It takes a village to raise a child, but what if the village is traumatized?
"IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO RAISE A CHILD". I'm sure you've heard this African saying at least once in your life. If here, in the diaspora and in the West in general, this sentence seems to mean solidarity, generosity and community care, if you grew up in Benin, in my generation, believe me, this saying will land differently in you.
To be quite honest, I hadn't really thought about or even referred to this saying in the past before I became a first-time mum in 2014. And then, as if by magic, even if I wanted to or not, this sentence suddenly woke up in me, not only in my thoughts but also in my flesh.
I remember on the third day after the birth, as I was about to leave the hospital, the kind nurse helped me to prepare the baby and, as she handed her back to me, she looked me straight in the eye, without any emotion on her face, and said: "Now, here she is, I'm giving her to you both and you're taking her out into the world". That sounded a bit creepy to me, I took my little one and hugged her tightly to my chest. In the taxi on the way back, I looked out of the window at the city and had the impression that everything was in slow motion, the other cars, the cyclists, the pedestrians etc... and one word came to mind - The Village.
Ooh!!! This is my new v-i-l-l-a-g-e and even more so my child's village.
designed by Jon Marro
In my first year of motherhood, which was full of ups and downs, I met my friend Lerato, a visual artist who was born and raised in South Africa. She is also the mother of a small child, a little younger than my daughter, and lived not far from me. We hit it off straight away, even though we'd both grown up in Africa, each had our own way of bringing up our children, without encroaching on each other's territory or judging each other's way of doing things. It was safe to be the mother I wanted next to Lerato. And with this safe foundation between us, it was easier for us to have many discussions, even difficult ones. During our countless walks and play dates between Leopoldplatz and Schillerpark, we often chatted about this notion of « village » and above all, its hidden meaning, what it could mean deep down for each of us, in relation to our experiences in our different countries in Africa.
As I hinted above, as far as I'm concerned, one thing is certain « It takes a village to raise a child » hasn't left any happy memories in me. In Benin, in my generation, « raising a child » took many forms: taking care of, protecting. The village was responsible for you, for what you became, for your education. The village can give you food when your parents aren't at home. The village can give you a roof over your head, for example when your parents' house burns down or when an alcoholic father throws his family out, and so on. BUT unfortunately, the village also has the right to « discipline », to « correct » by beating you up, without even your parents' permission, and this "correction" takes even place in their presence. They will most probably not be able to defend you, they'll just have to watch and suffer like you. The village can get away with anything. You were raised to « behave », not to dishonor, not only your parents, but the entire village.
The truth is that I suffered very little physical abuse from my direct parents and siblings. Any physical, emotional or even sexual abuse I can remember was committed under the label "It takes a village.... ".
And, growing up, I had the feeling that my family had ended up in the wrong village, because I knew that my mother objected to the way the village treated us.
(Fortunately things have changed a lot since then, community care is still present and physical abuse in the name of the « village » has diminished a lot.)
But now I'm far away from the village where I was born and raised, I've given birth to a being that I thought I'd raise alone with my partner, but why do I have the feeling that my old village is still in my ears, raising my child for me? Why am I just repeating the actions and words of my village that have hurt me in the past?
Why do I have the feeling that my new village is constantly watching, controlling and judging the way I'm bringing up my child?
I'm well aware that in this village there's no free help or collective care like in my old village, but why doesn't this seem to bother me as much as it would? As thought I felt the need to overprotect my little one.
Why am I rushing to collect her from the crèche? Why can't I trust the village?
In trying to understand the hidden definition of this saying, Lerato came up with this one that has remained forever engraved in my memory: «It takes a village to raise a child actually means that, whether we want it or not, the village will raise our child.»
This one just hit home in a way I wasn’t ready for. But it helped me finding words for what I was feeling, for that sentence coming from the nurse at the hospital and the whole taxi situation. I knew deep inside of me that I wanted or not, collective care or not this village will raise my child with me, and I didn’t want to let that happen.
The over-protection of my child wasn't care, it was just a fight mode of my nervous system, I was fighting many villages, systems, which didn’t bring me much closer to my child because we can't build and nurture a healthy connection when our nervous system is constantly in fight mode.
We may look after our children on our own, with no help from anyone around us, but we certainly don't bring them up alone. The world raises them with us, from day one.
I love my villages, but I also have to take an honest look at what happened to me and what was passed on to me. 9 years ago, I realised that I had suffered serious trauma as a child. Although the word may sound heavy, I've never felt so light when I put a name to what was going on in my nervous system and its sources. It was liberating to me, to accept, and be honest about my story.
Knowing well that trauma is present in every village, in every little street, I have learned, in my own work, that connection supports a traumatised nervous system. It may seem paradoxical, but trauma occurs in a village and is healed in a village (in relationship, in community), never in isolation. There is also the ripple effect I believe in, when one person does it own work how it can overflow around them, in the village. So instead of fighting against the village what if I bring back safety in my body and built deep connection with my child to make her resilient in the village she is now and in the one she will choose to be after? What if I bring safety back to my body to live better in relation with my villages and create that ripple effect around me?
Many questions and solutions around connection, safety and resilience for my children in the village, which I am happy to share with you through an 8-week online journey about a somatic and nervous system approach to parenting, how to cultivate connection and bring safety to our children and make them resilient in the village.
