Sunday, October 30, 2011

On courageous conversations

Last week I attended an education session on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultural awareness. The intent was to help health professionals engage better with this subset of the Australian population, and as such “close the gap” between the health of non-indigenous and indigenous peoples (who fair terribly worse in morbidity and mortality). The session was run by a man who identified himself as an aboriginal man and he explained various aspects of what is culture from a psychosocial and semantic perspective. It was interesting and he spoke of a thing called “courageous conversations” – you know, all those touchy subjects on elements of our society which if we comment on we’ll be called racist or bigoted or misogynist or otherwise prejudiced. Racism and the history of Australia (or the U.S.A or South Africa or so many other nations) is one of those touchy subjects. So we all listened to the discussion he presented and he played Professor Michael McDaniel’sreconciliation speech and made passing reference to Kevin Rudd’s “Sorry”speech. The things spoken by these two men are along the same vein, but stated quite differently.

On the 13th of February, 2008, Kevin Rudd, the then Prime Minister of Australia gave a speech to acknowledge the past evils that had been afflicted systematically on the indigenous peoples of this nation. The other purpose of the speech was to apologize to aboriginal peoples of past, present, and future who had been (or will be) disadvantaged or hurt as a consequence of the shameful government policies that existed to purposely suppress aboriginal peoples. The speech was symbolic and groundbreaking, intent on paving the way to improving things in future and learning from past mistakes. This very loud gesture was meant to benefit not only the Australian indigenous people who for decades had had their history and rights suppressed, but also of benefit non-indigenous peoples by empowering them with knowledge and freeing them from the guilt of knowing that their ancestors had done something wrong but they now had the chance to right their wrongs. It was by all accounts a very admirable gesture by the leader of a nation.

Professor Michael McDaniel, an aboriginal man who is also Dean of Indigenous education at the University of Western Sydney, also gave a speech related to the reconciliation process that was occurring in Australia. He told one story of a non-indigenous solicitor who met some elders of an indigenous community and tried to tell them that he was aware of the unfairness and mistreatment indigenous peoples had suffered and he had a plan to propose some “reconciliation”, in this case something akin to acknowledging the land rights of the indigenous first occupants of that land. The aboriginal elders when he had finished his courteous and respectful talk, retold him the history of the Aboriginal people. They told him how his ancestors had raped, stolen, killed, desecrated, abused, and hurt their people in previous generations and how the current generation of their people is still suffering because of his people. The young solicitor was taken aback, surprised, and feeling blamed! What do you say to that? You say sorry. And when you say sorry the better man forgives, right? Right. That’s what we do in our culture, but not everyone’s culture is apparently the same in this respect.

Now, I have varying notions of what a sense of responsibility is, but for a while you have to consider yourself in the young solicitor’s shoes also. Prof. McDaniel explains that to the elders they were simply telling their story in their way, that they needed to do this, to vent, if you will. And at that second when the elders meet this young successful non-indigenous man, “For that moment you are Captain Cook. You are Arthur Phillip. You are the Mission Manager. You are the representative of everyone who did those things”. But you may wonder, why should he be designated the “representative of everyone who did these things”? The logic goes that it is because it is as an acknowledgement that the system and society we currently live in was built to ensure the success, exactly as he has, of a non-indigenous person like him and not of an indigenous person like the elders. So is he at fault because he is successful? Prof. McDaniel doesn’t state it quite like this, but he states that the systems that exist are at fault, they’re the “bad” ones. And yet in the middle of all this is a young man trying to do the right thing given what he has. Prof. McDaniel states he just has to “cop it, because it’s part of the healing process”. I know, I was outraged at his logic too. But you know what? Apparently it's hard for us to understand, he says, because (and I am paraphrasing here) ‘as a young non-Indigenous person, we’ve never had a sense of belonging to a society. We’ve never had “a collective sense of responsibility”’.

Honestly, I liked Kevin Rudd’s speech better. I liked it better for two reasons. As a Christian I always remember that scripture in Ezekiel 18:20 that says, “The one who sins is the one who will die. The child will not share the guilt of the parent, nor will the parent share the guilt of the child. The righteousness of the righteous will be credited to them, and the wickedness of the wicked will be charged against them”. Acknowledging our ancestors sins is one thing, we can even apologize for them and regret it on their behalf, but as for being “punished” or held accountable for it, I believe is a bit rich. My second reason can be summarised in this quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupery: “To be a man is to be responsible. It is to feel shame at the sight of what seems to be unmerited misery. It is to take pride in a victory won by one's comrades. It is to feel, when setting one's stone, that one is contributing to the building of the world”. Guilt is a useless thing unless it motivates forward action. It is honourable to take responsibility for righting wrongs even if they weren’t committed by us. It is not honourable to use punishment unless your aim is for retraining. If your camel is already walking to where you want it to go, it is only cruel to continue to beat it.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

On being in love (...and being too good)

In 'By the River Piedra I sat Down and Wept' Paulo Coelho tells the story of a boy and a girl who grow up together, get to form a very close bond, but then grow up to have separate lives. The girl goes off to the city and studies at the university. Meantime, she learns of life by working whatever jobs young college students do, and she meets a lot of people who teach her about travel, love, sex, philosophy, etc. She becomes what you could call a very ‘worldly’ woman; a modern educated woman with no theological or philosophical constraint to limit any of her experiences. The boy grows up very differently. He enters a seminary and becomes a spiritual guru of sorts. He is respected and generally considered a very holy man. The boy and girl meet up again as man and woman and what was once an almost fraternal relationship becomes a romantic one. The girl feels inadequate because the boy’s profession requires that he travel, that he dedicate his “free” time to meditation, study, and consideration of deeper greater things, not the mundane things like being a partner in a romantic relationship. He doesn’t tell her this, but she knows it. She wouldn’t ask him either to give up his “gift”, his vocation and talent just to be her husband, boyfriend, lover, or whatever when he could be inspiration, intervention, guidance, and illumination to so many other human beings who need him too. And not to mention the fact that you may consider her a worldly, maybe even ungodly woman, and you may consider him a man truly of God.

One of the most horrible things a man has ever said to me was “you remind me of Jesus”. Now, I’m a Christian and I try to live my life as best I can so you may ask why would that be offensive to me and not a compliment? Because no-one has ever desired Jesus; no-one has ever desired to marry him, to make love to him, to kiss him softly and romantically on the cheek. Of course not. So many of us admire him, worship him, and love him with a firm spiritual belief. But you don’t fall in love with Jesus. No-one ever fell in love with me! And so this man telling me this was such an eye-opener for me; a cold glass of water across my face. Sure we all want to be good at something, but more than anything don’t we all just want to be loved? I think we do. I do.

The other very hurtful thing said to me, and it has been said to me on far too many occasions, was that I’m “too good”. Again, you could say ‘but that’s not an insult!’ No, it isn’t, but try having it said to you time and time again that “you’re too good for me”. Too good; not just good or good enough, but “too good”. Too good for this person to be with you, to love you, to take the risks we all do in love; “too good” for them to even try. There are a lot of people out there with self-esteem issues, and yet this isn’t distinctly the reason why people were telling me that I was “too good” for them. No. It had simply become the new catchphrase like ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, which was a very sensitive way to simply end a relationship you didn’t want but that exonerated you from being the “bad guy” who broke the other person’s heart. So you tell a sweet, sensitive lie like “it’s not you, it’s me” or “you’re too good for me” or “you deserve so much better than me”. Suddenly you’re the hero who is making a sacrifice for this much “better” person. Gee, they should be grateful you’ve broken their heart!  And they would be, if only we didn’t all know that these very nice reasons are just words. I must admit, I personally have used the ‘you deserve better than me’ or ‘you’re too good’ spiels too when I didn’t want to feel bad about ending a relationship I wasn’t dedicated to.

You know what happened to me one day, though? I actually did meet someone I felt was too good for me. And you know what I did? Two things: 1) I became selfish, and 2) I fell in love. Anything is worth it when you’re in love. Mark Twain tells of how when he met his future wife he was a drunkard, poor and indebted gambler. The woman he fell in love with came from a wealthy and educated family. She was too good for him, clearly! But you know what he wrote? “I wouldn't have a girl I was worthy of. She wouldn't do. She wouldn't be respectable enough." He was quite aware of his circumstance and he knew he was being selfish in trying to convince the girl’s father that, yes, he’d most likely ruin his daughter’s reputation, but that he would love her and be with her until the end of their days. Some things are just worth it. Love is worth just about everything, even selfishness. And yet in telling this story I came to understand why it had hurt me so much when people had told me I was “too good” for them. I realised that when I thought that one person was actually too good for me, because I loved them, I wanted to become a better person for them.  So I came to realise that when people had told me I was “too good”, it had hurt me because I knew they were also saying that I wasn’t worth the effort.

Is it selfish to keep on after those one we feel are “too good” for us? Maybe. But it is extremely weak also to give up because you lack something, even if in the end it is purely self-esteem. When you’re truly in love, there is no room for comparisons or measure of a person’s “goodness” or anything else. When you’re truly in love, you want a particular person regardless of who they are, how spiritual or wealthy or educated or healthy or intellectual or adventurous - or anything - they are, or how deficient of these things you personally feel. There are some things that are truly worth the effort in this life. Love, to me, is worth just about everything.