I work in an environment where every day, I am with others engaged in the business of education. Yet. Yet for me, most of my education was never in a school. I went to college and grad school and as I have documented here before (see previous post from June), I was a terrible student. No, really. Like: when I went to the guidance counselor at high school about applying to colleges, he said that I should only try the state schools, and even then, might need to do some additional work to get in. When I get in to the University of New Hampshire, did I learn my lesson and buckle down? Absolutely not. I was there to live, to experience, to write and to begin to figure out who I was. My grades reflected exactly who I was at that time. Flash forward my application for grad school. The wonderfully kind, former Dean and founder of the Writing Program at Emerson College called me up to say that they would accept me but that I would have to get grades up or I couldn't stay. He saw something in me, I guess, and Goddess bless Jim Randall wherever his final rest took him. I promised him I would. Certainly, it helped that I was doing the work that most held my heart: writing and thinking about writing. I kept my word to Jim and in my first semester accomplished something I had never experienced in my life: straight As.
But this ISN'T about getting good grades; this is me claiming what education means, and why I am so very grateful for what I have learned inside and outside of schools.
It's no secret to anyone who knows me or reads this blog that I am a progressive liberal, and that the current toxic political climate breaks me open every day. Every day, new attacks are lobbed against the most vulnerable, most marginalized, in the name of an imagined Nationalist hysteria of victimization. Dark history repeats itself -- the one we said "never again" to -- and still, the insanity continues. And those who care about the value of education...this value of knowing history... cry out: how can this be?
My faith tradition -- Unitarian Universalist -- claims as its first Principle: The inherent worth and dignity of all people. ALL people. On social media, UU friends struggle. Yes, inherent worth and dignity, no matter what, even in uncivil times. "When they go low, we go high", Michelle Obama said. I remind myself of this.
This morning, I led one of the summer worship services at my church. In the sermon titled: A Wide-Eyed Theology, I put into words what I have been carrying in my heart for months. The challenge I have always understood -- grades notwithstanding -- is that it is my duty to learn more and to take what I have learned to create a better world, however I can. If you believe in inherent worth, then what you must offer is love and a listening open heart. The Unitarian Universalist Association has been focused on owning what we -- an organization that has benefited from white supremacy -- must do to change this history and trajectory. All these ideas were brewing as I wrote my sermon. Below is a portion:
-----------------
I think about white privilege a lot. I think about marginalized people a lot. The blessing for me being in the role that I am at Harvard Divinity School is that I meet students constantly who are going through, have lived through, have grown up with, and have been limited by factors that I have not personally experienced. So what I do is listen. I told a friend once that I want to get a shirt someday that says: TELL ME YOUR STORY SO I CAN UNDERSTAND.
It’s a shirt I want to wear every day, forever, because we DON’T understand. We think we do and we believe we have good intentions. And maybe we do…but it’s not enough.
Because here’s the thing: part of how “we are” includes a tendency to think that we “GET it.” You know what I mean. I’ve read Ta-Nehisi Coates. I wear rainbow pins. I know the difference between a hijab and a burka and I know there are a bunch of other head things that get worn. So I get it. Got it. Good.
Do I get it? Do I? HELL no.
I *want* to, though. I do. I want to arrive at that place of perfect clarity and understanding. Yes, I do but actually? I have no idea what it means to be a person of color today, no idea what it means to be a Native American today, NO idea what it is to be Muslim, a trans person, an undocumented person – an anyone. Anyone, except myself, really.
It’s a trap and it’s so easy to fall into it. Even for denominations. Because when you think you’re “there”, you stop looking and listening. You stop questioning where your actions come from – whether a place of honest effort – or a place of privilege. Is that what brought things to a head at the UUA last year? I don’t know. I don’t know but I CAN say that we damn well better learn from it. Because there is so much work for us to do. Always. We ARE called to build that beautiful city. ALL of us.
For me, it’s simple: I plan to spend the rest of my life assuming I don’t – know- anything, that I just need to listen and learn. For the rest of my life.
I believe that as a non-person of color, if we aren’t outraged about both our history and our every day in America now, then we are using our privilege and are complicit. Period.
------------------
And I am grateful. I am grateful that somehow, through my academic bumbling, I was able to spend enough time to make some progress and use the craft of writing to find out what I think and string some sentences together. The bigger gratitude is to life: for putting me in places where I can meet the people and hear the stories.
This blog post is incomplete: I recognize that. Each sentence branches out but will need to wait for future growth.
For now, friends, if you have ever told me your story: THANK YOU. From the bottom of my heart: keep telling me.
The encore for the day? Listen. Listen to the people and take the stories to heart. OPEN heart. When you hear and feel it, you will know what to do. Offer the world love.
Peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment