Promise, Perspective,
and Privilege
Hello again Friends!
So much has happened since my last post, I almost don’t know
where to start! In any event, I title this post as such because I have a few reflections
to offer that in their own ways capture the experiences that have given me the
most food for thought over the past week and a half.
Promise
I speak of promise because for me, that is exactly what the
young ladies I’ve been working with represent. Amidst the myriad of structural
and cultural influences that wish to reduce their lives to another data point
within a population some might think, similar to the moniker for New Orleans, “care forgot”, they show up ready to
challenge those realities daily.
Sister's Keeper ladies creating the "talking stick"
Sister's Keeper ladies creating the "talking box"
Our sessions begin and end in the same way each day. We
start with a short warm-up that’s often a combination of stretching and some
kind of vocal exercise to prepare ourselves to enter the space. We then each
find a chair to create our Sister’s Keeper Circle and begin our “memorable
moment session,” which gives each young lady the opportunity to share something
interesting that may have happened in their lives since meeting in the circle
the day before. At the end of every session, I ask each young lady to find
someone within the circle to hug, and tell the other person, “Thank you for
sharing.” The intention behind all of these activities is to not only make this
space special from the other spaces in which they may be interacting with each
other and others, but also to develop a sense of trust and comfort within the
space that will allow us to dig deeper as the weeks progress.
Pictures from one of our blindfolded trust activities
Pictures from Joint Sister's Circle
Perspective and Privilege
My reflection on privilege and perspective came after the past week and a half of several interactions with individuals who in one way or another echoed the sentiment that the level of crime, violence, poverty, and injustice that exists in "Africa," and South Africa in particular, is to a disturbingly higher degree than that which exists in America. To that, I said this:
Statements like these deeply frustrate me. First, when we begin to get in the business of saying "my injustice is better than yours," we are traversing treacherous territory that makes such statements neither productive nor useful. MLK reminds us that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere". Period. Secondly, I ask you to critically consider that statement in the context of the lived realities of MANY other Americans who do not have the privilege to speak from such a favorable reality. Tell that to a mother in southside Chicago who fears for her child's life every day he or she leaves the house because her child is more likely to die to gun violence than graduate from high school. Tell that to churches, physicians, and activists working to reduce the overwhelming numbers of HIV/AIDS infections in our very own nation's capital of Washington, D.C., whose HIV rate is greater than SEVERAL sub-Saharan African countries. Tell that to Tanya McDowell, a homeless mother from Bridgeport, Connecticut who was sentenced to 12 years in prison for enrolling her child into another school district for better educational opportunity because schools in Bridgeport, ranked #161 out of the 165 Connecticut school districts, were inadequate for her child. And tell that to the parents of Trayvon Martin who fought hard for justice to be served for their son, whose life was abruptly stolen because he was armed with a bag of skittles, a hoodie, and the color of his skin.
Like many others, I too would like to think that these realities are the exception to America's meta-narrative of equal liberty, opportunity, and justice for all, but friends, it is NOT. This is regrettably the reality for many Americans. What is it then about America that makes it so exceptional from the rest of the world? Are people not suffering, hurting, and dying in the America much like people in any other part of the world? One's distance from these realities in America does not deem them nonexistent, less relevant or less important. Before we make grossly generalized statements about America relative to the rest of the world, I ask that you pause to consider the reality that the America you have either heard about or have had the privilege of experiencing may still be an America that many other Americans have yet to experience.
Each of us, and each of our experiences, deserves the dignity of being acknowledged.
This experience is teaching me to be ever mindful of my privilege and the ways it can shape my perspective on how I view the world around me, but most immediately, how I view my work with these young people and their community. It’s less important how different their experiences are from my own, but rather how much they can teach me from their experiences how to be a more effective and more humane public servant. Stay tuned for next week as I continue along this journey!
My reflection on privilege and perspective came after the past week and a half of several interactions with individuals who in one way or another echoed the sentiment that the level of crime, violence, poverty, and injustice that exists in "Africa," and South Africa in particular, is to a disturbingly higher degree than that which exists in America. To that, I said this:
Statements like these deeply frustrate me. First, when we begin to get in the business of saying "my injustice is better than yours," we are traversing treacherous territory that makes such statements neither productive nor useful. MLK reminds us that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere". Period. Secondly, I ask you to critically consider that statement in the context of the lived realities of MANY other Americans who do not have the privilege to speak from such a favorable reality. Tell that to a mother in southside Chicago who fears for her child's life every day he or she leaves the house because her child is more likely to die to gun violence than graduate from high school. Tell that to churches, physicians, and activists working to reduce the overwhelming numbers of HIV/AIDS infections in our very own nation's capital of Washington, D.C., whose HIV rate is greater than SEVERAL sub-Saharan African countries. Tell that to Tanya McDowell, a homeless mother from Bridgeport, Connecticut who was sentenced to 12 years in prison for enrolling her child into another school district for better educational opportunity because schools in Bridgeport, ranked #161 out of the 165 Connecticut school districts, were inadequate for her child. And tell that to the parents of Trayvon Martin who fought hard for justice to be served for their son, whose life was abruptly stolen because he was armed with a bag of skittles, a hoodie, and the color of his skin.
Like many others, I too would like to think that these realities are the exception to America's meta-narrative of equal liberty, opportunity, and justice for all, but friends, it is NOT. This is regrettably the reality for many Americans. What is it then about America that makes it so exceptional from the rest of the world? Are people not suffering, hurting, and dying in the America much like people in any other part of the world? One's distance from these realities in America does not deem them nonexistent, less relevant or less important. Before we make grossly generalized statements about America relative to the rest of the world, I ask that you pause to consider the reality that the America you have either heard about or have had the privilege of experiencing may still be an America that many other Americans have yet to experience.
Each of us, and each of our experiences, deserves the dignity of being acknowledged.
This experience is teaching me to be ever mindful of my privilege and the ways it can shape my perspective on how I view the world around me, but most immediately, how I view my work with these young people and their community. It’s less important how different their experiences are from my own, but rather how much they can teach me from their experiences how to be a more effective and more humane public servant. Stay tuned for next week as I continue along this journey!