Part 9: Session Eight – Roots and Routes

What stays with us when we move forward

The group gathered in Room 214 on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Outside, the world felt unsettled, the kind of gray sky that reminded Kai of days in Nairobi when the storms would come without much warning.

Jonas’s empty chair sat quietly in the circle, a gentle reminder of what was changing.

Mr. Elias started the session softly, pouring warm mint tea into the mismatched mugs. “Today, we’ll talk about roots and routes, about where we come from, and the paths we’re still walking.”

He paused, looking around the circle. “Sometimes we think roots are things that keep us stuck. But roots also give us strength—anchors that hold us steady while we move.”

Rina nodded, tracing the rim of her mug. “I never thought about roots like that before. I used to think my roots were just... everywhere, tangled and confusing.”

Lina smiled gently. “And routes—those are the journeys that shape us. I’ve walked a lot of routes, but sometimes I forget to stop and think about what I’m carrying with me.”

Kai’s hand went up hesitantly. “Back in Nairobi, my mom had a saying: ‘The tree that bends survives the storm.’ I think that’s what I’m learning—that I don’t have to be fixed or perfect to belong.”

Mr. Elias smiled, his eyes soft. “That’s a beautiful lesson, Kai. I learned something similar when my family moved from Johannesburg to London. I missed the sun, the sounds, the street where I played. But I also learned that I could carry pieces of home inside me, no matter where I went.”

He pulled out a small box filled with dried jasmine and cardamom pods. “These scents remind me of Dubai, where I spent summers with cousins I barely knew but felt connected to through stories and smells.”

The group passed around a stack of papers and art supplies. “Today, you’ll create a ‘Roots and Routes’ map,” Mr. Elias explained. “Draw the places, people, memories, and feelings that have shaped you—and the paths you’re still choosing.”

As the students worked, quiet murmurs filled the room—snippets of memories and soft laughter.

Lina sketched a winding river lined with acacia trees. “This is the river near my childhood home in Kenya. It’s wild and unpredictable, but it’s part of me.”

Samir drew the bustling streets of Amman, the spice market glowing in his mind’s eye. “I added the calls to prayer. They’re a rhythm I still carry inside.”

Rina filled her page with airport runways and passport stamps, each line a story of movement.

Kai’s map was simpler—lines and dots connecting Kyiv, Vienna, Istanbul, Nairobi, and Georgia. Yet each point was labeled with something precious: “Grandma’s stories,” “dumplings,” “friends lost,” “new beginnings.”

When they finished, Mr. Elias asked, “What surprised you about your map?”

Rina spoke first. “I realized my roots aren’t just places. They’re feelings. Like how I feel when I’m with my family, no matter where we are.”

Samir added, “And my routes aren’t just physical moves. They’re the memories I keep and the people I’m still connected to.”

Mr. Elias nodded, “That’s the power of roots and routes—they’re both a holding place and a direction forward. They remind us who we are, even when everything changes.”

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🧠 Coping Tool: Roots and Routes Map

Mapping your roots and routes helps you visualize your cultural identity as both a foundation and a journey. This creative exercise lets you hold your past and your future in one place, reminding you that belonging isn’t just about where you are, but who you carry with you.

Homework: Create a roots and routes map with photos, drawings, or words. Share it with a family member or friend, and ask them to share theirs too. What connections do you discover?

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▌Coming Next: Session Nine — Staying Connected

As the group nears its end, they’ll explore what it means to say goodbye and how to carry each other forward beyond Room 214.