The following is Part 2 of the 57th and final chapter in, “AWARENESS: A de Mellow Spirituality Conference in His Own Words” by Fr. Anthony de Mello, S.J. edited by J. Francis Stroud, S.J., Copyright © 1990 by the DeMello Stroud Spirituality Center.
“I’ve got a lovely quote here, a few sentences that I would
write in gold. I picked them up from A. S. Neill’s book Summerhill. I must give you the background. You probably know that
Neill was in education for forty years. He developed a kind of maverick school.
He took in boys and girls and just let them be free. You want to learn to read
and write, fine; you don’t want to learn to read and write, fine. You can do
anything you want with your life, provided you don’t interfere with the freedom
of someone else. Don’t interfere with someone else’s freedom; otherwise you’re
free. He says that the worst ones came to him from convent school. This was in
the old days, of course. He said it took them about six months to get over all
the anger and the resentment that they had repressed. They’d be rebelling for
six months, fighting the system. The worst was a girl who would take a bicycle
and ride into town, avoiding class, avoiding school, avoiding everything. But
once they got over their rebellion, everybody wanted to learn; they even began
protesting, ‘Why don’t we have class today?’ But they would only take what they
were interested in. They’d be transformed. In the beginning parents were
frightened to send their children to this school; they said, ‘How can you
educate them if you don’t discipline them? You’ve got to each them, guide them.’
What was the secret of Neill’s success? He’d get the worst children, the ones
everybody else had despaired of, and within six months they’d all be
transformed. Listen to what he said—extraordinary words, holy words. ‘Every
child has a god in him. Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a
devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world,
destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad-tempered. In six months they are
happy, healthy children who do no evil.’ These are amazing words coming from a
man whose school in Britain is regularly inspected by people from the Ministry
of Education, by any headmaster or headmistress or anyone who would care to go
there. Amazing. It was his charism. You don’t do this kind of thing from a
blueprint; you’ve got to be a special kind of person. In some of his lectures
to headmasters and headmistresses he says, ‘Come to Summerhill and you’ll find
that all the fruit trees are laden with fruit; nobody’s taking the fruits off
the trees; there’s no desire to attack authority; they’re well fed and there’s
no resentment and anger. Come to Summerhill and you’ll never find a handicapped
child with a nickname (you know how cruel kids can be when someone stammers).
You’ll never find anyone needling a stammerer, never. There’s no violence in
those children, because no one is practicing violence on them, that’s why.’
Listen to these words of revelation, sacred words. We have people in the world
like this. No matter what scholars and priests and theologians tell you, there
are and have been people who have no quarrels, no jealousies, no conflicts, no
wars, no enmities, none! They exist in my country, or, sad to say, they existed
until relatively recently. I’ve had Jesuit friends go out to live and work
among people who, they assured me, were incapable of stealing or lying. One
Sister said to me that when she went to the northeast of India to work among
some tribes there, the people would lock up nothing. Nothing was ever stolen
and they never told lies—until the Indian government and missionaries showed
up.
“Every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold the
child will turn the god into a devil.
“There’s a lovely Italian film directed by Federico
Fellini, 8 1/2. In one scene there’s
a Christian Brother going out on a picnic or excursion with a group of eight-
to ten-year old boys. They’re on a beach, moving right on ahead while the
Brother brings up the rear with three or four of them around him. They come
across an older woman who’s a whore, and they say to her, ‘Hi,’ and she says, ‘Hi.’
And they say, ‘Who are you?’ And she says, ‘I’m a prostitute.’ They don’t know
what that is but they pretend to. One of the boys, who seems a bit more knowing
than the others, says, ‘A prostitute is a woman who does certain things if you
pay her.’ They ask, ‘Would she do those things if we paid her?’ ‘Why not?’ the
answer came. So they take up a collection and give her the money, saying, ‘Would
you do certain things now that we’ve given you the money?’ She answers, ‘Sure,
kids, what do you want me to do?’ The only thing that occurs to the kids is for
her to take her clothes off. So she does. Well, they look at her; they’ve never
seen a woman naked before. They don’t know what else to do, so they say, ‘Would
you dance?’ She says, ‘Sure.’ So they all gather round singing and clapping;
the whore is moving her behind and they’re enjoying themselves immensely. The
Brother sees all this. He runs down the beach and yells at the woman. He gets
her to put her clothes on, and the narrator says, ‘At that moment, the children
were spoiled; until then they were innocent, beautiful.’
“This is not an unusual problem. I know a rather conservative missionary in India, a Jesuit. He came to a workshop of mine. As I developed this theme over two days, he suffered. He came to me the second night and said, ‘Tony, I can’t explain to you how much I’m suffering listening to you.’ I said, ‘Why, Stan?’ He said, ‘You’re reviving within me a question that I suppressed for twenty-five years, a horrible question. Again and again I asked myself: Have I not spoiled my people by making them Christian?’ This Jesuit was not one of your liberals, he was an orthodox, devout, pious, conservative man. But he felt he spoiled a happy, loving, simple, guileless people by making them Christian.
“American missionaries who went to the South Sea Islands
with their wives were horrified to see women coming bare-breasted to church.
The wives insisted that the women should be more decently dressed. So the
missionaries gave them shirts to wear. The following Sunday the women came
wearing their shirts but with two big holes cut out for comfort, for
ventilation. They were right; the missionaries were wrong.
“Now . . . back to Neill. He says, ‘And I am no genius, I am merely a man who refuses to guide the steps of children.’ But what, then, of original sin? Neill says that every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold him will turn the god into a devil. He lets children form their own values, and the values are invariably good and social. Can you believe that? When a child feels loved (which means: when a child feels you’re on his side), he’s O.K. The child doesn’t experience violence anymore. No fear, so no violence. The child begins to treat others the way he has been treated. You’ve got to read that book. It’s a holy book, it really is. Read it; it revolutionized my life and my dealings with people. I began to see miracles. I began to see the self-dissatisfaction that had been ingrained in me, the competition, the comparisons, the that’s-not-good-enough, etc. You might object that if they hadn’t pushed me, I wouldn’t have become what I am. Did I need all that pushing? And anyway, who wants to be what I am? I want to be happy, I want to be holy, I want to be loving, I want to be at peace, I want to be free, I want to be human.
“Do you know where wars come from? They come from
projecting outside of us the conflict that is inside. Show me an individual in
whom there is no inner self-conflict and I’ll show you an individual in whom
there is no violence. There will be effective, even hard, action in him, but no
hatred. When he acts, he acts as a surgeon acts; when he acts, he acts as a
loving teacher acts with mentally retarded children. You don’t blame them, you
understand; but you swing into action. On the other hand, when you swing into
action with your own hatred and your own violence unaddressed, you’ve
compounded the error. You’ve tried to put fire out with more fire. You’ve tried
to deal with a flood by adding water to it. I repeat what Neill said: ‘Every
child has a god in him. Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a
devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world,
destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad-tempered. In six months they are
happy, healthy children who do no evil. And I am no genius, I am merely a man
who refuses to guide the steps of children. I let them form their own values
and the values are invariably good and social. The religion that makes people
good makes people bad, but the religion known as freedom makes all people good,
for it destroys the inner conflict [I’ve added the word ‘inner’] that makes
people devils.’
“Neill also says, ‘The first thing I do when a child comes
to Summerhill is destroy its conscience.’ I assume you know what he’s talking
about, because I know what he’s talking about. You don’t need conscience when
you have consciousness; you don’t need conscience when you have sensitivity.
You’re not violent, you’re not fearful. You probably think this is an
unattainable ideal. Well, read that book. I have run into individuals, here and
there, who suddenly stumble upon this truth: The root of evil is within you. As
you begin to understand this, you stop making demands on yourself, you stop
having expectations of yourself, you stop pushing yourself and you understand.
Nourish yourself on wholesome food, good wholesome food. I’m not talking about
actual food, I’m talking about sunsets, about nature, about a good movie, about
a good book, about enjoyable work, about good company, and hopefully you will
break your addictions to those other feelings.
“What kind of feeling comes upon you when you’re in touch with nature, or when you’re absorbed in work that you love? Or when you’re really conversing with someone whose company you enjoy in openness and intimacy without clinging? What kind of feelings do you have? Compare those feelings with the feelings you have when you win an argument, or when you win a race, or when you become popular, or when everybody’s applauding you. The latter feelings I call worldly feelings; the former feelings I call soul feelings. Lots of people gain the world and lose their soul. Lots of people live empty, soulless lives because they’re feeding themselves on popularity, appreciation, and praise, on ‘I’m O.K., you’re O.K.,’ look at me, attend to me, support me, value me, on being the boss, on having power, on winning the race. Do you feed yourself on that? If you do, you’re dead. You’ve lost your soul. Feed yourself on other, more nourishing material. Then you’ll see the transformation. I’ve given you a whole program for life, haven’t I?”
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