A lovely rain is falling outside the Writing Porch. Coming with the rain are welcome cooler temperatures. It has been awfully hot in Little Egypt. I was thinking yesterday about our desire to be seen and respected by our leaders… in Government or education or Church. The fallback mottos of freedom of speech and freedom of thought and that all are equal under the law…ring hollow in practical life applications. It is easy to feel lonely in a crowd. Many of us proclaim that we want and admire and appreciate diversity…and then look for people that are just like we are. This proclivity has to be overcome by our actions and determination to celebrate the wonderful array of the Human Family….with its’ panoply of colors and languages and customs.
Everyone does not think like me. Everyone sees our world a bit differently. We all desire to be known by our leaders and by those whom we respect. All too often vital decisions are made by old white people. I am an old white person. We can develop such a Tunnel Vision that we see only our personal beliefs and dogma as the correct Roadmap for our Government and our Church. We tend to think in terms of our short lives and how we want our institutions to operate during the span of our personal history. Perhaps our decision-makers are making a devastating decision…and yet they communicate with their small cadre of advisors…who think like they do…and thus all is right with the world.
Disagreeable Voices are vital! Contrary opinions are essential to the health of an organization.
‘I do not think that our pastor knows my name,’ said Jane with consternation. ‘Why is that, asked Chet? ‘He says hi to me when I see him…but I have never had a conversation with him,’ Jane continued. ‘He calls me Pal,’ said Billy B. ‘He calls me Buddy…and from time to time…Friend,’ noted Chet with a smile. ‘Well I feel the same way at School when I see Mr. I. laugh and cut up with the Jocks and other sports celebrities and when I pass he never acknowledges my existence,’ mused Daryl. ‘Mr. I. told me that I could not ‘Go Out’ for the baseball team…and when I asked him why he said, ‘Duh’ and I knew he was referring to me being a girl, said Jane in an angry tone of voice! ‘The Student Council proposed to Mr. I. that our School develop a Womens’ Baseball Team…but he summarily dismissed it along with the Board of Trustees…who all are men,’ said Billy B. ‘I interviewed for a job at the Ben Franklin Dime Store and the manager told me that he would hire me for 75 cents per hour when my friend Russel was hired last week for $1.25 per hour,’ Neva J. noted in a disgusted manner. ‘Naomi asked the Dime Store Manager why he paid women less than men…and he said because they are the Breadwinners of the family…when I went into his office on my second day and told him that I was the breadwinner for my family…he gave me a blank stare…and told me to get back to work,’ Neva J. continued.