In Africa, Catholic sisters lead the way to replace orphanages with family care

In Africa, Catholic sisters lead the way to replace orphanages with family care

Sr. Caroline Ngatia of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Sisters of Eldoret shares breakfast with the street families in Nairobi, Kenya. (Doreen Ajiambo)

Sr. Caroline Ngatia of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Sisters of Eldoret shares breakfast with the street families in Nairobi, Kenya. Her center, Kwetu Home of Peace, accommodates homeless boys ages 8 to 14 who are rescued from the streets and slums in Nairobi and inducted into a process of reintegration. (Doreen Ajiambo)


This article originally appeared on the GlobalSistersReport.org


The goal is as simple as it is complicated to achieve: Shift the care of children from institutions like orphanages to a family or family-like environment.

Catholic sisters in three African nations — Uganda, Zambia and Kenya — are leading the way in creating new models for caring for children. Their efforts are the core of the recent launch of Catholic Care for Children International (CCCI) under the auspices of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) — one of many faith groups leading policy reform and family-based alternatives to institutional care.

In traditional African culture, children were raised by their clan and extended family relations who nurtured them into responsible adults, but various socio-economic factors contributed to a break-up of such family ties. That has led to the formation of large childcare institutions which generally lack the necessary environment for children to thrive and develop.

Decades of research has shown that children living in institutional care are extremely exposed to neglect, physical and sexual abuse. A lack of a stable relationships and interactions among children in institutions affect their foundations for brain development, resulting in poor mental health, academic failure, and increased chances of behavioral problems later in life, studies show.

Most African countries, including Uganda, Zambia and Kenya, have endorsed the U.N. Convention on the Rights of the Child and the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child which recognizes that children should be raised in a safe and loving family or within a community to realize their full potential.

That’s a key reason the international sisters’ group UISG is encouraging congregations to end the placement of children in large institutions and instead support community-based, family-like alternatives.

During the launch of this global initiative Oct. 2, which was streamed online, religious orders of women and men were urged to join the initiative. “We understand that the family is the best place for a child to grow holistically,” Sri Lankan Good Shepherd Sr. Niluka Perera, coordinator of Catholic Care for Children International, told participants. “Therefore, it is the responsibility of us who are committed to the care of vulnerable children to give the best place and environment for a child to grow.”

Loreto Sr. Patricia Murray, executive secretary of the UISG, noted that there are at least 9,000 Catholic residential institutions or orphanages worldwide serving almost 5.5 million children. She urged religious institutions to learn from what others are doing in different countries to provide the best possible care for the vulnerable children.

Sr. Mary Margaret Itadal of the Little Sisters of St. Francis poses outside of her office at Budaka Cheshire Home in eastern Uganda. (Gerald Matembu)

Sr. Mary Margaret Itadal of the Little Sisters of St. Francis* poses outside of her office at Budaka Cheshire Home in eastern Uganda. The center, which was started in 1970 to improve the quality of life for children with disabilities, under the Catholic Care for Children program, now serves as a short-term foster care and transition care center where the child is admitted awaiting return to the community so that they are adopted by other families. (Gerald Matembu)

“Catholic Care for Children functions well in three countries — Zambia, Uganda and Kenya. It’s associated very closely with the conference of religious in each country, and we see that as a very good model,” said Murray in an interview with Global Sisters report. “We can move our focus to supporting family life because we know that 80% of children are not orphans but have a living parent or a family structure, and that family structure can be helped to keep the child at home.” UISG is carefully considering other countries where the model can be implemented, she said.

Poverty and family breakdown have contributed to the growth of institutional care, said Kathleen Mahoney, a program officer of GHR Foundation, which has “Children in Families” as one of its program areas. Through the respective religious associations, GHR has been providing funding in the three countries for the training of sisters in social work, case management and child care programs, and assisting in the transition from institutional to family care.

“GHR has a long history of working with Catholic sisters around the globe, and we really see them as tremendous spiritual and social asset for the world,” she said. The social and spiritual aspects came together in Zambia and Uganda and recently in Kenya where “we really see sisters at the helm,” she said. “Catholic Care for Children is a sister-led, charism-driven movement to improve care for children. We see real potential for this to grow.”

Global Sisters Report reported from Uganda, Zambia and Kenya on the program models and how UISG is aiming to play a role in expanding these models to elsewhere in the world and trying to de-emphasize institutional care.

Sr. Mary Lunyolo, a member of Sisters of Mary of Kakamega, explains the new child integration guidelines. (Gerald Matembu)

Sr. Mary Lunyolo, a member of Sisters of Mary of Kakamega, explains the new child integration guidelines. (Gerald Matembu)


Uganda

The Catholic Care for Children’s initial pilot project started in Uganda five years ago. The initiative began when the government of Uganda raised a red flag over poor quality of care in childcare institutes across the country, especially those run by the churches. The government threatened to close several children’s homes, including those belonging to the religious sisters because of a lack of training to handle children, according to sisters interviewed for this article.

The East African nation had about 36 residential child care institutions in 1996, and now has an estimated 800 institutional care centers with around 150,000 children, according to available data published in 2019. Only 70 institutions are licensed by the Ugandan Ministry of Gender, Labor and Social Development, according to this report.

Catholic Care for Children in Uganda (CCCU) sought to reform child care institutes with the objective of ensuring a stable and secure family environment for every child. CCCU, which is an initiative of the Association of Religious in Uganda (ARU) and financially supported by GHR Foundation, began by training dozens of religious caregivers on the importance of family care rather than institutional care.

CCCU offered scholarships to more than 80 religious sisters in the areas of social work and social administration. A majority of the sisters attained a bachelor’s degree in social work, some obtained master’s degrees in social work, and others trained in a certificate course on protection of children. The sisters received their training at Makerere University in Uganda, in partnership with the Ministry of Gender, Labor and Social Development.

Sr. Mary Lunyolo, a member of Sisters of Mary of Kakamega, said the motive of training was to help the sisters with skills to support family reintegration, avert future family separation and finally end institutionalization within Uganda, a country of 44 million people.

“Many of the childcare institutes were run by sisters who had inadequate skills on institutional childcare,” said Lunyolo. “But many of our sisters right now have received training in various aspects of childcare.”

Lunyolo is the administrator of St. Kizito Babies Home, which was established in 1968 to care for babies whose mothers died during childbirth. It now serves as a short-term foster care and transition care center. Children are admitted awaiting return to the community so that they are adopted by other families, she said.

Sr. Mary Lunyolo, a member of Sisters of Mary of Kakamega, poses for a photo with Rachael Weginga, a social worker at St. Kizito Baby's Home in eastern Uganda. (Gerald Matembu)

Sr. Mary Lunyolo, a member of Sisters of Mary of Kakamega, poses for a photo with Rachael Weginga, a social worker at St. Kizito Baby’s Home in eastern Uganda. (Gerald Matembu)


She said the home, which admits children from newborns to age 3, has been able to reintegrate 18 children, who are monitored in the community by sister caseworkers. Lunyolo estimated that thousands of children have been integrated with family members or adoptive families since the program began in various centers run by religious women in Uganda.

“The initiative is really working well because the community has bought into the idea,” she said, noting that age levels and policies had to be changed. “Previously this home used to keep children up to 9 years, but now we strictly see them off within 3 years under the new policy.” Sisters had been reintegrating dozens of children every week, she said, before the pandemic.

However, the COVID-19 pandemic and lockdown, has hampered the new policy of permanent unification in various centers across the country, Lunyolo said. The institution could not hold social meetings and trainings due to COVID-19 restrictions, which also hampered the ability to place children with foster parents.

“Sisters are not able to receive more children at their centers right now because they do not have the necessary check-up and isolation facilities,” she said. “Visitors and parents are also not allowed to visit the centers for reintegration or adoption.”

The reintegration process can have shortcomings that expose the child to more risk of abuse and neglect in the hands of the caregivers, especially relatives, said Lunyolo.

“Sometimes you find all is well, but sometimes you find there is a problem,” said Lunyolo, clarifying that the majority of caregivers lack parenting skills or financial resources to care for the children. “Some of the resettled children hardly receive the parental care from the caregivers as majority of them often lack parenting skills or are economically handicapped.” The region, which includes Mbale in the eastern part of Uganda, ranks almost double the country’s poverty index, at 40% compared with the national average of 21.4%, according to the Uganda National household survey in 2016-17.

Srs. Caroline Ngatia, at left, in white veil, and Caroline Cheruiyot, far right, and members of the staff work together on behalf of the street children, some of whom are pictured here, at Kwetu Home of Peace in Nairobi, Kenya. (Doreen Ajiambo)

Srs. Caroline Ngatia, at left, in white veil, and Caroline Cheruiyot, far right, and members of the staff work together on behalf of the street children, some of whom are pictured here, at Kwetu Home of Peace in Nairobi, Kenya. The center, which is run by the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Sisters of Eldoret, since 1993 had been taking in homeless. (Doreen Ajiambo)

Sisters try to address such issues by providing startup kits, which include basic requirements such as food, clothing and bedding. In some cases, they offer income generating activities such as poultry keeping and livestock rearing. The institution also equips economically limited parents with skills such as hair dressing, tailoring and small business to boost their livelihood.

The home sensitizes parents and the community on child protection, which includes parenting skills training prior to the transition. The institution also makes follow up visits for two years to ascertain the welfare of the child. If conditions are not good, their intervention is limited to reporting to the probation officer, who by law reserves discretionary power to delay the unification or recall the child from the caregiver if the child is deemed to be unsafe. Where necessary, the institution links the children to partner non-governmental organizations for further support, said Rachael Weginga, a social worker attached to St. Kizito Babies Home.

Catholic Care for Children Institutes Uganda is emphasizing a holistic approach to transitional care, including family counseling and economic strengthening and parenting, aimed at ensuring that the family or foster care giver is ready to receive the child, based on the “do no harm” principle. “It is not about taking the child home,” said Joseph Ssentongo, an official from the Kampala-based CCCU secretariat.

The Catholic Care initiative in Uganda now works with nearly 20 religious institutes operating 46 child care institutions with almost 2,000 children. The pilot program, which began in 2016 and ends in December 2021, is being implemented in three phases.

The first phase of the project started with CCCU assessing religious caregivers’ skills and qualifications to run the institutional care. In its second phase, CCCU carried out research to find out whether religious sisters running the institutions were implementing the legal frameworks for child protection.

 Sr. Winnie Mutuku of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul founded Upendo Street Children (USC), an organization that serves homeless boys in Kitale, Kenya. She is already championing the importance of family care for children. (Provided photo)

Sr. Winnie Mutuku of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul founded Upendo Street Children (USC), an organization that serves homeless boys in Kitale, Kenya. She is already championing the importance of family care for children. (Provided photo)

The results from the two phases revealed that there was greater need for training to be done on child protection so that sisters caring for children are able to carry out their duties with skills and qualifications required, said Lunyolo.

The issue of funding is also delaying the new model of permanent integration, Lunyolo said. The institutions still need support to care for children on a temporary basis, to identify caregivers and provide needed support and resettlement packages to families and foster parents. This has led the Association of Religious in Uganda to launch a CCCU Fundraising and Transitioning Donors program aimed at winning the hearts of donors to support the new model.

Brian Carroll, founder and chief executive officer of Markempa, company that provides empathy-based marketing services, is championing the donor transition program. The program seeks to address funding gaps that are choking transitional care in many Christian child care institutions.

“Early on, we discovered there was a significant need to establish fundraising basics for the Christian child care institutions that included doing consistent donor outreach to get new donors via phone, email, social media, and face-to-face,” he said. More than 10 institutions have registered tremendous progress in one year, he said, to support the transition into community-based and family care.

Zambia

A three-year pilot program through the Zambia Association of Sisterhoods started in 2019 is reintegrating children from institutions into family and community care, building on practical experience from Uganda and research conducted earlier in Zambia.

The southern African nation had about 8,335 children living in institutional care, according to government data cited in a 2016 research report by Catholic Relief Services (CRS) and sponsored by the GHR Foundation. The children lived in 190 residential care facilities, with 40 being Catholic-affiliated.

The research looked in-depth at Catholic residential care facilities and what was needed to preserve families and promote alternative family-based care. Poverty — being unable to afford school fees or food — was the primary reason for placement in institutions, with the death of a parent as the second-most common reason, the research found. Plans for a Catholic Care for Children Zambia (CCCZ) program began in 2017 with the formal pilot project starting two years later.

Catholic Care for Children Zambia plans to integrate 60 children from institutional care to family care in the three-year pilot project period that ends in December 2021, according to Sr. Cecilia Nakambo, project coordinator for CCCZ. Two residential facilities were identified as initial sites for reintegration efforts, St. Martins Children’s Home in the Lufwanyama district, and Lubatsi Home in Livingstone.

So far, 48 children have so far been reunited with their families from the two residential care facilities, Nakambo said. Notable signs of success include developing processes for proper documentation, planning and preparing the child to bond with its family, and engaging the family for the integration process, including identifying needed resources, she said. Resources can include food, school fees, clothing and transportation costs as most children come from rural areas.

Training of sisters and other caregivers in case management and counseling was particularly important. “We thought that a child could easily reunite with their family without proper assessment or investigations on whether they will easily be embraced back and even when they were not ready to be reintegrated,” she said. The sisters also work with a government department to help find family members and reunite them with the children.

Sr. Cecilia Nakambo of the Little Sisters of St. Francis is the project coordinator for Catholic Care for Children Zambia. (Derrick Silimina)

Sr. Cecilia Nakambo of the Little Sisters of St. Francis is the project coordinator for Catholic Care for Children Zambia. (Derrick Silimina)

Catholic Care for Children Zambia aims to improve the wellbeing of children by continuing to provide counseling to family members of the 48 children and others who are reintegrated, in a second phase of the program after the pilot program ends in 2021. A review of the pilot project will determine if the reintegration program expands to include more children, Nakambo said.

Training is also being provided to caregivers within the two residential care facilities, she said. “We have carried out a number of trainings such as in case management, reintegration, trauma counseling, and basic qualification care for children which helps caregivers serve effectively, and how to protect and know a child’s rights in a facility,” said Nakambo, adding that much of the practical knowledge has been acquired from the initial project in Uganda.

As much as Care for Children Zambia favors the idea of child integration, the residential facilities produced notable members of Zambian society, including some senior government officials, she said, opting to not identify them to protect their privacy. However, the new method of reintegration with families has even greater likelihood of producing responsible members of society, she added.

“Through the help of GHR, we are carrying out this pilot activities and I can see that reintegration is possible in the new guidelines, as well as what is needed, how much, who is on board or its challenges among other factors,” Nakambo said.

Recently, the CCCZ organized a counseling workshop for 35 children who are traumatized from various orphanages in Lusaka. Reintegration is key for children in orphanages to alleviate trauma, said Charity Shaba, the professional child counselor who led the workshop.

“We have managed to counsel children against the effects of mental stress, and most of them are now opening up and coming out of the trauma they had been going through,” Shaba said.

The Zambia Association of Sisterhoods is doing a great job to spearhead the reintegration program because children have been living in various orphanages not knowing who they really are, and have been traumatized after being orphaned or abandoned by their parents, Shaba said.

“I feel the program will help children discover who they really are as individuals and find their own family identity. In the near future, I think we will have better family set ups because what they just know is their foster parents from the caregiver institutions and to them that is a normal way of life,” she said.

Children play at Kwetu Home of Peace in Nairobi, Kenya. The home is a rehabilitation center for street boys between the ages 8 and 14 years old. (Provided photo)

Children play at Kwetu Home of Peace in Nairobi, Kenya. The home is a rehabilitation center for street boys between the ages 8 and 14 years old. (Provided photo)

Kenya

When the East African nation began taking steps in 2018 to reduce the number of children in institutional care, there were estimated 42,000 children in over 854 children’s homes across the country.

The government announced a long-standing action plan towards deinstitutionalization of children. It also further placed a moratorium on the registration of institutions, revoking some of the licenses of adoption agencies.

The government’s emphasis on deinstitutionalization helped spur research and discussion among sisters in 2018 about a Catholic Care for Children program in Kenya, which formally began a year later. One key aspect is to draw on the long-time experience of one of the local congregations in reintegrating children with families.

Since 1993, religious sisters at Kwetu Home of Peace, a rehabilitation center for street boys, has focused on tracing families of displaced children and preparing these children to return home.  Other institutional care centers, especially those run by the Catholic Church, also began following this model of reintegration.

The center, which is run by the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Sisters of Eldoret, accommodates homeless boys ages 8 to 14 who are rescued from the streets and slums in Nairobi and elsewhere and inducted into a process of reintegration. Three times a year, about 60 boys are taken into the program.

Sr. Hellen Simiyu, administrator of the center, said that using a scorecard during reintegration, sisters assess the family’s needs and provide financial assistance as necessary. The center has reintegrated more than 4,500 children since 1993, with a long-term success rate of about 80%. To ensure that reintegration is successful, it is as vital to invest in families as it is in children, she said.

“We pick boys from the streets; after three weeks, we do home visiting and home tracing where we talk to parents and local leaders on the importance of accepting these children back to the families,” said Simiyu. “Most of the boys we pick from the streets either have one parent or poor guardians who cannot take care of them; therefore, they end up on the streets.”

Simiyu said that the model has been successful because of the strict adherence of all reintegration processes. They usually call the parents, an education officer from the government, and the area government official to ensure the safety of the child and for easy follow-up, she said.

Children should also be at the heart of reintegration efforts, she said. “Children should be listened to and involved in each stage of the process,” she said, admitting that in some cases family reintegration fails because children returning to their families may not be in their best interests. “For children who don’t have parents, we always get willing people from the church, others even volunteer from different institutions and they agree to support the child through foster parenthood.”

Frank Kinuthia, 20, who now lives in a family unit after sisters from Kwetu Home of Peace in Kenya found him a home seven years ago, said he was now doing better socially, emotionally and physically than when he was at the center. (Provided photo)

Frank Kinuthia, 20, who now lives in a family unit after sisters from Kwetu Home of Peace in Kenya found him a home seven years ago, said he was now doing better socially, emotionally and physically than when he was at the center. (Provided photo)


Children interviewed said they are pleased with the model. Frank Kinuthia, 20, who now lives in a family unit after sisters from Kwetu Home of Peace found him a home seven years ago, said he was now doing better socially, emotionally and physically than when he was at the center.

“I’m happy to be in a family because I have learned to love and cherish every moment,” said Kinuthia, who was taken in from the streets of Nairobi in 2009 after both parents died. The sisters found him a family among members of a parish after searching for several months. “It’s a good feeling to have parents and siblings. They act as a role model. These parents will always encourage you to do good things and live in harmony with others.”

Simiyu said the launching of Catholic Care for Children International will further implement this initiative for the sake of young children. “We are very happy with this initiative because it confirms what we have been doing,” she said. “We are going to double our efforts to ensure every child has a normal life.”

Sr. Winnie Mutuku who manages Upendo Street Children, a project run by the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul in Kitale town in western Kenya, said she has already began championing  the importance of family care for children after learning the model from Kwetu Home of Peace and other Catholic affiliated centers.

“Since we began reintegration last year in March, we have reintegrated 46 children so far,” she said, adding that now her center aims to restore dignity to the homeless children, educate them and reunite them with their respective families. “I am in total support of the UISG initiative to make sure that every child gets a home. It is the best way to go and also solution to many negative social effects that are currently affecting the youths.”

Mutuku who won a presidential order of service award last year for feeding street children amid COVID-19, said her center hasn’t reintegrated any children this year because they were still doing home tracing.The center rescues 20 to 30 children twice a year from the streets. They stay at the center for three to six months for rehabilitation before the process of reintegration begins, she said.

After reintegration, Mutuku said “we do a follow up at least for a year to ensure the safety and sustainability of the children just to ensure they don’t go back to the streets,”

“When I see children in a loving home or with parents, my heart is at peace,” she concluded. “I hope this noble initiative by UISG will be adopted by many more institutions even if they are not sister- or church-led.”

Sr. Delvin Mukhwana, who is responsible for safeguarding and promoting quality care for children at the Association of Sisterhoods in Kenya (AOSK) and the project manager for Catholic Care for Children Kenya, told GSR that she was planning to reduce the number of children in residential care by holding workshops to bring in important community stakeholders to create family care models that include family reintegration, foster care, and domestic adoption.

The workshops for community members and the training of sisters from various congregations about the guidelines of transitional care began in July 2019, but have been more difficult to continue because of COVID-19 restrictions. The sisters do hold some virtual meetings to discuss the progress of reintegration.

“We are involving everyone in this process of reintegration. We are currently working with the institutions that have already begun this initiative by educating them on how they should proceed moving forward after reintegration,” said Mukhwana, of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Sisters of Eldoret. “We specifically educate them on the importance of family to the growth of a child.”

*An earlier version of this story gave the wrong community.

[Gerald Matembu is a reporter in Uganda and Derrick Silimina is a reporter in Zambia.]


Doreen Ajiambo is the Africa/Middle East correspondent for Global Sisters Report. Follow her on Twitter: @DoreenAjiambo.


Gerald Matembu is a multimedia journalist based in Mbale Town, Eastern Uganda. He is a reporter and bureau chief for Next Media Services (NBS Television, Nile Post and Next Radio), a leading media company in Uganda.


Derrick Silimina is an award-winning multimedia journalist based in Lusaka, Zambia, whose work has appeared on many media platforms in Zambia and abroad.

Funeral directors survive ‘surreal’ year with creativity and faith

Funeral directors survive ‘surreal’ year with creativity and faith

Video Courtesy of VICE News


There are no signs in front yards hailing the men and women who sometimes wryly call themselves “last responders.”

But for funeral directors across the country, like medical professionals, this has been a year like no other.

“There is no way to explain it,” said Stephen Kemp, 61, director of Kemp Funeral Home & Cremation Services of Southfield, Michigan, which borders Detroit. “I will never forget it as long as I live. In terms of sheer volume, it was surreal.”

In a normal month, Kemp estimates, he handles arrangements for about 30 bodies. In April, said Kemp, he did 152, mostly African American men. Now, even as his monthly toll has settled to about 40, he’s seeing people with comorbid conditions succumbing to the long-term effects of the disease.

A member of a United Methodist Church, Kemp said that he couldn’t do what he does without spiritual support. “I consider what we do as a ministry. You have to be a person of faith.”

On the other hand, said Kemp, who is Black, there were times when he talked to God and asked, “Lord, what are you doing here? What message are you trying to tell us? Spiritually, it affected me. It just seemed like it (the virus) was killing our community.”

In this April 22, 2020 file photo, friends and family of Larry Hammond who were among only 10 mourners allowed, sit in chairs spaced for social distancing, during his funeral at Boyd Funeral Home in New Orleans. (AP Photo/Gerald Herbert, File)

Less than an hour to the west in Ann Arbor, the numbers of infection were much lower than in the Detroit area, but the emotional toll was no less punishing. With distanced and virtual funerals, many families could not be with their loved ones as they died, due to restrictions on visitors at hospitals.

“It was pretty difficult,” said Douglas “Dutch” Nie, who runs a funeral home founded by his parents. “We know how important it is to grieve as a community. Families were just at a loss.”

Francis X. Givnish, supervisor at Mauger-Givnish Funeral Home in Malvern, Pennsylvania, a Philadelphia suburb, said he’s painfully aware that, because of pandemic restrictions on hospital visitors, many didn’t have a chance to say a proper goodbye. “It’s a sad situation. Sometimes the next time a family sees their loved one is here.”

Givnish, 55, who comes from a family of funeral directors, said he also gets overwhelmed occasionally but he owes it to the people he’s serving not to show it. “You have to have a steady hand,” he said. “Because they are looking to you as a professional.” Instead, he asks God for “help for the families.”

Nie is concerned for his staff as well as his clients. “They’ve got families and they’ve got fears,” he said. The labradoodle who normally visits with grieving families has been getting a lot of attention from employees, he said, “just dealing with the emotions they have.”

Nie currently serves as secretary to the National Funeral Directors Association, which produced resources to help funeral home staff and families through the pandemic. “There’s a saying in our industry that while wedding planners get six months, we get three days to plan a service.”

With safety considerations forcing families to delay memorials, opt for outdoor celebrations or move to online forums such as Zoom, “this year has kind of turned us into wedding planners,” Nie said.

But Nie’s staff members also tell him they are getting a higher amount of positive feedback from clients grateful for their resourcefulness. “Families just seem to be more appreciative of the efforts,” Nie said, “so that they feel fulfilled and, you know, that’s why they are doing what they are doing.”

Nora Menkin, executive director of the People’s Memorial Association, a funeral industry consumer advocacy group in Washington state, said staff meetings at the funeral home run by her organization now include what Menkin calls “‘oh, poor baby’ time, when everyone can decompress.”

Before the pandemic, PMA created a “good news jar,” into which employees tossed notes about encouraging events and pulled them out and shared when needed. It has come in handy in the past 11 months. “We have so many wonderful people that we work with, and so many wonderful situations and stories, that we need to elevate them when the difficult stuff comes around,” Menkin said.

As they reflect on what they have learned from working during the almost yearlong crisis, the word that these funeral directors use again and again is “creative.”

“We do get asked, what would be normal in this situation,” said Menkin. “But there is no normal, especially right now. It’s a lot of conversation about teasing out what’s important to the family.”

Though it’s hard to see any good coming out of tragedy, Amy Cunningham of New York’s Fitting Tribute Funeral Services, which specializes in green burials, said the pandemic’s one upside may be that it has reminded people that “thinking about the end of life is actually a healthy way to live, one that clarifies your mission on earth and helps you move forward.” (Cunningham’s husband is a board member of the Religion News Foundation.)

That principle, she noted, is a tenet of world religions, including Buddhism, Judaism and Christianity.

While nobody wanted to think of death before the pandemic, “now I think it’s very clear to people that it’s really smart to have some thoughts on paper and commit a file into the hands of your family members,” she said.

Now, said Cunningham, she and her colleagues have time to spend at professional meetings comparing notes and asking: What part of that is good, and something we want to continue to do? What have we learned from this crisis about technology, Zoom, memorial events held remotely, streaming services?

She said funeral directors are letting themselves “be proud of just managing.” Last spring, New York City funeral directors scrambled to keep up with more than 24,000 deaths than normal.

“In the end, there was no finer hour for funeral directors in New York City,” Cunningham said.

Navigating a cascade of practical difficulties while addressing the needs of grieving families took “a cool head and a kind of confidence you were doing the best you could,” said Cunningham.

At the same time, she said, “when you’re turning people away, you pick up the sorrow of the families. There was a cumulative despair among all of us. We’re educated and wired to be as helpful as we can be and give people meaningful experiences. Many of us felt we were failing because we couldn’t do enough, fast enough.”

A journalist before getting her funeral director’s license in her mid-50s, Cunningham, now 65, said that though she could not have anticipated the enormous amount of suffering and loss of the past 10 months, she realized that “spiritually, as well as academically, maybe I was in the right place at that right time, and that everything I’ve learned has led me to this point.

“Now I feel like I’m exactly where I want to be, as hard as this is.”

Henry Louis Gates’ new book and TV series distills centuries of Black church history

Henry Louis Gates’ new book and TV series distills centuries of Black church history

Video Courtesy of Henry Louis Gates, Jr.


The history of Black Christianity in America will come to television screens this month in a documentary series based on a new book by Henry Louis “Skip” Gates Jr., a Harvard University historian who is simultaneously an admirer and a critic of its influential role in American society.

Gates’ book, “ The Black Church: This Is Our Story, This Is Our Song,” will be released Tuesday (Feb. 16), the same day the four-hour documentary will begin a two-day run on PBS stations, airing at 9 p.m. EST. Musicians John Legend and Yolanda Adams are featured in the series.

Gates, who describes himself as a “spiritual person,” said at a virtual news conference Friday (Feb. 5) that while he is a critic of the Black church’s history of male domination and homophobia, he has celebrated its culture and rejoiced in what it has overcome.

Gates said that during his summer visits to Martha’s Vineyard, he attends services at Union Chapel, which features prominent Black preachers. “We all come together to experience that circle of warmth,” he told Religion News Service at the news conference.

When Black people come together for worship, he said, it is “a celebration of our culture, our history, of who we are, of how we got over, how we survived the madness, the claustrophobic madness of hundreds of years of slavery and then a century of Jim Crow and then anti-Black racism that we saw manifest itself at the Capitol.”

The series captures the broad sweep of this history in interviews with scholars and well-known Black clergy such as African Methodist Episcopal Bishop Vashti McKenzieBishop T.D. Jakes and the Rev. William J. Barber II.

Stacey Holman, who produced and directed the series, spoke to Religion News Service recently about how she and Gates distilled centuries of history into the four-hour series, her thoughts on the Black church’s future and how Oprah Winfrey made the final call on the name of the documentary.

The interview has been edited for length and clarity.

You have worked on films about the Freedom Riders and historically Black colleges and universities. What struck you most about the Black church history you helped present with Henry Louis Gates Jr.?

What struck me was that we did not come here empty-handed. There were Africans who were practicing Muslims who were brought here in the transatlantic slave trade. That connection still exists today. A religion that is very actively practiced among Black people was here when this country was first being formed. Also, just how rich the history is and just how there’s so much connective tissue to Africa, to our worship and to our praise.

Mixed in with the interviews with scholars and clergy are the personal stories of Black celebrities about the Black church. Whose stories did you find to be particularly worth telling?

I think Kirk Franklin ’s story was quite moving. He talked about his friend that he lost, who was killed, and someone who was a good kid, and he was not, so — one of those situations where it’s like, wow, God, you spared my life. And I think even John Legend’s story, hearing how the church has really informed his career, but also how he was brought up and raised going to church and then becoming the choir director.

You’ve worked with Gates before. Was this series different because the subject matter related to him personally? At one point he breaks into song with Episcopal Church Presiding Bishop Michael Curry and tells some of his faith story from the pulpit of the West Virginia Methodist church he joined at age 12. 

Yes, very much so. When he was giving, as we say, his testimony, my crew was crying. It was just beautiful, just seeing him coming back home. When I have traveled to my grandparents’ church in southern Ohio, it was like that welcome home. And to see that with Skip just brought fond memories to me.

John Legend, who was an executive producer, as well as Shirley Caesar and Yolanda Adams talk about the importance of music. How did you address its influence in the Black church?

I think having those voices that you just mentioned were important. These are individuals who have used the music — John is more contemporary and pop and R&B, but there’s definitely elements of the church in what he plays. Even Kirk Franklin, the crossover songs that they’ve had, it just speaks to the richness that music has played over the centuries of the Black church.

The series shows various forms of faithful fervor, from ring shout to speaking in tongues. Why was it important to delve into that aspect of Black American faith?

I think that people think that’s all that the Black church is: We go in and people are hooting and hollering and jumping around. I think even just talking about the Great Awakening says, yeah, there were white folks doing it, too. So this whole idea of this fervor in worship is nothing new, but I think (the documentary is) really breaking it down so that people can understand the history of it. And it’s not an act. It’s a feeling. It’s an emotion that people get.

The show makes a revelation about the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s inspiration for the phrase ‘I have a dream.’

(Minister and civil rights activist) Prathia Hall was listed (as an influential preacher) by the pastors we asked — at least a good third or half of them would say Prathia Hall. And I didn’t really know that story until we sat with Reverend Senator (Raphael) Warnock. I was amazed. It just spoke to the testimony of just how influential Black women are in the church and were influencing major iconic speeches. We’re running churches; we are really the staples behind the everyday activity. Our series will really give her the limelight that she’s due.

Franklin and Legend talk about their anger with the Black church for rejecting changes in music and society. Can the Black church survive the rejection of some millennials and some Black Lives Matter activists?

I think it’s a case-by-case situation. It’s a denominational question as well. Certain stories that we left on the cutting room floor were really looking at that question. There are some churches that we spoke to that are really trying to engage that. I know Reverend (Otis) Moss III, his (Chicago) church is engaged in Black Lives Matter. I do believe there are churches that will need to kind of say, hey, we need to kind of catch up with the times and embrace this. But I think the church has always been evolving and will continue to evolve.

How did you distill Henry Louis Gates’ research, and that of so many others, into just a four-show series?

It was a privilege and it was like, “Oh my gosh, I’m telling 400 years in four hours.” Just to work with him was great. He gives you that freedom as a creator (where) you’re able to collaborate and talk with him about your ideas. We did argue about the title of the film. I wanted it to be “How I Got Over,” and he was like, “Oh, ‘Blessed Assurance’ (whose chorus begins ‘This is my story, this is my song’).” And then, who broke the tie but Oprah Winfrey. Skip gave her a list of names and she left a voicemail, singing, “This is our story. This is our song.” And so he’s like, “See? That’s the title.”

Do you know the history of The Brownies’ Book?

Do you know the history of The Brownies’ Book?

A newspaper boy hawks copies of the Chicago Defender.
Library of Congress

Hanging on the wall in my office is the framed cover of the inaugural issue of The Brownies’ Book, a monthly periodical for Black youths created by W.E.B. Du Bois and other members of the NAACP in 1920.

The magazine – the first of its kind – includes poems and stories that speak of Black achievement and history, while also showcasing children’s writing.

Although much of American children’s literature published near the turn of the last century – and even today – filters childhood through the eyes of white children, The Brownies’ Book gave African American children a platform to explore their lives, interests and aspirations. And it reinforced what 20th-century American literature scholar Katharine Capshaw has described as Du Bois’ “faith in the ability of young people to lead the race into the future.”

Most likely inspired by The Brownies’ Book, several Black weekly newspapers went on to create their own children’s sections. While the children’s publishing industry may have shut out Black voices and perspectives, the editors of these periodicals sought to fill the void by celebrating them, giving kids a platform to express themselves, connect with one another and indulge their curiosities.

A pioneering publication

The cover image of that first issue of The Brownies’ Book, published in January 1920, epitomizes this effort. In it, a young Black girl stands on the tips of her toes, dressed in a ballet costume.

Already, this image represented a radically different vision of Black childhood. Children’s literature of the late 19th and early 20th centuries very rarely focused on African Americans. The few Black children who did appear in print were often written or drawn as variations of Topsy, the enslaved young girl from Harriet Beecher Stowe’s “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” who is initially considered “naughty” only to be redeemed by Eva, who plays the role of the “white savior.”

A smiling girl dressed in white raises her arms and stands en pointe.
The inaugural issue of ‘The Brownies’ Book.‘
Library of Congress

As children’s literature scholar Michelle H. Martin has noted, “children who wanted to read about black characters in children’s literature could read about buffoons, mammies, Sambos or savages,” but not about “the beauty” of Black children.

The girl on The Brownies’ Book cover offers a vastly different vision of Black childhood than the caricatures seen throughout popular culture of the time. She’s confident, excited and talented. The pages that follow feature an assortment of fiction, commentary, history and news for young readers that honors and extols Black identity.

One of the most compelling recurring sections is titled “The Jury,” which features children’s letters to the editor. In the magazine’s first issue, a boy named Franklin writes to ask about “things colored boys can work at when they grow up.” Eleanor wants the editor to recommend “some books on the Negro” so that she “can learn more about [her] race.” And a 15-year-old girl inquires about possible funding sources so that she can attend a boarding school that accepts African American students.

The Brownies’ Book had a relatively short run – 24 issues from January 1920 to December 1921. But it nonetheless seems to have encouraged a number of other Black newspapers to launch children’s sections in the early 1920s. The Pittsburgh Courier, Baltimore’s Afro-American and the Journal and Guide, published in Norfolk, Virginia, each experimented with children’s sections.

But by far the most successful effort was that of the Chicago Defender, which would launch a periodical section for Black youths that ran for decades.

‘Let us make the world know that we are living’

The Chicago Defender was perhaps the most influential Black newspaper of the 20th century. Its readership extended across the United States, and it helped spur the Great Migration, a time during which millions of African Americans left the South, by promoting job opportunities in Northern industrial cities like Chicago. Roi Ottley, biographer of Defender publisher Robert S. Abbott, wrote that only the Bible was more significant to Black Americans during the first half of the 20th century.

It contains spaces for a child's name, address, age, city and state.
An application form to join the Bud Billiken Club from the April 29, 1922, edition of the Chicago Defender.
ProQuest Historical Newspapers

In 1921, the Chicago Defender started publishing a section called the Defender Junior, run by a fictional editor named Bud Billiken. Billiken was really a 10-year-old boy named Willard Motley, who later became a noted novelist, though sometimes the paper’s adult editors wrote under Billiken moniker. In his first column, Billiken tells readers that he wants to fill “this column with sayings and doings of we little folks,” and implores them to submit their poems, questions and opinions.

Young readers could become members of the Bud Billiken Club by mailing in a form with their name, but they could also mail in letters and poetry as a way to correspond with their fellow Billikens. In June 1921, a girl named Ruth McBride of Oak Hill, Alabama, submitted the following letter to Bud:

“As I was reading the Chicago Defender a lovely paper of our Race, I came across some beautiful poems written by some of the members of your club. It filled my heart with joy to read such sweet poems. I am a little girl 9 years old, and I wish to join your club. If there is any space for me. I go to school and am in the fifth grade. My mother gets the Defender every week. Here is a poem I am sending:

  Down in the sunny South, where I was born,
  Where beautiful flowers are adoring,
  The daisies white and the purple lily.
  This is where the land is hilly."

In July 1921, Juanita Johnson of Washington, D.C., sent the Defender Junior her poem:

  "When you are lonely and don’t know what to do,
  When you must admit that you are feeling blue, 
  Take your pen in hand, my dear child, I entreat,
  And write the B.B. Club something nice and sweet.
  Your blues will depart, I’ll surely guarantee.
  You’ll cheer up at once, for so it is with me."

Black children could find – or at least attempt to find – their voices on the pages of these periodicals. For Bud Billiken, there was no greater urgency. In his introduction to the April 23, 1921, edition, he tells the story of a fly that “sat on the axle of a chariot wheel and said, ‘What a dust I do make.’”

“The fly imagines that he is causing the wheel to go around,” Billiken continues. “Let us not be like the fly, thinking we are doing something when really we only move as the world moves us.”

He concludes by writing, “The world would move on if we were not in it. This paper would be published just the same without our space. Let us make the world know that we are living and helping to make the noise and dust.”

The Defender Junior proved popular – so popular that the newspaper launched the Bud Billiken Parade in 1929 in Chicago’s South Side. By midcentury, the annual parade had become one of the largest gatherings of African Americans in the U.S., attracting national figures such as Duke Ellington and Muhammad Ali. In 2020, the beloved event was canceled for the first time in 91 years due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

A birds-eye view of a throng of kids marching in the parade.
Kids march during the 1967 Bud Billiken Parade in Chicago.
Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images

The Brownies’ Book, the Defender Junior and the children’s sections of other African American weeklies gave Black children a space to tell their stories, express their anxieties and assert their ambitions.

In that photograph of the ballerina on The Brownie’s Book’s first cover, I imagine her saying something similar to Bud Billiken’s appeal – “Let us make the world know that we are living.”

Or perhaps more simply, “Black lives matter.”

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Paige Gray, Professor of Writing and Liberal Arts, Savannah College of Art and Design

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

3 ways Black people say their white co-workers and managers can support them and be an antidote to systemic racism

3 ways Black people say their white co-workers and managers can support them and be an antidote to systemic racism

People of color say they want office allies who offer honest feedback.
10’000 Hours/DigitalVision via Getty Images

Jennifer R. Joe, University of Delaware and Wendy K. Smith, University of Delaware

President Joe Biden committed the U.S. government to racial equity by issuing four executive orders on Jan. 26 that seek to curb systemic racism. In the orders, he cited the killing of George Floyd in 2020, which sparked months of protests and prompted many U.S. companies to likewise commit themselves – and hundreds of billions of dollars – to helping Black Americans overcome institutional discrimination.

Shortly after the protests began last year, we hosted a panel that addressed this very topic. Held on Juneteenth, the webinar featured four Black women – including one of us – who poignantly shared their own frequent encounters with racial bias in job interviews, shopping for clothes and even working with their peers.

A common question we got from the predominantly white audience was some variation on “How can I be an ally?” That is, a lot of people wanted to know what they can do as friends, colleagues and managers to support African Americans in overcoming ongoing discrimination and bias and achieving success.

This prompted us – business scholars with a keen interest in diversity, one white, one Black – to try to find an answer to these questions of how white people can support their Black colleagues. So we interviewed five successful Black professionals and the mostly white “allies” they said were instrumental to their achievements to see if we could find an antidote to racial bias in the workplace.

Three themes stood out from this ongoing research, which we plan to submit for peer review.

Systemic bias

Racism often seems embedded in the fabric of Black people’s everyday lives. And it’s not just being treated differently by the police, which was the impetus for the 2020 protests.

Black people even experience bias from well-meaning schoolteachers, neighbors, colleagues and managers. Small acts of reckless disregard build toward broad racial disparities.

Therefore, we sought to understand the small acts of resolute connection that could shift the tide toward greater justice and equity.

Using our own networks, we reached out to five Black professionals in a range of industries – financial services, packaged foods and sports management – who were all in executive roles in their organizations. We asked them to think of the individuals who were instrumental to their success and describe the specific support these people offered to help manage explicit or implicit moments of discrimination. Next, we interviewed the eight allies they identified – seven white, one Black.

These 13 in-depth interviews yielded key patterns about the simple ways to address racial bias that defy conventional wisdom. Unlike research that relies on surveys to get representative viewpoints, a qualitative approach allowed us to gain a richer, more comprehensive understanding of the factors and variables in these relationships that made them powerful.

Black Lives Matter protesters hold up posters. One reads 'Smash racism by any means necessary.'
Black Lives Matter protests targeted systemic racism.
AP Photo/Frank Augstein

Reciprocal relationships

Consistent with social exchange theory, we found that these relationships worked best when there was a partnership and both parties benefited.

People of color said they did not want to be objects of pity. Even the question “What can I do?” implies a power dynamic – someone in power reaching out to someone in need.

The people of color we spoke to found the strongest support when their allies recognized their talents and helped them apply these talents more effectively in the workplace. And that support was more authentic and trustworthy when both parties benefited from the relationship and learned from each other.

The Black professionals we interviewed said that they were already performing at a high level and trying to prove themselves invaluable, which made colleagues and managers who benefited from their efforts seek to promote them in the organization. The allies likewise said they supported Black workers because they saw their talent.

For example, one ally reported seeing that the dominant white macho culture in his organization did not appreciate his female Black colleague’s talent and was limiting her success. When he moved to a new company, as soon as he saw an opportunity he actively recruited her. The new role involved much more responsibility than her previous positions, but he convinced her that she could do it.

She told us that his ongoing support in the position encouraged her continued success. The relationship focused on talent, not pity, and benefited both parties.

Don’t avoid uncomfortable conversations

These relationships were not careful or guarded; they were straightforward and honest.

Past research has found that white supervisors often avoid giving critical feedback to Black subordinates and peers out of a fear of being viewed as biased. Yet it can be more biased to say nothing. Avoiding difficult conversations can impede a young professional’s upward mobility.

People of color need advice from more experienced individuals on how to successfully navigate racism traps that may exist in the workplace. They might be unaware that some of their actions or approaches are being perceived negatively in the office. These difficult conversations can strengthen relationships.

For example, an ally observed that although it was difficult, she considered it a managerial responsibility to tell her Black colleague that he was not meeting her expectations. Another ally reported explaining to a junior Black colleague that proving you are right to a supervisor may not always be beneficial if it harms your long-term career prospects.

These difficult but honest conversations helped shape the person of color’s conduct and laid the foundation for lifelong trusting connections.

Connect outside of work

Finally, it made a big difference to the people of color we interviewed when an ally tried to get to know them better as a person, not only in terms of work.

People are more productive at work when they feel that colleagues see them with nuance – with unique passions, talents and interests – rather than pigeonholing or stereotyping them based on race or gender. It also becomes a lot easier to champion and advocate for someone you know well.

But as a result of real or perceived racial barriers, Black professionals often report feeling anxious during work-related social engagements, in part because they say they don’t understand the rules. Black and white professionals also tend to move in different social circles outside of work.

Our interviewees said a key antidote to this came when allies made an effort to connect outside of work. Whether over a cup of coffee or a home-cooked meal, these social encounters allowed relationships to flourish and stereotypes to diminish.

One white ally we interviewed reported realizing that she often had white colleagues to her home for dinner but had never invited a Black colleague. So when discussing her vacation plans – a seven-day chartered Alaskan fishing trip – with a Black woman who worked in the same office, she discovered her co-worker’s husband loved fishing and invited them on the trip, where they bonded and formed a friendship.

Doing this doesn’t require becoming friends. It only means closing the “psychological distance” that can separate people along racial lines at work.

Kamala Harris takes the oath of office for vice president on Jan. 20.
Kamala Harris became the first Black U.S. vice president.
Greg Nash/Pool Photo via AP

A simple antidote

Black people in the U.S. are faced with a world that can make them feel both empowered and vulnerable. Recent scenes at the U.S. Capitol just two weeks apart sum up this jarring narrative.

On Jan. 20, Kamala Harris took the oath of office on the Capitol steps as the first Black vice president – and only hours later swore in the first Black senator from Georgia. Contrast that with images exactly two weeks earlier of white supremacists storming that very same building.

Americans face great challenges on the road to a more inclusive society. To be sure, addressing institutional racism requires systematic interventions by companies and substantial policy changes by the government. But our research suggests they also could use something simpler from their colleagues, managers and other in their lives: genuine relationships.

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Jennifer R. Joe, Professor of Accounting, University of Delaware and Wendy K. Smith, Professor of Business and Leadership, University of Delaware

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.