Forgiveness

 Thinking a lot about forgiveness.

I forgive people easily because I know we are all carrying something. Nobody can possibly understand some of the struggles I’ve had, or some of the joys. And that is likely true of you too.

I forgive people easily becausee heaven knows I make mistakes. Sometimes I even make foolish “on purposes”.

When you disagree with someone there is room for dialogue and room for new insights. I have strong convictions based on lived experience, deep conversations and years of research. But that doesn’t mean I know everything. The ancient Greeks taught us about hubris. I’m ok learning about it vicariously and not first-hand.

That doesn’t mean I don’t forget, however.

I don’t forget when someone spearheaded a campaign to have nobody show up at my would-be eigth grade birthday party. I tell myself she was having struggles of her own back then based on body image and family systems. I reassure myself that hormones do wild mind control in some teenagers. But I don’t forget that hurt and the person at the center of causing it.

The next day was the eighth grade trip to Hershey. I sat alone in the front seat. I cried so much that my nose bled. A teacher saw my hurt and comforted me, even though I hardly knew her. Nobody else talked to me the whole day. I won’t forget the hurt and I won’t forget the kindness.

Years later, out of the quagmire of the socioemotional world of adolescence, I took that hurt and it fueled me to be a better teacher. My best teaching days were in the middle school. “BWIN” is a phrase I’ve used a lot: be who I needed.

But! I know to be cautious.

Some of the same people who have hurt me are on social media now. I choose to keep them in my digital world because of my value of inclusivity and because you never know if someone has changed or if someone needs your message. It also helps me see viewpoints different from my own.

That said, I don’t start flame wars on their pages. I mostly unfollow them. So this week, when the pool party coup leader from 1988 came onto my page and started spewing Fox propaganda, I was surprised to see her there. I remembered to consider the source of her bile and to respond as courteously as I could.

I’m glad some of my social media friends were as gracious in responding with facts and firm about calling out racism. Glad Isn’t the right word. I’m relieved. Validated. Less alone. Grateful.

Being 13 is being under the influence of hormones. (And I know some amazing 13 year olds, who rise above it!)

Getting your talking points solely from Fox and friends is an even more terrifying influence.

Racism and hate speech is a choice. Going through adolescence is a fact of life.

One is a dividing factor. One is part of our shared humanity.

I forgive. I do not forget. And I try to see more what unites us than what divides us.

Friends, please stay kind. Use my forum as a place to lift one another and speak up for the downtrodden.

Know that there are folks all over who receive different information and misinformation.

Know that many people function on soundbites and not decades of research. Their facts may be off but their emotional experience is valid for them.

I believe the wounds of the past can fuel our emotional trajectory of the future. Some of us can take charge of our own terrain by connecting with others and with confirmed information. Some of us are stuck on runaway propaganda trains.

We need to understand the danger, so we cannot forget. But we cannot change the danger without listening with a loving heart and then setting limits.

No: we do not call one another terrorists just because of a religion, race, culture or political bent.

No: we do not need to discredit information (or credit it) on once source alone. Do your research!

No: we should never ever remain silent when the marginalized are being trampled.

And no: this message is not only about that one person or that one thread. It’s about people who find it acceptable to cheer about inheriting chjna with Nazi insignia. It’s about people who use mental health tropes/stereotypes to create art but then don’t discuss the reality of life with a condition as opposed to how it’s portrayed. It’s about older people who still spew eugenic race theories about intellectual superiority or inferiority. It’s about people in pain who need a kinder world.