Intercultural Responsiveness

I remember crying at Disney World.

Amidst that place of dreams coming true along the paths of perfection, nothing was going to erase the smile on my little girl’s face. Blessed with so much, including the ability to live beyond my means, it seemed impossible for me to do anything but laugh during that adventurous week. But, somewhere along the way, when we were closer to leaving than we were to arriving, I started to cry. My daughter would be leaving me and joining her mother, and another passage of time would mark the reality that because of our failures as parents, because of my failures as a father, parenting time arrangements would need to be honored. So, as I did many times before, and have done many times since, I cried.

We desire simplicity. Sure, we love a challenge, something that pushes us to our limits, but only if it eventually comes to an end. Some challenges, most challenges – the ones that really matter – don’t really come to an end. There are moments of calm, maybe even long passages of peace, but inevitably there is always a return. It’s that return we need to stay focused on, not because we shouldn’t be positive; rather, because we should be understanding. Always.

Do you have any idea, have you truly taken the time to think through, are you willing to suspend assumptions long enough, will you commit to recognizing that it’s not a simple story? It never is. It’s not meant to be. It needs you not for your judgment or even for your passive interest, but for your engagement.

The misbehaviors and missing assignments (especially the ones that happen over and over and over again) have a story behind them that doesn’t begin or end with the words “don’t care,” or “lazy.” The teacher who is acting rude, or breaking down, or demonstrating an unwillingness to engage has a story behind him or her that will give you some insight, but only if you take the time to engage and understand. The decision from above you that seems to not honor you or devastate your professional life includes a story that doesn’t deserve your condemnation. The lawbreakers, the caretakers, the perfectionists and free spirits, the ones who sit back and the ones who do it all, the gays, the straights, the pious and perverted, the privileged, the powerless, and the ones with skin and hair so different from yours, the weird named and strange speaking, the religious fanatic, the atheist, the greedy and the poor, and all the people before and after and everywhere in between: They all have a story.

It’s not a simple story. It’s long, and full of words that you may not want to hear. It’s funny and sad and tragic and full of hope. It’s illustrated with blood, sweat, and tears. It will take you to places you may wish to avoid, depths and heights you may have never been, desire to return, or want to go. Firmly bound but with a tattered cover, the crisp but torn pages are waiting for you. Enter with an open mind and a willingness to learn. This isn’t your own story, but you just may find yourself in it if you pay close enough attention.

Be amazed.

Proceed with caution.

I wish I could say the right thing all the time. I wish I could listen, and keep an open mind, and respond with love and grace all the time. I wish I could understand that we’re all trying to figure this out, and that we’re all simply in different places for different reasons. I wish I could be more patient, and I wish I had more of a sense of urgency. I wish I could change it all, erase the pain, and eliminate the hate.

Denying a group of people, any people, access to loving and caring for one another isn’t responding firmly by giving them what’s best for them. It isn’t demonstrating the importance of holding up some ideal or value or moral purpose for the benefit of all. It isn’t standing up for deteriorating truth or refusing to give in to the downward spiral of humankind. Denying a group of people, any people, access to loving and caring for one another is one thing, and one thing only: Hate.

It is possible to overcome hate. The first step is accepting the fact that we all have it in ourselves to hate. The second step is realizing that we all have, do, and will hate. The third step is recognizing that we must stop hating. I’m not saying these three steps are easy, but I am saying they’re possible. We actually have a choice in the matter, and to think anything less is not simply wrong, it’s selfish.

Standing behind history, science, philosophy, religion, majority mindset, public opinion, ignorance, or pain justifies absolutely nothing. Hate is hate, and love is love. Confusing the two makes a fool of only yourself. You have the power within you to make a change immediately. There is nothing standing in your way. The path to right is within your reach, and the first step is directly in front of you.

Don’t proceed with caution.

This is that time during the school year when we tend to get a little edgy with one another. Our colleagues borrow something, or fail to follow through on something, or comment slightly wrong about something, or ask us to do one more something, and we kinda lose it. Our bark comes with a bite. Our students talk out of turn, fail to come to class prepared, roll their eyes, get rough in the hall, or make another rude remark, and we whip out that discipline referral fast enough to make their heads spin. Our pen becomes mightier than the sword. The parents insist on a faster response, complain about how an issue was handled, question a grade that was distributed, or comment about how we work for them, and a simple conversation turns into an ugly argument. Our words slice like a hot knife through butter.

I’ve wondered before, and been reminded recently, that perhaps things only turn ugly like this near the end of a school year because there is, in fact, an end to a school year. Maybe if there really was no such thing – an end to a school year – we would simply go about our business from day to day, paying no attention to remarks and feelings that relate to being at the end of our wits. I don’t know, though. I can’t imagine it would be much different since regardless of the time of year, we still stumble through our relationships with one another. Regardless, I’m sure we can breathe a little deeper, take a few extra moments, and aspire a bit more often to something more becoming.

Nothing our colleagues, students, or parents do merits the negativity that can rule our hearts and minds and make it’s way out our mouths. I love the people I work with, all their ups and downs and inbetweens. I’m honored to be in the lives of the students we’re trusted to nurture, every single one of their goals and passions and misguided thoughts. And, I’m privileged to be trusted by the parents who give their very selves (or, at the very least, a part of themselves) to us each and every day, their expertise and opinions and comments both welcome and unwelcome. Still, the end is near, and I’m quite honestly very much looking forward to it.

Well, kind of.