Confronting Issues of Social Justice

Two events have collided this week for me.  A personal experience crossed into the fiasco I have seen unfold on the news. Let me start with my personal story. 

First, we had a landscaper come in to help clear an area of our yard that was overgrown and not cared for when we moved in.  We wanted to get down to the floor of the lawn, overgrown with vines and leaves, and trim up the trees, taking out a dead one.  My husband had discussed this with the neighbor one day, and she seemed excited that we were planning to do this, stating they wanted that too.  So when we started the clean-up, we were not particularly worried about the property line, but clearing the area, most of which was in our yard. Or so we thought.

Sure enough, the man next door came over and chewed out the landscaper's assistant.  Colorfully I guess.  Once we caught wind of it, we pointed out the line and asked them to make sure they left the neighbor's side alone.  We were confused about it, but since the neighbors never came over to talk with us, we assumed it was a bad day, and that things were fine.  We were wrong.  The next day, he came over again, approaching the assistant first, accusing him of trespassing.  The landscaper finally got involved and asked the man to speak with us.  I saw him approach the landscaping crew, so I went to get my husband to talk with the neighbor.  As Mark left the front of the house, the neighbor walked quickly into his house. This dance happened several times.  The neighbor appeared to avoid us at any cost and chose to chew out the assistant.  Hang in there - I have a point.

So on day three, I wandered into our backyard, as the landscaping crew was working within our fence, and asked if there were any more issues.  Our landscaper smiled and then pointed to the assistant and said, 'No, but he has a theory for you. Go ahead, she won't mind.' The assistant said to me, (and I am paraphrasing and trying to give you a bit of the spoken language - it is part of the story) 'Don't you be naive.  This ain't about the line, this 'bout having a black man working with a machete on your property. Had this happen before ma'am, so I know what I sayin!  Got let go from a job cause the owner don't want no black man on his land.  This the south. White folk don't like no black folk in the neighborhood, no way. That what you dealin' with here, I sure of it.'  I just couldn't speak.  I finally choked out, 'I am sorry,' but I had no words for him.  What could I say?

We talked about it that evening, and I wondered, could this be part of the issue, or is it a bad coincidence? Why had we not considered racial prejudice a part of our property line issue? Of course I noticed his race.  I didn't consider what working in our neighborhood might mean. What is our neighborhood and why? I know it is racially-mixed, but obviously our guests did not.  And does our neighbor have a differing view? And of course, being a woman, I know what it feels like to be treated differently, so I also don't want to diminish anyone else's experiences by saying, "Oh, I am sure that isn't it." So sorry was all I could say...and yet, what was I apologizing for? 

So take two, the issue with Paula Deen.  I feel awful about the entire situation, but probably not for the same reason. I have no particular sympathy for Deen.  She had no issue perpetuating stereotypes of the Antebellem South as if it is a simpler time we should yearn for. It blatantly shows her complete ignorance of issues of racism and slavery.  Why would anyone want to promote this as an ideal part of our history - particularly when racism and oppression continue across our planet. Should she be a spokesperson for the new, gentle south? I think not. But she does represent what I see as a south "all dressed up with a dirty neck." We want to present the south as beautifully cultured, but the issues of cultural prejudice continue beneath the surface.  Do I think the Food Network should drop Deen? They have no choice but to do so. 

So my world has collided with the bigger world this week, and I am forced to think even more deeply about how we confront racism, stereotypes, or inequities on a daily basis.  I feel great guilt for being white in this place, knowing the ugliness that has existed here. So how do I change it?  My husband and I both made a point of shaking all the landscapers hands and thanking them, eye to eye.  It isn't enough, but what if each of us chose to meet each other openly, talking about the issues we face as human beings. And I have to find new ways of helping my students uncover their own preconceptions and cultural stereotypes or we perpetuate these issues.  We have to talk about those things that are hardest to talk about.

Here is the bigger picture for me. We can't fight prejudice against culture, gender, sexual preference or socioeconomic status if we don't confront the assumptions we make. And we can't confront those if we aren't willing to hear what someone else is trying to tell us. I am not beyond my own prejudices.  I have realized that I am ready to apply my stereotype belief like the one I hold about athletes (not bright, only worried about their bodies),  or about the rich (vacuous, self-centered, wanting to keep their money to themselves). I would say men like Paula Deen's brother Bubba make my skin crawl, as I identify him as the type of man who makes me so uncomfortable. I imagine the sexual innuendos he probably makes that I am supposed to accept as him being funny, or the ways in which he puts women in their place with stereotypical comments about their sexuality.  It reminds me of the times I was unable to stand up for myself, even when I felt I was being put down for my gender and the job I did. 

Fighting Stereotypes

We all do it.  Each of us lives with certain assumptions about other people.  The rich are selfish, conniving, materialistic folks, devoid of the milk of human kindness.  The poor take welfare checks and buy iPhones, leaving their rent unpaid, and as such are undeserving of our help or support.  Let the churches help them, but leave my tax dollars alone.  The problem with our assumptions of the socioeconomics of our fellow man is that we simply do not have a clue.

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails...

It has become somewhat of a Fall tradition to celebrate with a family birthday weekend, gathering in Raleigh to spend a day playing in the city and selecting a fine dining experience before retiring very late, sleeping just a little, and having a big breakfast before heading home.  In the spring, we are hard-pressed to get the family together even with Easter right around the corner.  But tomorrow is our youngest child's birthday. For about a month, I have been thinking about, and hoping to spend the day with him, just as I do with our oldest child in the fall.  We are going to manage to do so ON the day of his birth, driving up to take him shopping, lunch, and present him with gifts worthy of a 28-year old man. 

It is also a time I feel nostalgic about our kids, in a way that grips my heart a bit. After all, giving birth changes your life forever and you learn to love in a way that is impossible to explain with words. I wonder at the amazing people they have become, knowing I may have been a part of that but understanding it was only a very small part.  I feel so thankful I married a man who was my partner through these many ups and downs of child-rearing, sharing in every aspect of their lives from the very beginning.  I am indebted to the many people along the way who helped shape them and offered encouragement in their lives - both to them and to us!  I find that I am able to forgive the transgressions and know it has made them stronger and taught me lessons on letting go and allowing my children to grow and find themselves in the process.

Around their birthdays, I pour over old pictures of their newborn faces, wonder at how tiny they were, and how quickly they grew.  It seems now they grew up in a week, yet I remember at the time I thought it would last forever.  I vowed I would never regret a minute of raising our children.  Though there are no regrets specifically (I mean, who wouldn't wish they had had more patience?), I wouldn't mind feeling that grimey little hand tugging at my skirt and to look down into those big blue eyes and wide grin from either of my children. I remember them best at about 3 and 6, with the youngest as a happy, giggly, wiggly little boy and his sister, serious, contemplative, and loving.  The two together were often tangled in a war of power or ownership, but most often I have a video in my mind of the two children with the oldest in the lead, followed by a tow-headed little guy hanging on her every word...played out, of course, as only an intelligent, worldly big sister can. The two of them at that age seems more etched in my memory...to the point that at times, I still see that child in the depth of their eyes today.

I don't wish for time to play out differently.  Nostalgia is a part of growing older.  Instead, we are constantly amazed at the wonderful human beings they have become. Not perfect, mind you, just nice, kind people, sensitive to the needs of the world around them, and working hard to find their place in it.  We are so very proud of the people they are, and we enjoy being around them, with them, and they are still teaching us about life.  Now, we are learning how to be parents to adult children.  

So tomorrow we celebrate, laugh, enjoy the moments, and I will try to pack those memories away for the future.  And I wish him a year of love, laughter, and dreams coming true as only his mother can.