The summer before my 8th grade year I attended OASC’s Leadership Camp. I don’t remember much from that week, but I do remember playing the “game” High Card Low Card. Each student was given one card from a deck and was told to hold on to it. I got a 3. 

Then they split us into two groups. Kings, Queens, Jacks, Aces, and Tens formed one group. 2’s-9’s formed the other. As the groups got situated I watched the other group lounge around, soak up the sun, the staff members talked to them, they ate candy and popsicles, and were basically just hanging out. 

My group however was in a straight line, demanded to look only at the back of the person’s head in front of us, we weren’t aloud to talk, laugh, smile, or even breathe too loud. We went on a hike, getting yelled at by staff members for ridiculous things. We had consequences should we break any of these rules.

I remember thinking “What is going on? Why on earth are we having to do this? Why don’t they have to do this? What are they thinking? Are we in trouble for something?” 

The game concluded when we entered the dining hall, thirty minutes after the other group did. We were told to take their plates and clear them. We did. But as I looked at my friends who were in the “high group” as I took their plates there was this look and motion of, I want to help but there is nothing I can do.

Some friends from the other group said things like “Well I am glad I got a high card.” “I wish I could’ve traded you.” “I am sorry that you got a low card.” 

The game was meant to create awareness of how people are treated in other places in the world AND locally. 

I am constantly reminded of that game while in India. 

No matter how much I want to be on the same level as these girls,
no matter how much I want them to know that I love them for who they are not where they are, 
no matter how much I want them to know that I don’t think I am better than them, no matter how much I want them to let me serve them, 
no matter how much I want to express to them that we are equal.

They will NOT understand it. 

I am white and I am from the United States. I hold the high card.
They are in India. They live in a hostel. They hold the low card.

I want to eat the same food as them. But: “I am the guest.” 
I want to eat on the metal plates they do. But: “I am the guest.” 
I want to wash their cups or plates. But: “It’s their duty.” 
I want to do my own laundry. But: “I am the guest.” 

I don’t WANT to be a guest

I simply can not explain HOW MUCH I want to throw the cards out the window, to be Christ-like in humility. The cards mean ABSOLUTELY nothing to me. But they mean something to the girls.

“We dare not relate directly to one another. We must allow Christ to be our intermediary. The bridge between us as we relate to one another through Him” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Life Together)

I don’t want it to be me and them. 
I want it to be we and us. 

Differences between one another are inevitable but I want to be able to say yeah we are different but neither one is better than the other. 

I want to be able to serve these girls as they have served me, and as Christ first served us. 

I want these girls to know their self-worth, I want these girls to see that they are beautiful precious children of God and can and will do amazing things if they let God live through them.

 

-Vicky