Category: Love

Cries of Five Hundred Years

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

crying

There is a certain type of conversation that is incredibly difficult to endure. We almost all encounter them in our lifetimes. Mine came from my mother, my husband, my children, my bosses, my students. They were presented in moments of frustration, but always with the idea of helping me to understand something about which I was seemingly oblivious. They required a willingness on my part to suspend preconceived notions and judgements and simply listen with an intent to learn. Since they sometimes involved a critique of my actions or beliefs they were humbling and often tempted me to defend myself. All of them ultimately improved my relationship with the person who was in a way giving me the magnificent gift of honesty and an opportunity to change.

My mother often engaged in such soul searching with me. She was never afraid to provide me with a truthful assessment of my behavior. Even though I often was initially  angry with her, upon some sincere meditation I almost always realized that she had helped me to become a better person with her appraisals. Indeed, I might have been a mediocre teacher and wife and mother without her unfiltered sagacity at important junctures in my life.

I have always considered myself to be a peacemaker. I despise conflict of any kind. My life has had enough uproar without my purposely seeking to shake things up. Still, there have been moments when I realized that my silence would fly in the face of the ethics by which I measure the morality of my life. I know that I cannot look away from hurt or pain simply because I want to keep a measure of calm in my world.

I am reminded of two incidents that had a profound effect on who I try to be. The first occurred when I was eight years old shortly after my father had died. My family had moved to a new home and we were just getting to know all of the neighbors. One evening we were alerted that the man two doors down had shot and killed his wife. The police were on their way as we all stood on the sidewalk waiting to see what would happen next. We could hear the children in that home crying in terror but nobody moved to help them. From out of nowhere came Kathleen Bush, a tiny woman with nerves of steel. She marched straight to the house, banged on the door, and ordered the killer to release the children. She threatened to break down the door if necessary. Within minutes the little ones came outside one by one. Without saying anything to the rest of us Kathleen took the babies to the safety of her home.

Years later a man was beating his wife in an apartment in the same courtyard as mine. She was screaming for help and her children were standing in the window crying. Once again someone had called the police and the rest of us stood around nervously hearing and watching what was happening. A woman left the gaggle of onlookers, bounded up the stairs and banged on the front door demanding that the children be allowed to leave. She was unafraid even as the man began to threaten her. She kicked the door and made threats of her own until the children were safely in her arms.

Those two women taught me the importance and power of someone who is unwilling to just be a bystander when a wrong is being done. They never even thought of their own safety and risked being hurt to save those children. I have the highest respect for them to this very day.

I have almost always taught minority children. In my last school I encountered a group of Black students who schooled me on the difficulties facing them on a daily basis. I had rather naively believed that with the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the election of Barack Obama that the problems of the past had mostly evaporated. After all, I have Black neighbors and I worked on equal footing with Black educators. I wondered how things could possible be so bad.

It was then they my students opened up with great honesty. They expressed feelings and ideas that made me feel uncomfortable but I decided to listen without prejudice. I did not attempt to change their opinions or explain mine. I just heard what they were saying, knowing that they were not trying to hurt me, but rather to help me understand. It was one of those very difficult conversations that felt quite uncomfortable. In the end I began to realize that in spite of my efforts to be a good and loving person I had missed the extent to which Black in America are still being abused by much of society. The students gave me a great gift. They showed me a truth of which I had been ignorant. Suddenly I saw the realities of what they had told me with eyes no longer blinded by my own experiences. 

The best explanation of the Black Lives Matter movement that I have heard relates it to disease. Right now we are engaged in a battle with the Covid 19 virus. Our emphasis on it does not mean that we do not care about cancer or heart disease or any other illness. It just means that right now it is the source of our biggest health concern. So too, saying that Black lives matter does not mean that Black people are somehow more important than all people but that our Black citizens daily grabble with fears most of us never experience. Even when they are innocently running for exercise they may be in grave danger of being suspected of having criminal intent and lose their lives. It is a concern that few of us have and in our complacency we have too long stood waiting for someone else to come to their  rescue

That is why I am so adamant in my support of the Black Lives Matter movement. The protests and marches may not be perfect because they have at times been infiltrated with bad actors who have changed our focus with their destruction. That is not what should be most important to us. The emphasis should be on the reason for why Black Lives must matter to us all. Literally millions of Black people from around the world are crying out for all of us to understand their plight. They are screaming to be saved. Through a long line of history they have cried out with in pain for more than five hundred years. Why are so many of us still refusing to listen?

A Time To Share

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Unemployment

I have had many different lives during my seventy one years on this earth. When my father was our family breadwinner I enjoyed luxuries that many of my cousins never realized. We always had a relatively new luxury car. Our home was modern and filled with beautiful furnishings. After he died things changed drastically. Suddenly I learned what it was like to be continually worried that our family might run out of food before the next check came. My mother was masterful at stretching our meager income and somehow always found a way to keep us supplied with the basics of food, shelter and clothing but there was always a specter of losing it all looming over us. I suppose that because of that experience I never again took any good fortune for granted.

When I became an adult I worked alongside my husband to provide for our family. Neither of us ever made a great deal of money but we almost always had what we needed to enjoy a comfortable life. We were able to purchase a home and pay for our daughters to attend college. We even managed to prepare for our retirement years and have enough to take some wonderful trips here and there. Nonetheless I never quite got over the anxieties that I often felt when as a child I would look inside our refrigerator and see bare walls with a day or two left before we would be able to replenish our larders at the grocery store.

Living from check to check is stressful and so I have always had a clear understanding of the students that I taught who were living in circumstances even more dire than the ones that I had experienced. I knew that one small emergency or illness or needed repair can turn into a major disaster for anyone whose economic situation is precarious. I also understood that once someone is in such a situation even with very hard work it can be challenging to move up the economic ladder. For that reason I have never felt beset upon when my taxes were used to help others in need. Instead I have been grateful that I have enough to share for without government help and that of my community I don’t know what would have become of my brothers and me.

I have always lived with a sense of appreciation and a feeling that those of us who have more should help with those who have less. I have never begrudged the social programs that give people an economic boost even if they result in individuals like me paying the government a bit more to keep them running. I am a person who knows what it is like to wait all day long in a free clinic to get inoculations for school. I am someone who benefitted from the social security payments that kept my brothers and I alive after my father died.

With the scourge of the pandemic and the bust of the oil industry there are still millions of American citizens who suddenly find themselves unemployed. These are people who only months ago had great jobs and plans for the future. With little or no warning they were suddenly informed that their positions were being eliminated. It was a kind of insult added to injury as they scrambled to cope with all of the inconveniences of the pandemic. In some cases both husbands and wives faced unexpected job loss, so when Congress voted to provide an additional six hundred dollars a month to their unemployment checks it was a godsend. In may instances it was literally the needed assurance to keep their homes. Nonetheless I also learned of people that I know who became homeless in a time when we were supposed to huddling in our domiciles. 

There are many unfortunate souls who are now in a state of anxiety because those extra payments are slated to end soon and they have yet to find new jobs. Even as many in the retail and service industries are opening back up and lowering the numbers of those without work, large corporations like BP are announcing plans to lay off ten thousand more. Sadly both the president and many in the general public are reluctant to extend the unemployment benefit past July. They even cruelly suggest that those who are still hunting for jobs are just lazy slackers who need to get off of their behinds and get back to work.

That would be all well in good if everyone had a position waiting for them to go back to work. I personally know highly educated, brilliant and hard working individuals who have been unsuccessfully attempting to find jobs for over three months. In a good economy they would have been snapped up in a week or so, but our present situation is still fragile and employers are reluctant to begin a hiring frenzy. The more likely outcome is that there may be even more layoffs in the coming weeks. Knowing that, the unemployed people that I know have expressed a willingness to relocate anywhere in the world if necessary. They will uproot their families and venture far away from the lives they have built if that is what it takes. In the meantime they need help because for every job that materializes there are thousands of applicants.

Most of us have only been slightly inconvenienced by Covid-19. We may be bored and desirous of resuming our normal lives but we are not wondering what we ill do when our savings are gone and we have no new leads on work. We should all be insisting that we take care of our fellow citizens in these unprecedented times. Even if it takes a pinch out of our own comfortable lives we should not mind. Americans are known for generosity. Now more than ever we need to think of the people who are lying awake at night worrying and provide them with the reassurance that we will not let them down.

Ironically when I was writing this blog I made a cup of tea and reached for a fortune cookie that came with a takeout dinner that we enjoyed a few Fridays ago. The message inside seemed to say it all, “Pure love is a willingness to give without  a thought of receiving anything in return.” We have to get through all of this together. The weight of sacrifice should not be limited to a few. Demand that Congress continue to take care of people still struggling to find work.

The Innocence

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Babies sitting on floor together

Children are so beautiful. They are born with such innocence. A newborn baby is capable of learning any language on earth and embracing any culture. There is not a hint of prejudice in a tiny human’s heart. Children are filled with curiosity that naturally prompts them to explore their world and learn about it. They are fearless in that journey, so much so that we have to protect them from tasting toxins or putting their hands into fire. They look to adults to guide and influence them. If they are surrounded by love and care they tend to thrive but if all they see is anger and abuse their unblemished purity of heart can slowly become tainted. Adults who hate have been somehow taught to be that way.

I have been thinking about children a great deal of late, but then I suppose that I really always think about children. It is in them that I have found my greatest purpose and joy in life. They are my calling, a reason for maintaining optimism and hope. They are precious gifts whose guilelessness is waiting to be directed toward honor, compassion, purpose, courage.

I have been thinking about my mother a great deal of late. I suppose that hearing George Floyd call for his mama with his last breaths has awakened a sense of how important the relationships between mother and child, father and child, teacher and child truly are. When I think of my own mama I see unconditional love. I have tried to remember if she ever spanked me and I honestly can’t think of a single time when she did that even though there might have been occasions when I certainly deserved such a consequence. I suppose that I learned more from witnessing her example than from any lectures or lessons she may have given me. As children we watch and learn from action.

My own mother was a model of kindness and generosity. That is what my brothers and I saw on a continual basis. At the end of each day she tucked us in, reassured us of her love, apologized for any mistakes she may have made. She was not flawless, no human is, but the pattern of her life demonstrated the selflessness that was her vocation. If I have even a smidgen of goodness in me I most certainly learned it first from her.

As I grew people were mostly kind to me. In that regard I was fortunate, but as happens with virtually everyone I also encountered tortured souls who taught me lessons in their own perverse ways. The grossly unjust teacher that I had in the fourth grade showed me how not to be. The man whose racist political views stunned me enlightened me in how not to think. The boss who publicly raged against his employees convinced me that there were better ways for dealing with problems at work. In other words I was not swayed by forces that were so contrary to the foundations of character that my mother had built in my soul but rather her influence strengthened my resolve to emulate her.’

Some children are not as lucky as I was. They endure neglect, physical and emotional abuse. They are psychologically torn down. The are taught that violence is a natural way of living. They hear adults spewing hate as gospel and they begin to believe it. Over time they endure insults and degradation so often that they perversely see it as a sign of strength. They hide behind violence to solve problems. They have learned this from watching and hearing the adults in their little corner of the world. Their innocence has been transformed into meanness, brutality, racism. 

Perhaps the most difficult memories from my long teaching career occurred when I met parents that I knew were somehow teaching their children to be angry bullies. It pained me to wonder how their own twisted ideas had been so firmly implanted in their youngsters. Often they would boast about the firm control they had over the members of their family. They viewed the world as a zero sum game in which the only way to win was by crushing competition. I knew after meeting them that my own influence on their sons or daughters would most likely be minimal and yet I understood that I had to nonetheless provide an example of a more positive way of being. I hoped that I might somehow spark a realization in my troubled student that life does not have to be about dominance.

It can be discouraging to see people who are so obviously mean and self absorbed. It is even more disheartening to witness them having a negative impact on the shaping of a young person. Even worse is how often their ugliness is enabled either from fear or hopelessness or because those around them actually hold the same disturbing views. Sweet babies subjected to such influences all too often become broken souls capable of indescribable acts. The cycle of physical and emotional violence is handed down from one generation to the next.

I am a mama to my daughters but also to the many students that I have taught. I have tried to be the kind of example that my own mother was to me. I did my best to demonstrate the power that love always has over hate. I tried to defended the  young people in my care from harm and prejudice and hate, but every child eventually has to make his/her way through a world that has far too much cruelty. Few of us have never encountered such things. My only hope has always been that the hurts that my babies endure will be minimal and that they will have the strength of character to push back on its fury. The battle for good over evil begins in the home, in the classroom, in our relationships. It’s up to us to keep the love and the understanding alive, especially when we see it’s adversaries rising up.

 

  

Opening Our Hearts and Minds

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

open-minded-2

As a mathematics teacher I daily encountered frustrating moments when students did not understand concepts that I was attempting to present to them. It was sometimes difficult to find a way to help them grasp what I was saying. I often had to use visuals, stories, songs, sayings, anything that would make headway in conveying a formula or a process. As I became more experienced in the methodologies of teaching I realized that at any given moment my students would have different perceptions, experiences and comprehensions of whatever I was attempting to explain. I had to work hard to find the exact methods that worked for each individual which was a daunting task. It was a constant challenge to reach each student as best I could.

My mother used to tease me by insisting that I always sounded like a teacher even when I was engaging in everyday conversations. I guess the habits of a educator die hard. We are always edifying, presenting information in the hopes of opening minds and encouraging people to look at the world from many different perspectives. It becomes second nature for most teachers to see lessons to be learned wherever we go. In an attempt to practice what we preach we tend to be curious souls who are willing to forge new frontiers when it comes to ideas. So it has been for me with the Black Lives Matter movement.

I’ll be the first to admit that I did not correctly understand the concept of Black Lives Matter when that mantra first appeared. I am fairly certain that I even wrote a blog insisting that if we are totally fair humans we should emphasize that All Lives Matter. In retrospect I realize that I had an instantaneous reaction to the phrase Black Lives Matter based on a my own life without taking the time to think about what it meant to someone who is African American. In spite of being an avid student of literature and history I missed the nuance of the wording. Instead I interpreted it from a purely literal standpoint thinking that it somehow tossed aside the value of every person in favor of a single group. Since that time I believe that I have come to a far clearer understanding of the more profound meaning of what Black Lives Matter means.

The heart of the phrase Black Lives Matter is a reaction to the treatment of African Americans from their earliest history as slaves in this country. Any person or society willing to buy, sell and treat a human more like a commodity or a lesser being is very clearly indicating that the life of that Black person does not really matter. Of course you may point out that we have not had slavery for around one hundred fifty years, but I would note that during that span of time we continued to treat free Black men and women as though they did not matter. We segregated ourselves from them and forced them into areas of town that were underserved by schools, stores, and even basics like clean water. We only minimally provided them with education and opportunity. Indeed we passed laws around fifty five years ago that attempted to right those wrong but the progress has been slow. As the years went by and Black citizens did their best to become integral and important members of a free society there continued to be far too many incidents that demonstrated that they did not matter. So when someone says that Black Lives Matter, it is a way of emphasizing that we can no longer allow the African American citizens of this country or any country to be dismissed as being of little value. We do that when we ignore that fact that simply existing with black skin can be a dangerous thing. We cannot pretend that racism does not exist even if we ourselves do not have such foul inclinations. The Black Lives of our neighbors, coworkers and friends do matter and when one of them is treated with injustice we must all call out the person or organization that does so. That is what Black Lives Matter truly means, asserting that we will no longer look away when we see discrimination because we regard Black Americans as the precious brothers and sisters from God that they are. 

Saying that All Lives Matter misses the central point because it is not all of us who are enduring daily reminders that some in our midst believe that Black lives have less value than ours. Our goal should be to vigilantly work to finally achieve equality and justice for African Americans. It is not a way of lessening our own importance or that of anyone else.  We lose nothing by working for a better world for others. In fact, a young lady whom I hope will one day be my granddaughter explained Black Lives Matter as simply a way of celebrating the wonder and importance of our Black citizens with no reservations. It is telling them once and for all that we do believe that they matter very much and that we are sorry for the ways that they have been treated in the past. 

Taking the comfortable route of denying the problem simply because we don’t see it is an insult. It says to those who try to explain what they are feeling and experiencing that we don’t value their word enough to believe that their emotions are genuine. We accuse them of whining as though we have the power to read their minds, walk in their shoes. Think of how horrific it would be to know in your heart of hearts that you are being abused and then learn that most people think you are exaggerating. Would you believe that your life mattered to anyone who refused to hear and understand what you were saying?

Nobody is is asserting that only Black Lives matter. They are simply asking those of us who have grown up white to open our hearts and minds to the idea that there are still people who see skin color as the only means of determining the worth of an individual. Why do so many among us not deny that our Black citizens have to regularly endure racism when even the Black man who rose to be President of the United States feels its sting?

Over the past days hundreds of thousands of people across the world have participated in marches and protests designed to focus on the value of Black lives. Out of those many thousands there has been a very small percentage of people intent on destruction and not all of them have been Black. We have learned that nefarious groups from the far left and the far right have incited violence to purposely create chaos for their own political agendas. We must be careful not to equate an entire movement with the dirty work of the few.

You can show your support by attempting to understand the deeper historical meaning of Black Lives Matter. You can try to understand that no Black person ever took a knee during the playing of the National Anthem to insult our military. It was only to point out that we have societal problems that we have yet to address. It was a very peaceful means of drawing attention to issues. We must stop focusing on the bad acts of the few and support the glorious dreams of the majority.

Think of those times when you were a school child behaving politely in every way and a teacher punished you and everyone else because a couple of kids got out of line. Think of how angry and defeated that made you feel. Think of how unfair it was. Maybe then you will be able to understand and embrace the Black Lives Matter cause for what it is.

Finally, please do not just look away. That is what our society has been doing for too long. It may be painful to be totally honest about the realities that Black Americans face but if we are ever going to make the needed changes more of us must finally see and hear them. We have to be open to ideas that may challenge the ways we have always thought. We must let Black Americans know how much they matter by a willingness to suspend our preconceived notions.

I Must Do More Than Pray

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Bible_Cover

I am a religious person but not nearly as spiritual as some that I know. I try to do better and I talk to God all the time but I know that I have much room to grow in my faith. I don’t pretend to be a theologian and I’m hardly a master of the Bible. My little niece, Lorelai, is better versed in the books and chapter and verses than I will ever be. I spent twelve years taking religion classes in Catholic schools and I picked up the essence the teachings of Jesus over time. Somehow I have always thought that His message was profound but simple. To me it has always been summarized in His commandment that we love our neighbors as we love ourselves. This should not be that difficult to do and yet all of us stray from that dictum over and over again.

Jesus also told us to judge not lest we be judged and yet it as always seemed to me that those of us who are Christians are often the very first to to shake our heads in judgement whenever we witness behaviors that we disapprove. It is so difficult to set aside the haughtiness of self righteousness, a sin of which I am particularly guilty even as I write these words. I suppose that Jesus understood quite well the frailties that we humans possess and so he attempted to teach us about the things that we were most likely to do wrong.

I have been asking Jesus to help us all these days. My heart is heavy with grief and anger over the plight of Black Americans in an era when we should be well beyond the injustices of the past. I’ve been overly judgmental of family members, friends, and strangers who can’t seem to understand what is happening in the Black Lives Matter movement. I am livid about our president and his tone deaf response to what is happening. I do not understand why he thinks the way he does, nor why he cannot see how divisive his comments are. I tell myself that it is not up to me to judge him or anyone else. That should be God’s work and only God will ever really know what to make of his heart. Still I think that as a Catholic Christian I have a right to speak out when I disagree with him.

A church building is sacred to me. It has always been a place of refuge and peace. I do not take lightly the power of community and love that it represents and so it is with the Bible, a book that I know I should read more often. We swear to tell the truth on the Bible. We seek direction for our lives in the Bible. We hear about the life of Jesus in the Bible and hopefully we model on lives on His example as described in the Bible. For that reason I do not think that either a church building or the Bible should be treated without great reverence and respect.

I did not agree with President Trump’s bravado in speaking with the nation’s governors earlier this week. I felt that his use of words and invoking of military terminology as a means of controlling the violence and looting associated with the protests was like throwing gasoline on a fire. There are ways of preventing and controlling illegal actions without resoring to extreme measures. I would rather have heard him taking the time to show more compassion for those who are angry. I would like to see him attempting to listen and understand rather than talk and command. There is no weakness in averting chaos with understanding and love. It is possible to be a guide toward good, a model leader of character and concern and that is what I hoped he would be. We need to hear him providing concrete ideas for eliminating discrimination. 

I have prayed because I do not have all the answers. I have prayed because maybe I am wrong but my heart tells me that berating governors and bragging about dire consequences for those who do not tow the line is abusive. People might fall in line for someone who threatens them with punishment but such harshness will only intensify their feelings. We do not need a nation that silently bears grievances only because it fears to suffer the ire of the very person who should be helping to make us feel safe and honored as people. 

I did not like that a peaceful crowd in front of the White House was cleared with tear gas just so the President could strut across the street to a church that he has never once attended and hold up a Bible for a photo opportunity after he had just humiliated our governors and threatened the protestors with grave repercussions. If it was not a travesty it was at least a moment of embarrassingly bad taste. It certainly dashed any hopes that I might have had for the show of healing and human kindness that I believe our nation desperately needs.

I keep praying to Jesus. I feel his love and comfort and I thank Him for the blessings that  have filled my life. Still I implore Him to help us. I ask Him to show me what I must do for surely my thoughts and prayers are not enough. I will continue to blog. I will cast votes in November. I will work for what I feel to be right. I will ask Jesus to bring peace and justice to our country.