You are not a single story
You’re not one day, or year, or scene
You’re not an isolated statement
Nor one act, or choice, belief
You’re not defined by one relationship
Whether healthy, whole or torn
You are not your job entirely
Not your sport, school, song or storm
You’re not the family who bore you
Not those who raised, rejected or embraced
Neither those you’ve borne and chosen
Nor the one’s you wish would be the case
You’re not the nation you were born in
Nor the air space, not the sea
Not the style of hair and body
Whatever they may be
You are, who you are
You will be, who you’ll be
You are every piece within your journey
Just as it is for me
Copy, coax, conform
Yet not of me, so scorn
I must be teachable
And authenticity’s reward
Is imitation of integrity
The love, compassion
Justice – chord
*prepare for a random rant that probably goes all over the place and makes hardly any sense*
So in English we are currently studying a unit on protest songs and poems. The other day as we were analysing a song by Archie Roach about the stolen generation, our teacher was explaining the meaning of the word ‘prejudice’. She said it is when a person has misconceptions about another person because they are from another country, and that was all.
I understand that we didn’t have time to go into a lot of detail, and maybe she does think it can be for other things as well as a person’s nationality, but I personally thought that was a bit too narrow. The definition in the Oxford Dictionary says: “A preconceived opinion that is not based on reason or actual experience. Unjust behaviour formed from such a basis”. If someone has a prejudice it could be because someone has a disability, or because they have a different religious belief to another person, or perhaps even because they were educated differently to somebody else or absolutely anything. She made it sound like a synonym for racism which I don’t believe is quite right. I think the other problem when someone has a prejudice is they don’t tend to realise they have one.
I guess this got to me a little because of past personal experiences where people have made assumptions and tried to help/teach in a way that was actually quite unhelpful or inappropriate. Please realise I’m not asking for sympathy and I understand I’ll get this kind of thing practically all my life, but if people presume they know what they’re doing all the time or aren’t happy to change their ways then how is that helping the future generation of adults (as in my age level and below) to be socially acceptable and treat everyone equally?
There. I’m done now! If you have any thoughts on the topic and feel like commenting please don’t hesitate as I’d be interested to hear what others have to say. Also note that I’m not trying to have ago at the teacher mentioned above.
Very mature response from one’s child. Very proud mother. ‘Nuff said!
Lies: more than mistakes
Control: more than well-intentioned
Neglect: more than forgetfulness
Ignorance: more than uneducated
Prejudice: more than difference
Abuse: more than self-expression
Honesty: more than truth
Integrity: more than honour
Virtue: more than principal
Navigating through myriad outward expressions of a person, community or program can be exhausting and daunting in the quest to respond, interact and relate appropriately; or according to our values and beliefs; or in a healthy way; or in the best interests of the other.
Parenting, of course, provides so much ‘opportunity’ to navigate and respond!
When our children were young we were regularly asked if we wanted to use melatonin to assist with their sleeping, as many parents of children who are blind are – or wish they had been. We declined as two of our children were good sleepers (relatively speaking) and we determined that the other child’s continued sleep issues were more person-specific. As a teen one child required meds during ‘tween’ years for seizures, on top of being one who needs sleep, and the normal vague, weary, distance of being a teenager. Life is affected by all these, how to navigate through all experiences and choose a response is a mammoth ask.
Hindsight indicates to me that the need for routine and life management was, thankfully, the best response to attitude, sleeplessness and character development for one child. Unfortunately, a more boundary-setting and less leave-it-to-your-own-consequences response to the teen years of another would have been a more productive response.
Each family is different from another. Each individual within that family is different from another. The culture and background of each of us is going to be different one from another in every community or program we are a part of. Enjoy the journey of learning, and seeking, and responding. I have learned much about the body, the mind, the emotions, cultures, seasons of life, ideas I would never have come up with on my own from inviting input from others. I have not necessarily embraced or agreed with all I have learned, but some I certainly have, and all I have grown from. Consider as many option as you can, or are able to consider at any one time in your life – and then choose. It’ll be ok, even when hindsight shows you the choice wasn’t the best one or it was even the wrong one. Start again, as Anne Shirley (of Green Gables) said, “Tomorrow is fresh, with no mistakes in it.”
I fear choosing wrong, but I like to learn and be the other side of a growth opportunity more. So, I choose to learn and grow. Will you learn and grow with me?
I dedicate these sentiments I wrote (see below) to the people I know who find that they, too, may be beset by doubts, fears and anxieties beyond number, and who find themselves in a place of darkness, shadow and a woefully uncertain future. We live in our present because it is the only now we have.
Don’t Think That of Me (Stuart McDonald)
You cannot for a moment think of me as this person,
This wretch or this weakened idiot and fool you think me to be.
For in me, inside of me, as a man of this earth, as torn as the next and as sunken beneath the weight of my own heart as the next,
I am something else.
I am the thing you fear the most,
The faithful one
The determined and recklessly hopeful one.
Yes, quite possibly the most to be feared am I –
He who hopes even when he has none left to himself.
All self gone, all hope gone,
Hardly an echo of hope remains.
And yet I choose to still have something,
Some foreign and familiar thing
Drifting, floating and sinking within me.
Most to be feared am I.
And this husk,
And this body burnt to a crisp.
For you would have me believe that
My fragile shell
Hollowed like a tree trunk carven an eternity ago
Struck down by lightening’s gleeful potency,
And yet, I hope.
My tears stream down my face and I hope.
In spite of my sunken soul and
This withered hand that reaches for someone else’s strength,
And wrapped in the cold blankets of the longest of winters,
I somehow choose some kind of hope.
It is not the kind I am use to.
Not me, my richest of dreams scattered in the winds like ticker tape in days gone by.
No, not like that.
And you think you can crush me?
Perhaps you can.
And perhaps even until the very last minute
I can look outside, beyond the claws
Beyond the mighty pressing weight you claim to possess
And which I certainly feel,
And perhaps even then … When all is fire and heat, and ice and stone all at once,
I can gaze beyond this here
Beyond this now.
Even the hopeless can hope.
And I am that man.