White Privilege

 HS #62 2020.9.10

 

White Privilege 

 

Every so often I have an “ah-ha” moment when blinders are seemingly removed from my eyes. Yet, I hesitate to make that claim because, like the blind man healed by Jesus, I am perhaps still not seeing clearly, but unlike the blindman, not realizing it. 

 

Be that as it may, I recently heard that in Saginaw Valley there is a monument commemorating its first white person - a Jesuit missionary priest in 1675. 

 

I instantly had two thoughts: “Cool! That’s a tidbit of history one wouldn’t know if not for the monument. It prods one to imagine the Valley back then.” The other was, “What hubris! Why do whites think that the first white is an occasion for celebration and note? Reflecting a bit more, I realized that if I saw a monument for “the first black in Michigan” I would likely think to myself, “There’s more of that political correctness stuff - someone trying to make a point.” 

 

Only at such times do I realize the deep extent of white privilege in my own thinking – even after having been sensitized by the death of George Floyd and the many yard signs in Holland proclaiming “Black Lives Matter.” 

 

I was recently in a conversation with someone who asked the purpose of those signs. His question, “What are they meant to accomplish? How am I to act differently after having seen one?” Good questions. Yet my “ah-ha” moment shows exactly their purpose. They hopefully help show me – and other whites – that, like it or not, admit it or not, I am part of the problem. 

 

Ironically, although affluent white Americans are likely among the most traveled in the world, this extensive exposure to other cultures may serve to increase our sense of pride and entitlement rather than increase our appreciation for other peoples and cultures.  I remember visiting the cliff dwellings in Mesa Verde, Colorado and being told by a Native American guide how well constructed these 800-year-old structures were. We climbed ladders to get a closer look at the clay rooms. Then it occurred to me that they were about the age of the great cathedrals of Europe. “Why are you so proud of this?”, I thought. 

 

I also remember visiting villages in Ecuador with simply constructed homes and children running around and about. While others commented how small and close-together they were, I found myself envious of the tight community they allowed. What a contrast to our life style where we stay secluded in air-conditioned homes, locked doors, and put up “No Trespassing” and “Private Beach” signs. How bizarre, when you think of it – this European idea that we can own a piece of the 4.5-billion-year-old earth. Like a flea owning the elephant. 

 Native Americans saw things differently – they viewed the earth as owning them.

 

But didn’t Europeans control much of the globe? Doesn’t that give them cause for pride? “Guns, Germs, and Steel” by Jared Diamond provides an answer. Much of it was accidental. Smallpox and other European diseases wiped out 95% of the Native American population, as they did indigenous peoples on other continents.  Some is “personality.” In the 15^th and 16^th century China began exploring for trade while Europeans explored to conquer. 

 

The point is, we whites look around, see the world through our value system, and can’t help but think that we’re rather special. “If you’re not Dutch, you’re not much” is meant to be a joke, but, as Proverbs 26:19 points out, jokes often contain a germ of one’s true thought. 

 

So what can be done? Do we destroy the monument in Saginaw? Recently a John Wayne exhibit was closed upon discovering Wayne was a white supremacist – at least as indicated by things he said. Wayne, like all of us, was a person of his own time.  Do we censor him forever because he didn’t have the opportunity for the “ah ha” moments we have had?  What happens when we uncover 30-year-old comments or actions by our leaders and heros? Can we progress individually and as a society while still allowing for mistakes of the past? Isn’t intolerance for past actions a close relative of intolerance for other ethnicities? Aren’t both built on pride in one’s present position?  

 

Wisdom is needed, and wisdom, as shown by Solomon and Daniel (the two Biblical characters described as being wise) involves creative thinking and imagination. Someone in Saginaw Valley suggested leaving the monument and erecting another for Native Americans. That’s a clever start. 

 

A Recent Wedding Reflection: A Three-fold cord

 HS #61 2020.8.13

 

A Recent Wedding Reflection: A Three-fold cord

 

My favorite book of the Bible is Ecclesiastes. This Book of Wisdom asks tough questions about life and doesn’t give tidy answers. Like any good piece of art, such as the enigmatic smile of Mona Lisa, it has a mysterious, unexplained element.

 

The author begins one portion: “Two are better than one, for if one falls, the other will lift up. If two lie together, they are warm. And though a single person might be overcome in a fight, two will endure.”  But then comes the mystery in the last sentence, “A threefold cord is not quickly broken.” What’s the point of ending this passage with a THREE-FOLD cord? How does it apply? 

 

Exploring the mathematics, the author is correct. Two strands wound around each other can be pulled apart. That is why our DNA is a twisted DOUBLE helix – two strands that can be separated when needed. 

 

However, an interesting topological situation happens when a third cord is included. This third cord – interwoven with the other two – forms an elegant braid in which all three strands stay bound together. 

 

What does that have to do with marriage? Isn’t the love between two people enough? Is something else needed? Does something else add richness and strength to the relationship just as a third cord adds beauty and strength to a braided rope? 

 

This is the mystery. The author doesn’t tell us what he had in mind – maybe nothing. Perhaps, like good art, he intentionally left it to us to contemplate. However, the rest of Ecclesiastes gives some hints. 

 

The author is skeptical of some things. For example, he writes, “Who knows whether the spirit of man goes upward and the spirit of the beast goes down to the earth.” In other words, he has no special reason to believe in an afterlife. However, there is a noteworthy exhortation further on: “Remember thy Creator.”

 

The philosopher Simone Weil agrees. She wrote, “I am quite sure there is a God in the sense that I am sure my love is no illusion. I am quite sure there is no God in the sense that I am sure there is nothing which resembles whatever I conceive when I say that word.”  Fascinating.  So she is claiming that God is ultimately the cause – the source – of love, but who exactly this God is, is a mystery. Kind of like the enigmatic God who described himself to Moses as merely “I am that I am.”

 

 Just perhaps the Psalmist is right when he says, “The young lion roars – seeking its prey from God.” Just perhaps there is a personal God who is ultimately behind even the food of a strong self-sufficient young lion. Did Romeo kill himself because he thought Juliet was dead? Or was it because Shakespeare wanted him to? Similarly, is there an Author behind the good lives that you two have had and who is smiling right now as you join together? In case there is, how might you “Remember thy Creator” in your new home? How might God, however mysterious or known be a third strand? 

 

But in fairness, Ecclesiastes seems focused not so much on God, but on how to live a fulfilled life.  The author quickly dispenses with some things: wealth, possessions, accomplishments, pleasure.  It’s not clear that the author himself even finds the answer. Great philosophers through the centuries have wrestled with trying to answer this question.

 

In the 20^th century the psychologist Maslow may have succeeded.  He formed a pyramid of human needs – like the food pyramid. The base includes food, shelter and security, then higher up love, belonging, respect and finally self-actualization – essentially becoming the most you can be. 

 

But later in life, Maslow realized that there was yet a higher level. He wrote, “The self only finds its full actualization in giving itself to some goal outside oneself, in altruism and spirituality.” The poet Mary Oliver expressed the same challenge, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” 

 

What a moment! You are coming here as two individuals – you will be leaving as one couple. Marriage is a semi permeable membrane – it goes in just one direction.  Just one wild and precious life and you both are ready here and now to commit that life to each other.

 

Well and good for the present. But later, as you reflect and plan a rich, purposeful new life together, ask yourselves “What will be the third strand?”

 

 

 

Rights versus Responsibilities

HS #60 2020.7.9

Rights versus Responsibilities

Before the coronavirus ever met our shores, I suspected that the U.S. would be hit especially hard by this modern plague.  Back to that later. 

As a college professor, I have long noticed a moral transformation that can happen when a young person leaves home for college. I explain it using two concentric circles – a smaller one inside a larger one. 

Having lived with parents who made the rules and set the boundaries, eighteen-year-olds are practiced at living within the larger circle of “what they are allowed to do.” Moral thought is focused on staying within the circle, perhaps getting as close to the boundary as possible without crossing it.  How late can they stay out? What can they consume? What are the (perhaps unspoken) rules concerning physical/romantic relationships? They had little choice in the matter. Afterall, those making the rules were living under the same roof and often the source of transportation and finances.  

Then they leave home for college.  Yes, there are still college rules needed for living in community, and sometimes a roommate can be more demanding than parents. But largely, they have greatly increased liberty to make their own choices. Along with choosing their own bedtimes (or more likely having no regular bedtime), eating when and what they want, and hanging out with whomever they find interesting, college students also have opportunity to jettison – or at least loosen – former moral prescriptions. So the outer circle increases in size as they enjoy exercising their newly gained liberty. 

But, ideally, even as the outer circle enlarges and perhaps fades, the inner circle will become their new focus. Call it the “college challenge.”

While the outer circle is defined by “What CAN I do?” the inner circle is defined by “What SHOULD I do?” and even “What is the best thing to do?” While one is motivated to stay in the outer circle for extrinsic reasons – to stay out of trouble, the motivation to aim for the inner circle is intrinsic: How can I become a better person?  What is the right, the caring, the loving, the courageous, even the sacrificial thing to do?

A good college experience will encourage students to ask these questions and find worthy answers. The encouragement should come via classes which raise questions about living justly in a world of limited resources, caring for body and spirit, and living with compassion and empathy.  The encouragement may be modeled by speakers who challenge students to look beyond themselves and see themselves as part of a larger community. 

Perhaps most significantly, transformation will come from meeting and becoming friends with those who have different lifestyles and values and disparate life experiences. I remember a lunch conversation with a basketball player from Davenport University’s varsity team.  He was grateful that DU required only a few “general ed” classes. I challenged him that perhaps such classes are needed to help students gain a broader view of the world. He immediately responded that a friend from the team came from one of Grand Rapid’s wealthiest families, while another came effectively from off the street. Thus, his friends and teammates were enlarging and challenging his worldview. I yielded my point – impressed. 

Although focusing on the inner circle has the advantage of advancing moral maturity and ethical excellence, we in America live in a culture which encourages us to concentrate on the prominent outer circle.  “RIGHTS” are boldly emblazoned in the Constitution. Thus, it’s easy for Americans to focus on what we have the liberty to do rather than what we ought to do. While other countries may emphasize living in community, shared sacrifice, and being a responsible member of society, the prominent focus for many of us is “What are my rights? What CAN I do?” We are encouraged, for example, to claim the right to “keep your money in your own pocket,” while those from other countries cheerfully pay higher taxes – understanding it’s for the common good. 

This mentality also explains why presently many proudly proclaim their right not to wear masks and eschew recommendations for social distancing. Recently, concerning large political rallies,  the Vice President of the United States, the person given the responsibility for forming a national COVID-19 strategy, boldly stated, “We have the right to freedom of speech, and the right to peaceably assemble.”  

Indeed we do. But those rights are hurting us just now. Although we may have no leader to encourage us, let’s take the “college challenge” and focus on the inner circle. 

A Tale of Two Cities

HS #59 2020.6.11

A Tale of Two Cities

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity . . . “

These lines of Charles Dickens ring true.  Did anyone else, upon hearing of the arrest of the other three Minneapolis police officers, have the acerbic thought that hopefully now we can leave this bad news behind and get back to the corona virus? 

Of course, that’s just the problem. We shouldn’t leave “this bad news” behind us.        

Since I’m quoting great literature, here’s Yeats: “Things fall apart; The centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.  The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” Regular readers of my column may recognize the phrase, “Things fall apart.” It is the title of the award-winning book by African author Chinua Achebe that was the focus of last month’s column.  

 “The best lack all conviction.” This phrase reveals the commonality between the two trials in which we currently find ourselves. 

What makes the corona virus so destructive? Ironically, it is the very fact that it is not so destructive. A person can carry this virus for days before the symptoms begin to emerge. Moreover, a large portion of our population gets no symptoms at all, yet can readily pass it on.  That is, instead of having just two distinct populations of the healthy and the symptomatic, there is a third group – the enablers - which is part of the problem even though they don’t appear to be. Indeed, it is those comfortable ones in the middle which pose the real threat. 

Martin Luther King had a similar thought.  In his Letter from a Birmingham Jail, King penned, “The Negro’s great stumbling block is not the KKK, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice – who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice – who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a ‘more convenient season.’”  

As with corona, the dangerous ones are those invisible in the middle – the lukewarm. It’s not the “worst filled with passionate intensity” who are the real problem. The “Derek Chauvins” of this world will always exist. It’s that “the best lack all conviction.”

When I read George Orwell’s “Animal Farm” in high school, my teacher asked who was responsible for the evil that happened. The quick easy answer was Napoleon, the tyrant pig. But through Socratic questioning, our teacher pulled the true answer from us. It was perhaps Boxer, the Horse. Boxer represented the silent masses who passively allowed the evil to go unchallenged.

King gave another famous address – here in Michigan – at Grosse Point High School, in the affluent 92%-white suburb of Detroit. The title of his speech was “The Other America” which he began by explaining that “this country has this kind of dualism, this schizophrenia, so every city ends up being two cities rather than one.”

 Continuing, he spoke of “our cities going up in flames.” While condemning riots, he challenged the white audience that “a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice and humanity.”

Will it be different this time? Do the best still lack all conviction? There are signs of hope. We are getting glimpses of the best of times. Tens of thousands – blacks and whites together –  marching in peaceful protest and solidarity. Thousands more – blacks and whites together –  cleaning up the destruction of the vandals and looters. White police officers kneeling in solidarity with protesters. Many trying to empathize (while acknowledging the impossibility) with blacks – black men especially – who felt their faces ground into the pavement, felt their  throats pressed shut, felt their life slowly ebb. Can we embrace the words, “We are one nation, and their pain is our pain, their dreams are our dreams, we share one nation, one home and one glorious destiny.” Is this dream impossible? Dare we hope? Dare we continue the fight? Don Quixote gives answer, “To change the world, my friend, Sancho, is not madness nor utopia. It’s justice.” 

2020 Vision

HS #58 2020.5.21

2020 Vision

2020 has given us a new vision of our world.  Let’s explore one aspect via the contributions of three good books – all worth reading if you have some extra time.

“The River of Doubt” by Candice Millard details the compelling adventure of Theodore Roosevelt after his term as president as he joined his son and others in exploring and mapping an unknown tributary of the Amazon River. The author knows her history AND her biology. She reveals that the tropical rainforests are very different from our northern forests. Essentially, the diversity of life in our neck of the woods is comparatively limited, because it is all new. Glaciers covered this area until only 14,000 years ago. So we have relatively homogenous forests. Without much variety, trees of a given species can easily find others of their species for wind-blown pollination.

In contrast, the tropical regions have existed uninterrupted for millions of years. This has allowed time for flora and fauna to co-evolve into specialized niches. Consequently, tropical regions have exotic looking flora and fauna. There are almost ten times as many species of (brightly colored and varied shaped) fish in the Amazon as there are of the same-colored-and-shaped fish in the Mississippi/Missouri system.  

Case in point: Trees of one rain forest species live a long distance from their nearest fertilizing partner. How then do they fertilize? The flower of the tree opens at the exact time that a short-lived insect hatches which feeds on nothing but the pollen of the flower. Given the long evolution of these complex relationships, individuals of one species are critically dependent upon individuals of other species. 

“Things Fall Apart” is the award-winning book by African author Chinua Achebe. Short and an easy read, it tells the fictional but believable story of an African village which becomes home to a couple Western missionaries. These newcomers are sensitive to cultural differences and thus are careful not to be a disruptive force. But alas, their presence sets things in motion that undermine and eventually destroy the village. “Things fall apart” not because of wanton ignorance or malice, but just because the societal framework is fragile. 

Finally, “Antifragile” is a fascinating nonfiction read by Nassim Taleb, who also authored “The Black Swan.” The author describes three different ways to respond to stress. Some things are fragile, that is, easily broken or destroyed. As with the Sword of Damocles hanging by a thread above his head as he eats the king’s feast, just a slight perturbation will bring destruction. 

In contrast to fragile things, durable things are resistant to stress. These can handle change and still retain their form and use. Recall the Phoenix as a classical example. After being harangued and beaten down in spirit, the Phoenix resurrects to its original form. Totally durable. 

However, in contrast to both of these, there are some things which not only withstand stress, but actually are improved by it. The author coins the term "antifragile" for such things. Can you think of a classical example? The Hydra was the mythical beast who, when its head was cut off, grew two heads – twice the strength. Do antifragile things actually exist? Yes, our bones are antifragile. When broken, the healed bone is stronger than the original. Our bodies are antifragile when stressed by viruses and bacteria. Antibodies are formed making the body better than before. 

Can you see the common theme of these books? Similar to coniferous forests, simple societies did not have time to evolve into complicated interdependent entities. Homesteaders who settled the Midwest carried all they needed in a horse-drawn wagon, built a house out of sod or logs on 40 acres, and were self-sufficient in feeding and protecting themselves. A simple society such as that is quite durable. Individuals may be harmed, but no societal damage. 

On the other hand, modern society, like the rainforest, is fragile because it is so interdependent. Even as opposed to a generation ago, factories now operate on just-in-time inventory, thus depending entirely on manufacturers and transportation from around the globe. We all reap the benefits every time we eat a banana or drive a car. But just as Damocles learned that privilege comes with risk, so have we learned it in 2020 – a new 2020 vision. 

Our challenge then, as individuals, communities, nations, and as a world is to ponder how post COVID-19 we can start rebuilding societal structures that retain previous advantages, but are more durable – and possibly even antifragile. 

Existential Threat

HS #57 2020.4.9

Existential Threat

“Existential threat.” No one has defined that term, but we have been hearing it lately.  Bernie Sanders uses it to describe global warming. Democratic leaders apply it to Trump. The current pandemic brings it front and center.  I take it to mean a threat that causes everyone to take stock of their own vulnerability and mortality. It is also a threat that alters our understanding of reality.

Existential threats are as old as human civilization.  What is the Old Testament if not a history of existential threats: The Flood, the bondage in Egypt, Goliath and the Philistines.   

 One of the most powerful, if less known, Old Testament accounts is when the King of Syria sends an army to capture the prophet Elisha. Elisha’s servant wakes and finds the city surrounded by enemy chariots. Seeing no hope for rescue, he cries to Elisha in terror.  The untroubled prophet asks God to “open his eyes.” Instantly the young man sees that between them and the enemy is an entire hillside of chariots of fire.  What a story! Interesting that it often takes an existential threat to help us see a different side of reality – to see something that has been there all along but hitherto invisible or unnoticed. 

In 1988 the Knickerbocker Theatre showed a four-star Norwegian movie, Pathfinder, based on a thousand-year-old Norse legend. Bands of marauders, Tchudes ravaged the frozen Scandinavian north country preying on settlers and plundering villages. 

In the opening scene a teenage boy escapes as his family is killed and eventually finds refuge in a distant hamlet. He laments to the venerable spiritual leader of the village, the Pathfinder, that he is now alone; he has no one. The Pathfinder counters: No, you are not alone – we are all bound together with invisible bonds. 

The young loner is captured by the Tchudes, but is saved by the Pathfinder who trades his own life to save the boy’s. With all hope lost, the young man tricks the Tchudes to their death in an avalanche, ostensibly sacrificing himself in the process. Witnesses claim in awe, “He gave his own life that we might live.”  As the community honors the death of their young savior, we then see the young man’s hand, as he, exhausted, pull himself out of the rubble as if rising from an Easter tomb.  Returning to the village, he announces, “The Tchudes will never harm us again.”  

An inspiring movie well worth watching – I have shown it to scores of friends.  The climax occurs with that two-letter word, “us”.  The young man, having thought he was alone in the world, has found a new community – a community that chooses him as their new Pathfinder. But more importantly, he fully realizes the truth of his mentor: We are all bound together. 

And this is the reality of which I have become more aware during the world’s current existential threat. Indeed, for better or worse, we ARE all bound together. 

Can we find stronger evidence? Perhaps last December as we were busy preparing Christmas dinners, someone in Wuhun China (had you ever heard of Wuhun?) bought an animal at a wet market (ever heard of a wet market?) for dinner. Unfortunately, the animal had likely been bitten by a bat which carried the coronavirus. (Ever heard of that virus?) Someone getting dinner on the other side of the globe has changed our world.  We, the human race, yea, all life on earth - we are connected. 

Last November I sent an email to a couple of friends: “Just back from my favorite walk to Kollen Park along 12th Street. As I was walking, I was thinking, "What a cool place to live - the earth, that is." Wanted to send a text to all other planets, "Hey, we're having a party of life here on planet earth!" Then as I passed your homes, I realized a big reason for the good times - it's folks like you. Glad to have you as friends.” 

I’m taking that same walk these days, but with an even deeper realization of our connectedness. We first learned it fifty years ago with the Apollo 8 mission: We all live together on a tiny  beautiful blue and white globe floating in the immensity of space.  We, all living things on earth, share the same DNA, the same ancestors, the same destiny. Let’s continue taking care of each other. We’re among friends. Let’s keep the party going. 

Counterintuitive Insights

HS #56 2020.3.12

Counterintuitive Insights

Recently I got into an oft-repeated conversation in the locker room of MVP Athletic Club. Several of us were getting dressed in one crowded aisle while the rest of the locker room was empty. So the inevitable comment: Here’s Murphy’s Law in action – the undesirable outcome happens most often. 

Actually, not the case. Most of the time, men (and presumably, women) are distributed throughout the locker room. We just notice the rare occasions when we’re bunched up. 

The situation illustrates a common mistake in perception. Humans are not very good at taking into account the entirety of our experience. A similar thing happens when folks attribute a streak of six three-point shots in a basketball game to a “hot hand.” Nope. It’s just going to happen every once in a while.  

Want some proof?  Suppose you had a fair (balanced) coin and you flipped it 30 times, what would the sequence of heads (H) and tails (T) look like? Try this: Write out a random sequence of 30 Hs and Ts. THEN, flip a coin thirty times and compare the sequences. Don’t continue reading until you have done it. 

Please – some of you haven’t done it yet. 

OK – Here’s my prediction: The ACTUAL sequence of heads and tails has a longer string of all heads or all tails than the random one you imagined. Am I correct? 

Humans don’t realize that randomness produces such strings as often as it does. Moreover, as with the locker room and hot streaks, we remember such things when they do happen.  But statistical analysis shows that these events happen about as often as probability would predict. 

In the examples above, events happened that we didn’t expect. Another mistake in perception occurs when we wrongly DO expect unlikely events to happen more often than they do. 

If you’re interested in evaluating your perception at this, take a break from reading this column and find a copy of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address (easily found online). The address has 268 words of various lengths. Pick out a sample of ten words that you think is representative of the entire collection. Then continue reading below. 

Do you have your ten words? How well did you sample?  Here are a couple ways to check: i) four of your words should be 3 letters or less. ii) six of them should be 4 letters or less, iii) the total number of letters in your ten words should be about 43.  I bet you didn’t have enough small words. Instead, your eye was drawn to the exceptions – the longer words. Am I correct? 

If so, then you, like the rest of us, focus on the exceptions – in this case the longer words. These noteworthy occurrences catch our attention and we mistakenly think they happen more often than they do.  And this tendency to think that the exceptional rare event will happen to us can have negative consequences. 

As a preteen and young teenager, I rode my bicycle all around town – exploring streams and railroad bridges, cemeteries and vacant lots. Only rule: be home in time for supper. My mom, who had no trouble worrying about colds and germs and wet hair, wasn’t concerned about me being abducted. What has changed over the years? Why aren’t there scores of young kids biking all around Holland? Have parents focused on the exceptions – those very rare but well-publicized cases around the country when a child is abducted? Look at the cost – the loss of “Tom Sawyer” adventures for millions.  (I keep an empty lot behind my house “wild” to allow neighborhood children a place to explore and have fun in a non-manicured setting.) Similarly, rare-but-publicized shark attacks keep beach goers from enjoyable vacations. 

This tendency to focus on the exception also contributes to why people are suckers for the lottery. We see via the media those rare lucky ones who win a jackpot and imagine it happening to us, but don’t see the millions who – over the space of a year - could have bought themselves tickets to a favorite event with the money. 

Loss of money and opportunity is bad enough,  but Hope psychology professor, David Myers, realized this tendency can have even more serious consequences. After the terrorist attack of 9/11, he predicted 800 more traffic deaths the following year as people flew less and drove more.  For although not as spectacular and news-making, the probability of death from car travel greatly exceeds that from flying. He was wrong. The difference was 1500.