Meet the leaders

Thought you'd like to briefly meet the 13 ministers who went through the training and hear a little more about the week.

Start with the large group photo: you will notice that there is only one woman; that's Thembazana. Her congregation is in the Eastern Cape in the rural areas, and she faces a lot of cultural issues as a woman minister. For example, it's a Xhosa tradition that women are not allowed at the gravesite of a man.  So Thembazana has to figure out ways around these cultural traditions that shows respect, yet allows her to step more fully into her role as minister and as leader. It's really tough. Yet, she is a dynamite of energy, power, courage, and love.

In the front row, from right to left:

Zweli: he is an Anglican minister from Port Elizabeth. I met him last year when, one Sunday, he preached at JL Zwane. He and Spiwo are good friends and colleagues. He grappled with many narrative concepts, first stating his belief that leaders are born, not made. By the end, he wasn't so sure. We decided he was living in the question itself, which is a good place to be.

Loyiso: you met Loyiso in an earlier blog. I spent a day with him in the rural areas.  He's a big teddy bear of a sweetie and he continued to correct my Xhosa and teach me more words (which of course are now totally gone from my brain).

Steven: Steven is Zulu but speaks Xhosa, and I believe Setwana, fluently. (There are 11 official

languages in South Africa.) He hails from the Durban area. He was quiet during much of the training, yet when he spoke, he was so spot on, and willing to take risks.  His Zulu name, which he doesn't use much, means "lion."  He said that now he feels more comfortable living his name and living fully into his vision, his preferred story, as if it's happening now.

back row, from right to left:

Vuyo: Coming from a very rural area near Botswana, Vuyo is younger then he appears, 33. Before becoming a minister he was in business. And it shows.  He has an astute mind for many of the aspects of planning and seemed to grasp narrative practices. He talked a lot about the need and his plan to drill boreholes for water, because there is such a lack of water in his area. And now he has more tools to bring people together to make it happen. 

Zamuxolo and Sibusisso: These guys also come from the Eastern Cape rural areas.  I briefly met Zamuxolo when I was visiting.  He was with Litha, Xola and myself as we watched Obama become president. He was sick for a couple of days, and although present, was quieter than what I believe he usually is. Sibusisso is quiet yet his eyes are always shining bright. When he talks, he also shows that he seems to understand what Spiwo and I are inviting people to consider--and how to reposition themselves. 

Wonke and I are now Facebook friends. He is a techie and was teaching several of the ministers how to access email by using their cell phones. He privileged his courage many times by offering himself up to our questions when he found himself "wrestling" with what we were saying. He is a dude.

Xola you also met in an earlier blog. I spent a day with him in the northern Transkei. He immersed himself fully during the week, even though he (as well as many if not most) struggled with the concepts and the practices. He was very open about many things which made it easier to bring out his own expertise and help him claim those.  He always smses me (sending text messages), staying connected. 

Phindile also is from a rural area in the Eastern Cape. We met, albeit very briefly, when I was with Loyiso. He is super quiet, and has penetrating eyes.  He looks as if he is always thinking deeply about what you're saying ("still waters run deep"). And I think he is. He too took risks, especially during an exercise when they were doing an exercise that started with claiming their roots and the people who were there for them when growing up. He was abandoned as a child. I asked him other questions about who was there for him?  Who befriended him? As he thought about this, re-remembering those who were there,I wanted to make sure that this process was okay with him, even though his eyes began to sparkle. "Yes, very helpful," he said softly.

Litha was another minister you met in an earlier blog.  It was at his home were we witnessed Obama being inaugurated. At the beginning of the training, we introduced a quote by Nisargadatta Maharaji (Hindu teacher) about knowing the world is one, that humanity is one. Yet you "must attend to the way you feel, think, and live. Unless there is order in yourself, there can be no order in the world."  (Not exactly a narrative notion; however, I am constantly weaving in my contemplative Buddhist, Jewish, et al mystical learnings. Besides, this is a big issue here: looking external for help/handouts.)  Litha thought he didn't agree with this statement. When we came back to it at the end, he said it made more sense to him now.

Zola comes from a rural area near Limpopo, which is very close to  Zimbabwe. His community is seeing cholera cases.  Not good. He really opened to a narrative approach and seemed to have a lot of fun with it.

Lentikile (behind Thembazan) comes from the Johannesburg area.  He is Soto.  He doesn't speak Xhosa but understands it perfectly. His English is also fabulous.  And he is studying Hebrew. That was fun because I brought up some Hebrew words and their mystical meaning as they relate to leading or narrative practices.  I told him his Hebrew, though, is probably much better than mine. He asked really good questions.

Endings and beginnings

The training ended on a high note. We were able to video tape pieces throughout the week and we captured a reflection session at the end when we asked what really worked for the participants. (Note photo of Spiwo standing with a young man, Siphiwe, and a video camera. (More on Siphiwe in another blog. He and I are learning together how to record and edit via Spiwo and my Mac laptops.) 

At the very end of the workshop, we closed with a Xhosa tradition of journeying, isivivane.  It's a bit hard to translate exactly, and the Zulu meaning is something different than the Xhosa. To the best of my understanding, it is a custom of honoring those who have gone before by placing a stone on a pile of stones that has been created by those who have previously walked along this path. It also has to do with acknowledging that you are here, at this moment in time, precisely because of those who have walked before--that you are now journeying into the future, into the unknown, knowing you are standing on the shoulders of all those who have gone before you.  And that you have a responsibility to journey into the future knowing that others will stand on your shoulders, too. So what are you bringing with you on this journey? We asked them to consider what of the past week they are taking with them.

Before each person placed a stone in a clay pot, they said a silent prayer.  The clay pot with the stones now sits in JL Zwane.  I asked Spiwo why we did not do the ritual outside like we first talked about.  He said that you are not suppose to move the stones once a pile has been created. That when the ministers returned they'd be looking for the stones. If the pile was outside, kids will play with the stones and dismantling the pile. He explained further that kids don't understand the significance and meaning of the stones.  Now that Spiwo has revived an ancient tradition in a modern context, this new pile of stones placed by these leaders will be able have a sacred place and be allowed to grow once again in meaning for the wider community.

Other photos: 

• Zweli talking about his Tree of Life. Thank you Cheryl White and David Denborough from the Dulwich Centre. A great tool which I adapted for this group.
• Spiwo and Lentikile in dialogue over a concept
• Spiwo emphasizing the focus of narrative practice despite my handwriting
• From right to left: Zola, Thembazana, Vuyo, Litha
• Wonke in pensiveness
• Zola and Zamuxolo as part of skit (Zola seems to show up a lot in my photos!)

More reflections and what happens next in another blog, coming soon.

Ariella