They are both great kids. Smart kids. Handsome kids, each with talents all his/her own. The eldest of the two is Robin, who will be 17 in early August. Robin is a leader. She has herself booked into so many activities this summer that her mother could scarcely find a free week to send the children here for a visit.
Robin is a youth leader in her church--the Woodinville Unitarian Universalist Church--which is non-denominational and accepts all religions and all people. Last Sunday, she was part of the service and gave a sermonette of her own creation. I copy it, verbatim, below. The "con" she refers to is short for "convention"--a youth gathering of other church youth leaders.
The theme of this past spring con was ‘courageous love.’ Two words that can inspire an entire weekend’s worth of discussion. I’m going to try to share with you what I learned at, and since, con about the connection between vulnerability and self love, the importance of being uncomfortable, and the way that love supports social justice work.
We all have our different understandings and definitions of words. Over the course of con, I was given the chance to adapt--and adapt again--my interpretation of the word ‘courage.’ I came to the idea that being courageous is ‘putting yourself in a vulnerable place to help yourself and others.’ As for the word ‘love’ it is a word that can be thrown around often but it isn’t as easy as some make it sound. Evidently, we all struggle with love sometimes. Loving people who are different than us, people who we see as enemies, our family, friends, and ourselves takes courage. At con, we discussed the ‘cans’, ‘shoulds’, ‘whys’, and ‘hows’ of love. Can I love a person who has done a terrible thing to me and why should I? And how can I love myself when society tells me not to?
In my 16 years of life, learning to love myself has proven to be the hardest part of love, and I know I’m not alone in that. In today’s society, we are taught that there are parts of ourselves that are inadequate, inferior, and shameful. It takes courage and vulnerability to not cover up the parts of ourselves we are ashamed of, not to walk through life pretending to be someone else. I’ve found that only accepting part of yourself and hiding the rest doesn’t work. To truly love and accept ourselves, it is necessary to accept our whole selves.
Maisy Elspeth, one of the worship leaders at con, shared that, “The root of the word courage is cor- the latin word for heart. In latin, the word courage means to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart.” Sharing your heart and true self to the world can be, and probably will be, uncomfortable. This Sunday, I invite you to embrace your uncomfortability because that’s what courage is--the willingness to do something you know is right, no matter how hard and uncomfortable it may be.
The idea of embracing the state of being uncomfortable carries over into social justice work, in fact, for privileged identities, being uncomfortable is necessary in helping to dismantle oppressive power structures. We try to ignore the ways that we, personally, take part in oppressive systems because we don’t want to feel guilty or uncomfortable so we tell ourselves things like, “it’s fine, it’s only a joke,” or, “I’m not racist, I have black friends,” or, “I can’t perpetuate sexist stereotypeing because I’m a woman.” The truth is, if we don’t have the willingness to look at our own complicity in racism, sexism, transphobia, ableism ect… we won’t be able change our actions to make the world a safer place for oppressed groups of people.
Since con, I’ve been learning about white supremacy and reflecting on the reasons I do racial justice work. I’ve realized that I’ve done this work, in part, to quench my ‘white guilt’, to congratulate myself on being a ‘good white person’ who does this work out of the kindness of their heart. Only recently have I come to understand that the narrative of the, ‘good white person’ is harmful. Reflecting on the harm I cause to others due to my internalized white supremacy and trying to prevent said-harm in the future doesn’t make me a good person, it simply means I’m doing the bare minimum of anti-racism work that I should be doing.
I’ve found that there are better reasons to participate in social justice work than self-congratulation. For instance, love, is one of those reasons. I’d like to share a quote about the importance of love in anti-racism work from Layla Saad’s “Me and White Supremacy” workbook.
“This is love work. Cornel West said, “justice is what love looks like in public”. Love is
one of those words that is very hard to define. But in the context of this work, here is
what it means to me: It means that you do this work because you believe in something
greater than your own self-gain. It means you do this work because you believe that
every human being deserves dignity, freedom and equality. It means you do this work
because you desire wholeness for yourself and for the world. It means you do this work
because you want to become a good ancestor. It means you do this work because Love
is not a verb to you, it is an action. It means you do this work because you no longer
want to intentionally or unintentionally oppress people. You will also need Love for this
journey because when the truth-telling gets really hard, you will need something more
powerful than pain and shame to encourage you to keep going. It is my hope that love is
what initially brought you to this work. It is my conviction that love is what will keep you
going.”
In my time since con, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of love and justice; social justice work is guided by love, and love is given direction and strength through the lens of justice. My challenge for you today is to take some time to reevaluate the reasons why, and the ways how, you do social justice work. I invite you to foster your love into acts of kindness, resilience, and rebellion. And know that when the going gets rough, you can always draw courage from this community.
Thus saith "my baby" Robin. She uses some words that I consider triggers that will incite ire in a non-receptive audience ("white supremacy" among them), but she is using them in their truest sense. Her target audience was her church--a place of acceptance. My scared grandma sense wishes she didn't care so much because 1) I never had the courage to step up and be counted in my younger days, and 2) I fear that her resistance/rebellion will somehow put her in danger. I lived through the 50s and 60s when Freedom Riders were beaten and even killed for standing up for truth. But the real truth is, that though I don't always believe in the tactics, I DO believe in the messages, and I bless this young'un in her quest to make the world a better place. Please God, protect her in every way!
Why am I so proud? How many 16-year-olds do you know who have delved so deeply into love in the purest sense? I love you all, courageously!
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