Sunday, November 03, 2024

Tribute to Sarah Justine Packwood: The Intuitive Humanitarian


 Sarah Justine Packwood (1970 - 2024)

Sarah Justine Packwood was a British humanitarian aid worker and our friend. She died at sea in June 2024. We, her friends and former coworkers in the humanitarian world, grieve for her loss. This is our reflection on her and her work and how important it was to her identity and an invitation to join us at her memorial on 1 December 2024.


There have been stories written about Sarah that focused on her sense of adventure, her passion for the environment, and her love story with her husband, Brett. Many now know about her around the world because the story of lovers who disappeared at sea only to have their bodies found weeks later, captured many people’s imagination. Sarah’s career as an aid worker is briefly mentioned in these stories but a better understanding of it helps shed more light about this warm, wonderful woman.  Sarah was truly a humanitarian at heart and a pragmatic optimist. Sarah had great passion for life and connecting deeply with people. As one of her friends said on LinkedIn, Sarah cared about “the experience of life rather than the superficial needs for position or asset acquisition.” 


Like many of us multitaskers, as Sarah set off to cross the Atlantic, she was also working as a freelance consultant, typing up reports for the United Nations and doing her part for humanitarian work and then tragedy struck. We don’t know what happened to her boat, but Sarah did not survive.





As an aid worker, Sarah specialized in protection - ensuring that persons with disabilities, older people, children and women who were vulnerable to violence received proper support and care and were shielded from further harm. Her warm and caring heart informed all the work she did. How did Sarah decide to become an aid worker? In her own words, “I took a gap year to learn how to apply myself. I did voluntary conservation work, a spell in retail, a stint at a youth hostel and volunteered. Throughout I learned the importance of serving others and working hard whatever the task.” She went on to get her masters degree in Rural Resource Management and conducted her thesis research in Kenya where she was confronted by the poverty of rural farming families there. “I was confronted by the challenges they faced every day just to survive, I experienced an epiphany. Africa captured my heart and I knew I had to return one day.”

And so she did, returning to Tanzania to work with Rwandan refugees living there in 1994 and then again and again in South Sudan, Namibia, the Democratic Republic of Congo, as well as to emergencies around the world in Kosovo, Haiti, Myanmar, and other places. In the early millennium, Sarah returned to the UK and did a stint of humanitarian work where she infused her international experiences with the spirituality that was such an important part of her identity, and grounding herself in UK for a season. During this time, she worked for both the Shaftesbury Society and HelpAge. While at the Shaftesbury Society, she was an important part of a steering group with other faith-based NGOs and individuals that shaped a UK-wide Christian faith focused Refugee and Asylum Seeker welcome network. Her involvement saw activists from communities across the UK effectively welcoming asylum seekers and refugees into their communities. In many ways, this early work created the foundations for small refugee charities being established that we now see across the UK. 

Sarah also worked with HelpAge International where she was a pivotal member of the disaster management unit, leading responses to support older people to live dignified lives after a disaster. Her work there responding to natural disasters like floods, cyclones, droughts and earthquakes lead to her lifelong desire to address climate change and live sustainably. Sarah spent time with the United Nations in Namibia and Papua New Guinea as a ProCap protection specialist incorporating persons with disabilities, older people, children, and women and girls in disaster preparedness initiatives. She returned to the UK to care for her mother in her final days, working with the British government at the Department for International Development again focusing on typhoon responses and supporting UN agencies alongside researching clean cookstoves for emergency relief distributions.  It was that stint in London that found her walking home from work in the rain and encountering her future husband on the way to the bus! Her last consultancies conducted remotely as she and her husband Brett developed a sustainable home in Canada and sailed on their beloved ship, Theros, were in preparing communities for disasters and emergencies through work with UN agencies like OHCHR and UNHCR, The World Bank, ChildFund Australia and others. 

Like many of us post-covid and in this time of localization, she was playing a role in humanitarian and development assistance by sharing her knowledge and skills and providing technical assistance from afar while stepping back from a frontline role. Ultimately, Sarah always worked best within a team, always in solidarity with seeking ways to limit the suffering amongst our fellow humans that have endured so much. Colleagues at HelpAge said Sarah was a joyful colleague to have, providing mentoring to younger colleagues from the UK and across the world. Her wise and measured advice has gone on to shape how many people work – and thus furthering her impact across the globe.

Sarah was prolifically creative and always writing, making art and music and applying her heart to problems that she saw in the world. She interviewed many of us for a book she had hoped to produce called the Intuitive Humanitarian. It was based on her thoughts, reflections, observations and experiences in the humanitarian sector over the last 20 years. It was about using a particular lens to look at the broken humanitarian system and re-imagine it, signposting other aid workers and social activists towards modelling something different to cause a shift to happen. We often had conversations about the importance of treating each other in an empathetic, peaceful, and loving way, particularly in our humanitarian community which can sometimes be a traumatized and angry place. Her kindness and compassion were always present in her work, in her art, in her life. She had a ready laugh and smile and a keen intelligence. She was always on the side of the vulnerable and thinking of others.  

Our humanitarian world lost a kind and decent woman in that shipwreck and the world became a little less bright. But in her memory, we continue to try to provide comfort to the suffering in disasters and wars. We bear witness to their suffering and we aim to do our small part to help those less fortunate than ourselves. 

If you knew her or would like to join us in her memorial which is taking place 1 December 2024 in Long Itchington UK, you can find out more information on the service and other events at https://sarah-j-packwood.muchloved.com/ 

All are welcome, just as Sarah would have liked it. 


Saturday, November 02, 2024

Inspiration to go on


 

Listen to Jeff Goldblum inspire you with George Bernard Shaw’s words

“This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of Nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.


I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. Life is no ‘brief candle’ to me. It ia a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for a moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to the future generations.”

Friday, March 12, 2021

COVID -19 and 2020 recollections

 

Sylvester and Pinky and I enjoy the sunset

I'm writing to you from lovely green Kefalonia, Greece. I came here in October for a writing retreat with a bunch of Berlin writers that had been postponed from May (due to the pandemic). Back in January 2020 when I first signed up for this retreat, I envisioned taking a month off and writing for a week then going on holiday and "island hopping" for a month before returning to Berlin and my work as a consultant.

Little did I know how much things would change for me.

This is probably the year I've done the least amount of travel since I got my passport in 1997 to go on a study tour/vacation to Jamaica! The year started off with a bang - new year's eve in the village in NYC with my friend Alec from my days in DC, visiting old friends in NYC and shopping and eating. I then went to DC on the 3rd of January for my first vacation trip there for a few years and caught a terrible flu around the 6th. I recovered but I remember the weeks of fatigue afterwards and the wheezing and difficulty breathing. I look back now and wonder if it was COVID although the virus had not yet arrived in the USA at the time. Magical thinking to hope that I'm immune is more probable.

I flew back to Berlin after recuperating with my friend Cat in Pennsylvania and my sister in South Carolina and almost immediately went to Bulgaria for a training of one of my favorite projects last year, developing a curricula for interpreters and cultural mediators on how to respond to GBV survivors and provide psychological support for them, as well as addressing vicarious traumatization and burnout for themselves. Interpreters and cultural mediators are the front line workers - particularly in Europe - and it was a very meaningful and lovely project. I met amazing people that really gave me a lot of energy to do this work.

And then I went on a quick holiday jaunt to Dubai to see a friend (thinking, well, I don't love Dubai but its just for a few days!) I had the idea that I would then go from there to a conference in Bangkok and visit friends there, visit my friends in Maldives, and then go to Fiji to see friends there - possibly spending some time getting to know the Pacific before returning to Europe for spring. Boy how those plans changed! As I traveled back on February 11 on the terrible Pegasus Airlines from the budget terminal in Dubai and had a 3 hour layover in the "third" airport of Istanbul from 2am to 5am, the stories of the virus in Asia had spread and one by one, all the events in Asia were being canceled. "Good," I thought, "I could use a rest. These last few flights have been horrible! I am tired of traveling." Little did I know what that meant!

So I stayed at home. February in Berlin is not a pretty month  - dark, grey, cold, and rainy. But i was happy to be in my apartment for a while. We had an amazing spring and I had a small balcony where I could sit in the sun and plant flowers. But it was not restful and the fear of contracting COVID, spreading COVID, or learning that my loved ones had COVID was ever present. At the same time, the humanitarian world was coming to terms that GBV was the shadow pandemic coming alongside the lockdowns and quarantines. Never have I wished more that I had a cat. Simon Le Bon, the Siamese would have reminded me to sit, nap, breathe, eat, and purr to stay calm.

Dancing with Lukas in Templehof

 Berlin was a strange place to be in - we seemed to have the most beautiful spring in a long time and the summer saw the sidewalks and outdoor cafes packed with people outside, not a mask to be seen. And the noise from my neighborhood became unbearable. I hated being in my apartment (although its lovely). I couldn't get away from the stomping neighbors upstairs, the chattering coked up people at the restaurant downstairs under my bedroom, or the drunken mobs coming home from dancing and partying in the park near my house at 4am. I felt miserable and angry all the time. We did have some bright spots, all social activities moved to the parks so we had a few birthday parties in the outdoors. So in October, I came to Kefalonia for the writing retreat... and just stayed.


And - its March and I'm still here! I wake up and look at the Ionian sea and a grove of olive trees. 5 cats (Pinky Tuscadero, Cutie Pie, Sylvester, Filos, and Jenny) come onto my balcony and stare at me until I feed them. We discuss the seasons. I check them for ticks. They fight with each other and sometimes they curl up in the sun with each other and clean each other. We've been on lockdown since November which means there's a 6pm curfew and you have to get permission from the police to go out. So I go out once a week to buy groceries. I go downstairs to talk to my Greek neighbors and cook with them. And I walk around in the olive groves to the sea and listen to Stephen Fry reading Greek mythology to me on an audio book. Thanks to zoom and the internet and a kindle, I can still talk to friends, work full-time, and read books and watch movies. Its a very different existence than February 2020! But a good one.

So forgive my tardiness in sending you holiday greets and instead accept this as Saint Patrick Day or Ides of March greetings! A few photos of Kefalonia, cats, and COVID outdoor party in Berlin

Much love,
Sarah