long time, no blog
So now that I have a job, it's a little trickier to keep up with this blog thing. Also, being on Facebook means that many of my random thoughts end up there instead of here.
However, I did have a random thought this morning that I think is worth expanding on. (We'll see whether that ends up being true!)
People who have lived all their lives in a majority group have no idea what it's like to be part of a minority. They may say they have empathy and all (and some of them sincerely try), but unless you've been on the other side of the tracks, so to speak, you really have no idea. Like getting married or having kids, some life experiences are just not describable.
So I belong to a few majority groups (majority, that is, for the US). I'm white, for one, and my primary language is English. I grew up in a household that celebrated Christmas. So I understand, at a primordial level, the "fears" that white, English-speaking, majority-culture people have towards folks who are different. (And by "folks" I mean large groups of The Other. For example, individual black people I have known personally are lovely people and we get along fine. Blacks as a large group of Others? Less predictable. But then, I suppose, all large groups of Others are that way.)
However, I also belong to several minority groups. I'm left-handed, for one. Nobody who is right-handed knows the frustration of living in a world that's made for right-handed people (as should be self-evident). For me, I have to be mindful of how things work (I can't safely use a Skilsaw), and I have to be tolerant of and grateful for the special assistance that sometimes comes my way.
For example, when I was learning to decorate cakes, my instructor and fellow students were all right-handed. Fortunately, directions for lefties were printed in the book, but it made me feel a little like a disabled person who required accommodation.
Being Pagan puts me in a minority group, too, one that I'm reminded of every single time I think about the money I use ("In God We Trust" - whose god are we talking about? Mine? I don't think so) or hear the Pledge of Allegiance (which I did every day when I was working in the schools).
So on a primordial level, I understand the resentments of the minority, the urge to take action and make sure that my rights are acknowledged, and the fear that those in the majority couldn't care less what happens to me (and might even be happy to see "my kind" stamped out).
I have one foot on either side of the tracks. Seems like this makes me qualified for something. But what?
However, I did have a random thought this morning that I think is worth expanding on. (We'll see whether that ends up being true!)
People who have lived all their lives in a majority group have no idea what it's like to be part of a minority. They may say they have empathy and all (and some of them sincerely try), but unless you've been on the other side of the tracks, so to speak, you really have no idea. Like getting married or having kids, some life experiences are just not describable.
So I belong to a few majority groups (majority, that is, for the US). I'm white, for one, and my primary language is English. I grew up in a household that celebrated Christmas. So I understand, at a primordial level, the "fears" that white, English-speaking, majority-culture people have towards folks who are different. (And by "folks" I mean large groups of The Other. For example, individual black people I have known personally are lovely people and we get along fine. Blacks as a large group of Others? Less predictable. But then, I suppose, all large groups of Others are that way.)
However, I also belong to several minority groups. I'm left-handed, for one. Nobody who is right-handed knows the frustration of living in a world that's made for right-handed people (as should be self-evident). For me, I have to be mindful of how things work (I can't safely use a Skilsaw), and I have to be tolerant of and grateful for the special assistance that sometimes comes my way.
For example, when I was learning to decorate cakes, my instructor and fellow students were all right-handed. Fortunately, directions for lefties were printed in the book, but it made me feel a little like a disabled person who required accommodation.
Being Pagan puts me in a minority group, too, one that I'm reminded of every single time I think about the money I use ("In God We Trust" - whose god are we talking about? Mine? I don't think so) or hear the Pledge of Allegiance (which I did every day when I was working in the schools).
So on a primordial level, I understand the resentments of the minority, the urge to take action and make sure that my rights are acknowledged, and the fear that those in the majority couldn't care less what happens to me (and might even be happy to see "my kind" stamped out).
I have one foot on either side of the tracks. Seems like this makes me qualified for something. But what?