How do we live out love?

Three young boys smiled up at the camera. Victoria Terminus, India, was their home and they chatted easily about life there: which children made their living begging, who picked up bottles for a few rupees and who scoured the rubbish for discarded coffee cups to lick. One boy was very matter of fact about having his leg beaten until it broke.

Every now and then, we were shown a child sleeping in the road frighteningly close to a passing truck or bodies strung out on drugs and covered in flies.

But most shocking to me was the boys’ laughter about which of them had been attacked for sex, often by random men. They were street children. They were easy prey. This was just another part of life. As the narrator said, and as was fairly obvious, they had no pity for themselves or for anyone else.

I’d gone along on a whim when an email asked for a STOP THE TRAFFIK supporter to exhibit literature on behalf of the organisation. Street children’s vulnerability makes them prime candidates for human trafficking. Poverty makes people vulnerable to exploitation.

The last time I did anything public for STOP THE TRAFFIK was a few years ago when a friend organised an anti-trafficking week at our university, getting societies to put on events to raise awareness of human trafficking issues and raise funds for the organisation’s work. Another friend and I put on a poetry night and I performed one of my songs at another society’s acoustic group.

We felt motivated, mobilised, part of something big. Our chocolate was Fairtrade. We were clued up on the “issues”.

But as the noise died down since, I feel like the bridge from the song I’d written became a self-fulfilling prophecy:

“Paralysed by the sense of not achieving what I said I would
Wishing I hadn’t made promises when I can’t
Or is it can’t?
Or is it won’t but should?”

Though my sore pelvic girdle doesn’t thank me for lugging a heavy backpack of STOP THE TRAFFIK leaflets across Bristol for the Unchosen film campaign, I am grateful for having been there. It reminded me of my responsibility toward others, locally and globally. It was a chance to be pushed out of paralysis.

It’s made me continue to think about the things I want for the creature as she grows up. I want her to be informed about and sensitive to the suffering of others. And I want her to do something about it. This inevitably means her father and I need to think about what picture of humanity we’re giving her, what we show her is important. In short, what we do.

Little could beat the picture of humanity my mother gave me. I think of her decades dedicated to working with people from “disadvantaged” backgrounds, noticing their strength and simply trying to build relationships where they can take hold of their own power. Money has never been a motivating factor for her. Love has.

For my own life, I’m going back to the chorus of that song I wrote in twenty-one-year-old excitement:

“I still think silence is worse
Too many sounds across the earth compete to be heard
I still think there are things that we should all believe
Call it naïve but there’s little excuse for apathy.”

It’s very easy to think these issues through in abstract terms. I’m still trying to work out what it means in practice in my own life – how do I tangibly live out love in my context? It’ll be encouraging to hear what others are doing. How are you trying to live out love?

Images from the film Victoria Terminus, directed by Gerard Vandervegt and shown as part of Unchosen’s film campaign.

[she/her] • writer • unschooler • team Soul Farm • Revillaging podcast • breastfeeding counsellor • Trinidadian in Cornwall

Join the discussion

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

    • I know what you mean about feeling overwhelmed. I think that’s what I meant about feeling paralysed. But there are little things we can do even in the face of global problems. And doing little things where you see needs in your local context is also valuable! I may write a post about what we can do on our smaller level to confront trafficking at some point, methinks.

  • I think the very fact that you are already considering things like this for your baby show what an amazing mum you will be. I don’t know about “living out love” in your context, but I try to show my daughter every day how much I love her and give her a safe, loving and warm home. I want her to treat others the way she would want to be treated, which is the way I was taught to be when I was growing up. If she is interested in other people and has empathy with them then I will consider myself to have done a good job as a mum.

    • Thanks, Molly. I hope I’ll do as well as I can at this child-rearing malarkey. It certainly sounds like you’re “living out love” by loving your daughter and I’m sure she’s well on her way to growing up to be a compassionate woman.

  • It is often the case, because we cannot solve the whole problem, we do nothing towards contributing to the sum of the parts. I try, every day, to commit some good deed that will benefit someone if not everyone. In my children’s awareness of other’s pain, I also see their late father’s influence of contribution beyond one’s self and I am proud if far from satisfied with what remains in the world.

    • In many ways, I’m sure your children’s empathy will be your (and their late father’s) positive contribution in the face of the world’s pain. I like that idea of taking one thing each day.

  • Been wanting to comment on this but really not sure what to say. Victoria Terminus is in Mumbai, my home, my birth place. I’ve spent many, many years in Mumbai and have grown up/lived alongside this poverty and seen it all my life really. Does this make you immune to it? Honestly, yes it does to some extent at least. Is that a good thing – no but such is life. If you see the same thing every day for years and years on end, it’s not going to shock you. But that’s why us Indians need to de-immunise ourselves and do something about it.

    • I can definitely see how that happens, ebabee. In Trinidad it’s easy to see people living in horrific poverty and kids begging in the road. I think I’ve been resensitized to a lot of things since living over here. I realise anew just how privileged I am and that makes me want to do what I can where I am.

      It might interest you to know that the film was made by a charity that is run by both Indians and Europeans and the house that offers the children a home is only run by Indians.