Once
a year at Mill Grove we invite the whole extended family and friends
to come together for a day of thanksgiving and celebration. It’s
always on a Saturday in May, and comprises a lively participative
service in a local church, followed by an afternoon and evening
at home with refreshments, games, barbecue, audio-visuals, DVDs
and videos of highlights of the past year.
To
estimate how many came this year is difficult, partly because
there were so many, and partly because it wasn’t possible
to get everyone together at one time and place. I would guess
that between 400 and 500 people dropped in for at least part of
the day.
There
are other significant annual events that we celebrate without
fail as a community, including Easter, the May Bank Holiday, the
Summer Holiday in North Wales, Harvest, November Fifth, Founders’
Day on 20 November, and Christmas.
I
have long been convinced of the importance of communal rituals
for the health of any social group, not least because of the pioneering
work of Bruce Reed (The Dynamics of Religion, DLT, 1978), but
this May the personal and social significance of this annual occasion
became much clearer to me. Put simply I saw into how it was a
vehicle for the emotional and psychological healing of children
and young people.
For
a start there are those 1200 people who formerly lived as children
at Mill Grove, and who are now dispersed around the world. They
cannot join us every year but they recall the annual day, and
are always interested to know when it will be taking place and
what special people and events will occur. For them it is part
of the security of belonging to and being part of a living community
that draws from and respects the traditions of previous generations.
For
those who come back it is a chance to revisit the special places
of their childhood, nooks and crannies, with all the associations
they bring, and to meet others from the same era, to share memories
and recollections. For those who live too far away to return,
or who are infirm, the day provides the chance to get in touch
by phone, letter or email, and to be reassured that they are held
in our minds and hearts however long ago it was that they lived
here.
For
the youngsters who live here at present the day is a reassuring
reminder of the stability and security of Mill Grove. Such thanksgiving
days have continued uninterrupted since 1900. The children have
the opportunity to witness how much the place and the community
mean to those who lived here before them, and to realise that
it is valued by them.
They
also experience a foretaste of how it will be one day for them:
all things being equal, they will move on, but Mill Grove will
always be there for them. The reason they came to live at Mill
Grove in the first place was because their own families and family
networks were insufficiently strong, for whatever reasons, to
sustain a good enough parenting role. The traumas associated with
this have understandably created insecurity and anxiety. An annual
event that reinforces the permanence of their present home is
therefore reassuring and comforting.
There
is, too, the value that each young person comes to discover in
themselves as they prepare for the day itself. Much of modern
life is spent as individuals, working, enjoying entertainment
and consuming marketed items. There is comparatively little sense
of shared activity undertaken simply because people value each
other as people (rather than as commodities, consumers or clients).
All
hands are needed on deck for a big event like this. And, as the
day neared, one and another began to undertake traditional tasks
and to draw great satisfaction from the completion of them and
the praise of others. One stood beside two cars she had cleaned
and beamed. Another got up at 6.30 a.m. to ensure he completed
the creosoting of an entire fence. Before long he was joined by
a guest from Nigeria and they had great fun working together.
Still another put in a massive effort to dig over the entire area
of our orchard previously occupied by chickens.
Everywhere
there was tangible evidence that members of the community had
been at work. Plants appeared, grass and lawns were cut, tents
were erected, cakes were cooked, and furniture was rearranged
for the big day. The whole place was being transformed and the
youngsters were part of the process.
As
this was happening they were all the time drawing from their memories
of how it should look, and what should be done, as well as anticipating
the pleasure that they and others would enjoy on the day itself
as they looked ahead. It became difficult to abstract each individual
from the enterprise as a whole, and the past and present from
the future. There was mutual reinforcement and affirmation.
One
of the great benefits, of course, was that the buildings, cars
and grounds had a spring-clean, and that is not to be sniffed
at in a residential community! But more significantly, on the
day what the young people had done was noticed and appreciated.
And their people skills were put to good use in welcoming dozens
of others, notably the offspring of members of the extended Mill
Grove family. Two of them took a large measure of responsibility
in running the crèche that operated during the service,
and others helped with serving refreshments and organising games.
At
the very end of the day, when the unglamorous task of clearing
up was underway, one of the young people lay on his back on the
oak floor of our indoor hall (which is used for badminton, art
classes and a day nursery) and exclaimed, “I wonder why
I am so good at looking after little children.” We all knew
that this was one of his natural gifts, but throughout the day
others were praising and thanking him for what he had been doing
for up to twenty children.
Late
into the evening we were watching slides, DVDs and videos of holidays,
Christmas plays and even the story of Mill Grove from 1899 together,
and without anyone saying anything we were acknowledging that
our lives had become part of a story of a place and family that
had meant so much to so many. Over the weekend, as the final guests
were leaving we were already talking of next year! We were history
makers in this little part of the world.
And
this is part of the reason why yearly rituals are so vital not
only to the flourishing of communities, but to the development
and growth of children and young people. The Jewish people have
survived as a community despite much oppression and outright opposition.
The Chief Rabbi in Britain, Jonathan Sacks, is not slow to point
out in his broadcasts and writings that children play a vital
part in the most important yearly religious rituals.
At
the Passover meal, for example, it is a child who asks, “What
does this celebration mean?” In this way they are incorporated
into the whole history and story of a people. Other religious
faiths have their ways of achieving this sense of belonging and
elementary socialisation.
Children
who have known the threatening chaos and shattering traumatic
experiences of separation and loss from their birth families perhaps
more than others need the security and affirmation that comes
from being an acknowledged and accepted part of a group or community.
Whatever the merit of short term initiatives like therapy and
life-book work, and preparation for independence, they are still
needing and craving (whether consciously or not) for a fundamental
sense that they belong to that which is accepting, but not creating
a dependency culture, and encouraging, but not demanding what
they have to offer, in order that the whole community, including
them can celebrate its worth and existence.
There
are many ways of doing this throughout the world in families,
faith groups, educational establishments and neighbourhoods. But
I cannot think of any that survive and thrive long term that do
not have such occasions. They cannot easily be created, but over
time they will evolve, and when this happens, they should be nurtured
and sustained. For in and through them, healing and acceptance
comes as a by-product of the tasks and responsibilities necessary
for them to flourish. In an era increasingly dominated by the
pressure of the marketing engines and media of the world to shape
young people in the image of individual or group consumers attuned
to the never-ending and short term fashions and trends of a cynical
entertainment industry, such events will surely have increasing
significance and value. But such is the short-termism of modern
culture that there is a risk that few will appreciate their true
worth.