Author: BethReflects

In some ways it is hard to believe, but Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is once again upon us. And so, as has become my compulsion for several years, I sat down to reflect on and to honor the meaning of the day. The last few years, my “offerings” have been more personal- sharing with you the lessons from my beautiful Grandpa and Grandma Wood, who have both passed away. This year, I think you’ll find something a little more political, a little more “loud” (and a little more long-winded). This year I find myself angry and maybe a little disillusioned . And so I spent time reflecting on those feelings, and ultimately, writing a letter to myself- to push me along in my own journey to become my potential.

So I share this letter to myself in hopes that it might speak to you in small way as well and with the wish that this Martin Luther King Day is not just another day, but another day in the country’s journey to become its promise.

I have to start with what stands out to me as one of the most important issues today: the need to focus on the realities of racism and poverty and ageism in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. To be sure the reality of those who were left behind in New Orleans was devastating; and there is also only a thin thread of support for the people who were able to escape the temporary threat of the storm but still face the long-term threat of poverty, racism, ineffectual services, and waning public interest. I wonder what will actually be learned from what we (those who were not directly impacted) witnessed? I imagine that in the Gulf Coast, the pain and circumstances are still front and center as people continue to be impacted every day; however, I wonder if the rest of the country has already forgotten that they stood in horror in front of the television just a few months ago. Has Hurricane Katrina’s impact become a highlight in the “end of the year reel” or is there more? What can be the long-lasting impact of poverty laid bare? What can be our understanding of the link between racism and classism, classism and ageism? This day is an excellent day to commit to lasting conversation and action against poverty, against racism, and to claim ALL people in the United States as our family.

In 1968, Martin Luther King wrote: “Our moral values and our spiritual confidence sink, even as our materials wealth ascends. In these trying circumstances, the black revolution is more than a struggle for the rights of Negroes. It is forcing America to face all its interrelated flaws- racism, poverty, militarism and materialism. It is exposing evils that are rooted deeply in the whole structure of our society. It reveals systemic rather than superficial flaws and suggests that radical reconstruction of society itself is the real issue to be faced.”

This text from his essay “A Testament of Hope” (which was printed after his death) is profoundly, sadly, disturbingly relevant 38 years later. I can’t help but wonder … are the words relevant because the system is unchangeable or because people are unwilling to change the system? Do his word still ring with truth because the flaws of which he speaks are natural parts of society or because it is not our nature to fight against the status quo? Do his words repeat themselves because that is history’s fate or history’s failure? Are we really destined to remain unchanged, unable to challenge systems in profound ways?

The thoughts cross my mind and trouble me, however, despite my frustration and disappointment, I cannot believe that our fate is sealed, that we do not have the power to make permanent change. Indeed, while many of the systems of which King wrote do remain intact, there have been other changes to the system, other advances that must continue…that will continue if we are not passive. And by “we” I mean everyone in the U.S., but especially everyone who has gained privilege, because of their skin color, gender, sexual orientation, religion, socio-economic status, and ability, from the system and structure of our society.

I want to reflect further on the beginning of his statement “our moral values and our spiritual confidence sink, even as our materials wealth ascends.” There has been a lot of talk in the media/popular culture about the “loss of moral values” in our country today. I want to be clear that King’s words should not be taken out of context and thought to echo the cries of moral decline so prevalent today (sentiments used to attack the GLBT community, immigrants, and others). King is referring to the country’s loss of morality in allowing racism to exist, to what he believed to be an immoral war, to the immorality of the existence of hunger and poverty in a land of riches. Equality and equity are moral imperatives. The end of discrimination is moral work.

And so it is a moral imperative (especially as citizens of the U.S.) that we fight for these values both here and around the world. It is a moral failure that genocide in Darfur continues to go on without true intervention. Since February 2003, over 400,000 men, women and children have died while another 2.5 million innocent civilians have been forced to flee their homes. The United States has tremendous power to make change and save lives in Sudan. However, as has been the case in throughout our history, we have not done enough and have not led with responsibility. How long will we allow this to continue?

Last year the movie Hotel Rwanda came out and many people went to see it; many people, including myself, learned about horrors they had not paid enough attention to. But like the images of Hurricane Katrina, how many of us cried, shook our heads, and then went on with our lives while a similar situation raged in Darfur?

This past summer, I had the opportunity to visit the Shoah Foundation which has painstakingly chronicled testimony of survivors of the Holocaust. This wealth of important testimony and voices has been collected to teach, to remind, and to change. I so commend the Shoah Foundation’s work, however, as we sat in the building learning about their work I felt a wave of sadness and dismay come over me. The Foundation staff member explained that as they were almost finished with cataloguing the Holocaust Survivor testimonies, they were beginning to explore compiling testimony from other genocides, such as Rwanda. And sitting there, I got this image of the endless work of compiling tapes- survivor stories from one genocide after another, on and on…. When would it stop? When would the world intervene before testimony was necessary, before the “surviving.” And the cynical part of me imagines a time ten years from now when a movie about Darfur hits the big screen, and once again we are moved and saddened as part of our “entertainment” for a Sunday afternoon. We truly have not learned yet.

I do not mean to be pessimistic or flippant, I am simply troubled and trying to unravel my own feelings, my own reflections, my own internal angst. Because I know that I am part of the problem- I am not indicting others so much as myself.

And I’ve only really spoken to “large level” issues- easy to see (even if we choose not to look). What may be even harder to confront are those subtle ways that we consume racism, sexism, classism, and more everyday. For example, much was made about the language choice used in the covering of Katrina: looting vs. finding. But there are so many other ways that we breed prejudice and discrimination in our language, in our media, in our everyday life.

For example, researchers at the University of Chicago (Marianne Bertrand) and Harvard University (Sendhil Mullainathan) found in a 2003 study that there was widespread discrimination in the workplace against job applicants whose names were merely perceived as “sounding black.” These applicants were 50% less likely than candidates perceived as having “white-sounding names” to receive callbacks for interviews, no matter their level of previous experience. Discrimination based on names on a resume- that’s all-something so easily missed or dismissed or explained away. Yet the impact is very real. And, I know that if asked, the people screening those resumes would say “I’m not racist” or “I don’t discriminate.” Racism so ingrained and unconscious that we don’t see when we are perpetrators. And that is just one example of so many ways prejudice is “rooted deeply in the whole structure of our society.”

This moral work is hard work. It is hard to unravel the ways we collude and we participate and we build the “systematic flaws” of our country.

Do I sound preachy or strident? That is certainly not my intent. But as I‘ve admit, I feel angry this year, I feel discouraged in my reflection. And so, as I said at the beginning, this is a letter to myself as much as anyone else. This a letter to remember that I have a moral responsibility to do, to act. I have a responsibility to remember that the flawed system is made up of people, of me. I have a responsibility to remember that everyday I have a choice (a choice not shared by those without my skin, sexual orientation, or socioeconomic privilege) whether to do something or to be complacent. I must make the choice everyday not to sigh, or simply shake my head, or state my outrage without action.

So this Martin Luther King Day my message is action, big or small, but always action. The humility to know when I have fallen behind and the resolve to continue. Action.

This year, as I am stop to reflect upon Martin Luther King, Jr. Day I am feeling a bit disjointed in my thoughts. I just returned from visiting my grandmother in the hospital. As I write this she is in surgery. Her poor body is failing her in so many ways and it was heartbreaking to see her feeling so poorly. Yet, as I sat with her each day in the hospital, I was struck by how her kind spirit continued to thrive despite her pain, frailty and, at times, delirium. Whenever a nurse, assistant or doctor came in to check something, speak with her, take her blood pressure, etc. she thanked them. Every time. I cannot even describe how someone who is in such pain, has every reason to complain or be angry could continue to be kind, thoughtful, and generous of spirit. I have always learned so much from my grandmother and continue to learn from her in this difficult time. I’m a little too close to everything right now to really understand everything I am feeling, but I think I will always be learning from the lessons of her grace.

My grandmother’s spirit reminds me of King’s teachings about love’s power: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction….The chain reaction of evil–hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars–must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.” Strength To Love, 1963.

And so, I’m approaching this Martin Luther King, Jr. Day with a sad heart, not only for my grandmother but for the many tragedies and difficulties which the world is facing now. I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to say or how to put in words how I feel about the genocide in Sudan, the war in Iraq, the many ways people’s liberty and freedom are being denied, and the angst I feel about the political climate in this country.

And I just can’t put my feelings down in words. Every year I try to mark this day in some way, and this year I will let my grandmother’s incredible spirit and Martin Luther King’s insightful prose serve that purpose.

Martin Luther King Day reminds me to draw strength from history for today’s civil and human rights struggles…reminds me to learn from their actions to act today…reminds me to continue to learn from all those around me. Thank you for what I learn from each of you. My sincere hope is that you also will mark this day in some meaningful way and live its spirit throughout the year.

Love, Beth

Everyday Heroes

My Grandpa Wood was good in the most basic, fullest, roundest sense of the word.  Do not misunderstand, he was not perfect or without fault; he was GOOD.  He passed away last July; we lost another member what Tom Brokaw has dubbed “The Greatest Generation.”   He is remembered as a hero because he served and fought for his country in World War II, and he is a hero.

But not only because of his service in the war.  My grandfather is also a hero because of who he was his entire life.  He was kind words, courtesy, respect, and a big smile for everyone (this, I remember most about him).  Grandpa was the small, everyday moments that impact people’s lives.  Heroes exist because of their courage in unimaginable circumstances. Heroes also exist because of their actions in everyday life.

I don’t remember ever discussing civil rights, equality or racism with my grandfather (or that part of the extended family) – it might seem odd, especially given my vocation- yet, without ever verbalizing it, I know that he is one of the people from whom I learned the inalienable worth of all people.

Sometimes I feel that the Civil Rights Movement was BIG- in its aims and its action. But that’s because I’m looking back on the Movement, seeing it quantified and packaged into history books.  If I examine more closely, I see the Movement was made up of unnamed heroes and their everyday actions.  Heroes drove their cars to support boycotts.  Heroes sat at a lunch counter to demand respect.  Heroes sang to give others hope.  Heroes meditated quietly in jail cells to protest injustice.  Heroes walked miles to change the laws.  Heroes taught their children and their children’s children not to hate. 

Unfortunately, it is also the everyday things that many of us can take for granted; the everyday things which are still denied.

Like the ability for all couples to live in a committed relationship in security and without hindrance.  Denied are the words “I do” and all the responsibilities, legal protections, and privileges which these words usher forth.  An everyday privilege which my mind rails against- not because I don’t want the ability, I cherish my commitment to Michael- but because marriage should not be a privilege.  It should be an everyday right.  Because “the rights to liberty and happiness belong to each of us and on the same terms, without regard to either skin color or sexual orientation.”  (John Lewis)

Equality in marriage is just one of the “everyday rights” issues that this nation faces.  There are many issues, rooted in discrimination and bigotry, which demand our attention: available/affordable health care, equitable education, fair wages, justice in the legal system, all the ”isms” which persist…  so many concerns, that I personally feel both galvanized and overwhelmed at the same time.  I often feel I don’t know how to best serve.

But then I remember what I know.  The little things make us heroes.  The little things, done with passion and fervor, make big change.

This Martin Luther King Day I ask myself and you: How will we be heroes… everyday?

With love,

Beth

“Make a career of humanity – and you will make a greater person of yourself, a greater nation of your country, and a finer world to live in.”

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (1929-1968)

The celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Birthday is upon us once again. I hope everyone has an opportunity to reflect during this time on matters of race, equality and respect.  I had many thoughts and ideas ruminating in my head about what to write this year and the days just got away from me.  So my e-mail this year is not all that I had hoped.

Besides being personally important to me, as you know, I find the ways that people approach this holiday interesting.  Thankfully, Kings’ birthday has, thus far, escaped the impact of becoming a reason for store sales; yet, this day has the feel of a typical “federal” holiday. For many people it just means that the banks are closed or they have a long weekend. 

Even more troubling, I have heard more than a few people relate to the holiday as one just for Black people.  As if the movement, the struggles and the accomplishments Martin Luther King embodies benefited and impacted only African Americans. As if our entire society has not felt the impact of civil rights.

I believe this holiday, more than any other celebrates the very essence of our country’s values and promise: what we strive to be. 

MLK was pretty prolific writer and orator during his short life and he has much to say that is relevant to the world we face to day: issues not just of racism but equity, socio-economics and war.  Unfortunately, thirty-four years after King’s assassination, concerns of civil liabilities and freedom, racism and prejudice, fear and strife are very relevant in our lives.

And as I write this on Friday evening, I admit that I am tired.  King often used the word “weary” in his writings, and that word resonates with me.  As is too often the case, I get caught up in much that is ultimately not important and weighted down by my own insecurities.  As they say, it’s my own “trees” that keep me from seeing the vast forest.  

And so I write this e-mail out of selfishness, because I need to be reminded of my values and priorities. Reminded of the personal responsibility I feel to the memory of the heroes of the Civil Rights Movement whom Martin Luther King, Jr. personifies.

I believe we must remember and honor the past. We must examine and confront in the present.

I hope this Martin Luther King Day, and the days which follow, give you the occasion to do just those things.

I thank you, friends, for all the impact you make on my life and the contributions you give to the world. And I close with some of King’s words which I found especially poignant this year:

“One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to remain awake through great periods of social change.  But today our survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ides, to remain vigilant, and face the challenge of change.  The large house in which we live demands that we transform this worldwide neighborhood into a worldwide brotherhood.  We must work passionately and indefatigably to bridge the gap between our scientific progress and our moral progress.”

“Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major. Say that I was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. Say that I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. I won’t have any money to leave behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things in life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. And that’s all I want to say. If I can help somebody as I pass along, if I can cheer somebody with a word or song, if I can show somebody he is traveling wrong, then my living will not be in vain.”

Thinking of you. Love,

This day transcends one single man and symbolizes all the sacrifice and determination and strength of many people.  The people who stood on Edmund Petus bridge in Selma, Alabama and were beaten by those who are supposed to protect; the Freedom Riders who risked their lives to enforce Interstate laws; the children who marched; the people who lost their lives.  So many people who worked to make the United States to uphold its promise to its people; a promise of equity and justice and liberty and freedom.

A promise that we continue to struggle to uphold every day.  What often strikes me is the relative anonymity most people in the civil rights struggle had (and have).  The “ordinary” folks whose names will never be known, on whose legacy our feet rest.  Few people have the gift, the voice, the ability to transcend and become a symbol as has Martin Luther King- a man whose voice brings tears to my eyes and well of determination in my throat every time I hear it.  Most will never know such impact, yet their work is important and impactful in its own right.

I confess, I struggle sometimes to feel my own impact.  To let this work, doing what is right, center me beyond any momentary ego-gratification.  Martin Luther King recognized the need for such recognition in his Drum Major sermon (oft cited in these yearly e-mails and quoted below) and he tried to channel that human need for importance into good works.  I remember reading James Farmer autobiography in college.  Farmer was a long time civil rights worker (in the 40s and 50s before there was even anything called a “movement”).  His book was entitled Standing in the Shadows (or something close to that.)  The title referenced his own personal struggle with standing in the shadows of those who became leaders of the Civil Rights Movement.  He talked honestly about his inner struggle to accept that he would not be in the spotlight, not recognized for his hard work, would not be a leader (and in fact was overshadowed by someone much younger). He wrote of those personal jealousies and desires and ego which get in the way.  I really admired him for being honest about his struggles: Recognizing his and our own humanness.

Because it is hard sometimes to see any impact, or continue momentum without a groundswell of change (like the Civil Rights Movement) or when you’re in the background and no one will know your name.

Yet there is still much to be done.  I fear the pendulum swing that will take us away from gains in civil rights.  I fear that people complacent in our relative peacefulness and wealth before last September will grasp safety instead of something much harder to hold: truth, freedom, justice.   And there are still many there are still many vestiges of racism, sexism, classism, all the isms, which have never been truly addressed.

One small example: A report came out recently that African Americans are charged (on average) 20% more when buying cars in person, however, there is not price difference when buying cars on-line.  Hmm.  And people say racism doesn’t exist.

Inequities exist in all facets of life, every day, everywhere.

And on Martin Luther King Day, I hope to let go of all the crap that holds me down (to paraphrase Toni Morrison) and gets in the way of what’s important.  To focus on the important work that needs to be done and do my best to make a difference to change those inequities in any way I can.

I write this to remind myself.  And to honor all of you for the work you do everyday that makes a difference.  And to thank you for the difference you make in my life.  And in hopes that we can keep working and feel inspired and empowered even in the shadows.

“Yes, If you must say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice; say that I was a drum major for peace, I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. I won’t have money to leave behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things in life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. ”

Love and peace on Martin Luther King Day and always.