Sunday, September 4, 2016

Don't Wait For Someone Else To Draw The Bigger Circle!



In the interest of full disclosure, I am a Southern born, white female raised in a Democrat-turned-Republican household that supported desegregation and my dad was appointed to Nixon's sub-cabinet. I'm also a recovering union stage manager, recovering Southern Baptist, current Chinese Medicine practitioner, Democratic Independent and Taoist - oh, and bisexual, hetero-monochromatically married mother of a 10 year old boy, living in Baltimore. Needless to say, I've got a lot going on and there are people in my life from all across the spectrum.

That being said, regardless with whom I engage, what I'm hearing over and over again is that we all need to change how we move in the world. The time for being armchair activists is over.

Years ago, when GW got elected a second time, much to my horror, I decided I needed to know why intelligent, compassionate people, that I loved, had voted for him a second time. So, I called one of my sisters and asked.
I did not say, “How the hell could you do that?”
I said, “I'm calling to ask you a question – not to be political or to argue but because I really want and need to know the answer. Why did you vote for him a second time? I need you to explain it to me because I just can't reconcile it with who I know you to be.”
And so, she did. The conversation that ensued was eye-opening and amazing and important. We did not change each other's point of view and yet, we came to understand why we each did what we did in a way that was healing and brought us closer.

We are not all meant to get along and agree on everything. There are just too many of us on the planet for that to be feasible. As one might guess, I'm not fond of boxes. I learned years ago not to assume that people fall neatly into ideological groups by what race, profession, gender, or whatever they are. For example, I knew a a theatrical technical director that was Republican. Who knew?! And what a surprise when I learned that not all lesbians were well read, interesting people.

It is tempting, however, to want to insulate ourselves from those that think and behave differently than we do. It can be a very needed form of protection. For a while. It if becomes a habit, though, we become too insular. The circle gets too small and chokes the humanity out of us. This is why I continue to engage with people with whom I, often vehemently, disagree.

I'm drawing a bigger circle, however painful that may be. One we can all live in. Because I believe that is the only thing that can save us. I am not saying condone abhorrent behavior. I'm saying find the common ground where healing can begin. As the poet, Rumi, would say, “There is a field out beyond right and wrong. I'll meet you there.” I'm willing to meet anyone there, who is willing to do the work.

This brings me to G, whom I knew in high school and have reconnected with on Facebook. We are on opposite sides of the political and social spectrum. We are also both white. We disagree on everything from the environment to politics to U.S. race relations. There are many times I have wanted to shake him by his ears and on occasion, unfriend him. I haven't, though. Articulating the things I feel strongly about so that I hope he can hear them has taught me to hone my intention and language in a way that draws that bigger circle. It is important that our entire dialogue exists in type for all the Facebook world to see and I am very aware that our discussions are not just for us. It's like having guests over for dinner. Suddenly, everyone's table manners are better. Both G and I are very aware of the wording of our interactions and have, in the past, labored for actual months to be able to find one sentence of common ground between us.
And we found it.

Because I continue to have these types of conversations with my family and friends and strangers, I understand the fear and passion and sadness of “the other side” while honing a clearer and clearer understanding of what I hold dear and why. Were I only preaching to the choir, none of us would learn anything and the world would remain a very small place.

Through these discussions, I have not only learned more environmental science, political history, and social history but I have also gained more understanding of the lived experience of being transgender, a person of color, Muslim, Jewish, devote Christian, Republican, died in the wool Democrat, socialist, conservative, a member of the police and so many other things. Most importantly, it has informed my experience and understanding of being white, Southern, female, educated, and American, and how that impacts me and everyone around me.

It's a practice. I don't always get it right. And I keep practicing.

Because of these conversations, when I am with my friends, family, strangers and my patients, I have more ease in asking, “How are you? How are you holding up?” after the killings of unarmed black people, GLBTQ people, and white police officers - or in the case of Native Americans, knowing why not to ask, “Did you have a good 4th?” or “How was your Thanksgiving?”.

Then – here's the important part - just listening - to their pain and sadness and anger without judgment, my heart open to the point of breaking and yet, not making it about me. If I can do this for others, then I know, when my heartbreak comes, they will do it for me because the circle is big enough for all of us and together we will heal.

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