Yes, We Are Like That - And We Should Repent

When Joe Biden was President, and there were shootings or tragic crimes, he often put some variation of the sentence "This is not who we are as Americans" in his response speech. While I know what he meant, each time I thought, "If it's not, then how does it keep happening here?" It would have been more accurate to say, "This is not who we SHOULD be as Americans."

For the past two weeks, as we have witnessed the clash between ICE agents and protestors in Minnesota, there have been similar sentiments online. After Renée Good's death, one tweet read, in part, "We love our neighbors. We aspire to live by the Golden Rule. We are better than this." Another said, "Consider the outlook Jesus would have on you celebrating her death. We are not them. Stop acting like you are."

This isn't a semantic difference. To declare that our actions do not reflect who we are just doesn't make sense. What are we asking people to judge us by if not the things we say and do. If not our actions and our words, what are we?

Statements like this, even when well meaning and aspirational, are a problem. They give cover to the darkest parts of us while allowing us to delude ourselves into believing that our hearts are not dark. You've gotten this non-apology from someone, "I'm sorry I said that, but you know I didn't mean it. That's not who I am." We've seen this from celebrities like Paula Dean, Mel Gibson, and Michael Richards after their very public racist rants. Some jumped to defend them because of the circumstances under which they said it (duress, drunkenness, being pushed to their limits, etc.). 

But here's the thing. Something can't come out of you if it's not in you. No matter how hard you squeeze an orange, you won't get coffee out of it. 

If a tube is unlabeled, the only way to know if it is toothpaste or Preparation H is to put it under pressure. Pressure doesn't create; it reveals. 

We shouldn't apologize for saying something we didn't mean; we should apologize for meaning it. And, we should definitely not minimize things by claiming it to be outside of our character.

Teachers, this matters in our classrooms. If we want to help our students develop good character, we cannot let them get away with "that's not who I am" apologies. And, we can't model them. When we have lost our temper or crossed the line in our speech, true apologies are needed, not evasions of responsibility dressed up as contrition. True apologies include three things: 

1. An admission of the action (I did/said this thing.) 
2. An acceptance of the damage done (This thing I did harmed you.)
3. An attempt to make things right (I will repair what can be repaired, and I will not do this again in the future.)

This is going to take more time than "Say you're sorry," which is what we so often do with little to no regard as to whether or not it is sincere. But the discipling that happens is worth the investment. Most teachers have some kind of paraphernalia (coffee mug, wall hanging, t-shirt) that says we touch the future; well here's how we do it. Imagine a future in which people have been taught, not just to say they are sorry, not even just to express remorse, but to reconcile. What a better future that would be. 

Be The Adult

This week, my school had parent-teacher conferences.  Like everything else in teaching, there is a wide spectrum of experience, from "my daughter thinks you are just the best" to "my daughter thinks you are mean" and everything in between. 

There is one that has stuck with me this year.  As I spoke with the parents, I said, "I wish he realized we are on the same side."  They went home and spoke to him, resulting in my receiving an email apology.  I replied with forgiveness and told him the same thing.  "I hope you know that we are on the same side."  As I have thought about it, I'm pretty sure I've not been acting that way.  Tomorrow, I will apologize to him because we have both been acting like middle school students.  That's age appropriate for him, but it isn't for me.

As a middle and high school teacher, I spend most of my time around (surprise) middle and high school students. That can result in being a bit embarrassed around adults as I laugh at things middle schoolers would laugh at.  It can result in my knowing things I really wish I didn't know but have to - like some of the text abbreviations.  It sometimes results in becoming a little more snarky than is appropriate simply because I am surrounded by the masters of the art.  When that happens, it is important to recognize it and correct it.

I know you know this, but there is no such thing as a perfect teacher.  Even those teachers that I hold in such high esteem that it is just shy of idolatry are fallible human beings.  We are going to make mistakes, and we are going to sin.  What's important is to own up to those mistakes and sins, not sweep them under the rug and hope no one notices.  The students will notice them.  More importantly, they will notice how we respond to them.  We should admit our wrongs, apologize for them, and do whatever we can to make them right.

In an age where adults spout off their anger on social media, talk about their dependence on wine like it is normal and not a reason to attend a meeting, deal with their stress by coloring, and talk about "self-care" like it is a virtue, our kids don't see adult behavior modeled very often.  Teachers, we are there to teach more than math, history, and science.  We are also role-models, and we simply must act like it.

Be the adult in the room.  They need it.

An Open Letter of Apology

This is to the young man my father and I encountered on our way out of the North Hills movie theater on Saturday.  I don't know your name.  You appeared to be about twenty years old and were wearing a blue ACLU t-shirt.

As my father and I walked down the sidewalk from the theater to our cars, I saw you and knew that your very presence would anger him.  You see, my dad is a dyed in the wool Trump supporter and one of the angry white men that got him elected.  I was prepared for him to talk trash about you after we walked away or rant about you at dinner.  I had my mouth open, ready to say, "No, thank you" to whatever you were about to ask.  I was not prepared, however, for him to address you directly, and I am sorry that he did.

You could not have been more polite.  As we approached, you leaned out slightly into the sidewalk, but you didn't block our path.  You smiled broadly at the two of us and even greeted us with "Hello. I am with the ACL . . ."  I'm sorry that you didn't even get to finish your sentence before my dad responded to you with his filthy suggestion of how you should treat yourself. 

While you and I are on opposite sides of the political spectrum and would have disagreed on most issues, please know that if you and I had engaged in the discussion you were hoping to have, we would have had a respectful discussion in which I would have acknowledged the genuine nature of your beliefs, as evidenced by the fact that you gave up your Saturday to do volunteer work. 

What I am most sorry for is that I did not stop in my tracks and apologize to you then and there.  I laid into my dad as we continued walking.  He is not and will not be sorry for what he said, but I am, and I wish I had stopped to tell you so.  His justification was that you had "drunk the Kool-Aid."  How he thinks he knows that without having let you get out more than five words, I do not know.  He remains unaware that his Kool-Aid is just a different flavor. 

As I have processed all of this for the past twenty-four hours, I have had a number of thoughts.
1.  No human being should ever be spoken to as my dad spoke to you.  You are an image bearer of the Almighty God.  He treated you as though you were a wad of gum not worthy of wiping off his shoe.  I hope you know that are valued and pursued by the God who made you.
2.  I'm sorry that my party which once identified itself as the party of family values is now led by a man that made my dad think this was okay.  I remember when conservatives said, "Character matters."  Apparently, that was only true for some of them when the president was a Democrat. 
3.  As a high school teacher, I keep coming back to the idea that you could be one of my students.  You weren't at home playing video games, smoking pot, or complaining about your life on social media.  You were volunteering on a Saturday to do what you believed to be good in the world.  While we disagree on how that good should be accomplished, I respect that you were doing what you believed to be right.  I'm sure you have been treated rudely by others, and the fact that you were still standing there was a testament to your courage and convictions.  Agree or disagree, I couldn't ask for more from my students.
4.  You represented yourself, your organization, and your generation well.  Your polite approach and self-control in not responding to my dad in kind are a credit to you.  You behaved much more maturely than the 70-year-old man to whom you were speaking.  He should be setting an example for you, not the other way around.
5.  As I had the odd experience of reprimanding my own father on a public street, I told him that he didn't represent our side well.  You weren't going to go home that night and think, "Well, now I'm convinced conservatism is the way to go since my encounter with that man."  I hope that you have encountered conservatives that gave you a more complete picture of who we are than he did.  We aren't all like that; I promise.
6.  My dad claims Christianity, but I know Jesus would not have addressed you that way.  In fact, the only people Jesus was harsh with were the self-righteous.  He engaged everyone else with great mercy and kindness.  I don't know if you have encountered Jesus, but if not, I hope you will be open to His grace in spite of this incident.

Sir, despite our differences, I encourage you to keep going.

Keep being engaged in the world.  Keep pursuing good.  Keep giving your time.  Keep being polite.  Keep learning.  Keep growing.