this is raw, and probably going to convey both my ignorance and the ugly places in my heart. but I’m going to share it – in case anyone wants to have a dialogue. I welcome your reasoned feedback, because I am still trying to learn.
my dad had one brother. their father came home from the service and later died in a mental institution. his brother died of alcohol related illness. their step dad was an alcoholic. i’m told a neighbor took him under his wing, so to speak.
my dad was a marine in world war II. he saw the plumes from the bombs in japan. he came home and tried to make a living – he had pretty much sent all his military pay to his mom, expecting there to be something for college when he got back. sorry…
he sold farm supplies. i’m told a kind man he met along the way told him he was smart and should go to college. he asked an uncle for help – who said…NO
maybe a GI bill helped, I’m not sure.
my dad CHOSE – not to be an alcoholic.
my mom taught school – and loved more kids than you can count.
they CHOSE to love each other, they CHOSE to be kind, and they told us if we couldn’t say something nice, or constructive, to CHOOSE to not say anything at all.. and they told us we had to figure out a way to get along, as we were going to be ‘family’ for a long time…i suspect this constitutes ‘my privilege’
they CHOSE for us to work, and we chose to obey. when our hands were only big enough to carry one chicken, or 6 ears of corn, that’s how many we carried. we were allowed to work, just like the men did, but in kid-size ways. the house chores belonged to the kids. so did the run of the farm. they shared the natural abundance of running room, and the meager abundance of finance with neighbors in the country, and from the city. UNDENIABLY…this was a privilege.
my dad stuffed mailboxes – with 50$ here, or a day’s work there – for someone in need.
my mom, in all her free time, when she wasn’t canning or preserving or sewing to make ends meet, chose to champion programs at school that would provide educational, and recreational opportunities for everyone. she is still training leaders. I got to go along…i suspect this constitutes ‘my privilege’
when farming wasn’t enough, my dad got another job. and when he suspected his UPS truck carried drugs – he reported it, even though he could have lost his job, so one more kid wouldn’t be ruined.
i studied…and went to college…and applied for financial aid…and got a job. i dished spinach in the dining hall, and became friends with the rest of the crew. i, too, by some divine mercy CHOSE not to be an alcoholic
i married a man who thinks his job is a gift from God. every day since 1986 – he has chosen to get up at 5 AM, go to work, and give his employer and his family, the best of what he’s got. He feels privileged to play a stewardship role for the environment.
He chooses to pay his taxes. so do my brother, and my 2 sisters, and my brother and sister in laws. and their taxes help pay for roads, and schools, and healthcare, and food. and they hope the government will be smart about how they spend that money.
my younger sister takes care of people in need – like with depression and stuff like that. she saves their jobs, and cares for their families. She’s a CPA – go figure…i suspect she thinks that is part of her ‘privilege.’ she is also funny an plays the piano like a warrior angel – just in case the world needs a little more beauty.
my other sister manages little kid sports, and scout programs, and volunteers with habitat for humanity – in her free time. at work she handles all the finances for second language school programs and assists harried moms and teachers.
my brother supports disabled adults employment, and fundraises for MS. At work he fixes machines and problems, and takes care of his team – advocating for their health benefits. he takes wounded vets hunting, and listens to their stories. if he saw you on the street, and you were hurting, he’d pick you up. i suspect he considers that…his privilege.
my dad had white skin…he was never a slave…i suppose you can guess the rest. He made a CHOICE
Question to ponder:
what color is a neighbor ?
what if I started with the title, privilege…and choice? Would it read differently to you? It does to me. How does that help, or hinder the thought process?