Gratitude, That Tricky Emotion

I am beginning to believe that gratitude is, by necessity, a bittersweet emotion. It's height is proportional to the depths of the chasm at your feet. Maybe as a newbie to cultivating gratitude it's just easier to notice it when things are good and bad at the same time. And, really, when is that not true?

I'm reminded of the story that I can only find on the web as Kahn's Strawberry Story. It's a short story which I will shorten even further in twitter/haiku format:

Tigers high and low
Mice chew vine so I will fall
Ah, sweet strawberry!

So, back to me. I just dropped my sister off at the airport. She's been at our parent's house for the last week sharing with our sister the care of our Mom and support of our Dad as Mom navigates her last few days or weeks. We really didn't need to say that it was almost surely the last time she'd see Mom alive. I described for her a mix of emotions that I've been cycling through:

1) Mom's dying is completely normal and natural. It will happen to all of us (barring some unlikely combination of science-fiction-style breakthroughs). Since it will happen to each of us then, logically, it will happen to everyone around us. It fascinates me that something so mundane is - simultaneously - so fraught with disbelief and pain. I chalk that up to avoidance, fingers-in-ears-la-la-la denial and a lack of experience. Our culture is so death-averse that we do everything we can (humanely or otherwise) to avoid it and, when we fail, we hide our failures away and collude to ignore it. So ends the rational discourse.

2) It is tragic that my mother is dying. She will no longer be with us. How much of me is bound up with who she is and who she has been for me? I see so much of the good she gave me. How can I become who I need to become without her example and her (rarely given and always welcome) opinion? To the best of my knowledge, neither my mom nor I believe in a supernatural afterlife so this will be it! So ends the maudlin ramblings.

3) The progress of her cancer was slow enough that with reasonably aggressive treatment she's lived a year since her diagnosis. This has given her time to adjust to it and finally to set an awesome example for us. She has served us by allowing us to serve her to the end. Through it all, her concern is for her husband and children and grandchildren. This where my gratitude comes in. I have been so lucky that I have the privilege of... well, everything! I have a loving and committed extended family. I live close to my parents so I can be involved. I have both a supportive and deep church community and a joyful, supportive Aikido group; places and people with whom I can be my whole, complex, flawed, grieving, and celebrating self.

What, you might ask, triggered all this? I was driving to my parents this morning and I smelled the soul-stirring scent of the warm sun on the pine trees and the flowering chaparral. How could this possibly be a bad day?

Building the Dream

Have you ever noticed the similarity between the words "workshop" and "worship"? I've heard my minister, Rev. Dr. Arvid Straube, define worship as "to consider that which has worth". Workshops like the twenty-plus evenings and afternoons I've participated in this year meet that definition.

The series is called "Building the World We Dream About: A Welcoming Congregation Curriculum on Race and Ethnicity". I call the series "Building the Dream" for short and to tie it to Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech. The workshops called me to consider worthy topics and challenged me to consider them and myself in new ways. There were a lot of surprises for me.

I started the year expecting that we would talk about the experience of being "other" in America, black or Latino or Asian. It came as a shock to spend so much time talking about being white. I found out that I took a lot of pride in being "counter-cultural", of not sharing the mindset that others were not as good as me. I was stunned by my dawning realization that this is a luxury that I as a white, male, straight, married, able, middle-class employed person could have because of all the privileges - earned and unearned - that I enjoy. It had never dawned on me how all-encompassing my white privilege is.

I was also surprised at how engaged I became in the process. Part of it was the covenant-group-like structure that encourages intimacy and trust. Part of it was the authenticity and generosity of my companions. Some parts were challenging - hard, even - and I often found myself in uncomfortable territory. It's not fun to realize - again! - that many of the freedoms I enjoy are not equally shared in this country, in this society. Because we are all immersed in this culture, we find it here in my church community, too.

I don't consider myself racist on a personal level and I think that I don't harbor a lot of mass prejudice (though I'm open to guidance, there). Where my racism manifests is by my participation in and support of institutions - educational, political, employment, social, civic, cultural and religious - that have racial and other biases built into their structures and practices. Withdrawing my support for these institutions is not feasible - I would not enjoy being a hermit! - so changing them has to happen as they continue to function. Some, if not most, of those changes will inconvenience those of us who hold privileged status in these institutions. We've seen many examples of this in the educational and employment fields over the last fifty years; desegregation, busing, Equal Opportunity Employment laws, "quotas" and calls of "reverse discrimination".

One of my most painful realizations has been that measured, sustainable change in these institutions necessarily means prolonging and supporting their unjust and oppressive elements for another generation (or more!) but that revolutionary change is risky, too! The good gets thrown out with the bad and everyone suffers until - hopefully! - non-oppressive systems replace them. There are no perfect solutions and yet we must move forward. I look forward to when this curriculum is released and, when that happens, I will take it again.

Assessment

General Assembly has been over for nearly a week and, aside from a couple days head-in-sand, I've been thinking a lot about what I learned, what I saw, what I heard. A lot of it had to do with privilege and oppression.

Since I've been asked to serve as the head of the Diversity Action Group of my church's board, I paid a lot of attention to matters of diversity, race, oppression, and privilege. I thought it would be an interesting exercise to count my blessings or, in AR/AO/MC (Anti-Racism, Anti-Oppression, Multiculturalism) terms, acknowledge my privileges in relation to the society and culture that I live in.

• I am male.

People - in general - accord me more power and more relevance than they do women. In general, I get paid more and have better chances for advancement in my chosen career (plus, I have more career options).


• I am Caucasian.

Being white - whether examined or not - gives me a plethora of social advantages, subtle and overt. I am not targeted as a potential criminal. I am not viewed as less intelligent, less hard-working, less responsible to my family. I get paid more and have better chances for advancement in my chosen career.


• I am paid a living wage (and then some).

I have (relative) economic security. I owe a lot of money on a house but even that gives me a lot of economic clout. All my potential whims and tastes are valued and marketed to. I can get pretty much anything I want.


• I am 50 years old.

I am given the benefit of doubt in matters of experience. I am not treated like an "inexperienced youth" or a "radical" nor am I so old that others view me as being "old-fashioned" or "conservative".


• Most view me as heterosexual.

I am not denigrated for being non-heterosexual. No verbal abuse, no physical abuse. I have full rights to marry and have it recognized in every state.


• I feel that I am heterosexual.

Even considering my family story, I still default to a heterosexist world-view.


• I am a citizen of the United States of America.

I get the benefits of being a privileged member of the richest society on Earth. I can get anything I can afford (or almost afford).


• I have a college education and a bachelor's degree.

People assume that I am smart merely because I went to college. I don't have to prove it over and over again.


• I am part of the power structure in my church

Since I am visible in my congregation and I contribute both time and money and because I am a don't-make-waves/don't ruffle feathers sort of person, I have been invited to be a leader in my church.

I recognize that these privileges puts me into the group of people that benefits from institutionalized oppression. What I am less sure of is how to fix it, how to change the power structures so that we all have equal power and equal access to power.

Working through the Building the Dream curriculum (my shorter name for Building the World We Dream About) that my congregation is testing, I finally realize that I'm not stupid for not understanding all this stuff consciously, innately. I wonder if we need an identity-based ministry for white people. I'm not sure whether Allies for Racial Equity fits that bill.