“OPINION is really the lowest form of human knowledge. It requires no accountability, no understanding. The highest form of knowledge… is empathy, for it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another’s world. It requires profound purpose larger than the self kind of understanding.” –Bill Bullard
“Exposure to the art of writing – or rather, arts, there are many forms of writing – increases our ability to empathize…that art of feeling connected to the narrative fate of a character on a flat page, if you can empathize with that, it can wake up a dormant ability to empathize with others in the world around you, even when they look, behave or believe differently from you.” –Fred D’Aguiar, in Jessica Wolf’s UCLA College Report’s article.
Do you remember Kim Phuc, known as “Girl in the Picture,” who became a symbol of the Vietnam War? Her back was severely burned from an accidental napalm bomb, dropped by the South Vietnamese military in the Trang Bang, Tay Ninh province in Vietnam on June 8, 1972. She was just 9 years old.
Kim was running naked from black smoke and mayhem, as captured by Nick Ut, an Associated Press photographer.
In an interview with KABC 7, Ut described this experience: “I keep shooting, shooting pictures of Kim running. Then when she passed my camera, I saw her body burned so badly, I said, ‘Oh my God, I don’t want no more pictures.’ She was screaming and crying. She just said, ‘I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying,’ and, ‘I need some water, bring water.’ Right away, [I] run and put water on her body. I want to help her. I say no more pictures, I want to help Kim Phuc right away.” She was treated at a hospital; today, five decades later, her scars, known as keloids, are still being treated by lasers to reduce her pain from them.
Empathy flowed
I met Kim Phuc in West Los Angeles at a tony place in a hillside, decades ago. The hosts organized a fundraiser to finance Kim’s cosmetic surgeries. Dressed elegantly in white linen, she talked to us, in an amiable manner, while sharing objectively what happened to her, without bitterness, rancor or anger.
Candles illuminated the backyard, with lights reflected from the poolside, and a majestic view of the hillsides. It was as if our hearts melted, much like the perimeter candles, formed and linked as one source of light.
After Kim Phuc spoke, in less than 30 minutes, checks were written to underwrite her healing surgeries from her burns. When asked to show her scars, she discreetly moved into a private room, and to each person who wanted to see her burns, including myself, she gently peeled off the backside of her Haute couture blouse, designed to allow her arm movements, given her limited range of motions. Her back revealed a keloidal scarring, resembling variegated lace-like, interconnected roots of a tree, but with burnt flesh and swollen tissue.
The Associated Press described her decades-long suffering: “Triggered by scarred nerve endings that misfire at random, her pain is especially acute when the seasons change in Canada, where Phuc defected with her husband in early 1990s. The couple lives outside Toronto with her two sons, ages 21 and 18.
“Phuc says her Christian faith brought her physical and emotional peace “in the midst of hatred, bitterness, pain, loss, hopelessness,” when the pain seemed insurmountable. ‘No operation, no medication, no doctor can help to heal my heart. The only one is a miracle, [that] God loves me,’ she says. ‘I just wish one day I am free from pain.’”
In an interview with NPR, Kim Phuc spoke of forgiveness as freeing her from hatred. She told us that while her body might be in pain, her heart has been cleansed.
“If that little girl in the picture can do it, ask yourself: Can you?” NPR continues.
That question is also what I ask myself: can I be that forgiving?
“Napalm is very powerful, but faith, forgiveness and love are much more powerful. We would not have war at all if everyone could learn how to live with true love, hope, and forgiveness,” Kim Phuc added.
She is now receiving laser treatment from Dr. Jill Waibel in Florida, free of charge, to reduce her aches and pain, “almost all of her back.”
Syrian Refugee drowned: an opportunity for empathy
On September 3, 2015, 3-year-old Aylan Kurdi drowned. His body – clad in red shirt and blue pants – was washed ashore in a Turkish beach resort of Bodrum. “The boy’s family came from Kobani, where fierce fighting between Islamic state insurgents and Kurdish forces earlier this year,” The Guardian reported.
The family escaped Syria and by way of Turkey, tried to reach Canada. Their refugee applications were denied for incompleteness. Netizens on social media expressed their outrage through commentaries for about a week or so, using the hashtag #KiyiyaVuranInsanlik (humanity washed ashore).
In Canada, the newly elected Prime Minister Justin Trudeau personally welcomed 160 Syrian refugees this December. He said, “welcome to your new home,” shortly after they landed in Toronto. His treatment of Syrian refugees resonated with the world, as well as the Arabic world, reversing a nascent attitude of hostility from solidifying.
Unlike those preaching fears, Fred D’Aguiar is a former psychiatric nurse and his work is fueled by a creative practice and teaching aesthetic deeply imbued with a commitment to empathy. As D’Aguiar spoke to UCLA Today’s Jessica Wolf: “I am excited about the diverse demographic mix of Los Angeles, how it looks as a visual map of culture. If a course at UCLA can resemble that map, it’s very exciting.”
The next time we meet someone different, a foreigner, remember that his or her story is Jesus’ story. Perhaps, allow ourselves to walk more than a mile in their shoes and include them in our consciousness, to be part of our families, in thoughts, in deeds.
Barbara Kingsolver tells us that “Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It’s the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else’s pain is as meaningful as your own.”
In 1 John 4:18, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”
One who preaches fear is similarly not made perfect in love, whether clothed in priestly vestments, corporate business suits appearing on television, uniformed armed police or a teacher.
Much like a billboard, on the way to Glendale says, “Love is greater than fear. Fear is a liar. God is Love.”
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Prosy Abarquez-Delacruz, J.D. writes a weekly column for Asian Journal, called “Rhizomes.” She has been writing for Asian Journal Press for 9 years now. She contributes to Balikbayan Magazine. Her training and experiences are in the field of science, food technology, law and community volunteerism for 4 decades. She holds a B.S. degree from the University of the Philippines, a law degree from Whittier College School of Law in California and a certificate on 21st Century Leadership from Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government. She has been a participant in NVM Writing Workshops taught by Prof. Peter Bacho for 4 years and Prof. Russell Leong. She has travelled to France, Holland, Belgium and Mexico and 22 national parks in the US, in pursuit of her love for arts.
