by Collin Price
Collin recently spent several months living at Hopespring and supporting in Day Program as part of his journey as a Jesuit Novice. He wrote this reflection about his experience.
The word “inclusion” is popular these days. We use “inclusive language” to recognize people’s varying identities. We inhabit “inclusive spaces” that offer people of all types a seat at the table. We join in “inclusive activities” that allow people of differing abilities to participate. Inclusion is an important step in recognizing every individual human person for their inherent dignity. However, my experience at L’Arche has shown me what it looks like to go further than mere inclusion to a community of true integration, where people who are often excluded or unimportant are integral, important members of the group.
Integrated language goes past recognition of identity to honoring identity. Integrated spaces go beyond a seat at the table to a valued voice at the table. Integrated activities go past participation to interdependence. At L’Arche Tahoma Hope, I have found that core members and assistants are integrated into one community like strands of yarn knit into a single blanket – holding onto one another for strength, support, purpose, and warmth.
The integration of core members into this L’Arche community struck me as we began the nightly ritual before dinner at Hopespring. First, everybody sits around the table and gets quiet. Next, Ricky gently glides into a prayer of thanksgiving or concern about people in his life, and the rest follow suit one-by-one. When the last person has shared, Ricky counts down backwards from ten. When he gets to zero, Debbie proclaims, “AMEN!” Then everybody dishes up and starts eating.
One night, Ricky had an appointment and was not at dinner. So, we all sat down at the table, got quiet, and looked around at one another. “What do we do? Ricky isn’t here. How do we start the meal? We don’t know how to do this without Ricky.” Ricky is so integrated into the mealtime ritual at Hopespring that people struggle in his absence. The community depends on him to be a leader, not in a way that is patronizing or pandering, but in a true experience of mutuality.
As I reflect upon what I hope to carry with me when I leave L’Arche, I hope I carry the spirit of integration. I hope I can provide space for marginalized people to be leaders. I hope I can be dependent on people who are meek and humble, so that together we all may inherit the earth.
