White America Must Embrace Becoming a Minority

“The price of privilege is the moral duty to act when one sees another person treated unfairly.” (Isabel Wilkerson, Caste)

These are discouraging times, yet also illuminating. While the Black Lives Matter movement has brought hope and determination over this last year, it also brings awareness of how very far we are from achieving equality. And the anti-Asian sentiment that became more evident in response to COVID and climaxed in the horrific shooting in Atlanta last month shows us that hate is an equal-opportunity employer. As more of us act to counter the inequities surrounding race, ethnicity, and gender, the backlash by those intent on preserving the status quo becomes more malicious.

I am a white, middle-class, cisgender female. I recognize my privilege and know I will never fully understand what it feels like to be a minority or a member of a marginalized community. Perhaps it is that recognition that makes me eager for the day when whites join our sisters and brothers of color as minorities in America. It can’t come soon enough.

The U.S. Census Bureau has projected that by the year 2044, non-Hispanic white Americans will join all other ethnic groups as minorities. The Bureau states that, “no group will have a majority share of the total and the United States will become a ‘plurality’ of racial and ethnic groups.” Continue reading

Mystery and Mastery in a Wuzzle

“Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand.” (Neil Armstrong)

Do you know what a Wuzzle is? A Wuzzle is a word puzzle that reveals a common phrase or saying. The first example to the left represents the phrase “good afternoon.” The one below it is “read between the lines.” No, it’s not rocket science.

Many years ago, I learned a valuable lesson from a Wuzzle. I happened to be in a hotel room in Denver, immobilized by an ice-pack nursing an injured arm. Having planned poorly, I had only the comics page of The Rocky Mountain News within my reach. I read Peanuts, Doonesbury, and probably even Mary Worth, and then turned to the Wuzzle. It was an easy one and I got it in seconds. With nothing else to read, I continued to stare at the Wuzzle. Very soon, I saw another possible solution for the puzzle, and shortly after, a third came to mind. I liked that one best of all.

By now, I was intrigued. “Okay, if I see three, why not four?” I asked myself. Continue reading

Willy-Nilly Acts of Kindness

“My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.” (Maya Angelou)

As Random Acts of Kindness Day approaches, I confess I’ve never been entirely comfortable with the notion of random acts of kindness. Heaven knows we need all the kindness we can get, so I’m not going to quibble or critique any kind deed. But, let’s remember how much power there is in intentional kindness.

Maybe it’s because I am a consummate planner that that the notion of doing anything random goes against my nature. Random, to me, feels so … random.

Merriam-Webster defines random as without definite aim, direction, rule, or method. That sounds rather hit-or-miss to me. It implies an indifference that discounts the importance of kindness, that shrugs its shoulders and says, “Whatever.”

I think if we are going to change the world and make kindness a priority in our interactions, we need to be intentional. Continue reading

Just Show Up

“We cannot, of course, save the World because we do not have authority over its parts. We can serve the world though. That is everyone’s calling, to lead a life that helps.” (Barry Lopez)

Yesterday, I participated in a Saging International webinar on “Cultivating Compassion.” I signed up for it weeks ago, not noticing that it was scheduled for the day after the inauguration. As it turned out, it was a perfect follow-up to President Biden’s powerful and beautifully inclusive speech, and also to Amanda Gorman’s luminous poem, “The Hill We Climb.”

Both asked us to step up to this moment in history with a commitment to unity and to bringing our best selves to the task. Each, in their own way, acknowledged that it will not be easy and there may be some who do not share the vision. Nonetheless, the time is now. Continue reading

12 Lessons I Learned in 2020

“Let our New Year’s resolution be this: We will be there for one another as fellow members of humanity, in the finest sense of the word.” (Göran Persson)

Attribution: Donna CameronA year ago, so many of us were making resolutions or setting intentions for a new year, cleverly referring to our effort as our “20-20 Vision.”

And how’d that work out for us?

In my own myopic wisdom, I referred to the epidemic of incivility swirling around us and even predicted that it would become a “pandemic” as the presidential election took center-stage. I should not have used the word pandemic quite so blithely, nor assumed that the universe would ration its epidemics to one-at-a-time.

While I may still muster the enthusiasm to set a few intentions for the coming year, I prefer to use this time to look back (with 20-20 hindsight) on the lessons I learned from this year—lessons that shed light on many things we needed to see, some horrific and some truly enlightening.

The Lessons of 2020

The Culinary Determinant: When you plan your meals in advance and only shop for groceries every two weeks, you eat better and healthier. And cheaper.

The Connubial Covenant: If you’re going to be in isolation with one person, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for months on end, it’s good to 1) have married or partnered wisely, and 2) have a sense of humor.

The Theory of Judicious Balance: Self-control and self-discipline are essential, but so is an occasional dish of mint chocolate chip ice-cream. Either without the other leads to protracted gloom.

The Good Guy Postulate: The people who are heroes will never tell you how great they are. The people who are a blight on the planet will do everything they can to convince you—and themselves—that they are important and worthy. The harder they try, the more unimportant and unworthy they reveal themselves to be.

The I’m-a-Good-Liberal Deception: If you are absolutely certain you are free of any bias or prejudice, you’re undoubtedly wrong. Read a book, listen to a podcast, or engage in conversation that challenges your assumptions. Then, allow what you read or heard to get past your defenses. 

The Omission Revelation: The more quickly we learn how to overlook small annoyances, the happier we will be. The more quickly we learn to moderate our own annoying habits, the happier our partner will be. Do not overthink this one, just do the best you can.

The Comfortable Shoe Cognition: A fuzzy slipper with a supportive sole is all one really needs 93.7 percent of the time. A good athletic shoe will suffice for everything else. High heels can be repurposed as garden ornaments.

The Rob and Laura Inevitability: Any dark day or period of despondency can be lightened by healthy doses of The Dick Van Dyke Show or either Bob Newhart series. This is a scientific fact.

The Flawed Human Disclosure: If you find it hard to admit that you’re wrong, start by admitting that.

The Who’s Winning Delusion: Unless you’re playing cards or a board game, it is unnecessary to keep score. We’re all just doing the best we can—what does it matter who emptied the dishwasher last?

The Elasticity Certainty: As crappy as 2020 has been, there are myriad reasons to enter 2021 with optimism and hope. We are resilient. We can learn to do better. We know how to encourage and support one another. We are here to listen to each other’s stories, and to eat one another’s cooking, and declare it delicious.

The Kindness Constant: Every kindness matters, even the smallest. If you’re in a place where you can’t find kindness, it’s up to you to make it.

“Be kind to yourself in the year ahead. Remember to forgive yourself, and to forgive others. It’s too easy to be outraged these days, so much harder to change things, to reach out, to understand. Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin. Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them. Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.” (Neil Gaiman)