From the Archive

Reflections of a First-Time Faster

I came to fast and walk and build community with Witness Against Torture because I wanted to be in a place where we could remind each other of our humanity. My hope was answered on many levels. This was my first time doing an extended fast, and I got to experience in a new way what my body is capable of. I felt how vulnerable and dependent I am, and yet how much more resilient I am than I could have imagined. Torture and indefinite detention are meant to break people, to strip them of their dignity as human beings. Torture is a process of mutilating another person’s soul, something that neither the victim nor the perpetrator fully recovers from.

What is my solidarity with those tortured at Guantánamo Bay and other U.S. black sites around the world? As I fasted and felt the limitations of my body, it came into focus for me that I have a soul too, which can also be broken. And my soul can also be resilient, can house hope. Like the men held at Guantánamo over the years and those still there, I am vulnerable to mutilation and yet open to rebirth.

Trust was built this week. Trust is broken by torture and arbitrary punishment, and it is the very thing we nurture when we build community. As I made my way to the White House to risk arrest today, there were friends, old and new, processing silently to either side of me. Thirty-six of us would risk arrest together, presenting a tableau of Guantánamo detainees directly in front of the White House. The rest of our friends would take care of everything from moral support to getting us home safely. I had felt jittery as we were getting ready, but as I sat in the mock cage and my friends wheeled me up onto the White House sidewalk to participate in the tableau, I felt completely at ease. I knew and trusted the community around me.

I hope that all our efforts to widen this circle of ours — our vulnerable, resilient community of trust — are successful at reaching the men held at Guantánamo. I hope they feel as deeply as we do that they are not alone.

Photograph by Justin Norman.