Silence

When I was in college, I met a girl.  I will call her Lisa.  We became acquainted and talked occasionally as we lived across the hall from each other.  We weren't best friends or anything, but we did talk about life and where we grew up and our families and our hopes for our future.  In the course of one of these conversations, I discovered she was Native American.  I was surprised, because I would not have expected my very small, very white, very small town school to have attracted someone coming out of another cultural experience, which was my first lesson.  Never assume.  People have a lot of reasons for doing what they do, and its not always obvious at a glance.

Anyway, it turned out she was also surprised.  She assumed I knew she was Native American, because it was such a huge part of her identity, it never occurred to her that anyone wouldn't immediately know that about her.  It was inseparable from her sense of self, in a way that my whiteness was not, and it was a brand new idea for me.

I realized then that we have a lot to learn from each other.

But I didn't fully learn the lesson I needed to, because for many years after that, even through an interracial marriage and having two children, I continued to think in terms of being color blind.  I thought I didn't really "see" color, because I don't care what color your skin or hair or eyes are, I care about WHO you are inside.

But I have learned, from a very reliable and trustworthy source, my own child, that isn't right, either.  Because, in fact, of course I see color.  To say that I don't dismisses the experience of people of all colors, because that is a huge part of who they are and their experience in the world.

I spent a lot of time justifying my position in my own head, and also to her, but in the end, I had to stop talking and listen.  Just listen.  Its not hard, and yet, for some of us, its the hardest thing there is.  Because we are so busy defending ourselves we forget that we might be missing the boat altogether.

I realized, after listening and hearing the words not only from her mouth, but also the words from her heart, said in loving hopefulness of being truly heard, that my attitude was a problem, and more than that, hurtful, not because I am a bad person, but rather because I'm not being honest and true to what I actually see and feel.

In fact, I do see color, and I embrace it in all its beauty and fullness.  I love people of all colors, and I love learning about their lives.  I love hearing about their families, I love celebrating with them, and I grieve with them.  Wherever I have lived, I have embraced the experience and tried to walk alongside the people I met.  What is the purpose of denying all that?

But it all starts with listening.  So I have been quietly listening for the last ten days, as people weighed in on all sides.  And I have learned.  Mostly that I have a lot to learn.

My silence is not a dismissal.  My silence is an embrace.  I am embracing the opportunity to learn, from those who have lived the experience and are willing to share it so that I can better understand and empathize.

Silence is not always acceptance.  Sometimes it is the first step to greater understanding.  The story being told right now is not my story, and I cannot be the teller.  I am the listener.  Only when I understand can I make a meaningful contribution to the dialogue.

Amos 5:24 -

But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!

The road to peace is justice.  Praying for both today and every day.