#05: Tears of Deep, Deep Hurt

FROM PIP — BETA #5: from Lauren Culbertson

#1       I might keep reminding that we are aiming to create a space of a mere 260 people that might run very deep amongst us and that depth might be experienced through the writing which might provide a backbeat of this community.       

#2       So here is… Lauren… she is clearly capable of taking on that sizable task of cultivating community as she writes…          Lauren has quickly become yet another one of my favorite writers!  I found that this piece highlights the core of what is so so special of one of my favorite organizations in the world – Restore - and one Brynne connected Coburn Ventures with years ago.   In highlighting below the capacity Restore has created, Lauren implicitly points that certain deep human experiences and conditions don’t so easily have a place to live in our places of work to the degree that is possible.  What Restore has capacity for is largely absent in the world… for now…    I thought of words from a Pretenders song titled “Human”:   “See I bleed and I bruise, oh, but what’s it to you. I’m only human on the inside.”   The great cover-up of pain.   Thank you Lauren.

(FROM LAUREN CULBERTSON)

TEARS OF DEEP, DEEP HURT

When I took my first job after college at Restore NYC, I was surprised to see that something happened on a semi-regular basis in our office; tears.

I’m not talking about the kinds of tears that come from meltdowns of frustration, stress, or conflict. I’m talking about tears that well up from places of deep, deep hurt. I was surprised at how there is this culture at Restore of mourning together. A culture of collective mourning, as I like to call it.

As an organization that serves women who have been sex trafficked in New York, one can only imagine the unbearable stories of deceit, loss, and abuse that my coworkers who work directly with survivors listen to on a day to day basis. Just last week, something unthinkable happened to a client, something that has never happened to a client at Restore before. My coworker who was managing her case wept when our small team learned what had happened, and while others consoled her and others sat in silence, there was a sense that everyone shouldered her suffering. It’s the same sense I have felt in other moments of tears witnessed in our meeting room, when stories of lost friends, children, fathers, time, and expectations are generously shared.

Krista Tippett, who I admire deeply, writes in her book about wisdom:

“The core of life is about loses and deaths both subtle and catastrophic, over and over again, and also about loving and rising again.” 

As a small but driven organization made up of people who care deeply about the work that we do, it often feels like the liberation - the ability to rise again - of one another and the women we serve are inextricably bound. The ease there is around being vulnerable with our team when sharing these dark stories only binds us tighter, yet simultaneously sets us free to press on, despite the inevitable dark up ahead.

Lauren Culbertson:  lauren@restorenyc.org

Someone once told me that I "move" when I see the “earth out of alignment,” which is just a fancy way of saying that I’ve always had a natural inclination to pay attention to what happens in the margins; that’s where the most exciting things happen, after all. That brought me to Restore NYC, an anti- sex trafficking nonprofit, where I work to inspire generosity and help our fundraising team make data-driven decisions. I experience the most joy in my work when I witness two things clicking inside someone: sex trafficking is a major issue that is closer than we think, but it has a solution that we can all be a part of.