Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [135]
I collapsed into a chair. Karima had changed my entire feeling about working in the office. She understood computers much better than me, she had set up a proper accounting system in the computer, taken over the database from Barry, handled most of the basic administration in about half the time it took me, and did it twice as well. Besides, I liked her. She had become a friend, someone who really understood what Bahia Street was about, someone with overseas experience, who didn’t think the United States was the center of the known universe. If I lost her, I could never fight this board.
But, I wasn’t fighting the board much anyway. Henry was very good at his rhetoric; he was a lawyer after all. My confidence wasn’t so high. Without Karima, I would have to face the office each day completely alone. I didn’t think I could do that.
As I looked at Karima, something snapped. I can’t lose Karima, I thought. I have to do something. Desperation began to suffocate me like a shroud. I forced myself to stand.
“Karima, instead of you leaving now and going home, let’s take a long walk in the Arboretum. It’s a beautiful spring day. Tomorrow, quit or whatever you like, but today, just walk with me. Help me think this through. And we can talk about a lot of things.”
Karima smiled and pushed herself to her feet. “Sounds like a good idea. I get a bit sick these days, but the walking will do me good.”
So we walked and looked at the trees, still bare from winter, saw crocuses sprouting, new spring grass shooting up. I don’t remember what we said, but by the time we returned to the office, my entire attitude had changed. I no longer felt depressed. I was annoyed at myself for having so easily lost track of why we were doing Bahia Street in the first place. What James had called my “idealism” was indeed the core of what we were doing. Bahia Street had been that way when he joined the board, and if he didn’t like it, he would just have to leave.
I have to win this one, I thought. If I’m ruthless and make enemies, that’s just the way it has to be. Despite our conflicts, I respected Henry. But there was no way he was going to convince the board to let his way of thinking take over Bahia Street. I was just not being very smart about all this; I was being too emotional.
And, I thought to myself, to be fair to the next board member who joined, I had to be very clear, and have our ideas of operation written down for them to read, that control of Bahia Street was in Brazil. Anyone on the board would just have to stretch themselves to understand that others can sometimes understand how to do things in their own countries better than Americans. I realized why another aspect of Bahia Street had been a success: the entire project was a process. These funds for the renovation were more than a building investment. They were an investment that included Rita, the Bahia Street staff, the families, the larger Salvador community who would be getting paid for working on the project, and our own education in Seattle about the realities of incorporating concepts of global equality into our international and local infrastructure. This road was never going to be easy, I realized. If it became easy, then we were no longer challenging the status quo.
To a Mailing List of 615: April 15, 2004
Dear All,
Raining, raining over the bounding main…I was going to jog to work today, but somehow the penetrating drizzle urged me toward the bus, and before I knew it, I was actually on the warm and dry bus heading to the office. Oh well, best intentions and all.
This letter is mostly news of Brazil since I recently returned from there. First the building.