Words, Voyeurism and Presence: On Our Tornado Recovery

OpEd originally published on April 24, 2023 in the The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette:

Our home is gone. That which the wind didn’t take the rain did. Nobody prepares for it…realizing that your life as you knew it is forever changed. What do you say to your kids? The only thing that I knew to say was to repeatedly say, “I love you.” Other than that, I’m just present. I’m just trying to be the best dad I can be.

Have you ever really thought about what most people say amidst tragedy? Most words fall woefully short. I can’t tell you how many funerals I have been to and repeatedly heard, “They’re in a better place.” Such words seem so trivial when people are mourning. It’s as if people are minimizing the pain of the here and now. Or what about, “I know how you feel.” Pain is dependent on the person. How could anyone know the uniqueness of the pain of another? While I realize that people speak because they don’t know what to say, perhaps its most appropriate for people to simply be present in situations when words will always fall short.

In the wake of our experiences, one of the phrases I’ve consistently heard is, “…at least you all have each other…think about if you had lost one of the kids.” While such words are unquestionably true, they fail to appreciate the magnitude of what we’ve lost. Not the least of which is the innocence of our children. So what’s an appropriate thing to say? Often, nothing at all. Presence is enough.

After a tragedy of this magnitude, you don’t have long to mourn. You must get to work. We didn’t have any clothes. We didn’t have anywhere to sleep. We didn’t have any food. Thankfully, armies of help presented themselves. I will never forget how people from everywhere stepped up to help. Even today, the support continues. Presence not words is what is getting us through.

Presence however can also have its’ own drawbacks. For over two weeks, we have done our best to pull things out of the rubble of our house. To say that such recovery is painful is an understatement. For everything you are thrilled to find there is something that you’re devastated to lose. While the help of our community certainly stands out currently, the cruelty of the outsider does too.

Can you imagine what it’s like to be consoling your crying children and you look up to see someone driving by to take pictures with their cellphone? It has happened repeatedly. Often, we have felt like animals at the zoo. We are trying the best we can to survive amidst incredibly painful circumstances and all that many seem to be interested in is taking pictures of our pain. Of course, it’s important to document these events. I am beyond thankful for the work of journalists near and far to share what we’re going through. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the outsider who seems to get tremendous satisfaction at staring at the pain of our neighborhood. My children should not be natural disaster muses. We are not here for your entertainment.

Such thoughts draw me back. Words and voyeurism will always fall short. Presence will not.

If you are interested in being human or humane in the midst of the ongoing tornado recovery that the Walnut Valley Neighborhood and so many others are going through, give those of us who are suffering your presence or please don’t be present at all.

The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood

10923 Breckenridge Drive

Little Rock, AR 72211