The Uncommon Man

June 09, 2006

Zambia Trip - Entry 3

Blog entry from James Arana, Program Director, Men’s Resources International

Coming Full Circle

Today from yesterday so long ago, I come back to you who never lost track and carried me across the sea and put me in the hands of your people who held me and nurtured me, who guided me.

Never lost or abandoned for you paved the way for me to be safe, to survive for nothing, no man could interrupt your direction, your intention.

I am living proof that your child has come back home.

You watch over me and put me in the hands of native people when I was taken away from my native land.

You show the world that the spirit of thru Native and natural is strong, unalterable relevant and strong.

I go back home under the continual protection and guidance of you, my ancestors.

Going Back Home

This opportunity of a life time to go back home to a place I left five hundred years with no opportunity to know, or to say good by to my loved ones because of the greed from the new world, across the sea.

I go back home with dignity, pride, love, desperation, and depredation of the soul of my people who are lost in the inner city of the concrete jungle of inequity.

I am going back home for all my brothers and sisters who don’t remember they have a home.

I go back home to share the universal connection that years of injustice could not extinguish hope.

My going back home was by no means a smooth road for I am still run into slave traders on my way home, slavers who continue to round up my brothers and sisters in a system of incarceration of destruction
I feel and see slave traders reaching out for me and those who look like me, and at times I barely make it out of their grip, their smear
Hyper vigilant I must be for their traps are everywhere, speed traps for those who look like we, me. Trappings that entangle every time I move and give me no room to breath.

Continually I climb up hill like in quick sand, barely being able to keep my head above water ands feeling the seaweed entangling my leg pulling me down.

I reach out for home and feeling it just outside my grasp, slipping like sand through my hands.

Barely making it here for my hands always seems to be tied behind my back.

Posted by Russell at June 9, 2006 07:04 AM


My dear friend,

I am overjoyed to read words written by you from the red earth of home, beyond, now, the crooked fingers and slippery logic of trapmakers who want to slow you down and frustrate you so much that you forget where you were going. Thank god you have never forgotten, on your long journey, who was blowing wind in your sails. Keep on going, we're waiting to hear more.

Posted by: Reed Larsen at June 9, 2006 10:06 AM

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