Category: Tolerance

Make Waves

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Waves.jpgWhen the waves of life crash down on you, pick yourself up, get ready for the next one, and ride it like you own it!!!

I’ve enjoyed living only fifty miles or so from the beach for all of my life. While Galveston Island, Texas doesn’t compare to the grandeur of Destin, Florida or La Jolla, California it has definitely been adequate enough to bring me decades of pleasure. When I was still a young girl there was hardly any adventure that I enjoyed more than riding the waves of Galveston Bay. I loved how the water would lift me off of my feet and propel me in directions over which I had no control. The laws of physics created a ride that made me squeal with delight and I would spend literally hours repeating the process of floating and bobbing like a piece of driftwood over and over again until my mother demanded that I come back to shore lest the sun blister and burn my skin.

There is something liberating about freeing ourselves from the constraints of gravity and just letting go. When we allow ourselves to be one with the waves of the ocean we become part of a great cosmic ritual that ties us to the universe. It is a primal pleasure that gives us both a sense of our own power and the reality that we are but a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things. Somehow our worries and cares don’t seem to matter as much when we surrender to the surge of water that washes over us. We learn that thrashing and fighting against the tide may cause us harm, but simply floating and enjoying the ride will provide us with a rush of pleasure and happiness. Life is so much like that. There are things that happen to us that we can command and others over which we have little or no control. Knowing the difference will help us to lead much more joy filled lives.

A couple of weeks ago the skies darkened to a leaden gray as we finished our dinner outside on our patio. Within minutes the wind was gusting at fifty miles per hour. Our phones warned us to find shelter because tornadoes had been spotted in the area. Rain came crashing down on our roof. We were lucky. The storm blew over almost as quickly as it had come, but not far down the road it was a different story. Most of the community was left without power. Eighteen wheeler trucks had been blown on their sides. Trees were down and shingles from roofs littered the ground. The people were left with great damage and a terrible mess that needed cleaning up. They had been blasted by one of those waves of horrible luck that none of us ever want to face. By morning they were calmly doing what we all have to do in such circumstances, assessing the damage and planning the repairs. In other words, they bravely carried on.

It is in our natures to take on the blows of the outrageous fortunes that knock us off of our bearings. Somehow we find the courage to get back up and do our best to take charge again and again. We find silver linings even in the middle of storms. Whether it be losing possessions or people that we love, we bear our sorrows and eventually find our way back to seeing the best in our lives.

I have often thought about the tragic souls who were sent to the Nazi concentration camps. I can think of no more hellish situation than the one that they endured. They witnessed horrors that nobody should ever see. Many of them managed to stay alive and be freed only to find that their entire families had been murdered. It seems impossible that any of those people might have been able to go on to lead happy and productive lives, and yet most of them did. They managed to find a slice of normalcy and perhaps to celebrate the rising of the sun each morning in a way that none of us might ever understand. When all but your own beating heart has been stripped from you, maybe you develop a defiant courage and a realization of what is most important. Freedom becomes a treasure and you squeeze everything you can out of it.

At the beach there are also moments of low tide when the ocean is almost placid. It’s not nearly as much fun as when the waves are roaring, but there is a remedy for the lack of action. That is when you must make your own waves by kicking and stirring up the water with your hands. It takes a great deal of effort and energy to make things happen, but it can be done. So too are there moments when we somehow know that it is up to us to speak out in the name of all that is right and just. We can’t simply sit on the sidelines waiting.

My generation had a reputation for being trouble makers. We prefer to think that we were more like change makers. We spoke out against long accepted policies that had become the status quo. We had grown up in the shadow of segregation even while our minds told us that it was wrong. We watched our peers being sent to a questionable war and we began to ask why. We made waves and changes slowly began to take place.

We are in a new era with new problems. The wave makers are still at work and that is not a bad thing. It is from those willing to kick up a froth that we often realize the reforms that we must all make, and history is replete with individuals who were willing to take action. Galileo certainly whipped up a frenzy. Harriet Tubman risked her own safety and freedom. Today various people and groups also ask us to consider new ideas and ways of living. We don’t have to agree with them, but we should respect their courage in speaking out, for ours is a nation founded on the idea of providing everyone with the freedom to voice their concerns. It’s important that we protect that right with all of our might.

I’ve gotten myself into a bit of trouble now and again by standing up for my fellow workers or particular students. Some of my superiors have not appreciated my boldness, but others have seen my willingness to make waves as a sign of leadership. They understood that my goal was not to defy them, but to introduce them to slightly different points of view that needed to be heard. I did not always get their approval but I  usually won their respect.

The whistleblowers and protesters, editorialists and reformers are important to our progress as a nation. Any organization that does not have those who are willing to push back when things don’t seem quite right is doomed to failure. We need to hear all of the opposing philosophies. The day that we all walk in tandem and total agreement is the day that our way of life is on the verge of collapse. It’s up to each of us to know when it’s time to speak out and when we must kick as hard as we can to make waves.

Our Unique Selves

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

the-danger-of-uniqueness-1058x426People are fascinating to me, and I don’t just mean the rich, the famous or the accomplished. I am interested in the common everyday person like myself. I long to hear people’s stories. When I go to Walmart I’m not looking for crazies so that I might laugh. Instead I find myself wondering how each person got to this moment in time and what his/her past and future may be. I understand that some of the most compelling histories are found in the lives of the most ordinary people and that it is virtually impossible to judge a book by its cover.

I knew a woman who cleaned houses for a living. She rarely wore anything other than torn jeans and stained t-shirts. Her hair was long and stringy. She appeared to be little more than a good ole Pasadena gal, but upon further research I learned that she had an MBA from Harvard and a very successful business caring for homes in River Oaks.

I once had a student who appeared to be little more than an arrogant bad boy who drove his teachers to the brink of insanity. He befriended me and ultimately told me stories that made me cry when I was alone in my home. He had a single mom who struggled to keep the family from being homeless and wandering the streets. Life was as tough as it gets, and yet this young man found the time to attend church with a friend. The services provided him with solace in a world that was mostly cruel to him. He had been born again and wanted more than anything to be a good and Christlike person. He confessed to me about something that was bearing down on his conscience and desperately wanted to know what to do.

He and his mom and sister had been on the verge of being evicted. There was no food in the house. Things looked quite grim. They walked to a nearby Walmart to see what groceries they might afford with the few dollars that his mother had left. While they were perusing the aisles the boy’s mom noticed a cart with an expensive purse sitting in the child seat. The woman who owned the handbag was far away with her back turned as she searched for a particular product. Her bulging wallet was visible and just begging to be taken. My student’s parent grabbed the billfold and whispered for her children to follow her quickly away from the scene. When the coast was clear she opened the wallet to find over five hundred dollars inside. She immediately cried tears of joy and told her children that they would be able to keep their apartment and eat well on that day.

My student, her son, was conflicted. He knew his mother to be a good and honest woman but she was desperate. He also realized from his recent religious conversion that what his mom was doing was very wrong, and yet he remained guiltily silent. The theft bore down on his mind and he was not sure what he should do. His dilemma easily explained his surly behavior and the fact that he was unable to focus on his school work. It would have been easy to simply write him off, but in hearing his story I understood the depth of his morality and the pain that worrying about his mom had wrought.

People are always so much more than they seem, but we don’t often hear their entire stories. That is where my most passionate interest lies. I truly enjoy discovering the essence of the people that I meet and I suppose that I have always been that way. My mother used to chide me for staring at strangers. I certainly meant nothing by doing that. I simply wanted to know them better. I liked to read faces and body language. I desired to know why someone was angry for no apparent reason. I realized that we are who we are because of a totality of experiences.

I think that it would be quite wonderful just to sit across from someone and say, “Tell me all about your life. I want to know what it has been like for you.” I suspect that if I were to do so I would find out that almost everyone begins with similar hopes and dreams, but the serpentine nature of reality often sends him/her along routes that challenge and sometimes even defeat. Those people who seem ridiculously strange are more often than not just victims of situations over which they have lost control.

Fighting one’s way out of poverty or abusive situations is much more difficult than it may appear. The sad truth is that we are not all equal in terms of intelligence. I have encountered so many individuals with major learning disabilities who struggle mightily to learn. Others are afflicted with mental illnesses that stalk them so often that they are unable to create routines for working and achieving success. Then there are those with major health problems. The list of reasons why some people remain in a state of economic or psychological distress are quite real and often not of the individual’s making. As a society it is up to those of us fortunate enough to lead relatively stable lives to help those who are less able but we don’t always do that. We instead look the other way or poke fun at those who are different.

I’ve also known people who are far more remarkable than they are willing to let on. They tend to be quite humble individuals who rarely toot their own horns. Sometimes it is only when they have died that we really begin to know them through the eyes of the people whose lives they impacted. As stories of their generosity, contributions and talents are shared we realize that a saint or a rock star was hiding in plain site, but we had no idea because they would never have sought recognition for their incredible deeds. My cousin who passed away just before Thanksgiving was one of those souls. All of us were stunned to hear of the innumerable kindnesses to one person after another that he displayed all very quietly. We knew he was a good man, but never quite realized the extent of his largess.

Most people have a hobby of some sort, but mine is learning about others. I would love nothing better than to make appointments everyday to just listen to the folks with whom I have been acquainted and those that I have yet to meet. I can only imagine how many wonderful things I would learn. This world really turns from day to day not so much from the movers and shakers but from the millions of nameless individuals who rise with the sun and do their best to make the most of the cards that have been dealt them. It is in their stories that we find profound truth and maybe even inspiration. We need to hear from them because each person is a beautiful and unique gift to our world who deserves to be celebrated and understood.

Getting A Grip

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

gripFrom time to time my only female cousin comes to town and we literally talk until the cows come home. Both of us have grown children and grandchildren now and are retired from our jobs. We used to enjoy discussing politics and immersing ourselves in information and news that we shared with one another with great interest.  Of late we have decided to generally avoid all forms of political reporting and discourse. Mostly ignoring all of the rancor in Washington D.C. has been a welcome respite and one that we both agree will be our new habit. I suspect that we have many fellow travelers in that regard.

In her most recent visit my cousin revealed a whole new philosophy that has some merit. She noted that the two of us are growing older. Neither of us have any idea how many more years lie ahead for us. My mother died at age eighty four, but her mother, who is my mother’s sister, is still going strong at age ninety eight. Depending on which of the two our genetics favor we might still enjoy a good thirty more years or half of that. I suppose that neither of us can ever really know what is in store, but we can release ourselves from the constant stresses of worrying over the happenings in Washington D.C. 

My cousin pointed out that we have both had exceptionally good and productive lives. We worked at satisfying careers and had the privilege of parenting great kids who have in turn become incredible adults. Our time in the limelight is passing and leadership is changing hands. Our children and grandchildren are its future, not us. As such, she asks, shouldn’t we be asking them what kind of world they wish to have? She suggests that it isn’t up to us to foist our own wishes on them but to respect the ideas that they have developed. It is an interesting concept that might make a large difference in how we react to political trends.

My mother used to tell me that much as the Bible says, there is a time and a season for everything. I was once a mother but that is no longer my role. I have had to give my daughters wings and support them as they raise their own children. The way things are today is different from when I was guiding them. They must adapt to the changing times and I need to also be aware that parenting today may of necessity look very different from what it was like when I was a mom. So too it is with politics. The younger generations have different outlooks from ours which is pretty much the way things have been throughout history.

My very wise cousin has been through quite a few challenges. She has raised two sons as a single parent and battled a very rare form of breast cancer only to survive like a warrior. She believes that those of us in the AARP state of life will in all probability be just fine if we put our fates into the hands of the younger set. She argues that we raised them to have certain values and we should show confidence in their reasoning. I have to admit that I think that she is right.

I love the so called greatest generation of my parents but they have always had a tendency to be a bit bossy. Much like Queen Elizabeth they are loathe to relinquish power and control. I’ve often thought that many of the really older generation have never trusted those of us in the Baby Boomer group. It is up to us to break that cycle of domination and admit that we don’t always know everything and that sometimes a younger person is capable of better ideas.

I’ve been to a number of end of school year events of late and I am reminded again and again of how earnest and hard working most young folk today really are. They have hopes and dreams and desires that tend to be quite unselfish. They are prone to looking at the big picture and gazing into the future with positivity and hope. They genuinely want to save the planet and spread good will to all people. They have known less of racist thinking and phobias toward certain groups that my generation all too sadly witnessed firsthand. They possess boundless optimism and trust. At the same time they are far from being naive. I know them to be warm hearted and wise. I think that we must begin to listen to them and give their ideas more credence and less criticism.

My grandfather used to argue ferociously with my father over politics. The two of them would grow red in the face and their voices would rise to angry levels. By the time that I was old enough to talk about such things my grandfather would simply smile approvingly no matter what I uttered. He had learned to be far more accepting of differing points of view. He had his ideas and encouraged everyone else to have theirs. I suspect that his change came from years of experience and a growing knowledge that most people will cling tenaciously to their beliefs regardless of rebuttals.

It’s quite freeing to come to the conclusions that my cousin and I now embrace. I don’t feel a need to argue with anyone or to attempt to change minds. I find it interesting to hear whatever people have to say and rejoice that they care enough to have an opinion.  We may make mistakes and muddle through but in the end with each successive generation we always seem to find our balance and ultimately attempt to do what is right and just. I’m betting that the sons and daughters of me and my contemporaries will be more than up to the task, and that they in turn will be followed by their children who seem to have their heads on quite straight indeed. It’s good to feel so positive. Thank you, cousin, for the sage advice.

A Really Bad Day

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

7356295658_c810209e1d_bWhen my mother and I attempted to pay for our purchases the clerk at the register made it patently clear that she was irritated, even including an obvious eye roll as my mom fiddled inside her purse searching for the money that she was certain she had placed there before leaving the house. As the saleslady’s anger grew ever more palatable I suggested that we put the items on my credit card and worry about repayment later. Mama smiled at my ingeniousness and then noted that if we were going to do things that way she wanted to get another blouse that she had admired but had not brought enough cash to buy. Without even noticing how beet red the now furious cashier had become she dashed away and left me standing alone at the counter.

There were no other people waiting in line, and for a brief moment I considered lighting into the offensive woman who seemed intent on letting us know exactly how she was feeling without regard for the old saw that the customer is always right. Instead I casually began chatting her up. I thanked her for being so patient with my mother as though I had not noticed her obvious irritation. I explained that my niece was getting married in a few days and my mother was excited about walking down the aisle as her grandmother. I continued by noting that Mama had purchased an elegant suit several weeks earlier but it no longer fit because she had lost a great deal of weight. We had found out after a visit to the doctor that she had lung cancer that was very serious. Her clothes hung on her because the disease was ravaging her body. Without even taking a breath I mentioned that my mom also suffered from bipolar disorder and sometimes became quite confused. I ended my tale by once again commending the worker for being kind and noting that Mama loved her little outings to the store as well as being able to talk with other people.

By this time the woman’s eyes were filled with tears. She took my hands and quietly spoke of how she truly understood. She revealed that her own mother had died of cancer and she told me how much she missed those special times when the two of them had done things together. Her demeanor was now soft and loving and we shared a quick moment of kinship just before my mother came back with her blouse and a big smile. The saleslady was effusive in her new found kindness for Mama. She gave her coupons to bring down the final cost of her items. She wrapped the purchases in tissue paper and placed them in a special shopping bag. She ended the transaction by wishing my mother Godspeed.

As we walked to the car Mama commented on how sweet the clerk had been. She appeared not to have even noticed the dramatic change in her behavior. She collared a store manager who was standing near the exit and heaped effusive praise on the lady. The manager beamed with pride and promised my mom that he would surely make note of his employee’s exceptional customer service in her file.

We encounter so many people in our daily dealings. Not all of them are pleasant and when we find the surly ones it is usually tempting to read them the riot act. We make lots of assumptions about the individuals that we meet without ever really knowing them or allowing them to know us. It is often easier to respond to rudeness in kind rather than to attempt to diffuse the situation. There are indeed some individuals who are simply as mean as snakes and will never change, but in most cases displays of anger or irritation are not personal. Instead they are an indication of something brewing in the person’s life that is affecting the way they act. Time and again in both my private and professional dealings I have found myself in emotionally difficult situations in which I have somehow faced hostility for no apparent reason. When I take a deep breath and delve a bit deeper I almost always learn that the person screaming at me is shouldering incredible levels of stress and my encounter is only the last straw in a long series of difficulties. By putting myself in their shoes for a moment I have almost always been able to bring the tension down to a reasonable level.

As both a teacher and an administrator I more than once found myself listening to a parent who was ready to choke me. I generally allowed him/her to vent for a brief time and then countered the ugly comments by saying that I could tell by the powerful words how passionately the individual cared about the welfare of the child. I spoke to them as a parent who had now again found myself defending one of my girls. I noted that I was happy to know that we all cared very deeply for the student under discussion because that concern would translate itself into developing a useful plan for making the necessary changes for success. By ignoring the meanness and concentrating on our commonalities as people I was usually able to bring control to the situation and provide the parent with a satisfactory conclusion. I was not faking my understanding. I truly know that there are times when each of us comes undone by life’s events. At those moments we can only pray that the people with whom we interact will show us the concern that we need.

Whenever my mother was in a state of full blown mania she could be meaner than a junk yard dog. Her personality at such times was nothing like the almost angelic person that she really was. Her brain was out of balance, chemically causing her to behave in ways that even she did not like. Thank God she was generally surrounded by people who knew and loved her who ignored the rantings and ravings that spewed from her mouth. They would quietly call me to report that she wasn’t doing well and once I got her back on track with her medications she would return to the person who was adored by all of us who were lucky enough to bask in her unconditionally loving nature.

Of late we have seen a number of situations that went ridiculously out of control. People have been assaulted simply for delivering bad news. We’ve seen riots at airports and road rage that leads to murder. I would strongly suggest to everyone that we do our best to stay calm even in the most concerning circumstances. Someone has to maintain a cool head when times get tough or things will be said or done that are regretful. We should always attempt to understand the other person’s point of view before going off into a tirade of our own. Sometimes it is even best to just quietly step away when we realize that nothing that we do or say will quell the anger. Engaging in a war of words is never a solution. Demonstrating an attempt at making peace on the other hand will sometimes lead to a satisfactory resolution. Stay calm. Try to understand. Don’t take so many things personally. It may not be you who is having the really bad day.

Time To Clean House

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

song-sparrow-sing-58a6d9af5f9b58a3c91533bf

The words you speak become the house you live in. —Hafiz

I once knew a woman who was a downer. She reacted to virtually every situation with negativity. Chicken Little had nothing on her. According to the ideas she expressed the sky wasn’t just falling, it had already crashed to the ground and we were all in the midst of a great apocalypse. I ultimately reached a point at which I was no longer able to be around her. Just listening to her endless stream of complaining became like venturing into hell. It began to affect my own attitude so much so that I was suddenly imagining slights that really weren’t there. Her words literally transformed my feelings to such an extent that my happiness began to slip away. Even after I drew away from her it took a bit of time to recover, and I have often wondered what kind of disastrous effect her utterances were having on her children.

It’s difficult to find the refuge of silence in today’s world. There is chatter everywhere and it is not always of the healthy kind. There was a time when unkind or ugly words made one a social outcast, but there now seem to be no bounds that hold us back from saying anything that pops into our heads. We’ve got a late night television host who has strayed from joking about our president to uttering disgusting and controversial statements without much retribution. The same president who is the butt of those commentaries is well known and often applauded for his own repulsive insults. There is less and less of a tendency in our present society to hold people accountable for speaking in ways that were once deemed unacceptable. It has become a linguistic wild west that makes me cringe, because it demonstrates a lack of respect that should be insisted upon for each of us.

Certain language registers have traditionally been appropriate for specific times and places. We were all taught to be more formal at work or school, in church or during a public gathering. We reserve our most intimate words for our closest family members and friends, people in whom we trust. It is generally when we blur the lines between our casual speech and words that are more polite and carefully selected that we become misunderstood. Those who do not know us well may infer meanings that we did not intend, so we need to think before we speak. Sadly that is not as often the case as it used to be. Words are now bandied about without regard to their potential effect. The world now twitters and chirps like unthinking birds, creating a cacophonous noise that is having a negative effect on all of us. Somehow deep inside we sense that we need to make it stop but we just don’t know how.

My students who were being psychologically and verbally abused rarely reacted to the barrage of insults to which they were being subjected in a healthy manner. Instead they became withdrawn and angry. They sometimes ran away or, even worse, they began to emulate the behaviors that they witnessed on a daily basis. They evolved into bullies and fighters. They demonstrated a bravado that they hoped would disguise their own degradation and feelings of uselessness.

Our words are important. What we say to others not only affects them, but it also affects ourselves. We literally become the product of our thoughts and utterances, so we have to ask ourselves what kind of people we wish to be, and then act and speak accordingly. We can tell ourselves to make the best of our situations and to take control of our ways of reacting to the world, or we can become victims who continually complain. Free will is still very much ours.

I’d like to think that our present ways of talking so negatively with one another represent a phase that will soon pass. Somehow we find ourselves elevating individuals whose comments make us cringe over those who speak with gentleness and respect. We appear to prefer harsh words over those that are poetic and inspiring. I place my hope for the future in the knowledge that the speeches that we remember are uttered by good men and women who want to motivate us to be our best selves. We carve words from Abraham Lincoln or Martin Luther King into stone because they represent the kind of people that we all long to be.

Each of us has a voice. We have the power to be the change that we wish to see. We can turn off the noise with the flip of a switch. We can lead by example. It does not require us to take to the streets nor to become like those whom we abhor. It begins with our own words. We need to start by examining our own remarks and ridding them one by one of the kind of words that are hurtful to others. We can take back the power from people who would lead us with utterances that make us cringe. We do not need to be ugly to be strong. Let’s all focus on saying something nice. It’s time to clean house.