked on the whole documentary kick recently and find myself searching through different films online in my free time. Today, I came across a film called War/Dance – a story about children in northern Uganda who have been displaced from their homes because of violence and war. The film shows that many of these children have experienced horrible things in their lives and now, are united through song and use dancing as a way to escape from the past and live for the future.



It was a film that really pulled at me, and I found myself balancing tears of happiness and tears of sorrow. After watching films like these – that do nothing more then retell an individuals story – I can’t help but feel awful for the way we are leaving this planet and our society for the next generation.

When you listen to any of these children’s stories…when you understand what they have had to go through…when you watch their tears role down as they simply tell you about themselves – how can we do anything else but ask ourselves – is this how life was intended to be lived?

Back in the summer of 2007 when I visited Tanzania, I met a friend who has had more of an impact on me than I ever thought possible for only knowing someone for a few weeks. His name was Johnny, and he was an orphan. Johnny was abandoned by his mother shortly after his birth and was the unintended outcome of a failed, illegal abortion. As a result, Johnny is mute, suffers brain damage, and has a limp and deformed arm.

I’ve never met a kid with a bigger heart – or a bigger smile. I miss Johnny.

Although Johnny and I didn’t share a common language, and could only communicate through laughs, hand motions, and grunts – by the time I left, I knew Johnny’s story. In so little time, I learned to see the world through his perspective and his eyes. All of the sudden, I learned that life was about more than the difficulties thrown our way, and was more about our attitude towards handling them. Johnny learned that pretty quickly, and was one of the happiest kids I’ve met despite his challenges.

You know, when I think of the kids in our world, I have a renewed sense of hope. It’s easy to look around us and pick out the messed up, broken, and failed things we have created. We so easily overlook the children, quietly standing beneath our gaze waiting for their turn to make a difference. When will we stop, look down, and seek their knowledge?

Sure they don’t have the wisdom or skills that are developed with age, but I believe in the knowledge of a child. I believe in their simplicity, their curiosity, and their love.

So as I was watching War/Dance, all of these thoughts started rushing back to me from my time in Africa. At one point in the film, a child confronts one of the rebels who had abducted him a few years early and asks if he knows anything about his missing brother, who he hasn’t seen in years. He then goes on to ask why they continue to abduct and kill children when they know it is wrong.

I wish I had just a fraction of the bravery and courage it takes to ask questions like those. Let alone sit and wait for an answer…

But to a child, some things are simply black and white. Some questions have to be asked. And often their curiosity leads them to ask those questions. Why do you kill when you know it is bad?

We’ve gotten good at answering those questions by explaining the ‘grey’ areas in life or explaining the complexity of the situation. But have we missed the point. I understand we live in a complex world, but aren’t certain things still black and white. We’ve gotten so good at answering children s questions that we begin using those same answers on ourselves. But what if we took the time to listen to the answer from a child’s point of view…

One of the girl’s from the movie makes the comment “I’m excited to see what peace looks like…”

I am too.

Anyway, I couldn’t really articulate everything I was thinking above, so I wrote the following. Maybe one day we’ll start to take the advice from our children…

New Eyes. New Future.

I want to see the world through the eyes of a child.
I want to feel pain as a child,
   experience joy as a child,
      share a story as a child.

Sadly, I don’t know if I remember how to think like a child anymore.
I can categorize their actions,
Observe their behavior,
And speak about their brilliance,
But to think their thoughts is far too difficult.

I wish I could hold back the tears for just once,
wipe them all away.

What world have we created for those younger?
Is this what I am proud to hand over?
I often dream of my legacy, our legacy,
We flip through the pages of history
And sum up others’ actions in a few brief words.

But what records will there be of us?
What direction are we moving?
And do our children want to follow?

We are numb to the world we have created
And confused when children seemed shocked about that same world.
Can we open our eyes for just once
To see what we have created?

If the fate of tomorrow rests in our hands,
Then when will we grasp it and change it…

I hope I will be there
When the last bomb drops
And the last tear falls

I want to be there
When the armies scatter
And the guns drop

When soldier’s arms are open wide to embrace children,
And a mother is reunited with her daughter.

I’m excited to see what peace looks like…

For I’ve seen the smile of a child in the midst of war.
It is a smile that has weathered a storm, and even though it rains,
Manages to peak through and find a glimmer of light.

But imagine those same smiles in the midst of peace...
With no worries or fears,
No demons or nightmares.

A smile about the world around them,
Not for the world inside of them.

But until that day,
I will walk with the stories of those children in my heart.
Their pains, their joys, and their stories are not mine,
But I will hold onto them as a reminder

A reminder that we are all walking side by side.
We are simply passerbys on this planet,
With the hope that we would leave this world
a better place than how we found it.