|
By Jack Krayenhoff
IN the mid-1900s, the name Esperanza (Spanish for
‘hope’) meant a hospital on an island off the west coast of
Vancouver Island, a little south-west of Tahsis.
Percy Wills, a Shantymen missionary, had explored the
area in the early 1930s, and had seen the great need of a hospital for all
the fishing, logging and First Nations communities in the region.
At that time, anyone who was seriously ill or injured
would have to wait for a freighter which came once a month, which could
take them to a hospital in Vancouver.
Wills recruited Dr. Herman McLean, and together they
built a hospital. An organization to own and run it was established: the
Nootka Mission. After some 40 years of serving the west coast people,
however, the region became more accessible and the need for the hospital
came to an end. In 1975, it was closed.
Meanwhile, Earl Johnson – another Shantymen
missionary, who together with Harold Petersen ran the mission boat
Messenger III – and his wife Louise, had made Esperanza their home,
and their three children were born there.
One of these was Deane, who now leads the new
Esperanza. BCCN went
to ask him what the current ministry is all about.
Deane Johnson points out that Esperanza (formerly
called Uematsu, meaning ‘a place of cleansing’) had a
reputation among the First Nations as a place for recovery long before the
hospital was established.
People would stay there to rest up from strenuous canoe
trips, or from stressful periods in their lives.
“It seems that it was ordained by God as a place
of healing and rest,” he says.
After the hospital closed, Esperanza went though a
difficult time while it was struggling to find a new identity. Johnson,
together with his wife Sharon – who, like himself, had been born in
Esperanza – was working as a high school principal in Ahousat, a
First Nations village of some 1,000 people, 15 minutes by boat north of
Tofino. After seven years there, they felt the need to take a break –
and decided to spend a year in Esperanza.
They had just settled in when they got a request from
friends in Ahousat to come to Esperanza for awhile. They had gone through a
time of stress, and needed some rest. Of course, the Johnsons said
‘yes.’ Soon, more families wanted to come, for various reasons:
marital problems; a child suicide; drug problems. They too were welcomed,
and it became clear some structure was required.
At the moment there are 20 to 30 families on the
waitlist. They stay for six weeks, and four such six-week sessions are
offered per year. The families provide their own meals. The program varies
with the needs of the group; the focus ranges from grief and loss, to
substance abuse or domestic violence. Child care and a school is available
for the children.
A day starts with a 90-minute Bible study in story form
– which is a popular format. Later in the day, well-trained and
capable staff members tackle a topic in a group setting – for
example, anger management or communication.
Continue article >>
|
There is also a program for men. Often, this is geared
to substance abuse, and these people need a longer time – six
months or more – to regain their self-esteem and acquire good habits.
This unique ministry has been going for 14 years
– and remarkably, the Johnsons had no model for it; they had to learn
as they went along. They now have competent professional staff to help
them, but clearly an essential ingredient of their success is their
understanding and respect for First Nations culture.
The following story, told by Johnson, illustrates this:
Last year, the hereditary Chief of Ahousat told the
drug dealers and bootleggers of the village that they would have to leave.
However, as an option, he offered a stay at Esperanza. Though they were in
need of rest themselves, our staff had agreed to this.
Almost all of the people who were given this ultimatum
chose Esperanza – and one day, some 60 of them arrived there. Though
they were embarrassed and angry at first, and some of them were hung over,
the staff greeted them warmly and thanked them for coming.
The first meeting was tense; there was anger toward the
chiefs, and denial of their own guilt. But towards the end, one of them
shared a dream he had had repeatedly – a dream of a different
Ahousat, without drunkenness and fighting, where children could play safely
outside. He wondered if they, as a group, could play a part in making that
dream come true. That was the beginning of a new slant on the situation.
After two unstructured days, one man asked: “What
are we here for? What’s the program?” A wise Ahousat counsellor
replied: “For years, the white people have taken away our way of
life, our language and even our names; they have taken away the control
over our lives. But now, we give you control over what is going to happen
here.”
So they got together and designed a wonderful program:
every morning, a chance to get anything off their chest they wanted, then a
Bible story/study. Then lots of cultural activity: making drums and
paddles, and restoring two canoes that had sat around neglected and rotting
away. It was tremendous.
Contact: esperanza.ca
September 2008
|
