Give me strength: a personal invitation to action

It was autumn 1971. I remember being on duty, as a 21-year-old trainee social worker in the newly formed social services department in Hounslow, close to Heathrow airport. One of my responsibilities was to arrange accommodation for a homeless Asian family expelled from Uganda by Idi Amin. I witnessed the man's distress and horror at being allocated a single shabby room in a Victorian hostel alongside some of the poorest, white British families. He described to me the spacious house and gardens he had left to save his family's lives and questioned whether this was the only accommodation available. I checked with colleagues and was met, not with sympathy, but with anger and hostility because, they said, ‘He should be grateful!’

Throughout my career I have been shocked by people's capacity to place themselves above the possibility of such disasters happening in their own lives. I wonder whether this triumph of entitlement over compassion arises paradoxically from a sense of inadequacy and powerlessness. The examples given throughout this book of the strengths approach in action show its power to rekindle compassion, and to create opportunities for humanity to flourish.

In Europe, the response to refugees has become increasingly hostile. Refugees who were living in the ‘Jungle’ camp in Calais are now the targets of police aggression; police are destroying their tents and moving people on wherever they find a place to shelter. All over Europe there are people who have fled for their lives, risking dangerous sea crossings with their children and family members, avoiding the authorities and being treated like criminals. In Rome, the right-wing government arbitrarily closed the largest Italian refugee centre after an anti-terrorist raid. On 6 December 2018, the municipality of Rome closed down the Baobab transit centre for refugees, which had been run completely by volunteers who had decided to step forward in place of negligent authorities.