Feeling Low

 

I’ve been feeling pretty low for a while. There can certainly be many reasons for this. I’m taking on more at work, still trying to deal with working from home, dealing with working from home and dealing with my kids schooling from home. I’ve been more sarcastic than normal, which if you know me, is hard to do. I know that this feeling isn’t unique to me, it’d be insane to think so. We are all dealing with this situation the best we can, what else are we going to do? We are all dealing with the pandemic in our own ways, some are doing well, some are not. If I’m being honest, I don’t have anything to complain about under the circumstances. My family is doing well, we’re healthy, we haven’t lost our jobs. It’s amazing to see the smiles on all of us every day. I know we’re lucky and I’m incredibly grateful.

I feel low because I know that I’m doing well, but there are too many people that are not doing well. And apparently my only way to help others who are not doing well is to donate. I’m supposed to determine on my own an organization that is worthy for me to put some of my own time/money to. The best solution in America is for individuals to determine which non-profits make sense. This is how we deal with poverty or working-class citizens who temporarily lose their jobs. Charity. Clearly this is the American Dream, those who work hard enough and are hired by companies that don’t fail deserve to succeed. Screw anyone who dares to reach out and try, you deserve no protection. Why should you deserve any protection for trying to further someone’s dream, and to try to further innovation in America?

I feel low because I went to Presbyterian camp for 12 years, I obviously got a Christian education. However, what sticks out to me the most is that I got perspective. For all those years, most of the counselors were foreign. I was privileged to get to know their stories, what made them who they are. Their faith is what drove them all to the camp, and thus to me. Listening to their experiences actually stuck with me more than any of the religion they could teach me. Their stories were unique, and some involved, others were simpler. I was always curious about to hear from them, they were different from what I knew. Maybe it was the accents, or it was the stories told. To this day I’m not quite sure. As I moved on to high school, I met more mentors that had accents and weren’t from America. They quickly became my favorite teachers. Part of this was the puzzle of trying to figure out what they were saying as I needed to interpret what they were saying. Part of this was because they ultimately challenged my world view. There was more to the world than my White little part of the world.

   I feel low because I was raised Presbyterian and I’m supposed to believe everything I was taught. Which maybe I do, I’m not sure. I do know that I’m completely turned off by what I was taught because too many people take that as an excuse to hate. At best the hate comes off as a shade of gray. To start, homosexuals are to be demonized because apparently that’s evil. Sure, whatever, what does their behavior have to do with your divinity? Trans people are an abomination, because they want to feel comfortable? Yeah I don’t know on this one, I suppose “reasons” would apply. I know that these views don’t represent what I was taught, and I don’t mean to characterize them that way.

A huge part of my life, and who I am was determined by my Christian upbringing, I don’t regret that. However, taking a look at where we currently are, I can’t help but wonder what the difference in this country would be. I question my upbringing at every opportunity because I wonder what I’m missing. The irony of being able to question my upbringing might be lost on me, I’ve had every opportunity afforded to me, I can’t deny that.

Due to my experiences at camp, and through what I was taught, I can’t imagine a world where charity is the best means for people to survive. That is just insane, we all live in this country or on this planet. Sure we don’t all deserve equal compensation, but I think we can agree that we all deserve to live. We all deserve the opportunity to become who we can be. We can all grow, even the smallest flower can grow. Question is, will we give that flower the chance? Or will we squash it as we have for centuries?