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Thursday, May 10, 2018

You Can Find Every Race in the Face of Jesus

"You can find every race in the face of Jesus."

Would it surprise you to learn that Jim Carey originated that gem?  Yes, the very same Jim Carey who starred in such sophisticated movies as Dumb and Dumber, The Mask, and Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.

A man who is not sure if Jesus even existed understands something very important:

Jesus represents ALL humans.  Every.Single.One.

He did not come for the people of just one continent.

He did not come for the people of just one class.  

He did not come for the people of just one race.  


He came for everyone.

Jim Carey painting his portrait of Jesus

Our world is in trouble.  We could use a good dose of Jesus right about now, not religion, certainly not politics, but Jesus and his love, mercy, and grace.

Have you noticed that a lot of people are angry almost all of the time?  Just catch me when I'm driving and you will see what I mean.  I speak "sailor" expertly, especially when that person just cut me off, or is driving too slow, or appears to be putting on makeup, or is definitely texting.  I take it personally.  I am certain it was done on purpose.

Have you noticed that so many people are hyper-offended all the time? Sniffing out offenses like obsessive, rabid dogs.  Lifting their chins in what they are certain is "righteous anger".  And then shouting their opinion and reasons why they have a RIGHT to be offended, and by the way you should be offended too.  Take a quick look  at comments on Internet posts, letters to the editor, or listen to callers on talk radio, or even supposedly "unbiased" news media or radio commentators.  Sometimes we are RIGHT in our anger, but somewhere along the way we have lost the ability to have a constructive conversation about anything, let alone things that really matter.

Have you noticed that if you want to talk about race, and the very real problems we still have with it in our own backyard, you had better be prepared to duck because someone, somewhere is likely to be offended?  And Rodney King's plea falls on deaf ears.

Can't we all just get along?

Can't we all just take a deep breath and at least agree that the last few years have been tough for race relations in our country?  All of the death, all of the heartbreak, all of the pain.  Will it ever end?  Is there hope that we can resolve these issues and heal the deep, festering wounds?  Because even if you deny them, it will never change the fact that they are still there.

I used to believe that the state of our union was better than it has proven to be.  Surely the issues were more related to class than race.  But, I had never looked into the issue of racism in depth, probably because it did not really affect me or those closest to me.  That is sinful and ugly, but it is true.

When the Southern Baptist Convention fumbled last year something in me snapped.  I was so grieved.  Why?  I am a white, VERY white, woman.  I have not been personally affected by racism.  It has simply not been part of my experience.  And it certainly has not affected my immediate family, although it has affected some of my extended family.  But that did not relieve my grief.

And then my friend decided to start a Be the Bridge Racial Reconciliation Group.
And she asked me to join.
And I did not want to do it.
And then I did it because I knew God was moving in my cynical heart.
And then I started looking at the history of our country.
Not just the cleaned up version I was taught, but the uglier realities.
And then I started looking at the policies leading to systemic abuse, policies that were created by the powerful and elite on BOTH sides of the political aisle. 
And worse, I started looking at the history of the American church in the South.
And I was disheartened. Sometimes the truth can do that to you before it sets you free.

But this group. This group is good, and hard, and educational, and sometimes uncomfortable, and deeply spiritual.  We all recognize the need to dive deeply into this conversation because we are Christians of all races, classes, and cultures.  What a beautiful way to show the transforming work of Jesus.  Not only do we want to be transformed personally, we want to be change agents just like Jesus was and still is.

But this group.  This group is demanding.  It requires that all of us, no matter our race, look at the reality of our own prejudices.  How our own upbringings and experiences have shaped our attitudes.  People of every race, every culture and every class are guilty of holding prejudiced views against those who are different from them.  No one is let off the hook when it comes to examining dearly held, but flawed beliefs.  A quick review of history proves it.  So let's just say that we are all pulling big ole' planks out of our eyes.  And somehow our vision is clearer.  Funny how that works.

But this group.  This group is safe.  It has created an environment that allows a white woman like me to ask questions that I would fear voicing in a more public space.  We have our very own safe space even though we're not in college.  😊  This group allows each of us the freedom to say things that might offend.  Because we took the time to know each other's hearts early on, we reap the benefits when we discuss the really hard and ugly stuff.

But this group.  This group is personal.  We know, love and ENJOY each other.  We laugh, cry and argue almost every time we meet, but we always end with laughter and hugs.  It's how we roll.

But this group.  This group is special.  I have learned so much.  I am honored to call each member a friend and I love them all to pieces!  It is always beneficial to listen and understand how others experience the world.  I was surprised at how unaware I was of the deep hurt a lot of them carry.  Awareness is a good thing.


I have learned a lot of things I wish were not true about myself and my own prejudices
I have learned a lot of things I wish were not true about this country..

It is hard to see the ugly truth when I am safely ensconced in my bubble.  It's a good bubble, usually clean, mostly safe, and pretty comfortable. And you know what?  There is nothing wrong with my bubble, but I have to remember that it makes for a cloudier view than I would have otherwise.

One thing I have faced is my own defensiveness as a white woman.  It took me some time to recognize that, in general, our system has been set up to favor those of Western European descent.  I made a lot of excuses in defense of this country before I finally began to see things differently.  I know there are many of my friends, family and probably my two readers 😜 who disagree, and I understand why.  Terms like micro-aggression and white privilege are used aggressively now and any disagreement from a white person can get you labeled as a racist faster than you can spell Mississippi.

So even though it's risky, I will be honest outside of my safe space and tell you that the term white privilege makes me bristle.  Please hear me, I know that I am privileged.  I cannot speak for anyone else, but my problem with the term is that when it is applied, in effect it discounts all of the hard work that many white people have done to get where they are.  I personally do not believe that I have benefited from white privilege to the extent others may assume.  I have sacrificed a lot over the years; health, creature comforts, expensive homes, etc.  I also started working full time at 16 and spent years working 70 hour weeks to save money and ensure I could take care of myself.  Now, nearing 50 I am finally seeing some of the fruit of those years of hard work, but I still work a lot, live very frugally and save like a crazy person.  American-style poverty was a reality in my youth and I am not interested in returning to it.  So when you tell me my fruit is because of white privilege it offends me.

BUT, and this is a BIG, FAT BUT, it still doesn't mean that our system is set up to dole out equality to everyone.  Gulp.  If you disagree that's okay, but I would encourage you to do your own research.  Look at ALL points of view, not just the one you identify with and then look at studies and old newspaper articles and actual encyclopedias and real books.  Then go LISTEN and TALK to people from other races AND classes.  Get to know them and really try to put yourself in their shoes when they tell you of their experiences.  Then form your opinion.  And for the record, I am not just talking to white people.  This has to apply to everyone if we want to see permanent change.

As I write this I wonder if anyone cares.  I have no platform.  I am just a boring, kind of frumpy, overweight, white woman. Who cares what I have to say?  And you can probably rightly fault me for not saying enough even after reading all of these words.  Perhaps I'm sugar-coating things because I am afraid of judgment.  I don't know, but even though I am tempted to delete this blog or never publish it, I am compelled to say a few more things, specifically to my fellow Caucasians.

It is time to STOP calling the police because someone of a different race is sitting in a coffee shop.  

It is time to STOP calling the police because there are people of color renting the Air BNB across the street.  

It is time to STOP calling the police because you don't like the person of color falling asleep in the study hall.  

It is time to STOP denying that there are serious racial problems in our country.  

Just.STOP.It.Already.


beabridgebuilder.com

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Caution: Remedial Adulting in Progress

It recently dawned on me that all of my latest posts have been fairly serious.  Since laughter is the best medicine and no one likes a Debbie Downer apart from SNL, I thought it was time for a little bit of humor, albeit at my expense.  So now I'm going to tell on myself.


The first thing you need to know about me is that  I am a remedial adult.  Seriously, "Adulting" is a term reserved for Millennials and I am squarely in the middle of Generation X, but I guess if the shoe fits.....  You would think that after 48 years on this earth I would be better at this whole "Adulting" thing.  But, whether we're talking about cooking, car maintenance, power tools, cleaning, finding love, or even just putting myself together I fail A LOT.  It is most embarrassing when I fail at dressing myself.  I rarely look in a full-length mirror or pay very much attention to my clothes.  Sometimes I try, but then I get distracted and before you know it I'm late and don't have time to finish the basics.  Believe me when I tell you that many friends have tried desperately to help me to no avail.  To top it off, fashion bores me and I am extremely frugal (read:cheap.) 

Well, way back in 1994 I started working at Genesis Treatment Center, a Christian-based mental health clinic.  To this day it is still my favorite job and there are many times when I wish I could go back to the good ole' days.  Dr. Tunnell was the best boss I have ever known and I still love him with all of my heart.  He employed an amazing staff of psychiatrists, psychologists, clinical social workers, licensed professional counselors and administrative staff.  We usually got along, and loved each other like a mildly-dysfunctional family. Those dear co-workers taught me more about unconditional love, grace and mercy than I ever learned at church.  There were still many failures on my part usually because of my immaturity and insecurities, and I deeply regret how I hurt people I genuinely loved.  But I also deeply regret something I did to myself one day.  It was such an embarrassing personal failure that it still causes me to blush when I think about it.   You see, one day I simply went downstairs to the bank.

Okay, there is a little more to the story than that.  Part of my job consisted of depositing the daily receipts.  I counted cash and checks, posted payments, reconciled statements, and wrote deposit tickets.  One day the deposit was rather large and I knew it would take the bank teller a bit of time to count everything.  This was 21 years ago and long before there were fancy money counters and check sorters.  The tellers hand counted all of it in the "olden" days.  Well, I had a terrible addiction to Dr. Pepper at the time, the kind that would find me drinking a 6-pack almost every day or two (another thing I regret because it did a number on my health.)  That meant a lot of desperate bathroom trips because I usually waited too long.  Since I knew I would be at the bank for awhile I made a fateful pit stop in the lady's room.

When I was finished ridding my body of DP, I gathered the deposit (oh, you thought I forgot it like the uncle in Life is Beautiful?  I WISH!) and headed downstairs to the bank.  Now, I am the kind of person who likes to go unnoticed, so when a few people looked at me curiously as I entered the bank it made me uncomfortable.  I fidgeted and focused on the decor and people watching, and wondered if security staff were viewing the feed from the security cameras like they show in the movies.  The bank was the focal point of the first floor with huge floor to ceiling windows and everyone who entered the building had to walk by that bank to get to the elevators. Watching those people took my mind off of why the people in the bank were looking at me strangely.  After waiting in line for 20 minutes it was finally my turn so I dutifully handed over the deposit to the teller.  She counted and recounted the money and after another 10 minutes the deposit was made.  She averted her eyes as thanked me for my business and I turned around and left with yet more people staring at me oddly.

I took the EMPTY (thank God!) elevator back to my office and entered the waiting room full of patients.  Most of them were regulars so I knew them well enough to greet them and joke around.  They were all friendly, but still looking at me with curiosity.  Then I entered the receptionists' office to talk to them for a few minutes.  As I was standing there one of them asked where I had been.  I told her I had been at the bank and she smiled, said, "And the bathroom?" and when I said yes she reached out and pulled my skirt from OUT of my UNDERWEAR!  

Y'all, I was 27 when that happened!  WAY TO OLD to make a mistake like that!  Oh my heavens my face still heats up when I even think about it, because I was also wearing a GIRDLE - that is what we called them BEFORE SPANX for all of you Millennials.  My unmentionables were on display in the waiting room full of patients I had to see EVERY WEEK!  They were on display in a bank full of customer and staff, AND recorded on the security feed.  AND NO ONE TOLD ME!  Not one person said, maybe you should pull your skirt out of your undies you ding dong!  Why, oh why did they just look at me?  Did they think it was a new fashion statement, because it wasn't.  We've already established that I do not care about fashion!   

I sulked and everyone on staff had a good laugh.  You can be certain that I was teased about that for a long time.  But I was SO embarrassed that I refused to go to the bank for almost six months!  I took the stairs so I didn't have to stand in front of the bank while waiting for the elevator.  I refused to  interact with patients for awhile either, because many of them SAW MY UNDIES!  

And then 10 years later when I was 37, I made another mistake while trying to dress myself.  I lived in a beautiful, historic section of San Antonio.  My town home was just a few blocks from the church I attended.  This was a church full of wealthy, proper people who dressed expensively and showed up with every hair in place, matching clothes, perfect accessories, etc.  I never fit in because: Remedial (and poor) Adult.  

One day I was running late for church so I quickly dressed and left so I could show up fashionably late.  Uh-oh.  You should be worrying by now.  Although I made it without being too late the church was full so I had to walk up the ailse and pass most of the congregation to sit on the left side of the church.  I can't remember what it is called, but the church was shaped like a cross, so the left front was where I was seated.  The people next to me were very polite although a few looked at me strangely, but that was nothing new because again: Remedial (and poor) Adult.  After church I greeted a  few people and then made my way to the bathroom, because I was still addicted to Dr. Pepper.  As I entered I chanced a quick look in the mirror and realized that although my skirt was NOT in my underwear, whew, my blouse was on INSIDE OUT!  I quickly put my blouse on properly and snuck out ducking my bright red face and practically ran home to hide.   Boy, those people would certainly remember me now!  How would I ever show my face again?  WHY could I not figure out how to get dressed?

Sigh, all I know is I still need some training, or maybe a life coach, or maybe A LOT of therapy so I can figure this stuff out before I do it again, otherwise I'm going to become an old lady streaker or something!   At least I've learned a few lessons from these experiences.

LESSONS:
  1. Girl, CHECK YOURSELF before exiting a bathroom stall or your home!   
  2. BUY a full-length mirror.  Target or Wal-mart each sell them for $10.  Well worth the cost of your DIGNITY!
  3. USE said full-length mirror EVERY DAY!
  4. Consider wearing PANTS because they are harder to tuck into your UNDERWEAR!

PROGRESS REPORT:
  1. I bought the mirror.  
  2. I forget to use it every day.
  3. I'm still trying to figure out how not to put my blouses on right-side out.    
  4. I wear pants almost every day now.  :-) 
Suggestions for improvement are welcome!