It has been observed many times: Aston is not a permanent residence for the people living here. They are migrants who come and go. Aston is just a stepping stone for them, it is said. Once they have settled in this country and are doing reasonably well, they move on to more spacious and greener places.
This did not just happen once, but at least two times in living memory. The Irish were the first migrants to come to Aston. Only a few of them are left now, mostly elderly people. Their children who received a good education landed jobs elsewhere and that is where they went. The next group that came in and by and large replaced the Irish were the Afro-Caribbean people. A good number of them are still around, but it is also obvious that many of them are no longer here. They have been replaced by people from Pakistan and somewhat later from Bangladesh. Right now, these two groups constitute the majority of the population of Aston.
A disadvantage of a shifting population is that a high sense of belonging is absent. No pride in the neighbourhood of Aston is expected from transients. As soon as they have an opportunity they will move on to more prosperous and peaceful neighbourhoods. We have a kind of vicious circle here. Community participation is low in Aston, because people look for their future elsewhere, outside the neighbourhood. As a result, little is happening in terms of community activities, which in turn is not enticing for people to stay on. And so community participation remains low.
It is as though your steering wheel is blocked on a roundabout, preventing you to take one of the exits. Still, there are signs that counter such an understandable feeling of pessimism. Every day I am walking the streets of Aston and what I see is not just decay and neglect. No, on the contrary, in every street there are residents busily refurbishing their homes. They are not just working on the interior but on the exterior as well, changing the portal or beautifying the facade. Can it be true that these people intend to make their houses into their permanent homes? It looks like it and I sincerely hope that it is the case. After all, the permanent residents can be relied upon to take a keen and very much needed interest in their neighbourhood.
Ton
L-R: Carl Tranter MSC, Mark Van Beeumen MSC and Ton Zwart MSC
Monday, 2 November 2009
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Nostalgia
A group of seniors in our parish comes together on Tuesdays for a lunch in the Sacred Heart Primary School. Actually, the room where we gather belongs to the West-Indian Chaplaincy and its caretaker is hosting the event. On the other hand, the food served to the seniors comes from the school's kitchen and the pupils of the school are serving the guests as part of their formation in dealing respectfully with elderly people. Both the young and the old love it.
It is inevitable, I guess, that in a group like this the glorious past figures prominently in the conversations. Memories never fail to recall the large number of people that attended the celebrations of the years gone by and how lively the participation was in those days. The conclusion invariably is that all is very different now.
There is no denying the conclusion: the neighbourhood has changed beyond recognition. Aston turned from a white English-Irish neighbourhood into an ethnically mixed population where at present the majority of the inhabitants comes from Pakistan and Bangladesh. There is still a good sprinkle of Afro-Caribbean people, but like the Irish and the English they are declining in number, as the children of the first migrants have progressed and moved to more comfortable quarters elsewhere in the city. So, for those who remained there is much to be nostalgic about.
Nostalgia has its degrees, though. The crucial point is how realistically one deals with the facts, the facts of the past and those of the present. When one stays within the facts, nostalgia is a way of dealing with true losses due to changes in personal and community life. But when nostalga idealises the past to an extent it never was and at the same time is overly critical of the present, then one is in danger of blaming the newcomers for all of one's negative feelings. Then they are held responsible for putting the good old days to an end and bringing in all the problems of the present.
Nostalgia is not just confined to the old-timers, newcomers may suffer from it as well. The migrants who left their country of origin may turn out to be more traditional than those who stayed behind. They may remember vividly the good things they experienced before they moved to Britain and compare these with the negative experiences they had to cope with since they arrived in this country. Then nostalgia becomes a distortion of reality, not just a nurturing of good memories.
Last Saturday British and Asian people clashed in the centre of Birmingham to the horror of the shoppers of all complexions. One wonders how much of it was due to nostalgia gone wrong on both sides, for, sad to say, something innocent in itself has the potential to turn extreme.
Ton
It is inevitable, I guess, that in a group like this the glorious past figures prominently in the conversations. Memories never fail to recall the large number of people that attended the celebrations of the years gone by and how lively the participation was in those days. The conclusion invariably is that all is very different now.
There is no denying the conclusion: the neighbourhood has changed beyond recognition. Aston turned from a white English-Irish neighbourhood into an ethnically mixed population where at present the majority of the inhabitants comes from Pakistan and Bangladesh. There is still a good sprinkle of Afro-Caribbean people, but like the Irish and the English they are declining in number, as the children of the first migrants have progressed and moved to more comfortable quarters elsewhere in the city. So, for those who remained there is much to be nostalgic about.
Nostalgia has its degrees, though. The crucial point is how realistically one deals with the facts, the facts of the past and those of the present. When one stays within the facts, nostalgia is a way of dealing with true losses due to changes in personal and community life. But when nostalga idealises the past to an extent it never was and at the same time is overly critical of the present, then one is in danger of blaming the newcomers for all of one's negative feelings. Then they are held responsible for putting the good old days to an end and bringing in all the problems of the present.
Nostalgia is not just confined to the old-timers, newcomers may suffer from it as well. The migrants who left their country of origin may turn out to be more traditional than those who stayed behind. They may remember vividly the good things they experienced before they moved to Britain and compare these with the negative experiences they had to cope with since they arrived in this country. Then nostalgia becomes a distortion of reality, not just a nurturing of good memories.
Last Saturday British and Asian people clashed in the centre of Birmingham to the horror of the shoppers of all complexions. One wonders how much of it was due to nostalgia gone wrong on both sides, for, sad to say, something innocent in itself has the potential to turn extreme.
Ton
Monday, 3 August 2009
Obstacles
Some months ago I learned that English is taught to Bangladeshi men here in Aston. It was good news to me, because I strongly believe that command of the English language is a prerequisite to any bridge building between the various ethnic groups in the neighbourhood. Without it, segregation will reign supreme with its attending dangers of ignorance and prejudice.
So one morning I took the bold step to visit the community centre where the English classes were conducted and waited outside until I had a chance to talk with the teacher. He was surprised to meet someone who wanted to volunteer in helping him with his classes, but, sad to say, he could only accept an assistant who had the necessary qualifications.
At that time I had no idea what those qualifications were. I simply thought that it would be enough that my command of the English language was much better than that of his learners and that it would take him only a few minutes to find that out. Disappointment on my side: volunteering was not going to be easy.
It was Aston Pride, the regeneration programme of the city government, that organised a course for Adult Learner Support. After some hesitation I followed the lead of my two companions and subscribed to the course. It turned out to be an extensive affair way beyond what I would ever need to help a few men to improve the little English they possess. In fact, the language part of the course was the shortest part of the course. Most time was spent on other matters: education policies of the government, health and safety, learning styles, learning disabilities, methods for assessment, curriculum fits and so on. Worse still was the amount of paper work expected from the volunteers, a true deterrent.
What I needed most was in short supply: an understanding of the particular difficulties that Bangladeshi men face when they try to master English and how to work with a variety of simple exercises to keep the learners interested. The focus of the course was not on that, even though, thanks to the course, I know by now where to find these things.
My big suprise came in the end. One of our teachers admitted that a volunteer does not need the qualifications which the course provides in order to volunteer. It all depends on the tutor, the principal teacher, whether he or she can make good use of the services offered by the volunteer. That was exactly my original idea: what a long way to get back to it.
So one morning I took the bold step to visit the community centre where the English classes were conducted and waited outside until I had a chance to talk with the teacher. He was surprised to meet someone who wanted to volunteer in helping him with his classes, but, sad to say, he could only accept an assistant who had the necessary qualifications.
At that time I had no idea what those qualifications were. I simply thought that it would be enough that my command of the English language was much better than that of his learners and that it would take him only a few minutes to find that out. Disappointment on my side: volunteering was not going to be easy.
It was Aston Pride, the regeneration programme of the city government, that organised a course for Adult Learner Support. After some hesitation I followed the lead of my two companions and subscribed to the course. It turned out to be an extensive affair way beyond what I would ever need to help a few men to improve the little English they possess. In fact, the language part of the course was the shortest part of the course. Most time was spent on other matters: education policies of the government, health and safety, learning styles, learning disabilities, methods for assessment, curriculum fits and so on. Worse still was the amount of paper work expected from the volunteers, a true deterrent.
What I needed most was in short supply: an understanding of the particular difficulties that Bangladeshi men face when they try to master English and how to work with a variety of simple exercises to keep the learners interested. The focus of the course was not on that, even though, thanks to the course, I know by now where to find these things.
My big suprise came in the end. One of our teachers admitted that a volunteer does not need the qualifications which the course provides in order to volunteer. It all depends on the tutor, the principal teacher, whether he or she can make good use of the services offered by the volunteer. That was exactly my original idea: what a long way to get back to it.
Monday, 15 June 2009
The need for English
Walking the streets of Aston is a strange experience. The houses are unmistakenly English, in fact Victorian, a reminder of the Industrial Revolution which started in England in the nineteenth century. But the Englishness of Aston stops there, for most of the people are aliens. They walk around in clothes which are distinctly Asian and they talk in languages native to Pakistan and Bangladesh. The English language is in fact marginalised.
This would not be a bad thing, if the command of English was there and the other languages are only used for the sake of familiarity, a sign of closeness and intimacy. But this is often not the case, at least not for the older generation. They speak English poorly, if at all, and it is not uncommon to see young children act as interpreters to their parents in health clinics or other government institutions. I experienced this myself one time, when an elderly man wanted to see our house, as he was interested in a similar house a few doors away. It was his little boy who did all the talking.
I can imagine that it is embarrassing for a grown-up to rely on children in order to make contact with wider society. Likewise it is embarrassing for a parent not to be able to help one's children with their homework and feeling outclassed by even their little ones. It seems that experiences like these are the strongest motivations for wanting to learn English. They go right back to the family situation and the family is at the centre of the Asian cultures.
The three of us believe that responding to the need for English is a great service to the community, perhaps the greatest service we can offer. The time for looking around and trying to understand the neighbourhood and its dynamics is over, it is now time to make decisions about how to insert ourselves into concrete action. Helping with English seems the right choice. The need for English is there, not just from the point of view of integration and cohesion, but as a felt need of the people themselves.
This would not be a bad thing, if the command of English was there and the other languages are only used for the sake of familiarity, a sign of closeness and intimacy. But this is often not the case, at least not for the older generation. They speak English poorly, if at all, and it is not uncommon to see young children act as interpreters to their parents in health clinics or other government institutions. I experienced this myself one time, when an elderly man wanted to see our house, as he was interested in a similar house a few doors away. It was his little boy who did all the talking.
I can imagine that it is embarrassing for a grown-up to rely on children in order to make contact with wider society. Likewise it is embarrassing for a parent not to be able to help one's children with their homework and feeling outclassed by even their little ones. It seems that experiences like these are the strongest motivations for wanting to learn English. They go right back to the family situation and the family is at the centre of the Asian cultures.
The three of us believe that responding to the need for English is a great service to the community, perhaps the greatest service we can offer. The time for looking around and trying to understand the neighbourhood and its dynamics is over, it is now time to make decisions about how to insert ourselves into concrete action. Helping with English seems the right choice. The need for English is there, not just from the point of view of integration and cohesion, but as a felt need of the people themselves.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Mistaken
Birmingham Central Market is not only a good place for shopping, it is also a place where one can meet people from all over the world looking for cheap goods and foods. Even without striking a bargain oneself it is an entertaining place just to walk around in.
Last week I saw a guy there dressed like a tramp, unshaven and dishevelled. He took a few unsteady steps before he toppled over in front of my feet. He had not seen the line that fastened a billboard to the ground. He had trouble to get up by himself, so I helped him together with a companion of his who was his look-alike in appearance. Behind me I heard a guy say: "One drink too much for sure"; and it was exactly what I had thought myself. But bending over him trying to get him up I noticed no smell of alcohol whatsoever and the same applied to his companion whose face came near mine. They were as sober as new-born babies.
The realisation jolted me, wrong again! I try so hard to be open and to do away with prejudices and preconceived ideas, but time and again I am caught out. It brings home forcefully that it is nearly impossible to erase from heart and mind what has found its way in there over many years. The only thing I can do is to keep on trying.
Since the incident I became more aware of behaviour that can often been seen in Aston, but which until now had not really sunk in as significant. Most people here in Aston are Asian and they are supposed to have come from a strongly patriarchal culture. You would expect that the roles of men and women are clearly delineated: the women mostly confined to the affairs of the home and the men in charge of everything else. It struck me, now, that in fact many men are involved in the household shopping, either on their own or together with their families, not just the younger men but the older men as well. Perhaps more strikingly, it is not uncommon (although far from general) to see young fathers push the pram while their wives are walking beside them.
I have no idea whether these observations reflect an adaptation to English society or fall somehow within the behavioural patterns of the original culture. Whatever is the case, the point is that my presupposition was wrong and needs revision on account of that.
Ton
Last week I saw a guy there dressed like a tramp, unshaven and dishevelled. He took a few unsteady steps before he toppled over in front of my feet. He had not seen the line that fastened a billboard to the ground. He had trouble to get up by himself, so I helped him together with a companion of his who was his look-alike in appearance. Behind me I heard a guy say: "One drink too much for sure"; and it was exactly what I had thought myself. But bending over him trying to get him up I noticed no smell of alcohol whatsoever and the same applied to his companion whose face came near mine. They were as sober as new-born babies.
The realisation jolted me, wrong again! I try so hard to be open and to do away with prejudices and preconceived ideas, but time and again I am caught out. It brings home forcefully that it is nearly impossible to erase from heart and mind what has found its way in there over many years. The only thing I can do is to keep on trying.
Since the incident I became more aware of behaviour that can often been seen in Aston, but which until now had not really sunk in as significant. Most people here in Aston are Asian and they are supposed to have come from a strongly patriarchal culture. You would expect that the roles of men and women are clearly delineated: the women mostly confined to the affairs of the home and the men in charge of everything else. It struck me, now, that in fact many men are involved in the household shopping, either on their own or together with their families, not just the younger men but the older men as well. Perhaps more strikingly, it is not uncommon (although far from general) to see young fathers push the pram while their wives are walking beside them.
I have no idea whether these observations reflect an adaptation to English society or fall somehow within the behavioural patterns of the original culture. Whatever is the case, the point is that my presupposition was wrong and needs revision on account of that.
Ton
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Villa Park
The most impressive structure in Aston is Villa Park, the football stadium of Aston Villa, the premier league football club in Aston, which proudly displays its year of establishment: 1874. The football club does very well and ranks momentarily fourth in the premier league table.
Villa Park has a capacity of 42,640 seats and due to the fact that it is often filled to capacity there are plans to expand the number of seats up to 50,000. In contrast, the neighbourhood of Aston counts only 27,000 inhabitants, which means that on match days Aston is flooded with people outnumbering by far the local population. They all flock to Villa Park changing temporarily the character of the neighbourhood: from mostly Asian to predominantly white. It is indeed conspicuous that most of the fans of Aston Villa come from outside the neighbourhood and belong to the white section of English society.
So far I have attended only two matches of Aston Villa. The first was prompted by a promotional offer of Aston Villa trying to bring more local people into the stadium. Tickets for Aston residents were reduced from £20 or 30 pounds to just £5 pounds and it worked. In the section Mark and I had our seats, there were many Asian people. In fact, we learned about the promotional offer from our Bangladeshi neighbours. No reductions were offered for the second game and this showed as well: Asian people were conspicuously absent. Apparently, the normal prices of the tickets are too much for the local residents who suffer from low income and high unemployment. My impression is that they would like to be counted among the fans but that sadly the cost of the tickets is prohibitive.
It was quite an experience to attend the two matches. One was a win and the other a draw, but in both cases the crowd was fantastic from the beginning to the end, moving as one in urging the players on to go all out and win the game. The shouting, singing, waving and wailing approached ritual proportions. Indeed, football has often been compared with a religious ritual taking place on the "holy ground" of the stadium and uniting people of all walks of life around the heroes in the centre, the modern-day saints. Whatever is true of this comparison football has surely the capacity to build up and to break down community relations. Hopefully, in the case of Aston Villa, the club succeeds in building up an inclusive community, not just of those living outside Aston but foremost of the residents themselves. It is in line of the club's intention to be committed to equality.
Ton
Friday, 16 January 2009
Mansfield Green
Aston is a innercity neighbourhood with few green spaces. The largest is Aston Park adjacent to Aston Hall, the stately mansion constructed by the Holte family in the 17th century. It is presently being restored together with the park for £10 million. I consider the park my lifeline and frequent it on my daily walks around the neighbourhood.
Closer to our house is another green space, called Mansfield Green. It can in no way compare with Aston park, still it is a breathing space in a neighbourhood crisscrossed by streets and full of buildings. The green space has not always been there: a map of Aston in our house, dated 1917, shows that what is now Mansfield Green was at that time packed with houses.
Unfortunately Mansfield Green is not fully appreciated for the rarity that it is. Littering is a problem in the whole of Aston, but Mansfield Green receives more than its share. The corner closest to our house seems to be the favourite dumping ground of drivers who stop at Mansfield Road to unload their often bulky rubbish onto the grass. Mansfield Green contains a small football field, but it is much less used than one would like to see. The reason seems to be that Mansfield Green lacks maintenance and is even dangerous because of holes hidden in the grass.
The Mansfield Residents Forum likes to see Mansfield Green developed. What they have in mind is rather simple: make it into a park by putting a fence around the area, laying out some paths through it and lining them with benches. A proper playground is to be constructed as well.
It has been a frustrating business. Aston Pride, the regeneration agency for Aston, has conducted two consultations among residents and claims that 52% of the respondents were in favour of constructing a community centre on Mansfield Green. The Mansfield Residents Forum cannot believe that the stated figure is true and would like to scrutinise how it was arrived at, but up to now they have never seen a written copy of the report.
Aston Pride admits that there is no shortage of community facilities in Aston implying that a new community centre is not really needed, but they are said to find it difficult to simply drop it in favour of a park, because one of the three city councillors from Aston is championing the community centre. Bureaucracy is another factor complicating the park proposal. Mansfield Green is owned by the Birmingham City Council with the housing department as the responsible agency, the area still being classified as a housing site. Reclassification of the site is necessary in order to guarantee the development of the park and its maintenance after establishment. This has not yet happened, as the site may still be needed for housing after all.
A strong Mansfield Residents Forum could mean all the difference. Unfortunately the organisation is rather weak and cannot make much of a noise. In order to make its voice really heard it needs to involve many more residents across the several ethnic groups. Would it be possible? Time would learn, but at least it has Mansfield Green to fight for.
Closer to our house is another green space, called Mansfield Green. It can in no way compare with Aston park, still it is a breathing space in a neighbourhood crisscrossed by streets and full of buildings. The green space has not always been there: a map of Aston in our house, dated 1917, shows that what is now Mansfield Green was at that time packed with houses.
Unfortunately Mansfield Green is not fully appreciated for the rarity that it is. Littering is a problem in the whole of Aston, but Mansfield Green receives more than its share. The corner closest to our house seems to be the favourite dumping ground of drivers who stop at Mansfield Road to unload their often bulky rubbish onto the grass. Mansfield Green contains a small football field, but it is much less used than one would like to see. The reason seems to be that Mansfield Green lacks maintenance and is even dangerous because of holes hidden in the grass.
The Mansfield Residents Forum likes to see Mansfield Green developed. What they have in mind is rather simple: make it into a park by putting a fence around the area, laying out some paths through it and lining them with benches. A proper playground is to be constructed as well.
It has been a frustrating business. Aston Pride, the regeneration agency for Aston, has conducted two consultations among residents and claims that 52% of the respondents were in favour of constructing a community centre on Mansfield Green. The Mansfield Residents Forum cannot believe that the stated figure is true and would like to scrutinise how it was arrived at, but up to now they have never seen a written copy of the report.
Aston Pride admits that there is no shortage of community facilities in Aston implying that a new community centre is not really needed, but they are said to find it difficult to simply drop it in favour of a park, because one of the three city councillors from Aston is championing the community centre. Bureaucracy is another factor complicating the park proposal. Mansfield Green is owned by the Birmingham City Council with the housing department as the responsible agency, the area still being classified as a housing site. Reclassification of the site is necessary in order to guarantee the development of the park and its maintenance after establishment. This has not yet happened, as the site may still be needed for housing after all.
A strong Mansfield Residents Forum could mean all the difference. Unfortunately the organisation is rather weak and cannot make much of a noise. In order to make its voice really heard it needs to involve many more residents across the several ethnic groups. Would it be possible? Time would learn, but at least it has Mansfield Green to fight for.
Monday, 29 December 2008
Mediator?
Walking around Aston a few days after Christmas I got a bit of a scare. A group of four guys were having a row, shouting at each other and gesticulating wildly. Getting a bit nearer I saw that two of them really wanted to have a go at each other and that the others were trying to restrain them. What scared me was that one of the guys who stepped in beween and tried to keep the two protagonists apart, received some blows in the process himself and lost his cool as well. This could become an uneven fight with serious consequences, but fortunately the shouting had alarmed some more people and together they tried to pacify the hotheads. It took some time for the shouting to go down but in the end the two opponents, still glaring angrily at each other, parted ways.
Hopefully this was the end of the row, but it is by no means sure. Newspapers regularly carry stories about knife crimes, in which an initial fight that ended in a draw was decided at a later stage by more violent means. It all depends on how humiliated the aggrieved parties feel and whether the initial problem can be solved. I for one had no idea what the row was all about. The shouting contained some English words but most of it was in, what I suppose, an Asian language from Pakistan or Bangladesh.
Mediation needs true insiders. As long as these are around and willing to commit themselves, escalation of a conflict can be prevented and the peace maintained. The whole incident brought forecefully home to me that I do not belong to that category. I felt very much the outsider, present, but unable to understand and to act.
Ton
Hopefully this was the end of the row, but it is by no means sure. Newspapers regularly carry stories about knife crimes, in which an initial fight that ended in a draw was decided at a later stage by more violent means. It all depends on how humiliated the aggrieved parties feel and whether the initial problem can be solved. I for one had no idea what the row was all about. The shouting contained some English words but most of it was in, what I suppose, an Asian language from Pakistan or Bangladesh.
Mediation needs true insiders. As long as these are around and willing to commit themselves, escalation of a conflict can be prevented and the peace maintained. The whole incident brought forecefully home to me that I do not belong to that category. I felt very much the outsider, present, but unable to understand and to act.
Ton
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
The limits of dialogue
Dialogue may be an exciting thing to do: it is venturing into an unfamiliar world and reaching out to others who are different from ourselves. On the other hand it is hard and demanding work. It is not easy to understand someone who grew up in another culture and has a different outlook on life. When religion is involved it becomes even more difficult: then areas of life are touched which go deep and the deeper they go the more sensitive they become.
Aston is a place where many cultures and many religions are in evidence. Churches and mosques abound and people in all kinds of dress are visible in the streets, from Western style clothes to the Muslim woman in full burqa. The differences are enormous and it is clear that observation does not get one very far. You may register the diversity but in order to enter the mindset of somebody else much more is needed than the look of an outsider.
One way of gaining some understanding is study, reading books and articles preferably written by representatives of the other cultures and religions. Let them talk about themselves and give them a chance to express who they are and how they live. Study is reaching out to them but not yet that close as that they are right in front of you and a perhaps uneasy face-to-face encounter becomes inevitable.
I have been studying Islam for months now and slowly I have gotten some inkling of what the Islam stands for. Time, I thought, to share what I have learned with my fellow members of the Catholic parish in Aston. They too live with Muslims all around them and they too may wonder what goes on in the Muslim world. A basic course on Islam might help them to deepen their contacts with their neighbours and understand both them and themselves better.
The course took place in five sessions. Material was gratefully borrowed from the Church of England and it covered five themes: The Origins of Islam; the Qur'an; Islamic Belief and Practice; Evangelism or Dialogue and Extremism. Attendance varied from 15 to over 20 people, both from Aston and neighbouring parishes. On the whole it went well with the exception of one highly confrontational session. The problem was that some of those present did not want dialogue, they wanted clear pronouncements against Islam and its teachings. They were not after understanding another faith but after proclamation of the Catholic truth in all its clarity.
Anything less would be relativity.
True dialogue does not mean that one gives up one's own convictions. On the contrary these will be brought in into the discussion, but what is definitely needed for dialogue is the willingness to understand the other in his or her faith and appreciate what that faith means to him or her. In the end persons are more important than doctrine and love is of a higher order than truth. When this awareness is absent, dialogue has reached its limits.
Ton
Aston is a place where many cultures and many religions are in evidence. Churches and mosques abound and people in all kinds of dress are visible in the streets, from Western style clothes to the Muslim woman in full burqa. The differences are enormous and it is clear that observation does not get one very far. You may register the diversity but in order to enter the mindset of somebody else much more is needed than the look of an outsider.
One way of gaining some understanding is study, reading books and articles preferably written by representatives of the other cultures and religions. Let them talk about themselves and give them a chance to express who they are and how they live. Study is reaching out to them but not yet that close as that they are right in front of you and a perhaps uneasy face-to-face encounter becomes inevitable.
I have been studying Islam for months now and slowly I have gotten some inkling of what the Islam stands for. Time, I thought, to share what I have learned with my fellow members of the Catholic parish in Aston. They too live with Muslims all around them and they too may wonder what goes on in the Muslim world. A basic course on Islam might help them to deepen their contacts with their neighbours and understand both them and themselves better.
The course took place in five sessions. Material was gratefully borrowed from the Church of England and it covered five themes: The Origins of Islam; the Qur'an; Islamic Belief and Practice; Evangelism or Dialogue and Extremism. Attendance varied from 15 to over 20 people, both from Aston and neighbouring parishes. On the whole it went well with the exception of one highly confrontational session. The problem was that some of those present did not want dialogue, they wanted clear pronouncements against Islam and its teachings. They were not after understanding another faith but after proclamation of the Catholic truth in all its clarity.
Anything less would be relativity.
True dialogue does not mean that one gives up one's own convictions. On the contrary these will be brought in into the discussion, but what is definitely needed for dialogue is the willingness to understand the other in his or her faith and appreciate what that faith means to him or her. In the end persons are more important than doctrine and love is of a higher order than truth. When this awareness is absent, dialogue has reached its limits.
Ton
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Dogs
A radio newsitem on October 6 caught my attention. It said that for the first time a guide dog was allowed to enter a mosque in Leicester at prayer time together with its owner. The decision or fatwa was heralded by a mosque leader as a breakthrough and he hoped that many mosques all-over the United Kingdom would follow this example: guide dogs are no longer to be considered as unclean when they take their blind owners to say their prayers in the mosque. He added by way of assurance that guide dogs are well-trained and well-behaving dogs that do not disturb the praying service in any way.
The newsitem brought home to me that indeed in the predominantly Muslim neighbourhood of Aston one hardly sees a dog. I am in the habit of making daily tours through the neighbourhood on foot and it is only rarely that I see dog-owners walking their dogs and they, the dog-owners that is, are mostly white. In a garden not far at the back of our house a large dog can be seen and heard occasionally, jumping and barking around, but its owner is distinctly West-Indian. The Muslim population of mostly Pakistani and Bangladeshi do not seem to take to dogs. Cats is a different story, we see them daily in a balancing act crossing the wooden fence of our garden.
So I was utterly surprised while reading the reminiscences of Dr. Mohammed Naseem, the chairman of the Birmingham Central Mosque since 1975. His piece was first published in the Birmingham Mail of 15th July 2006. He recalls his visits to a park as a child and how he loved the roses on display. The part that suprised me said: "I love dogs too, they are beautiful creatures, so loyal, so devoted. They have only one mission in their lives - to serve and please their masters. They have a total commitment that we humans can learn from. They also come in different colours - white, brown, black, grey and even spotted. It is a joy to visit the annual dog show. The display of colours and quality takes me back to my days of the visits to the park."
Of course, Dr. Naseem does not say that he ever owned a dog himself. He may be simply talking about a love from afar. Still, it is remarkable that he publicly declares his love for dogs, while other Muslims consider them as unclean. I have not yet been able to figure out how this incongruity is possible, but the one conclusion I felt safe to draw for myself is, that caution is needed in approaching the belief system of another religion. It may be more complicated than it seems at first sight.
Ton
The newsitem brought home to me that indeed in the predominantly Muslim neighbourhood of Aston one hardly sees a dog. I am in the habit of making daily tours through the neighbourhood on foot and it is only rarely that I see dog-owners walking their dogs and they, the dog-owners that is, are mostly white. In a garden not far at the back of our house a large dog can be seen and heard occasionally, jumping and barking around, but its owner is distinctly West-Indian. The Muslim population of mostly Pakistani and Bangladeshi do not seem to take to dogs. Cats is a different story, we see them daily in a balancing act crossing the wooden fence of our garden.
So I was utterly surprised while reading the reminiscences of Dr. Mohammed Naseem, the chairman of the Birmingham Central Mosque since 1975. His piece was first published in the Birmingham Mail of 15th July 2006. He recalls his visits to a park as a child and how he loved the roses on display. The part that suprised me said: "I love dogs too, they are beautiful creatures, so loyal, so devoted. They have only one mission in their lives - to serve and please their masters. They have a total commitment that we humans can learn from. They also come in different colours - white, brown, black, grey and even spotted. It is a joy to visit the annual dog show. The display of colours and quality takes me back to my days of the visits to the park."
Of course, Dr. Naseem does not say that he ever owned a dog himself. He may be simply talking about a love from afar. Still, it is remarkable that he publicly declares his love for dogs, while other Muslims consider them as unclean. I have not yet been able to figure out how this incongruity is possible, but the one conclusion I felt safe to draw for myself is, that caution is needed in approaching the belief system of another religion. It may be more complicated than it seems at first sight.
Ton
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