Category: Tolerance

Our Glorious Cause

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

colin-kaepernick-football-headshot-photoI’m a quiet person who doesn’t generally like to make waves. I prefer having a routine but enjoy an occasional adventure. I shy away from conflict but sometimes throw caution to the wind and take a stand. Like most people my days are mostly devoid of drama and I prefer it that way. In spite of my efforts to walk the middle road and keep the peace there have been times when I have felt compelled to speak my mind. Life has a way of placing us in situations that demand our attention whether we desire to become involved or not.

When I was nineteen years old my mother had the first of many psychotic breakdowns. I had never seen anything like her frightening behavior in all of my life. With no father and younger brothers still incapable of navigating the rough seas of caring for someone with a mental illness I was on my own. I still was not of legal age but I had to quickly learn how to make decisions on behalf of my mother and my family. The biggest mistake that I made on the first occasion of her illness was maintaining total respect for and deference to the doctor who treated my mom. I agreed to whatever he suggested even when my heart and soul told me that he was wrong. I had been raised to be polite and my gentle demeanor resulted in a series of decisions that I would always regret.

I’m a fast learner and when my mother’s next psychiatric episode occurred I was ready to take on the devil himself if need be. I was assertive with her new doctor and everyone else involved in her care. I became an outspoken advocate for her and her cause. My life and my personality changed forever. I finally understood that we may not wish to do so but sometimes we are forced to speak out for what we strongly believe is right and just. For each of us the causes that we embrace are highly personal, derived from life experiences that somehow made an indelible mark on our hearts. While others may believe that they understand our motivations the reality is that nobody else will ever completely know exactly how we feel.

I was judged for the way I handled my mother’s mental illness by people who had not walked in my shoes and who had turned away when I asked them to help me. Some people see me as a saint and others quietly whisper that I did more harm to my mom than good in the choices that I made. It is difficult for people to understand that even when I made mistakes or did things differently than they would have my motives were pure. My mother now rests with the angels in heaven but to this very day I speak of her life changing illness and the way I tried to help her without apology. I want the world to be aware of mental illness. I feel the need to open people’s eyes even when doing so makes them intensely uncomfortable. Honesty and a willingness to speak of the horror that my mother and my family endured is the only way that I may help to one day bring about a cure or at least a better way of dealing with this very real problem.

Mental illness is my cause along with education. These are the topics that I hold dear and I am thankful that I live in a time and place that allows me to voice my thoughts and opinions. My audience is small so my ideas are not nearly as impactful as I would like for them to be. I am one of many nameless faces in the world shouting in the wilderness. I would love to have a status so recognizable that my ideas would become news. Then perhaps my words might actually make a difference but for now I must be content with changing one mind at a time in a very tiny circle.

There are famous people with causes who have the power to move larger audiences. Glenn Close has become a beacon of hope for those of us who know the tragedy of mental illness. George Clooney is an outspoken advocate for human rights. Gary Sinise has devoted time and treasure to the Wounded Warrior Project. We usually applaud such efforts because they fall within the boundaries of our comfort zones. It is only when one of our heroes chooses to make us aware of something that we would rather ignore that we begin to make judgements about them that are not always fair.

Until recently I had no idea who Colin Kaepernick was. I don’t live in San Francisco and I don’t care that much about football. In all likelihood I would have gone my entire life without ever even hearing his name were it not for a moment when he chose to shine a light on something that bothers him as much as mental illness bothers me. His method for drawing attention to his cause was to remain seated during the playing of the national anthem. Some of those who witnessed his protest have gone ballistic in criticizing him both for that action and for the reasons that he has given for them.

The reality is that he has managed to do something remarkable. He has started a conversation about our rights as citizens of this country. Regardless of which side people espouse they are chattering away which is exactly what he hoped to accomplish. The problems that worried him are out in the open. He has shed a bright light on an uncomfortable topic and has done so with the possibility of damaging his reputation and his livelihood. That takes great courage, the kind that few of us, myself included, possess.

Mr. Kaepernick wants us to notice that a significant portion of our populace lives in fear of law enforcement. He wants us to understand that even a young black man raised by white parents is not immune to the forces of racism that still exist in some quarters of our country. He insists that in spite of education and success he and other black men and women endure the sting of hate simply because of the color of their skin. Whether we totally agree with him or not we have to admit that we have never walked in his world. We will never be able to know his reality. We must take him at his word and then begin to consider how we might begin to exchange honest dialogue about the situation that he has described.

Whether or not Colin Kaepernick stands for our national anthem is irrelevant. Our Constitution provides him with the right to rebel just as our forefathers did when they believed that they were living under a yoke of tyranny. Their actions were seemingly outrageous but they were cries for liberty. Theirs was a noble cause that sadly ended without assurances for a considerable portion of the citizenry. Over time we have slowly but surely attempted to correct their omissions. Traditions should never be so sacred that we allow them to stand when they are so obviously flawed. We had to outlaw slavery and give the vote to blacks and women. We had to find ways to include everyone in this great democratic experiment. Even to this day it is incumbent on all of us to correct the mistakes of the past. If so many who live among us are feeling so left out of our national pride then we need to take the time to hear them and to accept that they may know something that we don’t

I believe that we the people need to suspend our moral outrage each time someone alerts us to a festering problem. If King George had taken the time to listen to the protests of the colonists we might still be part of Great Britain. We need to stop the name calling and the madness. It does absolutely nothing to help in dealing with the issues. It is a diversion, a distraction that keeps us from hearing all sides of the discussions that we need to have. Perhaps what we really should do is simply listen to Mr. Kaepernick and celebrate that we are a country where freedom allows each of us to have an opinion. We have the opportunity to be part of the ongoing solution of mankind’s deepest problems. If we truly want to honor our country we will lower our voices and join in an effort to understand our disparate needs. It is our glorious cause.

A Saint For All Mankind

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Mother-Teresa-of-Calcutta-to-be-made-saint-VaticanThis Sunday there will be a new saint in the Catholic Church, St. Teresa of Calcutta, A.K.A. Mother Teresa. Pope Francis didn’t just choose her as he might a staff member. Instead her canonization followed strict guidelines that have long been used to decide just who deserves the honor. First someone nominates a candidate. A group of clerics examine all of the evidence pointing to saintliness. Once they are satisfied that the individual was indeed holy they send the nomination to the Pope who decides whether or not to beatify the person. Once two proven miracles have been attributed to the candidate the Pope announces that we have a new saint.

Almost everyone in the world is familiar with Mother Teresa, an Albanian nun who worked with the poorest most forgotten people in Calcutta. She witnessed intense suffering that at times tested her own faith in both mankind and God. She was far from a perfect person but somehow she found the resolve to rise each day, mask her darkness with a smile, and bring comfort to the sick and dying. For decades she toiled among the most shunned and desperate people imaginable, often wondering how they had been so abandoned by God. She prayed for the strength to believe and to continue her work.

So great were her works of mercy that after her death she was beatified quickly. Then a woman with incurable cancer asserted that she was healed after praying to Mother Teresa. A man from Brazil diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor also prayed to Mother Teresa and the tumor somehow miraculously evaporated. In both cases doctors were unable to explain why the people were cured. Mother Teresa was given credit for the miracles.

I’m excited about having this new saint with or without the so called miracles attributed to her. The life that she chose to live would have driven most of us to despair. It is doubtful that we would have been able to survive in the circumstances that defined her daily life. She was a courageous woman who ignored societal rules and considered the needs of her fellow men before her own. She was driven to provide succor for souls who would otherwise have lived in isolated neglect and misery. She was a tiny but mighty woman who loved even the unloveable. The fact that she was also so humanly imperfect only makes her more inspiring.

Who among us has not experienced moments when we questioned everything sacred? How many times have our lives been so difficult that we raged at God? I know that God has always been a part of my life but there have also been times when I felt betrayed by Him. I wondered how He could possibly test me more than I believed I was capable of enduring. Ultimately I knew that He had been with me all along but I often felt intensely guilty and inadequate for questioning Him. Having a bonafide saint who experienced the same confusion and doubt is glorious. She will be not just the patron saint of the sick and suffering but also of those who stumble and lose their way.

I believe that saints are for everyone, not just Catholics. It is not in their natures to only serve those who share their beliefs. Mother Teresa in life was there for anyone who needed her, so she will also be as a saint. She was a practical person less concerned about theology than being certain that her patients received the care that everyone deserves.

Mother Teresa had a profound respect for all lives, including the unborn. She was outspoken about what she saw as the horrors of abortion even when facing powerful politicians who disagreed with her. She believed that eliminating a fetus was akin to murder and even went so far as to proclaim that the profligate use of abortion as a method of birth control was destroying the human family. In spite of the suffering that she witnessed in the crowded and overpopulated streets where she worked she still thought that killing the unborn was an horrific crime which all of mankind should detest. She was unafraid to voice her concerns and held tightly to them throughout her life. Nonetheless she also warned us that when we are busy judging someone we cannot love them. 

Mother Teresa was hunched over from continuously bending down to care for the sick and dying. In many ways she is both an unlikely saint and one who will no doubt become a powerful spiritual example for those of us whose imperfections daunt us continually. Through her we learn how to overcome our weaknesses and how to stand for our principles no matter how controversial they may be. According to her letters and diary entries there were times when it took every ounce of her energy to carry on her work and in spite of those reluctant times she never gave up. What a powerful message that is to all of us.

Each of us have our causes, things for which we long. Perhaps a loved one is battling a life threatening disease or a friend is dealing with crippling depression and loneliness. St. Teresa of Calcutta will be our go-to gal. She is the one who will understand our pleas and hopefully provide us with the courage to withstand the challenges that dog us.

I suppose that many people today laugh at the oh so unscientific and irrational idea that someone who is no longer alive has any remaining power. Still, even someone who  does not believe in God can be inspired and guided by the example of St. Teresa. It doesn’t require faith or a particular religion to realize that we are at our best as humans when we take time to minister to those in need. We can all be just a bit saintlike. Nurses bring compassion to the sick. Teachers enlighten those hungering for knowledge. A fair and just businessman services the people in the community with integrity. An honest politician who seeks the good of mankind rather than power works for the betterment of all of us. A doctor who cures disease performs miracles everyday. Each of us are called upon in so many ways to demonstrate kindness and to perform corporal works of mercy.

I suppose that in many ways St. Teresa of Calcutta is a someone who while on this earth understood and exemplified the beatitudes so well. She fought continuously for the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek, the hungry and thirsty, the persecuted and above all she was a merciful peacemaker.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.     

As we face an uncertain world that harbors evil and hate I implore, “St. Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.”

Bad Moms

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

bad-moms-trailer-tease-03-160503_354f27e1f5010db26fc76e6faefdda9c.today-inline-largeI have many women friends who are highly accomplished professionals. They are lawyers, doctors, engineers, educators. They have risen through the ranks in their respective careers. They have made important decisions as part of their duties, sometimes involving life and death situations. They are unafraid of hard work and challenging problems. They stride through life with confidence. It is only when they have accepted the role of mother that they falter just a bit. To a woman they each admit that parenting is the hardest job that they have ever held.

The demands of being a mom begin with the first signs of pregnancy. A woman’s body begins to change to accommodate the life growing within. For me the first sign that something was happening was the most extreme heartburn that I have ever experienced. Not long after those first symptoms I was afflicted with morning sickness, a general feeling that I was going to puke my guts out. The sight of certain foods made me even more ill. My high level of energy seemed to become diminished with each passing week. I never strayed far from bathrooms because my bladder seemed to be continually full. Different body parts became sore and I slowly but surely grew to feel like a beached whale. My fingers and ankles swelled to three times their normal size and I developed a limp with my left leg because the baby was lying on a nerve. In spite of all of the aches in my body I was always delighted whenever I felt the flutters and kicks that told me that I was carrying a life inside my body.

I had my children when I was in my twenties. I was thin and wiry back then, a healthy woman who had no problems either carrying my babies or birthing them. So many women are not nearly as fortunate. They have to spend weeks immobilized by bed rest. They require the surgery of a Caesarian section rather than a more natural delivery. By the time that their children are born they themselves are in need of recovery time but instead they are thrown into the whirlwind of routines required to care for an infant. They must awaken for feedings even in the middle of the night. There is little rest. Even with help the tasks of mothering are often daunting in the first weeks and months of a newborn’s life. So many things can and sometimes do go wrong. The mother experiences a roller coaster of emotions, often caused by hormonal imbalances that render her unable to maintain control. It is the best of times and the worst of times.

Those early days when mother and child bond are forever etched in a mom’s memory. No matter how many years pass she always recalls the unmitigated happiness of holding her tiny baby. Those sleep deprived nights become beautiful moments. The chores that were at first exhausting evolve into a routine, her way of life. She begins to react to the demands of her children with love. It is what a mother does. She learns how to snatch a bit of rest here and there in between the caring and the teaching and the loving. She juggles hundreds of tasks in a single day but still worries that she may not be doing enough. Her children become the driving force of her life and even as they become more able to fend for themselves she thinks of them constantly and always will.

The years go by at breakneck speed. The first day of school comes all too soon. The child begins to slowly but surely push away to gain independence. All moms want this for their children but still feel twinges of regret that their roles and relationships are ever changing. They lie awake at night wondering if their actions are building strong and healthy children who will be able to navigate the world. They chastise themselves for the wrongs that they believe they have inflicted. They are their own worst critics.

It is little wonder that the summer comedy hit Bad Moms is resonating so well with mothers across the country. Entire theaters are filled with women laughing hysterically and relating to so many of the over the top jokes. I went to see the film last week with a group of twenty ladies of all different ages and each of us found moments in the movie that spoke to us. The truth is that we are often judged the most in our roles as moms. Society in all eras has inflicted its mores and customs on mothers, often resulting in making them feel inadequate to the task. The truth is that human beings cannot be perfect all of the time. None of us have the fortitude to be without flaws and somehow when we exhibit them in our parenting they are magnified.

Bad Moms points to our tendencies to compare ourselves to others and to standards that may actually make us feel uncomfortable. It also draws back the curtain on the realities that each of us struggles to overcome. Our children are not automatons. They are individuals just as are we. As mothers we have to understand when it is right to curb our ambitions both for them and for ourselves. We have to know when it is okay to pamper ourselves and when we must be available for our children. Raising children is a continual balancing act that requires wisdom and sacrifice but not a total surrender of ourselves.

When I was a young mother life was admittedly a bit simpler. I thought nothing of allowing my children to enjoy free range time around the neighborhood. Nobody was going to judge me for telling them to play outside on a hot summer day. I did not feel any pressure to entertain them or to enroll them in a never ending schedule of activities. I gave them swim lessons and took them to the park. They learned how to roller skate and ride bicycles. When they expressed an interest in dance I found a teacher for them. I purchased art materials and let them experiment. They ran around in their bare feet and often had dirt on their faces. If anyone was thinking ill of me for being lax they never mentioned it. My biggest concern was always that I might be spending too much time on my teaching job. I worried that my girls might think that I cared more for my students. All in all I felt comfortable that I was doing my best but it involved far less than the requirements that I see being placed on today’s young mothers. Bad Moms addressed the pressures that are now overwhelming so many women who are striving to give their children the best possible environment. Sometimes today’s mothers are losing themselves in the process.

Parenting is admittedly difficult. Those of us who agree to accept such a responsibility would do well to support one another rather than constantly critique. We all want our children to do well and that means that we should suspend our judgements and competitive spirits so that we might work together. We don’t all have to rise before dawn to run around the neighborhood track so that we might remain thin. Sometimes that extra hour of sleep does way more for our well being. Our meals don’t have to be ready for the Food Network. Sometimes microwaving some chicken nuggets gives us more time to sit and talk with our kids. If the house is strewn with toys and laundry we can make a game of quickly placing everything into neater piles. Our children do not need to have the latest phone or the most stylish shoes but they do need us. Moms have enough to worry about without including the insignificant in the agenda.

I am more proud of being a mother than anything else that I have ever done. I know without anyone telling me that I was as imperfect in that role as anyone who has come before or after me. I woke up each morning and did my very best. I had to learn how to forgive myself for all of the mistakes. My girls are now in their forties and I am still their mom. These days I have to remind myself that my new job is to support them as they raise their own children rather than to tell them how to do things. They are incredible mothers so I guess I did something right although I’m not sure that I should take full credit. The reality is that all of us are the product of our mothers, our fathers, our extended family members, our teachers, our churches, our entire histories. We are all in the game of life together. Bad Moms reminds us to focus on the things that truly make our families strong.

Empathy

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

comfortOne of my former students recently lamented what she saw as a lack of empathy in the world today. I have to admit that I have been fortunate to have encountered empathetic individuals over and over again. They have taught me how to forget myself and surrender to a state of pure understanding.

Just what is true empathy? The dictionary describes it as an awareness and acceptance of another’s feelings and emotions. In a sense it is the capacity to put oneself into another’s heart. Roman Krznaric, a founding member of The School of Life in London, has described some of the components of empathetic behavior in his book, Six Habits of Highly Empathetic People.

Dr. Krznaric notes that empathetic individuals are usually highly curious about strangers. They are genuinely interested in learning about other people, especially those who seem different from themselves. On my most recent vacation I continually found myself wondering about the men and women that I met along the way, particularly those who lived in tiny towns that appeared to have been forgotten by society. So many rural areas have little or nothing to offer their citizens. Life is a dreary prospect when the local economy is blighted. I saw so many abandoned businesses and factories that may have once provided hope but were now simply ghostly reminders of work that is now more and more difficult to find.

The people who lived in such places looked as though they were somehow trapped in a never ending cycle of want. They sat in front of broken down trailers or homes with littered yards, seemingly having nothing to do even in the middle of a work day. I imagined the dreariness of their lives. I felt that I understood why they might be attracted to the craven promises of politicians promising a way out of their situations. I also saw that they were proud people who would not want my pity. They held their heads high and stared straight at me in defiance.

They reminded me of a family to whom my grandmother had introduced me long ago, a group from the hills of Arkansas who lived in the most primitive conditions that I have ever seen. My grandmother cautioned me to suspend my judgement of them for they were hard working and kind according to her measure. I have never forgotten the way my grandma honored their humble hospitality and the treatment of respect that she insisted that we give them. I suspect that my first experience of empathy came at that moment.

Another empathetic habit is challenging prejudices and finding commonalities. I suspect that this is sometimes difficult for most of us because we rarely leave our own comfort zones. I grew up rather isolated from people who were different from myself. My mom taught at the local Catholic school so that my brothers and I might attend without paying tuition. Most of my classmates were middle class and many had well educated parents. While my family satisfied the government definition of poverty, my mom was adept at hiding that fact from us and the outside world. We fit in not realizing that we were imposters.

As a young woman in my twenties I began to encounter individuals who had experienced life in ways far different from my own. Their parents were classic blue collar types. They cleaned buildings for a living and drove dilapidated old cars. They often lived on the economic edge and had little interest in education. At first I felt as though I had landed on the moon when I met them but eventually I learned a great deal from them. They were not book smart but they had a common sense that made them quite intelligent in the ways of the streets. They were good people who showed me how to relax and enjoy the smaller victories in life. They were the kind of individuals who would not have thought twice about running into a burning building to rescue a puppy. I liked them very much and grew to respect them enormously. I found that in many ways I had more in common with them than with my college educated friends.

Empathy often comes from trying another person’s life. When I was in high school one of my teachers called that walking in someone’s shoes. He urged us to consider others’ circumstances before making judgements. Over time I have been in so many different situations and some of them have been quite dire. There were times when my mother was very ill that I felt abandoned by all of society. I understand what it is like to be responsible for someone and to have every door shut in my face. Along the way I always managed to find kind souls in the most unexpected places, people who held out their hands to help me when I was the most desperate. I learned to share my story and admit to my weaknesses. I realized that none of us are ever able to be all alone. We must sometimes be willing to accept the kindnesses of strangers.

Learning to be empathetic is not that difficult as long as we are ready to just listen. Often all a suffering individual needs is a friendly ear. At those times we don’t even have to actively find solutions to their problems. They only wish us to understand. When action is demanded we should be ready to go the extra mile for them like my long time neighbor and friend, Betty, has always done. It was well known on our little street that her door was open 24/7. Sometimes we didn’t even have to knock if we had a problem. She would see us heading for her door and meet us there, inviting us inside for a cool drink, a bit of dessert and a whole lot of loving wisdom. I suspect that over time Betty has helped countless people with her folksy intuition. I can’t remember a single time that I left her presence without feeling as though I had just conferred with an oracle of Delphi. To this day she is willing to drop everything to make a weary soul feel whole again. She has mastered the art of empathy just by being totally there for whomever seeks an audience.

When we focus on the lives of others rather than our own we are well on our way to becoming empathetic. I have been fortunate to meet many such people and my hope is that my former student will be lucky enough to enjoy such encounters. It is an amazing experience to realize that somebody has looked into your heart and truly understands and loves everything that they see. Each of us has the capacity to be that kind of person. We just have to begin the process by taking one step at a time and risking a suspension of judgement. It is not really that difficult to be empathetic once you get the hang of it and the rewards for being so are immeasurable.

Easy Does It

Published on by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

toleranceI’ve only felt total revulsion for a handful of people in my lifetime. One was a boyfriend that my mother had who was a real true blue racist and emotional abuser. Listening to him spout his political views made my skin crawl. Even worse was the power that he seemed to have over my mom. She eventually rid herself of him but not without a great deal of trauma. Around the same time I also abhorred President Richard Nixon. I sensed that he was a crook long before the rest of the world caught up to my thinking. I suppose that there are moments in everyone’s life when they find themselves in the role of a hater. It was an uncomfortable feeling for me because I generally attempt to find redeeming qualities in virtually every soul that I meet. For some reason those two were so vile that I was unable to open my heart to them.

In spite of my own experience of falling victim to hateful ways I still believe that the vast majority of people worldwide try very hard to be good. For the most part the haters are outliers and yet when we are victimized by them we tend to generalize their evilness to entire populations. The young man who shot up the church in Charleston was a white power deviant who represented only himself and a small group of people who lean to the far right. He in no way was typical of the average white person. The black man who shot five police officers in Dallas had his own set of problems none of which reflect the hearts and minds of African Americans in general. The list goes on and on. Muslims who kill party goers in San Bernadino are actually quite different from the majority of peaceful Muslims who live in our country. The shooter of school children in Connecticut was not a typical gun owner. Criminals and rapists come in all forms. To assert that they are mostly confined to a particular ethnicity is faulty thinking designed to rile unhealthy emotions. Of late so many of our politicians seem intent on making sweeping generalizations designed mainly to feather their own nests rather than to solve our real problems. The divisiveness that they are spreading does little good for any of us and leads to a choosing of sides that has no room for compromise.

We sadly play along with this ridiculousness all too often. If we decide that we don’t like some of President George W. Bush’s actions, we refuse to give him credit for doing anything right. He becomes a caricature that we only view as a lying idiot. If we have problems with President Obama we never allow ourselves to congratulate him even when he in fact does something remarkable. We only note his flaws and mistakes. We assert that haters are going to hate but never put ourselves in that category. We complain that our presidential candidates are ethically challenged but rarely mention our own making our country like the most dysfunctional of families. Perhaps it’s time for each of us to reflect a bit to determine if we are unfairly judging individuals or entire groups. If the recent spate of violent events has proven anything it is that we have problems that will require us to work together and yet we generally continue to carp back and forth. It is long past time for each of us to admit that all humans, including ourselves, are imperfect but rarely all bad. We should save the hatefulness that we dredge up so readily and so often for those who are truly evil.

I recently saw a video on Facebook of rival protestors who took the time to talk with each other and find common ground in the midst of what might have been a heated encounter. They broke through their own preconceived notions and by the end of their discussion they realized that they actually wanted the same things. Instead of being distracted by anger and division they realized that they would be more powerful by joining forces. It was a beautiful sight to see them linking arms and hugging one another. It’s something that I believe we need to try more often because the anger that seems so rampant surely isn’t helping anyone.

The Black Lives Matter group has brought our attention to the concerns that so many of our African American brothers and sisters have. The statistics show that they are far more likely to be stopped by police officers than any other group, often for little or no reason. For a perfectly honest, hard working black man to be killed over a broken tail light is absurd and yet such tragedies do occur. Unless the Black community raises awareness of such injustices we may never truly understand what life is like for people of color. Sadly some of the recent unnecessary killings of innocents or those whose infractions were minor have placed a spotlight on a dirty little secret that most of us never have to endure.

I often invite my former students to visit my home. I should not have to worry about whether those of minority status will be stopped by the police as they travel in my neighborhood but I always do. I warn them to stay within the 30 mile per hour speed limit that is strictly enforced by local law enforcement officers and pray that if for some reason they are targeted they will remain calm and not exacerbate the situation. I can only imagine how their parents feel whenever they go out into the world if I am so nervous for them.

On the other hand, the vast majority of law enforcement officers take grave risks on a daily basis just to keep us from harm. I cannot even imagine how much courage it must take to run into a dangerous situation when the rest of us are fleeing from it. We cannot generalize bad motives to all of them. Instead we need to work to ensure that criminal justice reforms enhance their jobs while extending fairness to all people. Perhaps we need to rethink how best to use their services. It may be time to relieve them from having to worry so much about broken tail lights or past due license tags.

Whenever we find ourselves leaning toward group think we should pause to assess the situation and our own prejudices. It is never healthy to jump to conclusions or accept statements based solely on appearances or alliances. We can’t fall into that kind of trap regardless of how we believe that our problems should be solved.

I remember a time when I took a group of honor students from South Houston Intermediate to Moody Gardens in Galveston. They were exceptionally well behaved and I was quite proud of them especially in comparison to a more middle class set of students who were also there. I was stunned when the employees continuously yelled at my kids for no apparent reason. It was as though they believed that my pupils were bound to create problems simply because of the way they looked. Like me, my principal eventually became so fed up with the workers’ negative attitudes that he reported them to their supervisors. I have never quite gotten over my embarrassment and outrage over the totally unfair treatment that traumatized all of our group. Since my kids were both well behaved and polite the only explanation for what happened was that they were being targeted because of their brown skin.

If anything positive is to come of the horrific days that we have been experiencing it should be a willingness to embrace all good people, which we know is the great majority. It’s time for us to be honest with one another and quit reverting to soundbites, absurdities, propaganda, and stereotyping. We have to consider that most Republicans may actually be nice and that the majority of Democrats have the best of intentions. It’s important for us to dialogue rather than revolt, show tolerance rather than prejudice. If those who would be our leaders can’t seem to work together without casting generalized aspersions on all members of the other side then we citizens need to take the lead. It is important that we not allow ourselves to fall victim to hyperbole regardless from whence it comes. We need to be the kind of people who cross over the lines that divide us to embrace our fellow human beings. We know its the right thing to do.