There were other things I learned that I am still “un” learning. One of those is stereotypes. Yes, I learned some of this in my own home. And I learned from the environment where I grew up. I also learned from the churches I attended and the schools where I was educated. While the good things in the first paragraph may have subtle ways of seeping into the fabric of who you are, these stereotypes that we are taught are more insidious. We often don’t even see them until much later in life. For the sake of those who taught me these lessons in how to look at people, I will not list the specific things that I learned from their words and actions. I will just start with the process of undoing.
I guess you could say that I have challenged the “norm”since I was very young. I have always wanted to know “why”. I was not afraid of a good spanking. I just wanted to know “why” I was getting one. I often chose to get one anyway, but knowing the “why” helped make it more palatable. There were many
times when I was told not to do such and so forth….go to play with the neighbor boy, for example. I would, of course, ask why, and then proceed to head across the ditch to play. I did not do this blindly. I knew that I was not to go. I was given the reason why. And, after weighing the consequences, I would head off to do it anyway. I know that I did this consciously because when I was done playing I would come home, confess what I had done and await the punishment. If there is anything "true" by which I am known - this would be it.
DISCLAIMER ALERT: I guess I should have warned you not to let your kids read this blog!
I only tell you this about myself because it is probably what has kept me alive and functioning all of these years. And it is what, in the long run, has helped me overcome some of what I learned. Rather than speak of the things I was taught about others, I will tell you about the stereotypes that I am learning to overcome about myself. You see, the ones that teach us to build walls around our hearts are as dangerous as the ones that teach us to build walls between “villages”of people.
A stereotype, according to one definition, is “a word used to classify someone according to their looks or behavior. Many people are stereotyped into certain groups according to something as insignificant as what they wear.” We also know that there are stereotypes given to entire groups of people based on the color of their skin, the houses in which they live, or their country of origin.
Here are some of the things I “was”growing up:
1. “Four-eyes” – seems harmless enough. But I could not wait to get my first contacts. And imagine when I did, and then found out that I was allergic to one of the main ingredients in all of the solutions. But that didn’t keep me from trying over and over and over again. For what purpose?
2. “Fatso” – and this one was perpetuated everywhere not just in the classroom in grade school. The line of clothes for “girls my size” was called “Chubbies”. Lovely – don’t you think? Even the boy’s line
sounded a little more glamorous – “Huskies”.
3. Of course as I got older that last one grew into “you would be so pretty if you would just lose a little weight.” Inspiring words.
4. I won’t use the word I was called in my first grade class. You see, I went to school in one of the first integrated schools in DeQueen, Arkansas in 1967. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to play with “those” children. And I didn’t know what that word meant. But I did know it hurt both me and my friend.
5. “Goody Two-Shoes” – the words for a kid who goes to church. They surely didn’t know me ‘cause I was anything but good. “Rotten No Shoes” would have been a better moniker! And of course, on the other side of the story I was …
6. A “PK” – a preacher’s kid. I think most people think that is spelled “t-e-r-r-o-r”. In later years I figured out why we were so naughty. And, because this is my blog and I can, I am going to share it with you. There are three points – just like a good sermon!
a. Our parents were always busy at church – playing the organ, teaching Sunday School, setting up the fellowship dinners, counseling married couples, etc.
b. Because they were always busy, we explored and knew every nook and cranny of the church in which to hide and get into trouble without being seen.
c. If we did get caught – no one dared do anything about it because our daddy was the preacher.
7. There wasn’t really a name that went along with being a kid who grew up on the farm, but I was definitely that. And we were shunned by the “townies”. Oh –wait.
8. “Homeschooler” – yep. I was one of those. And even among homeschoolers, there are different stereotypes depending on what “brand” of homeschooler you are. Just for the record – I was a high-schooler that did not have to sit down at the table and study for specific hours per day. I was allowed to complete my work on my own time and have a job outside of the home to learn the craft that I was interested in. There now you can put me in the right category of student.
I guess the list could go on and on. I will stop. As an adult, there is less name-calling and more stereotyping. I have been judged from the top to the bottom. I have been judged inside and outside. I have been judged for things I have done and things I have not done. So what’s the lesson? My accusers do not know me. None of us is any one thing. No group of people is any one thing. We put a name on someone and then wonder why they spend their whole life defending it or trying to overcome it. You
see, I was not rebellious as a teenager because I was raised in a Christian home. I was rebellious as a teenager because I was trying to prove that I was not. If I could look like I was not – then perhaps the name-calling would stop.
We learn who we “are” from the names we are called. Some of us accept the names that are put on us as truth. Some of us learn to fight back and put names on those who are different than us. Most of us do both. But the tenacity in the heart of that little girl on the playground in Arkansas still beats in my chest. I can’t tell you that the words and the names had no effect on me. It is a daily battle of waking up and deciding that I am not who they said I was. It is a continual choice to embrace who God says that I am. I can say that I am thankful God knows me. He not only knows my name but, if need be, He will give me a new one. (Isaiah 62:2)
Names are powerful things. I have never been very good with names. But when I worked in the elementary school, I learned an important lesson. I worked in the office as an assistant to the principal and every child had passed through my doors at one point or another. So when I was walking through the halls, they would come running up to give me a hug. And they would look at me waiting for me to call them by name. You could see it in their eyes. It was a test. “How well does she know me?” was the question they were really asking. It is the question we all ask, every day. We may not stand and look someone in the eye until they call us by name. But we are waiting to be known for who we are. Not what we do, or what we wear, or what we look like – but who we are.
God has given me people in my life who do look me in the eye and love me as I am. Because of this, I am beginning to see others as God sees them – not through the lens of the biases I have been taught. I want to look people in the eye and “know” them as well. People who are different than me. People who can teach me about things I don’t already know. People who are strong. People who have overcome. People who are weak. People who need to know that they are loved.
This weekend I was asked by a Burmese student of mine to attend a celebration of his culture. I have to admit that a year ago, I would not have gone. If I had gone, I would not have gone alone. We are often afraid of what we do not know. But he wanted to be known. He wanted me to see where he was from and who he was. He trusted me to come. It was an honor to be invited into his world. So I went. And I enjoyed myself. And I learned from the experience. And more importantly I know that when he looks me
in the eye in the future, I will “know” him a little better.