D.M. Aderibigbe

 

5 Responses to D.M. Aderibigbe

  1. carrollhackettma@longwood.edu says:

    DM, Thank you so so much for sharing this, and for being here with us. This line–“So for me the greatest wars are fought around tables and chairs, with spoons and forks. True peace should start from nowhere else but the family.”–stunning. I just don’t have words right now–except Thank you.

  2. Carmel Mawle says:

    This message is profound. Thank you so much for sharing it with us, Damilola.

  3. Semein Washington says:

    On the subject of peace, it’s nice to find a consensus that the problems in the society must be indications of problems at home. You point out that the family is often held in high regard but never really protected in so much as one member of the family can harm other members. This goes against the very idea of family yet is commonly the truth. We have to start by treating those closest to us well to even have an idea of the way we should be towards strangers.

  4. Jason Tsai says:

    DM, your message resonated with me largely because I struggled with the same conundrum with my biological family. As a child, it was so strange to study Confucius and his ideas on the family as the basic societal unit and ultimately the society’s uprightness. It was strange because I did not feel like my family or my friends’ family were upright or that there was great love amongst them. I felt like our families were made up of broken people who desperately wanted having their own family to save them from the family they came from. I believe you are right when you say that the greatest wars are fought at the table – because the table is where conversations can and should take place especially for people who are close beyond acquaintance. Not with fists, but with careful words and meals shared. Only then can we nurture our family’s well-being and in turn our society’s.

  5. Beasa Dukes says:

    Thank you for sharing this. In my own family there is this deep hurt that has settled itself for so long in some parts of my family. My granma can’t even look at my grandfather without her body folding into itself and her whole face going to stone. I don’t know the full story–I’m never sure who to ask–but it’s there siting on granma’s frail shoulders. But, the way our family shapes us, what we see, how it is mimicked or resisted I think is an important lesson. It really is. It’s hard to fall in love with yourself too even because your family has unintentionally reconstructed it in such a way that you cannot recognize it. Nursing the hurt in the family. Figuring out where the wound is, definitely something that needs to happen. Peace I think in a lot of ways trying to figure out how to stitch and repair where you hurt most–and sometimes that’s deep in the blood and deep in the line and the stories that go unheard within the family too.

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